Monday, November 30, 1998

The Fall of Billy Budd, Sailor

Many writers, both of fiction and of philosophy, have struggled with the relationship between human society and the fundamentals of human nature. Despite the righteous intentions underlying the laws of a community, they are occasionally in opposition with an individual’s beliefs of justice. Melville examines such a conflict between man and society in Billy Budd, Sailor, which situates that very dichotomy as the central theme of the novel. The title character is a wholly virtuous man whose execution for treason provides the reader with the most immediate sense of the tragic in the novel. Such a simplistic reading would limit the text, however. It is through Billy’s relationship with the other members of the crew, and notably with Captain Vere, that a better insight into Melville’s theme can be ascertained. There is no doubt that Billy is in fact guilty of killing Claggart; what is at question is whether Vere was morally right in following the law which executed him. The entire notion of human justice is questioned as Melville implicitly condemns the society which created it. The author frequently suggests that Billy Budd is himself a character too pure and innocent to exist in the society of the novel. Simultaneously however, Vere is forced to uphold the authority of the law despite his acknowledgment of Billy’s ultimate innocence. It is questionable, however, whether his narrative provides any solutions to the problems that it considers. Billy Budd, Sailor does not provide any conclusion for the moral difficulties it presents, but instead is a representation of the struggle faced by all intelligent people to determine their own morality.

From the outset of Billy Budd, Sailor, Melville presents the protagonist as the zenith of human morality. Indeed, the text seems an extended paean to the glorious constitution of his Handsome Sailor. An introduction to his character is given by the captain of the Rights-of-Man who calls Billy “my best man ... the jewel of ‘em”(p. 295) and “my peacemaker” (p. 296). Billy soon demonstrates that he is worthy of such praise by quickly ingratiating himself with the crew and despite his inexperience as a sailor he readily becomes acclimatised with the machinations of the Bellipotent. His physical beauty is likened alternately with Hercules and Apollo, and the narrator emphasizes that Billy’s “person and demeanor” had a “particularly favourable effect ... upon the more intelligent gentlemen of the quarterdeck” (p. 299). Yet it becomes apparent that Billy’s very nature separates him from the rest of the crew, and indeed from society as a whole. While he had gained the admiration of the crew, Billy is nevertheless mocked by them for his punctuality and meticulousness. More importantly however, his virtuous nature lends comparisons with the higher, divine sphere. Billy’s very job as foretopman gives him an ‘angelic’ view over his crewmates. After his death the crew, by taking pieces of the spar from which he was hung, treats him almost as a guardian angel or even as a Christ figure. Billy’s correspondence with Christ is overshadowed, however, by the narrator’s frequent equation of the protagonist with Adam before the fall. He is regarded by the narrator as an “upright barbarian” who lacks the faults imparted by civilization which as a whole has “a questionable smack as of a compounded wine” (pp. 301-2).

It is this comparison which suggests the protagonist’s ultimate innocence. Billy has no sense of the evil in the world. That he serves aboard a ship of war remains one of the central ironies of the text. It is the Dankster who first notices this aspect of Billy’s nature, seeing “something which in contrast with the warship’s environment looked oddly incongruous”
(p. 319). “[He] had none of that intuitive knowledge of the bad which in natures not good or incompletely so foreruns experience” (p. 336), and thus did not recognize the threat posed by Claggart. During the investigation into his accusation, Billy remains ignorant of Claggart’s purpose, believing that he was perhaps receiving a promotion and therefore unaware of the “forewarning intimations of subtler danger” (p. 348). Indeed, Claggart is the “urbane Serpent” (p. 301) who, in attempting to introduce the knowledge of evil to Billy, precipitates the protagonist’s downfall. Yet, unlike Adam, Billy’s Fall is not a fall from the Divine Grace of Eden, but instead from the false Eden of earthly society. He was not directly stung by the knowledge of evil imparted by the Satanic Claggart; alternately by violently lashing out and killing Claggart, Billy was demonstrating his rejection of the Forbidden Fruit. Billy did have to suffer the consequences for his impropriety within earthly society however, and his earthly Fall is a satirical reflection of Adam’s fall. “The immediate consequence of the Fall was death” (Nelson’s Illustrated Bible Dictionary, p. 374), which was certainly evidenced by Billy’s execution. However, the Handsome Sailor was not afraid in facing his trial or execution; he did not fear the law as Adam feared the Lord. Billy does not fear earthy justice because he knows he remains guiltless in the eyes of a higher authority: “I have eaten the King’s bread and I am true to the King” (p. 357). Indeed, as he gave Billy his last rights the ship’s chaplain was well aware of the protagonist’s ultimate innocence, and “felt that innocence was even a better thing than religion wherewith to go to Judgement” (p. 373). Certainly, Billy is accepted into the Divine Grace upon his death, as during his execution the symbols of his ascension are many.

