As seen in the movie Lost in Translation , when the Japanese deal with Westerners there are always things that are irretrievably “lost” in the translation. Actually, it is an old problem. The first exchanges between the two worlds began almost 500 years ago, in the midst of the Age of Discovery, and since then there have been many cultural misunderstandings. Some, like that of a certain English captain recently arrived in the land of the rising sun, are not without their grace. And it is that, sometimes, East and West seem doomed to never fully understand each other.
At the beginning of the s. XVII, the Pacific Ocean was already a familiar territory for Castilian and Portuguese navigators. But, little by little, the English and Dutch began to make their first steps in colonial trade, in the shadow of the Iberian giant. Barely a century later they would be the lords of the seas, but in 1613 venturing into those latitudes was still a more than risky adventure for the subjects of his graceful majesty. In that same year the Clove , led by the intrepid John Saris , would culminate an unthinkable feat:being the first English ship to arrive in Japanese land . The objective of the expedition was to contact another compatriot, William Adams , who had arrived in Japan as a castaway on a Dutch ship a few years before and, being a smart guy, had worked it out in such a way that he had become an advisor to the first Tokugawa shoguns in international relations. Adams himself has a fascinating story that is worth telling in detail, but today we will focus on Captain Saris, whose mission was to track him down and establish a stable trade route with England. Certainly for the newly created East India Company this was a wonderful opportunity to open new markets. None other than the legendary Cipango , the country of silks and gold that Marco Polo spoke of. The dangers of the seven seas did not matter, in Japan there was business and the London accountants wanted their piece of the cake.
Modern reconstruction of the Clove
After a trip full of vicissitudes, crossing half the world, John Saris finally managed to sight the Japanese coast. He did it in Hirado , in the extreme south of the country, an area of notable foreign influence at the time. In nearby Nagasaki , a city practically governed by the Jesuits, Spanish galleons worked regularly. In the surroundings there were Portuguese and Dutch factories that animated the local economy with the trade of silks and silver. And, despite the increasingly frequent persecutions, there were also many native converts to the Christian faith. It seemed like the ideal place to make a first contact. But in little Hirado they weren't as used to Europeans as in Nagasaki . When in doubt, the lord of those lands opted for prudence:before letting them disembark happily, first they had to leave those barbarians in quarantine for a while, so they wouldn't disturb public order more than they should. So Saris had to content himself with anchoring at the mouth of the harbor and patiently receiving delegation after delegation of local officials on his boat. Officials scrutinizing the crew of the Clove with the same eyes of someone who meets a Martian when turning the corner.
One fine day the lord of Hirado himself , Matsuura Shigenobu , he came in person to inspect the ship. And on the way, he brought along some court ladies, concubines, and wives of high-ranking nobles, who were no doubt dying of curiosity to catch a glimpse of such colorful visitors. But, as they were about to find out, boarding a group of delicate females aboard a galleon full of sailors who haven't set foot on land for months is not exactly a good idea. To get some background, we must explain that Captain Saris was a man with very particular artistic sensibilities. A fan of women with generous flesh, he had his cabin full of canvases and drawings of ladies in underclothes. The jewel in his collection was a stunning oil painting of a nude and rather well-endowed Venus “in the most lascivious pose ”, In his own words. But, in reality, the sea dog did not dislike anything. The Japanese ones, even having less resounding forms, also made him tick.
Venus (in the style of the time)
Seeing the ladies of the entourage, he wasted no time in inviting them to his chambers to show them his collection. If things went well, maybe even he could catch something that day. But they didn't quite get the hint. What would not be the surprise of the Englishman when, before the painting of the busty Venus, the ladies prostrated themselves on their knees, crossed themselves, and began to pray in Latin! Indeed,they had confused Venus with a picture of the Virgin Mary . Fortunately, Mr. Matsuura Cleverer than his pious concubines, he got the message right away. He ended the visit as soon as he could and, the next day, he returned with a new entourage of women, also with fine features and beautiful kimonos, but instead of praying the rosary they dedicated themselves to dancing and singing to the comfort of the visitors. . And, for a modest price, they also provided other more intimate services. Deep down, Saris and Matsuura spoke the same language .
Despite small cultural misunderstandings like this, in the end, Saris' trip ended up bearing the expected fruits. William Adams's good contacts earned her an audience with the shogun, from whom she obtained permission to establish a trading post. The East India Company at last it would have its branch in Japan. Saris left a subordinate in charge and triumphantly returned to London, happier than Easter. Among the merchandise he brought with him were silks and rich presents for King James I , but the most precious loot went directly to his personal collection. It was a voluminous shipment of prints and picture books of a style that, in those days, could only be seen in the East. They were erotic paintings, the earliest examples of ukiyoe prints. , which were already becoming popular in Tokugawa Japan.
Japanese erotic print from the early Edo era
Enchanted with his exotic treasure, as soon as he arrived in England he dedicated himself to showing the drawings to half of London. But unfortunately, not everyone shared his vision of art. Saris's enthusiasm collided head-on with the puritanical minds of the bigwigs of the Company of the Indies, who did not see favorably that an employee of theirs was handing out stamps of naked ladies out there. Saris's collection ended up at the stake, much to the chagrin of the poor captain. And there, in the purifying flames of the English inquisition, ended what was probably the first foray of the Japanese publishing industry into the Western market. Centuries later, the Japanese would return to the fray with their racy drawings, and this time they would find a much more receptive audience. But we already see that Westerners' fascination with Japanese pornography is quite old. And if not, ask good old John Saris.
Collaboration of R. Ibarzabal
Source:Samurai William:The Englishman who opened Japan – Giles Milton