Japanese Plays and Playfellows — A Closer Reading

A Self-Aware Narrator

Edwards positions himself as a partial spectator, not a detached sociologist. He admits to studying Japanese with native teachers and devouring travel records before arriving, yet his tone remains provisional. In describing his hostess Tanaka Okusama, he notes her knowledge of Epaminondas came from a popular novel, not deep scholarship, and he gently mocks his own vague recall of the Theban general. This self-deprecation extends to his observations on class: he is surprised by the easy familiarity between servants and guests, but quickly corrects his Western assumption that prostrations imply subservience. Instead, he argues that Japan's rigid caste system permits more real democracy than Western class distinctions, because everyone knows their place. The narrator's voice is that of a curious, occasionally bewildered outsider who learns by making mistakes.

Time as a Negligible Convention

One of the most vivid cultural clashes Edwards describes is the Japanese attitude toward time. He contrasts Western life governed by machinery and chronometers with the Oriental indifference to punctuality. Invitations become fluid: a promised call may interrupt a toilette or a siesta, and guests arrive hours late or not at all. Initially put out, Edwards gradually realizes that in this happy country offence is not readily given or taken, and that following the impulse of the moment is wiser than aping the precision of a clock. He recounts a British trader's complaint that the Japanese can never become a great nation because they are so unbusinesslike, but Edwards doubts the conclusion, pointing to Russian merchants as equally dilatory yet capable of promptitude in military or political matters. This section captures the book's blend of personal anecdote and broader cultural reflection.

Theatrical Focus and Its Limits

Edwards's stated purpose is to fill a gap in descriptions of Japanese theater, and the excerpts confirm his attention to Nō drama, with a reference to Benkei at Sea. However, the surviving text offers little detail on actual performances. The preface mentions indebtedness to scholars like Chamberlain and Aston for lore and literature, and to figures like Fenollosa for opportunities, but the reader must infer the content of the theatrical chapters from the catalog subjects: theater, Japanese drama, and social life. The personal reminiscences dominate the available excerpts, suggesting that the book's value lies as much in its portrait of the author's education in Japanese manners as in its dramatic analysis. Edwards's voice remains that of an enthusiast who knows his limitations, offering impressions rather than systematic study.

Readers approaching this work should expect a hybrid: part travel memoir, part theatrical sketch, held together by a narrator who is frank about his brief stay and his biases. The most rewarding passages may be those where Edwards lets his own bewilderment stand as evidence, as when he describes learning to abandon punctuality. The theatrical sections, though central to the book's design, are best understood as one thread in a broader weave of cultural encounter. Treat the personal anecdotes not as digressions but as the primary material from which Edwards draws his conclusions about Japanese character and custom.

Reading Edwards’s quiet exasperation with punctuality dissolving into Japanese nonchalance, I found myself recalling the theatrical impatience in The Torch-Bearers: A Satirical Comedy in Three Acts — Context and Discussion. Both works understand time as a social performance, yet their tones differ so gently, like two friends remembering the same failed appointment—one smiling, the other sighing.