In Memoriam: Andrew L. Markus, 1954-1995 History and Biography in a Time of Literary Theory

In Memoriam: Andrew L. Markus, 1954-1995 History and Biography in a Time of LiteraryTheoryAuthor(s): Jeffrey JohnsonSource: The Journal of the Association of Teachers of Japanese, Vol. 32, No. 1 (Apr., 1998),pp. 39-53Published by: American Association of Teachers of JapaneseStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/489599 .

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JOURNAL OF THE ASSOCIATION OF TEACHERS OF JAPANESE [ 39

IN MEMORIAM: ANDREW L. MARIUS, 1954-1995 HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY IN A TIME OF LITERARY THEORY

by Jeffrey Johnson My concern here is to point out the various literary orientations one

can find in the work of Andrew Markus.1 His work centers on the late Edo period, and includes a monograph on Ryfitei Tanehiko, articles on the misemono carnivals, and Terakado Seken, among other research. Before rereading his work and undertaking the writing of this essay, I considered Andrew Markus' work to be, in large part, historical in orientation-a perception that I believe to be fairly widespread. But my findings in rereading his work have been that his work is very highly literary in orientation. Although it is surely an exaggeration to say that we in literary studies divide so easily into camps, there are those of theoretical orientation, and a biographical-historical orientation that has been prominent in the field of Japanese literature for a very long time. "Literary theory," which some find so threatening, I consider to be simply literary ideas. My definition of literary theory is not limited to the invasion of philosophy into literary studies (or there are those who say the co-opting of philosophy by literary studies). History and biography are disciplines that have long been integral components of literary studies; yet the notion that literature is an inferior history enjoys a certain currency-and from Tokugawa on the class distinction in the term "inferior" is valid. In Gary Leupp's "history" of Tokugawa's lower classes, he cites Saikaku's fiction so frequently that the history is virtually based on Saikaku. While this may have currency and may not disturb some historians, it certainly violates any notion of literature as being something other than history. The major problem with Leupp's approach to the history that may reside in Saikaku's texts is that which Professor Howard Hibbett has demonstrated in a few articles-that Saikaku's intention stems from a position of "detached gaiety."2 With comedy as a central aim of Saikaku's, any history based on his texts may be a history reconstructed on sand. Andrew Markus made the following observation of historicity in Ryuitei Tanehiko's texts, that Tanehiko took a "leisurely, at times cavalier, approach to all questions of historical fidelity."3 Of course, in addition to examining history through literary texts, there is also, conversely, the Hayden White approach of subjecting historical texts to critical readings, using techniques derived from literary criticism.



40 VOLUME 32, NUMBER 1

Nonetheless, literature certainly forms a part of any history of ideas and this view has been a mainstay in comparative literature. The purpose of Shuichi Kato's literary history, for example, is to demonstrate the relationship between Japan's intellectual history and its literature. But too often, in the hands of too many, literature has been read as determined by history. Biography, too, has held a determinist position vis-a-vis literature. The events of the author's life are often imposed upon the literary text. Not that there is no relationship between literature and history or biography. The

problem is that the imaginary world of words that is literature, in attempts by well-meaning people to understand it, is reduced to some concrete

sphere of human experience. As we shall see, there is no such determinism in Andrew Markus' use of history.

In Andrew Markus' literary studies the point of contact between history and the imaginary world of words is extremely important, and where he does focus on history, it is history "directly impacting literature as an institution"-to borrow his own phrase. For example, he gives the details of reforms such as the Tempo Reforms whose edicts could not but have had a

great impact on literature. "Sumptuary measures against extravagance and ostentation condemned fancy cooking and confectionery, collections of iris roots, overdecorated swords, battledores e crusted with precious metals.... Edicts regulated pipes and tobacco pouch s, the height of dolls, the

opulence of dollhouse furniture. Western lettering was prohibited on shop signs and advertisements."4 The nexus of the concrete and the imaginary is where history and literature interact in a dynamic process that defines their

relationship. Neither history nor the events of an author's life determine

literary production any more than literature determines history.

