KIMONO by JOHN PARIS 1922 CONTENTS CHAPTER I AN ANGLO-JAPANESE MARRIAGE II HONEYMOON III EASTWARDS IV NAGASAKI V CHONKINA VI ACROSS JAPAN VII THE EMBASSY VIII THE HALF-CASTE GIRL IX ITO SAN X THE YOSHIWARA WOMEN XI A GEISHA DINNER XII FALLEN CHERRY-BLOSSOMS XIII THE FAMILY ALTAR XIV THE DWARF TREES XV EURASIA XVI THE GREAT BUDDHA XVII THE RAINY SEASON XVIII AMONG THE NIKKO MOUNTAINS XIX YAÉ SMITH XX THE KIMONO XXI SAYONARA (GOOD-BYE) XXII FUJINAMI ASAKO XXIII THE REAL SHINTO XXIV THE AUTUMN FESTIVAL XXV JAPANESE COURTSHIP XXVI ALONE IN TOKYO XXVII LADY BRANDAN _Utsutsu wo mo Utsutsu to sara ni Omowaneba, Yume wo mo yume to Nani ka omowamu? Since I am convinced That Reality is in no way Real, How am I to admit That dreams are dreams?_ The verses and translation above are taken from A. Waley's "JAPANESE POETRY: THE UTA" (Clarendon Press), as are many of the classical poems placed at the head of the chapters. CHAPTER I AN ANGLO-JAPANESE MARRIAGE _Shibukaro ka Shiranedo kaki no Hatsu-chigiri_. Whether the fruit be bitter Or whether it be sweet, The first bite tells. The marriage of Captain the Honourable Geoffrey Barrington and Miss Asako Fujinami was an outstanding event in the season of 1913. It was bizarre, it was picturesque, it was charming, it was socially and politically important, it was everything that could appeal to the taste of London society, which, as the season advances, is apt to become jaded by the monotonous process of Hymen in High Life and by the continued demand for costly wedding presents. Once again Society paid for its seat at St. George's and for its glass of champagne and crumb of cake with gifts of gold and silver and precious stones enough to smother the tiny bride; but for once in a way it paid with a good heart, not merely in obedience to convention, but for the sake of participating in a unique and delightful scene, a touching ceremony, the plighting of East and West. Would the Japanese heiress be married in a kimono with flowers and fans fixed in an elaborate _coiffure_? Thus the ladies were wondering as they craned their necks to catch a glimpse of the bride's procession up the aisle; but, though some even stood on hassocks and pew seats, few were able to distinguish for certain. She was so very tiny. At any rate, her six tall bridesmaids were arrayed in Japanese dress, lovely white creations embroidered with birds and foliage. It is hard to distinguish anything in the perennial twilight of St. George's; a twilight symbolic of the new lives which emerge from its Corinthian portico into that married world about which so much has been guessed and so little is known.