Below is a translation of an Imperial Japanese news article from the Keijō Nippo (京城日報), dated March 5, 1945, reporting on the café, bar, restaurant, and brothel scene in Seoul during wartime Japan's final months.
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| Original caption: "Shoes tightly packed into a restaurant’s entrance shoe rack" |
As Japan’s war effort was collapsing and ordinary Koreans were suffering under brutal rationing and forced labor, this newspaper published what appears to be a belated and bitter acknowledgment of what most people already knew: the cafés, bars, restaurants, and brothels in Seoul were thriving—illegally and opulently—serving the colonial elite. Apparently, the elite customers would typically bring their own food and drinks for the establishment to prepare and serve, and book the entire place for themselves to ensure privacy. The customers would be served by waitresses who acted more like hostesses at hostess clubs, where beautifully dressed women would entertain guests with conversation and drinks and also play musical instruments like traditional changgo (장구) drums or shamisen.
The article complains about how kappō restaurants and so-called “public comfort” establishments had, in reality, reverted back to luxury entertainment venues. Senior waitresses (nakai) were earning five times their prewar income through enormous tips, openly catering to clients who could pay. These clients were powerful and well-connected Japanese people and Korean collaborators who still enjoyed privilege and access, even as bombs fell and food shortages worsened. Even the wartime attire regulations did not really apply to the elite - while ordinary Korean women were being punished for wearing chima skirts, elite Korean women could apparently still openly wear them within these exclusive establishments.
While common people faced deprivation and police surveillance, a privileged few continued to drink, be entertained, visit brothels in the Shinchō red light district, and enjoy “business meetings” in private rooms. This article, written in a moralizing tone presumably to shame the powerful clients as well as the proprietors of the establishments, inadvertently exposes the double standard and severe social inequality of wartime colonial society.
This article also includes some interesting statistics breaking down the ethnicities of the proprietors of the different entertainment establishments. Apparently, a disproportionately large number of the proprietors of these establishments were ethnic Japanese, even though they made up only about 3% of the population of Korea at the time.
[Translation]
Gyeongseong Ilbo (Keijō Nippo) March 5, 1945
Sunday Paper Investigation
"The Proliferation of Business Meetings at Kappō Restaurants"
"Waitresses Driven by Tips"
It has now been exactly one year—five days ago—that high-class entertainment establishments were banished from the streets of the home front fighting for victory. This anniversary provides a fitting opportunity to reflect on how the year of wartime austerity unfolded and to subject the current state of affairs to renewed scrutiny as the ferocity of battle intensifies.
．．．◇．．．
On March 5, 1942, the government enforced the suspension of high-end restaurants in order to directly bolster military strength. As a result, 24 restaurants run by Japanese, 8 run by Koreans, and 6 run by Chinese in Seoul, along with 15 Japanese-run cafés and bars, 22 Korean-run ones, and 25 other entertainment venues such as billiard halls, were all ordered to change direction in the face of the enemy in the name of certain victory, without objection or exception.
In their place, a new type of establishment emerged: kappō restaurants (traditional Japanese eateries) aimed at providing comfort for the general public. Nine of these were opened by Japanese proprietors, and four by Koreans. Among them, two or three eventually converted into brothels (kashizashiki), but overall, high-class entertainment had ostensibly disappeared from the streets.
However, some individuals could not entirely purge the “enemy within the heart” lurking in society’s shadows, and ended up turning these public comfort-oriented kappō restaurants right back into the kind of exclusive fine dining establishments they were meant to replace. One welcome change brought about by emergency measures was the disappearance of the word “banquet” (enkai). In its place, however, “business meetings” (uchiawasekai) and “conferences” (kondankai) began to dominate these restaurants without any scheduling or moderation, to the point that full-house signs and being turned away at the door became commonplace.
Let us now examine this constant full-house status by comparing revenue statistics from the 1943 and 1944 fiscal years.
In fiscal year 1943 (prior to emergency measures), the combined revenue of 75 restaurants, cafés, and bars totaled 42,881,028 yen. In fiscal year 1944, despite having only 10 restaurants and a dozen or so eateries still operating, the total revenue still reached 36,897,302 yen and 16 sen (through March). The decline is a mere six million yen. When compared with the sharp decrease in the number of establishments, it becomes crystal clear how insufficient the public restraint on pleasure-seeking truly is. One cannot help but question the sincerity of these emergency measures. Has high-class entertainment really been relinquished? It makes one want to stand at the entrance of a kappō restaurant and ask the question aloud.
The fault lies with both the proprietors and the waitresses (nakai). The proprietors exploit wartime shortages by requiring customers to bring their own food and drink—if not, they are told, “Sorry, there is no sake,” with a clearly suggestive tone. As for the waitresses, the solemn vows they made last spring to change their ways have apparently vanished. Although they may wear monpe (work pants for women) instead of traditional chima or kimono, in some places even that is prohibited by the proprietors. Instead, the waitresses appear in garish makeup, attend guests at their tables, and in the most outrageous cases—though not beating changgo drums or playing shamisen—they sing and drink with customers. At that point, they are no longer barely-tolerated “carrying women” (hakobionna); they are simply hostesses. One is left with no choice but to cry out, “Is this really acceptable?”
These waitresses will not even glance at a ten or twenty yen tip. As a result, their service to customers is shockingly unfriendly and indifferent.
