WOMEN’S MAGAZINES AND THE DEMOCRATIZATION OF PRINT AND READING CULTURE IN INTERWAR JAPAN by Shiho Maeshima A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY in The Faculty of Graduate and Postdoctoral Studies (Asian Studies) THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA (Vancouver) August 2016 © Shiho Maeshima, 2016 ii Abstract This dissertation reconsiders the significance of a periodical genre hitherto marginalized in academia, namely, the Japanese mass-market women’s magazine, in the history of print/reading culture in modern Japan. The study also aims to investigate the interrelations among magazine genres, gender categories, and the formation of cultural hierarchy. Analysis of diverse periodicals from the late 19th century to the 1930s, their contemporary commentaries and various surveys reveals that, around the turn of the 20th century, magazine genres became increasingly gendered in terms of their formats, editing styles, content, and readership: magazines for adults evolved into either “serious” general magazines for men concerning “public” matters or “vulgar” women’s magazines on “light” issues related to the “domestic” sphere. It was the latter magazine genre that led to the democratization of print/reading culture in interwar Japan. Inclusion of various article genres written in highly colloquial styles, extensive use of visuals, stress on entertainment and people’s private lives, and increasing collaboration with other industries, were to become common practices among Japanese periodicals after WWII. The new editing style also contributed to the spread of a new reading style in Japan. With its accessible editorial and promotional styles, the interwar mass-market women’s magazine attracted readers from a wide range of ages and social classes, including men, and functioned as the “transfeminized” entertaining home magazine. Moreover, other periodicals, including the more “serious” types, also began adopting some of the strategies developed in the popular women’s magazine, a periodical genre that had formerly been regarded as “deviant.” Arguably, the subversive impact the mass-market women’s magazine had on the publishing world triggered severe criticism. iii Thanks to its highly developed readers’ involvement and “transparent” mode of expression, the interwar popular women’s magazine presented a seemingly democratic and egalitarian magazine community. Closer examination of its articles, however, reveals unequal relationships between its readers and editors as well as among the readers, which offers valuable insight regarding its relation with discursive formation of diverse modern discourses and global trends in publishing. iv Preface A part of earlier versions of Chapter One (Introduction) and Chapter Two has been published. Shiho Maeshima, "Chapter One: New Journalism in Interwar Japan." In Anthony Rausch, ed. Japanese Journalism and the Japanese News Paper: A Supplemental Reader, Amherst, NY: Teneo Press, 2014 (December), 3–29. A part of earlier versions of Chapter Three and Chapter Four has been published as “Rethinking Women’s Magazines: The Impact of Mass-Market Women’s Magazines on Reading Culture in Interwar Japan.” Windows on Comparative Literature. No. 4-5, Tokyo: 2009 (April), 50–65. A part of an earlier version of Chapter Five has been published as “Melodramatized Experiences: Textual Appeal of the Confessional Story in Interwar Japanese Popular Periodicals and Its Socio-Historical Implications.” Windows on Comparative Literature No. 6-7. Tokyo: 2011 (April), 9–17. A part of an earlier version of Chapter Six (Conclusion) has been published as “Print Culture and Gender: Toward a Comparative Study of Modern Print Media.” In Sung-Won, Cho, ed. Expanding the Frontiers of Comparative Literature Vol. 2: Toward an Age of Tolerance. Seoul: Chung-Ang University Press, 2013, 354–363. All of the above published studies are original, independent work by the author, Shiho Maeshima. While earlier versions of several pages included in this dissertation have already been published as stated above, the rest is original, unpublished, independent work by the author, Shiho Maeshima. v Table of Contents Abstract ………………………………………………………………………………………………… ii Preface …………………………………………………………………………………………………. iv Table of Contents ……………………………….………………………………………………………. v List of Figures ………………………….…………………………………………………………... viii Acknowledgements ……………………….…………………………………………………………... ix Dedication …………………………………………………………………………………………….. xi Chapter 1: Introduction ………………………………………………………………………………... 1 The Interwar Mass-Market Women’s Magazine as Symbol of a New Print/Reading Culture……...…...…1 Genealogy of Studies on Interwar Mass-Market Women’s Magazines in Japan …….………..…...…….. 7 Studies in Publishing History: Marginalization of Women’s Magazines ……..………...…….……… 7 Studies in Women’s History: Referential Meaning and Repressive Theories of Mass Culture …..........10 A Holistic or Multidimensional Approach and Prospects for Further Studies …...…..…………….... 16 A Brief Overview of Each Chapter …………...…………………………….………………………... 21 Notes on the Terms “Democratic” and “Interwar”…...…………………………………………….24 Chapter 2: Beyond “Magazines for Women”: The Emergence of Mass-Market Women’s Magazines as Popular Magazines for Both Sexes and their Historical Contexts ………….…………. 30 Development of the Magazine in Modern Japan ……………………….……………...……………... 31 Industrialization of Magazine Publishing …………………….…...……….……………………… 31 Nation-Wide Systematization of Publication, Distribution, and Advertising ……...…….………….. 33 Gender- and Age-Based Differentiation of Magazine Genres …...……………………….………... 37 “Feminization” of the Women’s Magazine …...………………………………………….……….. 40 Emergence of the Mass-Market Women’s Magazine and its Increasing Popularity ……...……………. 43 Increasing Circulation before Kingu …...…..…………………..........……………………………... 43 Increasing Circulation after Kingu …...…………..……………………………………………….. 46 Expansion of Readership of Women’s Magazines among Women ……..……....………………….. 47 Expansion of Readership of Women’s Magazines among Men …...……..…….……………….….. 50 The Socio-Cultural Contexts ……………………...………………………………….……………… 53 Spread of Literacy ………...……………………………………..………………………………. 53 Limited Budget for Entertainment ………………...………………………...……………………. 54 Changing Lifestyle and the Craze for “Culture” …..……….…………...…………………………. 55 Craving Information Concerning the “Modern Family” and the “Home” ….....…...…….………… 58 The Media and the Spread of the Ideal of the “Modern Home Life” …...…….......………………… 63 Beyond the “Women’s Magazine”: Transfeminization of the Women’s Magazine …...………………... 65 vi Chapter 3: Revolution in Publication: Changes Introduced by Interwar Mass-Market Women’s Magazines to Japanese Print / Reading Culture …………………………………………………….. 69 Developments in Formats and Modes of Expression …....…..……………...…………………………. 69 High Receptivity to New Systems and Technologies ….…….….......………………..…………….. 69 Orality, New Article Genres, and an Emphasis on Everyday Life .……...……….…………………. 72 Intense Visualization ………………………………………………………..……...…………….. 75 Emphasis on Entertainment and the Relative Retreat of the Moralistic Tone ………...…….………. 80 Practical Articles and Human Interest Stories as Entertainment ……………………...…….……… 84 Developments in Promotion ……..…………………………………...……...……….……………… 87 Promoting Reader Participation: Features of Reader Submissions and Media Events ……......……... 87 Commercialization: Advertisements, Special Gifts, and Mail Ordering ……………………......…... 91 Media Mixing …………………………………………………………………………….……... 94 The Mass-Market Women’s Magazine as New Media …………....………………………………….. 96 The Typical Formats of the Interwar Mass-Market Women’s Magazine …………..………………. 96 Differences from “General Magazines” and “Cultured” Women’s Magazines …….…………..……98 Differences from Other Popular Magazines and Pictorial Magazines ………………….....………..100 Differences from Kingu …………………………………………………………………...…..... 102 The Mass-Market Women’s Magazine: A New Media ………….…………….…………………….. 105 Chapter 4: Rethinking Interwar Japanese Mass-Market Women’s Magazines: The Democratization of Print/Reading Culture and Gender Categories ……………………. 108 Influences on Reading Habits ……………………..…..……………………………………………. 108 A New Media Introducing a New Mode of Reading …….…………….…………………………108 Multiplex Reading Habits …..…………………………………………..…………………….….111 Democratization of Print Culture ……………..…………………………………………………….. 113 In “Light” Periodicals …………………………….………………....………………………....... 113 In “Serious” Periodicals ……………………….…….………………………………...………... 114 “Home Section” in the Newspaper …………………..……...…………………………………... 117 The Controversies over Interwar Mass-Market Women’s Magazines …………….………...………... 120 Criticism of the Interwar Mass-Market Women’s Magazine ……..……………………………..... 120 Exclusive Condemnation of the Mass-Market Women’s Magazines ………..………...………….. 122 Labeling and Belittling New Strategies as “Feminine” ……………………...………………….... 124 Differentiation and Classification of Print/Reading Culture …………….………………………...….. 126 Maintaining a Hierarchy of Print Culture …………………..………………………………...….. 126 Democratization of Print Culture and Gender ………………………...……………………...…... 131 Maintaining a Hierarchy of Reading Culture ……………..………….………………………...… 133 vii Reader Trouble: Maintaining a Hierarchy of Readers …...…...…………………………………... 136 New Print/Reading Culture Rooted in Everyday Life ……………….………………...…………….. 141 Attempts to Overcome the Rigid Hierarchy of Print/Reading Culture ……………...…..………… 141 Establishment of a New Print/Reading Culture …………………………………...…..…………. 144 Chapter 5: Staged Egalitarianism: “Transparent” Writing System and the Reader’s Involvement in the Magazine Community ………………………………………………………………………. 147 An Accessible Writing Style and the Reader’s Participation in the Magazine Community …….…...…. 148 Introduction of Colloquial Writing Styles into the Magazine World ………………...……...……... 148 Writing Styles and Gender ……...………….……………………………………...…………….. 150 Early Reader Contributions: Contests, Q and As, and Reader Letters ……...……...……………… 154 Reader Contributions as Full Articles ……………………………………...……...……………... 158 Increasing Visibility of the Reader in the Magazine Community: Fewer Bylined Articles by Professionals .…...………...………………………………………………………………….. 160 Intimate Personal Address: A New Editorial Policy …………………………….………………...…. 164 Friendly Tone ……………………………………………………….………………………... 164 Intimate Relationship between Readers, Editors, and Professional Writers ……….…………….. 169 Reader Involvement in Magazine Making …………………………………..………………… 172 A New Reader-Oriented Editorial Policy ……………………………….……………………... 175 Formation of an Intimate, Egalitarian Community ………….…………....………………………….. 177 Expansion of Readers’ Backgrounds ………………...…….……………………………………. 177 Expansion of Themes ………………………………...…………………..…………………….. 181 Egalitarian Community among Japanese Language Users …...………………….………………. 187 Sympathy among Readers …………………………...………………………..……….………... 190 Beyond the Magazine Pages: Open Charity Events …...…………………..……………………... 193 Limits of an Intimate, Egalitarian Utopia ……...…….……………………………………………… 197 Disempowerment of the Reader …………...…………………..………………………………... 197 Discrepancies among Contributors ………...……………………..……………………………... 200 Staging the Intimate, Egalitarian Utopian Empire …...….………….…………………………….. 203 Chapter 6: Conclusion …………………………………………….……………………………….… 205 Works Cited …………………………….………….…………………………….…………………... 213 Periodicals ………………………………….…………...….……………………………………… 213 Japanese Language Sources ……………………………...….……………………………………... 214 English Language Sources ………………………………...……….………………………………. 241 viii List of Figures Figure 1. Examples of Front Pages………………….……….….…………….…………….……77 Figure 2. Example of a Pictorial Page………………………..……………………………….…. 79 Figure 3. Example of a Serialized Novel Page…….......…………………………………… 83 ix Acknowledgements First of all, I would like to express my sincere gratitude to my supervisor Professor Sharalyn Orbaugh for her continuous support during my long Ph.D. journey. Her inspiring graduate seminar revived my academic interest in popular culture and mass media, which was the beginning of this research project. Without her encouragement and professional guidance, I could not have completed this dissertation. In addition to my supervisor, I am greatly indebted to my supervisory committee, Dr. Joshua S. Mostow and Dr. Christina Yi, for their support of my study. Dr. Mostow widened my intellectual horizons since the beginning of my study at UBC, by showing me how to academically approach various cultural artifacts, activities, and phenomena beyond conventional binary demarcations. Dr. Yi’s informative comments and suggestions gave me both a chance to deepen my thoughts regarding the current dissertation project, and much inspiration for future research projects. My sincere gratitude also goes to my dissertation examiners, Dr. David Edgington, Dr. Christina Laffin, and Dr. Sarah Frederick. Their penetrating questions and insightful suggestions made me reconsider my preconceived or naturalized assumptions anew. I extend my heartfelt thanks to my comprehensive exam committee, Dr. Hyung-Gu Lynn and Dr. Ross King. Academic conversations with them at the earlier stage of my Ph.D. study provided a basis for this dissertation: from them, I have learned the importance of careful conceptualization and the necessity to consider modern Japanese cultural history from wider perspectives. Although I could not fully incorporate in this dissertation my responses to all of their questions or the issues about which I received inspiration from them, I am sure that I will to continue to engage with these issues throughout the rest of my academic life. My thanks also go to my wonderful friends with whom I shared my student life in Vancouver. Your friendship and academic rivalry were invaluable to my life and studies at UBC. Without chats with you over coffee or dim sum, sometimes academically and other times personally, both my student life and research would have been quite monotonous. Above all, Maiko Behr, Eliko Kosaka, Guy Beauregard, x Kim Kyong-hui, and Yuki Ohsawa, thank you very much for helping me to deepen my thoughts and give them shape in the form of this dissertation. Not least of all, I would like to thank my family: my father and sisters in Saitama, Japan, and my mother in heaven. There are no words to express how much I appreciate your warm support and encouragement for my graduate study at UBC. The memorable meals cooked with vegetables from the family garden and the warm conversations always kept me nourished both in mind and spirit. Finally, my special thanks to my grandmother for her boundless love and cheer. Her stories about her childhood in a small village in Niigata and her subsequent life in interwar Tokyo were the fountainhead of my academic inspiration and were indispensable for this dissertation. xi Dedication To my mother, Masako Maeshima (1946–2005) 1 Chapter 1: Introduction Her talk of novels seemed to have little to do with “literature” in the everyday sense of the word. The only friendly ties she had with the people of this village had come from exchanging women’s magazines, and afterwards she had gone on with her reading by herself. She was quite indiscriminate and had little understanding of literature, and she borrowed even the novels and magazines she found lying in the guests’ rooms at the inn. Not a few of the new novelists whose names came to her meant nothing to Shimamura. Her manner was as though she were talking of a distant foreign literature. There was something lonely, something sad in it, something that rather suggested a beggar who has lost all desire. It occurred to Shimamura that his own distant fantasy on the occidental ballet, built up from words and photographs in foreign books, was not in its way dissimilar. (Kawabata Yasunari, Yukiguni, 42)1 The Interwar Mass-Market Women’s Magazine as Symbol of a New Print/Reading Culture The above is a scene from Yukiguni (Snow Country) by Nobel Prize–winning novelist, Kawabata Yasunari (1899–1972), in which the protagonist, Shimamura, a “wealthy sophisticate” from Tokyo, notices for the first time the reading habits of Komako, a newly initiated geisha in a small village in the countryside. The scene is often quoted as a symbolic episode attesting to the vogue of popular novels among female readers; it also tells us more about print/reading culture of the time in general. First, it epitomizes the emergence of an “ordinary reading woman”; reading is 1 Most sections of this novel were initially published in various magazines from 1935 to 1937. In 1937, Kawabata integrated those sections with an additional chapter and published them in book form. Resuming work on the novel once again in 1940, Kawabata wrote several more new chapters and continuously revised the last several sections until 1947. The final version was finally published as a book in 1948 and its first English translation by Edward G. Seidensticker appeared in 1956, then was later reprinted in 1996. The cited part is taken from the sections initially published in the late 1930s. 2 no longer a privileged activity limited to a small group of elite women in the city, to the extent that even people in country villages enjoy novels and magazines. The quoted passage also suggests the diversity of reading practices of the time. Shimamura clearly notices differences between Komako’s reading style and his own. His observation that she is indiscriminate in selecting what to read implies that he himself—or at least an ideal reader, according to his standard—is and should be more cautious when it comes to reading materials. He also recognizes that Komako’s reading habits differ from those of the village folk. It seems that people in the village read magazines mainly so that they can talk with others about what they have read. In other words, they use reading as a tool of communication. Magazines were so popular that they even functioned as a communication tool in the village. While she acknowledges such value in reading, Komako also reads for her own pleasure as well. Though it is not clear exactly what motivates her to take notes on characters and narrative lines, at least she understands the pleasure of solitary reading. Moreover, Shimamura’s inner utterance reveals a hint of cynicism toward the popular novels and women’s magazines that Komako reads. Obviously, there seems to him to be a hierarchy among reading materials, even though later he self-mockingly analyzes his own reading habits as well. As will be shown in the following chapters of this dissertation, the phenomena suggested in this quoted passage were not altogether unrelated to the actual state of print/reading culture in the interwar period2 in which the novel was set. In fact, something more than what is suggested there was going on behind the scenes at the time. Indeed, the women’s magazine received close attention from contemporary critics and the media in 1920s–30s Japan. 3 Arguably, the number of 2 While the term “interwar period” usually refers to the period between the end of the First World War (November 1918) and the beginning of the Second World War (September 1939), I will use it here to refer to the period between the First World War (1918) and the start of the Second Sino-Japanese War (1937), for reasons that will be explained at the end of this chapter. 3 Many contemporary critical articles on the popularity of women’s magazines, including those referred to in a previous paper (Maeshima 2009a), mentioned the vogue of the confessional story. 3 controversies over women’s magazines even exceeded that of criticisms of the nation’s first million copy–selling magazine, Kingu (King, founded in 19244), whose importance in modern Japanese publishing history is pointed out by media history scholar Satō Takumi (2002). Interestingly, these arguments reveal that the periodicals in dispute were quite different from what one would imagine as the “Japanese interwar women’s magazine”—a “minor” periodical genre filled with practical articles concerning cooking, sewing, child-raising, tantalizing advertisements, and moral stories specifically dedicated to middle-class women. First, most contemporary commentaries refer to the enormous popularity of this magazine genre. Compared with major newspapers, the two largest of which attained circulations of more than one million in 1924, the popularity of women’s magazines in Japan in the 1930s was described by media critic Nii Itaru (1931) as follows: Most women’s magazines in today’s Japan . . . enjoy an extraordinary level of circulation, which is said not only to exceed those of all other kinds of magazines, but also to surpass those of withering newspapers. (267) Which is to say that women’s magazines dominated Japanese print media in the interwar period. Besides Nii, numerous other contemporary critics testified to the tremendous permeation of the women’s magazine throughout society.5 While the actual circulation data of many periodicals cannot be stated with certainty up until the late 1920s due to lack of accurate data, former magazine editor Hashimoto Motomu (1964) 4 Its first January 1925 issue was published in December 1924. 5 In addition to the below-cited texts, there are countless articles on women’s magazines appearing in moralistic, or social-reformist periodicals, such as Fujin shinpō (Ladiess’ Courier), Fujo shinbun (Newspaper for Ladies and Girls), and Fujin undō (Ladies’ Movement). For more on such articles, see Takahashi Tomiko (143–152). 4 writes, in his book on a history of publishing and distribution industries in modern Japan, that the three top-selling magazines at the time were women’s magazines, each with double the circulation of Chūō kōron, a well-regarded intellectual magazine that was launched in 1887. Annual circulation surveys from a major subscription agent, Tōkyōdō, show that women’s magazines were the most popular magazine genre from 1929 to 1934, and even after that they sold as much as other popular magazines.6 These statistics indicate that the popularity of women’s magazines continued well into the 1930s, even after Kōdansha7 launched the “national magazine” Kingu (King) in 1924. In the case of the most popular women’s magazine, Shufu no tomo (Housewife’s Friend), every issue since 1934 has sold more than one million copies.8 It is thus clear that the women’s magazine was one of the most popular periodical genres nation-wide in interwar Japan. Second, sometimes overtly and other times covertly, the discourses on women’s magazines centered mainly on the issue of the democratic changes in print culture,9 even when, as was often the case, their original objectives were to criticize the vulgarity and sensationalism of the themes covered by women’s magazines.10 In his article of June 24, 1933, appearing in the Tōkyō Asahi Shinbun (Tokyo Asahi News), Marxist critic Aono Suekichi pointed out: 6 Tōkyōdō Tōkeibu (1935): For example, in 1934, the annual circulation of each magazine genre in descending order was as follows: women’s magazines 19,750,000; popular entertainment magazines 18,740,000; boys’/girls’ magazines 9,740,000; children’s magazines 7,480,000; magazines concerning politics, economics, arts, or sciences 4,270,000; youth magazines 2,180,000. 7 More accurately, “Dai Nihon Yūbenkai Kōdansha” at the time. 8 R. Kimura 1992. 9 In this study, I use the words “democratic” and “democratization” in a metaphorical sense rather than their political sense, as I will explain more at the end of this chapter. 10 The following present the case of women’s magazines as symbolic of the state of the contemporary publishing world particularly clearly: Takashima 1922, 55; Yamakawa 1922, 158; Akita 1927, 70; Chiba et al. 1928, 104–106; Nii 1930, 105–107; 1931, 272 and 277; Kimura Ki 1933/1930, 175–176 and 193–196; Aono 1933 (a), 9; Ōya 1959/1929, 189–190; 1959/1934, 192–195; 1935-8/1959, 197 and 203–204; 1935/1959, 197 and 203–204; 1959/1935, 239–252; and Tosaka 1937, 342–349. For details concerning the heated criticism of the mass-market women’s magazines in interwar Japan, see Chapter Four of this dissertation. 5 Generally speaking, in terms of capitalistic production, no sector made as dramatic progress as the women’s magazine did. One could say that magazine culture was led by this very women’s magazine to an extraordinary stage. … [Recently,] their [=women’s magazines’] thorough commercialism, and its accompanying sensational stimulation, entertaining and ‘practical’ characteristics, have come to have the power to lead magazine culture, in a sense. (Aono 1933a, 9) Aono’s view of women’s magazines was shared by a leading journalist of the time, Ōya Sōichi. According to Ōya, women’s magazines brought about an “industrial revolution” in Japanese publishing culture. In contrast to the former reading public, which he saw as an “advanced, civilized country” of intelligentsia, he expressed this new phenomenon as “the discovery of a cultural colony” of female readers in the new middle class. This new reading public, he explained, appeared after WWI thanks to the spread of education, growing interest in the cultural matters, an increasing margin for money, and expanded needs for mass-market print media.11 Again, many other contemporaneous critics made similar observations.12 Thus, the increasing number of contemporary comments on interwar women’s magazines suggests that their editorial as well as promotional influence on print and reading culture in general were also notable. Another observation prevalent among contemporary debates on magazine culture of the time, but striking to today’s readers, is that women’s magazines had male readers, which is entirely 11 Ōya 1959/1934, 191–194. Likewise, in similarly derogative, yet telling terms, Ōya also referred elsewhere to mass-market women’s magazines and popular magazines as “exportation for the colonies,” and to women’s magazines as the “industrial revolution” in the Japanese literary arena (1935/1959, 247–248, 255). 12 See also Takashima 1922, 55; Yamakawa 1922, 158; Akita 1927, 70; Chiba et al. 1928, 104 and 106; Nii 1930, 105–107; 1931, 272, 277; Kimura Ki 1930/1933, 175–176 and 193–196; Aono 1933, 9; Ōya 1929/1959, 190–197; 1935/1959, 203–204; 1935, 5–22; Tosaka 1937, 342–349. 6 missed in the passage quoted in the epigraph as well as in most of today’s studies on interwar Japanese print media. While the discussions and commentaries on women’s magazines used the term “fujin-zasshi” (women’s magazines), many of them took it for granted that these so-called “women’s magazines” were read not only by women, but also by men. 13 For instance, an investigation conducted in 1929 by the Bureau of Police and Public Security at the Ministry of Home Affairs reported as follows: “Current women’s magazines are not reading only for women; rather, as mentioned above, they are read by men as well.”14 As will be detailed in the following chapters, statistical data also underlie the existence of male readers of women’s magazines in the interwar period. The sheer volume and intensity of criticism against interwar mass-market women’s magazines in Japan invites us to further consider the distinctiveness of the democratization of print culture in Japan in comparison with similar coeval developments in other countries. Astonished by their popularity, some critics even stated that the overwhelming success of women’s magazines was quite rare in the world.15 It seems to me that there are few cases in foreign countries in which women’s magazines enjoy such great commercial success as they do in Japan (Hirabayashi 1927, 70). It is quite rare, even in the West, for there to be as many women’s magazines as in our country 13 See Komaki 1927, 68; Chiba et al. 1928, 99, 100, 109 and 120; Hiratsuka 1928, 83; Nakamura Aug. 1938, 7; Hirano 1930, 3; Nii 1931, 273; Kimura Ki 1930/1933, 176 and 193–196; Sugiyama 1934/1935, 119–120; Tosaka 1937, 342–348. 14 Naimushō Kkeihokyoku 1929, 10–23. 15 In the cited articles, while Ichikawa clearly compared Japanese cases to “Euro-America/the West” (ōbei), Hirabayashi mentioned only “other countries.” Considering Hirabayashi’s overall argument, however, he also seems to be referring to “the West” with the words “other countries.” Equating “the world” or “other countries” with “the West” or “Euro-America” was a common practice among intellectuals of the day in Japan, and is still so in everyday usage even today. 7 (Ichikawa 1928, 85). Many questions arise. Why was this particular magazine genre so popular in interwar Japan? Why did it manage to attract such a wide range of readers, including men? What did its popularity and the heated controversies over it suggest in the context of print and reading culture in and outside of Japan? Clearly, it is necessary to reconsider the “women’s magazine” as a genre in and of itself. What was the “women’s magazine” in interwar Japan in the first place? Genealogy of Studies on Interwar Mass-Market Women’s Magazines in Japan Interestingly, however, scholars have not paid serious attention to Japanese mass-market women’s magazines of the 1920s and 1930s until recently and comprehensive analysis is still awaited. In the following section of the Introduction, I will present a broad overview and reexamination of earlier discussions and studies on these women’s magazines, both in Japanese- and English-language academia. By reconsidering these earlier studies and referring to recent developments in the fields of mass communication and popular culture, I will clarify the issues to be further addressed in this dissertation. This will be followed by a brief explanation of each chapter. Studies in Publishing History: Marginalization of Women’s Magazines Mass-market women’s magazines in pre–World War II Japan, most of which were launched in the 1910s and gained wide popularity in the early 1920s, have been studied mainly in two fields in Japanese academia since the end of WWII until around the 1990s: namely, the history of print culture and women’s history. Many studies in the first area have mentioned women’s magazines only in passing, as one example of the popularization of print culture, even though not a few of them have acknowledged the enormous popularity of this particular magazine genre. In 8 contrast, when these historical studies explain popularization or democratization of periodicals, most of them have devoted many pages—indeed, often a whole chapter—to Kōdansha, a company known for its publication of so-called “goraku zasshi” (entertaining magazines), the genre that always competed in circulation with the women’s magazine in the 1920s and 1930s.16 Yet, even considering the impressive presence of various Kōdansha magazines, it is puzzling that these studies allot only a few to several pages to the women’s magazine, a genre equally as powerful and popular as Kōdansha’s entertainment magazines were at the time. One of the factors that must have affected this unbalanced treatment of these two equally popular magazine genres derives from the common practice among historical accounts of Japanese publishing to periodize history according to the one representative company that published the most magazines in the period. Thus, the few decades straddling the end of the nineteenth century were known as the “Hakubunkan Era,” and the next few decades the “Jitsugyō no Nihonsha Era,” followed by the “Kōdansha Era.” In the case of mass-market women’s magazines in the interwar period, however, each publishing company, with the exception of Kōdansha, focused on a single women’s magazine title. This attests to the incredible popularity of this magazine genre, which provided publishers with enough profit from a single title that they did not need to rely on other kinds of publications. Yet, at the same time, it contributed to the marginalization of the women’s magazine in historical studies, which based their research on the “rise and fall” of large publishers known for producing a variety of different kinds of publications. Biased historical sources would have also contributed to this imbalanced historiography. Many large publishers such as Chūō Kōronsha and Kōdansha issued their own company histories, 16 Among such studies, the best known are Okano 1957, Ishikawa S. 1959, Ogawa 1962, Hashimoto 1964, and Shimizu and Kobayashi 1979. Various publishing company histories also fall under this category. 9 which frequently served as the basis for many publishing histories. On the other hand, almost none of the companies that specialized in mass-market women’s magazines in the interwar period—with the exception of Shufu no Tomosha—survived after WWII, either due to intense competition from rival women’s magazines, or because of their forced consolidation by the authorities during the war. As a result, most historical studies of interwar Japanese popular magazines were based solely on sources that were published and/or written by current or former employees of Kōdansha, the publisher of numerous interwar mass-market magazines including Kingu and a women’s monthly, Fujin kurabu (Women’s Club).17 It is no wonder that publication histories of popular magazines during the interwar period were inclined in favor of Kingu and Kōdansha. Perhaps the most fundamental problem underlying the marginalization of the popular women’s magazine in the historiography of publication derives from its basic tendency to demean or depreciate culture associated with the feminine. It is noteworthy that all of the above-mentioned historical studies offered detailed descriptions and analyses of companies that published “sōgō zasshi” (general magazines)—periodicals that were then highly respected and targeted mainly male intellectuals. Even Kōdansha (then known as Dai Nihon Yūbenkai Kōdansha) published a sōgō zasshi, Gendai (Today, 1920–1946). In contrast, almost no publishers devoted to mass-market women’s magazines in the 1920s and 1930s published general magazines for male intellectuals. Moreover, even when researchers reviewed the democratization of publishing, they focused on Kingu, a “general” entertainment magazine, not on the almost equally popular “women’s magazines,” such as Shufu no tomo or Fujin kurabu (Women’s Club), in spite of the many male readers they had in the 1920s and 1930s and no matter how deeply they impressed various contemporary critics, compelling them to proclaim them a significant social phenomenon of their time. Thus, even in such 17 Hashimoto 1964; Shashi Hensan I’inkai 1952; Shashi Hensan I’inkai 1959a, 1959b; Kōdansha Shashi Henshū I’inkai 2001. 10 a localized case as interwar Japanese mass-market magazines, we can see the central importance of the feminine in the culture of modernity and its concomitant suppression in discourses concerning modernity, an issue that Rita Felski, a scholar in the fields of aesthetics, culture, and literary theory, compellingly problematizes in her analysis of the interconnection of gender and modernity in late nineteenth–century European culture.18 Other studies in the field of publication history have blamed the mass-market women’s magazine for mobilizing women for the war. Quintessential of this type of historical study were those conducted by writer and independent scholar of war-time journalism and literature Takasaki Ryūji.19 His analyses were hinged on the basic dualistic distinction between the “conscientious/good” magazines or articles and the “unconscientious/bad” ones, as his statements on the purpose of his project suggest: “[the purpose of this study is] to exhaustively muckrake the senders’/writers’ thoughts, credos, intelligence, and emotions as they were, to examine what kind of influences magazine journalism as media was under during wartime, and how they reported, endorsed, promoted, or distrusted the destructive means of modern warfare.”20 Thus, while his attempts were notable in that they treated the popular women’s magazine as worthy of attention, in the end they simply detected the “evil” in them without offering any detailed analysis of the signifying process at work in these magazines and among their readers. Studies in Women’s History: Referential Meaning and Repressive Theories of Mass Culture In Japanese academia, interwar women’s magazines have also been studied in the field of history—women’s history in particular. Many of these studies21 focused on women’s subjectivity, 18 See Felski 1995, especially the introduction (Myths of the Modern) and the first chapter (Modernity and Feminism) for a detailed overview of the interests propelling her project. 19 For example, see Takasaki’s works (1976, 1987, and 1995). 20 Takasaki 1976, 12. 21 Kindai Joseibunkashi Kenkyūkai 1989, 1995, 1996, 2001. 11 which they claimed was to be seen through the “window of women’s magazines,”22 a statement clearly suggesting their understanding of women’s subjectivity as a collective one. Indeed, they launched a pioneering attempt to give utterance to women’s voices, which, as Sharalyn Orbaugh (1996) aptly points out, had been silenced in the highly male-centered discourses about the “subject” or “subjectivity” of modern Japan. This “reconstructed” women’s voice, however, was not echoing the voices of all types of women. While they analyzed in detail magazines edited by and for intellectual/elite women of the time, such as Seitō (Bluestocking, launched in 1911) and Fujin kōron (Ladies’ Review, 1916), they blatantly disparaged and underestimated the mass-market magazines, condemning them for their “commercialism” and “shallowness.” 23 The situation of English-language academia up until the late 1990s was similar: the “new woman” or pioneering feminists and the magazines they launched or contributed to attracted many scholars’ attention, which popular women’s magazine in interwar Japan did not.24 Research of popular women’s magazines was left to a group of historians and lay citizens who analyzed the “commercialized” magazines of the 1930s instead of their high-brow counterparts.25 Whereas the members of this study group acknowledged the importance of the mass-market women’s magazines in the 1930s, their principal concerns lay not in the magazines per se, but rather in their role in wartime mobilization. They proclaimed that they would clarify “why women, who were born peace lovers, collaborated in that reckless war.”26 Thus, by extracting the texts that seemed to have stirred patriotic fervor and invited the readers to support the government in the war against “evil,” their studies showed tendencies and attendant defects similar to those of Takasaki’s work cited above. Another otherwise comprehensive analysis of women’s magazines by 22 Kindai Joseibunkashi Kenkyūkai 1996, the first page of the introduction (unpaged). 23 Kindai Joseibunkashi Kenkyūkai 1995: third page of the introduction (unpaged). 