A “s�bana� is a tip by a guest to all the servants of a brothel, and is shared in by the yarite, shinz�, men-servants, and bath-room attendants. It is usually given on a mombi (crest day: New year’s day, the go-sekku tori-no-machi festival, etc.) and varies in amount according to the class of house: the sums given are regularly classified and divided into amounts of 2-1�2, 3, 4, and 5 Yen, etc., as the case may be. When s�bana is given, the names of the donor and his lady friend are posted in a prominent place in the house: the larger the number of such posters, the greater is the honour to the woman in question. This custom appears to have been in vogue since ancient times, for the amounts fixed during the Kwansei era (1789–1800) were 3 ry� for a first-class house, 2 ry� for a second-class house, 1 ry� 2 bu for a third-class house, 2 bu for a lower grade establishment. When a s�bana is given, all the servants of the house come up to the room and kneeling down outside thank the guest for his present and clap their hands in unison.
“Shokwai� AND “Mi-tate�
(First meeting) AND (Selection of women.)
Introduction of Courtesans to Guests.
The “Zensei Kuruwa Kagami� (全盛廓鑑) says that in the dusk of the evening, when all is chilly and lonesome, the deep-toned curfew bell of Iriya sends forth a resonant and withal melancholy clang which depresses the spirits and fills the heart with a vague sense of gloomy sadness. Strange as the coincidence may be, just at the very time the solemn sound of the temple bell is reverberating over hill and dale, the women file into their cages (misé wo haru) in the brothel quarter, the “flowers of the Yoshiwara bud and blossom,� and the whole yūkwaku becomes a scene of vivacious animation. These courtesans (who have practically fallen to the level of being regarded as so much merchandise awaiting buyers) sit for hours exposed to the gaze of the passers-by, decked out in all the splendour of coral and rare tortoise-shell hair-pins stuck around their heads like a saint’s glory, and gorgeous in dresses of silk and gold and silver embroidery, the heavy cost of which weighs them down and forces them still deeper into the “stream of debt.� In days of yore it was customary for the women to enter their misé while the “sugagaki� was being played and bunches of clog-checks (gesoku-fuda = wooden tickets given to guests in exchange for foot-gear left in charge of attendants at the entrance) were being struck noisily against the floor. Among the yūjo the o shoku kabu (or proud leading beauty of the house) with painted face, rouged lips, and penciled eyebrows, sits lazily smoking her long red bamboo pipe, emitting faint blue rings of tobacco smoke from her mouth, pretending not to see the crowds of people swarming in front of the cage and yet—cat-like—furtively watching their every movement. While the other women are engaged in a whispered conversation about the personal appearance of on-lookers, the o shoku feigns to be absorbed in the perusal of a long espistle supposed to have been received from one of her numerous admirers, and every now and again she artfully allows a smile to irradiate her countenance as a token that she is reading a specially interesting sentence. Such a skilful Jezebel is sure to have some rich guests who keep her liberally supplied with funds: as a rule she will have no lover (j�r� 情郎 = a male paramour: sometimes read as “ii hito�) to whom she must give pecuniary assistance, and generally speaking she will avoid koke-kyaku (young and impecunious guests) and san-jaku-obi (low class of loafers) as she would the pest. Rather slender in person, having a good contour of the nose, and possessed of bright eyes, if she cannot be called strictly beautiful she is at least very interesting and attractive. This “Dainty Iniquity� (as Kipling puts it) is always sure to be a perfect actress, and looks irresistibly charming as she talks with her sister yūjo in a whisper or as she gracefully bends her head and covers her face with her sleeves to stifle an apparently spontaneous burst of merry laughter and then quietly flirts with, and encourages, some likely guest who is gazing at her intently through the bars. The above is a rather lengthy description of a yūjo who is expert in the art of twisting men round her little finger and manipulating guests (kyaku wo nekokasu) according to the circumstances of the occasion. Those women who are worried by anxiety about private affairs will be seen to conceal their hands within the folds of their dress, to allow their heads to sink deeply into their eri (collar of a dress) in an irregular manner, to every now and then glance round the cage and up at the ceiling, or to otherwise reveal, by their fidgety and impatient demeanour, that they have something unpleasant on their minds. Those who act unreservedly and chat noisily with the other women are assuredly new to the life, and when they become familiar with guests they are unfeignedly sincere in their regard for those they like. The woman who sits out of the row sideways and listens to the ribald songs of the passers-by shows her fickle and forward disposition by treating all as fish who come to her net: she has sympathy with no man but as a matter of business policy and will bestow equal attention on all comers, no matter whether they be good-looking, bad-looking, or jealous as fiends. Those who are blowing the berry of the winter-cherry (h�zuki), making paper-frogs as a charm to attract the men for whom they are waiting, practising “tatami-zan� (divination by mat-straws) and playing other innocent little games, are generally new arrivals in the house who are willing to please their guests in every possible manner.
