This article was published in the journal Jogaku zasshi on October 18, 1890.
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I am well aware that by directing the blunt, unrefined language of a rustic country bumpkin toward Jogaku zasshi a publication currently enjoying widespread public acclaim, and held in particularly high regard by ladies of the upper class, I am deliberately inviting others to dislike me. Yet, as I recently heard a farmer remark, ‘The winds of Tōtōmi are fierce, and that is precisely why the roots of the pine trees grow so firm’. It may well be that harsh criticism, and severe debate will serve to strengthen this magazine; it is for this reason that I have penned these words.
1. The Good Fortune of Jogaku Zasshi
Because Jogaku zasshi emerged at a moment when its own character and the prevailing circumstances were in perfect harmony, it was blessed with good fortune. Now, as a formidable, reactionary wind threatens to make its situation difficult, the magazine has already managed to sink its roots deep and solidify the ground upon which it stands. In this respect, it shares a similar stroke of luck with Kokumin no tomo; both were able to raise their ramparts and deepen their moats before the enemy arrived.
If we were to bring into existence today a publication with the tone of The Kokumin no tomo, with its Manchester-style economic liberalism and Christian morality, countless criticisms, mocking laughter, slander and abuse would gather like clouds over its benevolent activities, preventing it from displaying its full intellectual and spiritual character. It would be like the great Ōe Gijuku, which, as it were, stood isolated amid a surrounding camp of advocates of national rights.
Indeed, if we were to bring into existence today, a time when Enomoto Takeaki advocates Confucianism, a magazine like Jogaku zasshi, whose foundations rested upon discussions of relations between men and women, the ideal gentleman, and the home, a merciless storm would surely break its delicate branches. Therefore, I am deeply grateful and rejoice that these two great fortresses have been preserved for the sake of our cause under the protection of Heaven’s providence. But if these fortresses fail to repel the barbarians and instead welcome them, or if their guards become negligent and fall asleep, our cause will be in danger unless we construct other fortresses. O fortress of our cause! I hope that you will recognise the exceedingly great and lofty nature of your mission and remain vigilant and apprehensive. I also hope that you will remain strong and steadfast.
2. The Principles of Jogaku zasshi
Jogaku zasshi did not emerge aimlessly; from its very inception, it possessed an ideal toward which it was destined to strive. Though the circumstances surrounding it, much like the Sea of Galilee, have tossed and buffeted its vessel, I have yet to observe any shift in its core principles. While Kokumin no tomo, a publication intended as its close companion, seems to have somewhat diminished in its original fervour, Jogaku zasshi appears, if anything, to be projecting an even grander, more expansive vision. Today, alongside its new associate, Nihon hyōron, it continues to articulate its principles, the one with a resolute, unyielding spirit, the other with deep, heartfelt passion, more openly and boldly than ever. In this, I believe, it demonstrates a keen understanding of the right moment to act. Where there is a strong reactionary force, there must also be a strong, proactive counter-force. If, because the reactionary pressure is so intense, one were to allow oneself to be swept away into its vortex, or to seek refuge in ambiguity, silence, or self-distortion, such a course might be a ‘wise’ strategy for self-preservation, but it would inevitably lead to the decay of one’s own unique identity. I hold Jogaku zasshi in high regard precisely because it has successfully maintained its own distinct character.
3. The Compassionate Nature of Jogaku zasshi
Jogaku zasshi possesses a youthful, spirited vocation. It has cultivated a philosophy of tears, a capacity for profound empathy, dedicated to the poor. It always resonates with calls for charity and relief, and it possesses the power to inspire others to resonate as well. Furthermore, with eyes full of compassion, it has sought to introduce to the world those whom society has scorned, writers overlooked by the masses, and artists ignored by the unseeing public. It has composed heartfelt tributes to obscure students and endeavoured to provide various forms of support for self-taught individuals in the countryside. In this regard, one might say it is not so much ‘impartial’ as it is ‘partial’, yet this partiality stems from a deep, tear-filled compassion. It seems to me that she has consistently shown greater sympathy for the obscure than for the celebrated, for those who harbor aspirations rather than those who have already fulfilled them, and for the destitute rather than the affluent. Perhaps this very tendency is one of the reasons she has garnered the reputation she holds in the world today. Just as one might place a heavy object on one side of a scale, there must inevitably be someone to place a counterweight on the other. Her ‘dissonance’, her tendency to strike a different note, is, in fact, an indispensable element in maintaining the equilibrium of social forces.