24 For example, Sievers 1983, Rodd 1991, Mackie 1997. 25 Watashitachi no Rekishi o Tsuzuru Kai 1987. 26 Watashitachi no Rekishi o Tsuzuru Kai 1987, 282. 12 journalism scholar Oka Mitsuo (1981) revealed the same inclination toward detecting cultural villains when it came to consideration of popular magazines during wartime. Again, these studies offered no constructive analysis of the interconnected operations of production, representation, distribution, and reading related to the magazines. These studies of interwar women’s magazines conducted within the field of women’s history shared a reliance upon referential meaning, a tendency toward a view of history as the accumulation of a series of discontinuities, and an understanding of mass culture as a repressive power. First, as shown above, they regarded these magazines as archival records from which one could retrieve “women’s voices” as a discrete entity. The texts of the articles, the style of language in which they were written, photographic images—these were all, according to their presumption, directly re-presenting and corresponding to the referred objects, people and their thoughts, credos, or feelings outside of the representational world. Hence, the primary work of researchers in these studies was to “dig up” such evidence buried in the historical sources as would support their arguments. The textuality, constructedness of texts and images, and formation and dissemination of mediated discourses was passed over in such positivistic analyses. Secondly, whether implicitly or explicitly, these studies tended to view history as a succession of different phases that were mutually disconnected in principle. Thus, cultural phenomena in the Taishō era (1912–1926) were described as “liberal” and “democratic,” while those in the subsequent first decade of the Shōwa era (roughly 1926–1936) were “erotic, grotesque nonsense,” those in the next decade (1937–1945) “totalitarian,” and those in the occupation decade immediately after WWII labeled as a “retrieval of liberalism and democracy.” As sociologist Yoshimi Shun’ya (2002) pointed out, even quite comprehensive pioneering studies on modern Japanese culture including women’s magazines that were conducted by a group led by social 13 psychologist Minami Hiroshi,27 revealed the same historical viewpoint based on disconnection. Consequently, problematics of the interconnected overlaps between different historical phases as well as complexities within individual phases were not sufficiently addressed in these studies, if not entirely ignored. The third problematic tendency implicit in these prior studies is the assumption of overly powerful media messages and a passive audience. According to their underlying theory, as social discourses or ideologies changed, reflecting such social shifts—since representations directly corresponded to their referred objects/people (“reality”)—the contents of various media naturally became affected by new ideologies, and so did the audiences. Therefore, they suggested that their ability to excavate “unknown” or “less known” historical sources of “totalitarian tendencies” or “modern gender roles” inevitably was equivalent to revealing the fact that people living amid the flood of such information also supported, or at least accepted, these totalitarian thoughts or the concept of such gender roles. This understanding of the relationship between mass culture and ideology strongly resembles that of the Frankfurt School. Adorno and Horkheimer observed that mass cultural products are highly standardized and authoritarian, for they are produced for purchase, to provide cultural industries with profit. As a result, they insisted, signifying practices operated by and through these cultural commodities are also so standardized and authoritarian that people do not need to actively participate in meaning-making; they become mere passive consumers. “Culture impresses the same stamp on everything. Films, radio and magazines make up a system which is 27 Their studies were published as two collections of papers in 1965 (featuring Taisho culture) and 1987 (featuring Showa culture), which include the following studies on publishing of the time: Okada and Sakimura 1965; Barbara Satō 1987b. With all her careful investigations and her pioneering insights into the importance of the women’s magazine including the mass-market, Barbara Sato’s studies of the interwar women’s magazines (1987b, 2003) were based on the above-mentioned presumptions, namely, the viewpoint of history as a series of disconnected phases, and the positivistic treatment of historical sources as a means of retrieving “women’s voices.” 14 uniform as a whole in every part.”28 However, as recent studies have revealed, signifying practices of mass culture are not so overly monolithic as the Frankfurt School analysis insists. First of all, audiences do not wholly and passively accept and internalize the ideologies disseminated through media. Nor do they fully control their own understanding, interpretation, or use of mass culture, either. The options for strategies and deployable sources available to consumers are restricted to some extent, and they are already enmeshed in and have even potentially internalized some of these social discourses, after all. Nevertheless, in many cases, they do not cease to actively manipulate the mass culture available to them: moderating, adding some changes or new elements, eliminating some parts, selecting and arranging certain elements of the commodities, or interpreting them differently from the dominant or assumed reading. People make meaning and value from and through mass cultural products in their own ways, which may be totally different meanings or values from those originally intended by their producers. 29 Thus, meaning and value are not inherent in the commodities or texts themselves, but rather are constructed by consumers, audiences, or users. Even when audiences do not concentrate on the production of meaning, but pay attention rather to the situatedness of an action, their practice could be understood as their own way of subverting or resisting, even if only slightly, the dominant norm or social demands. For example, a woman or man browsing women’s magazines in bed before sleeping is not reading the articles seriously or attentively, hence, is not a “creative” reader. Such an action, however, should not be understood as just “passive,” either. Her/his act of reading itself can be meaningful as an act of relaxing and enjoying one’s own time without being constrained by family or public duties.30 28 Adorno and Horkheimer 1979, 120. 29 For studies emphasizing creative consumption by consumers and audiences, see Radway 1984; Chambers 1987, 1990; Fiske 1989a, 1989b; Hebdige 1988; Willis 1990; and Bird 1992. Many of these studies draw on Michel De Certeau’s consideration of everyday cultural practices (1984). 30 Hermes 1995. For Hermes’ criticism of the “fallacy of meaningfulness,” that is, the false assumption 15 Thus, it is necessary to pay closer attention to the diverse practices of mass culture in terms of production, circulation, reception, and construction of various social discourses. Meanings of the components of the Japanese interwar mass-market women’s magazines did not exist entirely within the texts or visual images, waiting for readers to decode them just as was originally intended by the producers. Nor were these representations merely reflecting or re-presenting the referred world outside of them. As shown in the following chapters, readers of these magazines were not completely passive nor naïve, even though they were subject to some cultural and social contexts and codes.31 Various technological, editorial, and promotional changes created diverse opportunities for readers to participate actively in the signifying process, which, in fact, constituted part of the publishers’ strategies for increasing circulation. These changes included advances in photography, printing, and plate-making technologies; developments in systems of marketing, distribution, and promotion; and innovations in editing styles, article formats, and the shape of the magazine as a whole. These shifts also affected the connections between these magazines and other media and transformed the readers’ relationships to the components being represented, to the represented worlds, and to the editors and other readers. Researchers need to take into consideration as many of these interconnected elements as possible when analyzing the complex signifying practices of the magazines in question, while paying special attention to the workings of knowledge and power in the given contexts. Thus, all of these pioneering studies of interwar popular Japanese women’s magazines until the 1990s took it for granted that readers of these periodicals were lower middle–class women, not highly educated and prone to be influenced by the messages emitted through mass media. These that meanings of mass cultural production derive only from consumers’ or audiences’ active interpreting/consuming practices, see the “Introduction” and “Chapter 1: Everyday Media Use,” pp. 1–28. Studies similarly attentive to the use of media in everyday life are Radway 1984 and 1988; Morley 1980 and 1986; and Bird 1992. 31 As Bird aptly warns, researchers should be cautious when overtly celebrating readers’ creativity in analyzing signifying practices of mass culture (1992, 209). 16 studies usually neglected the possibility for these readers to subvert, inflect or appropriate the dominant discourses, representations, or recommended reading styles by and for themselves. They did not even take into account the existence of male readers of such magazines. Just as popular women’s magazines in interwar Japan had been marginalized in Japanese academia, English-language academia did not pay attention to this particular periodical genre from interwar Japan either. A Holistic or Multidimensional Approach and Prospects for Further Studies In the past few decades, research on mass-market women’s magazines has shown extensive developments beyond chronological studies and women’s history in both Japanese- and English-language academia. Recent studies recognize the importance of these periodicals in interwar Japanese society, and many overcame previous studies’ tendencies to view their readers as a collective “mass,” vulnerable to the imposed discourses. Instead of the naïve empiricism and rather simplistic view of history as a series of disconnected periods that was seen in earlier studies, the latest studies have started to consider these periodicals as apparatuses contributing to the ever-changing formation of various social discourses. While many such recent studies reveal a deep interest in the contested construction of gender roles—especially women’s roles32—some of them offer detailed interpretations and analyses of the mostly visual aspects of mass-market women’s magazines in order to consider the connection between representation and psychological mobilization of readers.33 Other recent studies focus on the formation of various modern practices 32 For example, Inuzuka 1989a, 1989b, Itagaki 1992, Kimura R. 1989a, 1989b, 1992, 2000, 2004, 2006a, 2006b, and 2010, Koyama 1999, Muta 1996, Yomo 1995, Watanabe S. 2007, The Modern Girl Around the World Research Group 2008, and Itō R. et al. 2010. While focusing on the situation in the previous period, Hirata Yumi’s research on women’s writings in the Meiji Era (1868–1912) is also related to the problematics raised and addressed by such studies on interwar women’s magazines (Hirata 1999). 33 For studies focusing on visuals, see Wakakuwa 1995, Migita 2001; Kitahara 2001, 2004. These studies rely not only on women’s magazines, but also on other mass-marketed print materials. Inoue M. (2006) is a rare example of an analysis of auditory modernity. 17 and associated desires, such as reading, advertising, and consumption.34 They differ from previous similar studies in their attention to the constructedness of such social discourses rather than simply upholding a positivistic view of them as reflecting reality, which leaves room for the audience (or “readers” in this case) to participate in this meaning-formation, at least to some extent. In addition, many of these recent studies on interwar popular women’s magazines are conscious of the complexities of historical transition, with its interconnected continuities and discontinuities.35 Although they confront the rather monolithic conceptualization of representation, readers, and history presented by earlier works, these studies are still not without deficiencies; there are issues yet to be addressed. The problem is threefold: first, in the approach to print media, second, in the attitude taken toward analyzing the representations appearing in print media, and third, in the interrelated relationship between magazine genres and gender categories. As for the first, in most cases, if not without several exceptions, recent studies do not aim to consider the implications of the mass-market women’s magazine in interwar Japan as a print medium. Rather, their interests lie in the formation and transformation of various social discourses or modern practices, such as gender roles, nationalism, consumption, and the like. Taking the articles or visuals included in these magazines as “historical materials” to be interpreted, they focus on elucidating the workings of signification in a few components of the magazines, such as the serialized novel, the advertisement, the fashion article, the advisory essay, the cover image, and so on. Thus, they do not address the issue of the position of this hitherto marginalized magazine genre within the larger publishing and reading culture. 34 See Kitada 1998a; Ishida 1998, 2001, 2003, 2004 and 2015; Frederick 2006; Sezaki 2008. Maeda’s studies on serial novels in popular women’s magazines were the pioneering attempts in this direction (Maeda 2001a/1968). While mostly dealing with literary works appearing in “high-brow” magazines and their readers, Wada (1997, 2002) and Odaira (2008) are also helpful studies falling in this category. 35 Fashion articles in the magazines in question, for instance, clearly show that consumer culture did not simply end as soon as the war started (Ishida 2003). 18 Another related problem is that their studies prominently rely on the method of textual analysis. With the exception of only a few studies,36 most recent research has been heavily inclined toward analyses of the text and representations appearing in the magazines in question, which results in a relative neglect of the impact of production, distribution, and reading on the signifying process. Nor do they adequately address the ways in which changes in modes of expression as well as rhetorical and editing styles affect the practices of producing and reading representations, and the relationship of the readers with the texts, those represented in the texts/images, other readers, and their other everyday activities. While the importance of textual analysis is undeniable, the formation and transitions of the idealized image of modern lifestyle and the sense of national connectedness, for instance, could be more thoroughly elucidated by examining shifts in modes of expression and their accompanying influence on representation and reading practices. Similarly, another urgent issue in this field yet to be reconsidered is the problematization of the gendering nature of the magazine genre itself. As I have already briefly pointed out and will argue in more detail in the following chapters, the “women’s magazine” was not always what we understood it should be; its content, form, style, and significance—that is, its position in the print and reading culture, or in its readers’ everyday lives—were never consistent, nor monolithic. All these aspects of the magazine have changed continuously since its inception at the end of the nineteenth century. This is demonstrated in the above-described shifts in the definition of the interwar popular women’s magazine: while contemporary critics in the interwar period regarded it as the most noteworthy promoter of democratization of publishing, acknowledging the conspicuous number of male readers of the genre, scholars in the subsequent periods treated it as a flashy example of an embryonic mass-magazine, marginalizing it as a medium solely attracting female (namely 36 For example, Kitada (1998a) and Frederick (2006) are attentive to textuality, mediatedness, technological developments, and differences among the readers. 19 housewife) readers, presumably reflecting the position of the women’s magazine of their times. Such an understanding of the readership of interwar mass-market women’s magazine still prevails among scholars. While recognizing these magazines as important cultural artifacts, most of the latest studies still view women—particularly housewives—as their readers.37 Although a few studies pointed out the widespread readership of interwar Japanese popular magazines beyond age, class, and gender restrictions,38 even they do not venture to fully consider the implications of such a wide range of readers and the significance of the interwar popular women’s magazine in the history of publishing in modern Japan. In short, the genre of the mass-market women’s magazine in interwar Japan has not been seriously investigated on its own. Yet, before examining articles or visuals appearing in these magazines to consider the formation of various social discourses and practices, or, to put it more accurately, in order to present thorough, in-depth analyses and a more nuanced understanding of them, we need to pay much closer attention to their interrelated associations with textuality and modes of expression. In order to be fully attentive to such issues, in turn, we need to address first and foremost what exactly this specific periodical genre was in interwar Japan. How did the women’s magazine come into being and transform over time in modern Japan? What were the implications of the unprecedented popularity of the mass-market interwar Japanese women’s magazine in the contexts of production, circulation, and reception of print media in the country? How were these issues related to the gendered categorization of print media and readers? In contrast to the research on early Japanese mass-market women’s magazines, recent studies on women’s magazines in the previous period (i.e., the Meiji era) as well as popular women’s 37 Even Sarah Frederick’s groundbreaking comprehensive study on interwar women’s magazines was dismissive of their male readers (Frederick 2006). 38 Nagamine 1997, 157–202 (especially 189 and 193–194); Sato 2003, 30–33 and 133–135. 20 magazines in Europe and North America increasingly veer toward a holistic approach. Blessed with the development of studies on contiguous popular cultural practices such as romance novels, soap opera, film, and the like,39 these new investigations of women’s magazines attempt to combine a variety of approaches to cultural products and practices, including long-practiced textual analysis, historical research of production and reading practices, and reception studies.40 In addition, the latest reception studies not only address the role readers play in actively producing meaning for these texts, but also examine the significance of the act of magazine reading as implied by its position in their everyday activities.41 Moreover, unlike most prior studies on the women’s magazine, some of them also acknowledge the position of male readers of this particular magazine genre, recognizing that although the genre is conventionally known as “women’s magazines,” the pleasure of reading such periodicals is not limited exclusively to female readers.42 Drawing on recent developments in studies on periodicals in and outside Japan, I would like to address how the so-called women’s magazines came to be gendered differently in different time periods, when and how they became marginalized as a “women’s issue” or “women’s culture,” and what these phenomena mean in the history of print and reading culture in modern Japan.43 39 Radway 1984; Modleski 2007/1982; Hermes 1995; Gough-Yates 2003. 40 Kōno 1992 and 2003; Komori et al. eds. 1997; Seki 2007; Okada 2013; Wada 2014. 41 Bird 1992, Hermes 1995. 42 Hermes 1995. Bird (1992) shares Hermes’ interest in and attentiveness to male readers, although the target of her study is, strictly speaking, not traditional women’s magazines, but the tabloid, another magazine genre that has conventionally been considered to be “feminine.” Hermes also included it in her study under the category of “gossip magazine (tabloid).” 43 While my first dissertation (“The Age of Shufu no tomo”), submitted to and accepted by the University of Tokyo in 2010, attempted to address these issues to some extent, its emphasis and scope are different from those of this dissertation, since the former project mainly focused on the role of a certain publisher, namely, Shufu no Tomosha, in the history of publishing in Japan. In contrast, this dissertation aims at considering the implications of changes in print/reading culture brought about by the women’s magazine from broader perspectives, particularly in the contexts of the interrelated category formation of magazine genres and genders, as well as the emergence of seemingly “democratic” editorial and promotional strategies in Japan. 21 A Brief Overview of Each Chapter In order to address the above issues, this dissertation focuses on interwar Japanese popular women’s magazines as a starting point for exploring the democratization of print/reading culture in Japan, reconsidering the history of print media and reading practices in modern Japan in general. I will reconsider the significance of interwar Japanese women’s magazines such as Shufu no tomo (Housewife’s Friend), Fujin kurabu (Ladies’ Club), Fujokai (World of Ladies and Girls), and the like, through comparisons with other Japanese periodicals of the time, focusing on aspects of readership, structure, editing style, layout, and promotional strategies.44 I will also examine other historical documents, including contemporary criticism, surveys, company histories, and data concerning price, circulation, content, and readership. In addition, I will analyze readers’ memoirs45 in order to identify evidence of readers’ reactions beyond their contributions to the magazines in question. Toward the end of the dissertation, I will explore the way in which this “new medium” transformed people’s reading habits into “browsing” magazines for relaxation, which would become the predominant mode of periodical reading in Japan thereafter. In Chapter Two, I will first outline the overall development of periodicals in modern Japan in general, and situate the interwar women’s magazine within it. The course of this analysis will 44 As the list of periodicals included in the Works Cited shows, I researched a wide range of periodicals, both magazines and newspapers, published between the 1890s and 1937, i.e., the period from the establishment of the industrialization of publishing in Japan to the point when censorship became undeniably tightened by the launch of the National Spiritual Mobilization Movement (Kokumin Seishin Sōdōin Undō) with the start of the Second Sino-Japanese War on July 7, 1937. In particular, I investigated most closely the following women’s magazines (listed in order of launch): Jogaku zasshi (Magazine of Women’s Learning), Jogaku sekai (Girl Student’s World), Fujin sekai (Ladies’ World), Fujin no tomo (Ladies’ Friend), Fujokai (World of Ladies and Girls), Shufu no tomo (Housewife’s Friend), Fujin kōrōn (Ladies’ Review), and Fujin kurabu (Ladies’ Club). For detailed information about the years of their launch and cessation, see the Works Cited. 45 Admittedly, these memoirs are mostly written by intellectuals, due to the scarcity of such writings by non-intellectual readers of contemporary magazines. Nevertheless, being written from the viewpoint of readers of periodicals, these intellectuals’ texts offer some insights into the history of publishing in modern Japan. 22 require us to reconsider the very notion of the “women’s magazine,” which has been conventionally regarded as reading material for women. The next chapter (Chapter Three) will present an overview of the characteristics of mass-market interwar Japanese women’s magazines in terms of format, editing style, content, readership, distribution, marketing, and promotion systems, comparing them with other types of periodicals of the time. This comparison will show how refreshingly novel the interwar mass-market women’s magazine was, which in turn will invite us to define this magazine genre as a “new medium.” Chapter Four will examine the discursive significance of contemporary controversies over the interwar mass-market women’s magazine. Some of the traits exhibited by this magazine genre can be found among other kinds of periodicals of the time in Japan. Yet, it was the interwar popular women’s magazine that received severe criticism in Japan. What does this peculiar phenomenon imply? In considering this question, I will also address issues of categorization and classification, some of the fundamental features of modernity. Specifically, I will problematize the categorical interrelatedness of gender, magazine genre, and formation of hierarchy among everyday cultural products, in this case, periodicals. The fifth chapter addresses changes in editing style, namely, the extensive involvement of readers in articles and events, and the resulting apparent increased empowerment of readers of the magazine in question. While starting with analysis of examples from different women’s magazines, toward the end of this chapter, I will focus on article genres developed in Shufu no tomo, for it established the new “reader-oriented” editing strategies, which was to be adopted by not only other women’s magazines but also other different types of periodicals, such as general magazines and newspapers, forming, in a sense, the basic format for the modern, still prevent, practices. One of the most conspicuous characteristics of the mass-market women’s magazine of the time was the expansion of reader participation in editing as well as media events. The increasingly accessible style, 23 greater number of components and events based on readers’ submissions and ideas, less prominent position of the editors, less instructive writing tone, and a more seemingly standardized format of the articles—most of which are techniques still widely practiced in Japanese mass media today—all contributed to promoting the magazine genre’s egalitarian image. While such a reader-oriented editing style appeared to empower readers by including their voices, it also cunningly created a new invisible hierarchy among participants in the magazine community. The complex, simultaneous operation of empowerment and disempowerment, as well as inclusion and exclusion, of readers will also be closely analyzed. Summarizing the analyses and arguments presented in these chapters, and suggesting issues for further study, the Conclusion (Chapter Six) will point out that the shift in Japanese print and reading culture centering around the interwar mass-market women’s magazine is comparable to the phenomenon known as “New Journalism” or “yellow journalism” in English-speaking countries while referring to its connections with other print media from previous periods, including the Meiji era and the Edo period. The following questions will be addressed in the subsequent chapters: How did the so-called women’s magazine come to be gendered differently in different time periods? (Chapter Two) Exactly what kind of periodical was the mass-market women’s magazine in the context of the print/reading culture of the time? (Chapter Three) Why did the mass-market women’s magazine provoke such public controversies in interwar Japan? (Chapter Four) How did readers of the interwar mass-market women’s magazine involve themselves in the magazine community? (Chapter Five) In sum, this research project addresses the questions of what changes in print/reading culture were brought about by the mass-market women’s magazine in interwar Japan and what their implications were. 24 Notes on the Terms “Democratic” and “Interwar” A word of explanation about my use of the terms “democratic,” “democratization,” and “interwar” in this dissertation is in order before I move on to analysis of the periodicals. In this dissertation, I use words such as “democratic” and “democratization” not in their political sense (i.e., as words describing a certain form of governance), but rather, in a more metaphorical sense, though not entirely without political resonances. In contrast, I use the term “democracy” with its political implications. Tracing the historical transitions and diversification of the meanings of “democracy” and “democratic,” Raymond Williams observes that, while “democracy” is now understood to refer to either “direct democracy” or “representative democracy [indirect democracy],”46 the word “democratic” is often used in two non-political meanings: the one referring to “freedom of speech,” that is, “the conditions of open argument, without necessary reference to elections or to power”; the other describing “democratic manners or feelings,” or “acting as if all people were equal, and deserved equal respect, whether this is really so or not.”47 Drawing on and extending Williams’ explanation of the word “democratic,” I will use the words “democratic” and “democratization” to refer to the perceived or alleged conditions of inclusiveness and egalitarianism in the magazine community and its making: a sort of imagined mediated community in which all the participants, including editors, writers, specialists, celebrities, readers, contest applicants, related-media-event goers, who are featured and presented in stories are seemingly equally and/or represented as having equal rights and accessibility to join, whether directly or indirectly, (at least a part of) the process of making the magazine pages or its media events, regardless of their various attributes or social conditions. It is noteworthy that even in the social sciences, where the term “democracy” and related words are used with predominantly political 46 Williams 1985/1976, 93–96. 47 Williams 1985/1976, 97. 25 connotations, inclusiveness, participation, and majority— concepts that are related to the seemingly “non-political” usage of the term in this dissertation—are key concerns.48 The “interwar period” refers, at least as an English-language term, to the period between the end of the First World War (November 1918) and the beginning of the Second World War (September 1939). Whereas the concept of the “interwar” is particularly important in European histories, it is usually not considered so in the history of modern Japan, which was, due to its geographical distance from the main battlefields, relatively less affected by the First World War, though the war did impact the country as well its economics, politics (both international and domestic), thought and various discourses, including those at the intellectual level and those related to everyday practices. Instead, references to imperial eras—i.e., the Taisho era and the Showa era—are more common in Japanese modern history. While I do not abandon era-based period demarcations, in this dissertation I still use the term “interwar period,” with slight modifications in the English usage, as will be explained below, mainly for the following three reasons. First, this is the period in which the main focus of this research project, namely, the major mass-market women’s magazine, developed highly. This period also observed the rise of modern consumer culture and had close relations with the mass-market women’s magazine as well. As the following chapters show, the mass-market women’s magazine became established as a distinct magazine genre after the launch of the magazine Shufu no tomo (Housewife’s Friend) in March 1917. Strictly speaking, its launch was still during wartime, but its popularity and influence in the publishing industry only became firmly settled after the end of the First World War, with the increase in people’s needs for practical information about an “economical” and “rational” modern lifestyle in response to the post–World War I inflationary spiral, which culminated in the eruption of the rice 48 Smith G. 2000, 158–160. 26 riots of 1918, a series of popular disturbances across Japan from July to September 1918. The situation was further aggravated by the Siberian Intervention (1918–1920), which brought about the fall of the Terauchi cabinet and was to affect the country’s policy of rice production in its colonies—a symbolic example that Japan’s economic as well as political situation, its people’s lives, and colonial policies were not unaffected by the global socio-political situation.49 Eventually, however, as the nation’s economy recovered and the average income in most social classes (at least in the urban areas) increased,50 the discourses appearing in mass-market women’s magazines of the time, including Suhfu no tomo, Fujin sekai, Fujokai, Fujin kurabu, and the like, gradually shifted their emphasis on “frugality” in home economics, through “wise consumption,” to “consumption” itself, partly under the influence of Western consumerist culture and lifestyle.51 In this way, the 1920s and 1930s saw the rise of modern consumer culture, alongside show business, such as films and all-female review companies, which, as I analyzed elsewhere,52 caused controversies over the “modern girl” as the perceived “Americanization” of the society developed, symbolic of which was the reconstruction of Tokyo after the Great Kanto Earthquake in 1923. As will be explained in more detail in Chapter Two, the circulation of the women’s magazine continued to increase throughout the interwar period, that is, the period between the two world wars. Thanks to their large circulation, mass-market women’s magazines functioned as one of the main “trendsetters” during the 1920s and the 1930s. Second, in this dissertation, I would like to trace the changes brought about by the mass-market women’s magazine in Japanese print/reading culture without being too restrained by the conventional era-based chronology, which often associates each era with a specific preconceived 49 For the rice riots of 1918, see Inoue and Watanabe eds. 1959–1962; Lewis 1990. 50 Nakagawa K. 1985, 382–392. 51 Maeshima 2012, 116–198. 52 Maeshima 2012, 2014a. 27 characteristic. Although this chronological method has certain advantages, for instance, in considering the people’s sense of the times or their reactions to the imperial family at certain times, such as during the demise and/or the coronation of an emperor, it has its downsides as well, one of which, particularly relevant to this dissertation, is its tendency to mark each era with a set of specific characteristics, usually summarized by a catchphrase, such as “Taisho democracy (Taishō demokurasī)” or early Showa “erotic, grotesque, nonsense (ero-guro-nansensu),” followed by “totalitarianism (zentai shugi).” However, changes in society developed gradually across eras and seemingly contradictory phenomena—such as democracy and totalitarianism, for example—theoretically could and in reality did co-exist in Japan, epitomized by the establishment of two laws in the same year of 1925, namely, the General Election Law (Futsū Senkyo Hō), which realized universal male suffrage, and the Public Security Preservation Law (Chian Iji Hō), which meant, from the viewpoint of the publishing industry, tightening of the already fairly strict censorship.53 Similarly, as I will discuss in the following chapters, while seemingly democratic editorial and promotional strategies developed in interwar Japanese periodicals, particularly among mass-market women’s magazines, they also cunningly served to conceal the mediated nature of published stories and how they controlled the audiences’ or readers’ participation in magazine making. Third, by using the term “interwar period” instead of chronological demarcations by Japanese imperial era, I would like to emphasize the contemporaneity of developments during this time with similar developments in the other areas of the world. In English-speaking regions, democratic changes in editorial and promotional strategies, whose early forms had appeared in the late 19th century with the emergence of “new journalism” or “yellow journalism,” developed significantly during the interwar period with the vogue of tabloids during this time, a trend that is 53 On the complexity of “Taisho Democracy,” see Matsuo 1974, Mitchell 1976, Imai 2006. 28 sometimes called “jazz journalism.” 54 Although this dissertation is mainly concerned with transitions in print/reading culture in early 20th-century Japan, I was considering this research project in the context of similar global shifts in publishing. Lastly, I must introduce some modifications to the definition of the word “interwar period” as it is used in this study. When the term “interwar” is used in historical studies concerning the Japanese context, it usually refers to the period between the two world wars (1918–1939), just like in European or North American histories.55 In some cases, the end of the period could be either pushed a little later, since Japan joined the Second World War at the end of 1941 with the attack on Pearl Harbor (also known as the beginning of the Asia-Pacific War), or moved forward to 1937, the year of the Marco Polo Bridge Incident (also Rokōkyō Jiken or Lugouqiao Shibian), known as the beginning of the Second Sino-Japanese War, or further moved forward to 1931 if the Japanese invasion of Manchuria is taken as the de facto start of the Second Sino-Japanese War. While I do agree with the view that the so-called “Manchurian Incident” and subsequent various “incidents” definitely had an impact on Japanese society and the subsequent years observed a growth of militarism and patriotism,56 from the viewpoint of censorship and control of thought, I would like to see 1937 as a watershed. For, as media historian Park Soon Ae argues, although it had not been entirely ignored in the previous decade, it was only starting with the Marco Polo Bridge Incident that the Ministry of Home Affairs (naimu shō) started the serious, systemic use of media to mobilize its citizens and for foreign propaganda. 57 Moreover, whereas, until then, Japan had observed the intermittent rise of populist militaristic and patriotic fever at the “eruption of an incident,” with the implementation of the National Spiritual Mobilization Movement (Kokumin Seishin Sōdōin Undō) 54 Bingham 2004, Bird 1992, Wiener ed. 1988, and Wiener 2011. 55 For such studies, see titles included in Kuroda et al., 2003. 