Literary theory, however, may be analogous to a synchronistic position; it consists primarily of uniquely literary ideas or approaches literature as

part of a history of ideas (or at least it should in its exemplary manifestations). If one considers literary theory as such, it has been with us for a long time in the form of introductions like those to the Kokinsha, theoretical writings by authors such as those of Zeami, and more recently in areas such as genre studies, etc. What most think of, however, are its most recent manifestations--cultural studies, post-colonial studies, post- structuralist criticism, deconstruction, narratology, etc., etc. At a conference of Japanese Literary Studies a couple years ago the theme centered on theoretical approaches vs. non-theoretical approaches in Japanese literary criticism. The great majority of those who lined up on the non-theoretical



JOURNAL OF THE ASSOCIATION OF TEACHERS OF JAPANESE 1 41

side went to extremes to show their comprehensive knowledge of theory while ostensibly rejecting its use on Japanese literary texts. This was a rather

paradoxical message, it occurred to me, since the demonstration of that

knowledge by those scholars at that conference seemed to indicate the

opposite of what was stated in their talks-and in effect constituted a double coded rejection-embrace of literary theory.

I used to imagine Andrew Markus cringing as he read my dissertation because of my dissertation's concern with theoretical issues. I am convinced that he never cracked a theoretical text, especially not those canonical theoretical texts that excited me, my fellow graduate students, and at least one of my Japanese professors. Nonetheless, I hope to demonstrate that this bifurcation of the discipline into historically-oriented and theoretically- oriented readings has very limited application to Andrew Markus' critical work. I think that it is fairly safe to say that he is generally taken to be of the historical school, so, those interested in theory consider his work an anachronism. However, in rereading his work, I was struck, not by the historical and biographical, although it is as meticulous as it is exceptional-but by the literary qualities in his work. There are concerns expressed at numerous junctures in his writings that reveal how his pursuit is highly literary. In his meticulous research, worthy of one of Japan's kokubungakusha, I discovered not only a wealth of detail which brought an age to life, but a great wealth of literary information, and at times, hints at potentially theoretical issues, sometimes in the very vocabulary of theoretical discourse. The literary in Andrew Markus' work is not the handmaiden to history, even though he unfolds the historical aspects brilliantly; the motivation of this literary scholar and the literary issues he addresses go beyond the simple camps and reveal the great loss that the field has suffered.

In the following examination of his work, I will move from a brief examination demonstrating historical concerns, to traditional literary concerns, to potential theoretical issues, and in doing so I will foreground the literary in his work. Under consideration are portions of the Tanehiko study and his articles on misemono, the Daiso library, banquets, and Terakado Seiken.

To HISTORY

With the opening sentences of his article, "The Carnival of Edo: Misemono Spectacles from Contemporary Accounts," we enter the world of



42 1 VOLUME 32, NUMBER 1

Edo: "At a crowded bazaar, inside the precincts of a major shrine or temple, or at the otherwise undistinguished intersection of two busy thoroughfares, the urban pedestrian of Edo period Japan was sure to encounter one of the most colorful and at the same time ephemeral manifestations of his

culture."5 The opening of the article, "Shogakai: Celebrity Banquest of the Late Edo Period," also sets a historical stage, depicting the cooperative nature of artistic production during Edo: "The importance of communal or

cooperative effort in the creative world of the Edo period needs little

emphasis: kyoka, senryu, and haikai poetry flourished among circles of dedicated amateurs; late Edo gesaku fiction owed its success to the close collaboration of author and artist, later relay teams of authors and artists."' In both cases the passages place one in a certain milieu of Edo culture.

Throughout his work-whether discussing banquets, misemono, Tanehiko, or Seiken-the reader finds a richness of historical facts such as publication figures and the years of various editions. In this area of historical information, the article, "Daiso Lending Library of Nagoya, 1767-1899," stands out, creating a portrait of an important avenue in the circulation of

literary materials, the kashihonya. The Onoya Sohachi lending library of

Nagoya served a population of 100,000 with 21,000 books to lend. We are

given details of the prices, the most conspicuous customers, the classification system, and the percentages that a given genre or subject matter constituted of the total holdings of the lending library. In order to

gain some understanding of the popularity of a certain text or genre among the readership, our researcher provides a measure of the demand for certain titles.

