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高い対称性と広いπ平面を有するエチニルピリジン大環状分子の高次構造体形成に関する研究
Get PDF富山大学博士（薬科学）Article富山大学・富医薬博甲第265号・鈴木 大貴・2018/03/23 ★論文非公開
アルキニル蛍光色素とγ－シクロデキストリンからなるロタキサン型円偏光発光性色素の開発とその一般化
Get PDF富山大学博士（薬科学）Article富山大学・富医薬博甲第267号・林 滉一朗・2018/03/23 ★論文非公開
Lung-resident natural killer cells control pulmonary tumor growth in mice
Get PDF富山大学博士（医学）application/pdfArticle富山大学・富医薬博甲第277号・山本 優・2018/06/27Yamamoto Y, Miyazato K, Takahashi K, Yoshimura N, Tahara H, Hayakawa Y. Lung‐resident natural killer cells control pulmonary tumor growth in mice. Cancer Sci. 2018;00:1–7
｢人間を守れない日本社会｣を改めていくための理科教育の役割
Get PDFPresentation科学教育研究協議会第65回全国研究大会群馬大会, 日程：2018年8月3日(金)～5日(日), 会場：高崎健康福祉大学高崎高
4th Hearn talk: audio file
No full textapplication/mp3テーマ：美しきクレオール：ユーマを読む
・私たちが抱いているアメリカのイメージ
南北戦争（1861年～1865年）とは？
南部の人々，プランテーションの大農園主
サトウキビのモノカルチャー
・『ユーマ：西インドの奴隷の物語』Youma, The Story of a West-Indian Slave.
初出『ハーパー・マンスリー』1890年1月号，2月号
同年5月，ハーパー社より単行本として出版
・平井呈一「八雲の小説」より
どうもハーンという人は，小説というものの要素にアンバランスな感覚を持っているのではないかと思われるくらい，小説的効果を無視して，小説的効果のないヴィジョンに力瘤を入れる性癖があるように思われます。そのくせ小説的急所は素通りしています。（翻訳『仏領西インドの二年間』下，「あとがき」445頁）
・中田堅次「ユーマ」の項目より
作品の評価ということになると，一部の批評家は好意的であったが，文体や部分的な描写には技巧が凝らされてはいるが，プロットや心理描写が手薄で小説としてのバランスに欠けている，というのが大方の見方だったようである。
この点は先に触れた『チータ』も同様で，ハーンはこれら二作によって小説家としての創作能力の限界を悟り，やがて原話のある短い物語の再話に新たな文学的境地を切り拓いたと言われる。（平川祐弘監修『小泉八雲事典』より，666頁）
・クレオール小説の元祖
・『ユーマ』の構成
献辞：わが友ジョゼフ・S・デュニソンに
導入：乳母（ダア）について
１．ユーマの出自および幼少期，性格，成長
２．デリヴィエール家の所有していたアンヌ・マリーヌの農場の描写
クレオールの物語，クレオール語による教義問答，クレオールの物語
３．ユーマの乳母としての日常，さまざまな物語をマヨットに聞かせる，「ケレマン婆さん」の挿話
４．マヨットの部屋，ユーマ蛇に咬まれる，ガブリエルに助けられる
５．ガブリエルの好意，贈り物
６．ガブリエル，デリヴィエール氏にユーマを嫁にしたいと頼む
７．ペロネット夫人，ユーマをアンヌ・マリーヌから引き戻そうとする。
ユーマの苦悩，自らの奴隷という立場に煩悶。
ガブリエルがドミニカへの出奔を示唆
８．ユーマの煩悶
９．海岸，マヨットと遊ぶユーマ，ガブリエルが再び誘いに来る，
ガブリエルとの長い会話，ガブリエルの誘いを断る
１０．アンヌ・マリーヌ最後の夜，血葛の挿話
１１．奴隷による武装蜂起
１２．奴隷による武装蜂起
１３．ユーマとデリヴィエール氏との会話
１４．ユーマの最期
以下のページ数は，『The writings of Lafcadio Hearn: Vol 4』による
Page 261
YOUMA
The da, during old colonial days, often held high
rank in rich Martinique households. The da was
usually a Creole negress -- more often, at all events,
of the darker than of the lighter hue -- more com-
monly a capresse than a mestive; but in her particu-
lar case the prejudice of color did not exist. The da
was a slave; but no freedwoman, however beautiful
or cultivated, could enjoy social privileges equal to
those of certain das. The da was respected and loved
as a mother: she was at once a foster-mother and
nurse. For the Creole child had two mothers: the
aristocratic white mother who gave him birth; the
dark bond-mother who gave him all care -- who
nursed him, bathed him, taught him to speak the
soft and musical speech of slaves, took him out in
her arms to show him the beautiful tropic world,
told him wonderful folk-stories of evenings, lulled
him to sleep, attended to his every possible want by
day or by night. It was not to be wondered at that
during infancy the da should have been loved more
than the white mother: when there was any marked
preference it was nearly always in the da's favor.
