Chapter 5
The Road to Success

Be honest, faithful, industrious, save your money.
Be industrious; be earnest; be truthful; and don't take a drink
     during business hours.
Work to the interest of the man who employs you. . . .
Select an occupation, stick to it, don't touch liquor, tobacco, or
     cards; keep away from fast women. . . .
Stick to your business; don't get discouraged; seize your
     opportunities.
Be honest, hard working, and accurate.

The secrets of success as enunciated by a number of "great men" in the United States were displayed prominently in the July 1, 1904, issue of the magazine Seiko^[*] (Success).^[1] The great men included "the shoe manufacturer, Douglas," "the medical doctor, Atkinson," and "the library director, Jones." These names were not easily recognizable by the average American, but what average Japanese knew that? Drawing their lessons from the sayings and lives of men who had achieved success on a grand scale in the United States—the Andrew Carnegies, John D. Rockefellers, Theodore Roosevelts—the self-help and success journals of Meiji Japan taught their readers about the inventiveness, industriousness, and dedication of the movers of American capitalism. Some British and a few French and German models dotted the pages of Seiko^[*] , and following Japan's victories in the military arena, particularly after the Russo-Japanese War, Japanese examples began to appear, articulating lessons prescribed By leaders in government,

business, the professions, and the arts. However, the American examples were by far the most numerous.

The articles about the United States, in particular the ones that told of Japanese perceptions about American success, give us some understanding about the vision held by educated urban youth who desired to go to the United States. Achieving success did not only mean that one possessed the virtues of hard work, perseverance, frugality, dedication, and so on, which the "great Americans" displayed and which belonged to the Japanese work ethic as well. It also meant that one had learned and was cognizant of special attributes that were basic to the Americans' accomplishments. If understood correctly, they could launch Japanese youth on their own road to success.

What special attributes were deemed important? What justifications were offered for devoting one's life to money-making and gaining material wealth? To us, almost a century later, writings concerning these issues seem extremely naïve and idealistic. However, it is clear that they were written with great seriousness, whether they were half-page commentaries on attitudes toward success or long dramatic fables charting the course of a young man's ascent up the mountain of success, complete with swamps, deep forests, turbulent rivers, and boulders to symbolize the setbacks he experienced en route. The discussions tended to belittle what were considered pre-Meiji Japanese qualities, explicitly or implicitly, and could easily have led some readers to assume that anything "backward or regressive" must be Japanese.

In the aforementioned issue of Seiko^[*], the short, one-sentence principles were printed in two columns: one in English, the other in Japanese in the imperative form conforming to the English originals. What is striking about these lists, of course, is that they included the English, a message as important as the principles themselves. This bears consideration, for it goes beyond the obvious emphasis of learning English as one of the prerequisites to the road to success.

Undoubtedly, individual Japanese needed foreign language skills to conduct trade with Westerners or to acquire technical knowledge. Knowing a foreign language was necessary for a kindai individual's self-esteem. But why English? Why not the other European languages? Voices extolling continental European languages and cultures, after all, were not silent. However, the stress on English as the preferred foreign language and the United States and Great Britain as the preferred cultures/nations was an important acknowledgment of the historical and political developments of the time. Both countries exemplified in-

dustrial growth and progress. Britain was the major imperial power of the nineteenth century. The United States followed closely behind and then secured an almost equivalent position in the first decade of the twentieth century. Moreover, the newer country had the advantage of an expansive land mass and vast resources, material qualities important in shaping what some contemporary Japanese writers described as the typically American traits of invention, talent, enterprise, adventure, and even romance.

The emphasis placed on the learning of English paralleled the increased use of English-language phrases and words in Japanese, a development that occurred in conjunction with the establishment of Yama-note speech as the official form for kindai Japanese. Dutch, Portuguese, and bits of Spanish had filtered into the Japanese language during the Tokugawa era, but in early Meiji, newly introduced products of everyday use—clothing, furniture, toilet articles, housewares, food—her-alded the growing "Japanizing" of English words.^[2] New technology and the reshaping of material culture resulted in words such as uski^[*];, samichi, and torampu, early Japanese counterparts of "whiskey," "sandwich," and "playing cards" (probably taken from "trump"). The still-used baketsu (bucket), matchi (matches), and tonneru (tunnel) developed somewhat later. Compound Chinese characters were devised to express some of the new material products—kisha (train), yofuku^[*] (Western clothing), denpo^[*] ( telegraph )—but in the main English words, with a sprinkling of German and French, were absorbed to form new Japanese words.^[3] As time passed some meanings went through subtle but definable alterations. Haikara, first used in 1898, was taken from "high collar." Originally a term of contempt to designate "snobs who returned from abroad," within a short time it took on a new meaning—"stylish" or "chic"—which it retains to this day.^[4] These were not translations. They were foreign words with distinct Japanese inflections and sounds that eventually merged into the Japanese language and became accepted virtually without reference to their foreign origins.

The introduction, increased usage, and final inclusion of these terms form a basis for analyzing kindai and its relationship to the absorption of "Americanness" on the road to success. Japan was not a stranger to the cataclysmic results of European colonization and empire, in which non-European histories, regions, and countries became abruptly segmented, fragmented, and stigmatized. In fact, in the early Meiji period the adoption of English as the national language was briefly contemplated.^[5] However, Japan was not going to succumb to passivity nor

accept an inferior position in that kind of colonial world. The country had an overwhelming sense of the dominant Western Other and single-mindedly sought membership in that coveted realm of dominance. In order to effect this, a unique and cosmopolitan construction of the Japanese identity had to be shaped—not a mirror image of the West but an assertive and self-conscious "Japaneseness" as the basis of kindai language, lifestyles, attitudes, and behavior. Care had to be taken so the West would not accuse the nation of mere imitation, although Japan never succeeded totally in escaping that charge. Ultimately, the Japanese wanted the Western capitalist world to acknowledge their endeavors as legitimate, acceptable, and appropriate.

The entry of new Japanese words with English roots into the vernacular was an important step in the shaping of the new Japanese identity. This occurred in conjunction with the emergence of a new socioeconomic class, the molding of the Tokyojin, and with state decisions regarding emigration laws, passport regulations, education, military service, and civil behavior. For our purposes, one of the most relevant areas of the complex process of shaping this new identity was what Japanese knew (or thought they knew) about the United States. The image of the United States that was created in conjunction with the self-definition of the kindai Japanese is crucial in analyzing the decision of some churyukaikyu^[*] Tokyojin to leave Japan for the United States.

In 1900 youth who had entered public schools when the compulsory education system became solidified were twenty years old and faced major decisions about their adult lives. More students were finishing middle school, particularly in the cities.^[6] The people with whom we are dealing were not the average or typical Japanese youth of the period; those who finally made their way to New York City constituted a small minority. However, they were among the many young people who congregated in the cities, specifically Tokyo, hoping to take advantage of specialized technical and educational facilities or to work in non-laboring jobs commensurate with their educational achievements. Armed with their hopes and ideals, they looked for ways to be the exceptions, to overcome the fides of the times and embark on the practical road to success.