It was into a strictly regimented and ordered society that the Handsome and angelic Sailor finds himself situated. By killing Claggart, Billy is indeed guilty of transgressing martial law, yet it is important to note that it was an imperfect and Fallen society which created the law. Therefore, while it was just that Captain Vere sentenced Billy to be hanged, the sailor’s death is viewed as unnatural by the crew, and indeed by Vere himself. The unintelligible murmurs of the crew upon hearing of Billy’s impeding execution and during his funeral attest to their sense that the act was a trespass against Divine Law. Vere must however conform to the martial law of which he is a part and the principle agent. He believes that the laws of a civilization are of paramount consequence in counteracting the chaos inherent in human nature: “With mankind ... forms, measured forms are everything; and this is the import couched in the story of Orpheus with his lyre spellbinding the wild denizens of the wood” (p. 380). It is therefore within this context that the chapters concerning the Nore Mutiny demonstrate their importance. Knowing the consequences of the Mutiny, Vere must remain true to the principles of the Mutiny Act, and thus hastily sentence and execute Billy. As Billy is indeed guilty of committing a crime against human laws, the tragedy of the novel revolves not around his fall of this noble sailor to being executed as a murderer. Alternately, the focus of the text surrounds Billy’s punishment as a symbol of the corrupt nature of a fallen society. The court and Captain Vere must treat him in an inhuman manner as it cannot operate otherwise. Vere himself recognizes this fault in the court, and that “a court less arbitrary and more merciful than a martial one” would likely acquit Billy of his charge for the extenuating circumstance that he “proposed neither mutiny nor homicide” (p. 363). The Captain cannot ignore his duties, however, despite his own beliefs.

In Billy Budd, Sailor Melville examines the difficulties faced by a character who cannot properly function or even exist within the confines of his society. Billy is characterised as following a higher and more pure law than that observed on the Bellipotent, yet Captain Vere cannot enforce any other system of justice than that which he does. The society of Vere and the law he represents is a Fallen one, and therefore it must ostracize an angelic figure such as Billy Budd. The tragic element lies not in Billy’s death, but in the rejection of the more pure and divine form that he represents. Melville stresses that men of intelligence will acknowledge such ideal forms when they present themselves, and certainly the intelligent characters of Billy Budd — Vere, Claggart, even the Dankster — demonstrate their awareness of Billy’s virtuous nature. Vere subsequently exhibits a profound sense of loss for Billy’s death. However, it remains dispiriting yet perhaps a truism that men created by a society derived from the Fall cannot distance themselves enough from its restrains to be free from envy and allow the existence of what they cannot be, that is, an ideal form.

Bibliography


Melville, Herman. Billy Budd and Other Stories. New York: Penguin Books, 1986.

Nelson’s Illustrated Bible Dictionary. Gen. Ed. Herbert Lockyer, Sr. New York: Thomas
Nelson Publishers, 1986.