4. Regarding the appearance of Jogaku zasshi
It is much like a young lady, raised in seclusion, who, upon entering society, gradually refines her demeanour, guided by her own keen intelligence. The awkwardness and disarray that once gave her the air of a ‘country girl’ have long since settled away; she has become dignified, substantial, and elegant. Yet, I must assert that she did not necessarily strive for this refinement herself. Rather, it is because the men and women around her, that is to say, the various other magazines, helped to polish her style and soften her bearing, that she has arrived at her present state. She possesses a distinct character, and consequently, she has a message to convey. She is a woman transformed, a female prophet, as it were. With her face carefully made up, her head adorned, her throat pale, her cheeks flushed, and her eyebrows long and dark, she is, in every sense, a female sage or seeker of the Way. Those who hold her in high regard should cherish the spirit that dwells beneath her attire; only after that should they concern themselves with her outward appearance.
5. Regarding the essays and arguments found in Jogaku zasshi – specifically its editorials
I must state, even if it runs counter to public opinion or risks provoking the ire of its devoted readers, that the quality of its writing and the depth of its arguments are not as significant as the world might believe. In terms of literary style, Jogaku zasshi must look up to Kokumin no tomo as an elder brother, a mentor from whom it ought to take instruction, for its own style has yet to reach full maturity. It is my view that both Jogaku zasshi and Nihon hyōron, referring here specifically to their respective editorials, share this same shortcoming. The superiority of Kokumin no tomo in terms of literary style does not stem merely from its hybrid composition, a blend of Japanese, Classical Chinese, and Western elements, but rather from the fact that these three components are so skilfully harmonized that they form a distinct, unified style of its own. In other words, Kokumin no tomo has succeeded in forging a unique literary style through rigorous practice (or perhaps, through original creative effort). It has effectively achieved a seamless integration and harmony within its prose. Jogaku zasshi by contrast, has yet to fully realize its own definitive form.
Furthermore, regarding its prose, Jogaku zasshi frequently employs parallelisms, or indirect parallelisms, which often compromise the conciseness of its meaning. At times, the transitions between paragraphs, intended to connect one idea to the next, are so abrupt that they resemble a vast, unbridgeable chasm, severing the flow of thought and obscuring the clarity of the argument. The text often wanders into digressions or peripheral commentary, straying from the main subject before returning to it, a process that leaves behind visible, clumsy traces of revision. It also tends to belabour self-evident points and shows a lack of mastery in the literary technique of ‘concise omission’, a principle captured by the adage that ‘the half is greater than the whole’. Such shortcomings indicate that Jogaku zasshi is still in a transitional phase, yet to reach the maturity it may one day attain.
The discussions in Jogaku zasshi are characterized by an earnest tone, yet they fail to reveal any profound or original power of thought. Because the writers are driven by an intense, burning passion, an ardent devotion to the good and a fierce hatred for evil, their prose is often compelling to read; however, once one strips away this emotional veneer, it becomes clear that their arguments have already been voiced elsewhere. They are adept at responding, but not at creating; they know how to weep, but not how to play. They have published treatises on poetry, calling for the emergence of a new poet, and have expressed deep admiration for the monk Saigyō. But in terms of the core argument, how does their discourse on the ‘poet-sage’ differ from the series of essays on poets previously published by Min’yūsha? As for introducing the monk Saigyō to the public, they, along with the critic Mr. Uemura, followed in the footsteps of others; the only distinction is that their accounts were more detailed. Their arguments for the abolition of prostitution are entirely formulaic, yet the reason these arguments still resonate with the clarity and weight of metal striking stone is that they have passed through the crucible of an earnest mind. They possess ‘good sense’, but they have yet to attain genius’. I offer harsh criticism because I desire her progress.