The demand for certain titles is deduced by the number of copies made in order to meet the circulation demand of the reading public. And on the basis of copies and number of titles we get the following overall picture: "recreational categories constitute the heart of the collection, and include most of the largest categories."' Under the rubric of "sheer numbers of titles" the following picture emerges: there were 1,482 kusazoshi (which included kiby6shi and gokan); 802 sharebon; 727 military/war tales; 552

j3ruri play scripts; 495 texts of vendettas or disputed succession of samurai households; 359 ninjobon; and 357 humorous works of various kinds.

Again the greatest measure of popularity would be the number of titles plus the number of duplicates available. Illustrated war tales lead all other genres with 200 titles and 298 copies. The single most numerous title was the E-hon Taikoki, of which there were ten sets. The popularity of other genres



JOURNAL OF THE ASSOCIATION OF TEACHERS OF JAPANESE 1 43

seems to have run as follows: j6ruri scripts, ninj6bon, kusazoshi, kabuki

scripts, kokkeibon, and sharebon. The greatest demand for individual titles were the following: [six sets each of] E-hon Nankoki E-hon Chtishingura, and Hiza-kurige. Then there were five sets of Bakin and Ky6den's yomihon, Tanehiko's Inaka Genji and Kana-dehon Ch4shingura The major authors in the collection were: Sant6 Ky6den, Jippensha Ikku, and Kyokutei Bakin. This historical information uncovers a history of literary taste (at least of the

populace of Nagoya), some measure of literacy, and can to some degree can be taken as representative of Japan in the years of the Daiso's operation.

In this and other critical works numerous historical facts emerge: years of measles epidemics; disasters, natural and otherwise; fluctuations of the Edo economy; pilgrimage crazes; the fire in 1865 at the lending library, etc. The changes brought about by the Meiji reforms accomplished what fires could not and, as this last fact attests, the effect of these historical events on literature as an institution was always foremost in the mind of our researcher.

THE LITERARY

The wealth of literary information in Andrew Markus' criticism includes the use of traditional literary jargon such as trochaic tetrameter, the mention of the "baroque intricacies," and an uncovering of Tanehiko's "fundamental literary tenets."' There are genre definitions which include the more traditional concerns such as the physical characteristics of the texts, and those with more abstract concerns such as, themes, narrative structure, cross-genre blending, questions of theatricality, spectacle, literary philosophy, and cosmology. These definitions, one can see, range from traditional, historical, and material approaches to generic concerns, and

potentially theoretical questions. We shall now turn to a number of genre definitions, sometimes more,

sometimes less elaborate, which appear in Willow in Autumn. First, let us examine a brief definition of the kiby6shi and some accompanying observations.

The kibyoshi had its zenith in the 1780s and "typically contained

gentle raillery against the absurdities and weaknesses of contemporary society; later kibyoshi sometimes hazarded a mild form of political satire... . In almost every case the kiby6shi retained some elements of its childish storybook origins, and creative fantasy, rather than dour political allegory, is the dominant channel of appeal."'9 This genre definition, as can be seen, is




concerned with literary modes of a text: satire, fantasy, and the lack of

allegory. Because of its importance to Tanehiko, more attention is given to

defining yomihon. Tanehiko's yomihon of 1807 to 1813 are referred to as

"romances," which is not much elaborated upon, but nonetheless not a neutral term. In a general overview of a few yomihon writers and their

major concerns, Markus states, "Tsuga Teisho (1718-ca. 1794) and Itami Chin'en (fl. 1780) advanced their yomihon as an exposition of Sinological theses; Akinari and Masamochi used their yomihon as a forum for their

Kokugaku contentions."'0 Tanehiko, however, used yomihon as a forum to demonstrate his readings in and profound knowledge of early modern culture. The works of other authors writing in this genre were "the obedient if somewhat dour daughter of scholarly research" while Tanehiko's

yomihon were "less pedantic and more dynamic than [their] eighteenth century antecedents." The world of Tanehiko's first yomihon was "somber and menacing, despite occasional idyllic intervals."" Action took place in "trackless forests, ruined temples, eerie mountain caverns, [and] its favored time [the] nights of deep darkness or violent storm." These texts were

populated by "brigands, pirates, malicious thugs, scheming ministers, and sorcerers" and they showed a penchant for gruesomeness, with scenes of

