The First European Description of Japan, 1585 (11 page)

7a. Our pants and imperial breeches are made of silk with gold worked in; while other clothing may be of silk, Japanese underpants are always made of coarse or ordinary cotton
.
³¹

Decorated Japanese screens or
byôbus
from the sixteenth century depict Portuguese merchants wearing ankle-length, billowing pants or pantaloons in various colors and rich fabrics.
³²
Although the Jesuits admired the Japanese embrace of simplicity, they more frequently celebrated the material wealth and presumed progress of Christian Europe, as evidenced by significant investments of gold in baroque architecture and, in this instance, pantaloons. The Japanese did not wear trousers much, but when they did, they wore trousers of hemp and cotton because they were stronger and cooler than silk (again, summers are very hot and humid in much of Japan).
Nuno
, which is the Japanese term for ordinary cotton, is relatively cheap and was/is used for sundry purposes, including head-bands and house-cleaning.

8a. Among us, no item of men's clothing is suited for use by women; the Japanese kimono and thin robe are suited for men and women alike
.

Up until the ninth century, when the Germans introduced breeches, European clothing tended to be unisex and followed Roman precedents (i.e. togas and tunics).
³³
Although both Japanese men and women may wear kimono or
katabira
, they do not wear them in quite the same way. Belts, for instance, are tied in different places (high for women and low for men) and some colors are gender specific.

9a. Our clothing is fitted, narrow, and tight on the body; Japanese clothing is so loose-fitting that people rapidly and without embarrassment disrobe from the waist up
.

Most restrictive Western attire is poorly suited to muggy weather. During the summer most Japanese (excepting nobles, who often wore fine white cotton under gowns) wore a lightweight robe or kimono, which both men and women often would remove above the waist while indoors, or conversely, tuck up under their
belt when on the road. Prior to the opening of Japan to Western influence in the mid-nineteenth century, such innocent nudity was quite common, even in cities. Writing in 1562, the Jesuit de Almeida noted that the relative ease with which the Japanese could disrobe made it easy to scourge oneself!
³⁴

As an aside, not all Japanese fashion is loose and comfortable; far from it. When one of us (Gill) appeared on Japanese late-night television, he was cinched up in a kimono as stiff as a straightjacket. Formality, in the East or West, can be excruciating.

10a. Because of our buttons and lacings, we cannot easily keep our hands close to our bodies; since Japanese men and women are not thus restricted, they always leave their sleeves hanging empty and pull their hands in close to their bodies, especially in winter
.

With minimal heating (see
Chapter 5
on houses) and no wool to speak of, the Japanese understandably conserved body heat by withdrawing into their kimonos. Frois' Jesuit contemporary, Rodrigues, noted that this withdrawal also was useful in hot weather, as “… people can insert their hands inside with the greatest of ease and wipe away body sweat with a handkerchief.”
³⁵
However, to do so in the presence of nobles, one's master, or on formal occasions was a grave discourtesy and impertinence. Today on television “Easterns,” loose-dangling sleeves are a mark of the gambler and other social misfits.

11a. We wear our best clothing on the outside and our lesser clothing underneath; the Japanese wear their best underneath and their lesser clothing on top
.

It is not known if this inside-outside reversal began in Japan because the best dress was preserved for one's intimates, because of sartorial regulations, or simply out of fear of envy (or maybe being noticed by the tax collector). Today it is usually explained in terms of a subtle Japanese aesthetic preference.

12a. With us, the outside of a garment must be better than the lining; among the Japanese gentry, their dobukus whenever possible have linings that are better than the exterior of the garment
.

Dobuku
is a Japanese term that transliterates as “torso-wear.” Frois apparently had in mind
dobuku
with linings of silk. Like Japanese trousers,
dobuku
originated in China and usually were sleeveless. This torso-wear evolved during the Tokugawa era into the silk
haori
, which usually had sleeves and was always lined. For two and a half centuries, wealthy merchants and townsmen vied with one another for the most ornate lining for their plain black
haori
. There is aesthetic pleasure in this inside-outism: the plain black outside of the
hoari
makes the inside seem magical, like the once hidden contents of a geode.

