In the midst of the conversation, one of the ladies, who had watched me rather curiously during the last scene, turned to me.
"Do you have love scenes on the Japanese stage?" she asked.
"Oh, yes," I answered. "Our stage shows life as it is, and Japanese are just like other people."
"But your face got crimson, little lady, and you looked as if you had never seen a lover before," she said smilingly.
I explained as well as I could that for generations we have been taught that strong emotional expression is not consistent with elegance and dignity. That does not mean that we try to repress our feelings; only that public expression of them is bad form. Therefore on our stage the love scenes are generally so demure and quiet that an American audience would not be thrilled at all. But the dignified bearing of our actors has a strong effect on Japanese people, for they understand the feeling that is not shown.
"What do lovers do when they are—well—very enthusiastic?" asked a young lady.
"They gently turn their backs to each other," I replied.
"Turn their backs to each other! My stars!" was the very peculiar exclamation of the young lady.
In a moment she turned to me again.
"Is it really true," she asked, "that in Japan there is no kissing—even between husband and wife?"