XXI. THE COMPLETION OF A NEW BOOK OF ANATOMY. SIGNIFICANCE OF THE WORD 'RANGAKU' (DUTCH LEARNING). THE FIRST TRANSLATION EVER MADE.

As we continued the meetings diligently, other like-minded came to join us although their aims were not always the same as ours.

When I first obtained that book of anatomy and ascertained its accuracy by actual observation, I was struck with admiration by the great difference between the knowledge of the West and that of the East.  And I was inspired to come to the determination that I must learn and clarify the new revelation for applying it to actual healing and also for making it the seed of further discoveries among the general physicians of Japan.  I was anxious to bring the work to completion as fast as possible.  I had no other thoughts in those days than to write down in the evening what we had deciphered in the day's meeting.  I considered the forms of expression in many ways, trying and retrying, and in the four years, I rewrote the manuscript eleven times over before feeling ready to hand it to the printers^bbb.  Thus the work on A New Book of Anatomy (Kaitai Shinsho) was completed.  The word "kaitai" (dissection) was coined to replace the old term "fuwake."

Dr. Ogata's note: Full three years from March 5, 1771 to August, 1774

Thus Edo became the cradle of the new learning and some one in our group began to call it Dutch Learning (Rangaku) which came into general use in the whole country.  Indeed, this was the beginning of the flourishing learning that we see today.

When we think of it now, it is really strange that nobody took the trouble to translate a Dutch book into Japanese in the two hundred years that have elapsed since Western surgery was introduced into Japan.  Moreover, it was a strange turn of events that the first translation was on the internal structure of the human body, the very basis of medical science although we did not intentionally choose the book.  We might call it a providential occurrence.

XXII. LOOKING BACK ON THE COURSE WHICH BROUGHT A NEW BOOK OF ANATOMY INTO BEING. THE LIKE-MINDED COMPANIONS.

Let me think back now on the times when A New Book of Anatomy was still in the making.  After two or three years' hard work and as we gradually learned how to deal with it, we began to find pleasure in it like chewing on a sugar cane and tasting its mellowness.  We also came to realize what wrong ideas we had been fettered to for many long years in the past.  Having those misconceptions shaken off one by one, we were impatiently looking forward to another appointed day for study just as women and children would be anxiously awaiting the dawn of a festival day.

As Edo was naturally a lively, light-hearted town, the people there were easily drawn into another's path.  Having heard of our enterprise, a number of people came to join us.  Some of them successfully attained their ends while others gave up soon.  Of those who did and who did not accomplish much, too many have already passed on beyond this world.

Such persons as Shuntai Mine and Shōen Karasuyama were faithful workers, but they are no longer in this world.  Jun-an, our original colleague, died before he reached fifty, though it happened after the publication of A New Book of Anatomy.

Among the people who were with us in those days, Shōtetsu Kiriyama, presently the official doctor of the Hirosaki clan, is about the last living one as he is much younger than I.

Aside from those who had strong confidence in the steadiness of our enterprise, we had all sorts of fellow-workers: some were entirely ignorant of the project and dubious of our ultimate success, while some others used up their energy finding the task too tedious and complex, and still others had to give up the work as they were hard up financially and became tired of it as its immediate economic prospect was poor.  Also, many others, enthusiastic as they were, died on account of ill health before the completion of the work.

Honshū Katsuragawa, one of those who were with us from the beginning, was a brilliant man towering high above others.  Very quick to catch on to Dutch words and sentences, he was looked upon by us as a promising person although he was quite young as yet. His family was not only one of the official surgeons professing Dutch School for several generations but his father Hosan had learned the twenty-five letters of the ABC and some Dutch words, though not many, from Dr. Aoki.  Thus Honshū apparently had a grounding in Dutch learning.  Such being the case, he attended our meetings diligently every time and never showed a sign of boredom.

Dr. Ogata's note: Hoshū Katsuragawa was born in 1751 and died in 1809.  He was appointed an official doctor of the Shogunate when he was only 19 years old.  He was just about 20 when he joined our Dutch learning group

XXIII. COMPANIONS SUCH AS RYŌTAKU MAENO, JUN-AN NAKAGAWA AND HONSHŪ KATSURAGAWA. MY OWN INTENTION.

Our companions were equally eager in their discussions when they came together, but they varies in their objectives, which was indeed natural for men with different dispositions.

Take, for example, Ryōtaku, our leader.  He was a man of distinct talent.  He took the study of the Dutch language as his life's work.  He wanted to have a perfect mastery of it so as to become capable of reading any Dutch book and be informed on everything of the West.  In other words, his ambition was to have a Woordenboek (dictionary) knowledge like that in the Kōki-dictionary.  Embracing such a great desire, he rather avoided association with shallow minds of the society.