The Tokyo publishing world provided an array of reading matter for these individuals. Self-advancement publications, books, and articles on a variety of subjects appeared for a variety of youth: students of English, business, science, and legal studies; girls and boys; young kindai women and men; consumers; housewives; the literati. Many were published by

a single publishing house, Hakubunkan, which dominated the publishing world to such an extent that the period from the mid-1890s to the early 1920s was called the Hakubunkan jidai (Hakubunkan period).^[7] Beginning with the publication in 1871 of the Japanese translation of Samuel Smiles's Self-Help, a book that emphasized individual responsibility in the development of the work ethic, such messages appeared in a wide array of youth magazines.^[8] The more popular publications had circulations ranging from 12,000 to about 16,000, and one even had a circulation of more than 500,000.^[9] Initially they catered to children from ten to fifteen years of age, but by the turn of the century the audience included young adults, indicative of the growing number of graduates of the Meiji school system.^[10] By that time the self-advancement publications had evolved to focus primarily on the notion of seiko^[*] . They not only impressed upon young minds the importance of the work ethic but also contained teachings on good manners, speech, and tasteful dress; educational and occupational opportunities; leisure activity; and ways to establish such enterprises as a tailor's shop, a pawnshop, or a usury business. What useful advice readers gained from this potpourri is questionable, but a young man of Meiji Japan learned that to be worthy one must possess diligence, assume wholesome and pragmatic attitudes toward making money, and display acceptable cosmopolitan behavior. Seiko^[*] had a double meaning. It connoted not only the final goal, which was the achievement of success, but also tenacious adherence to effective and utilitarian action in the pursuit of that goal.

The term began to be utilized widely during the years between the Sino- and Russo-Japanese Wars, a period of economic downturn. Discussions on seiko^[*] began to appear in magazines, including two major ones: Taiyo^[*], published by Hakubunkan, and Chuo^[*]koron^[*], which remains a popular journal for the intelligentsia. In 1902 a leading labor leader commented that there was "not a single place where the word 'success' is not to be seen."^[11] The post-Russo-Japanese War years in particular saw such a tremendous jump in the publication of popular success literature that one well-known member of the Meiji intelligentsia remarked that the readers' "eyes are like saucers.^[12] The magazine Seiko^[*] commenced publication in 1902, and its circulation rose to 15,000 within three years.^[13]

The writers of Seiko^[*] included a diverse group of intellectuals, businessmen, and journalists with backgrounds ranging from conservative to socialist to Christian, differentiating it from other youth magazines.^[14] In less than 100 pages, each issue of Seiko^[*] touched on a wide

variety of subject matter—ambition, literary pieces, biographies, moral training (consistently the largest section), confidence, philosophy of success, family, business, overseas activity, editorials, and English. The magazine was divided into sections, and the articles were concise, generally running a maximum of four or five pages. Its readership, judging from the emphasis on urban education and jobs and from readers' letters, consisted of Tokyo youth or rural youth who went to Tokyo to become students.^[15]Seiko^[*] echoed and reechoed the message that young people should first move to a city, preferably Tokyo, to prepare for adulthood.

Each issue included a three- to six-page section entitled "Kisha to dokusha" (reporter and reader) in which questions and answers were presented on a variety of topics, including travel abroad, schools and entrance examinations, jobs, health, medicine, parents, work-study, self-study, and counseling. The requests show that the majority of readers sought to enter some college or military, vocational, or technical school. Some wished to travel to the United States. Noticeably few aspired to government higher schools or imperial universities; in three randomly chosen 1909 issues of Seiko^[*] , only one question out of seventy-nine was about entering a government higher school. Seiko^[*] was less than encouraging about students' chances of obtaining an elite education and emphasized the difficulties of being accepted into the First or Third Higher Schools, a prerequisite for enrollment in an imperial university. It advised readers to try for the "most prestigious" private schools—Waseda, Tokyo College of Accounting, and Keio—and the government-sponsored Tokyo Higher Commercial College, even though the educational facilities of these schools were "somewhat imperfect" and "somewhat inadequate" and there was no guarantee that graduates could expect promising occupations.^[16]

In addition to Seiko^[*], there were a number of magazines, books, and pamphlets specifically devoted to tobei.^[17] More specific in their goals, these writings were aimed at young people who were convinced that their prospects for achievement lay on the opposite shore of the Pacific Ocean. Tobei shimpo^[*] (News on crossing to America), a monthly that began publishing in 1907, boasted sales in eighty bookstores in Tokyo the following year.^[18] Socialist Katayama Sen's introductory books about the United States were said to have sold to more than 100,000 readers.^[19]Tobei zasshi (Crossing to America magazine) and its successor, Amerika, organs of Katayama's tobei organization, devoted their pages to matters concerning the United States. It is significant that popular journals such as Seiko^[*], which were published for a general audi-

ence, nevertheless attached primary importance to American examples in their interpretations of the success ethic. All of these publications taught, entertained, and stimulated young adults who were, or desired to become, part of the rapidly forming churyukaikyu^[*] .

Hidden amid the array of articles reciting formulas for self-advancement and success, most of which repeated the "secrets of great Americans," lurked an important concept reminiscent of the individualistic and private ambitions depicted by Futabatei Shimei in Ukigumo. Although the many publications did not encourage baldly selfish behavior such as that displayed by Noboru, who disregarded coworkers and curried favor with superiors, they did stress that individual action was the key to success. The Japanese terms kojin and kojinteki —respectively, the noun and adjective forms of individual— were not used to express the specific behavior, but their essence was conveyed in the adjective sekkyokuteki (positive, active), such as in sekkyokuteki kodo^[*] (positive action).^[20]

In a 1904 article in Seiko^[*], "Gendai to sekkyokuteki hoshin^[*]" (A sekkyokuteki policy for the present), the head of Keio University contrasted Western motivation with Japanese motivation by placing them at opposite extremes: positive and negative, active and passive.^[21] He wrote that the Tokugawa seclusion policy, "a still prevalent condition," exemplified the Japanese outlook: "Ah, like a frog who remains in a pond and the river god who glorifies only the river, the Japanese is unaware of the great waters beyond." The article encouraged youth to leave Japan, "a place with too many people and meager wages." They should venture abroad, where profitable businesses prevail to aid in the "expansion of national power." The author cited Korea as an example. Japanese youth had matured in a country "already open to the world and dedicated to the policies of progress and development" and thus had benefited from an education "based on the learning of the whole world." They also had learned foreign languages "as preparation for going abroad." Why then, didn't they leave? The answer, wrote the author, lay in the "denial of the other"; the spirit of seclusion as inherited from the Tokugawa past prevented Japanese from recognizing or acknowledging anything outside of "the self." This spirit was inward-looking. It engendered a self filled with "retrogression and conservatism." It bestowed an aimless asceticism. The article persuaded educated Japanese to emigrate, particularly to areas that would enhance national power. It was a call to youth to venture beyond the confines of the islands of Japan and take advantage of the vast learning they had gained as citizens in new kindai Japan.

