Glimpses of Unfamiliar Japan: Second Series — A Reader’s Guide
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Lafcadio Hearn opens Glimpses of Unfamiliar Japan: Second Series by moving into a former samurai residence, a katchiu-yashiki, whose walled approach and barred lookout window immediately signal the feudal past. The house itself is one story with fourteen rooms, lofty and spacious, but the view is restricted: only part of the castle hill and a slice of sky are visible. The compensation is a garden divided into three sections, each with a different style, separated by ornamental screens of bamboo and rushes. Hearn’s description of the garden is not merely scenic; it becomes a lens through which he examines Japanese aesthetics, noting that the art requires years of study and an instinctive sense of beauty. This attention to physical detail and cultural meaning sets the tone for the entire collection.
A Garden as a World in Miniature
In the opening chapter, Hearn explains that Japanese gardens are not simple plantings but deliberate compositions meant to evoke natural landscapes in miniature. He describes the three divisions of his own garden, each with distinct features: one might suggest a mountain scene, another a seaside, a third a rustic path. The boundaries are marked not by solid fences but by open screens, indicating where one style ends and another begins. This principle of shakkei (borrowed scenery) is implied when he notes that the castle hill and pines are visible above the wall, integrating the outside into the garden’s design. Hearn’s observations are grounded in specific details: the moss, the stones, the water basins. He does not generalize about Japanese culture but instead shows how a single garden embodies a philosophy of nature and art.
The Household Shrine and Daily Ritual
Chapter two, “The Household Shrine,” shifts from outdoor space to domestic interior. Hearn describes the butsudan, a miniature altar containing mortuary tablets, before which a lamp burns and offerings of wild flowers are placed. In one excerpt, a young woman’s home contains such a shrine, with a picture of the Goddess of Mercy above it. The room is spotlessly clean, and the few objects are pretty: fusuma decorated with large Chinese characters suggesting themes like Spring Flowers or Autumn Moon. Hearn notes that the woman gives up her bed to a traveller, a gesture of hospitality that he presents without sentimentality. The shrine is not merely described but integrated into the narrative: the woman’s actions—lighting a fire, preparing food, apologizing for its quality—are framed by the presence of the altar, suggesting a life shaped by both practical kindness and spiritual observance.
Encounters with the Unseen
Later chapters, such as “Of Souls” and “Of Ghosts and Goblins,” move into folklore and the supernatural. Hearn’s approach is ethnographic: he recounts beliefs about spirits, often tied to specific places or customs. In one excerpt, a traveller is awakened by the sound of rapid footsteps, fearing robbers, but the narrative is cut short. The incomplete episode hints at a ghostly encounter, but Hearn does not confirm or explain. Instead, he lets the ambiguity stand, reflecting the Japanese attitude toward the unseen as part of everyday life. His writing here is restrained; he reports what he has heard or experienced without imposing Western rationalism. The effect is to make the unfamiliar seem plausible, not sensational. Readers are left to wonder whether the sound was real or imagined, a technique that mirrors the uncertainty of the traveller himself.
Voice and Structure Across the Essays
Hearn’s voice is that of a careful observer who is also a participant. He uses first-person narrative but often steps back to describe customs or landscapes with the precision of a naturalist. The essays vary in length and focus: some are personal diaries, others are reports on festivals or journeys. The second series includes chapters on women’s hair, a dancing-girl, and travels from Hoki to Oki. Each piece is self-contained, but together they build a cumulative portrait of Japan in the 1890s. Hearn does not claim expertise; he admits that understanding Japanese gardens requires years of study. His humility makes his observations trustworthy. The structure of the book—moving from domestic spaces to public festivals to ghost stories—mirrors his own deepening engagement with the country, from surface impressions to more intimate knowledge.
Readers approaching Glimpses of Unfamiliar Japan: Second Series should pay attention to the physical details: the layout of a garden, the objects in a room, the sounds in the night. Hearn builds his insights from these concrete observations, not from abstract theories. The book rewards slow reading, allowing each scene to unfold as it might have for the author. Because the excerpts are incomplete, some narratives remain unresolved, but that is part of the effect: Japan, for Hearn, was always partly unfamiliar.
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