56 Louise Young vividly illustrated and closely examined such militaristic mood in the society with various examples of contemporary mediated discourses (1998, 55–114). 57 Park Soon Ae 2005, 24–27, 30–31, 37–40. 29 two months after the Marco Polo Bridge Incident, this fever was made “official” and became ongoing.58 Thus, in terms of media conditions, one can see an obvious, continual shift in 1937. This is not to say, however, that the above-defined “interwar period” had nothing to do with any kind of war or wartime national policy. On the contrary, various modern institutions, discourses, and practices that developed during this so-called “interwar period” offered the basis for “wartime” socio-cultural conditions. The “democratized” and highly “commercialized” publishing industry, the developments and characteristics of which will be examined in the following chapters, was one such institution. And, arguably, the totalitarian wartime social conditions were related to or made possible by the “democratic” tendencies and everyday modern consumerist practices developed during the interwar period. In a sense, then, the “interwar period” was, though it may sound like an oxymoron, a part of the “wartime.” As space is limited, this dissertation does not fully address the issue of the relationship between the media, everyday life practices, and the totalitarian wartime mobilization effort. However, I believe that a deeper understanding of the contemporary media will provide us with clearer and more nuanced insights into the interrelated developments of the media, modern everyday practices, and the wartime mobilization. I hope that this study will contribute to such an understanding. 58 For censorship in modern Japan up until 1945, see Mitchell 1984; Rubin 1984 and Kasza 1998. 30 Chapter 2: Beyond “Magazines for Women”: The Emergence of Mass-Market Women’s Magazines as Popular Magazines for Both Sexes and their Historical Contexts As noted in the introduction, while their approaches vary, previous studies on the interwar mass-market women’s magazine share the assumption that these magazines attracted female readers exclusively. Based on such an assumption, pioneering chronological studies of publishing in modern Japan tended to conclude that the interwar popular women’s magazine constituted a relatively “minor,” if distinct, genre in the history of modern Japanese print culture.1 In contrast, recent studies recognize the importance of this particular magazine genre as an historical source, yet most still adhere to the view that popular women’s magazines published in interwar Japan were edited for and read by women, and thus do not question what kind of periodicals they actually were, or who really read them for what purposes. The numerous comments on and controversies over the magazine genre of the time, however, compel us to rethink its position and significance in the publication history of Japan. Why did this particular magazine genre, which was, as the name suggests, originally created for female readers, attract so many people—including men—in Japan, unlike in most other societies? Why did it provoke this much public controversy? Did it have more to do with the democratization of Japanese print/reading culture than we usually assume? If so, how did this magazine genre democratize or transform print media and the concomitant reading practice in Japanese society? In order to elucidate these questions, we have first to understand exactly what kind of periodical the 1 It should be noted that there are some exceptional scholars who insisted that researchers should pay more attention to the crucial role that women’s magazines played in the modern Japanese publishing world. Such scholars, however, either just argued generally for the necessity of further research on this magazine genre (Nagamine 1997 and Satō 2002) or focused on only one aspect of this kind of periodical in their analyses (Maeda 2001/1973, focusing on serialized novels, and Kitada 1998, focusing on advertising styles). 31 mass-market women’s magazine was in Japan in the context of the print/reading culture of the time. But before that, we need to grasp the big picture of magazine culture and its socio-cultural conditions in modern Japan in the time leading up to the interwar period. This chapter will explore the increasing popularity of women’s magazines and the expansion of their readership, as well as the socio-cultural backgrounds that enabled this particular magazine genre to obtain widespread readership. One caveat is in order. Since the first section is largely based on existing chronological studies of print culture in modern Japan, it shares some of their shortcomings that I explained in the Introduction, especially that of periodization according to the large “representative” publishers. This limitation, however, will be addressed in the following sections and chapters, with analyses of contemporary data, commentaries, and actual magazine articles that were not well incorporated in the pioneering historical studies in this field. Development of the Magazine in Modern Japan Industrialization of Magazine Publishing2 The first magazine-style publication in modern Japan is said to be Seiyō zasshi (Western Magazine) edited by Yanagawa Shunzō, then a professor at the Western Studies Institute (Bakufu Kaiseijo: lit., Shogunal Institution of Development) in 1867. It was a small booklet consisting of translated articles explaining various aspects of European culture ranging from natural sciences to history. Strictly speaking, however, it was not until the 1870s that the magazine as regular periodical became well established in Japan, with the publication of Meiroku zasshi (Meiroku Magazine) in 1873. This general interest magazine was edited by an elite intellectual group called Meirokusha. In 2 Unless otherwise stated, the description of publishing history in this section is based on the following studies: Okano 1957 (46–433); Ishikawa S. 1959 (9–158); Ogawa 1962 (1–131); Hashimoto 1964 (12–540); Shimizu and Kobayashi 1979 (39–73); Minami and Shakai Shinri Kenkyūjo 1965 (118–148, 231–245, 316–333, 334–349) and 1987 (198–231, 232–256, 257–286, 287–320). 32 the subsequent decade, various magazines followed, including Eisai shinshi (New Magazine for Geniuses, a writing competition magazine founded in 1877), Tōkyō keizai zasshi (Tokyo Economics Magazine, 1879), Seirisōdan (Magazine of Political Theories, 1882), Jogaku zasshi (Magazine of Women’s Learning, originally founded as Jogaku shinshi or New Magazine of Women’s Learning in 1883, and relaunched as Jogaku zasshi in 1884), Chūō kōron (Central Review, originally launched as Hanseikai zasshi in 1887, but renamed as Hansei zasshi in 1892 and Chūō kōron in 1899), Kokumin no tomo (The Nation’s Friend, 1887), Katei zasshi (Home Magazine, 3 founded by journalist, critic, and historian Tokutomi Sohō in 1892), and others. These early magazines targeted mainly intellectuals and contributed greatly to the introduction of various Western modern ideas and trends, both social and cultural, into Japan. The following decades were the age of the industrialization of magazine publication. With the profits from the collection of essays Nihon taika ronshū (Collection of Japanese Authorities) in 1887, Ōhashi Sahei, the founder of the publishing company Hakubunkan, launched as many as thirteen magazine titles within the following two years. In 1895, these magazines were further integrated into a single monthly entitled Taiyō (The Sun), the first nationally recognized “general magazine (sōgō zasshi),” which soon became popular among intellectuals and enjoyed a circulation of one hundred thousand copies a month for its first decade.4 While publishing other well-circulated magazines such as Bungei kurabu (Literature Club) and Shōnen sekai (Boy’s World), Hakubunkan had, by the twentieth century, formed its own “publishing kingdom” with the establishment of various related organizations, such as the distribution agency Tōkyōdō (in 1889), news agency Naigai Tsūshinsha (1893), printing house Hakubunkan Insatsujo (1896, today’s Kyōdō Insatsu/Kyōdō Printing), library Ōhashi Toshokan (1902, today’s Sankō Toshokan/Sankō Library), 3 There is another magazine with exactly the same title launched by Sakai Toshihiko in 1903. 4 This data is based on statistics compiled by the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, appearing in Suzuki ed. 2001 (9). 33 and the like. Though the popularity of its magazines lasted for a while, battered by the intense competition5 and its out-of-date buy-out distribution policy, the company suffered from deficits by the 1920s and in 1928 had to cease the publication of its once national magazine Taiyō. The next formidable publisher was Jitsugyō no Nihonsha. It published numerous magazines such as Jitsugyō no Nihon (Japan Business, founded in 1896), Fujin sekai (Woman’s World, 1906), Nihon shōnen (Japan Boy, 1906), and so on, many of which competed intensively with the Hakubunkan publications. The company’s success is well epitomized by the case of its women’s magazines; with the introduction of a refreshing, more accessible editing style and a new consignment-based distribution system, Jitsugyō no Nihonsha’s Fujin sekai increased its circulation to three hundred thousand, far exceeding the circulation of Jogaku sekai (Girl Student’s World, founded in 1901), which stood at seventy to eighty thousand. Following the example of Hakubunkan and Jitsugyō no Nihonsha, many other publishers also launched a variety of monthlies targeting different readerships. Kinkōdō, for example, founded as many as seven different magazines at once in 1902, touting them as “Kinkōdō’s Seven Great Magazines (Kinkōdō nanadai zasshi).” In this way, the magazine industry became fairly firmly established by the interwar period, when most of the mass-market women’s magazines were launched. Nation-Wide Systematization of Distribution and Advertising Such publishing conglomerates were made possible by developments in printing technologies and systematization of publishing-related industries. While the technology of halftone printing had already been put into practical use by the end of nineteenth century, it was around the 5 In the case of “general magazines,” for instance, Chūō kōron (Central Review) was launched in 1886 and Kaizō (Reformation) in 1919. Both surpassed Taiyō in circulation by the 1920s. 34 time of the Russo-Japanese War (1904–1905) when inclusion of photo images in periodicals became commonplace in Japan out of a need for more immediate, accurate visual information on the war. In 1904, Hōchi shinbun (Hōchi Newspaper or Reporting Newspaper) successfully achieved halftone on the web press, and thereafter this printing technology came to be commonly practiced among publishers throughout the country.6 In addition, other printing technologies, such as collotype and photolithography, were also utilized when clear images were needed.7 Inclusion of visuals in periodicals became ever more popular during the 1920s. Starting with WWI, when the demand for immediate, detailed reports of wars and international affairs increased, numerous printing technologies developed to feed the vogue of photo magazines and photo newspapers or tabloids in Europe as well as in North America.8 These technologies, namely, gravure printing, offset printing, H. B. process (polychrome offset printing), and the like, were soon introduced into Japan.9 The development of vest-pocket cameras like Leica also supported the trend toward visualization of news reports by allowing photographers to snap pictures of moving objects or people, sometimes without even being noticed by others, including those who were being photographed.10 Moreover, by 1920, individual wholesale booksellers and associations of booksellers had 6 The introduction of photographed images into the periodical itself had already been practiced with Shashin shinbun published in 1879. This magazine, however, did not enjoy a large ongoing circulation and was soon discontinued after the publication of its tenth issue. The photo images were not printed directly onto the pages of the magazine: rather, developed photographs were pasted onto them (Taniguchi 1931, 217–218). My explanation of photo-printing techniques is based on the following studies: Shuppan Jiten Henshū Iinkai 1971; Nihon Insatsu Gakkai 2002; Rosenblum 1997; Murase 1931, 218–219; Hasegawa 1987, 134; Carpenter 1990; Galarneau 2008; Dansereau 2008. 7 Shuppan Jiten Henshū Iinkai 1971, 49–50, 150, 370, 461; Murase 1931, 285–293. See also the explanations of related terms in the glossary of Rosenblum. 8 Pictorial magazines featuring images in photogravure, such as Midweek Pictorial as well as a sort of photo newspaper known as the tabloid became prevalent in Euroamerica (Hasegawa 1987, 140–141; Kimura Ki 1933/1932, 39–42; Carlebach 1997, 143–192). 9 On printing technologies such as gravure printing, offset printing, and H.B. process, see the explanations in Nihon Insatsu Gakkai and Shuppanjiten Henshū Iinkai as well as the following: Sonobe 1987 (183–206); Hasegawa 1987 (136–137). 10 On the development and growth of Leica, see Furointo (Freund) 1986/1974 (155–159). 35 merged into several major partnerships. For instance, in 1924, after continuous merging, all magazine-selling associations merged into a single national organization called Nihon Zasshi Kyōkai (Japan Magazine Association).11 Likewise, in 1925, the former wholesale booksellers integrated themselves into four major ones, namely, Tōkyodō, Tōkaidō, Hokurikukan, and Daitōkan.12 Such major associations established a nationwide distribution network across the country, which greatly facilitated the bookselling business. Now, whatever problems might occur in terms of distribution, book agents all over the country no longer needed to negotiate with each publisher individually. Developments and maturity of the paper industry also contributed to the growth of mass print culture.13 Expansion of the advertising industry resulting from the development of industries such as medicine and cosmetics also promoted major publication through commercialization. One statistical analysis tells us that in 1913, income through advertising at newspaper publishers reached 50 percent of business earnings in Tokyo and 55 percent in Osaka.14 It was during the 1910s that management of major advertisement agencies such as Mannendō (founded in 1890), Hakuhōdō (1895), and Nihon 11 The period from the end of Meiji era to the following Taishō era saw the foundation of major wholesale booksellers and nation-wide sales networks, with the steady establishment of the following associations: Tōkyo Shoseki Shuppan Eigyōsha Kumiai (Tokyo Book Publishers Association, founded in Nov. 1987 and reorganized as Tōkyo Shosekishō Kumiai/Tokyo Bookstores Association in 1902), Tōkyo Zasshi Urisabaki Eigyōsha Kumiai (Tokyo Magazine Sellers Association, founded in 1892), Ōsaka Shosekishō Kumiai (Osaka Booksellers Association, founded in Aug. 1897), Tōkyo Zasshi Kumiai (Tokyo Magazine Association, founded in March 1914 and reorganized as Nihon Zasshi Kyōkai/Japan Magazine Association in May 1924), Tōkyo Zasshi Hanbaigyō Kumiai (Tokyo Magazine Sellers Association, founded in April 1914), Ōsaka Zasshi Hanbaigyō Kumiai (Osaka Magazine Sellers Association, founded in May 1914), Tōkyo Tosho Shuppan Kyōkai (Tokyo Book Publishers Association, founded in Oct. 1914 and reorganized as Tōkyo Shuppan Kyōkai/Tokyo Publishers Association in 1918), Tōkyo Tosho Zasshi Junkourigyō Kumiai (Tokyo Books Magazines Retailers Association, founded in 1919), Zenkoku Shosekishō Kumiai Rengōkai (National Federation of Bookstores Associations, founded in 1920). On the establishment of publishing-related associations up to the prolongation of the war between China and Japan, see Hashimoto 1964 (45–540) and Shimizu and Kobayashi 1979 (35–36). 12 Hashimoto 1964, 346–347. 13 On the publishing world of the time in general, see the above studies by Hashimoto, Shimizu and Kobayashi, as well as Satō Takumi 2002. 14 Sakamoto 1951; Minami et al. 1965, 130. 36 Kōkoku Dairiten (1900; today’s Dentsū), many of which still operate today, became stable.15 Until then, advertising tended to be despised as a low-prestige job in Japan. The chief editor and president of Fujokai (founded in 1910 and relaunched in 1913), Tsugawa Tatsumi, recalled how shameful and embarrassed he felt when he first solicited ads as an employee for Fujin no tomo (Ladies’ Friend; originally launched as Katei no tomo or “Home’s Friend” in 1903 and renamed in 1908) (201−202). With the development of the advertising industry, however, the importance of advertisement became widely acknowledged in various industries, and advertising techniques such as design and ad copy came to be actively studied. The 1910s observed the emergence of numerous academic groups and journals specializing in advertising design or copy.16 Alongside these activities, various ad design contests and exhibitions were held and special book series on advertisement were published.17 Thus, Ishikawa Takeyoshi (a.k.a. Takemi), the founder of Shufu no tomo (Housewife’s Friend, launched in 1917), no longer felt any shame in soliciting and including gaudy advertisements in his magazine; rather, he even enjoyed it.18 And it was mass-market women’s magazines edited by Tsugawa or Ishikawa that extensively deployed new advertising techniques, as will be examined in the next chapter. 15 Minami et al. 1965, 130. 16 Examples of journals on advertising studies of the time include Dentsū’s Shinbun sōran (launched in 1900), Kōkoku sekai (1916), and Kōkoku kenkyū zasshi (1917) and those of advertising-related study groups, Ōsaka Kōkoku Kenkyūkai (1911) and Waseda Daigaku Kōkoku Kenkyūkai (1914). Increased interest in advertising can be found in the following as well: Ōsaka asahi shinbun’s use of design-oriented advertisements (started in 1904), a special section featuring photo advertisements (started in 1905), and a special section featuring design-oriented advertisement (1911). 17 Major ad design contests: Mitsukoshi Kōkoku Ishōten (1914) and Fukuoka Nichinichi Shinbun Ishōzuan Konkūru (1917). (See Minami et al. 1965, 133). Major ad-related publications: Gendai shōgyō bijutsu zenshū (24 vols. Tokyo: Arusu, 1928–1929), and Gaitō kōkoku no shinkenkyū (Tokyo: Atoriesha, 1930). (See Ōtani 2005). 18 Ishii 1940, 92, 98; Shufu no Tomosha 1967, 51–52. 37 Gender- and Age-Based Differentiation of Magazine Genres As the magazine publishing industry matured, magazines came to be differentiated according to the gender and age group of their targeted readers. Thus, Jitsugyō no Nihon Sha, for instance, published Jitsugyō no Nihon for adult men (mainly male intellectuals and businessmen), Fujin sekai for adult (mainly well-educated) women, Shōjo no tomo (Girl’s Friend, founded in 1908) for schoolgirls, and Nihon shōnen for schoolboys. As will be explained in detail later, these magazine genres all differed from each other in terms of format, writing and visual style, and themes covered. Interestingly, however, before that, gender had not been the main factor in magazine categorization. While some titles included words such as “jogaku (women’s learning)” (e.g., Jogaku zasshi) and “katei (home)” (e.g., Katei sōdan), appearing to indicate that they were published especially for women and edited differently from magazines for men. Until the end of the nineteenth century, Japanese magazines had been, both thematically and formally, undifferentiated (or, more precisely, not so clearly differentiated) in terms of gender. As for the forms, most articles in these nineteenth-century periodicals, except for the creative essays, that offered a venue for experimentation in various colloquial writing styles (genbun itchi tai), were rendered in a classical writing style called “Meiji common writing (Meiji futsū bun).”19 Similar to “general magazines (sōgō zasshi),” which were to become increasingly associated with male readers, “women’s magazines (fujin zasshi)” contained almost no visuals. 19 Yamamoto M. 1981, 69–74, 89–170. “Meiji common writing” (Meiji futsū bun) is one of the classical writing styles (bungotai) widely used in Meiji Japan until the so-called “colloquial writing styles” (genbun itchi tai) became dominant in the early 20th century. It goes without saying that such seemingly “transparent” writing styles, which appear to transcribe what one utters, are “writing styles” as much as “classical styles.” The implications of genbun itch (lit. “reconciliation of speech and writing”) have been studied in the fields of literary studies and linguistics anthropology. For genbun itch and the formations or discoveries of modern institutions such as landscape and interiority, see Karatani 1993/1983. For the significant linkage between Japan’s national as well as capitalist modernity and linguistic modernity, including the formations and transformations of genbun itch and “women’s language,” see Inoue 2006. For the interrelation between the development of genbun itch, translation, gender and nationalism in the formation of literary styles and cultural hierarchy, see Levy 2010. 38 These pioneering magazines, both “general magazines (sōgō zasshi)” and “women’s magazines (fujin zasshi),” dealt with almost identical themes as well. Analyzing various magazines in the 1880s and 1890s, historical sociologist and scholar of gender studies Muta Kazue concludes that, up until around 1890, magazine content was not clearly divided by gender.20 According to her observation, articles included in early so-called “general magazines,” which later were considered to cater to male intellectuals, were not limited to topics related to the “public sphere,” such as philosophy, politics, economics, arts, and natural sciences; they covered issues concerning family, love-based marriage, domestic chores and the like—themes that later came to be known as “women’s matters.”21 Likewise, magazines that were to be categorized as “women’s magazines” carried articles on both the “public” and “private” spheres and functioned as general intellectual magazines for both sexes. Analyzing the pioneering women’s magazine Jogaku zasshi (Magazine of Women’s Learning), historian Inoue Teruko points out that, on par with the then popular general magazine Kokumin no tomo (Nation’s Friend) edited by famous journalist Tokutomi Sohō, Jogaku zasshi played an important part in “opinion journalism (opinion jānarizumu)” in the 1880s and 1890s. While the magazine was originally edited with the objective of “enlightening” Japanese women, in effect, Jogaku zasshi attracted intellectuals of both sexes and led various social as well as philosophical discussions.22 These early magazines for intellectuals rendered stories on the “public” and “private” issues as “serious” editorials. As we will see later, many critics in the interwar period 20 Arguably, one can further say that magazines were not differentiated by age, either. Contributors to one pioneering weekly writing competition for youth, Eisai shinshi (New Magazine for Geniuses, launched in 1877), for example, initially included students, both male and female, from elementary, secondary, and tertiary educational institutions. On the gender-mixed contributors/readers of this magazine, see Imada 2007, 31–36. 21 Muta 1996, 54–55, 63–65. 22 Inoue T. 1971, 96–137 (especially, 110–112). The magazine was edited by individuals, such as Iwamoto Yoshiharu, who were closely related to one particular Christian girls’ high school, Meiji Jogakkō (Meiji Girls’ High School). Some contributors were also students or alumni of the school. For Jogaku zasshi and Meiji Jogakkō, see Inoue T. 1971 (96–137) and Fujita 1984. 39 favorably recalled the existence of male readers of women’s magazines in the late Meiji Era. From around the end of the century, however, such gender-neutral magazines for intellectuals became increasingly divided in terms of gender, style, and readership. First, thematic distinctions began to appear between magazines for men and those for women. Muta considers the gravity of the shift among magazines emerging around 1890: “general magazines” ceased to run articles on matters regarding the domestic/private sphere; these instead were taken up by the newly established women’s magazines such as Katei (Home, launched by socialist and writer Sakai Toshihiko) and Fujin no tomo (Ladies’ Friend).23 In this sense, the contemporaneous split of Jogaku zasshi into the “red-cover” (aka byōshi, later renamed Bungakukai/Literature World in 1893) and the “white-cover” (shiro byōshi) version was particularly symbolic. While the former was dedicated to creative writings mostly by and for young male intellectuals and became known as a leading literary journal of the day, the latter targeted housewives and their children, mainly dealing with home-related matters.24 Thus, anything related to “family” or “everyday life,” namely, things belonging to “the domestic sphere,” came to appear only in women’s magazines, which, in turn, gradually became regarded as “women’s issues” or “women’s matters.” Muta calls this thematic division among magazines emerging around 1890 the “feminization/privatization of home/domesticity (katei no shika/joseika).”25 Moreover, “women’s matters” gradually came to be discussed with derogative 23 Muta 1996, 62 –63, 65–70. 24 Until then, the magazine was an arena for progressive writers to attempt various new writing systems before colloquial writing styles became officially established (Yamamoto M. 1981, 89–199). 25 Muta 1996, 54. A similar observation concerning periodicals published for children and youth in the Meiji era is presented by social- and media-historian Imada Erika. Examining pioneering magazines for children and youth in the Meiji era, Imada shows that the word “shōnen (lit., minor or juvenile)” had been used to refer to “minors,” regardless gender. Gradually, however, as single-sex education at the secondary and tertiary levels (i.e., after elementary education) was made official by the implementation of the Education Ordinance (kyōiku rei) in 1879, the word “shōjo (girl)” appeared and “shōnen” increasingly came to exclusively refer to “boys.” As a result, while women initially comprised 37% of all contributors to the youth writing competition Eisai shinshi (New Magazine for Geniuses), the rate 40 nuance in public discussions, at least among intellectuals, however serious or useful the overall content and/or intention might have been. As the interwar critical commentaries on the women’s magazine to be examined in Chapter Four show, by the 1920s, it had become considered to be embarrassing for male intellectuals to read (or, more accurately, to openly admit to reading) women’s magazines. Yet, until the beginning of the twentieth century, the “feminization” of the women’s magazine was not firmly established. The articles in women’s magazines were still written mostly in Meiji common writing and usually not accompanied by illustrations, just like those in magazines for men. Besides articles related to domestic chores, women’s magazines also included editorials on “serious” public issues again in a similar manner to the “general” magazines intended for male intellectuals. “Feminization” of the Women’s Magazine Gendered differentiation among magazines intensified in the twentieth century, especially with the foundation of Fujin sekai in 1906. In the interwar period, media critic Kimura Ki reminisced that this shift in women’s magazines put off male readers as they started seeing women’s magazines as “too feminine,” “too vulgar,” “too pragmatic,” and offering nothing for educated men to read, well demonstrating their gendered thematic distinction appearing in the early twentieth century. According to Kimura, Jogaku sekai included “many articles that did not appeal exclusively to particular female interests” and was said to be “readable even by male readers” and “could pass as Chūgaku sekai [a boys’ magazine] if one replaced its cover and illustrations.”26 Gender-based differentiation among magazines can also be observed in the format of the dropped dramatically in the 1880s to a few percent. In this way, minors also became differentiated by gender (Imada 2007, Chapter 1). 26 Kimura 1933/1930, 194. Ogawa 1962 (69–70) also made the same observation. 41 magazines and the style of their articles. The feminine/masculine dichotomy of print culture was also clearly manifest in the adoption of different writing systems. A heavy emphasis on orality was first pioneered by women’s magazines. After decades of struggling to create a new writing style based on everyday utterance to replace the old-fashioned literary style, a new colloquial style finally officially got settled with the first government-designated textbooks compiled in 1903–1904.27 Soon after that, in 1906, Fujin sekai was launched as one of the first periodicals in Japan that was completely based on a colloquial writing style (genbun itchi tai), preceding in these terms the first “national” magazine, Taiyō,28 by a few years, and the major newspapers by a decade.29 Even after almost all magazines adopted the colloquial style, the differentiation between periodicals for male intellectuals and those for “women and children” in their writing styles remained, the implications of which will be analyzed in detail in Chapter Five. The colloquial style practiced in women’s and children’s magazines (desu/masu style) is much closer to the actual spoken language than the style most often deployed in general magazines and newspapers (da/de aru style). On the one hand, the former (desu/masu style) has been used to write texts as if they were being spoken. Heavily relying on deixis—the use of indexical expressions, such as honorifics, ending particles, vocative expressions, interjections, or “here,” or “today,” all denoting meaning dependent on the specific context in which it is used—texts written in desu/masu style establish an intimate, “I–you” relationship between the narrator and the reader, promoting submissions from readers, as I will further explain in detail in Chapter Five.30 The latter writing style (da/de aru style), on the other 27 Yamamoto M. 1981, 655–672. 28 Even in the 1910s, around 10% of bylined articles in Taiyō continuously used the literal/formal “nari/tari” language (or Meiji futsūbun) (Suzuki 1996:86–91). 29 It was only in the 1920s that major newspapers shifted their writing style from literal/formal language to the “da/de aru” colloquial style. (Shashi Hensan Iinkai 1952, 209–212). 30 French linguist Émile Benveniste termed a text written in such a pseudo-objective style “history/story” (histoire), as opposed to “discourse” (discours), a text addressed by a more specific subject in a concrete context (1983/1966–1974, 203–216, 217–233). 42 hand, has less to do with the actual spoken language. Omitting deictic markers almost entirely, it has been conventionally considered to be abstract, objective or detached in tone; thus, it often has been used in “serious” writings such as theses or official documents. Hence, the style of articles in magazines for women or children has been called “subjective” or “vulgar,” as opposed to that of general magazines or newspapers, which was “objective,” “neutral,” or “scientific.”31 The difference between women’s magazines and “general” magazines was visually marked as well. While the front covers of women’s magazines after the turn of the century were often colorfully illustrated with pictures of flowers (later, beautiful women were added), those of general magazines for male intellectuals had only the titles on a plain background. Thus, even at first glance on the bookstore shelves, their appearance was clearly gendered. At the same time, the women’s magazines included increasingly more illustrations and photos accompanying ordinary articles than men’s magazines did, while general magazines maintained their text-oriented style. The implication of gendered demarcation among periodicals is also blatantly stated in the names of the magazine genres. Designation of magazines for male intellectuals as “general-interest magazines (sōgō zasshi)” positioned them as “norm” or “standard” periodicals, while implicitly marking and marginalizing magazines for women as “deviant” from such a norm. In other words, as their designations suggest, so-called “general magazines” presented themselves as “neutral” and “general” periodicals, theoretically open to both sexes regardless of education level or age. In practice, however, they were de facto male elite magazines, attracting mainly highly educated male intellectuals and intellectual wannabes. Women’s magazines were, on the other hand, marginalized as magazines for women, as their genre denomination, “women’s magazines” (fujin zasshi) implied. That is, women’s magazines were not simply understood as a periodical genre of equal standing; rather, they were marked as “deviant” from the standard, “general” magazines. Furthermore, 31 For the development of two colloquial styles, see Yamamoto 1971 & 1981. 43 women’s magazines were not only distinguished as separate from magazines for men; they became regarded as less important than men’s magazines, an issue that will be further discussed in Chapter Four. Thus, in terms of theme, format, style, appellation and evaluation, women’s magazines were differentiated from and devalued in relation to “general magazines.” I would like to call this phenomenon occurring in the beginning of twentieth century before the interwar period “magazine gendering.” Thus, by the late Meiji Era or around 1910, while reading culture had been split into two spheres, namely, the masculine and the feminine, magazine genres became divided by target gender in terms of content, format, and editing style, and the women’s magazine as we understand it today came into being. I call this shift in periodicals the “feminization of women’s magazines.” Emergence of the Mass-Market Women’s Magazine and its Increasing Popularity As briefly described in the Introduction, the women’s magazine maintained its popularity for several decades during the interwar period. This section will trace the development of this particular periodical genre in terms of its circulation, while briefly surveying the shifts in its editorial style, which will be examined in more detail in the following chapters. Increasing Circulation before Kingu Already since around the turn of the century, the women’s magazine as a category was the most popular magazine genre. For example, Jogaku sekai (founded in 1877 by Hakubunkan) had a circulation of 70,000 to 80,000 when the average circulation of a magazine was 2,000 to 3,000.32 The more daily life–oriented Fujin sekai (launched in 1906 by Jitsugyō no Nihon Sha) had a 32 Suzuki 2001, 7. Suzuki’s data itself is based on statistics compiled by the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. 44 circulation of about 300,000 to 400,000 at its peak.33 Considering that Taiyō, the most popular “general magazine” of the time, had a circulation of approximately 100,000, the enormous popularity of women’s magazines is undeniable. In the next decade, the trio of Fujokai,34 Shufu no tomo, and Fujin kurabu emerged as the most popular women’s magazines. The first among them to delve into drastic democratization of content was Fujokai. When he acquired the editorship as well as ownership of Fujokai from his former employer, Dōbunkan, in 1913, Tsugawa Tatsumi undertook the transformation of this once distinctly didactic women’s magazine into a more entertaining one. Thanks to its more mass-oriented feature components, such as popular serial novels and fashion articles, the magazine increased its subscribership; the number reached 210,000 to 220,000 in 1924.35 Shufu no tomo, launched by Tsugawa’s former colleague, Ishikawa Takeyoshi (a.k.a. Takemi), further accelerated the trend toward democratization. The magazine intensively deployed advertisements, a reader-participatory editing style, and heavy visualization with photographs, included more entertainment materials and supplements, and promoted related media events as well as a mixing of media. All of these strategies were typical to mass-market women’s magazines and were followed by Kōdansha’s Fujin kurabu.36 Other kinds of popular magazines paled before the vogue of mass-market women’s magazines. Hashimoto Motomu, who worked as an editor at Kōdansha, recalled that Shufu no tomo had a monthly circulation of 230 to 240,000 around 1924, with Fujokai at 210 to 220,000 and Fujin sekai at 170 to 180,000. Only after these top three “best-selling magazines” came Kōdan kurabu 33 Shimizu and Kobayashi 1979, 53; Kōdansha Shashi Hensan Iinkai 2001, 75; Ogawa 1962, 70–71; Miki 1989, 55. 34 The target audience of Fujokai was “too educated for Fujin sekai, but not sophisticated enough for Fujin no tomo (the magazine edited by Christian intellectual, Hani Motoko)” (Tsugawa 1931, 215). On the main readers of Fujokai, see also the explanation of Fujokai by Yuchi Junko included in Nakajima 1994 (156). 35 Shashi Hensan Iinkai 1959, 609. 36 For more information about the democratization of the Japanese magazine format by interwar women’s magazines, see Maeshima 2009a. 45 (Storytelling Club) with a circulation of 150 to 160,000.37 It should be noted that the top three best-selling magazines were all women’s magazines. Thus, even this popular storytelling magazine, which “sold enormously” at the time, could not reach the popularity of the mass-market women’s magazines.38 By this time, women’s magazines had far surpassed “general magazines” in circulation. For example, the monthly circulation of Chūō kōron was 120,000 in 191939 and dropped drastically in subsequent years; the magazine had a circulation of as few as 20,000 a month in 1927.40 Likewise, another general magazine, Kaizō, which was then known as politically and culturally more progressive, had a circulation of circa 50,000 issues a month before 1927, when it reduced its price to 50 sen, the same price as most mass-market magazines.41 Critic Murofuse Kōshin also stated that the circulation of women’s magazines was several dozen times that of “magazines for men.”42 This commercial success of mass-market women’s magazines was well reflected in the fee paid for manuscripts. According to Kisaki Masaru, an editor of Chūō kōron, the pay for a manuscript from that magazine was six to eight yen, while “women’s magazines paid an extraordinary amount, that is, three to four times as much as general magazines”.43 37 The circulation figures of each magazine are based on Hashimoto Motomu’s statements in a round table talk on publishing history. Hashimoto was working for Kōdansha (Shashi Hensan Iinkai 1959a, 609.) 38 Shashi Hensan Iinkai 1959a, 486. 39 Kisaki 1965, 16. 