IN Japan as in most other oriental countries, etiquette is an extremely intricate art which can be mastered only by diligent study under a professor. It is an important item in a girl’s school curriculum and is among her most valued accomplishments. It is not, however, commonly studied in detail by men, unless they have been brought up under the old regime; they feel in consequence like fish out of water when they have to assist at elaborate ceremonies and fall into many blunders through their nervous efforts to steer clear of gaucheries. Men could well spare the time in the leisurely days of the feudal government when they could live in competence by taking up their hereditary offices, professions, or trades and working in the same grooves as their ancestors had done; but in these days of fierce competition when every man must strike out for himself to earn a living, we have little or no time to go into the intricacies of etiquette. Hence, the more complex forms are gradually falling into disuse; and the knowledge thereof, and that too not very deep, has become the monopoly of women. Indeed, though there are plenty of books on etiquette for women, hardly one, certainly none of any note, has been published of late years for the use of the other sex.
It is generally conceded that the Japanese are among the politest people in the world; and some writers go so far as to contrast our politeness with French by observing that the latter is only skin-deep while ours is natural and spontaneous. Such a contrast may be flattering to our national vanity; but we are inclined to doubt whether it is just. The truth is, we fear, that courtesy is with us as with the French a matter of education and is to a great extent a mechanical habit which its enforcement from early childhood at home and at school has almost made a second nature with us. That self-control which we possess in common with other Asiatic nations from its having been instilled into us from generation to generation by the precepts of our sages, enables us to repress all expression of emotion whenever necessity arises and even to wear a mask under the most trying circumstances. Politeness is then with us a great restraining force in our social life; but once that force is removed or overpowered by an emotional outburst, we are hurled along as helplessly as any other people by the master passion of the moment and betray like them the hooligan in us, as the police reports too often prove. Our women, from the fact that the outcome of their education is self-effacement, possess this power of control in a far greater degree than men. They will go on smiling in the face of insulting remarks and completely conceal their wounded feelings. This has led many foreign visitors to imagine that they can address without offence any remarks however gross to a Japanese woman. She may put up with them without any sign of anger; but could politeness permit her to retort, these foreigners would learn with astonishment what cutting sarcasms are capable of being expressed in “the politest language in the world that has no swear-word in it.”
Apropos of “swear-words,” their absence in a language is, it may be observed, no criterion of the gentleness of the people speaking that tongue. The suave diction of diplomacy can convey a threat far more effectively than the bluster of Billingsgate; innuendo is a much more telling weapon in polemics than a direct attack; and courteous or veiled language gives no key to the moral character of the speaker. And so it does not necessarily follow that a nation whose language is rich in honorifics and other terms of respect and reverence is of a gentler disposition or less robust than one which does not recognise such niceties of speech; the only difference between the two lies in the manner in which they give vent to their passion or emotion. For the former can convey any degree of discourtesy or insult by a wilful omission of these honorifics in a way which would be well nigh incomprehensible to people to whom such discrimination is foreign. There is no need to resort to blasphemy or profanity to express strong feeling since these honorifics, by their absence or ironical use, serve all purposes of emotional language. In fact, the words of insult which are used in common speech sound very mild when translated into English. An Englishman would probably smile at a Japanese hurling at his opponent’s head words like fool, beast, and dunderhead as opprobrious terms, while the Japanese would be equally amused at the Englishman’s readiness to invoke God’s curse upon everybody and everything that may fail to please him. Since, then, honorifics play an important part in Japanese speech, their proper use requires considerable art and tact. The blunders of the labouring classes in their use are stock jokes with professional story-tellers; but with the educated classes solecisms of the kind are of comparatively rare occurrence. From long practice their right use has become a settled habit. It would be difficult to explain precisely the force of these honorifics in common speech; but suffice it to state that words, or rather syllables, signifying respect are prefixed or affixed to the words directly referring to the person addressed or spoken of, if he is a superior or an equal whom it is customary to treat with consideration. There are also special words and phrases to be used on such occasions.
