Kabuki

by Zoë Kincaid

As the plays became more complex these rôles underwent modifications. Of villains there was a rogues’ gallery,—an interesting study in itself. Deep-dyed personages, irredeemably wicked, were created, the worst of the worst; bad men in gorgeous costumes were sometimes half good, and there were villains with a hint of pathos in their natures, while the smooth individual who could smile and smile and be a villain still was among this company. The favourite character of this description was one outwardly bad, a disguise to cloak the good within, a person merely pretending to be among the evildoers but all the time assisting the righteous cause.

Many different types of heroes were born, from those of honest peasantry to the samurai and aristocrat. Venerable old men were as popular as callow youths. A popular rôle was a karo, or chief retainer, in the service of a feudal lord, and a mediator who tried to bring peace and harmony between warring factions was a rôle that pleased the people. Brave fighting men who could hold off an overwhelming number of attackers thrilled the audience; young daimyo, elegant, effeminate, robed in rich brocades; otokodate or chivalrous commoners, ready to unsheathe their swords in the protection of the brow-beaten lower classes; lovers torn between the affections and stern duty, and strong unrelenting characters forsaking wives and children to wander about the land in search of an enemy that the ends of justice might be attained,—such were the rôles played to the delight of their audiences by the yakusha, or rôle men.

In the sphere of the onnagata there are an endless number of good women and true, from the consort of a Shogun to the fair ladies of the nobility and wives of ordinary citizens. Beautiful, youthful princesses wearing flowing kimono of scarlet, purple, or pink adorned with gold, and crowned with silver head-dresses, are a fascinating creation of the onnagata. The three favourite rôles of this description are Toki-hime, who forsakes her father for her husband; Yayegaki-hime, who takes a treasured helmet from her father and restores it to its rightful owner, her lover; and Yuki-hime, who, bound by a tyrant to a cherry tree, calls rats to her aid that gnaw the ropes and set her free,—all youthful maidens of high degree.

Middle and old age are not despised in Kabuki, and the matron, white-haired grandmother, and middle-aged women have a recognised place. They are sometimes the chief characters in a play, for in Asia it is just as natural to be old as young—a stage in the journey of life that all must reach.

Admiration for the actors who create such contrasting types of women grows the greater the more we become familiar with these fascinating females; bad, slangy, naughty girls; voluble, gossipy wives of the tradespeople; brave, heroic women of the samurai class; not to overlook the faithful nurse, innocent maidens, the bad stepmothers, and maidservants, honest and faithful.

Rôles the actors enjoy playing, characters that are household names, such is the combination which has established Kabuki on such a firm foundation that it has weathered the storm of the conflicting influences that have broken about its strong citadel.

Tomomori, of forlorn hope, the last of his clan, his white and silver armour bespattered with blood, makes a final stand before plunging into the waves. He climbs to the top of a rock, and picking up a huge anchor lifts it high above his head; then casts it into the sea, the rope attached to his body drawing him relentlessly, until he falls over backward to his fate, as realistic a death-agony as could be found on any stage.

Kezori Kuyemon, a sea rover, in a drama by Chikamatsu Monzaemon, talking Nagasaki dialect, a swaggering freebooter the actor loves to paint. And Kezori’s junk that fills the entire stage, the crew, a rough-and-ready lot, looking for trouble. The vessel begins to turn as though a real pirate craft, and not one resting upon a painted ocean with a painted sky for background. Kezori stands on the prow, his hair, brown and bushy, bleached by exposure to sun and wind, his beard shaggy and unkempt, his seafaring costume having for design a diabolical devil-fish.

For contrast, Heiyemon, a servant to one of the Forty-seven Ronin, who undergoes a struggle between filial duty and faithfulness to the loyal retainers. Heavy-hearted he leaves home, saying farewell to father, wife, and child, knowing that he may never see them again. He stops to rest in the shade of the big pine trees that line the great highway, the Tokaido, and to eat the simple boiled rice his wife has prepared for him. Home-sickness overtakes him, and he cannot touch the food. Doves fly down from the trees above, and they make him think all the more of home. He must see his father once more, and apologise to him for his neglect; he must show his heart, and tell of his secret intention to join the band. But when he starts, remembrance of the cause he has espoused pulls him back. Wavering between the two desires, he sees the mother dove has fallen to the ground dead, and the young ones hover about her as though bereft. Casting all scruples to the winds, he runs homeward, only to find that his father was aware of his undisclosed plan, and the better to aid him has committed suicide that he may be free to devote himself to the great cause.

Kochiyama, a crafty priest of low rank, visits the mansion of a daimyo, and passes himself off as a prince of royal blood at the head of a great temple. He makes a striking figure in his white inner garment and thin scarlet outer robe, and is treated with every mark of respect. Knowing of a scandal within the household, he seeks to profit. He tells the lord he will lose all his possessions should the affair be made known. The maids spread a fine feast in front of him, but he waves it aside, saying that he would prefer a drink of the tea brewed from the golden globe flower. Acting on the hint, the steward of the household brings him the required hush money. On his departure he coolly confesses the game he has played, and laughs insolently at the enraged servants of the daimyo. On the hanamichi he meets with a confederate and counts the booty.