As seen in the overview, the comedy of this novel arises from the gap between a lowly cat and its grandiose language. Let’s confirm the most basic choice that produces that gap: the pronoun.
The choice of “wagahai”
The narrator of Botchan uses ore; the narrator of Kokoro uses watakushi (article 009, article 253). This novel’s narrator chooses wagahai.
I am a cat. I have no name yet. (working translation)
In the Meiji era, wagahai was a grandiose first person used by men of high standing, or by superiors addressing those below them. That a nameless stray kitten, with no name to its own, should choose this word is, in itself, already deeply funny.
Narrating its origins — with an air of grandeur
The cat keeps this grandiosity intact even in narrating its own origins. Not knowing where it was born, abandoned in a bamboo thicket, wandering starved until a teacher’s household took it in — the content is, if anything, pitiable, and yet the telling of it is stately.
It’s a strange thing, fate: had that bamboo fence not been broken through, I might well have starved to death by the roadside. How true they say, the shade of a single tree. (working translation)
Quoting the proverb “the shade of a single tree” (an old saying about the bonds fate happens to weave), the cat recounts its own survival as though delivering a life lesson. Recalling a stray kitten’s brush with death, footnoted with a proverb, is itself what draws the laugh.
Assessing humans — from above
The cat consistently positions itself as an observer and evaluator of the humans who took it in (its owner’s family).
The longer I live among humans and observe them, the more I find myself forced to conclude that they are a selfish lot. (working translation)
“Forced to conclude” — a phrase suggesting a scholarly finding — follows some minor domestic incident. Though it is, in fact, the one being kept, the cat keeps assessing the humans from a position above them, as objects of study.
A vocabulary that spends Sino-Japanese freely
This cat’s vocabulary is thick with lofty expressions rooted in the Chinese classics — “cultivating a spirit of vast composure,” “a sense of admiration,” “furtively,” “haughtily,” “insolent to all around him.” Even observing an unowned black cat from the neighborhood (examined in detail in article 3), it assesses him this way:
He possesses a magnificent build, one might almost call him the great king among cats. (working translation)
“Great king among cats,” “a magnificent build” — describing a mere stray tomcat with the language one might use to describe royalty. This very choice of vocabulary is what produces the unbridgeable gap between the words and the creature speaking them.
Worth checking as you read
First, this article has not verified how contemporary readers actually received the choice of the pronoun “wagahai.” For today’s reader, “wagahai” has settled — partly because of this very novel’s influence — into a word with a distinctly comic ring, but how it was actually used and positioned socially in the Meiji era would require separate research.
Second, the vocabulary confirmed in this article is all drawn from the novel’s opening section; this article has not verified whether it appears at the same density throughout the whole work.
Summary
| Point | Content |
|---|---|
| First person | “Wagahai” — a grandiose pronoun used toward an equal or inferior |
| Narrating its origins | A pitiable experience, recounted stately, footnoted with proverbs |
| Assessing humans | Though kept by them, it keeps assessing humans from a position above |
| Vocabulary | Lofty Sino-Japanese expressions like “vast composure” and “haughtily,” used freely |
In short — this cat’s pronoun “wagahai” and its Sino-Japanese-laced vocabulary produce an unbridgeable gap with the lowly creature speaking them, and that gap forms the foundation of the novel’s comedy.