These prefixes are commonly translated “honourable” or “august” by English writers on Japan; thus, phrases which merely mean “your face” or “his hand,” for instance, are rendered by “the honourable face” or “the august hand.” But the use of honorifics being, as already stated, almost a matter of habit, they do not usually convey to the Japanese the same import and significance as the word “honourable” would to an Englishman. No doubt, they practically mean that; but the common honorific prefixes, which are monosyllabic, such as o, go, and mi, are glibly uttered. If the Japanese, however, had to use each time in their place the tetrasyllable “honourable,” he would soon grow out of the habit, just as in all probability an Englishman would cease to swear if the word “damn” were not such an easily pronounceable one, short, abrupt, and capable of great emphasis. This word has no equivalent in Japanese and has to be rendered by a periphrasis which would sound as strange to an English ear as the word “honourable” does to a Japanese as a rendering of his common honorific prefixes. Indeed, the use of the English comminatory word is far more eccentric when the word comes to be translated; the Japanese honorific has at least sense, which is more than can always be said for the English swear-word, when it is uttered as indiscriminately as it commonly is. Mr. Mantalini, for instance, would be hard put to it if he were asked to explain what he meant by the little “dems” with which he peppers his speech, while such an expression as “a damn sight” is meaningless, and “a damned good fellow” is an even more hopeless contradiction in terms than “an awfully sweet girl.”
Politeness is early taught in Japanese homes. It is no show-quality to be exhibited only in company, but is daily practised at home and in school as an indispensable aid to savoir-vivre. Thus, at home every one bows to his superior in bidding good-morning or good-night. The servants bow to the children, the servants and children to the master and mistress, and all to the father or mother of the master or mistress, who may be living with them. When the last, or the master or mistress goes out, they are seen to the porch and sped with a bow, and when they come home, they are met again at the porch with a bow. We bow squatting with our heads on the mat. This has appeared to many Europeans to be a more obsequious way of greeting than a hand-shake, probably because they associate such a bow with grovelling in the dust, which would certainly be a humiliating posture to a European. But the two are quite distinct. With us, from our way of squatting on the floor, no other form of greeting is possible. In fact, until we cease to squat, that is, until we reform altogether our mode of life, hand-shaking is out of the question. In Europe courtesy impels a man to rise to greet a newcomer, but in Japan he greets him squatting; in Europe a man who comes into the presence of his superior remains standing until he is bidden to take a seat, but in Japan he squats at the door of the room until he is invited to come in, whereupon he shuffles in and makes his salutation. He remains squatting and does not approach close enough to his host to take his hand; for to shake it he must squat with his knees almost touching the other’s, and then, before they could talk at ease, he would have to shuffle backward, which would look very ungainly. Thus, as we squat too far apart to shake hands, we can only bow; and politeness prompts us to bow with our heads on the mats.
BOWING.
Squatting is an art which needs practice from early childhood. The easiest way is to sit Turk-wise with our legs crossed in front; but this can be done only when we are alone or before inferiors, and would be the height of impoliteness before a superior or an equal unless he is a very intimate friend. It is permissible now, however, when we are in European clothes, to sit in this manner at a friend’s house or at convivial gatherings. But this posture can hardly be called squatting. Of squatting properly so called, there are two ways. One is to sit on our feet. This is done by doubling the knees and crossing the feet behind and laying on them the whole weight of the body. Unless we have been used to it from childhood, this mode of squatting would give us pins and needles in a very short time; the feet would go to sleep and if we tried suddenly to rise, our legs would refuse to support us. Men squat in this way; but women resort to the other method, which is to double the knees as in the first case, but to keep the legs and feet straight out behind without crossing, so that less weight falls upon them. As the legs are pressed down obliquely and the tendons are brought into a state of extreme tension, this method is more trying than the other; but Japanese women can sit in this style for hours on end without feeling any fatigue. There can be little doubt, however, that this habit of squatting is injurious to the development of the body. Most Japanese, if they are not exactly bow-legged, have at least slightly bent legs owing to the weight of the body constantly resting on them. The pressure on the heels also stunts the growth of the lower limbs; for though our trunks are of ordinary length, it is the shortness of the legs that makes us a nation of small stature. We have been told by a Japanese medical authority that we lose at least two inches and a half by this habit of squatting. Now the average height of a Japanese male adult is five feet three inches and a half and that of a female is four feet nine inches and a half, so that if we could abolish squatting and take to chairs, the average heights of our male and female adults would, according to this authority, be five feet six inches and five feet respectively.
SITTING WITH CROSSED LEGS.