When times are tough, the Japanese
get going, or something to that effect. My grandfather always held
that as a nation, we were much better at being poor than being rich
— "Nihonjinga kane wo
motsuto rokunakotoni naranai日本人が金をもつとろくなことにならない, Nothing good comes of the
Japanese having money)” was one of his oft-repeated
observations.
Even the language was better
suited to describing deprivation and poverty than riches and
prosperity. There's depth and wit to words like
shoboi (しょぼい, shabby), samui (寒い, chilly, or deprived),
binb kusai
(貧乏臭い, smelling of poverty) — and a
certain bohemian charm. "Borowa kitetemo kokorowa nishiki
(ぼろは着てても心は錦, Though my clothes may be
in tatters, my heart has the value of silk)” goes a line from a
popular song penned 50 years ago. In those days, the country was
struggling to recover from defeat in WWII — the clothing of many
were indeed in tatters, but a feverish optimism was in the
air.
Hinraku
(貧楽) means the state of relaxed
freedom that comes from being poor — the logic being that when one
has nothing, there's nothing to worry about. True, most Japanese
culture and aesthetics are based on hinraku and what is now known
as hikizan no
bigaku (引き算の美学, the
aesthetics of subtraction).
The tea ceremony, raised to an art
form by tea master Sen Rikyu (千利休) in the 16th century, is about
seeking value in nothingness. Sen designed the
chashitsu
(茶室, tea room) as we know it — a
wooden shack consisting of nothing more than four-and-a-half tatami
mats and decorated with a single flower.
In Sen's eyes, excessiveness was a
slur against the art of motenashi (もてなし, hospitality) and a sin against life. His
lofty stoicism enraged Toyotomi Hideyoshi (豊臣秀吉), then the most
powerful warlord in Japan, who loved wealth in all its forms. Their
relationship started off with respect and friendliness, but
eventually Hideyoshi saw Rikyu as a political threat and ordered
him to commit seppuku (切腹, ritual suicide).
Hideyoshi suffered from the ills
of a man who has everything: He just couldn't stop or relax. Rikyu,
on the other hand, basked in the glorious luxury of not caring.
It's said that Sen sensed his demise months before Hideyoshi issued
the order. When the messenger was dispatched to inform Rikyu that
he must die, the tea master's affairs were in perfect order, his
family relocated to a safe haven and his few possessions sold off
to pay for a cheap chic funeral.
Extreme poverty, however, has
never been considered a good thing. Hinsureba donsuru (貧すれば鈍する, Poverty blunts the senses) is a phrase
that goes back a thousand years and is still in circulation — being
poor is one thing, but outright destitution must be avoided at all
cost. The distinction is layered and complicated:
Somatsu (祖末, simple, unadorned, inexpensive) has Buddhist
connotations and is commendable, but going lower than that
is migurushii
(見苦しい, insufferable to
witness).
A classic somatsu meal
called soshoku
(粗食)and consisting of
kayu (粥, rice porridge), misoshiru (みそ汁, miso soup) and tsukemono (漬け物, pickled vegetables) is the epitome of food
aesthetics: It is believed to nourish the spirit and brain without
damaging the body. But anything less than that will be
hinshoku (貧食, poverty food), tinged with desperation and
sadness.
Soi (粗衣, rough, simple clothing) are said to tone the
body and warm the naizō (内蔵, intestines), making it possible to do many
hours of hard work with little rest. Kabi na fukuso (華美な服装, decorated, luxurious clothing), however,
encourage taida (怠惰, laziness) and gōman (傲慢, arrogance), weakening both body and spirit.
Buddhist monks have traditionally worn sumizome (墨染め, charcoal dyed) robes to demonstrate their
adherence to physical poverty and nourishment of the
spirit.
During the Edo Period (1603-1867),
the Tokugawa Shogunate deemed that danihoshoku (暖衣飽食, warm clothing and plenty of food) would
ruin the nation, and Tokugawa Ieyasu took pains to instill stoicism
and modesty across the social hierarchy. Among the
bushikaikyuu
(武士階級, samurai class), especially,
money was fujyou (不浄, tainted) and too filthy to dwell upon. Until
Japan opened up to the West and came into contact with capitalism
(in the late 19th century), in fact, most Japanese couldn't or
preferred not to understand the concept of money. Now it seems we
have the hang of it — though, as grandfather pointed out, money
doesn't appear to bring out our best, at least not like a healthy
dose of deprivation.