40 Naimushō Keihokyoku 1979/1927. 41 Makino 1956, 22. 42 Murofuse 1922, 163. Here, from the context of his writing, it can be said that Murofuse’s use of the phrase “magazines for men,” referred to “general magazines” and “specialized [academic] magazines.” For contemporary testimonies to the enormous popularity of the women’s magazine in the 1920s and 1930s, see also Takashima 1922, 59; Kimura Ki 1930/1933, 176, 194–195; Aono 1933, 9; Ōya 1929/1959, 192; Ōya 1935/1959, 247, 254–255. 43 Kisaki 1965, 28. Such highly commercialized publishing circles undermined the idea of “the autonomy of literary practice,” while some writers benefited from this new mass culture, which in turn affected various aspects of contemporary literature (Lippit 2003, 18–19). 46 Increasing Circulation after Kingu The popularity of women’s magazines did not decrease even after the publication of the famous first million copy–selling Japanese magazine, Kingu, in 1925.44 Statistics compiled by the Bureau of Police and Public Security at the Ministry of Home Affairs report that this “national magazine” sold 300,000 issues in 1927, while Shufu no tomo sold 200,000, Fujokai 155,000, and Fujin kurabu 120,000 in the same year.45 To put it another way, three out of the top four best-selling magazines were women’s magazines. Even though all of the women’s magazines may have lost to Kingu in terms of monthly circulation, statistics showed that the women’s magazine as a genre had a much larger circulation than Kingu and other popular magazines in total. A comparison of the mass-market women’s magazines and other kinds of popular magazines would more clearly demonstrate the enormous continuing popularity of these women’s magazines. According to the annual genre-by-genre circulation survey from the major subscription agent, Tōkyōdō, the women’s magazine was the most popular magazine genre from 1929 to 1934, and even after that they sold as much as the “popular magazine” (taishū goraku zasshi), the category including Kingu.46 As the competition among women’s magazines intensified, two emerged as the largest in the genre: namely, Shufu no tomo and Fujin kurabu (Ladies’ Club, launched in 1920 by Kōdansha). Both drew subscribers by putting an emphasis on supplements, special presents, and media events. A survey conducted by a major newspaper, Asahi shinbun, in 1931, indicates that Shufu no tomo had a monthly circulation of 600,000, Fujin kurabu had 550,000, and Fujokai had 350,000.47 Of the 44 With the New Year issue in 1927, Kingu became the first magazine in Japan to gain a circulation of over one million (Satō Takumi 2002, 10–11; Nakamura Takanari 1944, 609; Shashi Hensan Iinkai 1959b, 53). 45 Naimushō keihokyoku 1927/1979. 46 Tōkyōdō Tōkeibu 1935: frontispiece. For example, the annual circulation in 1934 of each magazine genre is as follows in descending order: the women’s magazine 19,750,000; the popular entertainment magazine 18,740,000; the boys’/girls’ magazine 9,740,000; the children’s magazine 7,480,000; the magazine concerning politics, economics, arts, or sciences 4,270,000; the youth magazine 2,180,000. 47 According to the same statistics, circulations of other women’s magazines were as follows: Fujin 47 three, the most popular was Shufu no tomo; each issue of the magazine sold more than one million copies since 1934, and during WWII, circulation reached 1.8 million.48 Comparing the circulation of these women’s magazines with that of contemporaneous major newspapers, one can gain a better picture of the popularity of the former. In 1924, the two largest national newspapers, namely, Ōsaka mainichi shinbun and Ōsaka asahi shinbun, both recorded a circulation of one million for the first time in Japan.49 Estimates suggest that “nearly half of the country’s eleven million households subscribed to a daily paper” around this time.50 Again, numerous contemporary critics noted the wide circulation numbers of the women’s magazines51 as being comparable with nation-wide newspapers. It would not be an exaggeration to say that the women’s magazine was one of the most popular periodical genres nation-wide in interwar Japan. Expansion of Readership of Women’s Magazines among Women As the circulation of mass-market women’s magazines rose, divisions among readers sekai, 120,000; Fujin gahō (Ladies’ Pictorial, founded in 1905), 70 to 80,000; Nyonin geijutsu (Women’s Arts, launched in 1928), 30,000 (Nagashima 1951, 33). 48 Kimura R. 1992, 235. 49 In 1904, the daily gross circulation of the 63 major newspapers in the country was 1,630,000. In 1924, it was estimated at 6,250,000, which indicates that one in 9.28 Japanese people bought a newspaper (Asahi Shinbun Hyakunenshi Henshū Iinkai 1995b, 320; Shashi Hensan Iinkai 1952, 233; Mainichi Shinbun Hyakunenshi Kankō Iinkai 1972, 370–371; Kawakami 1979. For the development of newspapers in Japan, see Yamamoto Taketoshi 1978, 1979, 1981. 50 Duus 1998, 185. 51 See the following comments by critics: “Most current Japanese women’s magazines are published in Tokyo. Some of them have enormous circulations: they are said not only to eclipse all the other kinds of magazines, but also to surpass newspapers in circulation.” (Nii 1931, 267); “The magazine genre in Japan today with the greatest circulation is said to be the women’s magazine.” (Sugiyama 1934/1935, 456) (Sugiyama 1934/1935 [f], 456); “Although related to culture, having the greatest readership, and hence, possessing the greatest influence on the masses, newspapers and women’s magazines seem to have been excluded from critical analysis.” (Nakamura July 1928, 9); “Recently, circulation of magazines has been increasing astoundingly. The popular magazine and the women’s magazine will be their best examples.” (Hayasaka 1930, 119); “The magazines holding the greatest circulation in today’s Japan are the women’s magazine, or the family magazine.” (Sugiyama 1935 [e], 369). More similar comments can be found in the following: Hirabayashi 1927, 71; Chiba et al. 1928, 98; Nakamura Aug. 1928, 6; Naimushō Keihokyoku 1929, X-23 [10ノ 23]; Sugiyama 1934/1935 [b], 118; Sugiyama 1934/1935 [c], 135. 48 according to education level, class, and gender, became increasingly blurred. Partly due to their self-definition as “magazines for housewives,” one would assume that the interwar mass-market women’s magazines had readerships comprised mostly of women, especially middle-aged “housewives” of the middle and lower-middle classes. Statistics of the time, however, present a much wider range of readership than would be expected. Indeed, as is often mentioned in publication history, women’s magazines first boosted their sales among middle-class housewives of city-dwelling white-collar families, rich farmers and merchants from all over the country.52 However, thanks to their new accessible editing style, modern layout, various practical how-to articles, increasing entertainment components, and reader-oriented policies, they spread further among lower-middle-class women and unmarried young women, both in the cities and the countryside.53 For example, based on his detailed empirical studies on readership in the interwar period, Nagamine Shigetoshi concludes that from around 1921 Shufu no tomo rapidly gained popularity among female factory workers (1997, 185). According to an area-by-area survey, the most popular magazine among female members of youth organizations in the country was Shufu no tomo in all the investigated areas (urban, farming, industrial, and fishing).54 This phenomenon is well evidenced by a 1930 article by socialist and feminist activist/writer Yamakawa Kikue.55 Regarding mass-market women’s magazines as “vulgar,” she 52 Maeda 1965, 173–4; Yamamoto T. 1981. 53 See Ariyama 1984; Nagamine 1997, 172–202 (first appeared in Shuppan kenkyū No.19. 1988: 32–69); Kimura R. 1989 and 1992, 231–252, 236. The following studies also observed the mass-market women’s magazine’s wide range of readership among women of the time: Yomo 1995, 11–126, 238; Kitada 1998, 155–179. 54 The survey was held by Dainihon Rengō Joshi Seinendan in 1934 (Nagamine 1997, 200. Figure 5-11). The top two to three periodicals in each region were as follows: in urban areas (493 people were surveyed in total): Shufu no tomo (with 110 subscribers), Fujin kurabu (55), Fujin kōron (30); in farming areas (out of 1365 surveyed): Shufu no tomo (186), Shojo no tomo (108), (Ie no hikari, a popular family magazine for farmers/rural residents, ranked number 4 with 78 subscribers); in industrial areas (out of 344 surveyed), Shufu no tomo (206), Fujin kurabu (57), Shojo no tomo (20); in fishing areas, Shufu no tomo (129), Fujin kurabu (90), Shojo no tomo (48). 55 For details about Yamakawa, see Tsurumi 1996, 258–276. See also Mackie 2002/1997, 84–158. 49 lamented that most female workers at factories were avid readers of women’s magazines such as Shufu no tomo and Fujokai; at one printing house even, all thirteen female workers subscribed to the same “X no tomo” (X’s Friend) [presumably Shufu no tomo]. In addition, Yamakawa urged readers to note that mass-market women’s magazines enjoyed great popularity among women in the occupations of maids, retailers, and small farmers (1930, 110). Participants56 in the round-table discussion entitled “Criticism of Women’s Magazines (Fujin zasshi no hihankai)” in the June 1928 issue of Shinchō stated that the range of readership of current women’s magazines was quite wide and that readers could be found all over the country. Numerous similar observations were made by contemporary commentators.57 If we were to include the less well-to-do readers who rented or circulated magazines in groups, purchased discounted second-hand issues at street stalls, or habitually browsed periodicals at libraries, the readership of mass-market women’s magazines must have amounted to even more than what surveys suggested and been spread across much wider social strata.58 It should be noted that ardent readers of mass-market women’s magazines were not limited to the less-educated or financially underprivileged women. Various statistics concerning the reading habits of office workers and high school girls in the interwar period always listed mass-market 56 The participants are the following contemporary commentators: Chiba Kameo (critic and journalist), Miwada Motomichi (educator), Miyake Yasuko (writer and critic), Nakamura Murao (editor, writer, and critic), Nii Itaru (writer and critic), Satō Haruo (poet, novelist, dramatist and writer), Tokuda Shūsei (novelist), and Yamakawa Kikue (socialist, feminist, and acrivist). It should be noted that, of the eight participants, only two (Miyake and Yamakawa) were women. 57 See, for example, the following comments by critics in Chiba et al. 1928: “In my opinion, the range of readership of present women’s magazines is quite wide.” (Nii 102); “The readers [of the women’s magazine] all over the country are graduates from elementary schools (Miwada 105); “Members in country maiden groups seem to be enlightened by magazines in terms of both culture, taste, and knowledge” (Chiba 105); “Women in the countryside cannot read newspapers every day, having no time to read such a thing in the first place, let alone a book. Therefore, naturally, they read and substitute magazines for both newspapers and books.” (Miyake 105). 58 For the custom of reading circulated or second-hand magazines from the late Taishō era to the early Shōwa era, see Nagamine 2001, 51–93. On the spread of bookshops, libraries, street magazine stalls, rental book shops, newspaper/magazine/novel browsing rooms, see pp. 19–50 of the same book. 50 women’s magazines among their favorite magazines,59 a statistic that was again supported by many contemporary critics.60 Thus, unlike in previous decades, the readership of magazines was no longer neatly divided according to educational level or social class.61 As Nagamine Shigetoshi aptly states, mass-market women’s magazines enjoyed a large readership among women in the interwar period, regardless of class, education, age, and marriage status, while elite women educated in secondary schools and colleges also read other magazines intended for intellectual women, such as Fujin kōron (Ladies’ Review, founded in 1916), in addition to magazines such as Shufu no tomo or Fujin kurabu.62 Expansion of Readership of Women’s Magazines among Men Likewise, it is also noteworthy that mass-market women’s magazines had a considerable number and variety of male readers as well. Critics and researchers of the time furrowed their brows at male readers attracted by the sensational articles in popular women’s magazines—on love affairs, 59 According to Nagamine’s research on readership surveys conducted between 1922 and 1934, the most popular magazines among working women in major metropolitan cities including Tokyo, Nagoya, Hiroshima, Kyoto, and Osaka were, Shufu no tomo and Fujokai, up to the end of Taishō era (from 1922 to 1926), and Shufu no tomo, Fujin kurabu, Fujin kōron, Kingu, Shōjo kurabu, and Fujokai after 1931 (Nagamine 1997, 177–178). Similar surveys held in Tokyo and Akita between 1914 and 1933 reveal that female students of the time favored womens’ magazines such as Shufu no tomo and Fujin kurabu (from the late 1920s, Kingu as well) in addition to various girls’ magazines (Nagamine 1997, 178–179). 60 For example: “Certainly, those in the middle class read them [women’s magazines], but some proletariat may also read and enjoy them” (Satō Haruo’s statement in Chiba et al. 1928, 100). One can find more similar comments in the following: Chiba et al. 1928, 99, 100, 102; Hayasaka 1930, 119; Satō Sumiko 1931, 310; Nii 1931, 273. 61 Similarly, the readership of Kingu spread to a wide range of people. A contemporary critic and educator, Kawai Eijirō lamented that the most favored magazine among both younger students under 18 and senior students under 25 was “the vulgar entertainment magazine” Kingu (Kawai 1937, 441. His comments are on the statistical survey by six major libraries in Tokyo in 1934). Journalist Ōya Sōichi also pointed out this phenomenon (Ōya 1936, 207). Observing this, philosopher Miki Kiyoshi criticized high-school students reading “only as low as Kingu outside of their school assignments” by calling them “Kingu students (Kingu gakusei).” Miki stated that such students increased after the Manchurian Incident in 1931 (Miki K. 1937, 158). 62 Nagamine 1997, 189. 51 romances, celebrity scandals and the like.63 There even appeared a special feature of essays from various intellectuals on women’s magazines entitled “Women’s Magazines and Sexual Articles (Fujin zasshi to seiyoku mondai)” in the June 1928 issue of Chūō kōron, a prestigious “general magazine” of the time that remains so today. The following is an excerpt from a round-table discussion on the “problems” concerning women’s magazines, appearing in the June 1928 issue of another magazine for intellectuals, Shinchō. Miwada: I have no idea about their percentage, but there are men among the readers of women’s magazines. And these male readers are fond of sexual issues, so the magazines puts such articles in them. It would be a shame for only the women to take the blame for this. […] Nakamura: Are there women who showed interest in them [=the magazines including sex-related articles]? Tokuda: Rather men, I think. Chiba: Some of them should be men. […] Miyake: More male readers than female ones would read such articles. Chiba: I think so. (Chiba et al. 1928, 100, 109, 120) However, male readers were not enticed solely by the sexually sensational stories of women’s magazines. As detailed at the end of this chapter, some contemporary male critics confessed that, although most male readers “borrowed” the magazines and did not dare to buy them themselves, they enjoyed reading such components of mass-market women’s magazines as serialized novels, practical how-to articles, advice columns, informative articles on illness, child-raising, cooking, 63 For example, Chiba et al. 1928, 99, 100, 109; Nii 1931, 273. 52 fashion, human relations, socialization and etiquette, human-interest stories, and various features on entertainment.64 Male readers were not restricted to young (school) students, either. According to a survey in 1930, male students at a secondary school in Tokyo (Honjo Kōtō Shōgakkō/ Honjo Higher Elementary School) listed mass-market women’s magazines such as Fujin kurabu, Shufu no tomo, Fujokai, and Fujin sekai as periodicals that they had read since their enrollment at the school.65 Likewise, data concerning readers at Asakusa Library in Tokyo ranked Shufu no tomo and Fujin kurabu the top tenth and eleventh most-browsed magazines respectively in 1924, and not a few of the browsers were male. With a note of surprise, the surveyor pointed out that male readers of such mass-market women’s magazines were not limited to young men, but, rather, they also included a considerable number of white-collar workers such as office clerks or bankers.66 In this respect, media scholar Sakata Kenji’s speculation is worth noting. Considering the highly technical and scientific articles on radio appearing in popular women’s magazines in the 1920s, he deduces the possible existence of male readers of these periodicals.67 Moreover, numerous letters and reader contributions from men appearing in these magazines supported the theory that this magazine genre attracted male readers (see Chapter Five). Of course, being edited and possibly sometimes even written by professional writers, all the texts in these magazines were mediated and should not be taken at face value; readers’ contributions and letters are no exception. Still, their repeated appearance implies that male readers did exist, or more accurately, at least the possibility 64 Komaki 1927, 68; Hiratsuka 1928, 83; Chiba et al. 1928, 120; Naimushō keihokyoku 1929, X-23; Hirano 1930, 3; Kimura Ki 1930/1933, 176, 193 – 196; Sugiyama 1934/1935, 119 – 120; Tosaka 1937, 343. 65 According to a 1930 survey taken at Tokyo Municipal Honjo Higher Elementary School (Tōkyō-shi Honjo Kōtōshōgakkō), (male) students had read the following magazines since entering the school, 251 students listed Fujin kurabu, 154, Shufu no tomo, 153, Fujokai, 90, Fujin sekai, and 12, Fujin gahō (Nagamine 1997, 187–188. Statistics originally appeared in Toshokan zasshi No. 122 Jan. 1930, 10–11. 66Nagamine 1997, 193–194 (the statistics are based on the survey appearing in Shiritsu toshokan to sono jigyō No. 28, March 1925). 67 Sakata 2002, 162–175. 53 of their existence was considered to be trustworthy in interwar Japan to the extent that such contributions from male readers were understood to be real by the readers. The Socio-Cultural Contexts Spread of Literacy In considering the factors behind the enormous popularity of mass-market women’s magazines in the given period, one has to turn one’s eyes to the socio-historical contexts that made large-scale publication, especially that of these popular women’s magazines, possible. In addition to the nation-wide systematization of publication, distribution, and advertising as we have already reviewed, another factor that could have led to the expansion of readership of mass-market women’s magazines was surely the increase in literacy brought about by compulsory education. The Fundamental Code of Education of 1872 required all children, both boys and girls, to attend school for four years. In 1907, the period of compulsory attendance was raised to six years and by 1910 almost all children were completing the state-mandated education.68 According to governmental statistics, the elementary school enrolment ratio of both sexes already topped 95 percent.69 Female school attendance rates also improved around the turn of the century. In 1873, 15.14% of girls were enrolled in elementary school, a statistic that jumped to 59.04% in 1899, and 91.46 % in 1904. This shows a rapid increase in literacy among women. Similarly, the number of women receiving secondary education after elementary school also grew; there were 2,363 students at girls’ high schools in 1887, 8,857 in 1899, and 40,273 in 1907.70 Due to the increasing number of readers, newspapers and the popular press flourished from the 1920s. With 1,100 newspapers in 68 Hunter 1985, 29. 69 Monbushō Chōsakyoku 1962. 70 Miki 1989, 53–54. According to statistics from the Nihon Joshi Daigaku Joshi Kyōiku Kenkyūjo ed. 1967. 54 circulation in 1920, estimates suggest that “nearly half of the country’s eleven million households subscribed to a daily paper.”71 Limited Budget for Entertainment Arguably, the limited entertainment budget of the average household also contributed to the great popularity of mass-market women’s magazines. From readers’ contributions to articles on family finance appearing in Shufu no tomo between 1917 and 1929, one researcher calculated that the average middle-class household during the given period, with its average monthly income circa 67.5 yen (in the Taishō era) and 98.9 yen (in the Shōwa era), could subscribe to one to two magazines in addition to a newspaper.72 Since upper- and middle-class families were presumably only a portion of the population, it is likely that the average household in Japan then barely bought one magazine per month. On such meager budgets, it was natural for most ordinary people to choose as their monthly entertainment a popular women’s magazine with various interesting articles and numerous photos. Mass-market women’s magazines were the most voluminous, covering the widest variety of topics, and the most affordable mass-market periodicals in Japan at that time. So-called “general magazines” for intellectuals were too serious in content to read for relaxation. Nor did other kinds of popular magazines provide the ordinary household with suitable enjoyment. Certainly, they did include entertaining elements, as will be shown in the next chapter. Yet, most of them specialized in only a few kinds of writing or specific topics. Large-format pictorial magazines might have become the most popular periodicals in other countries at the time. In Japan, however, they were too thin and too expensive for an average household to subscribe to regularly in addition to a newspaper. 73 71 Duus 1998, 185. 72 Kimura 1992, 235. 73 For more on the characteristics of each magazine genre, see Chapter Three. 55 Comparing their format to the structure of the then novel department store type, some contemporaneous critics pinpointed the diversity of components in women’s magazines as one of the factors that attracted their readers.74 Changing Lifestyle and the Craze for “Culture” Still, increasing literacy and a limited entertainment budget alone could not account for the extraordinary popularity of mass-market women’s magazines among various strata of people. Particularly when it comes to highly educated readers, most of whom were from fairly wealthy families, these two factors do not provide sufficient explanation for why they were attracted to interwar mass-market women’s magazines. To elucidate this, one needs to pay attention to the transformation of people’s lifestyles as well as the craze for a “home” or “modern family.” After the Meiji Restoration75 in 1868, modernization in Japan intensified to catch up with the other powerful Anglo-European nation-states. This Japanese modernization project was first started by the government under the slogan “Rich Country, Strong Army” (fukoku kyo_hei). “Between 1912 and 1932, real national income per capita more than doubled, and living standards rose as well.”76 During this period, the urban population grew and urban culture developed. Advancements in industry, transportation systems, education, and capitalism gradually shifted the focus of modernization from a state-led “Westernization” project through bourgeois “cosmopolitanism” to consumerist “mass culture.” The transition from the Meiji era (1868–1912) to the Taishō era (1912–1926) is considered the point when society’s primary concern shifted from “civilization/public” to 74 Miyake’s statement in Chiba et al. 1928, 103; Sugiyama 1934/1935b, 120; Ōya 1935, 17. 75 Several elements of modernization, such as reliable channels of communication and commerce, urban culture, print culture, and high literacy, had already been in place in Japan before its full opening to the world in the mid-nineteenth century. However, after the Meiji Restoration in 1868, spurred a more intense period of modernization. 76 Duus 1998, 185. 56 “culture/private.”77 Increasingly more often urban upper- and middle-class people wore Western clothes, ate Western food, such as bread and coffee, lived in rooms with carpets, curtains, easy chairs, coffee tables, and floor lamps, and enjoyed movies, musicals, radio programs (started in 1925), visits to beer halls or Western cafes, and shopping in department stores. More adventurous young people enjoyed Japan’s version of the Jazz Age; they were fond of listening to jazz and dancing at dance halls. Now it became quite common for Tokyoites with some income to go out to Ueno to visit museums or amusement parks, or to Ginza to shop at the Mitsukoshi department store, watch movies, enjoy performances at the Imperial Theatre, and have fruit parfaits at confectionery cafés like Senbikiya or Shiseidō Parlor. Various new leisure activity services and mass media entertained people and offered new job opportunities. “White-collar workers” (sararī man) appeared and young middle-class women went out to work as teachers, telephone operators, shop clerks, secretaries, bus conductors, bus guides, or cafe waitresses.78 Urbanization of the areas within and around Tokyo accelerated and the urban lifestyle increasingly diverged from that of the past. It was especially so in the period after the Great Kanto Earthquake in 1923. The devastated Tokyo was drastically reconstructed into a modern capital city. Various movements and trends to “improve” or “refine” home life and home culture appeared during the Taishō and early Shōwa eras.79 Together with this, the government started establishing public services and support for survivors to promote a rational, efficient, modern family lifestyle by operating supermarkets where consumers did not need to bargain, and by holding numerous 77 Minami 1965, 35–59. Minami’s view of the change from Meiji to Taishō has been widely shared by scholars, including Harootunian (1974) and Lippit (2002), although the latter two focused mainly on the shift among intellectuals. 78 Unless particularly specified, historical accounts in this section mainly derive from Minami and Shakai Shinri Kenkyūjo 1965 and 1987. See also Silverberg 2006. 79 Minami 1965, 48–59; Sukenari 2003; and Kurihara 2003. 57 exhibitions featuring “the modern family,” “modern child-raising,” “modern housekeeping,” and so on. Such attempts to advocate a modern lifestyle and massive urbanization of Tokyo also had a symbolic impact on people in other areas of the country.80 Originally, such public services and events were launched as an attempt to educate ordinary people about the modern lifestyle with an emphasis on frugality in regard to entertainment and convenience services. However, as the terrible aftermath of the earthquake abated, the emphasis shifted to the promotion of a consumer lifestyle. In order to stimulate economic activity, the government was first compelled to familiarize people with purchasing not only quality goods at fashionable department stores, but also everyday commodities at stores or supermarkets based on their own “rational” judgments and decisions, rather than “passively” buying from delivery men. With the emerging commercialization and developments in advertising, this new practice of consumption gradually took root in the society. Thus, the consumer as we understand it today emerged.81 Whereas most men of the new middle class were graduates of high schools or colleges and obtained jobs in the cities as bureaucrats, office workers, or clerks, women of this class who were also well educated at girls’ high schools or, less commonly, at women’s colleges, were supposed to get married to become full-time housewives after completing their education, or obtaining a few years’ experience in jobs outside of the home. These members of the emerging white-collar class led their private lives in “culture houses (bunka jūtaku),” a mixture of Western and Japanese homes, in the suburbs. The urban entertainments and facilities enticing consumers, such as department stores and theme parks, catered to and fostered the modern family’s needs.82 80 Koyama 1999, Kon 1987/1925, Jordan 2003. 81 Koyama 1999, 67–109, esp. 86–88; Maeshima 2012, 2014. 82 Sand 2003 and Silverberg 1991. On Taishō cosmopolitanism and culturalism, see Harootunian (1974) and Pincus (1996). On “the cultured life” in the Taishō era, see Sand (2000, 99–118). On the I-novel, see Suzuki (1996). 58 Craving Information Concerning the “Modern Family” and the “Home” Growing interest in “home life (katei seikatsu)” and “home culture (katei bunka)” would be another factor that gave vogue to these women’s magazines. The Taishō era was also a time when the concept of a Western-style “home (katei),” as differentiated from the perceived pre-existing Japanese “family system (ie or ie seido),” first materialized in Japan, if partially, with the new middle class, which emerged due to the expansion of industry.83 While the ideal of the modern family/home was still a rather novel concept even in Europe and North America,84 its image spread in quite a limited time period in Japan, which had to experience rapid modernization. Indeed, modern life as a concept had already appeared earlier in the late nineteenth century (Meiji era). Intellectuals conceptualized a Japanese version of modern family life by blending and modifying the Western—mostly, but not limited to, British and North American—ideal modern family with some conventional Japanese family life, especially that of the upper-middle samurai class (bushi; strictly speaking, “shizoku” or “former samurai class” since the Meiji era). Already in the 1880s and early 1890s, the idea of a modern family and “home,” based mostly on the British model, was discussed and often applauded by intellectuals in various “general magazines.” The ideal image of such a family consisted of a heterosexual couple and their children, who were intimately bound by affection rather than by familial roles. This idea was symbolized in family activities such as savoring meals together at a table over cheerful conversation, happily celebrating each others’ birthdays and family or seasonal events, and occasionally enjoying respectable leisure activities.85 83 See Inuzuka 1989 and Koyama 1991, 1999. 84 Senda 2002. For the spread and development of the concept of “modern family” and “home” in general, see the following as well: Inuzuka 1989a, 1989b; Koyama 1991, 1999; Horie 1991; Ueno 1994; Muta 1996, 51–77; Satō 2001; Nishikawa 2002; Kurihara 2003. 85 The above-mentioned “home exhibitions” and “children’s exhibition” invited visitors to be informed as well as to experience such modern leisure suitable for an ideal modern family (Koyama 1999, 49–57). 59 Husbands were now known as breadwinners and wives, “housewives,” that is, specialists in the domestic sphere.86 It was not until the mid-1910s, however, when such a modern lifestyle in Japan was first realized thanks to the emerging new middle class as I briefly mentioned above. Due to high living costs, a reduced infant mortality rate, and the newly developed ideal of the modern family, urbanites and suburbanites in all social strata, whether native-born or immigrants from the countryside, gradually shifted toward the lifestyle of the nuclear family. The standard of this new form of family consisted of a heterosexual couple and an increasingly smaller number of children as its constituent members, which differs greatly from the lifestyle based on the extended family that had hitherto been the norm.87 With the number of children per household decreasing, people started paying more attention to their children. As historian Koyama Shizuko observes, such heightened attention to children also included a growing interest in the culture of the “modern nuclear home” with children as its center. In this connection, one can observe numerous publications of so-called “children-oriented magazines” during the interwar period. Unsatisfied with the existing overtly didactic, moralistic, and “vulgar” children’s magazines such as Shōnen sekai (1895–1933) and the stories compiled as a series in Tachikawa bunko (1914–1924), novelist Suzuki Miekichi founded Akai tori (Red Bird; 1918–1928, 1932–1936) in 1918. Including “plain, yet refined writings” by professional novelists, poets, and writers, as well as submissions from children themselves, this magazine attempted to nurture 86 Creation of new entertainment appropriate for such modern families was also attempted. For instance, Tsubouchi Shōyō exerted himself to establish “family dramas” to be played at home and founded the Kōtō engeijō (Higher Theater) to “refine” an existing vaudeville theater into a family leisure facility at the end of the Meiji era, that is, around the turn of the century (Minami Hiroshi and Shakai Shinri Kenkyūjo 1965, 51–54). 87 On the gradual formation of the ideal “modern family” in Japan and the social conditions that allowed for the idea to spread and be embodied in society, see Senda (2002) and Ochiai (2002). 60 children’s artistic sensitivity and creativity, opening up a new age of children’s periodicals.88 Behind this was a current of thought that aimed to overcome the cult of success (“risshin shusse” or “success in life”) in the previous period. Instead, intellectuals, especially educators in Japan during the interwar period, tried to shift their focus concerning children from promoting social success to respecting children’s own thoughts, feelings, and creativity. One can say that such a trend emerged with the influence of pacifism and liberalism in interwar Europe as well as from philosophers such as Ellen Key (1849–1926) or John Dewey (1859–1952).89 From the mid-1920s, magazines appeared that promoted children’s writings based more on their own everyday life experiences ([seikatsu] tsuzurikata) than such refined submissions as were found in Akai tori. The promotion of children’s own writings became intensified and the early Shōwa era saw the launch of magazines such as Tsuzurikata seikatsu (1929) and Hoppō kyōiku (1930), which encouraged children to write less academic or art-oriented and more down-to-earth, everyday-life-oriented writings than those recommended in Akai tori.90 Besides the world of literature, diverse events featuring modern family life, often focusing on children, were held by private enterprises during the interwar period, all of which, again, allowed ideal images of modern life and the modern family to penetrate society. Several researchers point out that, with its various displays of nicely decorated and furnished spaces, a department store such as Mitsukoshi functioned as a kind of model room that provided visitors with a concrete example of “good taste” as defined by the middle-class modern family life in the West, while it also offered an opportunity for them to experience a voyeuristic pleasure of peeping into this kind of life and to 88 Nihon Jidō Bungaku Gakkai 1976, 56. 89 As a result, not intimidating, “children-centered” education was insisted by the participants in Eight Major Educational Thesis Lectures (Hachidai kyōiku shuchō) in 1921 and the foundation of private schools based on such theories including Seijō Shōgakkō (1917), Jiyū Gakuen (1921), Bunka and Gakuin (1921) (Yamazumi 1987, 91 – 117). 90 On various movements to promote children’s writings, see Takamori 1979, 149; Satō Manabu (1996, 36); Kawaji (2007, 1 – 14). 61 satisfy their desire for visual appropriation of diverse modern lifestyles as well as intriguing objects.91 Thus, a department store was, in a sense, a pleasure land for the modern family, where all family members could spend the whole day.92 In addition, a variety of family- or children-related events was also organized by major department stores and newspapers. Typical examples of such activities were the children’s and family exhibitions. To give several examples, there was the annual spring Children’s Exhibition held at Mitsukoshi department store (from 1909 to 1915);93 the Family Exhibition held in Tokyo in 1915 by Kokumin shinbun newspaper; the Women and Children’s Exhibition in Osaka in 1919 presented by Osaka Asahi shinbun newspaper; the Children’s Exhibition, in Tokyo and Kyoto in 1926, by Tokyo Nichi nichi shinbun/ Osaka Mainichi shinbun; and the International Women and Children’s Exhibition in Tokyo in 1933 by Tokyo Nichi nichi shinbun. These events, even those named “Children’s Exhibitions,” in fact presented various kinds of exhibitions and activities for both children and their parents.94 For example, at the Children’s Exhibitions organized in Tokyo and Kyoto by a major national newspaper in 1926, there were facilities for adults, such as an Education Hall, Mothers’ Hall, and Health Advisory Office, as well as spaces for children, such as a Toy Hall, Clothes Hall, Children’s Room, and Play Room. Special events held during the exhibition, including Calpis (a popular beverage) Day, Sweets Day, Toy Day, Milk Day, and Shōchiku Cinema Day, were apparently intended to promote specific commodities. 91 Jinno 1994, Hatsuda 1999. Department stores also established various study groups, which came to generate new fashion and leisure based on such “good taste.” 92 Jinno 1994, 55. 93 For children’s exhibitions mentioned here, see Jinno (1994, 164 – 172); Nakamura (1997, 215-225); Ōshima (2002, 43 – 66). Koresawa (2008, 39 – 46). Before Mitsukoshi’s attempt, the first Japanese children’s exhibition had already been held in Tokyo and Kyoto in 1906, influenced by Paris’ example in 1901 (Koresawa 1995, 159-165; Nakamura 1998, 223-235). See also Koresawa (1997, 2008) for children’s exhibitions in general. 94 An article on Children’s Exhibition in 1926 reads “This ‘Children’s Exhibition’ is an exhibition for children as well as for parents.” (“Kodomo hakurankai an’nai.” Sandē Mainichi Jan. 17th, 1926: 6) (Ōshima 2007, 184 – 185). 62 Researchers Yoshimi and Ōshima pointed out the deep relationship between such family/children-oriented events and consumer culture.95 Thus, an increasing focus on children meant an increasing focus on everyday culture of the children-oriented nuclear family.96 Other leisure activities, such as listening to radio programs and watching shows of the Takarazuka Revue Company, then originated in part to promote the ideal modern family life,97 while many of them are not associated specifically with children or family leisure activities now. Though some of these “family” leisure activities such as Takarazuka gradually became less “family” traits and instead grew into leisure activities in general, it was this craving for a new family lifestyle with some cultural activities that first attracted a wide 95 Yoshimi 1992, 162; Ōshima 2007, 185. 