Wednesday, November 18, 1998

A Critique of Antonia McLean's Humanism & The Rise of Science in Tudor England

There can be no denying that in many respects Tudor England was a time of great turmoil, as the country was experiencing considerable change, equally in politics, theology, and intellectual life. The shifting ideologies and methodologies in the latter are the subjects of Antonia McLean’s study, Humanism & the rise of Science in Tudor England. From the beginning of the text McLean emphasizes the importance of the printing press in spreading the ‘new learning’ of humanism and the sciences. Her argument is lucid and convincing, and is an opinion which is generally in congruence with other scholars. By the end of the text, however, a correlative yet apparently contradictory thesis is forwarded. Despite the accessibility of the new scholarship due to printing, during the initial period of the English Renaissance many of the older Medieval traditions and doctrines remained in existence, and even benefited from a wider circulation. The author focuses on the dissemination of the innovative views of humanism solely in education, the mathematical sciences, and medicine, and while this allows an extensive study of her selected fields, it is in this respect that her study is somewhat limited. Irrespective of such restraints however, McLean does provide an interesting and comprehensive analysis of the scientific advances within the aforementioned disciplines and their humanistic derivation. Consequently, McLean’s book remains an important and engrossing study of the origins of the scientific revolution.

Interestingly, McLean begins her study by quoting Bacon’s Aphorism 129 from his Novum Organum. At this early point her thesis becomes apparent, and one might in fact criticize her transparency. This quotation is however an interesting device in that it imparts a sense of inevitability to McLean’s ideology and a validity to her thesis. The remainder of the book does in fact substantiate Bacon’s claims on the importance of printing to “change the whole face and state of things throughout the world”. Scholars agree with McLean on the reasons for the rapid success of the printing presses in England, although it’s development lagged behind that in the continent. There was an increase in the demand for books due to an increasingly literate population, caused by both the increasing accessibility of education, as well as a change in the attitude toward literacy by the upper classes. The demand for books caused the printing industry to grow at an exponential rate, which in turn fuelled the increase in literacy, inducing what one scholar has dubbed a “virtuous circle”. McLean argues that this increase in book production directly led to the spread of humanism among the educated. Unlike a few scholars, she provides some important information concerning early humanism in England. McLean is in agreement with other scholars in her beliefs that humanism initially came to England when several scholars travelled to Italy to learn Greek. This early humanist foundation was important, as the work of such men as Grocyn, Linacre, and Colet allowed the Italian Renaissance to be introduced into England. The main influence of humanism on the scientists of the Tudor period was the introduction of Greek sources, especially the scientific and philosophical texts of the Hellenistic Age. Although the Aristotelian-Ptolemaic concept of the universe was followed and some Latin translations of Greek texts existed, it was not until the introduction of Greek texts England from the Arab world that the many scientific advances of the sixteenth century were realized. As these texts were printed, many scholars had access to them. McLean’s elucidation of the number of Greek texts contained in several personal and private libraries is adequate proof of their influence, yet the lists disrupt the flow of the text and should have been placed in the footnotes.