"rape, torture, and dismemberment." Yet behind gruesomeness and

unsavory characters looms the "ordering presence of destiny" which fixes moral character and one's propensity toward good or evil. Tanehiko's early yomihon "repeatedly demonstrate the certain victory of righteousness over evil and disruption."12 The yomihon characters were drawn in black and white: there was "little middle ground between scheming fiends" and "heroes of gigantic virtue, or maidens of oppressive purity." In plot construction one sees the cosmology play itself out with "the vessel[s] of

righteousness, .... most frequently the weakest member[s] of society," who are "at first the victims of every indignity, [but, in the end] triumph resoundingly over their persecutors."13 These observations give us a

description of the relationships between the characters, their world, and the extratextual world. Additionally, an element of cosmology is indicated; a

cosmology which may be more operative in the text than in the world outside. "The Tanehiko yomihon becomes an extended allegory of the

power of the natural moral order to heal its wounds, and redress

imbalances;"'4 the "romantic" aspects of the yomihon refer to an idyllic quality that includes the predestined triumph of good over the greater forces of evil.



JOURNAL OF THE ASSOCIATION OF TEACHERS OF JAPANESE 45

As a brief summary of the generic sketch provided here, it includes: authorial intentions of the various authors, an indication of one aspect of the operative cosmology, a description of the fictional world, and the characters populating that fictional world.

The genre that receives the most attention and careful definition in Willow in Autumn is, of course, gokan. In examining the definition I will move from physical description, to narrative characteristics, and then to theme and structure. The length of works in the gokan genre was standardized: "30 double pages, often in 2 volumes of 15 pages apiece." Gokan had elaborate frontispieces with striking dramatic depictions of the

principal characters in the text, often accompanied by a short caption or editorial comment. The paper used in gokan production was superior to

previous kusazoshi. Illustrated covers more than any other feature served as the hallmark of the gokan.'5 Illustrations constitute an extra-literary element to today's reader but, "Like the twentieth-century magazine or 'mass-market' paperback, the gokan flourished or perished primarily on the

strength of its artwork."16 Therefore, there was an "intimate inter-

dependence of text and illustration in the gokan..." "The necessarily close

relationship between the gokan artist and author suggests more the intimate coordination of a modern cartoon animator and his storyboard writer.""17

"[T]he themes of injustice and thundering revenge dominated" the earliest

years of gokan production. The narrative's storyline included: staggeringly complex plots, dozens of characters, and multiple impersonations. Gokan also contained weird and lurid scenes such as disembodied heads, heads

turning into skulls, the butchery of victims, romantic misadventures of lovers, and scenes such as one in which a character leaps to heaven on the back of a gigantic enchanted toad.is The structure of the narratives is defined as if by a true structuralist: "[t]he structure of these tales was largely similar, despite variations in the particulars: an initial murder, the

subsequent abasement of the righteous and temporary exaltation of the villainous, and a final scene of vengeance, often abetted by ghosts or divine

agency."" The gokan genre in particular is given a rather thorough treatment, in both material aspects, and narrative features.

These three genre definitions showing considerable attention to literary issues are contained in Willow in Autumn. Another aspect of the diversity of

literary analysis in Willow in Autumn is the examination of the "theatricality" in these narrative texts; that is, an examination of cross-genre influences from dramatic forms to narrative forms and the resulting




hybridization. From Tanehiko's love of Chikamatsu he drew great inspiration: "Tanehiko introduced the dignity of unexceptional lives, the

novelty of disinterested affection, and the pathos of the ordinary-all lessons learned or reinforced from a sedulous reading of Chikamatsu's works."20 In the narrative borrowing from j6ruri puppet theater, one sees Tanehiko's knowledge of Chikamatsu manifest itself. This sometimes occurs in the form of a Chikamatsu pastiche: the setting of the opening scenes is public; the tenor is heroic; they are dominated by formal and

