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THE LENS WITHIN THE HEART
The Western Scientific Gaze
and Popular Imagery in Later Edo Japan
By TIMON SCREECH
Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 2002. 320 pages, $26 (paperback)
reviewed by Elizabeth Semmelhack
During the Edo period (1603-1868), Japan was home to a remarkably complex,
rich, and intriguing popular culture. Japanese prints and Kabuki theater
were born from this culture of "play," and although the West
has long had a fascination with things Japanese, in-depth investigations
into this enigmatic world have been surprisingly scarce. In particular,
Western writings that address Edo-period visual culture have been limited
in their intellectual depth. Timon Screech's book The Lens within the
Heart: The Western Scientific Gaze and Popular Imagery in Later Edo Japan
is anything but limited.
Rather than presenting a redundant review of the famous landscapes, Kabuki
actors, and "floating world" beauties featured in well-known
Japanese prints, Screech gazes beyond the surface of these images to examine
the significance of various details depicted in them, ranging from vantage
points to accessories. Specifically, he investigates how certain "scientific"
Western goods such as lenses, mirrors, clocks, and perspectival images
were embraced in eighteenth-century Japan and what meanings they were
given through depiction. While this approach is revelatory in and of itself,
the underlying premise of the book, that Western exotica was readily available
in Japan, confronts some commonly held notions concerning the isolationist
policies of the shogunate. Screech's discussion of how exotica was imported
(or smuggled) into Japan via Dutch traders, the only Westerners allowed
commerce with Japan during the Edo period, and how it was both physically
and psychologically incorporated into popular culture clearly refutes
the notion of a Japan utterly isolated from the rest of the world.
While Screech would have broken new scholarly ground by simply enumerating
the different types of objects and ideas imported into Japan, he probes
more deeply and attempts to ascertain the various meanings constructed
in Japan for this occidental exotica. Through the introduction of specific
historic individuals, he traces the flow of information and objects from
Dutch traders in Deshima, the artificial island in the bay of Nagasaki
to which they were confined, to Edo, the seat of shogunal power. The personalities
he introduces not only allow for specific connections to be made, but
also allow for an exploration into the different levels of engagement
individuals had with European things. For some individuals, like the artist
Shiba Kokan (1741- 1818), the study of Dutch things was a serious academic
undertaking and fell under the term rangaku, or Dutch learning.
For others, such as Santo Kyoden (1761-1816), the best-selling author
and tobacco-shop owner, the interest was more playful. This lighter, more
manipulated, incorporation of foreignness was termed ran, and in
many ways it is the influence of ran that makes for more interesting
study.
By looking at the more popular expressions of Japanese occidentalism,
Screech demonstrates how nuances of Edo-period popular culture can be
brought into focus. It is here that Screech suggests some interesting
connections. For example, he proposes that the importation of mirrors
may have been the impetus behind the subsequent fashion in Japanese prints
for mica as a background material in okubi-e (literally big-head
pictures) or that the Dutch interest in the collection and preserving
of specimens within glass containers was reinterpreted as a fashion trend
among the demimonde, who took to carrying (or having their servants carry)
glass fishbowls complete with live "specimen" fish. He goes
further and explores how the inner workings of a clock were used to promote
official policies that encouraged social stasis and how the magic lantern
was seen to offer proof of Taoist truths. His discussion of how lenses
were used as metaphoric vehicles for enabling the true nature of people
to be exposed is of particular interest.
There is something familiar about ran, and one is reminded of
contemporary Western trends for Asian exotica such as the fashion for
"zen" in the marketing of everything from spa treatments to
interior design. Just as a study of the current use of "zen"
would reveal a great deal about our own society, Screech's careful scrutiny
of the role played by, or, more accurately, constructed for, Western "scientific"
gadgets in Edo-period Japan is revelatory. Screech's book, although dense,
is an extremely ambitious, thoughtful work and is worth the effort for
anyone interested in the complexities of the period. The combination of
scholarly depth and readable prose gives a sense of the lived life in
eighteenth-century Japan. It is an utterly commendable book.
Elizabeth Semmelhack
is the curator of the Bata Shoe Museum in Toronto.
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