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One day, I came across my neighbor in a park and had a chance to talk with him.

"I envy you. You are so together with your wife," I said.

"Oh, no, not really. . . ." My neighbor stuttered and then confessed, "I have to reassure my wife every day by saying 'I love you.' It is the contract between us. I also have to phone her once in a while from my office. Otherwise she grumbles when I come home, and things get extremely hard for me."

He continued, "In fact, I want to divorce her. I have con­sulted a lawyer, but there seems to be no way out."

I was so astonished by his words that I could not find anything to say. I felt like I had been hit hard on the head. This seemed a perfect example of the husband-and-wife relationship in a contract society. As long as the relationship stays healthy, the contract is the solid source of all happiness, but once the relation­ship goes sour, the contract can be the source of all troubles. In Japan, there is no particular contract between husband and wife. The social tradition is the rule. They act on the tradition and act as freely as the tradition permits. It is almost impossible for any Japanese man to kiss a woman whom he no longer loves and even wants to divorce. There seem to be only two seasons, summer and winter, in the contract society, but all four seasons—spring, summer, au­tumn, and winter—exist in the emotionally charged Japanese society, where self-expression is so delicate and controlled.

Not Sexy but Amorous

Japanese women are not sexy in the manner of women in the West, because the tradition of wearing kimono and obi (wide belt) and sitting upright on the mat floor has shaped their physical proportions differently. However, they have retained a charm by being amorous. Being sexy and being amorous are both sexual appeals, but the two differ greatly. Being sexy is a direct expression of the flesh and body, and this kind of charm usually declines with age. Amorousness, on the other hand, goes beyond the practical. It is a sexual appeal that includes tender­hearted charm. A woman therefore can be amorous at any age, as long as she keeps up her appearance ama mingles her physical attractiveness with a charming personality. Amorousness can develop into eroticism—not in the sense of indecency but in the sense of eros, or pleasure-directed self-expression (from Eros, the Greek God of Love).

During World War II, in a South Sea island occupied by the Japanese forces, the army ordered the native women, who were wearing nothing but a piece of cloth around their waists, to dress more decorously in order to upgrade the public morality. To great surprise, the men began to complain that the women, wearing dresses and showing their legs now and then when the hems turned up gracefully as they walked, were too stimulating to them. The nude women were more natural on the island and therefore less tempting for the men. This suggests that amorousness—the hint of physicality—is a more effective and lasting sexual appeal than nudity.

Iki In the case of Japanese women, lovely bare feet clad in red-thonged black-lacquered clogs peeking out from a kimono are more appealing and charming than the bare shoulders of those wearing open summer dresses. This indefinable quality of being amorous is called iki and is considered a refined degree of charm in Japan. The first requirement for iki, according to Anatomy of Iki by Shuzo Kuki, is coquetry, and the second requirement is "spirit, or temperament." If the meaning of iki were simply "sensuality" or "amorous flirtation," many Western words would suffice to describe it. But the fact that there is no Western equivalent suggests that iki, as Shuzo Kuki states, is a psycho­logical phenomenon alien to Western culture. Iki is a combina­tion of amorous flirtation and controlled self-expression, mani­fested outward as a single activity. It is the irrepressible eros of the self which runs through the quality of sexual appeal.

The figure of a Japanese woman walking with swaying steps in her casual kimono after her bath is iki. Likewise, the figure of a Western woman in her evening dress with her upper breasts exposed is erotic and amorous. Such exposure of a woman's physical self represents a sort of iki, the sensual liberality. Yet something is missing to be true iki, Mr. Kuki cites "resignation" as the third requirement for iki, but I would not use this term. Rather, I would call it refinement—a chic and tasteful spirit emanating from an erotic attitude. Examples are the Japanese woman cited above, fresh from her bath, and the geisha entertaining at a banquet. They offer fine testimony to this quality. The geisha's collar is tilted just a bit to the back—a glimpse of her neck is the only hint of flesh under the kimono. This is quite different from the open neckline or bare back of the modern Western woman in her evening dress. The geisha's modest exposure of eros represents her controlled self inside. Though the eros is expressed, it is an extremely refined and controlled erotic attitude.

The critical point is that the geisha reveals her eros only to the extent that her self-control and natural moderation command her—"I will show just this much of my flesh, and nothing more!" The difference between the frank sexuality of a modern woman and the faint suggestion of sensuality of a classic woman is the difference between self-assertion and self-control. A wink is a bit too strong to be iki; a sidelong glance could be. Refined amorous­ness can be depicted only in such a self-controlled manner. Mr. Kuki's "resignation" perhaps refers to this self-control, which recognizes the futility of the open eros.

Iki, then, is a unique combination of amorousness, spirit, and self-control. Obviously, this is a very difficult set of qualities to cultivate and sustain. Self-control, the third component of iki, is especially difficult for the maturing woman to learn. Only those who dedicate themselves entirely to refinement can em­body iki successfully.

Here it might be interesting to discuss another Japanese word, nama-iki (sauciness or insolence; literally, "raw iki"). Nama-iki is the vain attempt to exhibit iki by someone who just does not have it. Such a person is confident of her (or his) own appeal but lacks recognition of that quality by society. Lack of social recognition is what turns would-be iki into nama-iki. It is iki lacking the all-important quality of self-control. Nama-iki is much closer to iki's antonym, yabo (rusticity, uncouthness), than it is to iki itself. In-Japan there is a saying, "The rustic gets polished into a sophisticate." In other words, the person who is nama-iki gains refinement by coming in contact with society, eventually gaining its recognition and approval and thereby becoming iki.

There is another Japanese saying, "If you speak up, you're considered nama-iki (insolent); if you keep silent, you're consid­ered ignorant." How accurately this describes the dilemma of the modern Japanese businessman in the hierarchical society. Mere silence no longer suffices as a response to the remarks of one's superior. The businessman is expected to be dynamic as well as reserved, and to say what needs to be said, but in the proper way. Refining the self to be iki is the key to a successful married life. Expressing anything timely in the proper amount is true iki, and it requires the unmitigated efforts of a married couple to attain.