Paper short abstract:

Following a discussion of a concept of ‘books for children’ in the (late) Edo period, this paper will analyze several kusazōshi about Yoshitsune that try to engage an audience of children and offer social guidance for life lived in the present and the future.

Paper long abstract:

The appearance of modern children’s literature in Japan is closely related to paradigmatic changes in the perception of children and childhood during the late Meiji and Taishō period. Karatani Kōjin (1993), for example, has argued that children’s literature only appeared in the early twentieth century, with Western concepts of childhood rooted in Romanticism and psychology. Consequently, Edo period books specifically aimed at children have been largely overlooked in conceptualizing children’s literature in Japan. However, the wider field of children’s literature studies acknowledges various perceptions of the genre (e.g., Nodelman 2008), and a considerable body of research focuses on children’s books broadly defined as a reflection of (or challenge to) social norms, beliefs, gender roles, and canonical knowledge. In this vein, we may identify works for children among the highly picture-oriented kusazōshi of the (early) eighteenth century (e.g., Williams 2012, Moretti 2016). The more sophisticated kusazōshi of the later Edo period, i.e., kibyōshi and gōkan, are however almost exclusively associated with a popular adult audience. Thus, late Edo fiction aimed at children has suffered neglect from the discipline of modern children’s literature as well as early modern book studies.

Legends about famous warriors were closely associated with children, and continuously appeared in eighteenth and nineteenth century kusazōshi of a straightforward nature, that would primarily have appealed to those with yet limited cultural knowledge. After discussing the notion of ‘children’s books’ in an Edo period context, I will analyze several kusazōshi about arguably the most popular protagonist, namely Minamoto no Yoshitsune (1159-1189). I will make three arguments. First, the text and images not only introduce children to an important cultural icon, but also steer their audience towards contemporary social norms and gendered models of behavior. Second, the form and content of these books challenge the idea of a ‘main legend’ concerned with tragic heroism (Morris 1975). Finally, through an example of a Meiji period adaptation, I will argue that the Edo period heritage played an important role in the decoding of the concept of children's literature, as it existed in the nineteenth century West, and its implementation in a Japanese context.

Paper short abstract:

Knowledge of the unfamiliar and exotic was in high demand in late Edo Japan, yet also strictly controlled. How could content creators satisfy demand without violating government sanctions? This paper explores the use of gōkan, a pictorial fiction genre, to introduce foreign worlds to common readers.

Paper long abstract:

Just after the return of the first Bakufu embassy to the United States in Man'en 1 (1860), Edo publisher Yamadaya Shōjirō began release of a serialized gōkan titled Osana etoki bankoku banashi (A Child's Illustrated Countries of the World; story by Kanagaki Robun and art by Utagawa Yoshitora). Reading it now we might well wonder at the curious blend of geographical textbook elements with a fantastical plot told as a traditional adventure narrative, all wrapped in extraordinary images of the world beyond Japan. We see the young Queen of England menacing Georce Washington's parents, George Washington himself punching a tiger, his loyal friend John Adams slaying a giant serpent that has just eaten Adams' own mother--an imaginative refraction of the origin story of the United States told in a visual-verbal medium with a result reminiscent of today's manga and superhero comics.

While probably unfamiliar to most readers today, this book is a representative example of a once flourishing genre called gōkan, a term meaning literally "combined booklets/chapters," but which Ellis Tinios has defined as "richly illustrated small format serial novels." For their arresting images, simple text, and gripping narratives they are often dismissed as mere pulp fiction—yet in the context of their own time gōkan could be important vehicles for knowledge distribution. In my paper I examine the European sources behind this particular text, and also consider some other examples of informational gōkan focussed on Japan, with a view to reappraising the role of this entertainment genre within the late Edo knowledge economy. Gōkan's status as fiction gave it license to report new information without claiming authority or directly challenging orthodox views. I argue that gōkan, already established as a versatile form with broad reach, served as an integral part of an extensive if informal program of knowledge production for the popular Japanese market in response to the rapidly changing international and domestic situation of Bakumatsu Japan, and even on into the early years of the Meiji era.

Paper short abstract:

This paper documents, for the first time, the precise print history and development of three translations of Tosa Nikki, an exemplary "diary literature" of Japan written in the 10th century, attempted by Flora Best Harris between 1882-1910, which coincides with the developing years of Japanology.

Paper long abstract:

The fact that Tosa Nikki, an exemplary "diary literature" of Japan written by Ki no Tsurayuki in c935, was translated by at least five Japanologists, duly suggests its importance. What has been largely overlooked in the past studies is, however, that Flora Best Harris (1850-1909), the first person to tackle this mission, went on to translate this work on three different occasions between 1882-1910.

To document, for the first time, the precise print history and development of her translations, is the primary purpose of this paper. On top of this, however, the author wishes to shed proper light on the life and achievements of this pioneering scholar of Japanese literature who has been significantly underrated, if not neglected altogether. Harris is chiefly remembered as the wife of missionary Merriman Colbert Harris, and less so as an educator of young women and a poet. Even more surprisingly, her role as an early Japanologist and translator seems to be considered as the least significant of her endeavors.

What are the reasons for such a misconception and underestimation? Was it solely gender, or were there other factors? What did her contemporaries think of her? What was going on in the "mainstream" Japanology of the period, and how did Harris participate in it? By asking these questions, we should be able to better assess the achievements of Harris, and how her trials have pushed Japanology forward in its developing years.