The child was much more with her than with his
real mother: she alone satisfied all his little needs;
he found her more indulgent, more patient, perhaps
even more caressing, than the other. The da was
herself at heart a child, speaking a child-language,
finding pleasure in childish things -- artless, play-
ful, affectionate; she comprehended the thoughts,
the impulses, the pains, the faults of the little one
as the white mother could not always have done:
she knew intuitively how to soothe him upon all
occasions, how to amuse him, how to excite and
caress his imagination; -- there was absolute har-
mony between their natures -- a happy community
of likes and dislikes -- a perfect sympathy in the
animal joy of being. Later on, when the child had
become old enough to receive his first lessons from a
tutor or governess, to learn to speak French, the
affection for the da and the affection for the mother
began to differentiate in accordance with mental
expansion; but, though the mother might be more
loved, the da was not less cherished than before.
The love of the nurse lasted through life; and the
relation of the da to the family seldom ceased --
except in those cruel instances where she was only
"hired" from another slave-holder.
Page 266
I
There are old persons still living in Saint Pierre
who remember Youma, a tall capresse, the property
of Madame Léonie Peyronnette. The servant was
better known than the mistress; -- for Madame
Peyronnette went out little after the loss of her
husband, a wealthy merchant, who had left her in
more than comfortable circumstances.
Youma was a pet slave, and also the godchild of
Madame Peyronnette: it was not uncommon dur-
ing the old regime for Creole ladies to become god-
mothers of little slaves. Douceline, the mother of
Youma, had been purchased as a da for Madame
Peyronnette's only child, Aimeé -- and had died
when Aimée was nearly five years old. The two
children were nearly the same age, and seemed much
attached to each other: after Douceline's death,
Madame Peyronnette resolved to bring up the little
capresse as a playmate for her daughter.
The dispositions of the two children were notice-
ably different; and with their growth, the difference
became more marked. Aimée was demonstrative
and affectionate, sensitive and passionate -- quick
to veer from joy to grief, from tears to smiles.
Youma, on the contrary, was almost taciturn, sel-
dom betrayed emotion: she would play silently when
Aimeé screamed, and scarcely smile when Aimeé
laughed so violently as to frighten her mother. In
spite of these differences of organization, or perhaps
because of them, the two got along together very
well : they had never a serious quarrel, and were first
separated only when Aimeé, at the age of nine, was
sent to a convent to receive an education more
finished than it was thought that private teachers
were capable of giving. Aimeé's grief at parting
from her playmate was not assuaged by the assur-
ance that she would find at school nicer companions
than a young capresse; -- Youma, who had cer-
tainly more to lose by the change, remained out-
wardly calm -- "était d'une conduite irréprocha-
ble," said Madame Peyronnette, too fine an observer
to attribute the "irreproachable conduct" to insen-
sibility.
The friends continued to see each other, however;
for Madame Peyronnette drove to the convent in
her carriage regularly every Sunday, always taking
Youma with her; and Aimée seemed scarcely less
delighted to see her former playmate than to see
her mother. During the first summer vacation and
the Christmas holidays, the companionship of child-
hood was naively resumed; and the mutual affection
survived the subsequent natural change of relation:
though nominally a bonne, who addressed Aimée as
a mistress, Youma was treated almost as a foster-
sister. And when Mademoiselle had finished her
studies, the young slave-maid remained her confi-
dante, and to some extent her companion. Youma
had never learned to read and write; Madame
Peyronnette believed that to educate her would
only make her dissatisfied with the scope of a destiny
out of which no effort could elevate her; but the girl
had a natural intelligence which compensated her
lack of mental training in many respects: she knew
what to do and how to speak upon all occasions.
She had grown up into a superb woman -- cer-
tainly the finest capresse of the arrondissement.
Her tint was a clear deep red; -- there was in her
features a soft vague beauty -- a something that
suggested the indefinable face of the Sphinx, espe-
cially in profile; -- her hair, though curly as a black
fleece, was long and not uncomely; she was graceful,
furthermore, and very tall. At fifteen she had
seemed a woman; at eighteen she was taller by head
and shoulders than her young mistress; and Made-
moiselle Aimee, though not below the average stat-
ure, had to lift up her eyes, when they walked out
together, to look into Youma's face. The young
bonne was universally admired: she was one of those
figures that a Martiniquais would point out with
pride to a stranger as a type of the beauty of the
mixed race. Even in slave days, the Creole did not
refuse himself the pleasure of admiring in human
skin those tones none fear to praise in bronze or
gold: he frankly confessed them exquisite; -- aes-
thetically, his "color prejudice" had no existence.
There were few young whites, nevertheless, who
would have presumed to tell their admiration to
Youma: there was something in the eyes and the
serious manner of the young slave that protected
her quite as much as the moral power of the family
m which she had been brought up.
