A Japanese Family At Home

Northern Advocate, 3 June 1939, Page 2 (Supplement)

A Japanese Family At Home

Japanese rarely entertain aliens In their homes. They are somewhat sensitive about differences in tastes and customs and prefer to invite foreign friends and acquaintances to some neutral place, such as a club, or restaurant, whether foreign style or Japanese, writes W. H. Chamberlin in the “Christian Science Monitor.” This fact made all the more welcome an invitation to tea and dinner at the home of the hospitable Mr W., a leading Kioto silk manufacturer, who is also a keen amateur gardener and connoisseur of Japanese art.

As we drove up to the house at the appointed time in the afternoon we found our host and hostess, with their eldest son. daughter, daughter-in-law, and a retinue of servants, waiting for us at the entrance and bowing to the ground in old-fashioned Japanese fashion. which we awkwardly attempted to reciprocate. The servants quickly removed our shoes (foreigners who are visiting a Japanese home must always see that their socks and stockings are free from ebarrassing holes and patches) and slipped felt slippers over our feet.

Then the family conducted us to their main guest room, which was furnished in foreign style somewhat reminiscent of the Victorian era. There were several heavy upholstered sofas

and armchairs, with a round table and

chairs in front of a fireplace, in which

no fire was burning, for Japanese, even

of the wealthy class, do not pamper themselves with heat. Rich carpels were on the floors and on the walls were embroidered tapestries and some conventional landscape oil paintings. On a few lacquer tables stood Japanese bric-a-brac.

Every member of the family wore ceremonial Japanese clothing, except the son, who, like most Japanese young men, had apparently permanently adopted Western clothes. The younger women wore beautiful and brightly coloured kimonos. Their hair, however, was not dressed in the older Japanese fashion, but was arranged in waves and ringlets, with benefit of a “permanent.” -

After we were seated, the unsweetened tea, which is the chief national beverage of Japan, was passed around. Throughout the afternoon and the evening the daughter and daughter-in-law waited on us, as the familiar mark of deference to a guest, although at least a dozen servants were visible at various times. After a little conversation we were invited to step out into the garden, which, in the usual Japanese fashion, was visible from almost every room in the house.

Just outside the door was a large artificial pend filled with carp of strikingly varied colours, green, gold, red. and purple, with stripes of various shades. The Japanese fondness for taking photographs then appeared: chairs were neatly arranged and we were photographed with the entire family. We saw another proof of this fondness later when, during the dinner, an album with numerous photographs of Mr W. on a trip through Europe and America was produced.

The garden, over three hundred years oid, was laid out in the conventional Japanese manner, representing a miniature landscape, with a brook, several small bridges, stones piled in fantastic shapes, dwarf trees, flowers, and shrubs. Pine trees predominated, since the Japanese like to preserve continuous green in their gardens. Moreover, the pines are supposed to symbolise sturdiness, loyalty and longevity.

When we had completed the tour of the garden we were invited into a small house, especially constructed for the performance of the famous Japanese social rite of tea ceremony. We all squatted on mats in the bare little room, the chief decoration of which was a scroll with a specimen of fine calligraphy by the father of the present Premier, Prince Fumimaro Konoye. Our hosts were graceful; our own postures were less at ease.

The daughter-in-law performed the “ceremony'’ of preparing and pouring the tea with slow, charming, rhythmical movements, each of which, to the initiated, possess symbolic significance. Tea ceremony Is one of the most highly prized feminine social accomplishments in Japan; and its performance, simple as it seems, requires years of study and practice before it can be carried out in proper traditional fashion. The daughter served us with little cups of the ceremonial tea, which in texture and taste suggested a thick and bitter pea soup, rather than any known brand of tea. Mr W. gave an illustration of how the tea should be quaffed, in precisely three and a half sips.

A trip through the many rooms of the house, bare of furniture as Japanese rooms usually are, but ornamented with scrolls, screen paintings, and vases, ended in the spacious dining room, where our hosts invited us to sit clcse to the wall hanging of the room, which is the place of honour reserved for guests. Mr and Mrs W. sat opposite us; their sen sat in a nearby corner, while the daughter and daughter-in-law served. No member of the family, except the father and mother ate; and the younger Mr W. explained that, as a mark of courtesy, only the heads of the family oat with guests.

The dinner consisted largely of fish —fried, boiled, baked and shredded—served in dainty lacquer dishes on beautiful lacquer trays. Interspersed with the fish courses were pickled vegetables, soups. Japanese sweetmeats, rice, and green tea: altogether there were about 20 courses, with cantaloupe as a Western touch at the end.

During the dinner, Mr W. set forth his views on the present conflict, which were those of a staunch Japanese nationalist. Japan, he was sure, could defeat not only China, but also the Soviet Union, because in those countries the peoples were oppressed by their Governments, while in Japan, people and Government were one.

To an outside spectator there might have seemed something prescribed, almost constrained, in this Japanese entertainment. where so much was done according to immutable rules. But for one who was the recipient of this hospitality and could feel how much genuine good will accompanied, it was easy to realise that for the Japanese these elaborate social conventions are quite alive and are cherished as a link in the long chain of tradition and form that makes for the unity of the people,