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Lafcadio Hearn - Kokoro
laugh; and some would make you think. The story of the first Kimiko belongs to the last class. It is not
one of the most extraordinary; but it is one of the least difficult for Western people to understand.
II
There is no more Ichi-dai-me Kimiko: she is only a remembrance. Kimika was quite young when she
called that Kimiko her professional sister.
"An exceedingly wonderful girl," is what Kimika says of Kimiko. To win any renown in her profession,
a geisha must be pretty or very clever; and the famous ones are usually both, - having been selected at a
very early age by their trainers according to the promise of such qualities Even the commoner class of
singing-girls must have some charm in their best years, - if only that beaute du diable which
inspired the Japanese proverb that even a devil is pretty at eighteen(1). But Kimiko was much more than
pretty. She was according to the Japanese ideal of beauty; and that standard is not reached by one woman
in a hundred thousand. Also she was more than clever: she was accomplished. She composed very dainty
poems, - could arrange flowers exquisitely, perform tea-ceremonies faultlessly, embroider, make silk
mosaic: in short, she was genteel. And her first public appearance made a flutter in the fast world of
Kyoto. it was evident that she could make almost any conquest she pleased, and that fortune was before
her.
But it soon became evident, also, that she had been perfectly trained for her profession. She had been
taught how to conduct herself under almost any possible circumstances; for what she could not have
known Kimika knew everything about: the power of beauty, and the weakness of passion; the craft of
promises and the worth of indifference; and all the folly and evil in the hearts of men. So Kimiko made
few mistakes and shed few tears. By and by she proved to be, as Kimika wished, - slightly dangerous. So
a lamp is to night-fliers: otherwise some of them would put it out. The duty of the lamp is to make
pleasant things visible: it has no malice. Kimiko had no malice, and was not too dangerous. Anxious
parents discovered that she did not want to enter into respectable families, nor even to lend herself to any
serious romances. But she was not particularly merciful to that class of youths who sign documents with
their own blood, and ask a dancing-girl to cut off the extreme end of the little finger of her left hand as a
pledge of eternal affection. She was mischievous enough with them to cure them of their folly. Some rich
folks who offered her lands and houses on condition of owning her, body and soul, found her less
merciful. One proved generous enough to purchase her freedom unconditionally, at a price which made
Kimika a rich woman; and Kimiko was grateful, - but she remained a geisha. She managed her rebuffs
with too much tact to excite hate, and knew how to heal despairs in most cases. There were exceptions,
of course. One old man, who thought life not worth living unless he could get Kimiko all to himself,
invited her to a banquet one evening, and asked her to drink wine with him. But Kimika, accustomed to
read faces, deftly substituted tea (which has precisely the same color) for Kimiko's wine, and so
instinctively saved the girl's precious life, - for only ten minutes later the soul of the silly host was on its
way to the Meido alone, and doubtless greatly disappointed.... After that night Kimika watched over
Kimiko as a wild cat guards her kitten.
The kitten became a fashionable mania, a craze,-a delirium, - one of the great sights and sensations of the
period. There is a foreign prince who remembers her name: he sent her a gift of diamonds which she
never wore. Other presents in multitude she received from all who could afford the luxury of pleasing
her; and to be in her good graces, even for a day, was the ambition of the "gilded youth." Nevertheless
she allowed no one to imagine himself a special favorite, and refused to make any contracts for perpetual
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