Madame Peyronnette was proud of her servant,
and took pleasure in seeing her attired as hand-
somely as possible in the brilliant and graceful cos-
tume then worn by the women of color. In regard
to dress, Youma had no reason to envy any of the
freed class: she had all that a capresse could wish to
wear, according to local ideas of color contrast --
jupes of silk and of satin -- robes-dezindes with
head-dresses and foulards to match -- azure with
orange, red with violet, yellow with bright blue,
green with rose. On particular occasions, such as
the first communion of Aimée, the fête of madame, a
ball, a wedding to which the family were invited,
Youma's costume was magnificent. With her trail-
ing jupe of orange satin attached just below the
bosom, and exposing above it the laced and em-
broidered chemise, with half-sleeves leaving the
braceleted arms bare, and fastened at the elbow with
gold clasps (boutons-à-clous) ; -- her neck-kerchief
(mouchouè-en-lai) of canary yellow striped with
green and blue; -- her triple necklace of graven
gold beads (collier-chou) ; -- her flashing ear- pend-
ants (zanneaux-à-clou), each a packet of thick gold
cylinders interjoined; -- her yellow-banded Madras
turban, dazzling with jewelry -- " trembling-pins,"
chainlets, quivering acorns of gold (broches-à-gland)
-- she might have posed to a painter for the Queen
of Shcba. There were various pretty presents from
Aim6e among Youma's ornaments; but the greater
part of the jewelry had been purchased for her by
Madame Peyronnette, in a series of New- Year gifts.
Youma was denied no pleasure which it was thought
she might reasonably wish for -- except liberty.
Page 282
... Often, when the nights were clear and warm,
the slaves would assemble after the evening meal,
to hear stories told by the libres-de-savane (old men
and women exempted from physical labor) -- those
curious stories which composed the best part of the
unwritten literature of a people forbidden to read.
In those days, such oral literature gave delight to
adults as well as to children, to bèkés as well as to
negroes: it even exerted some visible influence upon
colonial character. Every da was a story-teller.
Her recitals first developed in the white child in-
trusted to her care the power of fancy -- Africaniz-
ing it, perhaps, to a degree that after-education
could not totally remove -- creating a love of the
droll and the extraordinary. One did not weary of
hearing these stories often repeated; -- for they
were told with an art impossible to describe; and
the little songs or refrains belonging to each --
sometimes composed of African words, more often
of nonsense-rhymes imitating the bamboula chants
and caleinda improvisations -- held a weird charm
which great musicians have confessed. And further-
more, in these contes Creoles -- whether of purely
African invention, or merely African adaptation of
old-world folk-lore and fable -- the local color is
marvelous: there is such a reflection of colonial
thought and life as no translation can preserve.
The scenes are laid among West Indian woods and
hills, or sometimes in the quaintest quarter of an old
colonial port. The European cottage of folk-tale
becomes the tropical case or ajoupa, with walls
of bamboo and roof of dried cane-leaves; -- the
Sleeping Beauties could never be discovered in their
primeval forest but by some nègue-marron or chas-
seu-chou; -- the Cinderellas and Princesses appear
as beautiful half-breed girls, wearing a costume
never seen in picture-books; -- the fairies of old-
world myth are changed into the Bon-Dié or the
Virgin Mary; -- the Bluebeards and giants turn into
quimboiseurs and devils; -- the devils themselves
(except when they yawn to show the fire in their
throats) so closely resemble the half-nude travail-
leurs, with their canvas trousers and mouchouè-
fautas and other details of costume, as not to be
readily recognized: it requires keen inspection to
detect the diabolic signs -- the red hair, crimson
eyes, and horn-roots under the shadowing of the
enormous "mule-food hat" or the chapeau-bacouè.
Then the Bon-Dié, the "Good-God," figures as
the best and kindest of old békés -- an affable gray
planter whose habitation lies somewhere in the
clouds over the Montagne Pelée: you can see his
"sheep" and his " choux-caraibes " sometimes in
the sky. And the breaker of enchantments is the
parish priest -- Missié labbé -- who saves pretty
naughty girls by passing his stole about their necks.
... It was at Anse-Marine that Youma found most
of the tales she recounted to Mayotte, when the
child became old enough to take delight in them.
(中略）
Page 288
one must not tell stories in the daytime, unless one
wants to see zombis at night!"
"No, da! ... tell me one ... I am not afraid,
da."
"Oh! the little liar! ... You are afraid -- very
much afraid of zombis. And if I tell you a story you
will see them to-night."
"Doudoux-da, no! -- tell me one...."
"You will not wake me up to-night, and tell me
you see zombis?"
"No, da ? I promise."
"Well, then, for this once" -- said Youma, utter-
ing the traditional words which announce that the
Creole story-teller is ready -- "bobonne fois?"
"Toua fois bel conte!" cried the delighted child.
And Youma began:
DAME KÉLÉMENT
Long, long ago there lived an old woman who every-
body said was a witch, and in league with the devil. And
nearly all the bad things said about her were true.
One day a poor little girl lost her way in the woods.
After she had walked until she could not walk any more,
she sat down and began to cry. She cried for a long, long
time.
All about her she could see nothing but trees and
lianas; -- all the ground was covered with slippery green
roots; and the trees were so high, and the lianas so woven
between them, that there was very little light. She was
lost in the grands bois -- the great woods which swarm
with serpents....
All at once, while she sat there crying, she heard strange
sounds quite near her -- sounds of singing and dancing.
She got up and walked toward the sounds. Looking
through the trees she saw the same old woman that people
used to talk about, riding on a balai-zo,*[1] and dancing
round and round in a ring with ever so many serpents
and crapaud-Jade -- great ugly toads. And they were all
singing:
Kingué,
Kingué;
Vonvon
Malato,
Vloum-voum!