The writer proceeded to analyze kinken chochiku (thrift and savings),

a phrase he correlated with the "denial of the other." He stated that although kinken chochiku was usually looked upon as a matter of principle, it also affected people's lives on an important day-to-day economic level. Neither principle nor economics was evil or harmful. However, when kinken chochiku became the basis for deprivation, loss, or misfortune, it was destructive, defiled by negativism. Kinken chochiku had spawned weakness and wretchedness in the way people lived, the author contended. Houses were built on foundations that loosened "with the slightest wind." The people ate "pickles and greens," their diet only a "little more refined than the diet of a monkey." The Japanese didn't eat nearly as well as the average person in the United States or Europe. Rather, they subsisted on "diets of poverty,"

. . . eating food without nutrition and then working one's body to excess; . . . eating rice with barley and some greens twice a day when one could eat them thrice; eating two bowls when one could eat three. . .. This is the kinken chochiku which is so ardently proclaimed and religiously followed! This is the result of negativism. Why aren't we able to attain a superior standard of living equal to that in the U.S. and Europe? Why don't we strive to have a superior life which is equal to an American or European's?^[22]

Japanese people had been poisoned by kinken chochiku. It fostered negative and passive behavior. Sekkyokuteki motives, by contrast, came from the need to expand—in business ("don't settle for ten thousand yen") and through travel, to promote foreign intercourse and to develop national power outside of Japan. The author urged Japanese to move to the outside, away from themselves.

Clearly, the article promoted the imperial aims of the nation. To realize these goals, people had to foster a "go forward" attitude, one expressed by the term shimpo (progress). Another author illuminated the inferiority of East Asians "who know only to preserve their capital and know not to march forward and accumulate. . .. [A] great culture in Asia is in the making. To be sekkyokuteki, people of the East must lift the banner of shimpo not only in matters of the military, but also in business, literature, and all other endeavors."^[23] The timing of these articles was significant, for when these issues of Seiko^[*] were published, the fate of Korea was being determined by Japan and Russia in a conflict that had entered its fourth month. Patriotism during this war was graphically evident on the covers of Seiko^[*], for the five semimonthly issues from April 1 to June 1, 1904, featured admirals, generals, commanders, and lieutenants who achieved battle fame in the Russo-

Japanese War. The models of the West were not forsaken, however; during the rest of the year the faces of Andrew Carnegie, Thomas Edison, and Democratic Party presidential hopeful Alton B. Parker adorned the covers, sharing the limelight with Hegel, Landsdowne, and Ibsen. What these individuals held in common concerning specific sekkyokuteki motives is not clear.

These explicit trumpet calls to go outside the self and to exploit the Other conformed to the national aims of imperialism and expansion, but another, more complex and perplexing attitude was evident. This included a perception of the Other not only as inferior but also as exploitable, as a means of fulfilling one's own selfish needs. It was a view that encouraged eating three bowls office instead of two. It repudiated the sacrifice of the body and therefore repudiated the sacrifice of the spirit. Taking action only as needs arose or as a defensive measure was considered an expression of negativism; thus, kinken chochiku could not be tolerated in a new sekkyokuteki society. The reader was left with a confusing set of messages: positivism and the Other; negativism and the self. Going out, going beyond oneself, was seen as the essence of profit and achievement. Concentrating on the self hindered acquisition, denied the Other, and caused weakness. One must focus on the self, not be frugal, satisfy one's own needs, and raise one's standard of living. In this context, the self and self-recognition became the essence of accumulation and profit. The important strategy to succeed, then, was that one had to balance the Other and the self. Probably without great concern for the logic (or illogic) in the arguments, readers took what they could from articles such as these. The clearest message was that the principles of thrift and savings could not remain as guidelines for the new Japanese world.

The question that remained unanswered was how a sekkyokuteki attitude was to be achieved. How was one to acquire it in Japan, which had little in common with resource-rich countries like the United States? What was the secret?

The magazine Amerika, which made liberal and superficial use of value-laden words such as "progress," "struggle," and "responsibility," touted the accomplishments of men such as Hearst, Bryan, and Rockefeller, as well as successful Japanese already settled in the United States (see Figure 3). However, some articles did more than merely recount the lives of men of achievement. A lead article, "Beikokujin wa naniyueni kigyoshin^[*]ni tomeruka" (Why are Americans endowed with the spirit of enterprise?), written by an anonymous "Henry," preached the

Fig. 3.
Illustration for lead article," 'The Spirit of America,' by American
President Roosevelt," Amerika 10:4 (1 May 1907).

behavior and attitudes necessary to gain success.^[24] The article urged readers to brave risks, be ready to compete, and willingly adapt to changing circumstances: "Although we see many successful Japanese in America, their achievements are equivalent to but one strand of hair from amongst a multitude of cows, for no one can compare to the fierce competitive struggles of the people of America."

Henry dismissed as misleading the explanations given for the fierce American competitive spirit, such as self-centeredness ("a trait which ignores all but the pursuit of the dollar") or entrepreneurial effort based on "high and noble" values. He believed the fundamentals of the American spirit could be understood only by analyzing American education and the social environment. Henry focused on American families, in particular the characteristics of child-raising. During his return to Japan from New York, he was struck by the "extreme liveliness" of the American children on board the passenger steamer. Most did not suffer from seasickness, and their conduct and conversation were totally different from that of Japanese children. For example, a girl of four or five who was on deck

hung over the railing of the ship looking as if she might fall into the sea. Startled, I ran to her, intending to catch her, but just at that moment, her mother appeared, and I concluded that all would be safe. However, to my amazement, her mother seemed quite self-possessed, patted her child on the head and asked, "Are you playing nicely?" Then, totally ignoring any danger to the child, the mother walked away. I thought to myself: "American mothers are bold and daring!" . . . One would think that the appropriate response would be to run and stop the child. Some American mothers might do just that, but it is customary in that country to expect that children look after themselves.^[25]

Henry admitted that this kind of practice might result in "injurious consequences" at times, but he noted that Americans interpreted such experiences in a positive light. In Japan children were always admonished to be well-behaved and obedient, so much so that when they reached maturity they lacked independence. Wet nurses cared for them during infancy, and maids accompanied them to school. Freedom was unknown to them. They were incapable of making independent decisions upon reaching the stage of life when it was necessary to do so.