96 Koyama 2002. See also Koyama (1999, Chapter 4). 97 Though it is almost forgotten today, radio programs were originally expected to provide families with leisure at home. People were expected to listen together to programs after dinner and talk about them with each other, which was supposed to promote mutual bonding (Sakata 2002, 162–175). Even the all-female Takarazuka Revue Company, whose shows are now known to attract mainly avid female fans, was originally founded in 1913 as a “national opera” to offer a modern, fashionable, yet refined leisure activity for families. (For more on the Takarazuka Revue Company, see Robertson 1998; Watanabe 1999; Kawasaki 1999; 2005). This original intended function is clearly indicated in the location and surroundings of the theater. It was constructed by industrialist Kobayashi Ichizō as part of a modern residential suburb along the railway he ran (Minoo Arima Denkidō or Minoo Arima Electric Tramway, present Hankyū Railway). Located near a spa in Takarazuka, the theater provided people with holiday leisure living in suburban homes bought through installment sales along the railway to enjoy theatrical plays or revues, in the same way as they might go shopping at a huge department store at the terminal station in Umeda, Osaka (Tsuganezawa 1991). In fact, a survey shows that those who visited the theater in 1930 included quite a few men, both young and old. A survey entitled “Takarazuka moderunorojio (modernologio)” appearing in the September 1930 issue of Kageki reported that there were eight shows at Takarazuka Theater between August 4th and 10th in 1930 with 194 audience members, 72 of whom were young men, constituting the majority, followed by 52 young women, 27 middle-aged women, 16 middle-aged men, 5 girls younger than 15, 13 much younger girls, 7 boys, and 2 old ladies (Watanabe 1999, 50 – 51). “Moderunorojio (modernologio)” is referring to the method of field survey of people’s actual conditions started by Kon Wajirō and Yoshida Kenkichi in the 1920s, which was also called “Kōgengaku.” For Moderunorojio or Kōgengaku, see Satō Kenji (1986) and Kawazoe (2004). Such modern suburban life seems to have been modeled on the contemporary British idea of the “garden city.” A book, Den’en toshi (Garden city), compiled by the government official (Naimushō Chihōkyoku Yūshi ed. 1907) soon introduced Ebenezer Howard’s To-Morrow:A Peaceful Path to Real Reform, a book published in 1898 (rev. ed., Garden Cities of To-Morrow. 1902). The deterioration of environmental conditions in London due to industrialization compelled intellectuals to develop the ideal of the “garden city,” which was also influenced deeply by the utopian philosophies of John Ruskin and William Morris. On the similarities between the Japanese suburban city planning and the British city garden, see Takemura (2004, 232). 63 variety of people to the women’s magazines, which were filled with related information and continuously offered readers a formidable image of modern family and home. The Media and the Spread of the Idea of the “Modern Home Life” While such modern lifestyle and leisure were first realized among the upper- and upper-middle classes in the cities, they were not strictly limited to such a narrow stratum of people. First of all, the tendency toward modernization in lifestyle was not limited to people living in big cities such as Tokyo and Osaka. One document describes that there was a trend among young people in small villages in 1930s Yamanashi to go to Kōfu city (the capital of Yamanashi prefecture) for movies or to visit the cafés.98 The establishment of a public transportation system, including national railways, and of various means of communication such as newspapers, magazines, mail, telephone, telegram, and, later, radio, as well as the intensification of diverse advertising methods promoted the mobility of people, goods, and information.99 As Vera Mackie concludes in her survey of Japanese modernity of the 1920s, “[b]eing modern in 1920s Japan involved the embodied practices of everyday life.”100 Lifestyles among the underprivileged also changed under the influence of modernization. Presumably, mass media contributed to the spread of information about “model” lifestyles and ideal life philosophies among their participants, readers, or listeners. Needless to say, indeed, the number of people who were actually able to realize such a modern life was still limited. The interwar period was also a time when the disparity among social strata as well as in the various regions intensified. The miserable conditions of the slums and poverty in the countryside motivated intellectuals such as Kon Wajirō and Kagawa Toyohiko to discuss and research their own lives (kōgengaku/modernologio, 98 Tazaki 1985, 182. 99 Minami Hiroshi and Shakai Shinri Kenkyūjo eds. 1965. 100 Mackie 2000, 196. 64 nōson mondai/rural problems) and sometimes even to provide various services to those in need in the form of “settlement houses.” 101 Nevertheless, the idea of “modern family life,” if not its realization in actual everyday life, arguably spread in society to a considerable extent. It was especially so in the urban areas. A comprehensive, detailed, empirical study by Nakagawa Kiyoshi on the lives of people on the wrong side of the tracks in the cities suggests that even the lives of the poorest urbanites clearly showed inclinations toward a modern nuclear family lifestyle with occasional urban leisure. Analyzing contemporary statistical data, which shows a steady increase of miscellaneous expenditure and a decreased percentage in food spending (Engel’s coefficient), Nakagawa argued that the poor, most of whom were immigrants from other regions, did enjoy movies or theater-going, just as the “respectable” upper- and lower-middle classes did in the same period, although to a different degree and with different content.102. As people’s lifestyles changed in the urban areas, and their desire and aspiration for information about modern home life grew, if differently, in both cities and the countryside across social classes, local and conventional practices of housekeeping and child care came to be regarded as less appropriate for the modern family lifestyle, which is epitomized in the increasing publication of how-to manuals and advisory books.103 Increasingly detached from traditional lifestyles, some 101 A reformist socialist movement known as “setsurumento undō (settlement movement).” For Kon, see Sukenari 2003; Kawazoe 2004. For Kagawa, see Bikle 1976. 102 Nakagawa K. 1985, 382–392. See also Chimoto 1990, 187–228. Some further deprived people, whether living in the urban areas or the countryside, may have attempted to “realize” such a lifestyle at least in their imaginations. Analyzing contemporary reader surveys, Nagamine pointed out that mass-market women’s magazines, full of consumerist articles, had factory female workers and women in the countryside among their readers, thanks to the group purchase or retailers of second-hand or old magazine issues (1997, 172–202). Arguably, their severe conditions of life compelled them to read women’s magazines: here, reading functioned as a way to escape from reality. Yet, as contemporary commentator and editor Satō Sumiko speculated (1930, 309), such a craving for a modern, utopian lifestyle may have further depressed their readers, making them face anew the difference between such an ideal lifestyle and their own, which may well have increased their discontent. For discrepancies between the countryside and the urban areas, see Havens (1974) and Tamanoi (1998). 103 In a sense, people’s craving for practical information about the modern lifestyle enabled the young entrepreneur Ishikawa Takeyoshi to launch his publishing business. Thanks to the huge success of a series of practical books, one on “savings (chokin)” (1916) and the others on “easy, delicious, 65 even literally physically so, people relied on the “scientific” and “rational” instructions of specialists in order to survive in the ever-changing, individualized, and competitive modern society. Despite the intermittent economic turmoil after the First World War in 1918 and the Great Kanto Earthquake in 1923, or rather, perhaps, because of that, people’s demand for information as to how to realize, even only partially, a modern way of living within a limited budget grew.104 Thus, living in cities or even in towns increasingly required up-to-date information about new life strategies in order to survive in the modernized society. The growth in publication of city guides, job ads, manner books, child-raising guides, and the like attests to such demand. Women’s magazines were the periodicals that included the most such practical information about modern daily life.105 Beyond the “Women’s Magazine”: Transfeminization of the Women’s Magazine Articles in women’s magazines concerning home life directly accommodated such trends of the times. For those who could not realize the complete set of activities described as typical of the ideal “modern life” or “modern family,” articles in women’s magazines taught their readers how to practice certain parts of such activities. Even if they could not adopt these partial practices into their real lives, they could still enjoy women’s magazines as entertainment, which offered them the opportunity to realize such activities in their imaginary worlds, and which arguably further nurtured economical food (tegaru de umai keizai ryōri)” (1918), he gained 500 yen, enough capital to launch and continue a new business publishing a monthly, Shufu no tomo (Tsugawa 1930, 397; Shufu no tomosha 1967, 32–34). 104 When the economic situation in the society was not healthy, practical articles appearing in women’s magazines emphasized “frugality (ken’yaku),” or an “economical (keizai-teki)” manner of consumption. On the other hand, when the situation became better, they stressed a wise and up-to-date way of consumption. In either case, pursuit of a better, modern life through consumption itself was not discouraged, but, rather, recommended as desirable, although, in the latter case, the emphasis tended to focus on the consumption itself (Koyama 1999, Chapter 3; Maeshima 2012). 105 On the need for practical information about modern lifestyles in the society, particularly, home-related publications, see Kimura R. 1992, 231–252; Koyama 1999, 37–49; Silverberg 2006, Chapter 4 (143–174). 66 their craving for such ideals. Letters from readers, both men and women, posted in women’s magazines, testify to the prevalence of this inclination toward home life/culture; they often mention how the writer enjoyed everyday home activities such as cooking, cleaning, knitting, child-raising, and chatting in the living room (see Chapter Five). In fact, there are many “practical articles” both overtly and covertly targeting male readers (or married couples) in interwar mass-market women’s magazine. To take some examples from Shufu no tomo, for the former cases, one can see articles entitled “Tsuma kara otto he no chūmon 20 ka jō (Twenty demands from wives to husbands)” (April 1917, 82–85) or “Danshi no yōfuku to fuzokuhin no ryūkō (Trendy male clothes and accessories)” (May 1923, 232–235). Advice columns also received inquiries from male readers. For instance, in one letter, a male (“Mr. M”) inquired about the legalities of compelling his wife, who insisted on living separately from him, to return to his/their house (January 1923, 260), while Mr. F asked a medical doctor about the safety of a certain sleeping drug (February 1923, 213). Even advice sections on cosmetics or fashion seemed to attract male readers. A certain “young man” asked the professional columnist for information about medicine to soften his beard or a recommendation for a chemical depilatory, because his beard was so tough that his skin always bled when he shaved (March 1924, 293). A seemingly fashion-conscious man “Jun’ichi” made an inquiry as follows: “What kind of belt do I need for a black rubashka shirt [a kind of Russian-style shirt]? Could you tell me where I can buy one?” (May 1924, 306). Articles on social manners and human relationships were especially popular components among male readers: there are many letters from them thanking the editors for those articles and telling them that they enjoyed the women’s magazines together with their female family members (wives, sisters and so on), as well as with other men or women in the neighborhood.106 106 For example from early issues of Shufu no tomo, see July 1919, 158; September 1919; Nov. 1920, 158–159. As some letters from men reveal (Nov. 1920, 158–159), the contemporary custom practiced in some families of men selecting readings for their female family members also indirectly helped turn 67 Male intellectuals were no exception. As we will see more in Chapter Four, some intellectuals and writers confessed that they were fond of women’s magazines. Some enjoyed the novels that were published in these magazines. Sugiyama Heisuke complained that current serialized novels appearing in women’s magazines were not as enjoyable as they used to be.107 This implies that he read women’s magazines frequently enough to make such a judgment. Others found practical articles in the magazines entertaining. Komaki Ōmi and Nakamura Murao wrote that they enjoyed reading practical articles in women’s magazines on fashion, food, child raising, washing, seasonal diseases, and that they learned from them as well as being amused by them.108 The social ardor for modern home life, therefore, even drew back the male readers who had once stepped away from these magazines when they became “feminized” in terms of style and content. The editors of the interwar popular women’s magazines were well aware of this social trend and took advantage of it in order to widen their readership. While usually using the ordinary term “women’s magazines (fujin zasshi)” to refer to their magazines and never abandoning that self-designation, quite often they also called them “home magazines (katei zasshi)” to be read by both men and women, a practice observed among contemporary commentators.109 In the words of contemporary philosopher Tosaka Jun, interwar mass-market women’s magazines were “general [entertainment] magazines called ‘women’s magazines’” (1937, 345). Thus, developments in printing technology, the systematization of publishing related industries, increasing literacy and limited entertainment budgets, together with the craze for a “home” with a cultural life, contributed to the enormous popularity of mass-market women’s magazines involving avid male and female readers. Yet, one cannot say that these magazines became their eyes to women’s magazines. 107 Sugiyama 1934/1935, 119 – 120. 108 Komaki 1927, 68; Nakamura Aug. 1928, 8. 109 Chiba et.al 1928, 112; Sugiyama 1935, 369; Ishikawa 1940, 109, 121, 309 – 311; Ishikawa 1944, 5, 68, 105, 182, 197. 68 “defeminized,” or freed of gendered hierarchical markers. As will be discussed in the next two chapters, their content, format, and styles of editing and promotion were still considered to be “feminine,” hence socially “deviant.” The very term “women’s magazine” eloquently describes the lingering discursively gendered, hierarchical division among periodicals. The femininity implied in the magazine categories was not simply a gendered differentiation from masculine categories. Since around the turn of the century, when the women’s magazine became “feminized,” it was also strongly tied with a diminished evaluation, with respect to the masculine, as a magazine genre within the publishing hierarchy. Still, this “feminine” periodical genre attracted a variety of readers, including men. It would be more appropriate to say, then, that the above-mentioned socio-cultural contexts “transfeminized” women’s magazines. Retaining their “feminine” traits, their purportedly subordinate status, and their self-designation as periodicals for women, interwar mass-market women’s magazines now functioned as general home entertainment magazines, reaching a wide range of readers across gender, age, marital status, and social class—arguably, a much wider range of readers than any other periodical genres, including magazines considered to be for men. 69 Chapter 3: Revolution in Publication: Changes Introduced by Interwar Mass-Market Women’s Magazines to Japanese Print / Reading Culture As explained in Chapter Two, the mass-market women’s magazine had become “transfeminized” by the 1920s, attracting a wide range of readers, regardless of gender, age, education, address, social status, and marital status. This was made possible thanks to rapid developments in printing technology, nation-wide systematization of related industries, increased literacy among ordinary people, as well as the relatively reasonable pricing of this kind of magazine. An idealized image of the modern family with a “cultural life” would also help the women’s magazine transform into a general popular entertainment periodical. Nevertheless, such socio-cultural contexts themselves cannot fully explain the reasons for the popularity of this magazine genre. From the perspective of publishing history, besides the above-mentioned socio-cultural contexts, there is another important factor that supported, enhanced, and maintained the popularity of mass-market women’s magazines: namely, the very novelty of this type of magazine as a periodical itself. The women’s magazine was, so to speak, a new medium of the time. Consequently, this new medium affected the way people read. This chapter will analyze the distinctiveness of the Japanese interwar mass-market women’s magazine, in comparison with other magazine genres of the time, and the changes in reading habits brought about by this magazine genre. Developments in Formats and Modes of Expression of Mass-Market Women’s Magazines High Receptivity to New Systems and Technologies It should be noted that before 1945, of the various magazine genres, it was almost always women’s magazines that ventured to introduce new styles, techniques or systems for editing, printing, 70 bookbinding, distribution, and marketing in modern Japanese publishing history. To take a few examples: in 1909, Jitsugyō no Nihonsha started selling magazines on a commission basis for the first time in Japan with Fujin sekai (Women’s World), which rose to become one of the best-selling magazines of that time.1 Until then, it had been common for retailers to buy periodicals, a rather risky practice for them in the case when items were left unsold. The new commission-based selling system enabled retail dealers to return unsold items freely to publishers. It was a natural consequence that bookstores all over the nation preferred publishers that adopted this new policy; other publishers soon followed Jitsugyō no Nihonsha.2 Women’s magazines opened the way for a “one-coin” sales policy in Japanese publication culture. Before such a policy was settled upon, at the beginning of the 1920s, the price of magazines was not stable. In the case of Shufu no tomo, for instance, the price of any particular issue ranged from 40 sen to 90 sen , depending on the size of the issue or the particular economic conditions of publication-related industries at the moment. In 1922, inspired by a vision of convenience that both subscribers and sellers would welcome, Ishikawa Takeyoshi, the founder of Shufu no tomo, fixed the price of each issue at the price of 50 sen, payable with one coin. His hunch turned out to be right; before long, most popular magazines, including Kingu, adopted the same one-coin policy,3 even if in some cases this meant a reduction in price.4 This change in price policy affected even “general 1 The exact circulation numbers for each women’s magazine of the time are obscure and the case of Fujin sekai is not immune to this tendency. While Shimizu and Kobayashi (1979, 53) and Kōdansha Shashi Henshū Iinkai (2001, 75) reported the monthly circulation of the magazine was 300,000, Ogawa (1962, 70–71) stated that it was 400,000. In any case, clearly, as Kimura Ki (1933/1930, 194) and Ogawa (1962, 69–70) pointed out, it was Fujin sekai that carved out a readership of several hundred thousand among women and opened up a new reading environment for subsequent women’s magazines. 2 Shimizu and Kobayashi 1979, 53; Kōdansha Shashi Henshū Iinkai 2001, 75. 3 Shashi Hensan Iinkai, ed. 1959a, 674; Kōdansha Shashi Henshū Iinkai, ed. 2001, 112. 4 For example, Fujin kurabu (from 1929), Yūben and Gendai (both from 1928) dropped their prices from 80 sen to 50 sen, Fujin kōron (from 1930), from 70 sen to 50 sen, and Kōdan kurabu (from 1929), from one yen (that is, 100 sen) to 50 sen (Ishii 1940, 124–125; Kōdansha Shashi Henshū Iinkai, ed. 2001, 128, 134; Shashi Henshū Iinkai, ed. 1959a, 466–470, 1959b, 81–85; Matsuda 1965, 125). 71 magazines” for intellectuals. From the February 1927 issue onward, Kaizō “dared to reduce its price” from 80 sen to 50 sen, which opened up the magazine to a wider range of readership.5 Shufu no tomo introduced another practice for its readers’ convenience: In 1929, it began including a listing of the tables of contents of all its issues for the year in every December issue. With this list, readers could use the magazines as a kind of “home encyclopedia.”6 Many other magazines adopted this new service as well. It was also mass-market women’s magazines that first achieved more flexible and informative layouts than ever by introducing new printing technologies. Ever since the leading women’s magazine, Shufu no tomo, started adopting the technique of printing text in an American point system in 1921, this became the most popular type among Japanese magazines.7 Until then, only major newspapers had used this new, globally standardized printing type. Magazines had relied on a Japanese type called gōsū katsuji, whose bigger letters than those in American point system had restricted layout patterns and limited the amount of information appearing on each page.8 To avoid being noticed by other magazine publishers, Ishikawa arranged with the magazine’s main printing house that this new point system be adopted gradually in stages starting with the March 1918 issue, but the strategy was nevertheless leaked to other publishers two years later.9 This smaller system of 5 Kaizō pressed ahead with a “drastic price cut” from 80 sen to 50 sen from the February 1927 issue (Yokoyama 1966, 16). 6 Shufu no Tomosha, ed. 1967, 169; Shufu no Tomosha, ed. 1996, 35. The founder, Ishikawa Takemi, himself had an ideal to publish a magazine as a kind of “home encyclopedia” for every Japanese household (Ishii 1940, 168–169). 7 Shufu no Tomosha 1967, 130–131, 231. 8 Mainichi Shinbunsha Shashi Hensan Iinkai 122–123. The American point system was first introduced to Japan at the 5th Naikoku Kangyō Hakurankai (National Industrial Exhibition) in 1903. The first newspaper to use it was Chūō shinbun, though it employed such tiny 6 to 7 point letters that the system did not spread among newspapers until the 1908 September 3rd issue of Osaka mainichi shinbun first adopted 10-point letters (Dainihon Insatsu Kabushiki Gaisha 1952, 96–97; Shashi Hensan Iinkai 1952, 122–123). For a while, however, the system was restricted to newspapers and pamphlets such as train schedule. It was after the Great Kanto Earthquake in 1923 that the American point system became prevalent in the publishing world, including magazines (Shuppan Jiten Henshū Iinkai, ed. 1971, 422). 9 Ishii 1940, 232–233; Shufu no Tomosha, ed. 1967, 130–131. 72 type along with newly employed printing technologies allowed magazines to print both Japanese and alphanumeric letters together on the same page, giving the pages a more flexible, dynamic, and modern appearance.10 Orality, New Article Genres, and an Emphasis on Everyday Life The heavy emphasis on orality, which is quite a common practice among popular magazines today, was also first popularized by women’s magazines. Following the official introduction of colloquial writing styles (genbun itchi tai) into compulsory education by the first government-designated Japanese textbook compiled between 1903 and 1904, periodicals gradually started using these new writing systems in their articles. Yet, there were “time lags” among them. While magazines for women, youth (boys and girls), and children overall had adopted colloquial styles by 1910,11 magazines for male intellectuals and major newspapers maintained a formal, literary writing style called “Meiji common writing” (Meiji futsū bun).12 Introduction of colloquial styles was delayed even further in the case of newspaper columns and official documents. It was not until the post-WWII period that an imperial rescript was first written in colloquial style. The formal literary style lingered in these periodicals until 1920, and, in the case of major newspapers, quite a few articles continued to be written in this archaic style even during the 1920s.13 On the other hand, articles in women’s magazines from the 1910s onward were written in desu/masu style, which was considered to be more “colloquial” than the da/de aru form that was used mainly in editorial articles in “serious” magazines. Therefore, women’s magazines were said to be filled with “published 10 Shashi Hensan Iinkai 1952, 122–123. Kitada pointed out their quick introduction of new technologies enabled popular women’s magazines to realize a flexible layout (Kitada 1998, 155–179). 11 Iwata 1997, 417–426. 12 Suzuki 1996, 83–101. 13 [Mainichi Shinbun] Shashi Hensan Iinkai 1952, 209–212. 73 conversation” (danwa).14 In fact, quite a few how-to articles in women’s magazines were verbal reports dictated by magazine writers.15 Various other kinds of articles were also written in the above style. The most typical examples are round-table talks (zadankai). Round-table articles presented as “recording” actual discussions emerged in women’s magazines in the early 1920s16 even before round-table radio shows achieved great popularity in the late 1920s. The articles became so popular that in the 1930s each issue of a women’s magazine regularly contained three to four round-table talks. In contrast, other kinds of magazines included only one or two, which testifies to women’s magazines’ strong inclination toward orality. The realistic colloquial style of popular women’s magazines and inclusion of fewer editorial columns, together with the practice of adding phonetic reading guides (furigana or rubi) to the printed texts, especially those in complicated Chinese characters, made the magazines more accessible to readers. Mass-market women’s magazines also expanded their range of contents. Until it became mass marketed, the typical women’s magazine (such as Katei zasshi and Jogaku zasshi), consisted of editorial articles on philosophy, aesthetics, natural sciences, politics and economics, alongside literary works; the same format as their contemporary magazines for male intellectuals. Most of these articles were written in the above-mentioned formal, classical style, and they were also read by male readers. 17 After being mass-marketed, however, women’s magazines such as Fujin sekai 14 Yamamoto 1971, 641–676. On the development of the modern colloquial writing style, see also Yamamoto (1967), Karatani (1993/1983), M. Inoue (2006), Levy (2010) and Chapter Five of this dissertation. 15 Tsugawa 1992/1930, 66–67, 150, 155–159, 189, 291; Satō Sumiko 1931, 304–309; Shufu no Tomosha, ed. 1967, 257–258. 16 “Fujokai Discussion (fujokai hihankai)” (6–31) appearing in May 1923 issue of Fujokai is one of the earliest examples. 17 Satō Haruo’s comments on Katei zasshi in Chiba et al. 1928, 104; Teruko Inoue 1971, 96–137. It is well-known that Jogaku zasshi contributed to the creation of the modern colloquial writing system, a clear indication that women’s magazines of the time were read by both sexes (Yamamoto Masahide 1971, 89–119). See Chapter Two and Chapter Five of this dissertation. 74 dramatically reduced the number of such “serious” editorial articles and started including more practical articles, namely, articles on cooking, fashion, and other everyday private activities. Critic Kimura Ki reminisces that this content shift among women’s magazines pulled male readers away from them.18 In the mid-1910s, this inclination toward content from everyday life intensified in popular women’s magazines. While it had long been a custom among women’s magazines since Jogaku sekai to carry readers’ letters, Fujokai initiated inclusion of reader-contributed full article submissions. Almost all of these contributions were written in the newly established colloquial writing style and were about the readers’ life experiences or their feelings in everyday life. In addition to practical articles, serialized novels, and confessional writings, popular women’s magazines introduced other new contents: reportage by correspondent writers (tokuha kiji or tanbōki), interviews (taidan or hōmonki), and round-table discussions (zadankai).19 These articles not only deployed the colloquial style; they also relied heavily on direct quotation, which gave a more phonetically pseudo-mimetic or realistic, and thus vivid, tone to the magazines.20 Shufu no tomo accelerated this trend to the extent that it discarded editorial articles almost entirely in order to reach not only the existing readers of magazines, most of whom were highly educated, but also elementary-school graduates. While the interviews mainly featured well-known celebrities in show business or from good families, the other articles often reported on the life experiences of ordinary people, ranging from minor bureaucrats to factory workers and fishers (see Chapter Five for examples). To achieve more subscribers, other popular women’s magazines soon adopted this same editing approach. As such egalitarian coverage did not yet exist in any other magazine genre, Shufu 18 Kimura Ki 1930/1933, 194. 19 Tsugawa 1930, 66–67; Satō 1931, 304–309; Shufu no Tomosha, ed. 1967, 257–258; Maeshima 2009a, 2011. 20 Strictly speaking, no written texts, including those in this colloquial style, can manage to re-present spoken lines. Even the “desu/masu” style is a grammatology, after all. See Miyako Inoue 2006. 75 no tomo and other women’s magazines employing this editing style soon began to attract male readers as well. Thus, by 1920, these so-called “women’s magazines” had come to reflect―or, more precisely, had come to present themselves as reflecting―the “voices” of people of various backgrounds, telling their experiences, feelings, and thoughts in this two-dimensional public sphere. Intense Visualization Women’s magazines were also quick to employ the latest printing techniques. Halftone was first introduced into Japan in 1889 and it came to be commonly applied in periodicals since around 1904, at the time of the Russo-Japanese War.21 It is notable that as early as 1890 a women’s magazine, Jogaku zasshi, included a few photographic images.22 This deep interest in new printing technologies was passed down to later generations of women’s magazines. For example, soon after the Ichida Offset Company in Osaka began working in the H. B. process (polychrome offset printing) in 1920, Shufu no tomo introduced this technology for its covers in 1922, which was two years before the Ichida Offset Company established its office and factory in Tokyo.23 Shufu no tomo was also one of the first magazine publishers to adopt photogravure. Popularized in Europe and North America during WWI, this printing technology was first realized in Japan by Tsujimoto Shūgorō, sponsored by Ōsaka Asahi Shinbunsha in 1920.24 Still, for a while, the technology was limited to large newspaper publishers such as the Ōsaka and Tōkyō asahi shinbun or the Ōsaka mainichi and Tōkyō nichinichi shinbun. Shufu no tomo started deploying this technology with its August 1926 issue.25 One year later, in August 1927, the magazine had a ten- 21 Hasegawa 1987b, 135–136; Nakai 1987a, 89; Kaneko 1999b, 92. 22 Kitada 1998. 23 The company signed a contract concerning its patent in the US in 1919 (See the explanation of “Ichihashi Kōshirō” in Shuppan Jiten Henshū Iinkai, ed. 1971; Shufu no Tomosha, ed. 1967, 228. 24 Hasegawa 1987b, 136. 25 Shashi Hensan Iinkai, ed. 1952, 212–213. 76 page photo section printed in photogravure, a considerable volume when compared with the graphic weekly magazine Sandē mainichi (Sunday Mainichi), which had four pages of photogravure in every issue. In 1928, Shūeisha, one of the main printing houses for Shufu no tomo, began using the latest Swiss chromatic gravure process, called Sadag Gravure; this was a full three years in advance of its application in Fortune magazine by Time Publications in 1930.26 It is noteworthy that it was mass-market women’s magazines that first introduced such a novel printing technology as Sadag Gravure to the Japanese magazine publishing with an immediacy that was on a par with Euro-American publishers, another episode attesting to the receptivity of women’s magazines to new techonologies. Soon, other women’s magazines adopted the traits of Shufu no tomo in order to increase their circulation following the example of their best-selling competitor. Thanks to advanced printing and photographic techniques, women’s magazines preceded other periodicals in the use of visual images. Even today, it is still well known that serialized novels in these magazines were brilliantly illustrated by popular artists such as Takahata Kashō, Iwamoto Sentarō, and so on. But illustrations in these magazines were not limited to the full-length novels. Almost all the articles in women’s magazines were accompanied by some kind of visual imagery. The front and back covers beguiled many people as well. When displayed among magazines with subdued covers consisting of only letters or paintings of flowers and birds at most, women’s magazine covers portraying beautiful young women were extremely eye-catching (Figure 1). 26 Nakane 1999, 263; Gaw 1932, 27–30; Pellissier 1932, 20–23; Hannes 2004, 243. 77 Figure 1 Examples of Front Pages Left: Shufu no tomo (August 1937) Right: Fujin kurabu (August 1937) Ishikawa Takeyoshi Memorial Library, Tokyo, Japan Matsuda Tomitaka reminisces about hearing that so many young male students had been attracted by his painting of a wide-mouthed modern beauty on the front cover of a particular issue that they rushed to buy the magazine and the issue was soon sold out.27 The most obvious change that mass-market women’s magazines brought about in Japanese magazine culture was the transformation of the photographic section into a feature of the magazine. Modern Japanese magazines had contained pictorial sections since the late 19th century, when the invention of halftone enabled the press to insert photos.28 Since then, Japanese magazines consisted of two parts: pictorial sections on the opening pages called kuchi-e (frontispieces), and the following text section, or honbun (main text). In the 1910s–1920s, most magazines carried only several photographs in this frontispiece section. Even in the case of the so-called “pictorial magazine” (gahō), which included more photographs than any other kind of magazine, just half of the whole issue was allotted to the pictorial section, roughly half of which consisted of illustrations, not photos. That is, 27 Shufu no Tomosha, ed. 1967, 225. 28 Hasegawa 1987, 135–136; Kaneko 1999b, 92. 78 only about one fourth of the whole issue was occupied by photographs. For example, Volume 15 of Nichiro sensō shashin gahō (Russo-Japanese War Pictorial), published in 1904, devoted the first 40 pages to the kuchi-e (15 of which were not photographs but illustrations), and the following 64 pages to the honbun. This magazine format continued to be utilized by magazines for intellectuals, as is often the case even now. It was the most popular women’s magazine of the time, Shufu no tomo, that gradually shifted the function of the pictorial section in the 1920s so much that it almost deconstructed this dual-section magazine format. First, the magazine drastically expanded its pictorial section. From its start in 1917 until the early 1920s, the magazine had allotted only several pages to the pictorial section, while the textual section contained 160 pages or so, just like other popular magazines of the day. Ever since the foundation of its own photo department in 1921, however, the magazine consistently increased the size of the photo section. Having its own photo department enabled Shufu no tomo to insert original photos without borrowing from press agencies, differentiating it from other magazines without many original photos.29 By the late 1920s, the visual section of the magazine ran about 50 pages and in the 1930s, it occupied 80–90 pages of every issue, which corresponded to roughly 20% of the whole magazine. It should also be noted that at this point the photo-based articles became completely independent from the text articles. Until the mid-1920s, most photos in the frontispiece were not independent from the articles in the text section. A short one- to two-line caption accompanying each photo referred the reader’s attention to a related article in the text section. Words guiding the audience 29 Only major, nation-wide newspaper companies had their own photo and publishing departments enabling them to insert their own pictures in their newspapers. By 1922, for instance, Asahi shinbun had established its photo division under the department of city news (Asahi Shinbun Hyakunenshi Henshū Iinkai, ed. 1995d, 22). Ordinary publishers and newspaper companies had to borrow photographs for their publications from press agencies such as Nihon Denpō Tsūshinsha, Teikoku Tsūshinsha and Naigai Tsūshinsha. For more on photo use, photo departments, and press agencies of the time, see Taniguchi 1931, 226. 