Jambi,
Kingué,
Tou galé,
Zogalé,
Vloum!
The little girl stood there stupid with fright: she could
not even cry any more.
But the old woman had seen the leaves move; and she
came with a sort of fire playing all round her, and asked
the little girl:
"What are you doing in the razié?" *[2]
"Mother, I lost my way in the woods."...
"Then, my child, you must come to the house with
me.... You might undo me, unravel me, destroy me if
you had a chance."
The little girl did not understand all that, the old woman
said; for the wicked old creature was talking about mat-
ters that only sorcerers know.
By the time they got to the house, the poor child was
very tired: she sat down on a calabash which served the
witch for a chair. Then she saw the old woman light two
fires on the earth floor, with torch-gum -- which smells
*[1] A broom made of the branches of a shrub called guiyantine.
*[2] Razié: the lower growths which occupy the ground under forest-
trees, or cover the soil in places where the trees have been cleared away.
like incense. On one fire she placed a big pot full of man-
man-chou, camagnioc, yams, christophines, bananas,
devil's egg-plants (melongène-diabe), and many herbs the
little girl did not know the names of. On the other fire she
began to broil some toads, and an earth-lizard -- zanoli-
tè.
At noon the old woman swallowed all that as if it was
nothing at all; -- then she looked at the little girl, who
was nearly dead for hunger, and said to her:
"Until you can tell me what name I am called by, you
will not get anything to eat." ... Then she went away,
leaving the little girl alone.
The little girl began to weep. Suddenly she felt some-
thing touching her. It was a big serpent -- the biggest
she had ever seen. She was so frightened that she almost
died; -- then she cried out:
"Oti papa moin? -- oti manman moin?
Latitolé ké mangé" moin!"
But the serpent did not do her any harm: he only rubbed
his head fondly against her shoulder, and sang:
"Bennemè, bennepè -- tambou belai!
Ychc p'accoutoume' tambou belai!"
The little girl cried out louder than before:
"Oti papa moin? -- oti manman moin?
Latitole ke mangl moin!"
But the serpent, still rubbing his head fondly against her,
answered, singing very softly:
"Bennepè, bennemè -- tambou belai!
Ychc p'accoutouml tambou belai!"
Then when he saw she had become less afraid, he lifted his
head close to her ear, and whispered something.
The moment she heard it she ran out of the house and
into the woods again. There she began to ask all the ani-
mals she met to tell her the old witch's name.
She asked every four-footed beast; -- she asked all the
lizards and the birds. But they did not know.
She came to a big river, and she asked all the fishes.
The fishes, one after another, made answer to her that
they did not know. But the cirique, the river crab that is
yellow like a plantain -- the cirique knew. The cirique
was the only one in the whole world who knew the name.
The name was Dame Kélément.
... Then the child ran back to the house with all her
might; her little stomach was paining her so that she felt
she could not bear the pain much longer. The old woman
was already at the house, scraping some manioc to make
flour and cassave.... The little girl walked up to her,
and said:
"Give me to eat, Dame Kélément."
Two flashes of fire leaped from the witch's eyes: she
gave such a start that she nearly broke her head against
the iron-stones that she balanced her pots on.
"Child! you have got the better of me!" she screamed.
"Take everything! -- take it, take it! -- eat, eat, eat! --
all in the house is yours!"
Then she sprang through the door quick as a powder-
flash: she seemed to fly through the fields and woods....
And she ran straight to the river; -- for it was deep under
the bed of the river that the Devil had buried the name
which he had given her. She stood on the bank, and
chanted:
"Loche, O loche! -- was it you who told that my
name was Dame Kélément?"
Then the loche, that is black like the black stones of the
stream, lifted up its head, and cried:
"No, mamma! -- no, mamma! -- it was not I who
told that your name was Dame Kélément."
"Titiri, O titiri! -- tell me, was it any among you who
told that my name was Dame Kélément?"
Then the titiri, the tiny transparent titiri, answered all
together, clinging to the stones:
"No, mamma! -- no, mamma! -- none of us ever said
that your name was Dame Kélément."
"Cribfche, O cribfche! -- was it you who told that my
name was Dame Kélément?"
Then the cribfche, the great crawfish of the river, lifted
up his head and his claws, and made answer:
"No, mamma! -- no, mamma! -- it was not I who
said that your name was Dame Kélément."
"Tétart, O tétart! -- was it you who said that my
name was Dame Kélément?"
And the titart, that is gray like the gray rocks of iron
to which it holds fast, made answer, saying:
"No, mamma! -- no, mamma! -- it was not I who told
them that your name was Dame Kélément."
"Dormeur, O dormeur! -- was it you who told that
my name was Dame Kélément?"
And the dormeur, the lazy dormeur, that sleeps in
the shadow of the rocks, awoke and rose and made
answer:
"No, mamma! -- no, mamma! -- it was not I who told
them that your name was Dame Kélément."
"Matavalé, O matavalé! -- was it you that said my
name was Dame Kélément?"
And the matavalé, the shining matavalé, that flashes
like copper when the sun touches his scales, opened his
mouth and answered:
"No, mamma! -- no, mamma! -- I never said that
your name was Dame Kélément!"
"Milet! -- bouc! -- pisquette! -- zangui! -- zhabitant!