family concerns. All of these elements are characteristics of the jidaimono style. Subsequent scenes are in a contemporary setting, intimate, in

commonplace surroundings, and are dominated by personal concerns, characteristics of the sewa-mono style. The characters in these narratives are conscious actors: they feign fidelity, love, madness, and they impersonate-creating a "world of masks and moving shadows."21 As the

analysis indicates, Tanehiko's fascination with the performing arts extended

beyond incidental allusions or the reproduction of celebrated individual scenes to the "imposition of formal dramatic structures on entire works."22 This can be seen too in his most famous gokan, "[t]he most striking modern component of Inaka Genji is undoubtedly its extreme theatricality. ... The author intends his text to be an amalgam of the monogatari, puppet theater, and kabuki styles."23

The most outstanding example of the prominence of theater in Tanehiko's narratives is his Shohon-jitate (Stories in a Promptbook Form), which is a gokan series that was published between 1815 and 1831. This series "translated" "the kabuki theatergoer's experience to a static framework of text and illustration."24 It contained a wealth of theatrical associations, "maintained a certain stylistic unity, and often featured thematic continuity from installment to installment over several years."25 In the seventeenth

century shohon was a corrected text of a complete j6ruri drama. There were

generally two versions, one for reading, one for private recitation. The term shohon entered the kabuki vocabulary and referred to scripts of single acts which included sketchy musical and stage directions. Later, they contained

"synopsis of a kabuki play, quotations of memorable lines, and occasional illustrations, [they] were in public circulation, and served as unofficial

programs."26 There were also scripts with synopses previous to Tanehiko's: the illustrated j6ruri shohon in the Genroku period. Later there were some two hundred e-iri kydgen-bon: they consisted of ten-page synopses of kabuki plays with illustrations of actors in a performance, and at times, they



JOURNAL OF THE ASSOCIATION OF TEACHERS OF JAPANESE I 47

included a critique of actors. Shohon style and gokan format were not

unique to Tanehiko either: Samba and Kunisada had collaborated on Futari kaburo tsuino adauchi (The Two Apprentice Courtesans and Their Tandem Vendetta) in 1808.

The narrative-as-theater text would include tsuke clappers and stage directions in a fusion of stage direction and narrative, as in this

excerpt-"Just then the bell sounds to proclaim the dawn. Keisaku and O-Mitsu hide their tears, their gaze by turns fixed on, averted from the other's. Down crash the blinds in the simple palanquin. Clappers: clack! Crow calls: caw, caw, caw! Curtain."27 At times the narrative is

indistinguishable from kabuki scripts-the difficulty is in a "presumed knowledge of a specialized theatrical milieu-a milieu not easily resurrected, even in the mind of the most avid theatergoer of the late twentieth

century."28 Illustrations by Kunisada of the details of the theatrical

productions "promote rather than detract from the impact of the

spectacle."29 These texts were divided into acts and dialogue dominated sometimes to the exclusion of all narrative. There are soliloquies to the reader, joruri narration with metrics, kakekotoba, and assonance-all of which attest to the prominence of theatricality in the text. In terms of plot the familiar plot cliches included frequent variations on recovering the stolen heirloom, questions of one's honor, and blows administered with sandals to that honor. Additionally, there are theatrical archetypes: the loyal and nefarious counselors, the libertine heir, and the generous courtesan.

Finally there were the dramatic fictional devices: situations with sudden tension and conspicuous resolution; conspiracy; evildoers who burst onto a scene, followed by heroes. More specifically theatrical were the michiyuki passages with topographical word play in regular five-seven syllable patterns; acrobatics; and characters who would grope about in confusion as in kabuki danmari (dumb show). These characteristics of the blending of dramatic devices and narrative constitute part of the theatricality of Tanehiko's work, but the central principle of theatricality is this: "[t]he guiding principle throughout Shohon-jitate is that life must imitate art: Dialogue is not true to life, but true to the diction of the stage; clothing must suggest costumes; scenes suggest sets,-in sum-"the stagier the better."30 In one mise-en- abyme installment the characters in text perform--creating a textual