79 to a textual article indicated that the photo was a mere appendix or illustration to the verbal article in the body section, located some dozens of pages later. In other words, the photo page itself did not constitute a self-contained item. From the mid 1920s onward, Shufu no tomo increasingly introduced photo articles that were completely independent from the articles in the text section. At the beginning, the magazine simply adopted already existing photo-article styles from pictorial magazines and film-fan magazines, which typically consisted of a photo accompanied by an immediately adjacent paragraph. Gradually, however, Shufu no tomo developed its own styles of photo articles, such as a series of sequential photographs with a corresponding narrative (Figure 2).30 Figure 2 Example of a Pictorial Page From a star-featuring article, “A Day in the Life of Miss Sayo Fukuko: From Morning ’til Night (Sayo Fukuko san no asa kara ban made).” (Shufu no tomo, Feb. 1936, p. 14.) Ishikawa Takeyoshi Memorial Library, Tokyo, Japan In this way, Shufu no tomo transformed the pictorial section from a mere appendix to the most popular featured component of the magazine. Its renaming of kuchi-e (frontispiece) to gahō 30 Maeshima 2009b. 80 (pictorial) symbolizes this change. Illustrations accompanying various kinds of articles and stories gradually became replaced by photographs. As usual, other popular women’s magazines soon followed Shufu no tomo in heavy visualization.31 In 1931, magazine editor Satō Sumiko reported that the pictorial section of each mass-market women’s magazine constituted 48–50 pages out of a total of 480–490 pages, which, an investigation conducted by the Ministry of Home Affairs (Naimushō) argued, undermined the uniqueness of existing pictorial magazines such as Fujin gahō.32 As a point of comparison, in the early 1930s, old monthly pictorial magazines carried 40–50 pictorial pages, and new weekly magazines and photo journals, 8–24 pages. Other popular magazines contained 15- to 20-page picture sections, while magazines for intellectuals (“general magazines”) included almost no pictorial sections except in special issues. Moreover, as already mentioned, not only the introductory sections, but most of the other articles in women’s magazines included pictures. In a sense, therefore, mass-market women’s magazines were the de facto popular pictorial magazines in the late 1920s and 1930s, contributing to disciplining the way in which readers “read” such photo articles.33 Emphasis on Entertainment and the Relative Retreat of the Moralistic Tone The diversity in the content of interwar mass-market women’s magazines belies a common misconception of Japanese women’s magazines of the time—one presented by early studies and one that is still held at least outside academia—as periodicals consisting of moralistic and practical articles. Indeed, they did contain how-to articles and advice columns on everyday domestic chores. The interwar editors’ own claims that they aimed to provide readers with practical information and 31 Shufu no Tomosha launched its photographic department in 1921, and Kōdansha in 1924. Shufu no Tomosha 1967, 85; Shashi Hensan Iinkai, ed. 1959a, 599–605. 32 Satō S. 1931, 296, 299; Naimushō Keihokyoku 1929, x–26. 33 On the details of the development of pictorial sections in women’s magazines, see Maeshima 2007 and 2009b. 81 moral lessons seemed to confirm such a focus,34 which was often cited in previous studies on publishing history. Upon browsing these women’s magazines, however, one notices that their overall impression is not as exclusively didactic or pragmatic as their editors claimed. Rather, one finds it to be more entertaining. In fact, despite the editors’ emphasis on moral teachings and practical information, which were often highlighted in the readers’ letters to the magazines as well, entertainment-oriented components such as photo reportages of the everyday lives of movie stars or “transcribed” interviews with popular singers increased every year. Frequent reference by the editors and readers to the moral, educational, and practical aspects of the women’s magazine can quite likely be an excuse for their indulgence in such entertaining “light” periodicals.35 One can find only a few moralistic components in any single issue of a women’s magazine. For example, in the case of Shufu no tomo, the regular components that would appear to be distinctly morals-oriented are a one-page prefatory note, sometimes followed by an opening article by a well-known intellectual and some passages in Ishikawa Takeyoshi’s 2–4 page “Editor’s Diary” (henshū nisshi). Thus, clearly morally charged pages amounted to a mere dozen pages or so out of a total of several hundred pages (300 pages in the mid-1920s, and 600 pages in the mid-1930s). Moreover, the prefatory note and “Editor’s Diary” were printed in smaller type and not highlighted in format, while their regular appearance and fixed position may have suggested their role as the last bastion of morality in the magazine. In actuality, besides the above-mentioned items, other stories, especially “real stories,” that is, narratives based on “facts” about sensational issues or touching stories, habitually ended on an additional moral note. However, these endings were so short that the readers’ attention must have focused rather on the main body of the narratives themselves, which described 34 Shufu no Tomosha 1967, 40; Ishikawa 1940, 170. There are numerous similar self-referential comments in each issue of Shufu no tomo in those days. 35 Similar phenomena have been observed among both male and female readers of women’s magazines in the Netherlands today (Hermes 1995). 82 things like love affairs between stars, or the sad lives of women in the red-light districts. From this, one could infer that the exaggerated emphasis on morality and practicality might have been an alibi or an excuse used to avoid additional criticism of mass-market women’s magazines, which was already quite extensive. Opening these mass-market women’s magazines, one can find among their pages considerable content that was intended solely to amuse their readers: illustrated serialized novels, humorous stories, short quizzes, comic strips, movie digests in reconstructed photo stories, interviews featuring movie stars or singers, and so on. While such entertaining components undoubtedly contributed to “disciplining” their readers in the Foucauldian sense, they were not overtly intended to teach moral lessons or offer practical advice in a direct way. In this sense, media scholar Ariyoshi Teruo’s theory concerning the function of women’s magazines of the time is highly suggestive. Observing a very limited number of female moviegoers in the interwar period, Ariyoshi speculates that reading women’s magazines might have been an alternative leisure activity to watching moving pictures.36 It was serialized novels that first steered women’s magazines in the direction of entertainment (Figure 3). The trend initiated by Fujokai, was, as usual, furthered by Shufu no tomo and adopted by other women’s magazines.37 Trained as an editor and manager at Fujin no tomo and Fujokai, Ishikawa Takeyoshi more radically transformed women’s magazines, with his foundation of Shufu no tomo. One of his innovative editing strategies was extending the range of serialized novels. Probably in order to solicit more subscribers from both sexes, the magazine offered not only those typical “fictions for women” such as romances and family novels, but also other genres of narrative, including detective stories, humor, comic strips, historical stories, and translations of 36 Ariyoshi 1984, 41–42. 37 On serial novels in women’s magazines, see Maeda 1973. 83 European or American contemporary novels. Figure 3 Example of a Serialized Novel Page: from “New Woman in Makeup (Shin nyonin shō)” by Kikuchi Kan, illustrated by Teramoto Tadao (Fujokai, May 1932, pp. 88–89) Ishikawa Takeyoshi Memorial Library, Tokyo, Japan The variety of fictional content appearing in women’s magazines was enormously popular among both men and women, and many novelists as well as poets contributed to these magazines. While most of these fictions were categorized as “popular literature” (taishū bungaku/tsūzoku shōsetsu), customarily labeled as “vulgar” or “light,”38 works of “serious” or “aesthetic” “pure literature” (jun bungaku) gradually came to be included in the popular women’s magazine as well.39 38 These fictions named “popular literature” (taishū bungaku/tsūzoku shōsetsu) were, and still to some extent are, labeled as “vulgar” or “light” as opposed to the “serious” or “aesthetic” “pure literature” (junbungaku) appearing in “general” magazines or literary journals. The formation of such a hierarchy in the literary world needs separate, further study. For the division between “pure” literature and “vulgar/popular/mass” literature and the formation of hierarchy in the literary genres in the interwar period, see Suzuki Sadami 1994 and Strecher 1996. 39 The following are examples of writers/novelists who contributed frequently to Shufu no tomo in the interwar period.: Okamoto Kidō, Sasaki Kuni, Watanabe Katei, Mikami Otokichi, Kume Masao, Yamanaka Minetarō, Kikuchi Kan, Satomi Ton, Shirai Kyōji, Tanizaki Jun’ichirō, Ōkura Tōrō, Asou Yutaka, Kagawa Toyohiko, Mushanokōji Saneatsu, Osaragi Jirō, Yokomitsu Riichi, Yoshikawa Eiji, Yoshiya Nobuko, Kōzu Kazuo, Nagayo Yoshirō, Maki Itsuma, Naoki Sanjūgo, Yamamoto Yūzō, Kojima Seijirō, Shihi Bunroku, Ishizaka Yōjirō, Kawaguchi Matsutarō, Saijō Yaso. In addition, after WWII, the following writers also contributed their works to the magazine: Hirabayashi Taiko, Hayashi 84 The diverse supplements to women’s magazines also attracted many people, including men and children. Once Shufu no tomo started appending a separate-volume supplement in 1918, all mass-market magazines followed suit in order to compete with their rivals. The competition was so intense that the January 1934 issue of Shufu no tomo presented its readers with fifteen kinds of supplements,40 which only Fujin kurabu came close to rivaling in number. Now, when one thinks of supplements to women’s magazines, one would imagine these might consist of things like recipe cards, sewing patterns, manner books, or fashion catalogues. The variety of actual supplements confounds such preconceived ideas. They ranged from items for all family members, such as calendars, game books, travel guides, and reproductions of famous paintings to illustrated storybooks for children. Heavy, gorgeous supplements in popular women’s magazines often caused problems with distribution companies and resulted in various restrictions, although each time the publishers managed to evade them.41 Practical Articles and Human Interest Stories as Entertainment Moreover, the components that were seemingly didactic or full of practical information could also be enjoyed as entertainment. Many colorful illustrations or photographs added visual pleasure to the so-called “practical articles,” even though they were primarily intended to show their readers how to cook, sew, raise children, entertain guests, or prepare for marriage, the New Year, and Fumiko, Hino Ashihei, Mishima Yukio, Koyama Itoko, Inoue Hisashi, Niwa Fumio, Hayashi Fusao, Tsuboi Sakae, Ozaki Shirō, Matsumoto Seichō, Sata Ineko, Shiba Ryōtarō, Endō Shūsaku, Miura Ayako, Setouchi Harumi (later “Jakuchō”). Recently scholar has started paying academic attention to works included in interwar women’s magazines, particularly those have been categorized as “popular literature.” For studies on works by Yoshiya Nobuko, for example, see Frederick 2002 & 2005 and Michiko Suzuki 2006 & 2010 (especially Chapter 3). 40 As much as 150 tons of cardboard and 450,000 meters of silk string were used to bind the issues and supplements together, which amounted to 1800 tons in total, for transportation. This New Year issue was so well sold that it was reprinted twice (Shufu no Tomosha 1967, 205–206). 41 For details, see Hashimoto 1964, 251, 442–449. 85 so on. In the case of photo articles, this entertainment aspect becomes even more foregrounded; by casting popular movie stars, accompanied by their lines, and presenting the information in a narrative form, these articles could be read as enjoyable photo stories. Furthermore, quite a few articles in popular women’s magazines of the time focused on Western-style cooking, interior decoration, and fashion. For the average person in Japan, to whom a modern Western lifestyle was still far from the reality unless they were upper- or middle-class city-dwellers, even ordinary, practical articles could function as sources of entertainment. Even those who were able to realize such practices in their lives could enjoy these practical articles with their colorful, glossy pictures and detailed descriptions as informative, eye-nurturing, and inspiring entertainment, a practice that still prevails among today’s readers of fashion magazines, or audiences of TV shows on home-making. Writer Kirishima Yōko recalls from her youth that while she sometimes tried cooking the recipes that her mother clipped from and gathered into recipe books from women’s magazines, she also enjoyed browsing them everyday.42 Thus, a practice that appears at first glace to be simply collecting practical information through reading how-to articles can sometimes have additional significance, such as providing relaxing entertainment or a distraction.43 Similarly, human interest stories based on “facts” could also function as entertainment. “Real stories”—such as confessional life stories submitted from readers, fiction based on “facts,” reportages, interviews, and photo reportages of a variety of people—satisfied readers’ curiosity as well as offering them the intriguing experience of peeping into the private lives of others.44 Those who were featured in such stories ranged from unnamed ordinary people, both in the countryside and in the cities, to movie stars and aristocratic families. Reportages and photo reportages did not 42 Kirishima 1990/1976, 128–129. 43 See Hermes’ arguments on symbolic significance of activities to scrap how-to articles beyond mere practical information collection (Hermes 1995). 44 Barbara Sato argues that such accounts of various people functioned as an “alternative informant” (2000, 137–153). 86 only feature individuals; they often focused on groups, events, or places, such as city life, public facilities, factories, or small local communities.45 In a sense, such components provided readers with virtual field trips offering a glimpse at the lives of various kinds of people as well as diverse aspects of the society. These could be regarded as an enjoyable distraction, while at the same time giving the readers opportunities to reflexively reconsider their lives in comparison with those of others featured in these magazines. In this way, readers contributed to the construction of a modern reflexive subjectivity, “continually integrat[ing] events which occur in the external world, and sort[ing] them into the ongoing ‘story’ about the self”.46 Commentators taking part in a round-table talk on women’s magazines in the June 1928 issue of Shinchō showed their insights into this sort of pleasure that women’s magazines offered to their readers: Miyake: [The mass-market women’s magazines are very popular] because even those who will never see Tokyo in their lives can expose themselves to the social climate of the time through women’s magazines. […] Chiba: Since these magazines were all edited in Tokyo, it is only the lifestyles of the wealthy consumer class in the cities that is reflected in these magazines. […] This sometimes even inculcates useless desires into women in the countryside. Satō: In a sense, that could work as leisure, after all, couldn’t it? 45 Examples include department stores, theaters, movie houses, modern restaurants, radio stations, zoos, theme parks, big stations, the Diet Building, exhibitions, the renewed city of Tokyo, and coronation ceremonies; unique schools, hospitals, military installations, Buddhist temples, and Christian monasteries; cotton spinning mills, canneries, and food-processing factories; rural villages, fishing villages, and villages near the national borders. 46 Giddens 1991, 54. 87 Nakamura: Women in the countryside entertain themselves by browsing the magazines. Satō: Human beings have a tendency to enjoy what is far away from their own standards. […] (Chiba et al. 1928, 122–123) In a sense, the readers of interwar popular women’s magazines found themselves to be flâneurs/flâneuses in their imaginary worlds while browsing their entertaining components. When a popular movie or revue star acts as a guide in an article to show readers around places beyond their own daily living areas, the entertainment aspect of the article becomes highlighted even more. As contemporary critic Tosaka Jun points out, almost all the articles popular magazines in the 1930s, especially mass-market women’s magazines like Shufu no tomo, were pleasing their readers with this kind of new voyeuristic entertainment (1937, 342–349). This is the pleasure of the gaze, which has been associated with modernity since Charles Baudelaire’s mention of it in the 1850s.47 Developments in Promotion Promoting Reader Participation: Features of Reader Submissions and Media Events Inviting the reader to participate in magazine-making and various events held by the magazines was also part of a “new editorial style” in interwar Japan (see Chapter Five). Women’s magazines were one of the first periodicals to include reader submissions as independent articles. First, Fujokai started including writing samples from their readership, not as letters in a “readers’ column,” as had been common hitherto in women’s magazines, but as full-fledged articles on a par with those by specialists.48 Shufu no tomo then further pursued this trend; it left more pages for 47 See Friedberg 1993. 48 One could also say such a custom originated from Fujin sekai, which showed readers’ tips concerning domestic chores such as cooking, sewing, cleaning, washing, and the like. Yet, each submission included in this section was only a few sentences in length, much shorter than regular articles and even than readers’ letters. For details about the development of readers’ contributions, see 88 reader submissions and started including contributions by men in addition to women while reducing the number of editorials, a trend that was soon imitated by other women’s magazines.49 In interwar Japan, readers could even affect the editing of popular women’s magazines. For example, having received many letters from readers pleading for illustrated serialized novels, the editor of Shufu no tomo (probably Ishikawa Takeyoshi) decided to include such components in the magazine. Of course, it is difficult to tell to what extent we can trust such accounts at face value. Yet, we can at least say that editors of interwar popular women’s magazines were eager to stage readers’ participation in magazine-making (see Chapter Five). A variety of events organized by and through women’s magazines also enhanced readers’ feeling of involvement in the magazine public sphere. Mass-market women’s magazines such as Shufu no tomo enlarged the community of readers beyond the upper-middle class subscribers of prior women’s magazines by promoting activities or “campaigns” ranging from mediated correspondence, personal ads, and exchanging information about folk remedies, to soliciting donations or volunteer activity on behalf of unfortunate people such as lepers, orphans, bereaved parents, disaster victims, and soldiers on the front, or fundraising for a monument to infants who met untimely death. The magazine also offered media events to invite reader participation, such as contests in novel-writing, photography, knitting, kimono pattern–design, and so on. Major events were held by the publishers’ Bunka jigyōbu (Department of Cultural Programs), some of which continued even during WWII.50 Among these, one of the first contests that were held annually as a sort of “seasonal event” was the knitting contest. Every year, Shufu no tomo solicited contributions of hand-made knitted goods, some Chapter Four of this dissertation. 49 This was a huge step in the history of magazines in Japan, for men’s submissions had been prohibited in many women’s magazines since their “feminization” at the beginning of the century. See Chapter Four. 50 On the establishment of the Department of Cultural Programs, see Shufu no Tomosha 1967, 94–95. The analysis of Department of Cultural Programs by Okada and Sakimura is probably the first study to point out the pioneering attempts by Shufu no Tomosha in this time (1965, 334–338). 89 of which were selected for awards, presented in the magazine with the names of the makers and photos of the works, and exhibited around the country. Some participants, such as Shibata Takeko and Saeki Shūko, later became well-known pioneering specialists in the knitting world. Similarly, some participants in other contests held by Shufu no tomo also became professional artists, with such opportunities serving as turning points in their careers. They include painter Yamagishi (later Morita) Motoko and photographer Okada Kōyō. As Okada’s case testifies, there were considerable male participants in the events presented by Shufu no tomo.51 Some events, such as the annual Shufu no tomo Yukata (summer kimono) Pattern Design Contest, were even intertwined with commodity culture. The whole process, from the call for participants to the nation-wide exhibitions of works for sale, was reported in the magazine over several months. First, the call for a kimono fabric pattern design contest was posted almost half a year before the final exhibition. A few months later, an “impartial panel of judges,” including specialists in the fashion and art worlds, selected a few dozen patterns from among the submissions, and the selections were announced in the magazine along with the names of the individuals who designed them. Meanwhile, through collaboration with a major cloth dyer, each pattern was made into real fabric. Then, just before the start of the summer season, the fabrics were presented in a photo article in the style of a fashion show, in which well-known actresses served as models and specialists commented on each design.52 At the same time, major department stores and drapers in and outside of the country—including the colonies of Korea and Taiwan and the de facto colony of Manchuria—held exhibitions and spot sales of these fabrics almost simultaneously, which was reported in detail in the magazine 51 Shufu no Tomosha 1967, 185, 194, 621–622. For Yamagishi/Morita, see also Kokatsu 2003a, 25–37; 2003b, 9. For Okada, see Tōkyō-to Shashin Bijutsukan 2005, 95–96. 52 For the examples of articles concerning the 1930 yukata design contest, see Shufu no tomo, Oct. 1929: 285; June 1930: 44, 262–264, 418–419, 425; July 1930: 259. 90 with photographs. In 1929, as many as 263 cities, including some in Taiwan, Korea, and China, hosted events at local department stores or major drapers.53 The articles also functioned as a mail-order catalogue, from which readers could purchase fabrics without visiting shops themselves. Browsing advertisements and reports every month, readers could feel as if they gained intimate views into the backstage activities of this “grand event.” In this way, whether participating in this commodified contest passively or actively, readers must have felt themselves to be contributing to, at the most, or being involved, at the least, in the nation-wide media event together with other readers whom they had never seen and would never meet. Similarly, other contests were also commercialized and staged in the magazine.54 This collaboration with various other industries turned out to be an enormous commercial success. Other women’s magazines, as usual, followed this trend; even Bungei shunjū, a general magazine initially launched as a literary magazine, started selling its own summer kimono.55 Media events held by women’s magazines had already existed before the launch of Shufu no tomo. 56 Magazines such as Fujin sekai or Fujokai occasionally organized “avid readers’ gatherings” (aidokusha taikai), inviting selected readers to enjoy theatrical plays or watching movies. However, they were held only in very limited metropolitan areas such as Tokyo and Osaka. Moreover, they had not been commercialized projects organized through collaboration with other companies in different industries. In addition, previously, events of women’s magazines were held for the existing “avid” readers; there was no room for those who had never read the magazines in question to participate in such events. In contrast, commercialized media events by interwar women’s magazines 53 Shufu no Tomosha 1996, 26–34. 54 On the knitting contest, exhibition, and lecture, see Shufu no Tomosha, ed. 1967, 191–192. 55 Shufu no Tomosha, ed. 1967, 114–115; Matsuda 1965, 118; Shashi Hensan Iinkai 1959b, 149–150. See also Maeshima 2012 and 2014. 56 On the history of media events in Japan, including those organized by general magazines and newspapers, see Chapter Three of this dissertation. 91 since the success of Shufu no tomo were almost simultaneously held in multiple cities across the country, through collaboration with various industries beyond publishing. Those who were not regular readers of such magazines could also “participate” in the events as visitors to or shoppers at the exhibitions and sales. Even mere passers-by can be said, in a sense, to have been indirect “participants” in such events. Commercialization: Advertisements, Special Gifts, and Mail Ordering As seen in the media events they organized, commercialism was one of the conspicuous traits of mass-market women’s magazines of the time. In 1929, the Bureau of Police and Public Security at the Ministry of Home Affairs reported on women’s magazines as follows: Publication of women’s magazines became a very profitable enterprise. Hence, they have come to be edited primarily for sale, in addition to their original mission as a magazine to disseminate culture in general. (Naimushō Keihokyoku 1929, x–27) In order to promote sales, each popular women’s magazine extensively deployed advertisements.57 Tsugawa Tatsumi and Ishikawa Takeyoshi, who once worked together for Fujokai and Fujin no tomo (Ladies’ Friend) before they founded their own women’s magazines,58 are particularly well known for their intensive use of various kinds of advertisements. In the interwar period, one could find their advertisements almost everywhere in towns and at home. Advertising techniques such as direct mail, flyers, inserts in newspapers and magazines, not to mention 57 The foundation of “design-oriented ads sections (ishō kōkoku-ran)” in major newspapers, such as Osaka Asahi shinbun (1904), promoted visualization of newspaper advertisements (Minami et al., ed. 1965, 133). Until the emergence of the mass-market women’s magazine, newspapers were the media that offered the flashiest, most eye-catching advertisements in Japan (Kitada 1998, 155–179). 58 (The new) Fujokai and Shufu no tomo, respectively. 92 newspaper ads, had become common in the women’s magazine industry.59 In the towns, especially near girls’ high schools, one could see power poles plastered with colorful posters advertising women’s magazines.60 Above all, Shufu no tomo’s insatiable deployment of advertisements was remarkable. Already at the time of its founding, Shufu no tomo put a full quarter-sheet ad in each major newspaper.61 This particular magazine was the only one that could compete with the newly-launched mass-market general entertainment magazine, Kingu, in the number and space of newspaper ads it placed.62 The size allotted for magazine advertisements in newspapers grew rapidly and it soon became a common strategy among all women’s magazines to have full-sheet newspaper ads. The advertising competition among women’s magazines was so intense that numerous contemporary commentators criticized it.63 Another signature promotion strategy among mass-market women’s magazines was the distribution of free gifts. The leader among them was said to be Shufu no tomo, again, with its first attempt in 1921. To commemorate its accomplishment of becoming “No. 1 in circulation in the East” with its June 1921 issue,64 the magazine decided to present anyone who signed up for a two-year subscription with a removable summer kimono collar (han’eri) “made of refined silk with hand-stiched embroidery that would cost 2.5 or 3 yen at market.”65 While this first attempt was severely 59 Tsugawa 1930, 185, 194. Although Tsugawa, the chief editor of Fujokai of the time, had first considered his job as both editor and advertising canvasser to be “indecent,” he later changed his opinion on advertising and started regarding it as part of magazine articles (Tsugawa 1930, 201–202, 214, 446–447). 60 Tsugawa 1930, 314–316. 61 Shufu no Tomosha 1967, 52. Nihon shōnen and Shōjo no tomo posted the second biggest advertisements in the same newspaper, though they were only one fourth the size of the ad by Shufu no tomo. 62 Satō Takumi 2002, 7. 63 Takashima 1922, 59–60; Chiba et al. 1928, 106 (statement by Nii), 110 (statements by Nakamura and Miyake); Hiratsuka 1928, 84; Yamakawa 1928, 85；Komaki 1927, 68; Noguchi 1927, 65–66. 64 The magazine had a monthly circulation of more than 220,000 (Shufu no Tomosha ed. 1996, 19). 65 They managed to offer such gifts by means of using embroidery made by students at an embroidery 93 criticized by its rivals and intellectuals for its commercialism,66 before long free gifts became common among popular women’s magazines. By 1930, a monthly giveaway quiz (kenshō mondai), another version of the free gift, had become one of the main features of this kind of magazine. Every month, winners were solemnly selected in the presence of the police, whose picture on the page attested to the unbiased nature of the magazine, at the same time seducing readers to participate in this ostentatious event. Another example illustrating the commercial innovativeness of mass-market women’s magazines is the case of the mail-order system. While it has often been said that, unlike in the US, mail-order sale was never common in pre-WWII Japan,67 the sale system became quite popular after Fujin no tomo introduced it in 1905, and it was soon followed by other popular magazines such as Shufu no tomo, Fujokai, and Fujin kurabu.68 Each women’s magazine included a catalogue and advertisements for its own “sales agent” (dairibu).69 In addition to the regular sales catalogue, the regular articles also functioned as an additional kind of mail-order catalogue, as I have already described in explaining commercialized media events. Thus, in contrast to the case in the US, which utilized dedicated sales catalogues, it was mainly through women’s magazines that purchasing by mail-order became common practice in Japan. school in Meguro as their practice (Shufu no Tomosha ed. 1967, 90). The price of Shufu no tomo was 30 sen at that time. 66 For instance, see Takashima 1922, 60. 67 It was long believed that, though some department stores, mail-order sellers, and newspapers started using mail-order sale, it was not commonly practiced in Japan before WWII (see, for instance, Terade 1994, 508). While Kurozumi (1993) referred to mail-order sale by the women’s magazine in the 1920s as an exception, he does not elaborate it. He also shares with Terade the conclusion that, before its prevalence, the mail-order sale had declined by the end of Taishō era and the beginning of Shōwa era (roughly from the mid- to the late 1920s) due to depression and diversification of people’s fashion “tastes” (Kurozumi 1993, 224–225). 68 Fujin no Tomosha 2003, 110. 69 Sales agents were established in Shufu no tomo in 1917 (Shufu no Tomosha 1967, 63–65), in Fujin kurabu in 1929 (Shashi Hensan Iinkai, ed. 1959b, 149–150), in Fujin kōron in 1931 (the sale itself had already started in 1927) (Matsuda 1965, 118). Other magazines, including Fujokai, Bungei shunjū, and Kingu, also had their own sales agents. 94 Popular women’s magazines not only sold commodities in collaboration with trading partners; they also developed and marketed their own original products in collaboration with other manufactures. There were health-building tablets (“Katsuryoku-so” and “Ōtsuzura Fuji”), various kinds of original kimonos, cosmetics (“Megumi-eki” lotion) and original hair care products (“Hatomugi Araiko” and so on) of Shufu no tomo; the summer kimono and cosmetics (“Petē Keshōhin”) of Fujin kōron; the summer kimono and healthy soft drink (“Dorikono”) of Kōdansha magazines, to name a few.70 With articles on fashion, cooking, medicine, cosmetics, and seasonal or life events, the mail-order selling system connected readers’ everyday lives with various traders and department stores, inviting them to indulge in a materially affluent lifestyle.71 Media Mixing Building on the overwhelming popularity of these magazines, publishers developed a media-mixing strategy, whereby plays, movies, and records were produced based on the contents of popular women’s magazines. Popular serialized novels, such as Yanagawa Shun’yō’s Ukimi (Drifting Body/Unfortunate Life) and Oguri Fūyō’s Omoi-zuma (My Beloved Wife) appearing in Fujokai, were made into theatrical plays and later some of them were made into films (Tsugawa 1930, 436-440). Among the movies based on fiction from women’s magazines of the 1930s that are still remembered are “Hito-zuma tsubaki” (Camellia and Someone Else’s Wife) from Shufu no tomo (novelized in 1935–1938; cinematized in 1936) and “Aizen katsura” (Love Laurel) in Fujin kurabu (novelized in 1937; cinematized in 1938), both of which cast top stars, such as Kawasaki Hiroko, Tanaka Kinuyo, Saburi Shin, and Uehara Ken, and recorded tremendous commercial success together with their original theme songs, which were also sold as records.72 The media mixing 70 For the products of Shufu no tomo, see Shufu no Tomosha, ed. 1967, 155, 293–296, 114–116 71 On the case of Shufu no tomo, see Shufu no Tomosha, ed. 1967, 63–65, 209 72 Shufu no Tomosha, ed. 1967, 218; Shashi Hensan Iinkai, ed. 1959b, 383–384. 95 strategy continued to be practiced even during war time. Cheerful and humorous despite its militant title, the narrative comic “Jūgo no Hanako-san” (Hanako on the Home Front) appeared in Shufu no tomo, then was made into a happy musical movie starring Todoroki Yukiko as Hanako in 1943. The movie and its theme song became a major hit.73 This and other theatrical dramas, movies, and songs based on magazine fictions were promoted by the various above-mentioned advertising strategies as well as through regular magazine articles. Even if a fiction was not dramatized or cinematized, it could still be connected with commercialism; novels themselves would include references—sometimes overt, other times covert—to various goods and services in their descriptions of the environments or circumstances of the story. Some such commodities were further advertised in accompanying advertisements. One contemporary critic, Ōya Sōichi, cynically criticized women’s magazine strategies of media mixing and their tie-ups with diverse industries as follows: [A novel appearing in women’s magazines] is not simply literature; in a sense, it is a department store. In it, the latest trendy goods are all displayed. New fashion just imported from Paris, new accessories, new cosmetics, first-class motorcars, and besides these, concerts, movies, theatrical plays—everything and anything that millions of women would like—are displayed in that “novel.” It covers everything ranging from new taste, new games, new leisure activities, new love strategies, and new words to slang expressions. This kind of literature gets dramatized and merchandised through tie-ups with publishers, promoters, entrepreneurs, record companies, and the like, and absorbs the masses. Considering this situation, it is no wonder that wan artistic literature has no chance against it. 73 Shufu no Tomosha, ed. 1967, 340–341; Shufu no Tomosha, ed. 1996, 71. 96 Not only is the entire women’s magazine itself a department store, but every single novel appearing within it constitutes a department store in the same way (Ōya 1959/1934, 193–194). “Like department stores”: this common metaphor for interwar mass-market women’s magazines referred not only to their multifarious contents, but also to their commercialism.74 The Mass-Market Women’s Magazine as New Media The Typical Format of the Interwar Mass-Market Women’s Magazine As shown above, in the 1920s mass-market women’s magazines experienced a great transformation in terms of style, expression, and promotional strategies. However, compared with other kinds of magazines (apart from pictorials, movie-fan periodicals, and cartoon magazines), women’s magazines did not have as clear a distinction in form during the early 1910s as they were to have later. Although the articles of 1910s women’s magazines were written in a more colloquial style than general magazines or newspapers, they still relied on a double-section format, that is, a few pages of frontispiece (kuchie) with photographs and illustrations, followed by an 80-page text section (honbun). While periodicals for women included some entertaining components, such as quizzes and comics, and some articles were illustrated, the main items were more oriented toward practical information rather than being sources of amusement. Media mixing and tie-ups were also rather limited. Thus, up until the mid 1910s, the distinction between women’s magazines and “serious” periodicals rested mainly in the difference in their writing styles, what kinds of themes were dealt with in them, and some of the illustrations that accompanied them. With inclusion of illustrated serialized novels and readers’ submissions as full articles around 74 Akita 1927, 70; Chiba et al. 1928, 101; Satō Sumiko 1931, 309–311. 