The previous articles traced “I“‘s Edo dialect and the students’ Iyo dialect. But this novel holds one more figure close to a third narrating voice: Kiyo, the old servant who doted on “I” since childhood. Her speech carries a distinctive formality that belongs to neither dialect.
“Your brother’s is bought by your father” — composed honorifics
Kiyo dotes only on “I,” and treats his brother coldly. Asked why, she answers like this:
Sometimes I’d ask Kiyo why she gave things only to me and not to my brother. Composed as ever, she’d say: your brother’s is bought for him by your father, so there’s no need. (working translation)
“Your father,” rendered with honorific respect even toward a member of her own employer’s household, addressed with old-fashioned formality regardless of the listener — this stands in sharp contrast to “I“‘s own blunt “my brother.” Kiyo assesses “I” in the same register elsewhere, too:
You have such an honest, fine disposition. (working translation)
You want for little, and your heart is clean. (working translation)
The second person she uses toward him carries real deference — the kind of address reserved for someone above you, not a servant’s charge. That an employee would keep using this degree of formal courtesy toward the family’s youngest son shows, at once, both her sense of social station and the depth of her affection.
The style of a long letter
A scene shows a long letter from Kiyo reaching “I” after he’s taken his post in Matsuyama.
I meant to write back the moment I received your letter, young master, but unfortunately I caught a cold and was in bed about a week, so I’m sorry it’s been delayed. And unlike the young ladies these days, my reading and writing aren’t so practiced, so even writing this poorly takes real effort. … It may be hard to read, but I did write it with all my heart, so please do read to the end. (working translation)
She apologizes for her own fault, humbly excuses the poor quality of her handwriting by comparing herself to “the young ladies these days,” and asks him to read all the way through — this register of humility shows a courtesy distinct to letter-writing, different from the honorifics of spoken address. The narration itself echoes this:
Mostly written in hiragana, so it takes real effort just to make out where one thought ends and the next begins. (working translation)
“I” observes that Kiyo’s lack of formal education — never taught to write comfortably in kanji — shows through in the very shape of her writing.
“Young master” — a form of address that preserves a relationship
Kiyo calls “I” consistently by one term: Botchan, “young master.” Her letters, her spoken address, all of it — always “young master.” This is nothing like the nicknames seen in the previous article — “Badger,” “Red Shirt” — which carry irony or mockery. It is a form of address that preserves affection, and a former relation of mistress and servant, intact. Even the content of her letter never drops its caretaker’s tone, offering advice about the nicknames he’s given his colleagues:
Giving people nicknames carelessly only earns you resentment, so don’t overdo it. (working translation)
Speech that never changes, to the very end
Near the close of the novel, Kiyo falls ill and dies. Her words the day before her death are placed as the book’s closing lines.
The day before she died she called me to her side and said: young master, please, for pity’s sake, when Kiyo dies, bury her in your temple. I’ll wait there in the grave, looking forward to your coming. And so Kiyo’s grave is at Yōgenji temple in Koishikawa. (working translation)
The plea “for pity’s sake,” the polite request “please,” and the deferential “I’ll be waiting” — even at the deathbed, Kiyo’s manner of speech is exactly what it was from the very first page. It never shifts.
Worth checking as you read
First, this article does not attempt to identify Kiyo’s speech with any specific regional dialect. Her heavy use of honorifics — “your father,” “bought for him” — is better read as speech shaped by generation and social station, by her position as a household servant, rather than by geography.
Second, the portrait of Kiyo is, throughout, filtered through “I“‘s first-person point of view. There is no way, outside this novel, to confirm her own inner life or how she actually spoke.
Summary
| Point | Content |
|---|---|
| Heavy use of honorifics | Old-fashioned formality that extends respectful terms even to family members |
| Second person | “You” — a term of address carrying real deference |
| Letter style | A courtesy distinct to writing, layering apology and humility |
| Consistency | Her manner of speech never shifts, right through to her deathbed |
In short — Kiyo’s speech is neither Edo dialect nor Iyo dialect, but a distinctive, old-fashioned formality where social station and affection coexist, and it never wavers from the first page to the last.