"Theaterland.'"31 The particulars given us of Tanehiko's narrative-as-theater: soliloquies to the reader, j6ruri narration with metrics, kakekotoba, assonance, plot cliches, theatrical archetypes, michiyuki passages, acrobatics,



48 I VOLUME 32, NUMBER 1

etc., which are brought into the discussion in Willow in Autumn, are in themselves important contributions to Japanese literary scholarship. Additionally, the terms employed in his discussion such as those describing pastiche and genre hybridization as "translation"-and of course the term "theatricality"-are rich in theoretical implications. The phenomenon of spectacle has spurred extensive theoretical discussions inside and outside of literary and dramatic studies. Matsuri and modern Japanese theater have been discussed in this context, and Turner and Yamaguchi used this analytical frame to examine n6 drama. Yet, kabuki, or better yet, kabuki hybrids, have not received critical attention. Also, from the notion of theatricality, the fictional world as theater, as world-as-theater, the mise-en- abyme structure Markus has indicated, has been analyzed as signifying that 'life must imitate art,'-a position that has received no small amount of attention in discussions of the arts, as well as great attention in artistic production. Yet, Tanehiko's work is prior to such metafictional techniques and discussions in the West. The door has been opened for an East-West literary dialogue and the refinement of the structure and significance of theatricality.

The blending of contemporary culture, the early Edo period, the middle ages, and the Heian period-the eclecticism of Tanehiko-is what appealed to Andrew Markus. Such eclecticism required his unique kind of scholarship to deal sensitively with its remoteness from modern literary categories. Tanehiko put to narrative the artistic superimposition of modernity on antiquity that can also be found in ukiyo-e prints and the theater. In briefest definition, "Inaka Genji is a hon'an, a translation or transposition of the Tale of Genji into a sekai or world of the latter fifteenth century."32 However, the "Muromachi setting remains a conventional veneer of the most superficial sort;"33 the text abounds with deliberate anachronisms: kabuki and j6ruri, clocks, telescopes, tobacco, and shamisen.

Closely related to this anachronistic treatment are questions of ga and zoku. The basic element of ga derives from the Genii but generally includes the courtly and archaic. The elements of zoku in Inaka Genji include colloquialisms, theatricisms, and catchwords of the day. The creation of an inaka Genji is "the translation of the acknowledged pinnacle of literary refinement into the humblest of popular vessels."34 Tanehiko's success in weaving the "two antithetical principles" was "his compromise of elegant and vulgar elements" and "an ability to appeal simultaneously to the most diverse spectrum of literacy and sophistication."35 Questions of ga and zoku



JOURNAL OF THE ASSOCIATION oF TEACHERS OF JAPANESE 1 49

are an important part of Japanese critical thought, but the superimposition of Genji monogatari upon a work of j6ruri, then again superimposed upon a work of kabuki, appearing in a narrative involving a historical hybrid of Heian-Muromachi-Genroku-late Edo is quite beyond the layering one finds in, for example, the ukiyo-e of courtesans as mitate of the seven gods of

good fortune.

The critical work on Terakado Seiken is also concerned with a unique blending of ga and zoku, and with the high-low blending as a vehicle, Seiken extends his work into the realm of satire. While the authorities of all

ages seem singularly to lack any sense of humor, the nexus of politics and the arts during the Edo period was sometimes a place of censorship, sometimes a place of brutality. While Terakado Seiken was quite conservative in his beliefs, his innovation of kanbun as an instrument of social satire was clearly a stroke of genius. In an ostensibly Confucian age this Japanized Chinese was the vessel of the high culture. Terakado Seiken used "mock-scholarly"36 prose as a satirical weapon to discuss the frivolities of the age. This raised the laughter of its readers, and the eyebrows (and later the hand) of the authorities. His "irreverent juxtapositions of Confucius and cheap snack food ... deflate at every turn the lofty aura of

nobility Seiken elaborates through his grandly resonant style."37 A staple of his satire is the juxtaposition of high and low cultures: streetwalkers, pickpockets, night soil dealers, side by side with affluent mistresses, pompous doctors, ecclesiastics, and of course, samurai. An "inversion of the ideal" is always operative in satire,38 but the brilliance of Seiken derives from the "disjuncture between style and content,"39 and the fact that "Edo

hanjoki [was] composed in a fantastic hothouse strain of literary Chinese ... [it is a] baroque mix of tag lines from the classics and Sinified street

jargon."40 This "subversion of literary propriety" revealed "a sardonic wit behind a half-donned mask of high solemnity."41 The potentially theoretical issues, and the terminology which has a certain currency: theatricality, masking, genre translation, spectacle, etc., lead me to the "latent theory" in the writings of Andrew Markus.