-- was it any one among you who told that my name
was Dame Kélément?"
But they all cried out:
"No, no, no, mamma! -- none of us ever said that your
name was Dame Kélément."
"Cirique, O cirique! -- was it you who said my name
was Dame Kélément?"
Then the cirique lifted up his eyes and his yellow claws,
and screamed:
"Yes, you old wretch! -- yes, you old witch! -- yes,
you old malediction! -- yes, it was I who said that your
name was Dame Kélément!" ...
The moment she heard those words she stamped on the
ground so hard that the Devil heard her, and opened a
great hole at her feet; and she leaped into it head-first.
And the ground closed over her. Two days after, there
grew up from the place a clump of the weed they call
arrête-nègue -- the plant that is all thorns.
Now while this was happening, the serpent had turned
into a man; -- for the old witch had changed a man into
that serpent. He took the little girl by the hand, and led
her to her mother.
But they came back again next day to search the old
woman's cabin. They found in it seven casks filled with
the bones of dead people; and also ever so much silver and
gold -- more than enough to make the little girl rich.
When she got married, there was the finest wedding ever
seen in this country.
Page 295
IV
Youma was alone in the house that night with the
child; for M. Desrivières had ridden over to Sainte-
Marie, and the servants occupied an adjoining build-
ing.... She was
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1st Hearn talk: audio file
No full textapplication/mp3テーマ：日本の第一印象―未知の感動を伝えること―
0-1.ハーンの生涯と著作
・ハーンの生涯
【幼年期～少年期（0～19歳）1850年6月27日～1869年】
1850年6月27日 ギリシアのレフカダ島に生まれる
父はアイルランド人医師（当時英国軍医）
母はギリシア人
1852年 家族とともにダブリン（アイルランド）移住
1854年 母，単身帰国
1861年 イヴトー（フランスのノルマンディー地方）の教会学校に入学？
1863年 アショー・カレッジ（イギリスのダーラム）に入学
1866年 左眼を失明，この年父死去
1867年 アショー・カレッジ中退
以降渡米までの足跡が不明
このあと，フランスの神学校へ入学したという説もある
ロンドンで貧乏な生活を送る
【アメリカ時代 1869年～1890年】
1869年 イギリスまたはフランスからアメリカ・ニューヨークに到着
オハイオ州シンシナティへ
印刷屋の下働き，牧師の秘書などを務め，週刊誌などに投稿を始める
1874年 「シンシナティ・エンクワイアラー」紙の社員となる（75年に解雇）
1877年 ルイジアナ州ニューオリンズに移る
「アイテム」紙・「デモクラット」紙に寄稿
フランス文学の翻訳を試みる
（ボードレール，ゴーティエ，フロベールなど）
クレオール文化や文学に関心を抱く
1881年 「タイムズ・デモクラット」の文芸部長となる
→蔵書300冊を超える
1885年12月16日 万国産業綿花百年記念博覧会見学
日本館の展示品に興味を惹かれる
服部一三，高峰譲吉と出会う
ピエール・ロティと文通
1886年 仏領西インド諸島訪問。約2年間滞在
1889年 ニューヨークに戻る
1890年 日本行きを決意
【日本時代 1890年4月～1904年9月26日】
1890年4月 横浜に到着。チェンバレンの知己を得る
横山の神社仏閣をめぐる。江の島・鎌倉を見学
1890年7月 島根尋常中学校および師範学校の英語教師となる契約を結ぶ
8月松江入り。9月初めから授業開始
「へるん」印をつくる，小泉セツと出会う
1891年11月 熊本にセツ一家とともに移住，第五高等学校で授業を始める
1893年 長男一雄誕生
1894年 神戸クロニクル社に転職。熊本を離れる
1896年 帰化。小泉八雲となる。入籍
1896年 帝国大学文科大学講師となる
英文学史・詩論・詩人論などを週12時間講義
日本に関する著作を精力的に発表
1903年1月 東京帝国大学解雇
この次期渡米も考えていたが，健康上の理由で断念
1904年3月 早稲田大学にて英文学と英文学史の講義を行う
1904年9月26日 心臓発作のため死去
・ハーンの著作
【米国時代：7冊】
Stray leaves from strange literature (1884年)
Gombo Zhèbes: Little Dictionary of Creole Proverbs (1885年)
La cuisine creole : a collection of culinary recipes (1885年)
Some Chinese ghosts (1887年)
Chita: a memory of Last island (1889年)
Youma; the story of a West-Indian slave (1890年)
Two years in the French West Indies (1890年)
米国時代の新聞記事，コラムなど
シンシナティ時代『シンシナティ・インクワイアラー』
ニューオリンズ時代『アイテム』『タイムズ・デモクラット』のちに文芸部長
【来日後：12冊】
Glimpses of unfamiliar Japan (1894年)
Out of the East: reveries and studies in New Japan (1895年)
Kokoro : hints and echoes of Japanese inner life (1896年)
Gleanings in Buddha-fields : Studies of hand and soul in the Far East (1897年)
Exotics and retrospectives (1898年)
In ghostly Japan (1899年)
Shadowings (1900年)
A Japanese miscellany (1901年)
Kotto: Being Japanese Curios, with Sundry Cobwebs (1902年)
Kwaidan: : Stories and studies of strange things (1904年)
Japan : an attempt at interpretation (1904年)
The romance of the Milky Way and other studies & stories (1905年)
ちりめん本5冊（長谷川武次郎刊行の日本昔噺シリーズ：Japanese Fairy Tale）
The Boy who drew Cats (1898年)
The Goblin Spider (1899年)
The old Woman who lost her Dumpling (1902年)
Chin Chin Kobakama-The Fairies of the Floor-Boards (1903年)
The Fountain of Youth (1922年)
【ハーンの講義録】
第五高等学校（熊本・現熊本大学）
東京帝国大学（東京・現東京大学）
「英語」「英文学」「英文学史」「文学論」
その時の学生のノートをもとに講義録が出版されている
0-2.富山大学附属図書館所蔵ヘルン文庫の構成
・洋書2,069冊
英語で書かれた本：1,350冊
フランス語で書かれた本：719冊
・和漢書364冊
・Japan: An Attempt at Interpretation 『日本一つの解明』手書き原稿上下 1,200枚
※このうち500冊近くは，来日時にハーンがアメリカにおいてきた本
友人宅にいわば借金のかたとして置いてきたままになり，ハーン没後，係争ののち，1908年に小泉家に返却された
→ハーンは生前二度と目にすることはできなかった
（カタログでは「*」がついている）
・旧制富山高等学校および富山大学で作成された3つのカタログ
※以下は資料（原文と日本語訳）配布のみ。
1-1.Glimpses of unfamiliar Japan
第1章：極東第一日
My first day in the orient
'Do not fail to write down your first impressions as soon as possible,' said a kind English professor [Basil Hall Chamberlain: PREPARATOR'S NOTE] whom I had the pleasure of meeting soon after my arrival in Japan: 'they are evanescent, you know; they will never come to you again, once they have faded out; and yet of all the strange sensations you may receive in this country you will feel none so charming as these.' I am trying now to reproduce them from the hasty notes of the time, and find that they were even more fugitive than charming; something has evaporated from all my recollections of them--something impossible to recall. I neglected the friendly advice, in spite of all resolves to obey it: I could not, in those first weeks, resign myself to remain indoors and write, while there was yet so much to see and hear and feel in the sun-steeped ways of the wonderful Japanese city. Still, even could I revive all the lost sensations of those first experiences, I doubt if I could express and fix them in words. The first charm of Japan is intangible and volatile as a perfume.
It began for me with my first kuruma-ride out of the European quarter of Yokohama into the Japanese town; and so much as I can recall of it is hereafter set down.
Sec. 1
It is with the delicious surprise of the first journey through Japanese streets--unable to make one's kuruma-runner understand anything but gestures, frantic gestures to roll on anywhere, everywhere, since all is unspeakably pleasurable and new--that one first receives the real sensation of being in the Orient, in this Far East so much read of, so long dreamed of, yet, as the eyes bear witness, heretofore all unknown. There is a romance even in the first full consciousness of this rather commonplace fact; but for me this consciousness is transfigured inexpressibly by the divine beauty of the day. There is some charm unutterable in the morning air, cool with the coolness of Japanese spring and wind-waves from the snowy cone of Fuji; a charm perhaps due rather to softest lucidity than to any positive tone--an atmospheric limpidity extraordinary, with only a suggestion of blue in it, through which the most distant objects appear focused with amazing sharpness. The sun is only pleasantly warm; the jinricksha, or kuruma, is the most cosy little vehicle imaginable; and the street-vistas, as seen above the dancing white mushroom-shaped hat of my sandalled runner, have an allurement of which I fancy that I could never weary.
Elfish everything seems; for everything as well as everybody is small, and queer, and mysterious: the little houses under their blue roofs, the little shop-fronts hung with blue, and the smiling little people in their blue costumes. The illusion is only broken by the occasional passing of a tall foreigner, and by divers shop-signs bearing announcements in absurd attempts at English. Nevertheless such discords only serve to emphasise reality; they never materially lessen the fascination of the funny little streets.
'Tis at first a delightfully odd confusion only, as you look down one of them, through an interminable flutter of flags and swaying of dark blue drapery, all made beautiful and mysterious with Japanese or Chinese lettering. For there are no immediately discernible laws of construction or decoration: each building seems to have a fantastic prettiness of its own; nothing is exactly like anything else, and all is bewilderingly novel. But gradually, after an hour passed in the quarter, the eye begins to recognise in a vague way some general plan in the construction of these low, light, queerly-gabled wooden houses, mostly unpainted, with their first stories all open to the street, and thin strips of roofing sloping above each shop-front, like awnings, back to the miniature balconies of paper-screened second stories. You begin to understand the common plan of the tiny shops, with their matted floors well raised above the street level, and the general perpendicular arrangement of sign-lettering, whether undulating on drapery or glimmering on gilded and lacquered signboards. You observe that the same rich dark blue which dominates in popular costume rules also in shop draperies, though there is a sprinkling of other tints--bright blue and white and red (no greens or yellows). And then you note also that the dresses of the labourers are lettered with the same wonderful lettering as the shop draperies. No arabesques could produce such an effect. As modified for decorative purposes these ideographs have a speaking symmetry which no design without a meaning could possess. As they appear on the back of a workman's frock--pure white on dark blue--and large enough to be easily read at a great distance (indicating some guild or company of which the wearer is a member or employee), they give to the poor cheap garment a fictitious appearance of splendour. And finally, while you are still puzzling over the mystery of things, there will come to you like a revelation the knowledge that most of the amazing picturesqueness of these streets is simply due to the profusion of Chinese and Japanese characters in white, black, blue, or gold, decorating everything--even surfaces of doorposts and paper screens. Perhaps, then, for one moment, you will imagine the effect of English lettering substituted for those magical characters; and the mere idea will give to whatever aesthetic sentiment you may possess a brutal shock, and you will become, as I have become, an enemy of the Romaji-Kwai--that society founded for the ugly utilitarian purpose of introducing the use of English letters in writing Japanese.
Sec. 2
An ideograph does not make upon the Japanese brain any impression similar to that created in the Occidental brain by a letter or combination of letters--dull, inanimate symbols of vocal sounds. To the Japanese brain an ideograph is a vivid picture: it lives; it speaks; it gesticulates. And the whole space of a Japanese street is full of such living characters--figures that cry out to the eyes, words that smile or grimace like faces.
What such lettering is, compared with our own lifeless types, can be understood only by those who have lived in the farther East. For even the printed characters of Japanese or Chinese imported texts give no suggestion of the possible beauty of the same characters as modified for decorative inscriptions, for sculptural use, or for the commonest advertising purposes. No rigid convention fetters the fancy of the calligrapher or designer: each strives to make his characters more beautiful than any others; and generations upon generations of artists have been toiling from time immemorial with like emulation, so that through centuries and centuries of tireless effort and study, the primitive hieroglyph or ideograph has been evolved into a thing of beauty indescribable. It consists only of a certain number of brush-strokes; but in each stroke there is an undiscoverable secret art of grace, proportion, imperceptible curve, which actually makes it seem alive, and bears witness that even during the lightning-moment of its creation the artist felt with his brush for the ideal shape of the stroke equally along its entire length, from head to tail. But the art of the strokes is not all; the art of their combination is that which produces the enchantment, often so as to astonish the Japanese themselves. It is not surprising, indeed, considering the strangely personal, animate, esoteric aspect of Japanese lettering, that there should be wonderful legends of calligraphy relating how words written by holy experts became incarnate, and descended from their tablets to hold converse with mankind.
Sec. 3
My kurumaya calls himself 'Cha.' He has a white hat which looks like the top of an enormous mushroom; a short blue wide-sleeved jacket; blue drawers, close-fitting as 'tights,' and reaching to his ankles; and light straw sandals bound upon his bare feet with cords of palmetto-fibre. Doubtless he typifies all the patience, endurance, and insidious coaxing powers of his class. He has already manifested his power to make me give him more than the law allows; and I have been warned against him in vain. For the first sensation of having a human being for a horse, trotting between shafts, unwearyingly bobbing up and down before you for hours, is alone enough to evoke a feeling of compassion. And when this human being, thus trotting between shafts, with all his hopes, memories, sentiments, and comprehensions, happens to have the gentlest smile, and the power to return the least favour by an apparent display of infinite gratitude, this compassion becomes sympathy, and provokes unreasoning impulses to self-sacrifice. I think the sight of the profuse perspiration has also something to do with the feeling, for it makes one think of the cost of heart-beats and muscle-contractions, likewise of chills, congestions, and pleurisy. Cha's clothing is drenched; and he mops his face with a small sky-blue towel, with figures of bamboo-sprays and sparrows in white upon it, which towel he carries wrapped about his wrist as he runs.
That, however, which attracts me in Cha--Cha considered not as a motive power at all, but as a personality--I am rapidly learning to discern in the multitudes of faces turned toward us as we roll through these miniature streets. And perhaps the supremely pleasurable impression of this morning is that produced by the singular gentleness of popular scrutiny. Everybody looks at you curiously; but there is never anything disagreeable, much less hostile in the gaze: most commonly it is accompanied by a smile or half smile. And the ultimate consequence of all these kindly curious looks and smiles is that the stranger finds himself thinking of fairy-land. Hackneyed to the degree of provocation this statement no doubt is: everybody describing the sensations of his first Japanese day talks of the land as fairyland, and of its people as fairy-folk. Yet there is a natural reason for this unanimity in choice of terms to describe what is almost impossible to describe more accurately at the first essay. To find one's self suddenly in a world where everything is upon a smaller and daintier scale than with us--a world of lesser and seemingly kindlier beings, all smiling at you as if to wish you well--a world where all movement is slow and soft, and voices are hushed--a world where land, life, and sky are unlike all that one has known elsewhere--this is surely the realisation, for imaginations nourished with English folklore, of the old dream of a World of Elves.
1-2.Two years in the French West Indies
荷運び女
Martinique Sketches: Les Porteuses
I.
When you find yourself for the first time, upon some unshadowed day, in the delightful West Indian city of St. Pierre,--supposing that you own the sense of poetry, the recollections of a student,--there is apt to steal upon your fancy an impression of having seen it all before, ever so long ago,--you cannot tell where. The sensation of some happy dream you cannot wholly recall might be compared to this feeling. In the simplicity and solidity of the quaint architecture,--in the eccentricity of bright narrow streets, all aglow with warm coloring,--in the tints of roof and wall, antiquated by streakings and patchings of mould greens and grays,--in the startling absence of window-sashes, glass, gas lamps, and chimneys,--in the blossom-tenderness of the blue heaven, the splendor of tropic light, and the warmth of the tropic wind,--you find less the impression of a scene of to-day than the sensation of something that was and is not. Slowly this feeling strengthens with your pleasure in the colorific radiance of costume,--the semi-nudity of passing figures,--the puissant shapeliness of torsos ruddily swart like statue metal,--the rounded outline of limbs yellow as tropic fruit,--the grace of attitudes,--the unconscious harmony of groupings,--the gathering and folding and falling of light robes that oscillate with swaying of free hips,--the sculptural symmetry of unshod feet. You look up and down the lemon-tinted streets,--down to the dazzling azure brightness of meeting sky and sea; up to the perpetual verdure of mountain woods--wondering at the mellowness of tones, the sharpness of lines in the light, the diaphaneity of colored shadows; always asking memory: "When?... where did I see all this... long ago?"....
Then, perhaps, your gaze is suddenly riveted by the vast and solemn beauty of the verdant violet-shaded mass of the dead Volcano,--high-towering above the town, visible from all its ways, and umbraged, maybe, with thinnest curlings of cloud,--like spectres of its ancient smoking to heaven. And all at once the secret of your dream is revealed, with the rising of many a luminous memory,--dreams of the Idyllists, flowers of old Sicilian song, fancies limned upon Pompeiian walls. For a moment the illusion is delicious: you comprehend as never before the charm of a vanished world,--the antique life, the story of terra-cottas and graven stones and gracious things exhumed: even the sun is not of to-day, but of twenty centuries gone;--thus, and under such a light, walked the women of the elder world. You know the fancy absurd;--that the power of the orb has visibly abated nothing in all the eras of man,--that millions are the ages of his almighty glory; but for one instant of reverie he seemeth larger,--even that sun impossible who coloreth the words, coloreth the works of artist-lovers of the past, with the gold light of dreams.
Too soon the hallucination is broken by modern sounds, dissipated by modern sights,--rough trolling of sailors descending to their boats,--the heavy boom of a packet's signal-gun,--the passing of an American buggy. Instantly you become aware that the melodious tongue spoken by the passing throng is neither Hellenic nor Roman: only the beautiful childish speech of French slaves.
II.
But what slaves were the fathers of this free generation? Your anthropologists, your ethnologists, seem at fault here: the African traits have become transformed; the African characteristics have been so modified within little more than two hundred years--by inter-blending of blood, by habit, by soil and sun and all those natural powers which shape the mould of races,--that you may look in vain for verification of ethnological assertions.... No: the heel does _not_ protrude;--the foot is _not_ flat, but finely arched;--the extremities are not large;--all the limbs taper, all the muscles are developed; and prognathism has become so rare that months of research may not yield a single striking case of it.... No: this is a special race, peculiar to the island as are the shapes of its peaks,--a mountain race; and mountain races are comely.... Compare it with the population of black Barbadoes, where the apish grossness of African coast types has been perpetuated unchanged;--and the contrast may well astonish!...
III.
The erect carriage and steady swift walk of the women who bear burdens is especially likely to impress the artistic observer: it is the sight of such passers-by which gives, above all, the antique tone and color to his first sensations;--and the larger part of the female population of mixed race are practised carriers. Nearly all the transportation of light merchandise, as well as of meats, fruits, vegetables, and food stuffs,--to and from the interior,--is effected upon human heads. At some of the ports the regular local packets are loaded and unloaded by women and girls,--able to carry any trunk or box to its destination. At Fort-de-France the great steamers of the Compagnie Generale Transatlantique, are entirely coaled by women, who carry the coal on their heads, singing as they come and go in processions of hundreds; and the work is done with incredible rapidity. Now, the creole _porteuse_, or female carrier, is certainly one of the most remarkable physical types in the world; and whatever artistic enthusiasm her graceful port, lithe walk, or half-savage beauty may inspire you with, you can form no idea, if a total stranger, what a really wonderful being she is.... Let me tell you something about that highest type of professional female carrier, which is to the _charbonniere_, or coaling-girl, what the thorough-bred racer is to the draught-horse,--the type of porteuse selected for swiftness and endurance to distribute goods in the interior parishes, or to sell on commission at long distances. To the same class
naturally belong those country carriers able to act as porteuses of plantation produce, fruits, or vegetables,--between the nearer ports and their own interior parishes.... Those who believe that great physical endurance and physical energy cannot exist in the tropics do not know the creole carrier-girl.Recording, oral中島淑恵（富山大学人文学部教授）が，これまでの研究成果を踏まえ，Lafcadio Hearn=ラフカディオ・ハーン＝小泉八雲に関する様々を語る
これは，当日，会場でICレコーダを用いて収録したMP3形式の音声ファイル日時：2018年4月25日（水）13:00～14:30
場所：富山大学附属図書館5階ヘルン文