In the United States, by contrast, the educational approach helped children gain self-confidence. One child, not more than eight or nine, could have been traveling by himself, "for I never saw his parents." He

walked up and down the ship's deck, "erect, looking composed, and nonchalant, with both hands in his pocket like an adult." To Henry's wonder and admiration, the child was a linguistic genius. "He knew English, of course, and spoke French and Spanish with the greatest of ease." He could travel by himself throughout Europe without any difficulty. "There are those who may think that these children are special cases and that they are accustomed to traveling around the world. That is not true. There are many such children in the United States."

Henry stated that both girls and boys were taught to be self-sufficient at an early age, although he did not mention girls' upbringing beyond this brief reference. American children packed their own luggage, ordered their own food at restaurants ("not like Japanese children, who would eat what is placed before them only after getting approval from their mothers"), and were not upset or saddened if their parents took extended trips to foreign countries. They gained independence by taking responsibility and learning from their parents' examples, not by reproof and correction: "Already at the young age often, American children are adroit conversationalists concerning their plans for their business future. . .. At sixteen or seventeen they work out ways to be independent of their fathers. . .. At twenty-two or three they would be considered a disgrace if they remained dependent and gnawed on their father's leg."^[26]

Even the wealthiest American fathers regarded labor as "sacred" and encouraged their sons to begin their independent lives by "earning bread from the sweat of labor." Every son was expected to hold his own job. Some foreigners looked upon American fathers as selfish, but the fostering of children's independence was the "essence of American education." Rich children were not coddled or spoiled, Henry wrote. There were a few exceptions, but these were the results of improper parental upbringing and an attitude that considered labor "ignoble."

Henry did not refer to the affluence of the American families in the article. His Japanese examples were limited to middle-class or well-to-do families. The article left readers with the impression that these were the norms: All American children, regardless of social class, grew up in an environment that stressed self-sufficiency from an early age and in their maturity were rewarded with affluence. By contrast, Japanese children grew up in a protective environment not conducive to self-sufficiency and economic independence. They lacked the adventurous spirit necessary to succeed in business, and few attained the success that came so easily to Americans.

The results of child-rearing in the United States provided important evidence of what was possible when young minds were properly influenced and illustrated the generation-to-generation connection that Henry characterized as the basis of the American spirit of enterprise. However, to Japanese readers unendowed with this paternal benefit, this description of child-rearing only served to emphasize the cultural differences that eased and promoted the American youth's entry into economic adulthood. Where were the examples that could serve as more practical guides for the eager Japanese aspirant to success? How was one to act with independence, be outgoing, learn foreign languages, travel, and expand if one was unfortunate enough to have been born and raised in Japan?

Abe Iso^[*] , a Christian socialist, minister, Anglophile, and professor at Waseda, attempted to offer an easy-to-follow description of the behavioral and attitudinal Japanese world that could nurture a sekkyokuteki outlook.^[27] Entitled "Nihonjinwa naniyue fukenzen naru gorakuni fukeruka ?" (Why do Japanese indulge in unwholesome leisure activity?), the article began with the assertion that the tone and temper of a people can be ascertained from their various recreations.

The Americans and British like outdoor sports in particular. The Germans enjoy music and theater as well as beer-drinking. They also enjoy sports, but compared to the Americans and British, the variety is limited. The main German sports activities are ice skating and dueling. The French also enjoy music and theater, but do not engage in any active sports. The Spanish seem to have festivals throughout the year and are forever merrymaking. The major activities of the Chinese are smoking opium and gambling.

The hierarchy of peoples is unmistakable. Anglo-Saxons were without question the most superior, Chinese, the least so. The world-shaking advancements of the Americans and British were reflected in their zeal for outdoor sports. The Americans had their baseball, the English, their cricket—games that were valued as national pastimes. As soon as they settled in a foreign place, Abe noted, their first order of business was to set up an athletic field. The author seemed to approve of a colonial power's showing off its national game to a colonized people as an example of cultural superiority. His observation foreshadowed future Japanese subjugation policies in which, as colonizer, it promoted its culture as advanced, vigorous, confident, and successful.

In addition to their national sports, the Americans and British enjoyed boating, lawn tennis, football, and soccer. Weather permitting,

they were always prepared to engage in some sport outside. During the winter months leisure activities took place indoors, and the interest in music and drama was as intense as the enthusiasm for outdoor sports. This well-rounded, healthy, and wholesome attitude toward recreation was the basis of Anglo-Saxon prominence in the world and the development of "bodies of steel and nerves of iron. . .. It is said that an English woman considers a government cabinet minister to be the ideal mate. If not a cabinet minister, then a crew member of a sculling team from Oxford or Cambridge—a clear indication that the whole nation is interested in sports and does not censor it as coarse or unrefined." The lesson was that even as an adult, a person should continue participating in sports.

Western recreations were a far cry from the "feminine, inactive, and retiring" leisure activities of the Japanese. Abe grumbled about the "indecisive and makeshift nature" of Japanese pastimes that stemmed from the national fondness for storytelling songs and dramas—so "absurdly lengthy" that they required "thirty minutes to an hour for one piece." Japanese music and the game of go, all of which took place indoors, were unenergetic and unhealthy and reflected the "slow and tedious nature of our citizenry." The only active sport was sumo^[*], a spectator sport in which most people did not participate. Abe listed three reasons for the insignificance of outdoor sports in Japanese life. First, historical social class roles required only the samurai to subject themselves to harsh physical discipline (in order to excel in the martial arts). Second, "the aristocratic society regarded any physical labor with contempt. . .. [P]hysical activity other than the martial arts was the function of people of lower rank." Finally, the impossibility of moving about freely in Japanese dress or in Japanese houses effectively discouraged energetic activity. Settling down on the tatami was incompatible with physical movement; in sharp contrast, chairs and tables in Western houses did not hinder movement. Abe pointed out that the Japanese tendency toward inactivity was apparent even among emigrants to the U.S. West Coast. They clung to the practices of the past, a weakness that "subjects them to numerous temptations, many which we in Japan cannot imagine." Restaurants and brothels existed wherever Japanese congregated, as well as gambling parlors run by Chinese, who contrived "to extract the blood of our compatriots." These regressive attitudes toward physical fitness were indicative of people saddled with unhealthy leisure habits. An altered outlook was necessary. Appropriately, sex as a physical activity was unmentioned and ignored.

Despite Abe's socialist thinking and sympathies for a classless society, he and other writer-teachers inundated Meiji youth with examples of affluent and well-rounded Americans who traveled widely, knew foreign languages, attended the theater, appreciated music, and engaged in exclusive sports such as tennis. Incredibly, the writers failed to mention that only an elite minority of American youth could enjoy this lifestyle, and they disregarded the fact that it was inaccessible to the majority of Japanese youth. Nevertheless, their writings communicated a sense of the potential for change. They prodded youth to learn about and absorb the tenacity, acumen, and physical determination of "great Americans," qualities that were the necessary stepping stones to success. The ridicule of non-Anglo-Saxon groups, including the Japanese themselves, seems to indicate a comprehensive acceptance of Anglo-Saxon values and a conviction that imitation could rescue the Japanese from sinking to the level of the Chinese or southern Europeans.