POTENTIAL FOR THEORY

The greatest theoretical potential lies in the article, "The Carnival of Edo: Misemono Spectacles from Contemporary Accounts." Covering similar

ground is Harootunian's article entitled "Cultural Politics in Tokugawa Japan." Harootunian discusses the milieu of the Edo period cities as one of "spectacle and diversity."42 His analysis is admittedly Bakhtinian and his




concern is with the inversion of Confucianist principles by print and narrative artists in Edo. Much of his analysis is of artistic and sociological spaces which relate to heterodoxy, the celebration of play, and double

perspectives. In Harootunian's terms this process was the "transformation of the city into a cultural space that constantly recoded vertical relationships into horizontal groupings."43 This very space was uncovered several years earlier in Markus' work. In "The Carnival of Edo," from a historical, purely descriptive perspective, Andrew Markus sketches the urban vitality of Edo's

popular culture and the particular phenomenon of misemono that was aimed at an urban middle class audience. Misemono was vulgar hucksterism that sought to profit from any novelty. These carnival-like scenes displayed animals, artifacts from abroad, including the West, and, "freaks and

deformities."44 Later misemono had the components of-and I must point out the structuralist approach again-"a rarity, an enclosure, a fixed price of admission, and a fanciful text for the exhibitor."45 It made the comical and sometimes censored fiction of gesaku appear conservative and stodgy. Drawing spectators from every level of society, misemono took place in theater districts and temple fairs, where it fed on a steady flow of idlers and

curiosity seekers. But "the location whose very name evoked the crowds and carnival gaiety of the misemono show was the Ryogoku Bridge,"46 an urban crossroads.

In an apology for the study of misemono, our researcher cites the

process of the elevation of the vulgar to high art: n6 from sarugaku or

sangaku; rakugo from humble origins in marketplaces; and kabuki from

indecent burlesque. In almost the same breath as this apology, he states that a whole array of "beggars' arts" deserves research. Nevertheless, the

phenomenon of misemono appeared in the literary arts as well. It appears in

Saikaku and Kiseki, and served as inspiration for Gennai's Hohiron- Disquisition on Flatulence, 1774 & 1777. As for misemono-esque activity in the Japan of today, he writes, "Asakusa today preserves some satisfying residue of seediness."'47 Concern with a milieu such as misemono, and the connection Harootunian makes to a kind of democratization, is what Bakhtin discusses as a liminal sphere where there is a breakdown of classes

and groupings, and a plurality of languages. Bakhtin contends that the literary manifestation of this sort of milieu is an "anti-genre," what is most often called the novel. The discussion above of the hybridization of genres lends credence to the application of this body of thought to the narrative

production, as well as the sociological spaces, of Tokugawa Japan.



JOURNAL OF THE ASSOCIATION OF TEACHERS OF JAPANESE I 51

CONCLUSION

The literary criticism of Andrew Markus is what I consider to be an

exemplary blend of East-West critical technique. It includes the more traditional Japanese critical concerns, rhetorical devices such as kakekotoba, shuko, hon'an, sekai, ga and zoku, and the traditional concerns with the

physical characteristics of the texts: length, type of paper, illustrations, etc. It includes cross-over concerns such as genre definitions and themes. And then there are the more typically western concerns of narrative structure,

emplotment, characterization, romance, satire, fantasy, pastiche, the macabre, and allegory. Additionally, there are the broader concerns of

theatricality, spectacle, cosmology, and literary philosophy. His work has opened the door to the enormous potential of discussions

such as carnivalesque spaces. His indication of the potential in researching beggar's arts within itself contains an enactment of the juxtaposition of high and low culture-exactly what he saw in Seiken. His scholarly interests are current, his meticulous research is in dire shortage elsewhere and his

scholarship contains indications for the refinement of certain theoretical

concepts. What his work may lack in engagement with theoretical issues, he more than makes up for, in that his criticism operates at the nexus of the concrete and the imaginary where literature and history interact. Critical work such as his embodies the concerns of all: relationships between the fictional characters, their fictional world, the extratextual world, and to what degree it has implications for our world.

While literary theory tips the balance of criticism toward synchronous considerations of literature, and constitutes a body of literary ideas from which to approach literature, diachronic concerns should not be lost in this

process. While historical approaches concentrate on diachronic conditions, national and regional considerations, synchronic concerns should not be lost in this process. The kind of East-West, synchronic-diachronic dialogue I have tried to highlight in Andrew Markus' work serves as a model to us all. The "time of theory" in my title perhaps needs to be tempered with an Andrew Markus-like blending of literature, history, and biography.

NOTES

1. Andrew Markus passed away in the autumn of 1995. This paper was delivered at the Andrew L. Markus Memorial Symposium in the spring of 1996.




2. Howard Hibbett, "Saikaku and Burlesque Fiction," Harvard ournal ofAsiatic Studies, Vol. 20 (1957), pp. 53-73; p. 64.

3. Andrew Markus, Willow in Autumn: Ryutei Tanehiko, 1783-1842, Harvard-

Yenching Monograph Series, 35 (Cambridge and London: Council on East Asian Studies, Harvard University Press, 1992), p. 129.

4. Willow, p. 181.

5. Andrew Markus, "The Carnival of Edo: Misemono Spectacles from

Contemporary Accounts," Harvard Journal ofAsiatic Studies, Vol. 45 (1985),

pp. 499- 541.

6. Andrew Markus, "Shogakai: Celebrity Banquets of the Late Edo Period," Harvard Journal ofAsiatic Studies, Vol. 53 (1993), pp. 135-167; p. 135.

7. Andrew Markus, "Daiso Lending Library of Nagoya, 1767-1899," The Gest

Library Journal, Vol. 3 (1989-90), pp. 5-34; p. 15.

8. Willow, p. 164.

9. Ibid., p. 63.

10. Ibid., p. 53.

11. Ibid., p. 46.

12. Ibid., p. 47.

13. Ibid., p. 48.

14. Ibid., p. 47.

15. Ibid., p. 67.

16. Ibid., p. 82.

17. Ibid., p. 83.

18. Ibid., p. 85.

19. Ibid., p. 67.

20. Ibid., p. 95.

21. Ibid., p. 92.

22. Ibid., p. 57.

23. Ibid., p. 135.

24. Ibid., p. 72.

25. Ibid., p. 121.

26. Ibid., p. 73.

27. Ibid., p. 76.



JOURNAL OF THE AssocIATION OF TEACHERS OF JAPANESE I 53

28. Ibid., p. 78.

29. Ibid., p. 78.

30. Ibid., p. 75.

31. Ibid., p. 75.

32. Ibid., p. 128.

33. Ibid., p. 129.

34. Ibid., p. 139.

35. Ibid., p. 87.

36. Andrew Markus, "Meat and Potatoes: Two Selections from Edo Hanjoki," Sino-Japanese Studies, Vol. 4 (1992), pps. 7-26; p. 7.

37. "Meat," p. 8.

38. Ibid., p. 9.

39. Andrew Markus, "Terakado Seiken's Blossoms along the Sumida," Sino-

Japanese Studies, Vol. 3 (1991), pp. 9-29; p. 11.

40. Willow, p. 186.

41. "Sumida," p. 12.

42. H. D. Harootunian, "Cultural Politics in Tokugawa Japan," in Undercurrents in the Floating World. Censorship and the Japanese Prints, Sarah Thompson and H.D. Harootunian, eds. New York: East Asia Galleries, 1991, pp. 7-28; p. 7.

43. Ibid., p. 14.

44. "Misemono," p. 529.

45. Ibid., p. 503.

46. Ibid., p. 507.

47 Ibid., p. 541.



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In Memoriam: Andrew L. Markus, 1954-1995 History and Biography in a Time of Literary Theory

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