The grandiose narration of “Wagahai,” seen in the previous article, only stands out fully set against a point of comparison. Early in the novel, that point of comparison appears — a tough known around the neighborhood as the rickshaw man’s tomcat.
The encounter
In the back garden’s tea patch, “Wagahai” runs into an unfamiliar, large black cat. True to form, it introduces itself politely.
“I am a cat. I have no name yet,” I answered, as composed and unruffled as I could manage. (working translation)
The tomcat’s reply to this is one of the sharpest moments of register-clash in the whole novel.
He said, with real contempt in his voice, “What, a cat? Don’t make me laugh. Where the hell do you even live?” (working translation)
“Don’t make me laugh,” “where the hell do you even live” — this is the coarse, uneducated speech typical of old downtown Edo. It sits in an entirely different register from “Wagahai“‘s polite, elevated “is” and “would seem to be” constructions.
“What the hell are you” — speech breaking down further
The tomcat’s speech continues in the same vein.
He fixed me with a piercing stare from deep in his eyes, aimed square at my puny little forehead, and said, “what the hell are you, anyway?” (working translation)
The narration itself (describing the tomcat) is still using lofty phrasing — “a piercing stare from deep in his eyes” — even as the tomcat’s own line is extremely coarse. Worth noting: this contrast happens within a single sentence, simultaneously.
Even the self-reference shows the difference
Asked his name, the tomcat answers:
“The name’s Kuro, the rickshaw man’s,” he said, full of swagger. (working translation)
Even in how he refers to himself, the rough edges show. That he belongs to a rickshaw puller’s household is reflected directly in how battered his speech is. “Wagahai” assesses him this way:
Judging by his manner of speech, he could hardly be from a respectable household. (working translation)
Judging someone’s upbringing and station from “manner of speech” alone — this is precisely the phenomenon this article is examining, articulated by the narrator itself.
Contempt for the lack of education
“Wagahai” reaches this conclusion from the tomcat’s speech:
Yet judging from how greasy and fat he is, he must be eating well — living comfortably, it would seem. (working translation)
And after hearing the tomcat’s name, continues:
Hearing his name gave me a faint, ticklish sort of embarrassment, and at the same time stirred up a certain contempt in me as well. I decided I’d first test just how ignorant he was, and put the following question to him. (working translation)
“Test just how ignorant he was” — “Wagahai” takes the tomcat’s coarse speech as evidence of a lack of intellect, and deliberately sets out to test his knowledge. A blatant class consciousness around education shows through here.
Worth checking as you read
First, “Wagahai“‘s judgment and contempt toward the tomcat’s speech is best read as characterization of the narrator itself, not necessarily a statement of Sōseki’s own values. If anything, this very haughtiness is part of what the novel caricatures about this cat, across the work as a whole.
Second, this article does not attempt to map the tomcat’s speech precisely onto any specific real dialect or social class. It is read here, in general terms, as an imitation of the traditional pattern of old downtown Edo speech, close to the beranmei cadence.
Summary
| Point | Content |
|---|---|
| The encounter | A polite self-introduction is met with coarse language from the tomcat |
| Broken-down forms | “Don’t make me laugh,” “where the hell,” “what the hell,” “the name’s Kuro” |
| “Wagahai“‘s judgment | Judges the other’s upbringing and station from manner of speech alone |
| Class consciousness | “Test just how ignorant he was” — an unmistakable note of condescension |
In short — “Wagahai” and the rickshaw man’s tomcat, though both cats, show a clear difference in education and class through manner of speech alone, and that gap only sharpens the narrator’s own haughtiness all the more.