McLean provides a detailed analysis concerning the importance of Greek texts as catalysts for English scientific innovation during the Tudor period. Once again she is noteworthy for providing a background for the later advances, in particular pre-Tudor mathematics and medicine. Particularly consequential was the adoption of Platonism and the influence of Bacon’s Merton school of thought. Neither of these systems of scientific and mathematical inquiry were hampered by the Aristotelian-Ptolemaic canon of the middle-ages. The author proceeds to demonstrate the many achievements of the period and traces their development from humanism: Recorde’s Platonic dialogues on mathematics, written in English; Dee’s impact on scientific inquiry and observation; and Dr. Caius’s foundation of the College of Physicians. Similarly, she provides an adequate description of the influence of the mathematical advances on navigation and cartography. Beginning with a lengthy description of the pre-Tudor navigational sciences, McLean follows with an in-depth analysis of the relationship between seamanship and the practical sciences. In describing the optical experiments of Dee and Digges and the mathematical experiments of Harriot, McLean provides an interesting supposition on the relatively advanced directions that science could possibly have taken. During such asides, McLean’s delightful enthusiasm for her subjects is quite engaging. As they were printed, the books written by these authors were widely read and themselves instigated a great deal of scholarship. Although it is never explicitly stated, McLean implies that mass produced and error-free texts allowed for a consensus among scientists, which eventually led to the establishment of scholastic ‘guilds’ such as the College of Physicians. By providing so many elaborate illustrations of the consequences of humanistic thought in science, McLean strengthens her argument. The evidence is exhaustive, at least concerning the advances in mathematics and medicine, and it allows the reader to easily comprehend and agree with the author. Nearly all of the other scholars here cited agree with McLean (and additionally with Bacon) that printing caused a monumental shift in the ideologies of the Tudor age. Herein lies the importance of the author’s work. Her work is not wholly original; alternately, she collates studies from numerous fields, science and medicine, humanism, and print history. McLean does however create an important study that is frequently given only a superficial treatment, and is in fact sometimes completely overlooked, by scholars. Humanism & the rise of Science in Tudor England remains an intriguing study due to the extent to which McLean substantiates her thesis by relating it to the most notable aspects of the English Renaissance.

The Platonic system that derived from humanism and was espoused by many of the period’s foremost scientists was not without its faults however, as it “contained elements which proved unscientific”. It is at this point in her study that McLean asserts the second and somewhat lesser division of her thesis. Many aspects of the earlier late-medieval traditions remained extant during the early- to mid-sixteenth century despite the new and frequently opposing scholarship. During the early years of book production, printing allowed for a wide distribution of the early medieval texts, and consequently despite the new learning they became entrenched in the beliefs of many scholars. McLean provides as an example the influence of Hermeticism on many scholars of the Tudor period, most notably John Dee. She, along with other authors, argues that such ‘prejudices’ had the initial effect of arresting scientific advance, notably the acceptance of the Copernican universe. A similar trend occurred in the medical community, where the works of Galen were paramount for the entire sixteenth century despite the “rapid advance in anatomical knowledge and surgical techniques”. While these predispositions to orthodoxy gradually disappeared, they hindered a great deal of scientific progress for most of the sixteenth century. It is interesting that McLean provides this counter-argument to the impact of humanism on Tudor scientific achievements, as it in fact lends a credibility to her entire thesis. There are few instances of an instantaneous change in intellectual thought, and indeed one must question any author who proposes such an argument. Intellectual revolutions are indeed much more gradual than suggested by a cursory study; throughout the text McLean demonstrates her acknowledgment of this axiom. Indeed, in the concluding chapter of the book, McLean briefly articulates such an understanding: “The knowledge of new discoveries spread more widely and with greater rapidity through the printed book, but this is not the same thing as saying that they were accepted”.

If one is to find a failing in McLean’s study, it is in her somewhat limited analysis of the range of Tudor achievements. While focussing on mathematical and medical advancements allows her to more comprehensively examine the influence of humanism on the science, it does not convey the breadth of scientific study undertaken during the period. Unlike other authors, she does not refer to advances in architecture, engineering, or music (considered a part of mathematics), or even the ‘achievements’ in alchemy or astrology which had diverted John Dee as well as several other scientists, during the Tudor period. The analysis of John Dee’s mystical investigations does redeem the omission of the latter somewhat, and proves quite interesting of its own merits, especially when it outlines Dee’s connections between ‘natural magic’ and mathematics. Perhaps a more critical miscue was her avoidance of Aristotelian physics, which had a remarkable inter-disciplinary influence. Indeed, it has been argued that the rejection of Aristotelian physics led to the acceptance of the more advanced theories of the Tudor age. The sole reference to an important break with the Aristotelian-Ptolemaic universe made by McLean is to the work of Thomas Digges, which does not adequately examine the shift to a Copernican universe. A second and infinitely lesser fault of Humanism & the rise of Science is McLean’s aforementioned insistence on listing the contents of library lists in great detail and within the body of the text. This relatively minor structural infraction unnecessarily impedes the flow of the narrative and quickly induces a sense of tedium in the reader. Thankfully, McLean engrosses the reader by providing an interesting selection of extracts from sixteenth century sources that support her thesis. These excerpts are well chosen and more importantly well edited, as she does not include any superfluous data nor does she utilize more of a specific quotation than is necessary. Such editorial restraint, along with the obvious enthusiasm of the author towards her subject, imparts a readability to the text which is sometimes lost in scholarly works.

The importance of McLean’s investigation into the rise of science in the Tudor period which had its origins in humanism is not due to its originality. Yet, she combines the work of other scholars and subsequently builds upon their foundations to create an interesting, important, and readable text. McLean craftily argues that the invention of printing led to the rapid spread of humanistic ideas which in turn greatly influenced the scientific progress of the age. Simultaneously however, in examining the conservative publishing trends of the early sixteenth century, she elucidates the degree to which printing supported and entrenched the earlier ideologies, which is an important correlation to her main thesis. Despite the initial tendencies toward orthodoxy however, printing ultimately allowed for many innovations in the sciences. As McLean clearly elucidates, printing was to have a profound impact on the course of western civilization.

Bibliography


McLean, Antonia. Humanism & the rise of Science in Tudor England. New York: Neale Watson
Academic Publications, 1972.


Secondary

Burke, James. The Day the Universe Changed. Toronto: Little, Browne and Company, 1985.

Boas, Marie. The Scientific Renaissance 1450-1630. New York: Harper & Row, 1962

Dahl, Svend. History of the Book. Metuchen, USA: The Scarecrow Press, 1968.

Dowling, Maria. Humanism in the Age of Henry VIII. London: Croom Helm, 1986.

Elton, G.R. England under the Tudors. London: Methuen & Co., 1974.

Hay, Denys. “Fiat Lux”, Printing and the Mind of Man. Ed. John Carter & Percy H. Muir.
London: Cassell and Company, 1967. Pp. xv-xxxiv.

Nutton, Vivian.“Greek science in the sixteenth-century Renaissance”, Renaissance & Revolution. Ed. J.V. Field and Frank A.J.L. James. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993. Pp. 15-28.

Ridley, Jasper. The Tudor Age. London: Constable, 1988.

Voigts, Linda Ehrsam. “Scientific and medical books”, Book Production and Publishing in
Britain 1375-1475. Ed. Jeremy Griffiths and Derek Pearsall. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1989. Pp. 345-402.

Westfall, Richard S. “Science and technology during the Scientific Revolution: and empirical
approach”, Renaissance & Revolution. Ed. J.V. Field and Frank A.J.L. James.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993. Pp. 63-72.

Woodward, G.W.O. Reformation and Resurgence: England in the Sixteenth Century. New York:
Humanities Press, 1963.

Thursday, November 05, 1998

A Critical Interpretation of Peasants, Rebels, & Outcastes

Observed from an objective distance, the rise of Japanese economic power in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries is a testament to the logistical genius of its governmental officials. The program of modernization and industrialization, adopted during the Meiji Restoration and continuing for the following half-century, allowed Japan to evolve from the feudal, agrarian country of the Tokugawa period to one of the economic leaders of the modern world. Further study of the social costs of such rapid development undermines the value of such a successful maturation, however. Mikiso Hane, in Peasants, Rebels, & Outcastes: The Underside of Modern Japan (Pantheon Books, New York: 1982; 297 pp.), argues that the costs and consequences of modernization were most deeply and painfully endured by the lower classes of Japan. While the wealthy industrialists and city merchants enjoyed the benefits of a modern economy, the peasants, who accounted for the majority of the Japanese population, felt increasingly alienated, both economically and culturally, from the urban elites. This gulf between the rich and the poor only worsened as Japan continued to modernize. The sole outlet that the peasants believed available to them was the military, yet Hane argues that the army too was merely a tool for exploiting the lower classes. Hane’s arguments are thorough and convincing, although obviously written from a leftist point of view. His liberal convictions lend credence and potency to his dissertation, however, and despite a few minor flaws, such ideological determination remains the strongest aspect of the book.