In light of this, it would be wise for remaining proprietors and waitresses to reconsider their stance in comparison to those who resolutely exited the industry. At this rate, one could say they are greedily making up for the income of their retired peers. We have already seen the revenue figures for proprietors, but what of the waitresses' earnings? While it varies from person to person, even the lowest earners are said to bring in 1,200 to 1,300 yen per month, and many exceed 2,000 yen. This is a remarkable income—easily five times what they used to make before. It is not wrong to earn money, but the approach should be one of sincere hospitality toward all customers.
Let us now consider the cafés that converted into eateries. These too become overcrowded by 5:30 p.m., with lines out the door. The proprietors charge exorbitantly, and the waitresses are unfriendly and lack even the slightest charm.
What is even more frustrating is the situation with the brothels (kashizashiki). In fiscal year 1943 (before emergency measures), they reported a revenue of 5,281,873 yen and 38 sen, but in fiscal year 1944 (through February), this skyrocketed to 7,813,880 yen and 91 sen—and this is only for the Shinchō district.
At this point, one is left speechless. Can anyone still claim that the night streets have exercised restraint? We must rethink this. The enemy is already closing in on our doorstep. It is fine to drink, but let us do so within reason, as befits citizens of a nation at war. Let today mark a sincere new beginning.
Now, as for the reality on the ground for business owners, it is—as seen above—far from commendable. But what about the customers? Half the blame for this situation lies with them. Among government offices, controlled corporations, and other circles, are there not some who sweat nervously when reflecting on this past year of supposed restraint?
[Photo caption: Shoes tightly packed into a restaurant’s entrance shoe rack]
[Transcription]
京城日報 1945年3月5日
日曜紙上査察
割烹に打合会氾濫
チップで動く仲居達戦う銃後の街から高級享楽面を追放して早やきょう五日で満一年になった。そこで非常措置の精進一年が如何に送られたかを振り返って見、戦いの烈しさがその度を加えて来る今日の再批判の資としよう。
．．．◇．．．
昭和十七年三月五日政府は直接戦力の増強へ高級料理屋の休業を断行した。これで京城府内の料理屋内地人側二十四軒、半島人側八軒、中華人側六軒にカフェー、バー内地人側十五軒、半島人側二十二軒、その他玉突などの享楽場二十五軒が必勝目指して理窟抜きに敵前転進をした。そこで新たに店開きしたのが大衆の慰安場として登場した割烹店で内地人側が九軒に半島人側が四軒である。そのうちには貸座敷に転業したのも二、三軒はあるが、これで一応は高級享楽が街から返上された。
だが一部人には未だに片隅に巣くった『心の敵』を追放し切れなくて大衆の慰安場であるべき割烹店を昔に変らぬ高級料理店にして了った向がある。非常措置後嬉しいことには宴会という名は聞こえなくなった。その代り、打合会に懇談会がこの割烹店を占めて計画なしにひょっこり行っては満員の札止めで玄関払いが常識となった。ではこの連日満員の盛況振りを十八年度と十九年度の水揚高から見よう。
十八年度非常措置前料理屋、カフェー、バーをひっくるめた七五軒の水揚げが四千二百八十八万一千二十八円であるのに十九年度料理屋十軒、食堂十数軒の水揚げが三千六百八十九万七千三百二円十六銭（これは三月分迄）となっている。減少は僅か六百万円。しかも料理店の減っていることとにらみ合わせれば如何に享楽面の自粛が足らないのかはっきりと判る。これでは何の非常措置であり、何処に享楽返上をしているか。割烹店の玄関に立って訊いて見たくなる。
これは業者と仲居だが、業者は物資不足につけ込んで価も物も客の持込みでなければ『酒がありませんがね～』と暗に断り仲居達は昨年の春転進を誓った決意は何処へやらチマや和服の代りにモンペは履いたもののーいや中には店主が仲居にモンペを穿くことを禁じている店すらある。そのけばけばしいお化粧で席にはべり、甚だしいのはチャンゴではないが、三味線は引かぬが、酒を飲み唄っているのがある。これでは辛うじて残存を許された運び女ではなかろう。これでよいのかと叫びたくなるではないか。仲居のチップも十円や二十円じゃ鼻も向けず、自然客の応接に不親切極まるものがある。
これでは残存業者や仲居達は同業者が同輩が雄々しく転業したことを考え直してみるべきだ。現状からすれば転廃業したものの分まで稼ぐのだという感がないともいわれまい。業者は水揚げで判ったが、仲居の収入は？各人異なる訳だが、月に最小千二、三百円から二千円を越すのだという。大した新興所得で従前の五倍は優に稼ぐ訳だ。稼ぐのが悪いとはいわない。どの客にも一卒的な親切心で行こうというのである。
次はカフェー転向の食堂だがここも五時半になれば超満員の上列だ。業者はボル上女給は不親切で愛想もなんにもない。なお腹ただしいのは貸座敷街で措置前の十八年度は水揚げが五百二十八万一千八百七十三円三十八銭であったのが十九年度は（二月分迄）七百八十一万三千八百八十円九十一銭にはねあがっている（以上新町分のみの統計）。
これまで来ると、ただ呆然として言うこともない。これで夜の町は果して自粛せりと言える者があるだろうか。今一度ほんとに考えよう。敵はもう我々の身辺に迫っているのだ。飲むのもよいが戦う国民の分を過ぎないように心を引締めてきょうからは真に再出発しよう。
ところで業者の実態は以上の通りまことに香しくないが、客の方はどうか。業者のこのようにした罪の半ばは客の方にある。官庁、統制会社その他の方面に、自粛一年をふりかえって、そっとわきの下に汗する向きはありませんか【写真＝料理屋の下駄箱にぎっしりならんだ靴】
Source: National Library of Korea, Digital Newspaper Archive
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