13a. We wear vests made from animal hides with their fur on the inside; Japanese vests have the fur on the outside
.

Europeans, including the Portuguese, were wild about fur linings and clothing accents, despite sumptuary laws that tried, unsuccessfully, to curb public affection
for furs.
³⁶
In light of 12a above, as well as Japan's Buddhist heritage, which frowned on killing animals, it is doubly surprising that the Japanese wore fur vests with the fur showing. Today fur vests are rare and are seen primarily on elderly women out for their New Year's shrine visit or young ladies celebrating adulthood and their twentieth birthday.

14a. Among us a man cuts his hair or shaves his head to alleviate suffering
³⁷
; the Japanese shave their heads out of grief or sorrow or because they have fallen from their master's grace
.

Both Europeans and the Japanese shaved their heads to alleviate suffering from lice. Frois is nevertheless correct in emphasizing how the Japanese shaved their heads as an act of grieving. Correspondingly, those in mourning largely ignored their personal grooming for months and did not clean their houses either. Even today, men of means let themselves go for a year after their father dies. However, perhaps the most common reason for shaving one's head (as opposed to having one's topknot cut) signified a do-or-die determination. Better to shave off one's hair–literally “round one's head” (
atama-o marumeru
)–to show contrition and determination to make a fresh start, than cut off a finger in the style of the courtesan or
yakuza
. The Japanese also shaved their heads to signal retirement from the world.

15a. Among us one shaves his beard when he wants to enter a religious order; the Japanese cut off the tuft of hair on the back of their head as a sign that they have left behind the concerns of the material world
.

As noted, Europeans equated beards and hair in general with power and virility. Accordingly, individuals who surrendered themselves to God shaved their beards, signaling “contempt for the world.” Shaving one's beard made less sense in the Far East, where many men have little beard to speak of. Shaving off one's topknot to signal a profound life change made more sense for the Japanese, who, like other Asians, ordinarily have a full head of hair. Like head-shaving, cutting off one's topknot could symbolize “burning the bridge” and setting off on an endeavor that was likely to get one killed. Even the Japanese language seems to reflect this behavior, for to make up one's mind once and for all is most commonly expressed by the double-verb
omoi-kitte
, or “think-cut.” Today, such haircuts are commonly the final and most dramatic part of an always tearful ceremony undertaken by retiring sumo wrestlers. Frois here failed to mention that Japanese samurai, when taken prisoner, also have their topknot removed (see
6a
).

As an aside, the Japanese relationship to hair is fascinating for its ambiguity. One word for hair,
kami
, is homophonic with “god(s)” while another,
ke
, is homophonic with “filth/pollution.” Being on top of the body (kami also means “upper”), hair is pure. However, an abundance of hair was associated with Japan's own “primitives,” the Ainu, and later the “barbarian” West. Moreover, hair was associated with desire, although not as clearly as in Korean (Japanese's only cognate language).

16a. We fold our robes right over left; the Japanese do it left over right
.

Wrapping the edge of one's garment right-over-left is called “left gusset” (
sajin
) and was used by the Chinese as a derogatory term for “barbarians,” including their early medieval kin, the Japanese. In 719 C.E. the Japanese officially switched to left-over-right (
ujin
). Eight-hundred years later they called Western visitors like Frois and Rodrigues “left-gussets.” Then as now, the left has sinister connotations in Japanese as in Western languages. In the West today, men's shirts, jackets and coats button left over right, and the cover over the fly on men's trousers also is open on the right. Likewise, the ‘proper' way for a man to wear a belt on his pants is so that it crosses left to right across the midriff and through the buckle. Women's wear, in contrast, is assembled so that it crosses right to left.

17a. Our shirts
³⁸
have ruffs and are closed in the front; Japanese katabiras have no collars and are open in the front
.