One of the principal outcomes of the Meiji Restoration was the commencement of modernization in Japan. Government officials immediately embarked on a program to industrialize Japan and bring it to a more equal socio-economic and technological level with the western countries. Such a program is of obvious importance to the prosperity of a nation in the modern world, yet Hane explores the social consequences of such rapid development. His most noticeable fault is that sub-textually he seems to condemn industrialization completely: the consequences outweigh its benefits. He does not make any reference to the similar periods of industrial growth in the western countries, when exploitation of the lower classes was just as marked as it was in Japan. Neither does he consider that such a painful stage of growth is perhaps necessary for the development of a civilization. Thus, his book has a mild romantic undertone, a form of nostalgia for traditional rural values. It can be argued that the peasants of the pre-industrial era did not in fact live more pleasant lives than those of the early industrial era. They were equally exploited by the Tokugawa ruling class, and had to lead a dreary, plodding existence consisting of heavy work under a constant threat of death from starvation and disease. Their lives were no more diverse, interesting, or certain than their modern-era counterparts. Conversely, efforts were made during the Meiji Restoration to ameliorate their social standing. While such measures as the abolition of the samurai and the redistribution of land had few immediately positive effects, they would lead to the more egalitarian social system in place by the middle of the twentieth century.

Hane’s arguments should not be rejected for the sole reason of such “rural-nostalgia” however, as they do remain powerful. The supplementary material that he provides — excerpts from diaries, interviews, and fictional works — allows the reader to more completely grasp the suffering and hardships endured by the lower classes. Indeed, many of the extracts quite explicitly demonstrate the inhumanity shown by the Japanese government and industrialists for their own countrymen; in several instances some Japanese, most notably the burakumin, were treated as badly or worse than non-citizens and prisoners of war. Hane treats such instances with an understandable bias, and perhaps even with a subtext of disgust. While the diary entries convey a powerful simplicity and immediacy of emotion, it is the more lengthy fictional extracts which truly provide a vivid description of life during such a difficult period. In this manner Hane demonstrates an awareness that the true reflection of a turbulent society is its artistic output. He therefore provides the reader with a direct association with the plight of the lower classes, and consequently one feels sympathy towards them. The extracts also provide a more human and emotional quality to an otherwise conventional sociological study.

It becomes explicitly clear that few peasants immediately benefited from modernization. Farm life did not improve drastically during the industrial era, and in many instances prosperity decreased for farmers as they had to face the increasing tax demands forced on them by the government to pay for the program of modernization. In times of severe economic stress, mostly caused by low crop yields, although a bumper crop could be equally detrimental, peasant families had to resort to extreme measures to remain alive. Many lost their property to more wealthy landlords, and thus entered into the debt-cycle of tenant farming. While the tenant farmers themselves were relieved from paying taxes, the rent charged by landlords frequently exceeded the tax levels that had been charged by the government. Hane skilfully and importantly focuses on two of the measures that were followed to relieve economic strain: infanticide and prostitution. He conveys the sense of utter hopelessness that was felt by the peasants, which had to have reached a truly great level to force families to adopt such horrible practices. While they did regret, for example, selling their daughters into brothels, many of the source documents describe the families as without any other means of survival; receiving several hundred yen for the sale of a daughter was likely a godsend to most peasants who were heavily in debt to landlords and money-lenders. Hane tactfully, yet explicitly, details the wretched lives of the girls sold into prostitution: although they were frequently abused by their clients and perhaps even more so by their employers, they were commonly in debt to the brothel owners and therefore had no legal opportunity to escape to a more “human” existence.

