Watching Love Through a Prism on Netflix, I had a moment. The English characters start talking about Japan like it’s one giant mash-up of samurai, mysterious traditions, strange foods, and vaguely whispered “Eastern” intrigue, and your modern brain immediately goes:
Oh dear. Here we go.
Because from a 2026 perspective, it feels wildly stereotypical.
But here’s the uncomfortable historical truth: that portrayal is actually pretty accurate. Not because those stereotypes were true, obviously, but because that genuinely is how many British people in the Edwardian era viewed Japan.
So if you were side-eyeing the dialogue and wondering whether the show was being lazy… history graduate Rebecca has entered the chat.
First: when is Love Through a Prismactually set?
Netflix places the series in early 1900s London, which puts it squarely in the Edwardian era (or right on its doorstep).
That matters, because Britain’s relationship with Japan at this point was… complicated. Japan had recently emerged from centuries of relative isolation and had become increasingly visible to the West following the reopening of trade in the nineteenth century.
By 1902, Britain and Japan had signed the Anglo-Japanese Alliance, making Japan a significant political ally. Then in 1905, Japan defeated Russia in the Russo-Japanese War. And Europe collectively went:
Wait. What?
Because for many Western observers, the assumption had long been that European powers would naturally dominate. Japan winning shattered a lot of arrogant expectations. So Britain was suddenly fascinated by Japan.
Unfortunately, fascination and understanding are not the same thing.
“Were British people really that weird about Japan?”
In short? Yes.
Edwardian Britain had a habit of flattening entire cultures into digestible little stereotypes. India became elephants, maharajahs and mysticism. China became opium dens and inscrutable sages. The Middle East became endless desert fantasy.
And Japan?
Japan became elegant women in silk, samurai warriors, strange food, ritual, discipline, and mystery.Not because ordinary Japanese life actually looked like that, but because exoticism sold. This was also the age of Japonisme, when Europe became obsessed with Japanese art, design, prints, fashion and decorative aesthetics.
Japanese culture was admired, but often in the same way people admire a beautifully curated museum exhibit rather than a living, evolving society.
The samurai obsession? Weirdly believable.
One of the most eye-roll inducing parts of these portrayals is when everyone seems to assume Japan equals samurai.
But historically? That tracks. The samurai class had effectively been abolished in the late nineteenth century during the Meiji Restoration. So by the time Love Through a Prism is set, samurai were already history.
But that did not stop Western imagination. Because Western audiences love historical shorthand. It would be like someone in 2026 assuming Britain is entirely made up of chimney sweeps, strict governesses, and men dramatically saying “good heavens.”
Ridiculous? Yes.
Historically realistic? Also yes.
The food stereotypes were also painfully accurate
The references to raw fish and unfamiliar foods feel cartoonish now, but Edwardian Britain was not exactly known for adventurous international dining.
Foreign cuisine was often treated with suspicion, fascination, or outright disgust. So yes, a British character acting scandalised that Japanese people might eat eel or raw fish is historically believable. That says far more about British attitudes than Japanese food.
What about the ninja thing?
This is where things get a little wobblier.
Historical ninja absolutely existed. But the modern obsession with ninja as a pop culture shorthand for Japan feels much more recent. An Edwardian British person being fascinated by samurai? Very plausible. An average Edwardian British person constantly bringing up ninjas? Less convincing.
That feels more like modern audiences projecting backwards.
So was Love Through a Prismbeing offensive?
That depends on how you read it.
If the show were simply repeating those stereotypes as truth, that would be one thing. But because the series is consciously set in Edwardian Britain, there’s a strong argument that it’s deliberately portraying the kind of shallow exoticism Japanese people may actually have encountered in London at the time.
Which makes those uncomfortable moments less “bad writing” and more “historically awkward realism.” History is often embarrassing.
That’s part of what makes it interesting. And it’s also how we learn. Remember that thing you did at 15 that you sometimes cringe about at night but that you ultimately learnt from? That is basically all of history.
Final thoughts
So if you found yourself watching Love Through a Prism and wondering whether the English characters were absurdly stereotypical…
Yes. They were. And that’s exactly what makes it historically believable. Sometimes period drama doesn’t invent prejudice. It just recreates it. The fact that we find it uncomfy is actually positive confirmation that we have indeed already cringed and learnt how to move forward in a better way.