It was really a "providential help" in the cause of Dutch learning that this person, Ryōtaku, claiming to be sickly by nature, about this time confined himself to his home without much associating with others, his sole pleasure in life being Dutch translation.

Dr. Ogata's note: The Kōki-dictionary was not compiled at the command of Emperor Kōki (1655-1722) of Ching China.  Consisting of 42 volumes, it was published in 1716 (the 55th year of Kōki Era).  It contains more than 40,500 words

But his liege lord, Masaka Okudaira, was very sympathetic with Ryōtaku's intentions.  He simply said: "He is an eccentric!" and never censured him.  There was someone who brought in the report that Ryōtaku was negligent of his official duties, but the lord responded: "To carry on the daily cures is service; it is service also to try and bring about something which will benefit people at large and in the future.  Ryōtaku seems to have something in his mind.  Let him be."  Thus he was left undisturbed.

About this time, Feudal Lord Masaka had an occasion of obtaining some books on internal medicine such as Buyzen's Practijk der Medicine.  He put his seal on them and gave them to Ryōtaku.  Earlier Ryōtaku had a pseudonim Rakuzan (Pleasant Mountain), but in his older age, he called himself Ranka.  It is said this name was given him by his Liege Lord as he used to call him in humor "Dutch Bogy (Oranda no Bakemono)."  Basking in such a great favor of his lordship, he was able to devote himself to Dutch learning as he pleased.

Transcribing Oranda no Bakemono in classical Chinese, Ranka was derived

As I mentioned before, many people joined us from caprice and not a small number of them dropped off, as they found the study too long and tedious, while others including our teacher remained adamant in their initial intention and succeeded in bringing it to such a grand consummation.  This I believe was the result of human will happily coordinated with the time which was ready to accept such an affair of intrinsic value as Dutch learning.

Here is another enthusiast for Dutch learning, Jun-an Nakagawa.  He was a naturalist eagerly looking for a chance of Dutch learning so as to acquire the knowledge in natural history as developed abroad.  Besides, he was very much interested in curious utensils and elaborate apparatus.  By his own ingenuity, he made not a few of such things himself.  He died of cancer of the stomach in the beginning of the Temmei Era without finishing the translation of the Dutch Materia Medica in which he had been engaged for some time.

Dr. Ogata's note: 1739-1786

Hoshū Katsuragawa.  He seems to have had no definite objective in his study.  Being, however, brought up in the family conditions as were described before, he must have felt a natural interest in Dutch learning.  Young, vigorous and never tiring, he attended our meetings regularly.

My case was very different from these people.  When I attended the dissection for the first time and checked it with the Dutch chart, I was surprised to observe that the internal structure of man was entirely different from what we had been taught by the traditional Chinese books.

My aim was to clarify this point and contribute something to the practice of healing and also to supply material for further discoveries among the medical men of the country.  In other words, my sole purpose was in translating this particular book and in bringing it out as quickly as possible.  That was the end of my purpose.  I had no other ambitions such as mastering the language and taking up other projects.  It is beautiful to look at intertwined threads of five different colors, but I started in the determination that I should set my eyes on just one particular color, say, red or yellow, and discard the test completely.

My thoughts went back to the time of Emperor Ōjin when Wani of Kudara, Korea, introduced Chinese characters and brought over books to Japan for the first time, and to the fact that ever after Japanese Emperors sent scholars to China for study, and many centuries passed before the Japanese succeeded in the firm establishment of Chinese learning worthy of its original merit.  How could we expect the work which was just begun to effect its immediate accomplishment?  All I wanted was to show somehow to the people that the real structure of the human body was different from the one described in Chinese books.  I had no other intention in my enterprise.  So, as I stated before, I went on accumulating the small results of daily toil at each meeting bit by bit.

My colleagues often laughed at me for my impetuousness.  I responded: "A man is not to wither away like grass and trees.  You are young and strong, but I am old and sickly.  I may not be able to live long enough to see our task completed.  You can never tell the life or death of a man beforehand.  'One who takes the initiative commands others, while one who starts late gets controlled.'  That's why I make haste.  I may have the honor of congratulating you on your glory from 'under the sod (the grave).'"

Katsuragawa and others laughed loudly, and later on nicknamed me "Under the Sod."  Time flew like "a white horse cantering past a slit in a wall"; three or four years passed all too quickly.