Consequently, many young people from the lower classes believed that a better life for them was to be found working in the newly emerging factories and mines. Alternately however, they were merely exploited as a source of inexpensive labour, and were accordingly treated as expendable and unimportant. Indeed, as had been the case throughout the early industrial period and especially in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, in order for the workers to maintain the pace of the production level of the machines they operated, they themselves had to act as machines in a Dickensian fashion. Workers frequently laboured in shifts of more than fourteen hours and in a few instances, mostly in the mines where quotas were demanded, as much as twenty or more. Additionally, the workers were kept labouring and “coordinated” by foremen who exercised their authority in a very brutal manner. Hane provides explicit accounts of workers treated almost as poorly as Korean prisoners of war (pp. 230-42). Although some workers received wages of greater than one hundred yen per month, a considerable sum compared to farm life, the majority earned a much lower pay. Indeed, as many workers were sold to the factories by their families — in a similar manner as the young girls had been sold into prostitution — they were in debt to their employers and thus could not legally leave their jobs. Perhaps the greatest strength of Hane’s text is his treatment of these industrial workers. Their cruel and inhumane predicament remains one of the most persuasive aspects of his argument, as the extracts he provides elicit great sympathy from modern readers.

Of secondary importance to Hane is the nature of the Japanese educational system during this period. It stressed moral purity and loyalty to the Emperor and the state (shūshin and chūkun aikoku respectively), and indeed it became a potent tool for indoctrinating the Japanese populace towards the support of the Emperor. Hane is convincing in his argument that the cult of the Emperor as taught in public schools was quickly and seamlessly converted to one of militant nationalism that fuelled the armed forces (pp. 59-62). Young peasant men who had been educated with the chūkun aikoku morality would certainly have seen the army as the most favourable means of escaping the poverty in their villages. Additionally, they would be elevated in status, as to the Japanese populace the army was seen as glorious and auspicious. Despite the lure to the population however, Hane reveals that the armed forces were as equally exploitative of the lower classes as the industrialists stated above. They had to endure a great amount of abuse from their superior officers, and they in turn maltreated their inferiors, which included foreign civilians, most notably the Koreans. The appeal of the armed forces continued however, and it proceeded to envelop the Japanese population and society. So too did the chūkun aikoku ideology, which reached a zenith with the Kamikaze pilots of World War II. While the educational system did ensure obedience to higher authorities, and especially a subservience to the Emperor, it was never completely successful at indoctrinating the population. There were a great many revolts and uprisings during the early industrial period, ranging from tenant disputes to factory strikes. In this instance Hane is slightly incomplete in his argument, as he does not correlate the reform movement with the dogma taught in the educational system. This inconsistency is linked with the anti-industrial subtext outlined above. It is precisely because of the educational and economic gains produced by modernization that peasants began to become aware of the exploitative relationship between them and the upper classes, and consequently act to reform the Japanese socio-economic structure. Hane’s criticism of the educational system during this period remains valid and convincing however, despite such a minor oversight.

It is perhaps far too easy in the late twentieth century to agree with Mikiso Hane’s arguments concerning the welfare of the lower classes. Contemporary readers are much too accustomed to the apparent freedoms of today’s social and economic climate to appreciate the journey that is required to achieve those liberties. Arguably, the period of poverty and despair that accompanies the early stages of industrialization are required in order to proceed to a post-industrial state. Such a harsh reality of Dickensian social costs has certainly existed in the history of every modern nation, and despite Hane’s “rural nostalgia”, Japan was not to be exempted from the consequences of modernization. Nevertheless, he has provided an important study on the lower classes during the transition from a pre- to a post-industrial society. His arguments are largely complete and, especially to a leftist reader, convincing. The text is highly readable and clearly communicated, and is therefore readily understood by both academics and the general population. Indeed, the diaries and fictional extracts lend Peasants, Rebels, & Outcastes a vivacity and emotionalism not usually associated with socio-economic academia.