97 the mid-1910s, popular women’s magazines gradually distanced themselves from other magazines in their editing and promotional styles. Toward the end of the 1920s, popular women’s magazines clearly demarcated themselves from their rivals in the format. Each one included an 80-page photo section called a “pictorial” (gahō) and 500+ pages of text content, although now this too was accompanied by numerous photos and illustrations. In a sense, the double-section magazine format typical of magazines in Japan so far, with a frontispiece and text section, was more or less deconstructed among popular women’s magazines. Their cover illustrations, both on the front and the back, were increasingly flashier than before as well. The range of articles appearing in popular women’s magazines had expanded by the 1930s. A typical mass-market women’s magazine included: photo reportages, interviews, and round-table talks of a variety of people; pinups of top movie stars and beautiful young women from “respectable families”; useful and enjoyable practical articles with (sometimes colored) pictures; entertaining illustrated serialized novels, comic strips, and photo stories; informative articles in entertaining forms on entertainment, celebrities, art, and politics; dramatic “confessional stories” submitted by diverse readers; helpful advice columns with suggestion from specialists; fashion articles with famous actresses acting as models; a mail order catalogue with various advertisements; a readers’ letters section rendered in a friendly, intimate tone; and a variety of supplements ranging from monthly recipe calendars and table game boards to colorfully illustrated travel guidebooks. The reader could enjoy such a voluminous magazine carrying a wide range of article genres for only one 50-sen coin or even less (in the case of buying an old issue or through joint-purchase) for a full month’s worth of entertainment. By 1930, moreover, mass-market women’s magazines had become fully commercialized and entertainment-oriented. Articles focused ever more on humor, visual pleasure, human interest, and show business. Thanks to intense visualization, even the so-called “practical articles” became a 98 form of entertainment showing the readers the latest fashion trends, types of food, and rare inside stories about the lives of various people. Extensive use of reader contributions allowed them to participate and get involved more earnestly and enthusiastically in the mediated community offered by the magazines. With various tie-ups, media mixing, and free gifts, the magazine as a whole had become deeply connected with other industries. Differences from “General Magazines” and “Cultured” Women’s Magazines In this way, during the 1920s, women’s magazines developed their own magazine style distinct from other magazine genres. This magazine style specifically contradicted the standard format of the so-called “general magazine” in all aspects. First, in terms of the content, the general magazine carried mainly signed editorial articles and belles-lettres. As Ōya Sōichi later recalled, high-quality “general” magazines of the time were “just like compilations of university professors’ papers that were difficult to read, or, at least one could say that they were not written for the readers’ sake.”75 The women’s magazine, on the other hand, included mixed sorts of writings, such as confessional stories, dictated talks, interviews, round-table talks, serial novels, comics, and pictorial sections, many of which were not bylined. As I will explain in detail in Chapter Five, including fewer bylined editorials and more reader submissions instead of employing “star” professional writers was one of the new editing strategies in interwar Japan. Secondly, they were different from each other in the topics they featured. General magazines dealt with “serious” themes, such as politics, philosophy, aesthetics, economics, and even natural sciences. In contrast, women’s magazines featured various human-interest stories about diverse people ranging from ordinary people in the countryside to celebrities in show business or the 75 Ōya 1955/1956, 55. Kitada also observes the same tendency among magazines for intellectuals of the time (Kitada 1998, 155–179). 99 sociopolitical world. Also characteristic of mass-market women’s magazines were miscellaneous how-to articles about anything concerning everyday life activities, such as housework, fashion, social skills, medical and health affairs, and manners for special life events, i.e., “trivials” that were never featured in general magazines. Moreover, their editing techniques were diametrically opposed to each other. As shown above, mass-market women’s magazines consisted of radically oral-oriented texts, using a conspicuously colloquial writing system (desu/masu style) and including articles containing numerous quotations of various people’s utterances. Each issue usually had at least a few features consisting solely of submissions from ordinary readers. In contrast, general magazines mostly included editorial columns and articles in serious essay style, and creative writings that were all written by specialists, almost all of which were rendered in a detached, dry writing system (da/de aru style). In addition, the two magazine genres contrasted in their differing use of visuals. On the one hand, mass-market women’s magazines distinguished themselves from other types of magazines by their extensive deployment of images. Each component, even a column of readers’ letters, was accompanied by several illustrations or photographic images, some of which were even printed in vivid color. The lengthy pictorial sections were a signature of mass-market women’s magazines. An article in a “general magazine,” on the other hand, was not accompanied by visual images, except for a few photos of the author or an illustration of the main theme of the essay. Photographic components were usually absent in general magazines, although occasionally either extremely artistic, avant-garde, or politically heavily loaded reportages were attached as special supplements.76 Their cover pages contrasted with each other, too. Mass-market women’s magazines boasted colorful, eye-catching covers, while those of general magazines were simple and inconspicuous. 76 For the distinctiveness of the mass-market women’s magazine of the time, see Maeshima 2009a. For the interwar women’s magazine’s use of visuals, see Maeshima 2007 and 2009b. 100 Furthermore, the entertainment-oriented nature and commercialization of popular women’s magazines clearly surpassed “general magazines.” Each issue of mass-market women’s magazines had more than one supplementary item, accompanied by various media events. Some of their contents were even collaborations with other media or industries. With the exception of a few large-scale but still infrequent media events and occasional special supplements, such content was not common practice for general magazines. Placement of flashy advertisements within the magazines themselves as well as in other media was also common among popular women’s magazines, whereas advertisements for general magazines were rather sober. Differences from Other Popular Magazines and Pictorial Magazines Interwar mass-market women’s magazines differed from other contemporary popular magazines as well. Most other popular magazines were dedicated to a few specific interests, such as movies (magazines like Eiga taimusu, Shōchiku kinema, Hōgakuza gurafu, Nikkatsu gahō), theatrical plays (Engei gahō, Teatoro), detective stories (Shinseinen), historical novels (Ōru yomimono, Kuraku), historical storytelling (Kōdan kurabu), literature in general (Bungaku kai, Shinchō, Bungei shunjū, Josei), and fashion (Sōen, Kimono no ehon).77 On the other hand, mass-market women’s magazines did not specialize in one or two themes; rather, they consisted of a mass of relatively short components on a wide variety of topics presented in various oral-oriented writing and visual techniques. In fact, it was the policy of Ishikawa Takeyoshi, the founder of Shufu no tomo, to include in one issue as many diverse components as possible. He reasoned that if a magazine relied too heavily on one kind of item, it might lose readers if there were something wrong with that particular 77 Toward the mid-1930s, however, following suit of the mass-market women’s magazines, these specialized popular magazines, such as Kōdan kurabu, gradually expanded the range of their contents. 101 item. Even in the heyday of serialized novels, he saw to it that the magazine did not include too many popular novels in order to avoid dependency on one particular item.78 Indeed, women’s magazines that relied too much on one popular item saw a drop in circulation once readers got tired of reiterations of the same style of component. For example, in the 1920s, Fujin sekai put excessive emphasis on sensational confession stories, and Fujokai on serial novels. As a result, thought it may not have been the only factor, both had to cease publication in the 1930s.79 Moreover, mass-market women’s magazines were much more intensively visualized than other pleasure magazines, even those dedicated to visual articles. By the end of 1924, Shufu no tomo had devoted 20 pages to photography: in a 13-page opening photo-picture section and a 7-page photogravure section inserted in the middle of each issue. Even thereafter, the number of pages in each photograph section continuously grew until the mid-1930s. In fact, these women’s magazines pleased their readers with even more extensive use of photography than weekly pictorial magazines of the day such as Asahi gurafu or Sandē mainichi. The former had 7 out of 16 pages as pictorial section in 1923 (later all to be covered with photo articles), and the latter had 4 out of 24 in 1922 (8 from 1931). In 1933, 80 pages (14.2%) out of 560 pages of popular women’s magazines such as Shufu no tomo were reserved for their pictorial sections. Shinseinen, a magazine famous for its detective stories and avant-garde photographic works, barely had 16 photographic pages at that time. Arguably, limited entertainment budgets may have been the key to the success of mass-market women’s magazines; with a budget that could afford only one or two magazines a month, it was natural for readers to select a magazine with a variety of entertaining components, which also could be consumed as a collection of practical information, as provided by the popular women’s 78 Shufu no Tomosha, ed. 1967, 181, 710; Ishii 1940, 94, 97. 79 On Fujin sekai in this respect, see Komaki 1927, 68; Chiba et al. 1928, 106; Nakamura 1928, 11–12; Naimushō Keihokyoku 1929, x–31; Nii 1931, 273; Sugiyama 1935/1934, 119. On Fujokai, see Chiba 1933, 133; Sugiyama 1935/1934, 119. 102 magazine. As shown in the previous chapter, statistically the popularity of general entertainment magazines such as mass-market women’s magazines is obvious. The multitudinous components of popular women’s magazines must have contributed to attracting a wider range of readers than other popular magazines could.80 Differences from Kingu Mass-market women’s magazines were even distinct from another best-selling popular magazine of the time, Kingu. Certainly, the two had some traits in common. First of all, both types of magazines consisted of miscellaneous short stories and were well integrated with other industries, which must have contributed to their unprecedented circulations at a time when people’s disposable income was limited. Contemporary critics noted these similarities. When they discussed popular magazines, they usually mentioned women’s magazines together with Kingu, and vice versa.81 Tosaka Jun even categorized them as the same type of entertainment-oriented magazine genre.82 Their similarities were no coincidence. An editor then working at Kōdansha confessed that they designed the format and contents of Kingu on a mixture of the most popular magazines of the day in Japan as well as in the US. Combining the best elements from the enormous popularity of American magazines such as the Saturday Evening Post and Ladies’ Home Journal, entertainment magazines such as Omoshiro kurabu and Kōdan kurabu, and women’s magazines such as Shufu no tomo and Fujokai, as well as children’s magazines, they created the basic format of this new 80 Arguably, this financial backdrop is one of the reasons why, unlike in Europe or North America, pictorial magazines or pictorial newspapers were not as prevalent in interwar Japan as a source of daily news (see Chapter Two). 81 Hayasaka 1930, 119–120; Kishi 1930, 163–166; Kimura Ki 1933/1930, 193–196; Sugiyama 1935/1934, 118,135; Ōya 1959/1929, 189–190; Ōya 1959/1935, 197, 203–204. 82 Tosaka 1937, 345. Likewise, Akita also regarded the women’s magazine as an entertainment-oriented magazine (Akita 1927, 69). 103 magazine, the intent of which was “to feature novels and include miscellaneous articles.”83 Satō Takumi speculates that Kingu must have adopted certain strategies from popular women’s magazines, such as its cover page design, commission-based sales, one-coin policy, supplements, free gifts, and various media events in order to systematically organize its readers together.84 Yet, in fact, the interwar mass-market women’s magazines were not identical to Kingu, after all. Kingu was more inclined to directly teach moral lessons and politico-economic as well as scientific knowledge through components such as short quizzes on current affairs, basic concepts of national sciences, famous people in the worlds of politics, business, art, and academia; ranking lists (banzuke) of countries in terms of production of certain raw materials or industrial products, GNP, military power, or infant death rate; moral stories concerning great persons or famous historical episodes; speeches by well-known politicians and educators. While Kingu defined itself as a “family magazine” (katei zasshi) just like mass-market women’s magazines, articles on everyday life activities or stories based on ordinary people’s everyday lives occupied only one to two pages of the magazine. One can see Kingu’s inclination toward moral lessons and reading materials rather than visuals or stories about stars in show business from a contemporary critic, Kishiyama Osamu’s analysis of the contents of the April 1930 issue of the magazine. According to him, the magazine’s components fell largely into the following seven categories: miscellaneous fragmentary components as amusement (32.0%), feudalistic moral-teaching fictions (25.6%), detective stories and similar “true stories” (23.4%), capitalist success stories (18%), nonsense (probably meaning “humorous or comic stories”) (12.8%), knowledge about natural science, international news, and the like (23.4%), 83 Shashi Hensan Iinkai, ed. 1959a, 607–611. 84 Satō Takumi 2002, 26–33. According to Satō, Kingu followed Omoshiro kurabu (founded in 1920) for its emphasis on advertising, an idea the founder of Kōdansha, Noma Seiji, borrowed from American magazines such as the Saturday Evening Post and Ladies’ Home Journal (Satō Takumi 2002, 131–133. His speculation is predicated on Noma’s own statements appearing in Noma 1936, 562). 104 and speeches by famous people concerning bourgeois, feudalistic morals (2.6%).85 One should keep in mind that “true stories” appearing in Kingu tended to highlight moral lessons far more clearly than those in popular women’s magazines. Thus, as its catch phrase reads, Kingu was edited so that it would be “interesting and useful” (omoshirokute tame ni naru). While being amused by light stories and short quizzes expressed in an accessible manner, readers could obtain moral teachings and knowledge about issues within the “masculine/public sphere.” In contrast, though mass-market women’s magazines did contain some knowledge and moral lessons, the way they presented them was more subtle and both the emphasis as well as the featured fields were different from Kingu. As stated above, popular women’s magazines included only a few directly moralistic articles, and few directly informative and instructive components about “masculine” politico-economic issues, such as editorials, quizzes, ranking lists of world powers, or speeches by famous people. Instead, in these women’s magazines, the emphasis was put on the everyday lives of ordinary people: confessional accounts by and about readers; articles teaching practical tips for everyday activities such as cooking, sewing, knitting, manners, appropriate behavior and dress codes for different situations, and human relationships; reportages, photo reportages, dramatized “true stories,” interviews, and round-table stories of people ranging from the unnamed to the famous. In their celebrity-related articles, those in show business were more often featured in these women’s magazines than in any other kinds of periodicals except for movie magazines,86 and the favored themes included not only the brilliance of their recent performances or creativity, but also their human aspects such as their life histories, private lives, and so on. In the 1930s, popular women’s magazines did indeed start including some articles on politics and economics, both domestic and international. Their styles were, however, quite different from that of Kingu. They 85 Kishiyama 1930, 171–172. 86 For movie magazines such as Eiga no tomo (Friends of the Movies), see Silverberg 2006, Chapter 3. 105 applied interview or round-table formats, reminding us of the styles of present-day “infotainment” television programs, rather than using statistics or editorial articles. In addition, their deployment of visuals was much more extensive than Kingu. In 1933, for instance, as mentioned above, major mass-market women’s magazines allotted around 80 pages to pictorial sections, which showed a great increase from 50 pages in 1931. The pictorial section of Kingu, on the other hand, was barely half the size of that of popular women’s magazines throughout the 1930s. In short, while still retaining their didactic nature, mass-market women’s magazines conspicuously focused on issues concerning the “feminine/private sphere” and entertainment in comparison to other popular magazines, including Kingu. The Mass-Market Women’s Magazines: A New Media Indeed, deploying more democratic and accessible editing styles such as colloquial language, visual elements, and reader submissions, heavily commercializing with other interconnected industries, and emphasizing issues regarding everyday life activities as well as entertainment, interwar popular women’s magazines constituted quite a new type of periodical of the day. An investigation conducted by Shakai Shinri Kenkyūjo in 1954 accidentally attested to the novelty of the mass-market interwar women’s magazines. Comparing Kingu and Kōdan kurabu, both founded before 1945, with the magazines published after that, such as Heibon (Mediocrity), the group of researchers analyzed that the latter placed a pronounced emphasis on visuals and entertaining light articles such as interviews, round-table talks, serial novels, and articles featuring movie stars.87 As I showed above, these characteristics already appeared in pre-WWII popular women’s magazines. Indeed, other kinds of popular magazines, such as Kingu and Kōdan kurabu, did include some entertaining stories written in an accessible style. They were, however, more 87 Shakai Shinri Kenkyūjo 1954, 296–301. Ōya (1955/1959, 55) also presents the same observation. 106 inclined toward cautionary stories, the lives of socially successful people, quizzes about current affairs, and historical fictions. Therefore, these popular magazines were more didactic and were intended to be read rather than to be seen. The extent of shock brought to the print/reading culture by the mass-market women’s magazine can be well grasped if one compares criticism over this magazine genre with that against Kingu. As shown above, this nationally popular magazine relied on many devices developed by the popular women’s magazine. It was inevitable that both of them received severe condemnations from critics. However, the criticism over Kingu was directed toward its massive commercialism as well as its overall totalitarian attitude rather than toward its content or style per se. In light of this comparison with other magazine genres, it would be safe to say that these mass-marketed women’s magazines anticipated the post-war popular magazine style. The astonishing popularity of mass-market women’s magazines probably derived from the fact that there were no comparably entertaining periodicals at that time. In this regard, it is highly suggestive that some of the best-known charismatic editors of popular magazines in post-WWII era Japan were those who had gotten their initial professional training at Shufu no Tomo Sha. For example, Hongō Yasuo, who was once the editor-in-chief for Shufu no Tomo after Ishikawa’s retirement, founded Myōjō (Phosphor) (1952) and Shūkan Myōjō (Weekly Phosphor), published from Shūeisha, both of which are known as the path-breaking new entertainment-oriented magazines in the post war era. Imaida Isao, who received training as editor under the guidance of Ishikawa and Hongō at Shufu no tomo, became the editor-in-chief of a pioneering fashion magazine, Sōen (Fashion Garden, founded in 1936 from Bunka Shuppankyoku) and launched several leading fashion magazines including Misesu (Mrs., 1960) and Ginka (Silver Flower, 1967).88 One could say that the influence of interwar 88 On Hongō, Imaida, and major editors after 1945, see Umesao 1989; Shiozawa 1994; Terada, ed. 2003; Takahashi 2006. It is highly suggestive that features of post-war magazines such as Myōjō and Heibon, including the abundance of entertainment-oriented stories, visuals images, and round-talk 107 mass-market women’s magazines lasted even well after WWII in the publishing world. An accessible editing style with extensive use of a colloquial writing system and visuals, promotion of readers’ active self-involvement in the magazine community, and an inclination toward everyday concerns and entertainment—these are all innovations created or developed by interwar mass-market women’s magazines that were to become standard strategies in the post-WWII publishing world. Therefore, it would not be quite appropriate to call this type of periodical simply a more developed version of the existing women’s magazine. Nor might it be enough to consider it to be merely a new magazine genre, for it changed the very concept of what a magazine should be like. It would be most accurate, then, to apply the title of “new media” to the interwar mass-market women’s magazines. articles, remind us of those of Shufu no tomo and other similar popular women’s magazines in the interwar period (Shakai Shinri Kenkyūjo 1954, 294–306). 108 Chapter 4: Rethinking Interwar Japanese Mass-Market Women’s Magazines: The Democratization of Print/Reading Culture and Gender Categories As shown in the previous chapter, by the end of the 1920s the mass-market women’s magazine had developed into a distinctive magazine genre. With extensive visualization, an inclination toward human-interest stories, heavy emphasis on orality in writing styles, intensive commercialization, an orientation toward entertainment and diverse multifunctional components, popular women’s magazines provided readers with an innovative and unprecedented reading experience. This “new medium” influenced the print media and reading culture in interwar Japan, which sparked heated discussions on the mass-market women’s magazine. This chapter will present an overview of the influence the interwar popular women’s magazine had on the contemporary print and reading cultures and consider the significance and implications of controversies over the increasingly dominant, yet at the same time peculiarly underestimated position of this particular magazine genre. Influence on Reading Habits A New Media Introducing a New Mode of Reading The novel form and content of women’s magazines affected their audience’s reading habits. In the case of “general magazines,” one needed to read each article attentively in order to understand their discussions over quite abstract topics in the fields of philosophy, politics, economics, business, current affairs, history, arts, and so on, all of which were rendered in a dry, detached tone with few to no illustrations. Moreover, each article tended to cover more than five pages, which necessitated that people concentrate on reading for appreciable lengths of time. By contrast, in the case of women’s magazines, while readers were still free to read each story very carefully as they would do 109 for articles in general magazines and those edited in a similar style, they could also enjoy the miscellaneous stories and pictorial articles as a leisure activity, or even simply to pass the time. While most other magazines, including the best-selling King, were still intensely text-oriented, the dismantlement of the dual-section format by the women’s magazines made them a kind of “visual magazine.” The intense visualization of mass-market women’s magazines introduced a new habit to the readers: that is, that of “looking at” articles as a leisure activity rather than “reading” them to obtain the latest knowledge or to learn about morals. Accessible and enjoyable short articles on familiar topics, such as everyday life issues and entertainment, rendered in an oral-oriented writing style and with a great number of visuals also made such a variety of reading modes possible. Many critics in the 1920s and 1930s witnessed this shift in readers’ habits, and described it as a change from “reading” to “looking” among readers of popular women’s magazines. Such a change in reading style was pointed out already in the early 1920s. Critic Yamakawa Kikue’s “Sakkarin ryōri to fujin zasshi (Saccharin Food and Women’s Magazines)” appearing in the October 1922 issue of Chūō kōron is one of the early examples. She claims, “Knowledge knows no national boundaries; let alone sexual/gender bounds.” Therefore, she insists, women should “decline special treatment as women in the country of knowledge.” Instead, “[i]n order to obtain their share of all the knowledge necessary to human beings as well as to members of society, women need to get accustomed to training their brains by wading through quality magazines and books. This very effort is the first step to relieving women psychologically from their state of slavery.”1 Such a remark implied that the habit of reading difficult materials had already become rare, at least among women. The following remark by educator Miwada Motomichi in a round-table discussion appearing in the June 1928 issue of Shinchō is another such observation: “It would be more 1 Yamakawa 1922, 159. 110 appropriate to say ‘seeing a women’s magazine’ rather than ‘reading’ one.”2 Miwada: In short, [to new ordinary readers,] magazines are a means of satisfying their desire for knowledge, and this knowledge is not always the same as that necessary in one’s life. It’s a kind of psychological leisure, so to speak. For instance, look at a nurse sitting by the bed of a patient. When she gets bored, she will pick up an old magazine or such. Also, a passenger who has spent a long time in a train will open an old newspaper. In this way, it is natural that hunger for knowledge enhances as human culture develops. The enormous popularity of women’s magazines will merely come from such a need to satisfy one’s appetite for knowledge. (Chiba et al., 1928, 105) Critic and journalist Ōya Sōichi also offered similar comments on these new reading habits, this time, of both sexes: As capitalism draws to an end, tendencies in ordinary people’s lives toward self-discipline and diligence gradually decline. In their stead, inclinations toward excitement and hedonism increasingly intensify. […] [I]t used to be a great pleasure and source of pride to make efforts to read whatever, no matter how abstruse. Now, however, one cannot find such tendencies even among the intelligentsia, let alone in the general public. Works that cannot be easily digested on the train are no longer read except by a few exceptionally 2 Chiba et al., 105–106. As I already explained in Chapter Two, the participants in this round-table talk are the following contemporary commentators: Chiba Kameo (critic and journalist), Miwada Motomichi (educator), Miyake Yasuko (writer and critic), Nakamura Murao (editor, writer, and critic), Nii Itaru (writer and critic), Satō Haruo (poet, novelist, dramatist and writer), Tokuda Shūsei (novelist), and Yamakawa Kikue (socialist, feminist, and acrivist). Most of them were men: only two, that is, Miyake and Yamakawa, were women. 111 charitable persons.3 […] [Fictional works are not the only ones neglected.] One can also say the same thing about the magnificent “essays” that once used to grace the opening pages of “quality magazines.” (1929/1959, 189–190) Later, in 1955, Ōya noticed the prevalence of the habit of reading fragmentary magazine articles in one’s everyday spare time.4 Though he pointed it out as a new phenomenon in society, it had already been practiced since the 1920s as his own statement quoted above suggests. Multiplex Reading Habits Still, not all readers of mass-market women’s magazines regarded these magazines as a source of distraction. Some letters from readers stated that they considered women’s magazine as a substitute for their high school education (Shufu no tomo Dec. 1919, 156; Feb. 1920, 158–9), as a textbook for real society (Shufu no tomo Aug. 1917, 133), or even as parents (Shufu no tomo Dec. 1920, 197–198). These comments suggest that some read magazines in this genre attentively and seriously. Contemporary critics observed that, having no spare time to read newspapers every day, readers, especially female ones in the countryside, cultivated their miscellaneous knowledge by reading popular women’s magazines, which were full of various articles.5 And, indeed, these popular women’s magazines did offer some knowledge, albeit presented in an entertaining manner, and still included some clearly didactic components—although they no longer constituted the majority—in addition to ample amusing ones. It was not only the variety of articles that allowed readers both to seriously peruse and to casually enjoy browsing mass-market women’s magazines. Since most stories were multifunctional, 3 For more on reading habits while commuting by train, see Nagamine (2001, 43–50). 4 Ōya 1959/1955, 57 5 Miyake’s and Chiba’s comments in Chiba et al. 1928, 105. 112 as shown above, readers could relish the same article in diverse ways. Thus, articles on domestic chores expressed in the format of comic strips or photo narratives could provide readers with useful practical information about issues like how to entertain guests at home or how to prepare for the New Year, offer enjoyable narratives for their amusement and imaginary indulgence, as well as present a stimulating invitation to an ideal modern life surrounded by plenty of up-to-date commodities. As some critics pointed out, most components of popular women’s magazines must have worked as a guide to the abundance of commodity culture, particularly to those who were not so prosperous in the countryside and “would have no chance to visit Tokyo in their whole lives.”6 Likewise, while reportage featuring a couple who moved to a colonial southern island, started their business and overcame various difficulties could be read as a journalistic documentary about “facts,” it could also pass as a thrilling adventure story. As contemporary philosopher Tosaka Jun’s insight into articles in popular magazines maintained, all articles based on “facts” concerning others’ private lives—including “true” stories, confessions, memoirs, interviews, and round-table talks—inevitably provided readers with “amusement (goraku).”7 Moreover, a single reader’s way of reading magazines was not always the same. A person who sometimes flipped through a women’s magazine in her/his spare time might at another time pore over the same periodical in order to get some practical information or moral inspiration, just as is common practice today.8 Thus, interwar popular women’s magazines did not promote a particular manner of reading that took over earlier attentive reading practices; rather, they added to them. Interestingly, however, when contemporary intellectuals discussed reading culture of the time, they always emphasized the shift from a “reading” to a “browsing/looking at” approach, as will be 6 Miyake 1928, 122. 7 Tosaka 1937, 343－348. 8 Hermes (1995) observes the same phenomenon among the readers, both men and women, of women’s magazines in the Netherlands in the 1990s. 113 examined later in this chapter. The fuss that critics made nonetheless about the habit of “browsing/looking at” popular women’s magazines attests to how novel and distracting this habit was to a certain group of people in the society of the time. Democratization/Tabloidization of Print Culture In “Light” Periodicals In a sense, these mass-market women’s magazines were a new form of media for people in interwar Japan. Interestingly, however, one can also find some of the abovementioned features of popular women’s magazines in other print media of the time in Japan.9 As might be easily predicted, other popular magazines, then categorized as “light” or “vulgar” periodicals, were also quick to democratize their editing styles. As already mentioned, it is known that one of the most popular magazines of the time, Kingu, extensively and deliberately adopted many of the strategies developed by mass-market women’s magazines: miscellaneous content, the use of an orally-oriented style, plentiful visuals, free promotional gifts and supplements, large-scale advertising campaigns, 10 systematization and cultivation of readers through various media events.11 One should not forget that some new editorial and promotional methods, such as the use of postcards as supplements or the use of a colloquial writing style, were first adopted by boys’ and girls’ magazines. In particular, the introduction of supplements and the mobilization of readers through media events had already been widely practiced before the women’s magazine became 9 For the present purpose, this dissertation will focus mainly on magazines for adults. 10 It is well-known in the history of Japanese publishing that Noma Seiji, the founder of the major publishing house Kōdansha, deployed a massive advertising campaign in launching Kingu, with the use of full-page newspaper ads, direct mail, fliers, pamphlets, huge posters, promotional marching bands (chindon ya), banner ads set up in front of bookstores across the nation, and so on (Satō Takumi 2002, 8). As we saw in the previous chapter, most of these techniques had already been practiced by popular women’s magazines. 11 Satō Takumi also pointed out some of these similarities between Kingu and women’s magazines (2002, 28–33). 114 mass-marketed in the interwar period. Postcard supplements offered by boys’ magazines were said to have promoted the popularity of postcards as items for collection since around the time the postcard was officially introduced to Japan in 1900.12 In the 1910s, magazines for teenagers and children, including Shōjo sekai, Shōnen sekai, Shōjo no tomo, and Nihon shōnen, all set up lecture and story-telling national tours13. In “Serious” Periodicals It should further be noted that not only these “light” periodicals but “serious” ones also employed these methods. In particular, newspapers were quick in introducing new editorial methods for democratizing their components in order to obtain more subscribers. In fact, some such methods were first adopted among newspapers in Japan. The use of the American point system and the latest print technologies, as mentioned earlier, were a few such examples. It had been newspapers that had used advertisements the most intensively of all Japanese print media until mass-market women’s magazines supplanted their primacy in this field in the late 1910s.14 In addition, as early as January 1879, Tōkyō nichi nichi shinbun presented its subscribers with two kinds of maps, “Ajia zenshū ryakuzu (abbreviated map of Asia)” and “Chūō ajia shoshū bunkyōzu (map of provincial border lines of Central Asia),” as supplements in its New Year issue. These maps are considered to be the first use of supplements in Japanese periodicals.15 Grandiose media events are the best-known examples of modern promotional strategies newspapers are credited with inventing. The first newspaper-promoted event was a fireworks festival 12 For postcard supplements, see Satō Kenji 1994, 16–71. Especially 38–48; for the use of the colloquial style, see Maeshima 2009a. 13 For the organization of readers through various events by boys’ magazines, see Yamamoto Masahide 1971, 378–410; Iwata 1997, 41–426; Ueda 2001, 98–104. For the case of girls’ magazines, see Satō Sakuma 1996, 47–122; Nagai Kiyoko 1995, 279–280, 292–306. 14 Kitada 2000, 48–73, 127–183. 15 Oka 1981, 119–120. 115 held by Asahi shinbun in Ōsaka in 1880 to commemorate its anniversary. Following this, the newspaper held various lecture tours by famous intellectuals, including Natsume Sōseki, exhibitions, as well as theatrical plays in different cities. The paper even sponsored extensive overseas tours (1906, 1908, 1910) and research expeditions to the South Pole (1910) and Manchu-Mongolia (1933).16 Asahi shinbun’s rival paper, Mainichi shinbun, also promoted similar events: a series of open lectures by professors at Kyoto Imperial University for the public, held in various cities (1908); Investigation of Currents around Japan (1913); Secondary School National Football Games (1918–); and the Japanese Art Exhibition (1923).17 Among the events sponsored by newspapers, the most famous would be the National Secondary School Baseball Championship (today’s Summer National High School Baseball Championship)18 and the National Secondary School Baseball Invitational Tournament (today’s Spring National High School Invitational Tournament),19 both of which still continue today as major seasonal national sporting events.20 Moreover, as already mentioned in Chapter Two, major newspapers also sponsored diverse exhibitions such as children’s exhibitions and exhibitions about the new communications medium of radio. Around the time of the introduction of radio programming to Japan, each newspaper held public experiments and exhibitions concerning this new technology to fuel people’s interest in it.21 Although these events did not directly aim to promote subscribership, considering their impact on their participants as well as those who read about them in the media or heard about them by word of mouth, they must also have had some promotional appeal in the long run.22 16 For more detailed information about these events, see Asahi Shinbun Hyakunenshi Henshū Iinkai, ed. 1995d, 358–409. 17 Mainichi Shinbun Hyakunenshi Kankō Iinkai, ed. 1972, 544–572. On lecture tours, exhibitions, and charity events organized in Meiji-era by newspapers, see Yamamoto Taketoshi 1996, 31–59. 18 Founded in 1915 by Ōsaka asahi shinbun and Tōkyō asahi shinbun. 19 Launched in 1924 by Ōsaka mainichi shinbun and Tōkyō nichi nichi shinbun. 20 Ariyama 1996, 61–88. 21 Sakata 2002, 162–175. 22 On various media events held by newspapers, general magazines, radio stations, and the like between 116 Just like nation-wide newspapers, quality magazines also organized events on a massive scale. The most successful examples were the lectures by internationally famous people that were sponsored by Kaizō. The magazine invited Bertrand Russell in 1921 and Margaret Higgins Sanger Slee and Albert Einstein in 1922 to present lectures in various cities around the country. The magazine issues featuring these individuals and their lectures sold well. Of these, the New Year issue of 1923 entitled “Einstein Special Issue” recorded astronomical sales.23 In a sense, these massive media events organized by “serious” periodicals such as national newspapers and quality magazines anticipated the similarly large-scale events that would later be sponsored by interwar women’s magazines, such as Shufu no tomo’s invitation of Helen Keller to Japan for various lectures and talks in 1937. “Serious” interwar periodicals also adopted some of the accessible, new editing strategies, if not so extensively or as regularly as popular women’s magazines of the time did. For example, round-table talks and supplements in particular were preferred even by quality magazines such as Chūō kōron and Kaizō. In 1934, Tosaka observed, “the round-table talk is rampant among all the magazines and the newspapers” (1937, 342). Likewise, seeing the competition among the New Year issues of quality magazines in 1935, critic Sugiyama Heisuke lamented: One can see “special prices” and “supplements” as usual. […] [E]ven so-called “quality magazines” such as Chūō kōron and Kaizō seemed not to be able to resist using them. (1935/1934, 11) 1877, when the first National Industrial Exhibition was held, until 1945, the end of WWII, see papers included in Tsuganezawa, ed. 1996. 