However, this interpretation overlooks an important element: the presentation of differences between the groups as behavioral—the necessary escape valve: The Japanese could alter their behavior to conform to the needs of a kindai nation-state. Although the undesirable qualities of passivity, inactivity, and disdain for physical exertion were "Japanese," they were defined as remnants of the pre-Meiji era, when a rigid class structure dominated society. The writers insisted that these behavioral qualifies were inappropriate and should be discarded by the new Meiji society. However, social class and lifestyles enjoyed by affluent people in kindai Japan were not to be discarded—in fact, they were to be pursued. Abe's acclamation of Anglo-Saxon sports; the Keio University administrator's disparagement of kinken chochiku; and Henry's appreciation of the well-traveled linguistic child genius all pointed to the ideal of material success held by people striving to assume a new churyukaikyu^[*] identity.

However, with respect to severe unemployment, the prevailing advice contradicted the familiar exhortations to obtain a college education and pursue a bourgeois lifestyle. Articles on unemployment emphasized that not everyone had the capacity or the talent to attain success in middle-class terms. In a Seiko^[*] article, a faculty member of Keio University questioned the value of higher education for all.^[28] His reasoning was based on the fact that Japan had not yet progressed to the point where labor was esteemed. Manual work still carried the unfortunate "vestige of the feudal era." No one wanted to become a laborer. Everyone desired a higher education, but jobs did not exist for all graduates,

and therefore unemployment ensued. The author argued that some people were unfit for education and "a role in the upper class"; he believed institutions of higher learning should weed out people better suited to "using their hands." The writer did not demean labor; in fact, he promoted the sanctity of labor. But his intention was not to make the laborer's status equal with that of educated middle-class individuals. He wanted to make it more palatable.

In the same vein, Baron Dan Takuma, engineer, executive of the Mitsui Company, and master of corporate entrepreneurship, counseled the readers of Seiko^[*] regarding the shortage of jobs.^[29] He said Mitsui offered one job for every twenty to thirty applicants each year, a terrifying prospect for youth who persevered in school beyond the compulsory requirement of six years. "There are some who say they would work without pay and beg for employment," Baron Dan wrote. "I cannot condone such an immoral condition. . .. It can result in countless abuses, a danger for any industrialist of substance." He acknowledged that college graduates anguished over the employment situation but suggested that the worth of a diploma was overrated. Two decades of education tended to make students and their parents look upon a diploma as "a kind of talisman." When a youth was "thrust onto the violent waves and winds of the great ocean of life, the thousands of volumes of knowledge locked in the deepest corners of his heart" were of little consequence.

Looking back at his years at "a school called the Institute of Technology in Boston, Massachusetts," Baron Dan recounted the story of a brilliant student in his class, "a refined and honest young American." Three or four months before he was to graduate, this young man unexpectedly announced his withdrawal from college. He had received a job offer from a major cotton trading company in New Orleans and had to leave immediately. A diploma meant nothing to this particular firm; it was merely a piece of paper certifying that a person had completed his education. "It had nothing to do with merit or the company's confidence in that person." His friend advanced steadily and achieved a prominent position in the firm. The author went on: "I do not mean to imply that diplomas have no value and should be ignored. However, I consider that knowledge of life itself is paramount. . .. [A] diploma does not guarantee that a person has acquired that knowledge. The final worth of a person is determined by his 'ability.' "^[30]

Ability was the most important element in Baron Dan's formula for success, even overriding education. He used the Chinese compound

characters read as saino^[*] ; in Japanese as the translation for ability but incorporated a new reading, a-bi-re-te , combining Western and Japanese notions of merit and intelligence. This linguistic alteration creatively combined a new word with a familiar compound to produce an interpretation in keeping with the institutional and cultural changes that took place in Japan.

The timing of the article in relation to world politics was particularly significant. It was published in the post-Russo-Japanese War period, when Japan acquired southern Sakhalin, became the dominant imperial power in Manchuria and Korea, and was a growing presence in a weak and fragmented China. In 1910 it annexed Korea. These step-by-step encroachments onto the Asian continent established Japan as a military power in competition with the Western imperial nations. Economically, the state-subsidized large-scale industries of banking, shipping, and heavy industry had achieved a stable footing, aided by the tremendous jump in military expenditures during the Sino-Japanese and Russo-Japanese Wars. Large private corporate enterprises increasingly became the overseers of capital formation and financing for industrial purposes.^[31] The textile industry had grown to the extent that Japanese cotton, which was targeted mainly at domestic consumers at first, began to spread to foreign markets, particularly China, as factory production began to take over hand production at the turn of the century. Japan's exports of raw silk, produced as the key supplementary domestic industry by peasants, superseded those of China and the European countries between 1909 and 1913.^[32]

Nevertheless, the economy was subject to irregularities in production levels, interest rates, stock market indexes, consumption levels, and employment rates. Cyclical troughs and peaks became endemic to the economic development process. The massive primary expenditures on war, military-related and strategic industries, and colonial administration seriously compromised any benefits economic growth may have brought to society. As E. H. Norman suggested, according to John Dower, "the 'success' of the Meiji state was, almost inevitably, the tragedy of the Japanese people."^[33] A large segment of the population had to accept the economic uncertainties, be part of the forces of production (temporarily at times), and willingly sacrifice for an expanding, wealthy, and strong Japan. The ideas that not everyone should expect to advance beyond a compulsory education and that some people should be willing to assume responsibilities beneath their training and/ or expectations were prerequisites if the nation-state was to maintain its

dominance over the populace, prevent conflict and disorder, and gain the coveted position of power in the world.^[34]

Notwithstanding the uncertain and straitened circumstances facing the Japanese people, popular articles failed to explore the deeper socioeconomic causes of the distress and anguish experienced by Meiji youth. They presented circuitous arguments that valued labor and, in doing so, justified the lack of jobs for the educated. By rejecting the Tokugawa aristocracy and pointing to the structural defects of that class society, the articles seemed to place the common person in the Meiji period in a position of esteem, perhaps even equality with the privileged and well-to-do. Nevertheless, such articles held labor in contempt. They did not criticize the growth of a newly formed, educated, salaried churyukaikyu^[*] whose members faced limited prospects for success. The gist of the articles was that people had to extricate themselves from the past and overcome unemployment, job shortages, "the diet of poverty," business failures, and low standards of living by skillfully blending self-sufficiency, activism, and ability. The true sekkyokuteki spirit would thereby ensue. The onus of unfavorable social conditions was placed squarely on the shoulders of people who "misunderstood" the essence of kindai attitudes and behavior; they were guilty of blocking Japan's progress.

The articles were confusing and bewildering, for in reality one could never be employed in a firm such as Mitsui without higher education. Furthermore, the repetitious parade of abstractions failed to clarify a worldview helpful in obtaining the fruits of the kindai world. Rather, they emphasized conformity, patience, and obedience: Citizens should wait for a place in the sun by adhering to society's rules and should not question the disruptive social and economic forces that made their lives less than stable. However, because these platitudes were reinforced by personal observations from respected and successful kindai Japanese leaders, it was difficult for the young and inexperienced to refute the logic. Didacticism and repetition served to authenticate this point of view.

In conjunction with the many teachings on the creation of a new Japanese sekkyokuteki spirit of endeavor, dedication, and success, writings on the accumulation of money also appeared in seiko^[*] magazines as well as in popular fiction. Money had to be made morally acceptable, for in the not-distant past those who handled it, the merchants, were relegated to the lowest stratum of society. During the course of the Tokugawa period, the merchants' importance in the country's economy grew; they became the moneylenders, transactors of domestic

trade, landowners, and purchasers of samurai family names. But the stigma attached to mercenary matters as unclean and uncouth persisted.^[35] With Japan's entry into the world of capitalism, ideas and actions concerning money—acquiring it, using it, making it pay, and touching it—had to be made acceptable and desirable. The profit motive was no longer a vice, nor was conduct for profit dishonorable.

Justifications for the practice of making money peppered the pages of Seiko^[*] . Articles suggesting the fusion of the past and present conveyed approval of profits as long as the profit seeker understood the "true Bushido^[*] ."^[36] Honor and integrity were Bushido’s^[*] important elements and should be the basis of moneymaking. Thus the elite pre-Meiji disdain for commercial transactions was replaced by the kindai view, which acknowledged their necessity. "Don't belittle material things," urged Seiko^[*] , for "man cannot live without bread. . .. Bread and the spirit have to be valued like the two wings of a bird."^[37] Without such a dual appreciation, one could not transform one's fortunes without embarrassment and "accumulate ten thousand yen from one hundred yen in eleven years."^[38] The possibility of engaging in diverse and divergent trades, running the gamut from operating a pawnshop to making and selling cosmetics, became feasible; as long as moneymaking occurred with the correct awareness and spirit, all avenues were open.

Two particularly interesting novels appeared in the Yomiuri shimbun in serialized form. Both projected themes about the value of money and the attitudes necessary in dealing with it. The daily Yomiuri , first published in 1874, was aimed at a wide reading public, in contrast to the more political newspapers. It had been the best-selling newspaper until the mid-1880s. When increased governmental pressure caused political newspapers to fail, new newspapers geared more toward entertainment began to proliferate, spurred by technological advances in the printing press and the growth of advertising.^[39] Cartoons, novels, serials, interviews, and "unabashed commercialism" were decisive elements in keeping newspapers afloat.^[40] In this competitive environment the Yomiuri , which had a circulation of 15,000 to 20,000 in the mid-1880s, lost its number-one status, and moved aggressively to regain its former popularity. In 1886 it altered its policy to place greater emphasis on serialized novels: circulation rose instantly.^[41] Together with the Osaka Asahi, Tokyo Asahi, and Mainichi (which in 1906 was renamed the Tokyo Mainichi ), the Yomiuri held a major position as an important mass-circulation daily and source of information and entertainment.^[42]

A variety of novels appeared one after another, including translations of Western fiction (Edgar Allen Poe's The Black Cat, in 1887, was

Fig. 4.
Illustration from the newspaper novel Seiyomusume^[*] katagi, Yomiuri
shimbun (1897). Toshinori clutches forty. pounds of cash given to him by
Mario to repay gambling debts. Note the blending of Japanese and Western
aesthetics.

one).^[43] Some issues featured two novels, one of which always ran on the first page. A contemporary editor claimed: "Lengthy novels are the way to suck in readers." Novels were the "artillery" of newspaper sales policy.^[44] The Yomiuri won fame as the primary literary arts newspaper for the masses and helped writing get established as a legitimate profession in Japan.^[45]

For a month and a half in 1897, the Yomiuri ran the inappropriately entitled novel Seiyomusume^[*] katagi (Characteristics of Western maidens) by Yanagawa Shunyo^[*] (1877-1918), a lesser Meiji writer who won acclaim as a newspaper novelist (see Figures 4-7).^[46] This melodrama was

Fig. 5.
Illustration from Seiyomusume^[*] katagi. Toshinori learns that he is the legitimate
heir to his mother's estate.

essentially about the acquisition of money and status. However, it is as interesting for its transformation of Western forms into the Japanese literary genre as for its elucidation of how to amass wealth. Like many of the earlier newspaper novels freely adapted from Poe, Dumas, Disraeli, and other popular writers of the West, the story was reconstructed and made to fit the Japanese mode.^[47] Shunyo^[*] converted some names of persons and places into Japanese. Others took on sounds that were somewhat close to the original. Thus, "Peter Smith" became Sumisu Pita; "Marion" changed to Mario ; "David" to Tamito; "Theresa" to Terusa ; "Sophia" to Soyako . The names became Japanese names, and by assigning Chinese characters to all of them, Shunyo^[*] made them more familiar to readers. As he stated in the first installment:

This is a real story which I heard from a friend. . .. The characters are not typical Japanese men and women, but entirely different and difficult to understand. . .. [T]he events would not occur in Japan. The society, customs, and situations are unfamiliar. So are the feelings. However, if you,

Fig. 6.
Illustration from Seiyomusume^[*] katagi. Mario calculates ways to lure
the wealthy Toshinori.

my readers, were to appreciate the smell of butter in this story, it could provide one moment of amusement.^[48]

And amusement it provides, for the novel is extravagant in its portrayal of nobility and refinement, gambling and attempted suicide, love and innocence, and, most of all, wealth and happiness. It offered a Japanese rendition of the West to ordinary newspaper readers. The illustrations depict non-Japanese characters and surroundings with Victorian styles of clothing and housing interiors. The figures bear a mixture of Western and Eastern facial characteristics, not unusual in Meiji illustrations, although to a Westerner they are not recognizably Western. The illustrations are, in fact, Japanese constructions. To the Japanese of the time, though, they contained qualifies that were unquestionably Western and "un-Japanese," and thus the gap between the alien and the familiar was narrowed for readers.

Fig. 7.
Illustration from Seiyomusume^[*] katagi. Toshinori and Mario spend
their "unrestricted and incalculable wealth" in Paris.

The story centers around the hero, Toshinori, and two young women: Mario, who seeks "a wealthy, refined, promising husband," and Soyako, whom the hero sees in a field in an early installment, "making his heart pound." Coincidences abound, usually bringing about favorable resolutions. Toshinori, Dr. Sumisu's ward, who is "treated a trifle better than as a gatekeeper," discovers through a newspaper ad that his mother was of noble and wealthy birth and that the estate is looking for her heirs. Despite his having lived under simple and humble circumstances as a youth, his "naturally aristocratic" demeanor, his remarkable resemblance to his ancestors, and the fact that he does not "smell of the soil" confirms that he is the rightful heir. He is given responsibility over matters of the estate, substantially increases its holdings, and brings fame and honor to his family name.