Courtesans making their toilettes.
When a guest wishes to be accommodated with a “temporary wife,� and enters the house to which she belongs, he is led by a wakai-mono to the hiki-tsuke-zashiki (introduction chamber). If he glances round the room he will perhaps find the alcove decorated with a large kakemono (hanging-picture) representing the rising sun and a stork, the ceiling painted with an enormous phœnix, and everything so spick and span that he will wonder whether he is in fairyland. Candles are now lighted, and a black-lacquered tobacco-box brought in. Next a set of three saké-cups are produced with which to perform (though nominally) the necessary nuptial ceremony called the “san-san-ku-do� in imitation of the custom observed at a real wedding. The girl then appears accompanied by her shinz� who plays the part of a go-between (nak�do-yaku) for the couple by uttering the conventional phrases of “anata� and “konata� and the unholy “marriage� ceremony is finished. After this the yūjo retires to change her clothes, (o meshi-kae) and at the same time the guest is conducted to her apartments where the table is laid ready and a charcoal fire is glowing in an enormous brazier. This bright red, and almost incandescent charcoal fire, always reminds one of the ardent passion of the poor devil of a guest in the next room, who alone and waiting for his partner glows with all the rage of jealousy and intense longing! Food is served in dishes of enormous size, but the net contents of these platters are microscopic, so the “feast� amounts to little more than a mere show and is just sufficiently imposing to warrant being handsomely charged for in the bill under the title of “On ry�ri� (the august repast). The chopsticks used are new for the occasion and are regular wari-bashi (a stick made of sugi wood with a split at one end, used as chopsticks by splitting it in two) but, alas! they too are soon prostituted to base uses, being used as snuffers to cut candle wicks, and even as tongs for the hibachi of a tenantless room![29]
It is curious to note that when tea-house people offer a saké-cup to the yūjo they invariably sit obliquely, partially turning their backs to the guest and never facing him directly. Perhaps this custom unintentionally betrays their secret intention of sitting on the visitor, squeezing him for all he is worth, and then kicking him out! The yūjo herself at the first meeting with a new guest is apt to look askant at the latter and “draw� him by occasionally gossiping about her “sisters-in-vice.� Every now and again one may faintly hear the sound of a pipe being sharply struck against a bamboo spittoon in a neighbouring room: this is probably a signal that your neighbour is lonely and weary of waiting for his sleeping-companion, and you may make up your mind that he is craning his neck forward and straining his ears to catch the sound of her returning footsteps. It is said that a warrior awakens at the jingling of a horse’s bridle-bit, but, under the above circumstances, the sound of a woman’s sandaled feet shuffling down the passage appeals to the drowsy watcher with ten times as much force and braces him up like a powerful tonic. In Japan, however, men do not like to show themselves too “soft,� and when the woman finally slides back the sh�ji (paper shutter) of the room her guest is almost sure to sham being fast asleep: this is called “tanuki-neiri� (badger-sleep). As the hour advances, the crowds of loafers (known as “hiyakashi�) in the Yoshiwara gradually disperse and nothing, except the cries of peripatetic macaroni sellers (“nabeyaki udon�) and blind shampooers (“amma-hari�) and the dismal howling of impish mongrels disturb the stillness of the night; but even when comparative quietness has been restored, the guest’s sleep has been so thoroughly broken that he remains tossing uneasily on his pillow longing for daylight. After a few hours of fitful slumber, which leave the wretched fellow even more fatigued than before, the eastern sky begins to glow with a faint rosy light, and with the dawn of day the great black crows in the neighbourhood awake and fly circling around, cawing loudly as if in mockery and derision. Jaded and exhausted by excess, and played out by reason of his night’s debauch, the poor guest crawls wearily out of bed, feeling as limp as a dish-clout, and as a preparation for his return home proceeds to drag himself to the wash-stand and make his toilet. Oh,! what a face he sees reflected in the water—a drawn, distorted, and haggard face, with pale bloodless lips and sunken bloodshot eyes! And oh! the nausea resulting from undigested food and adulterated saké, the agony of “hot coppers,� the racking headache, and the formidable bill—six feet long—which makes one’s hair rise on end! Then the woebegone victim of his own asinine stupidity settles his bill and sneaks away from the presence of the yūjo, who comes to bid him farewell with the words—“o chikai uchi ...� (please come again very soon), climbs heavily into a jinrikisha and is whirled away to his own residence, thoroughly agreeing in spirit with the words of the Vulgate:—“vanitas vanitatum, et omnia vanitas.�
