This Scheming World. Ihara Saikaku

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      THE EXTRAVAGANT WIVES OF WHOLESALERS

      IT IS the way of the world that on New Year’s Eve the night is dark. Ever since the remote ages of the gods people have been clearly aware of this truth; yet they are always neglecting their business. Much to their embarrassment, they frequently find the result of their previous calculations to be all too short to tide the over the year end. This is due entirely to their ill-advised way of living.

      The year end is more precious than a mint of money. It is the Great Divide between winter and spring, which none can pass over without paying a heavy toll. It is too high to be climbed by those who labor under a load of debt, which commonly results from their fond wish to provide for their children according to their means. Each separate expenditure amounts to little or nothing at the time, but the sum total for the year is quite overwhelming. The toy bow and arrow will soon be thrown into the dust bin, and even the ball of thread quickly becomes threadbare. The toy mortar used for the Dolls’ Festival will be broken and the gilded sword of iris will soon fade. The drum used in the Obon dance will be split with too much beating, while the toy sparrows of Hassaku, together with the twigs from which they are suspended, will be cast aside. Furthermore, in observance of the second day of the. Boar, rice cakes must be prepared, as well as dumplings for the festival of the community god. Then on December 1st coppers must be offered to exorcise the devils, and a talisman bought to neutralize the effects of ominous dreams. All these and other such things cost money, and they pile up in such abundance that no treasure boat nor single cart could hold them all.

      In recent years, moreover, almost all housewives have waxed extravagant. Although not in the least short of kimono, they have to have another one of the very latest fashion for the New Year. It must be made as elaborately as possible: of silk that costs forty-five momme of silver per half hiki; dyed a thousand delicate tints and hues, with as many varied and intricate designs; and costing, possibly, a ryo of gold. In this way money is squandered on what does not really attract much attention. The obi must be of genuine imported satin, twelve feet long and two feet wide. Why not try wearing a girdle of two pieces of silver wound around the waist? The hair comb may cost two ryo of gold, but wouldn’t a woman balancing three koku of rice on top of her head attract more attention? The petticoats must be made of crimson silk, worn in duplicate, and white tabi are de rigueur.

      In olden times, even the ladies of the mightiest lords were strangers to any such luxury. If these modern wives of merchants would only pause a moment to consider, they would realize that divine retribution is bound to fall upon them. It may be excusable to some extent for a woman of means to indulge in such extravagancies. However, if her merchant husband is in debt up to his ears, with interest breeding continually, day and night, rain or shine, it is not a burden to be shrugged off lightly.

      Rather should the wife be ore prudent, and be thoroughly ashamed of herself for indulging in such luxuries. Is it barely possible that she is laying in a supply of expensive stuff against the day when her husband, who may be even now teetering on the brink of bankruptcy, will be completely ruined? After all, women’s possessions are exempt from attachment: maybe the wife means to pawn the goods to raise money. However, generally speaking, a woman is so shallow pated that even on the very eve of her husband’s bankruptcy she will fare forth in a sedan chair, attended by two men each bearing a lantern, a quite superfluous accessory in the moonlight. Her actions are as vain and futile as wearing rich brocade in the dark, or as silly as pouring cold water into hot after you’ve taken the trouble to boil it.

      From his place of enshrinement within the household altar, the deceased father witnesses this procession of follies. Though sorely vexed, it’s useless to admonish his son and heir, the current master of the household, for the two are living in entirely different worlds. Yet to himself he says: ‘’My son’s business is basically unsound. He buys ten kan worth of goods and sells them for eight kan. This kind of so-called ‘business management’ results in nothing but the decrease of capita. By the end of the year it’s inevitable that an auction notice will be posted on his door. It will announce that this house of ninety-foot frontage, including three strong rooms, will be sold at auction to the highest bidder, together with all its furniture and mats (both high-and middle-class) numbering two hundred and forty in all, along with an intercoastal vessel and a five-passenger pleasure craft, plus a small rowboat, the said auction to be held on the nineteenth day of January next, at the town hall.”

      Thus will all the son’s property fall into the hands of others, alI of which the father foresees with deep regret. He likewise discerns, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the paraphernalia used in the Buddhist religious services .

      Will also pass into other hands. Therefore he appears to his son in a dream with a timely warning:

      “That trio of bronze treasures is among our dearest family heirlooms,, he says, “much too precious to pass into the hands of outsiders. I’ll have to have them wrapped up in a lotus leaf, to take back with me to. Paradise this July when you light the Obon Fire to speed my parting spirit. After all, the inherited business of this house won’t survive the year end. When you bought that considerable parcel of rice land in Tamba Province, my boy, you probably realized that yourself, didn’t you, thinking to provide a place of retreat? Actually, however, that transaction was nothing but a piece of indiscretion. If you think you’re so smart, just remember that the man who finances you is no less clever. Nothing will escape his scrutiny, and no alternative remains for you: lock, stock, and barrel-everything will pass into the hands of strangers. Instead of playing the fool-and that to no purpose-why don’t you apply yourself to business? Even though I’m dead, my son, I have appeared to you in this dream because I love you.” Thus spoke the deceased father.

      The dream passed, the morning of December 29th dawned, and the young merchant awoke, shaking with laughter in his bed. “Dear, O dear!” he exclaimed. “To see the old gentleman in a dream just at this busy year end! How perfectly shocking to discover that my dead father is still so grasping that even in the other world he wants me to donate that trio of treasures to the temple.”

      But even as he spoke these disparaging words on his deceased father the creditors came pouring in, one after another. How was he to meet the situation?

      Well, in recent days, merchants short of money have originated the idea of a so-called bill of exchange, or draft. Whenever they can spare the cash, they deposit it with a bill broker without interest, on condition that when the need arises he will pay it out for them. A rather clever device it is, convenient alike to both creditor and borrower. Our young merchant likewise, making use of this new system, had deposited twenty-five kan of silver toward the end of November with a trusted broker. When the time for the general settlement of debts arrived СКАЧАТЬ