Mario, Dr. Sumisu's daughter, learns about his aristocratic birth and blackmails him into marrying her. At one time she rescued the hero from gambling losses accumulated in a night of misguided self-indulgence; now she threatens to divulge his evening of debauchery if he refuses. "Europeans are not awkward about speaking up," comments author Shunyo^[*] , "not like Japanese." Toshinori agrees to the marriage, not only because of Mario's threat but also because he is an honorable young man and feels a great debt to her as well as to her father.

Then, at a social event before his marriage to Mario, Toshinori meets the young woman he saw in the field, Soyako, and learns that she is the daughter of a count. He spends a pleasurable evening with her and declares his love, but his honor and his guilt about the secret gambling debt prevent him from pursuing her. However, after six installments of an unhappy married life, Mario conveniently commits suicide, and Toshinori is free to wed Soyako. Love triumphs; the hero is rich; and the reader has been entertained for forty-eight days by a romantic melodrama. Dogged perseverance is not the only method for gaining wealth; the pursuit of appropriately useful connections, some of which could result in unexpected turns of fate, may be equally fruitful. Manipulation is not recognized or mentioned. Rather, Toshinori's naïveté and virginity, his nobility and honesty, are the keys. The reader concludes the series with the fantasy that love and money can be attained and that there is no contradiction between wealth and happiness. The admonition that the "events would not occur in Japan" seems irrelevant.

By contrast, Konjikiyasha (The golden demon) deals with the unprincipled lust for monetary gain, its destructive effects on human relationships, and the difficulty of liberating oneself from that abyss.^[49] The idea was taken from an American novel (Bertha M. Clay's The White Lily ), a means used frequently by Japanese writers to multiply their creative output and stay in print.^[50] Written by Shunyo’s^[*] teacher, Ozaki Koyo^[*] (1867-1903), it was the most popular newspaper novel of the turn of the century, running from 1897 to 1902, with some lapses because of Koyo’s^[*] ill health. Koyo^[*] , who was known already for a number of works (the first published in 1885) and commanded respect in the Tokyo literary world, was employed by the Yomiuri in 1890 and quickly became a favorite writer as well as a mentor to many known Meiji novelists.^[51] Up to the time Konjikiyasha appeared, newspaper novels were peopled by characters who sometimes took on the voice of the author and spouted morals, comments, and critiques (as in Shunyo’s^[*] piece). One chief editor of a leading newspaper wrote that the purpose was to offset and "plant ideals in" the "ignorant" minds of the female readers:

[T]hey only look for stories which would stimulate their psyches in an emotional way. They indulge in insignificant feelings of joy, anger, pathos, and pleasure. . . and prefer life to unfold as in the changing patterns of a kaleidoscope. . .. [U]nless a story fills their hearts with an acute pessimism, they are uninterested. If any lofty ideal is presented, our female readers assault us saying they do not understand it.^[52]

This severe criticism of a significant segment of the newspaper-novel readership, however, was not to have crucial or lasting influence upon the Meiji novel. In fact, Konjikiyasha falls squarely into the genre at which this criticism was directed. It does not teach or sermonize but "stimulates the psyche." Drawing its audience not only from among undeservedly maligned young women but from a wide range of male and female readers, the novel was said to have influenced intellectuals and important Meiji writers such as Natsume Soseki^[*] and Mori Ogai^[*] .^[53] Koyo’s^[*] writing style, with which he had been experimenting for several years, was a factor in its popularity. He wrote the novel immediately before Konjikiyasha entirely in colloquial Japanese; in Kanjikiyasha he drew on colloquial language for the dialogue and classical language for the narrative, skillfully creating a revolutionary literary voice.^[54]

Koyo’s^[*] health prevented him from keeping up with the demanding schedule of the newspaper and finishing the novel. He was dismissed from the Yomiuri in May 1902, the same month his last installment appeared. The removal of Konjikiyasha made the paper the target of indignant readers and adversely affected its circulation, a situation from which the paper did not recover until one year later, when it finally found and hired a novelist whose work was able to draw attention.^[55] Koyo^[*] died of cancer in October 1903.

The plot of Konjikiyasha involves a young woman, Omiya, who is betrothed to her student sweetheart but forsakes him for a wealthy industrialist, blinded by the riches he has to offer. Koyo^[*] successfully played on the sympathies and emotions of his readers by focusing on love and gold, the "two great powers over life." He wrote:

[g]old is temporal. . .. "Love," on the other hand, is unchanging, eternal, and supports life. . . . I wanted to write about that. I described the conflict between love and gold. . .. If Omiya were a prototypical Meiji woman, she would have obliterated memories of her past love as soon as she became the wife of another. However, I wanted to present her as a "transcendant Meiji woman" by describing her remorse. This was my main aim in writing this novel.^[56]

And remorse she feels, for Omiya is hounded by it physically and psychologically throughout the novel—from the famous moonlit Atami beach scene in which she tells her sweetheart, Kanichi, of her impending marriage and he, in a rage, kicks her to the ground, to the scene four years later when she espies him from a distance and faints in a heap, unable to restrain her guilt, pain, and confusion.^[57] Omiya can

never achieve happiness because her actions are based on her unprincipled thirst for the bourgeois life. Kanichi, incited by anger and unrequited passion, submerges himself in the usury business, carrying out the many offensive tasks of the trade for his employer. This occupation makes him intolerable, devoid of feeling, cold, merciless, and self-destructive. He is loathsome to comrades from his student days and milks his victims to abject poverty.

Nevertheless, the reader identifies with and experiences complete sympathy for both characters. Their weaknesses notwithstanding—or rather, because of their weaknesses—Kanichi and Omiya are attractive in their anguish. Koyo^[*] presents Kanichi as a person with such magnetism that the reader feels great compassion for him. The same holds for Omiya, who has opted for a life of comfort as an attractive and elegant wife but inwardly suffers great unhappiness and perpetual agony. Hope arises when the reader imagines a reconciliation between Kanichi and Omiya, but this does not happen, for both lives have evolved to depend totally upon the immoral acquisition of wealth. Happiness is beyond their reach as long as they deny their true feelings of love. Their lust for money has destroyed both of them.

In one scene, an avaricious and ambitious female usurer, endowed with beauty and elegance, proposes marriage to Kanichi with the expectation that their union could promise a profitable partnership as well as an enriching personal relationship. To the delight of the reader, he refuses her. In explaining his rejection, Kanichi says:

I used to be a student but stopped my studies midway, not because of a dissipated life or shortage of funds. Other, more desirable occupations are available for students who decide to give up their education. Why did I choose this brutal, cruel trade, which is the same as stealing in broad daylight; which parches the throats of the sick and kills any semblance of honor, something dearer than life itself?. . . I stooped to this trade after having tasted the bitterest fruits of despair and disappointment fed to me by those whom I trusted. . .. I was betrayed because of money. I was shamed because I had no money. I have forgotten justice and humanity. I am without honor and love. I have no desire except to make money and look forward to the day when my agony will be dispelled. . .. Money is by far more trustworthy and dependable than people.^[58]

Kanichi's recitation discloses his self-hate and pain, which, to the reader, diminishes the effects of his most savage and heinous actions as a usurer.

Wealth itself and what it can procure are never criticized in Koyo’s^[*] emotion-ridden literary work; nor is it in Shunyo’s^[*] simplistic fantasy.

The good life, beautiful clothes, the appreciation for Western wine, and other trappings of the bourgeois life are depicted as signs of gentility and grace. This viewpoint is evident from the outset of Konjikiyasha , which describes a young gentleman (shinshi ) who is on his way to join friends for the New Year's festivities.^[59] This young man wears over a Japanese kimono a heavy fur-collared greatcoat, which was adapted from the Western double-layered coat with cape. It was popular at the time among men of substance.^[60] Aspects of life that the moneyed consider tasteful, can purchase, and enjoy are described in detail in the same way throughout the novel: Omiya's wardrobe, her hairstyle, her upper-class demeanor, the sophisticated conversations of Kanichi's urbane and educated friends. These qualities distinguish the churyukailkyu^[*] from the rest of society and are not censured. They are the attractive fruits of money and success. Shunyo’s^[*] hero merits unanticipated riches, status, and love because he proves himself to be an honest and noble gentleman. Koyo’s^[*] hero and heroine are doomed to the depths of suffering, loveless and unhappy, because of their misguided lust for money. This lust differentiates Koyo’s^[*] characters from Shunyo’s^[*] . Money is necessary to achieve success, but it has to be acquired in a principled way, with integrity and with regard for humanity. Money-worship corrupts. But the legitimate, rational, and honest acquisition of money can result in the kind of life that the readers of Konjikiyasha desire for Kanichi and Omiya.^[61]

Among the many ways to acquire money, usury, which is presented in such an ugly way in Konjikiyasha , was given some legitimacy in a lengthy article by a korigashi^[*] (usurer) who was "president of a Meiji Finance Company."^[62] The article described usurers' lifestyle, motivation, and ambition, as well as the details of loan procedures, methods of collection, interest rates, types of debtors and creditors, and third parties. Readers received what seems to be a practical picture of the trade as well as significant advice. The writer glossed over any strict moral judgment, although he cautioned:

It is possible that the nature of the usury business cannot prevent the tendency to become excessively brutal, even among the most principled of usurers. However, the quality that is most lacking among usurers is social honor. In order to gain some sense that they have attained honor, they try to buy it and engage in public-spirited actions such as contributing to social welfare agencies or aiding struggling students. . .. [I]f a contracted debt cannot be collected, its amount increases steadily. Therefore, the usurer hopes that the debtor will uplift himself, amount to something, and ultimately become successful. This is the usurer's eternal prayer. It is a strange

kind of sympathy. Sometimes, by being overly trustful and allowing the debt to increase, terrible disaster can befall the usurer.

He ended his piece with his hopes for his future: Once he has fulfilled his goal of gaining "enough wealth" he can retire, see that his children get an education, and open a pawnshop or some other "profitable" business.

The writer used a convoluted logic to rationalize usurers' activities and portray them as people of humanity and social conscience: Contributing to public causes and infusing debtors with ambition justified the trade. This conclusion relied on the sentimental notion that all people have an innate sense of good in them, even usurers. Articles such as these helped to sanction occupations that thrived under conditions of capital scarcity, a continuing situation through the Meiji years.^[63]

From the lofty goals of nobility and honor to the mercenary aim of relentless greed, from pompous analyses of the superiority of the sekkyokuteki American spirit to the adoration of the samurai—success at this time took on many meanings. The Japanese definition of success in the Meiji kindai world had an intimate relationship with the defining of the Meiji kindai identity. Since the incursion of the West, beginning with Perry's mission in 1854 and culminating in the overthrow of a weakened Tokugawa, Japan had acted to rid itself of its minor-power status. Eyeing the west and south for lands to conquer and resources with which to build, Japan infused its capitalistic productive segments with orders for goods to aid in the accomplishment of those ends. The Sino-Japanese War was an important watershed that secured Japan's place as a rising and formidable contender with Western capitalist and imperial powers. Japan's mission to join this community of nations and its desire eventually to supersede the West created ideological contradictions. Pinpointing the essence of the Japanese identity that justified the actions of this expanding, avaricious, power-hungry state was not an easy task.

The recipes for the achievement of success were varied and confusing. They acknowledged American superiority and stressed the importance of acquiring something akin to the American mentality but simultaneously established a strong hold on what were considered desirable "Japanese" traditions. The pre-Meiji behavioral products of harsh living—the results of kinken chochiku—were anathema, but the nobility and strength of the samurai were exalted in this recasting of the Japanese identity. The architects of kindai Japan dissected the American cul-

tural mentality, laid out the ingredients that propelled the United States's surge of economic growth, and presented a picture of Americans as homogeneous, self-sufficient, able, pragmatic, refined, and respectful of labor. Those qualities, combined with the ideals of the pre-Meiji Japanese elite, were said to be crucial in shaping the spirit needed to acquire success. In order to achieve the aims of the ambitious—employment, security, the fruits of hard labor, a good standard of living, and finally, wealth and success—youth had to strike a delicate balance between aspiration and principle, self-fulfillment and concern for humanity, hard work and hard play, specialized endeavors and broad interests, making money and integrity. Young Japanese were inundated with these abstractions.

For members of the generation brought up in this world, the promises and expectations were far beyond their realm of attainment. The many contemporary publications describing simplistic ways to achieve success only served to accentuate the belief among some youth that they were deficient in their efforts. Not realizing success, therefore, meant that a person lacked certain attributes and failed to recognize and practice teachings that, as we have seen, were based on the most narrow and subjective observations and neglectful of the real and unpredictable economic world. Failure meant that the individual misunderstood the lessons of life, work, education, marriage, and family or had been misled into believing that these lessons could be followed easily in Japan. How were success, honor, diligence, romance, and love, the less tangible aspects of life, whose meanings had been transformed from the past, to be acquired? As illustrated by a wide assortment of serialized novels that were avidly followed in the daily newspapers, the answers to these questions concerning the meaning of life were complicated. In addition, myths about living in the West appeared almost as regularly, giving a distorted view of how individuals could or should act. If one could not achieve one's life goals in Japan, perhaps one could do so in the United States. Some educated Japanese expected that their lives in the United States would be more conducive to their aspirations. Furthermore, for the churyukaikyu^[*] Tokyojin, or those who felt they were on the road to attaining that status, their knowledge and experience might bring them more benefits across the Pacific than in the rigid, mixed-up, and frustrating society that was Japan.