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by Jacqueline Morrissey
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In April, Jacqueline Morrissey and her husband
made the journey from Ireland to visit their son
who works as an assistant language teacher in Matsue.
Yakumo Koizumi dominated our visit to Matsue. How
could two visiting Dubliners fail to be interested
in an Irishman who became a naturalised Japanese
citizen and an honoured figure in Japanese literary
circles? Koizumi, or Lafcadio Hearn, as he was originally
named, wrote extensively about Japanese life in the
later 19th century from the rare perspective of a
westerner who had adopted a Japanese lifestyle, married
a Japanese woman, and become accepted into Japanese
life. His house in Matsue stands preserved in his
honour; a museum about him is located nearby. The
exhibition gives a touching insight into his life
and work. To me, it offered a picture of a lonely
traveler who found some sort of peace and happiness
in Japan. The museum was singled out by Irish President
Mary Robinson for a visit some years ago, and is
clearly an essential stop for any Irish person, but
it holds an appeal beyond nationalist sentiment,
and would interest any westerner in Japan.
Moving away from Hearn (although not too far, as
it was one of his favourite haunts), Matsue Castle
drew us from the strong afternoon sunlight into its
cool, dim interior. One of 12 remaining castles in
Japan, its black facade exudes a certain brooding
menace, while inside its six levels are open to exploration,
and contain traditional armour and artefacts, pictures
and history. The view is striking; the castle must
have dominated in the days when Matsue was still
a small rural town. Now, as then, the castle’s grounds
offered a restful break from the toils of life, such
as, in our case, sightseeing.
Jacqueline and her husband at Heian Jingu Shrine in Kyoto |
Matsue has a lot to offer the visitor, despite, or
perhaps because of, its remote location and small
size. Where the thought of Tokyo traffic struck terror
into our souls, the peacefulness of Matsue gave us
time to observe and reflect on Japanese life as it
passed us by, mostly on bikes. The bicycle culture
really appealed to us, but we doubted that Dubliners
would behave as politely if permitted to cycle on
Irish pavements, Japanese style.
What else did we notice? The schoolchildren: everywhere,
in their uniforms and cycle helmets, colour-coded
according to school. The boys’ uniform in particular
stood out, its high collar, gilt buttons, and slightly
military air making even the most unprepossessing
adolescent look stylish. Only from our perspective,
of course. They, like school kids everywhere, probably
hate it.
We could not fail to notice that our curiosity about
the locals was reflected in a certain curiosity about
us. It was never a rude, hostile or intrusive interest,
though. Everywhere we went in Matsue, as in Kyoto
and Osaka, we were met with politeness and were freely
offered advice and guidance as we made our way around.
A particular thanks here for the hospitality of Bonn
and Shoko Koizumi, whose kindness and good company
made Matsue the highlight of our trip.
At one point, we moved away from Matsue to Hiroshima,
but the shadow of Lafcadio Hearn followed us. Sitting
in the Peace Park we were approached by an elderly
man who wished to practice his English. The opportunity
to talk to a local pleased us greatly. We were staying
in Matsue, we told him, visiting our son. “Oh, Matsue,”
he said, “did you know there was an Irish writer…?”
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