Ruffled or pleated collars were all the rage in sixteenth century Europe. The ruff actually was separate from the shirt and was easily removed and washed, thus protecting the neck of the more expensive doublet from getting soiled.

This is yet another open and closed contrast deriving largely from the different climate of Europe and Japan. Today Western clothing is the norm in Japan. Shirts worn by white-collar workers are called
wai-shyatsu
, from “white shirt,” although they need not be white any more than our “blankets” (from the French ‘blanc' or white).

18a. We store our clothing by folding it with the outside in and the inside out; the Japanese fold theirs with the inside out and the outside in
.

Today it would seem that most people in the West (at least those who fold clothes) do so in the “Japanese” style. As is true for many things, the Japanese, for their part, still maintain two styles. They put away
wafuku
(“gentle-dress” or Japanese clothing) in the Japanese style and
yofuku
(“ocean-dress” or Western clothing) in the Medieval/Renaissance/Western style.

19a. Our handkerchiefs are made of very fine cloth, embroidered or with fringes, etc.; some Japanese handkerchiefs are made of something similar to heavy tow cloth
³⁹
and others are made of paper
.

According to Marques,
⁴⁰
Europeans rediscovered the handkerchief (the Romans were fond of them) during the Renaissance and only during the sixteenth century was it used outside Italy to dry perspiration or blow one's nose. Japanese rags or paper used for wiping brows, drying hands, and such were probably as beautiful in their way as the ornate European handkerchiefs mentioned by Frois. Today many visitors to Japan quickly come to appreciate their naturally colored handmade paper and the simple prints on Japanese
tenugui
(a handkerchief used to wipe sweat, rolled up as a sweat-band, or tied as a wrapped cap). As noted in the critical introduction, in Frois' time the Japanese used disposable tissues for
blowing noses, and these were collected and recycled. (Even today one can find plentiful boxes of tissues and even bare rolls of toilet paper on desks in offices).

20a. We show courtesy by removing our hats; the Japanese show it by removing their shoes
.

Note the parallel with servants mentioned in 29a, below. There is a slight incommensurability in Frois' contrast, as Europeans usually tipped and sometimes removed their hats to acknowledge equals. In the Japanese case, this courtesy is shown by a slight bow. The removal of shoes was more a matter of signaling respect and class status. Thus, the pariah class (
eta
) in Japan was not permitted to wear footwear in anyone's presence, ostensibly because it would be inappropriate for their “animal” (
yotsu
or four-footed) identity, and logically because they were the inferiors of all and had to remain physically lower. Today, no one in Japan removes footwear to show respect.

21a. We use a double-edged sword; the Japanese use a cutlass
⁴¹
that has only a single cutting edge
.

As the sixteenth century unfolded, Europe's elite increasing came from among the ranks of the well-educated, particularly in rhetoric and law. Still, Europe remained a sufficiently violent place (see
Chapter 14
) and the society as a whole clung to the medieval idea that elites enjoyed their power and privilege because they were protectors and defenders of the less fortunate. Thus in Europe, and perhaps more so Japan, swords were a big part of elite identity. While European swords were quite variable, many elites wore a straight, narrow-bladed, double-edged rapier such as the Spanish
espada ropera
. European swords were designed mostly for stabbing or thrusting. The Japanese samurai did little of the latter; his razor-sharp cutlass was designed for slashing and removing body parts, especially heads!
⁴²
(see
28a
and
Chapter 7
).

22a. Our scabbards are made of leather or velvet
⁴³
; the Japanese use lacquered wood, except their nobles, whose scabbards are covered with gold or silver
.

The lacquered wood usually was
magnolia hypoleuca
(black rather than the vermillion that often was used for plates), which protected the blade equally as well as, or better than leather or felt. Elsewhere Frois noted that the thickness of the gilt on Japanese scabbards depended on an individual's wealth.

23a. Our swords have chapes, hilts and pommels; Japanese swords have none of these things
.