23 Yokoyama 1966, 15. 117 “Home Section” in the Newspaper In the newspaper, such accessible editing strategies were most intensively and consciously employed in the “Home Section (katei-ran or katei-men)” or “Women’s Section (fujin-ran or fujin-men).” Indeed, the newspaper was one of the first periodicals to pay attention to domesticity. Ōsaka mainichi shinbun, for example, inserted a “home section” (katei-ran) entitled “Homemaker’s bookmark” (Katei no shiori) as early as March 6, 1898. This was preceded by almost a decade by Saga shinbun with its serialized article on child-raising.24 Still, from the end of the 19th century to the early 20th century, such newspaper columns on homemaking were allotted only several lines or so. It was only after mass-market women’s magazines became popular during the interwar period that newspapers started treating the home section seriously as a promotional tool. The first newspaper to expand this section was Yomiuri shinbun. In 1926, the new president of the newspaper, Shōriki Matsutarō, invited specialists who had already established their careers as popular writers in women’s magazines to join the section’s editorial board. The main purpose of this new effort was to extend readership and save the foundering company.25 Noticing Yomiuri’s success, other major newspapers such as Tōkyō asahi shinbun and Ōsaka mainichi shinbun also included or extended their own home sections.26 The contents of the sections were quite similar to those of mass-market women’s magazines. The chief editor of Yomiuri’s home section, Hirano Matenrō27 maintained that diversity 24 Kawashima 1996, 60. Ishikawa Takeyoshi, the founder of Shufu no tomo, later recalled that a newspaper in Sendai, Kahoku shinpō, had included a “Home Section (katei-ran)” that consisted of a boxed article featuring readers’ contributions on subjects such as domestic chores, child-raising, make-up, and medicines. This was one of the printed materials that inspired him to enter the publishing industry (Shufu no Tomosha, ed. 1967, 41). 25 Minami et al. 1965, 347–348. 26 On the development of home section in Japanese newspapers, see Kawashima (1996) and Hayashi (2000). 27 “Matenrō” is a Japanese translation of “skyscrapers,” especially those in New York. Thus, his pseudonym implies his inclination toward or obsession with American journalism and American-style modernity. 118 in the home section was necessary to prevent an impression of tedium and to continuously attract readers. The themes he mentioned as suitable for the section were as follows: women’s thoughts; aspects of contemporary society; women’s liberation; critical analysis of hot issues both domestic and international; investigations about beauty, hairstyle, and fashion; leisure and entertainment; handicrafts; gardening; cooking; improvement of lifestyle; child-raising, medical and sanitary affairs; history of women’s fashion; women’s lifestyles abroad; female students; practical issues for housewives; science in the home; surveys of department stores; studies on the kitchen and consumer culture; and serialized readings (1930, 6–8). Though some of these sections were entitled “women’s sections,” the targeted readership was not restricted to women, just as women’s magazines at the time were not aimed exclusively at female readers. According to Hirano, the home section (at least that of Yomiuri) was edited so as to invite “all family members to enjoy at ease whenever they wish” (1930, 13). It should be noted that Hirano insisted that the section concerning “home” inevitably attracted not only women but also men, who were, after all, “co-managers of the home” (1930, 3). Thus, elevating the home section to a featured page in newspapers served not only to attract female readers; it was meant, in the end, to make the newspaper as a whole more inclusive or “democratic” by attracting all kinds of people. Hirano’s remarks on editing strategies and the target readership of the newspaper’s home section reminds us of Shufu no tomo’s editing policies set by Ishikawa, which was mentioned in the previous chapters. One of the most popular features of the home section was the “advice column” (minoue sōdan). Letters from supposedly ordinary readers asking experts for advice appeared regularly in the newspapers and provided their readers with themes for light (sometimes serious) conversation in everyday life, some of which stimulated debates across the entire nation. At the same time, this column also caused a lot of controversy. For instance, a letter from an agonized woman who had got 119 pregnant after being raped by a robber aroused readers’ curiosity through its shock value.28 The advice column of the Yomiuri shinbun was so popular that one of its advisers, Yamada Waka,29 became the target of mockery at lunch or break times among white-collar office workers in Marunouchi.30 She was rumored to have been the model for the character of a judgmental advice column commentator in the serialized novel “Three Families” (San katei) by popular novelist Kikuchi Kan, which also appeared in the Yomiuri shinbun. When the novel was dramatized for the stage and the actor (female impersonator) Eitarō played her role, the audience, reminded of Yamada, burst into laughter.31 This anecdote epitomizes how widely the newspaper advice column was read by a range of different people. Advice columns in newspapers were quite similar to human interest stories in mass-market women’s magazines. In fact, as contemporary critic Chiba Kameo has pointed out, while the advice columns may have started in vulgar “small newspapers” (koshinbun) in Tokyo,32 it was women’s magazines that first turned them into one of their features in the 1920s, stimulated by the success of human interest articles such as confessional stories.33 Thus, in a sense, newspaper home sections with various features on domesticity including advice columns in the 1930s were an adaptation of efforts made by women’s magazines in the 1920s. 28 For episodes appearing in the advice column of the Yomiuri shinbun of this time, including the rape-by-robber story, see Katarogu Hausu, ed. 2002. 29 She was also one of the regular commentators for mass-market women’s magazines including Shufu no tomo. 30 Sugiyama 1935e, 364–365. 31 Sugiyama 1935e, 369. 32 According to Chiba, Miyako shinbun was the first newspaper among existing papers to include an advice column (1933, 132). Okino Iwasaburō recalled that, as early as 1910, Tōkyō mainichi shinbun already had such a column (1933, 130). Tōkyō mainichi shinbun was originally published as Yokohama mainichi shinbun in 1879, and was the first daily newspaper in Japan. As a result of worsening business conditions, it became a subsidiary of Hōchi shinbun in 1909 and later was further absorbed by Teito nichi nichi shinbun in 1940. Thus, the Tōkyō mainichi shinbun of that era was completely different from today’s Mainichi shinbun, whose main predecessor in Tokyo is Tōkyō nichi nichi shinbun. On the development of various newspapers in modern Japan including Tōkyō mainichi shinbun, see Yamamoto Taketoshi (1978). On the small newspaper in the Meiji Era, see Tsuchiya 2002. 33 Chiba 1933, 133. 120 As shown above, the various attempts by interwar magazines to achieve more accessible articles and to promote circulation were not limited to popular women’s magazines of the day. Nor were they practiced only by popular magazines. Rather, they were tested, in varying degrees, by diverse periodicals, including “serious” ones. Therefore, it would be safe to say that the democratization or modernization of print media in Japan was not brought about entirely by the women’s magazine alone, but rather by various contemporary periodicals,34 or through their mutual influences. Meanwhile, the periodical genre that most extensively adopted and most drastically developed new editing and promoting strategies would be the popular women’s magazine. Democratized and accessible strategies, were, then, a result of the inevitable course of print media development in modern society. The Controversies over Interwar Mass-Market Women’s Magazines Criticism of the Interwar Mass-Market Women’s Magazine In spite of their appearance in a broad range of media, contemporary intellectuals did not problematize democratizing strategies as a corollary of the natural development of print culture. Instead, they criticized these methods as “ways of women’s magazines.” Sugiyama Heisuke is one of those who repeatedly complained that the majority of periodicals were becoming too much like 34 In fact, these features were observed not only in periodicals, but in diverse print media including books. For instance, in 1926, when Kaizōsha started subscription sales of the first one-yen anthology series of modern Japanese literature, it conducted a massive advertising campaign by chartering 15 taxis to solicit subscriptions all around and near Tokyo and providing booksellers with special banners and happi-coats (short jackets) with the publisher’s logo on them for publicity (Matsubara 2000). These one-yen literature collection series were to be called “enpon” ([one] yen books) and are sometimes translated into English as Japanese “dime novels” or “penny dreadfuls.” However, unlike American dime novels or British penny dreadfuls, Japanese one-yen book anthologies included not only popular literature, but also “serious” literary works. In fact, the founder of Kaizōsha, Yamamoto Sanehiko, was persuaded to inaugurate this series by Kimura Ki, who insisted on publishing a Japanese equivalent of the “Harvard Classics,” originally published in 1909 as “Dr. Eliot’s Five-Foot Shelf” (Kimura Ki 1967/1938, 4–25). 121 women’s magazines. Observing that most magazines’ New Year issues in 1935 (published in December 1934) included “enough supplements to compete with women’s magazines” for the purpose of attracting more readers, he cynically poked fun at general magazines by suggesting, “How about quality magazines’ starting a supplement competition against each other?”35 It would appear that, to him, supplements were not simply a generic strategy to increase readership; they were a promotional method specifically to be used by “women’s magazines.” Aono Suekichi expressed a similar observation to Sugiyama’s in a more direct manner in his analysis of the history of magazine culture. With its thorough commercialism, its concomitant sensory stimulation, entertainment aspects, and “practicality,” the women’s magazine […] recently came to hold sufficient power to lead, in a sense, magazine culture. One can observe, for example, that even major general magazines and newspapers have adopted such methods used by women’s magazines to one degree or another. (Aono 1933, 9) It is noteworthy that many contemporary critics36 regarded new editorial and promotional methods as “those of women’s magazines,” even though other kinds of periodicals also employed them. Why did critics furrow their brows at the introduction of such “bad habits of women’s magazines”? Why did women’s magazines emerge as the sole target of their criticism? At an empirical level, this phenomenon suggests that it was precisely mass-market women’s magazines that most effectively developed and most extensively deployed novel democratic methods in editing 35 Sugiyama 1935/1934, 18–19. 36 In addition to those cited in this study, such criticisms include the following: Takashima 1922, 55; Yamakawa 1922, 158; Akita 1927, 70; Chiba et al. 1928, 104, 106: Nii 1930, 105–107; Nii 1931, 272–277; Kimura 1933/1930, 175–176, 193–196; Aono 1933, 9; Ōya 1959/1929, 189–190; Ōya 1959/1934, 192–195; Ōya 1959/1935, 203–204; Ōya 1935, 5–22; Tosaka 1937, 342–349. 122 and promotion. At the discursive level, however, this suggestion requires further analysis. When we scrutinize the underlying logic proffered to support such criticism of women’s magazines, we are able to find what was at stake in these arguments, which, in turn, will shed light on the special characteristics of the democratization of print culture in Japan. Exclusive Condemnation of Popular Women’s Magazines As stated above, many critics condemned popular women’s magazines, which attracted a wide range of readers, including men. This does not mean, however, that these critics blamed all women’s magazines; nor did they insist on restricting the practice of reading only to men or to highly educated people. For example, some made nostalgic references to old women’s magazines, such as Katei zasshi, or the early Fujin kōron, both of which had male readers as well as female. In a round-table article on women’s magazines, novelist Satō Haruo favorably recalled how the already defunct Katei zasshi37 (which he evaluated as a “good magazine”) was read by both sexes in the Meiji period.38 This [= Katei zasshi] was an attempt to produce a substantial family magazine. It was read of course by women, but also by men, as family heads. Indeed, it was a substantial, good magazine. However, it did not sell well and folded (Chiba et al. 1928, 104). Critic Kimura Ki left similar positive comments on Jogaku sekai, which, unlike later women’s 37 Katei zasshi was a magazine published from September 1892 to July 1909 by a famous socialist, Sakai Toshihiko. It was originally published by Yuibunsha in 1903, then later, by Katei Zasshisha, and Heimin Shobō. This is a completely different periodical from another magazine with the same title, Katei zasshi, published by Tokutomi Sohō at Katei Zasshisha from September 1892 to August 1898 (Muta 1992, 133). 38 Chiba et al. 1928, 104. 123 magazines, included may articles attracting the interest of both sexes.39 As we have already seen in Chapter Two, from around the time of the foundation of Fujin sekai in 1906, the custom of men reading women’s magazines gradually diminished. Nevertheless, it still remained, if only to a limited extent, even in the interwar period. Hanzawa Seiji, an editor of Fujin kōron at that time, proudly wrote that more than one third of the readers of that magazine were men before the magazine started including popular articles such as those on films in a similar manner to that of the mass-market women’s magazine.40 Thus, some women’s magazines actually gained fame even among critics and attracting male subscribers was considered the sign of a good magazine. Not all changes developed or introduced by women’s magazines were condemned. In fact, during the 1910s and early 1920s Fujin kōron did inaugurate attempts to treat themes such as romantic love, marriage, and friendship between men and women in new ways. These were themes that had been regarded for a couple of decades as feminine, thus, “low” topics that should not be dealt with in quality magazines, which Fujin kōron was considered to be. With the November 1919 issue, Fujin kōron started offering a forum involving both sexes that allowed both female and male readers to submit their opinions to a “Free Forum” (jiyū rondan). Formerly, it was mostly male readers who were invited to participate in such public discussions in quality periodicals. Despite these novel strategies, the magazine was not criticized by the intellectuals.41 Rather, it earned a reputation as a “fairly sophisticated magazine (wariai kōshōna zasshi)”42 or an “ideal magazine (riskōteki no zasshi)”43 among intellectuals. It should be noted, however, that this effort by Fujin kōron to include both sexes in the magazine community had already been anticipated by Shufu no 39 Kimura 1933/1930, 194. Ogawa (1962, 69–70) also made the same observation. See Chapter Two of this dissertation. 40 Hanzawa 1986, 67. 41 Frederick (2006, 88) also aptly pointed out the magazine’s creation of a forum that was open to both sexes. 42 Tokuda Shūsei in Chiba et al. 1928, 105. 43 Naimushō keihokyoku 1929, x–26. 124 tomo, if in a somewhat different style. Now, it should be noted that these innovations by Fujin kōron were attempts executed within the “standard” quality magazine format. Although the inclusion of domestic issues and inviting female readers to participate in open debates were indeed new additions to the quality magazine after the gender division among magazine genres became established, Fujin kōron still deployed a formal style of discussion and a detached mode of writing that was characteristic of existing “general” magazines. In Fujin kōron, these so-called “light” topics were discussed “seriously,” as topics worthy of social debate, but not in a “light” or accessible manner as the expression of contributors’ personal experiences and feelings, as was seen in popular women’s magazines. Moreover, unlike its mass-market counterpart, the magazine continued to feature articles on themes that were conventionally considered to be “masculine,” “public” and “refined,” such as philosophy, politics, economics, history, international relations, belles-lettres, and so on. In addition, early Fujin kōron had a policy not to include confessional stories, interviews, popular serialized novels with an abundance of illustrations, or articles on movie stars, all of which were typical features of mass-market women’s magazines. In this way, until the late 1920s Fujin kōron was more like women’s magazines of the Meiji era, which employed formal editorial styles and inclined toward serious topics in order to cater to the interests of both male and female intellectuals, than it was to its contemporary popular women’s magazines, which were fully democratized in terms of both the themes it dealt with and the editing style to attract a wider range of readers. Labeling and Belittling New Strategies as “Feminine” Critics of this period, then, did not just cling to the rigid, fossilized magazine styles of the previous period. Nonetheless, in their eyes, changes were to be made within the format of the male-oriented quality magazine. This theory is supported by the fact that the expansion of readership of 125 general magazines to less-educated people was not condemned among critics. As historian Nagamine Shigetoshi revealed in his study on readership in interwar Japan, Kaizō, Chūō kōron, and Fujin kōron had some less-educated readers, especially after reducing their price.44 With the launch of its drastic price reduction from 80 sen to 50 sen—the same price as the average mass-market women’s magazine—from its February 1927 issue onwards, Kaizō expanded its readership beyond the elite readers it had originally targeted. As a consequence, at a certain newspaper company, everyone “including a 16- or 17-year-old assistant [was] holding a 50-sen Kaizō under his/her arm.”45 One such reader, Takai Toshio, a female worker (jokō) at a fabric factory, recalled her encounter with Kaizō, stating: “It was my first time to read such a difficult book, so it was too hard for me to understand the contents, but I read it every day again and again.”46 As far as my research of major (and semi-) “quality” magazines of the time—including Kaizō, Chūō kōron, Bungei shunjū, Shinchō and Fujin kōron—is concerned, there seems to have been no criticism of the above-mentioned magazines expanding their reach across class and gender in this way. Indeed, the expansion of readership of periodicals in general was not problematized in itself. Some critics even expressed their wish for a future when both sexes would read the same periodicals.47 They insisted that “in the world of knowledge, there are no national boundaries, nor sexual boundaries,” 48 and thus, “the time would come when both sexes could read the same magazines.”49 The diffusion of readership they dreamed of, however, was based on maintaining quality “general” magazines as the standard magazine format. Thus, whether or not new editorial styles were criticized depended chiefly on which gendered category of magazine format the 44 Nagamine 2001, 161–201 45 Takahata 1927. 46 Takai 1981, 35. 47 Takashima 1922, 61; Yamakawa 1922, 159; and Tokuda et al. 1928, 103, 110. 48 Yamakawa 1922, 159. 49 Takashima 1922, 61. 126 periodical belonged to. If changes in a given magazine reached beyond the format of the “quality magazine,” they could not escape critical reproach. Therefore, when a mass-market women’s magazine included articles on issues related to the “feminine/private” sphere and expanded its readership to men, critics condemned the magazine for its vulgarity, because the articles were rendered in an oral-oriented colloquial style, were heavily visualized, and included much less serious, abstract discussion in a formal manner. Comparing it to Jogaku sekai, Kimura Ki devalued Fujin sekai because the newer magazine was specifically devoted exclusively to “women’s issues.”50 Similarly, Fujin kōron’s gradual shift since 1928 toward a more democratic format that included a movie section, confessional stories, interviews, round-table talks, and heavy visualization in order to increase its readership was severely criticized by intellectuals for its “commercialization” and “lowering of content.”51 Differentiation and Classification of Print/Reading Culture By now it should be obvious that the predominance of the feminine particularly in terms of the editing style in the democratization of Japanese print culture as well as the accompanying changes in reading modes triggered a relentless and unprecedented condemnation of popular women’s magazines in interwar Japan. What, then, was the purpose of criticizing this new print media? Or, more importantly, what kinds of discourses concerning print/reading culture underlay these critical texts? Maintaining a Hierarchy of Print Culture The influence of popular women’s magazines on Japanese print/reading culture had 50 Kimura Ki. 1933/1930, 194 51 Nii 1931, 268; Satō Sumiko 1931, 295; Sugiyama 1935/1934, 137; Ōya 1959/1935, 249. 127 become so remarkable by 1930 that intellectuals could not easily ignore the dominance of these magazines. Critic Ōya Sōichi bluntly observed: The hegemony of the publishing world has completely shifted from the high-quality magazine like Kaizō and Chūō kōron to these popular magazines [i.e., the women’s magazine and the general popular magazine] […] So-called quality magazines, such as Chūō kōron, Kaizō, Bungei shunjū, Keizai ōrai, and the like, were, from the industrial viewpoint, dethroned in the world of journalism. (1959/1935, 248, 249). Similarly, Sugiyama Heisuke took “the fact that it is the women’s magazine that has the largest circulation in Japan today” to be the epitome of “the extraordinary expansion of the power of women in journalism.” According to him, the advice column boom among newspapers was one such phenomenon.52 Still, even when critics admitted the conspicuous influence of mass-market women’s magazines in the publishing world, they habitually put the women’s magazine in a lower position than the general magazine. The following remarks by critic Aono Suekichi are typical of such views. According to Aono, whereas the popular women’s magazine achieved “the power to lead magazine culture” and even to influence the editing style of general magazines and newspapers, one should still consider the magazine genre to be “of secondary importance.” In the development of Japanese magazine culture, the women’s magazine emerged a decade later [than the pioneering modern magazines]. […] and there is no doubt that this magazine genre should be of secondary importance. Nevertheless, its thorough 52 Sugiyama 1935/1934f, 455–456. 128 commercialism, and its accompanying sensational stimulation, entertaining and ‘practical’ characteristics, have achieved the power to lead magazine culture, in a sense. For example, one can observe that even major general magazines and newspapers have adopted methods of the women’s magazine to a varying degree. What a hell of an influence [this magazine genre has had], compared to the old days of Jogaku zasshi! (1993, 9) Likewise, while admitting the power of the women’s magazine as “one of the most powerful sectors in commercialism” with its “odd significance,”53 Sugiyama Heisuke continued to regard the general magazine as “the king of the magazine world.”54 In this way, in his numerous commentaries on print culture and journalism of the time, he never failed to maintain a hierarchy of magazine categories, placing the general magazine on top and the popular magazine, including the women’s magazine, at the bottom. Critics rationalized their devaluation of magazines by condemning the “light” content, such as confessional stories, interviews, round-table talks, and articles about movie stars, of the mass-market women’s magazine. They insisted that the contents of the women’s magazine were “vulgar” and “too commercialized and entertainment-oriented.” 55 Consequently, they criticized this 53 Sugiyama 1935/1934b, 108, 118. 54 Sugiyama 1935/1934b, 121. 55 Such binary opposition of “high” general magazines and “low” women’s magazines can be observed in the following essays, that is, most of the magazine-related commentaries: Koizumi 1922, 156; Akita 1927, 69; Chiba et al. 1928, 105, 112, 114–115; Hiratsuka 1928, 82–84; Naimushō Keihokyoku 1929, 23–34; Nii 1930, 107–109; Yamakawa 1930, 113–114; Sugiyama 1935/1934b, 104, 107, 113–114; Sugiyama 1935/1934c, 132–137; Sugiyama 1935/1934d, 138–145; Ōya 1959/1935a, 5–22; Ōya 1959/1935b, 435–443; Tosaka 1937, 342–349. It is telling that the similar resistance against and contemptuous attitude toward the democratization or popularization of editing style can be found concerning the editorial changes outside of magazines in the women’s page (fujin-men)” of contemporary newspapers. For instance, Hirano Matenrō, the chief editor of the “Women’s Section” in Yomiuri shinbun, self-mockingly wrote as follows: “There would be no job as difficult, troublesome, and socially disrespected as editor of the Women’s Section in a newspaper” (Hirano 1930, 2). In this way, while emphatically promoting the “Women’s Section (fujin-men or fujin-ran)” (also called “Home Section/katei-men or katei-ran”) to increase subscribership, editors of such sections did not seem to be proud of their jobs. It is very suggestive that such a 129 magazine genre for its lack of “serious” content. Chiba: Of course, practical knowledge about domestic chores or child-raising is important. But, unless women’s magazines include much more philosophical, political, or legal content, they cannot improve the knowledge or position of the women who read such magazines so much and so intensely (Chiba et al. 1928, 105) Tokuda: I agree that the level of women’s magazines is very low. Particularly it is low in terms of philosophy and so on. […] They should be simplified a bit more and should insert more cultural material. In these regards, the women’s magazine is not artistic. (Chiba et al. 1928, 104, 122) Chiba: Contemporary women’s magazines are teaching readers about technology and science, but not about politics, economics, or women’s social or philosophical issues. If they improve in these regards, these magazines might be elevated as a whole. (Chiba et al. 1928, 120) Also, some denounced women’s magazines for not being scientific or even as practical as they proclaimed themselves to be, referring to their drug advertisements and readers’ submissions about their personal experiences with folk medicines.56 contradictory phenomenon that media studies scholar Hayashi Kaori called “a paradox that the periphery of Japanese newspaper industry leads to popularity” (Hayashi 2007, 265) can be observed already in interwar Japan. Thus, the discursive position of “Women’s (Home) Sections” and that of women’s magazines share the same gap between their popularity and their lack of respect, being put at the bottom of the hierarchical order of sections/periodicals. 56 Chiba et al 1928, 105, 109; Yamakawa 1930, 112; Nii 1931, 275. 130 Given such a hierarchical view of the different magazine genres, it was natural for critics to imagine a gradual “evolution” from a “low” popular women’s magazine style to a “high” quality magazine style. In their view, the feminine/private magazine mode should ultimately become extinct, while the masculine/public style should maintain its hegemony over print culture. Thus, as things gradually develop, the time will eventually come when there is no need for the so-called women’s magazine. The evolution and improvement of women’s knowledge, taste, and belief can only be realized when both men and women read the same magazines. (Takashima 1922, 61) Satō: A woman who is looking for knowledge in a true sense can simply read magazines for men, without relying on those for women. (Chiba et al 1928, 100) Miwada: As long as knowledge is divided into two parts, one for men and the other, women, it means that women will occupy the low position [in society]. As time goes by and things evolve, the same knowledge will be shared by both sexes. (Chiba et al. 1928, 103) 57 Marxist thinkers also held an evolutionist view of print culture.58 While they disagreed as to the stage that Japanese women’s magazines currently occupied,59 they all agreed that these entertainment periodicals would develop from “feudalist” through “bourgeois commercialist” or 57 One should note that at other times Miwada also insists on the coexistence of women’s magazines and other magazine genres (Chiba et al. 192, 117). 58 Murofuse 1922; Yamakawa 1922; Yamakawa 1928; Yamakawa 1930; Hayasaka 1930, 115–119; Kishiyama 1930, 163–180. 59 Murofuse (1922) claimed that contemporary Japanese women’s magazines had reached the transition from a feudal ideology to a bourgeois one, whereas Kishiyama (1930), Hayasaka (1930) and Yamakawa (1922, 1928, 1930) saw them as the embodiment of bourgeois commercialism. 131 “sensationalist” to “proletarian.” 60 After all, in Marxist arguments too, mass-market women’s magazines were positioned at the lowest phase of the evolution of print culture. Considering such low evaluations of the content of women’s magazines, their editors’ repeated emphasis on the “sophistication” “cultivation” and “practicality (usefulness)” of their magazines might well have been attempts to avoid the denomination of their various components as “light” entertainment. Democratization of Print Culture and Gender It should be noted that while they were condemning women’s magazines for their “low” taste, many intellectuals revealed their fear of mass-market women’s magazines’ dominance over reading culture as well. For instance, soon after sarcastically encouraging high-quality magazines to introduce more intensive use of supplements to achieve better sales, Sugiyama Heisuke disclosed his real worry as follows: “Should the readers of so-called ‘quality magazines’ be seduced by supplements, the contemporary world would be too brutally frank.”61 The following conversation between two intellectuals exemplifies the bewilderment, resignation, and irritation among intellectuals concerning the drastic change that was occurring in reading culture. Miwada: In my opinion, in the near future, the time will inevitably come when the women’s magazine will need to change its overall attitude. I mean, if the women’s magazine becomes more sophisticated. Chiba: Then, as a consequence, magazines for men would sell much less, wouldn’t they? Miwada: Well, they may well not sell as much as now… (Chiba et al. 1928, 115) 60 Murofuse 1922, 160–161; Hayasaka 1930, 119. 61 Sugiyama 1935/1934, 19. 132 Their logical assumptions about the future of the publishing world inevitably lead to the conclusion that the women’s magazine will likely become the basic template for the magazine in general. Yet, neither of them seems to accept the idea that “magazines for men,” which are sometimes referred to as “compilations of lectures,”62 might be supplanted by women’s magazines, which might be considered compilations of miscellaneous gossip, even if they may include some more editorials on “serious” issues. Likewise, in the above round-table talk, when writer, editor, and critic Nakamura Murao took up the issue of the potential for the women’s magazine to supersede “economically unsustainable patients (keizaiteki niha sonzai dekinai byōnin),” namely, loss-generating “general” magazines such as Kaizō and Chūō kōron, and, instead, become a good venue for literary works including “high-quality” ones, other participants in the talk firmly rejected this idea, saying, “there is no sign [of such a possibility] at all,” for, they insisted, artists should publish their work not in “women’s magazines or entertainment magazines containing indecent components,” but that as pioneers of culture they should publish in “high-quality magazines,” even if they have to “resign themselves to poverty.”63 These dialogues suggest a correlation between the hierarchization of periodicals and literary works, that is, a differentiation between artistic “pure literature” and vulgar “popular literature” or “mass literature.”64 Here again, while reluctantly recognizing the power of mass-market women’s magazines, intellectuals still made desperate attempts to devalue them and maintain the status of general magazines as the standard of print culture. In order to maintain the hierarchy of print culture, intellectuals persistently classified 62 Satō Haruo’s phrasing (Chiba et al. 1928, 115). 63 Citations are the comments of Chiba Kameo, Satō Haruo, and Tokuda Shūsei in Chiba et al. 1928, 114, 115. 64 One should not forget that the genealogy and nuances of “popular literature” and “mass literature” are not identical. Suzuki Sadami 1994; Frederick 2006, Chapter 1. 133 categories of magazine genres by criticizing the “lowly” “vulgar” taste of the popular women’s magazine. As we have already seen in Chapter Two, the decade around the 1890s was a turning point when the division between the feminine and the masculine in magazine content intensified, followed by a similar gender separation in their formats. Since then, topics related to private life, such as love, domestic chores, child-raising, fashion, and family life, came to be considered as “lower” and “less serious” than the masculine themes related to philosophy, politics, economics, arts, and the like. The new editing and promoting strategies developed among “feminized” women’s magazines, such as the intensive use of a colloquial writing style, its concomitant development of orality-oriented article genres including interviews and round-table-talks, heavy use of visuals such as illustrations and photos, flashy advertising methods across media, and tie-ups with other industries. In the interwar period, however, the now mass-market women’s magazines dealing with such “lowly” private/feminine issues in “vulgar” editing styles started attracting even the intellectuals (and the males), who were supposed to be reading more “masculine,” “serious,” and, “high-quality” general magazines. The reaction of intellectuals against these popular women’s magazines reveals the subversive impact this periodical genre had on the publishing world. Maintaining a Hierarchy of Reading Culture By extension, critics also hierarchized modes of reading, which were also severely affected by the new formats and contents of print media, namely, the mass-market women’s magazine. In their view, reading should ideally be practiced with the goal of enlightening readers and improving society in terms of both knowledge and spirit. This is also related to their view of the role of magazines as an intellectual as well as a spiritual guide for readers.65 65 In addition to the critics mentioned in this chapter, additional commentaries defining the function of reading as a means of improving culture, education and taste can be found in Takashima 1922, 56, 58–59; Koizumi 1922, 156; Yamakawa 1922, 157; Chiba et al. 1928, 105–106, 120–122 (comments by 134 [Although they are commercial companies,] publishers cannot be discussed on the same level as speculators, for their products promote cultural improvement. (Takashima 1922, 56) Today’s women have two ways to feed their minds: one is through school education, and the other is by intellectual training through newspapers and magazines. (Yamakawa 1922, 157) Accordingly, critics disparaged the practice of reading in spare time for pleasure or relaxation and denounced the type of content that promoted such a reading style as low-taste and vulgar. A round-table talk entitled “Critical Discussion on the Women’s Magazine (Fujin zasshi no hihankai)” appearing in the June 1928 issue of Shinchō even included as an item on the agenda “whether it is alright for the women’s magazine to offer readers practical information as a sideline to providing leisure or entertainment, or whether it should rather have as its primary mission to educate and lead women.”66 Even those who did recognize the importance of the habit of reading for recreation did not entirely dismiss the enlightening function of reading. For instance, in the above-mentioned round-table talk in Shinchō. Miyake Yasuko, Miwada Motomichi, and Nakamura Murao all showed some understanding of the mass-market women’s magazine, pointing out that women or people living in the countryside who were busy and had little leisure might well need entertaining and easy-to-read Chiba, Miyake, Miwata, Tokuda, and Satō); Nakamura 1928, 9–11; Naimushō Keihokyoku 1929, x–27; Chiba 1930, 93; Nii 1930, 107; Yamakawa 1930, 112–113; and Tosaka 1937, 342–349. 66 Chiba et al. 1928, 120. 135 women’s magazines. 67 Nakamura even insisted, recognizing the entertaining function of the magazine in general, that “not only the women’s magazine, but most magazines have as their raisons d’être the purpose of offering a source of interest or entertainment to their readers.”68 Still, none of them could entirely discard their expectations that popular women’s magazines should provide guidance to their readers. Miwada: In any case, I would like the publishers—that is, the so-called capitalists—to reflect on their projects so as to improve women as much as possible. (Chiba et al. 1928, 109
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UBC Theses and Dissertations
Women's magazines and the democratization of print and reading culture in interwar Japan Maeshima, Shiho 2016
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