As our work became known, people began calling on us, and our knowledge of the viscera, blood vessels, nerves, bones and joints according to Western science had grown good enough to meet their curiosities.

Dr. Ogata's note: The Katsuragawa family were official doctors of the Shogunate for several generations.  So, Genpaku always referred to the members of this family with an honorific which is not brought out in English

XXIV. SEIAN TAKEBE AND I. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS ON DUTCH LEARNING. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS ON DUTCH MEDICINE.

Here is a story which happened before the publication of A New Book of Anatomy.  Seian (or Yoshimasa) Takebe, an official doctor at Ichinoseki in the far off Ōshū, heard of me, and sent me a letter with the questions that had occurred to him in his daily experience.  They included many pertinent points to impress me.

Up to that time, we had not been acquainted with each other, but I found him exactly of the same mind as I - two souls joined together though physically thousands of miles apart.  He wrote like this: "So far, Dutch surgery had nothing better than the meager hand-down instruction written in kana for the basis of practice.  This is very, very regrettable.  Suppose a man of learning should appear and make a formal translation of a Dutch book just as the Chinese in olden days had done with the Buddhist Sutras, it would establish Dutch medicine in Japan."  This was what he had had in mind for more than twenty years, he wrote.

Such an insight can not be lauded too much.  I was really happy that I had come across this high-minded person.  I wrote back to him: "This should certainly be called a fortuitous meeting that will happen only once in a life time."  Ever since, we constantly communicated, and many things developed out of it.  The letters exchanged between us were copied and published by my pupils in a bound folio entitled Dialogues on Dutch Medicine (Oranda Iji Mondō) in 1795 (the 7th year of Kansei Era).

XXV. TRANSLATION, MY POSITION TOWARD IT.

Not being precise in my thought or deep in learning, I feared, even when the translation was being done, I would not be capable of writing down the Dutch thoughts in legible Japanese so that they would be useful to the public.  Yet, I did not want to leave the matter to others as they might fail to communicate the thoughts I was driving at.  So, in spite of my poor literary talent, I took up the task myself.  Sometimes I came across a difficult passage which, I knew, had a delicate meaning and which must not be managed lightly.  In such a case I let it go without committing myself to a dubious translation, only putting down the parts which I clearly comprehended.

For example, there are two ways to go to Kyōto from Edo: the Tōkai Road and the Tōsan Road.  The important thing is to know simply that we can reach Kyōto by going west along either of the two ways.  Similarly in our way of translation, the important thing, I thought, was to transmit the broad principles of anatomy.  With this idea I started out on the work of translation without being too much concerned with the details that were beyond our understanding.  Of course, I knew nothing of the rules by which Buddhist monks had translated the Sanskrit sutras, and the Dutch translation, being entirely new without precedent, it often defied our comprehension on some fine points.  The only thought in me then was that a doctor cannot claim his title without first knowing the structures and functions of the internal organs.  I would help them obtain the knowledge so as to be of use in actual healing.  Because of this thought, I hastened with the translation in order to bring only its outline to the attention of the public so that they would compare it with what they had learned in old medicine and be enlightened on the truth.

Therefore, I wanted to make the translation entirely with the old Chinese terminology, but I soon found that there was quite a difference in the concept of naming between the Dutch and the Chinese, and I was often puzzled for the lack of a definite rule.

After considering from all angles, I decided that as this was after all an attempt to make myself "the ancestor of a new learning" at any rate, I would make my writing plain and easy.  With this as the basic rule, I sometimes tried to find an appropriate Japanese word for translation, sometimes created a new word, sometimes transcribed the Dutch sound in Japanese, trying this and trying that, I groped for various means day and night.  Putting my heart and soul in the task, I rewrote the manuscript eleven times as I have stated before, and it took me almost four years before it was completed.

Needless to say, there was no knowing the details of Dutch customs and habits in those days.  If examined by the people of today who are now far more enlightened, A New Book of Anatomy may appear to be full of mistakes.  But one can not start anything if he is concerned too much about the criticism of later days.  What we published, therefore, was nothing more than a broad outline of what we had understood of the original substance, but that was the best we could do at the time.

In rendering the Sanskrit into Chinese, the Chinese scholars started with the Sutra of Forty-two Chapters, but going through a tedious process of gradual development, it grew into the stupendous Complete Sutras of Buddhism (Issaikyō) as we have it now.  A step-by-step advance like this was what I had been praying for from the beginning.

Without the existence of such a person as Ryōtaku, the path for the Dutch language in Japan could not have been explored.  Also, this study would not have progressed as rapidly without the cooperation of a gross mind such as mine.  These all may be called a heavenly providence.