Japanese Political Theatre in the 18th Century : Bunraku Puppet Plays in Social Context 9780429622151, 0429622155, 9780429054761, 0429054769

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Japanese Political Theatre in the 18th Century

Bunraku has fascinated theatre practitioners through its particular forms of staging, such as highly elaborated manipulation of puppets and exquisite coordination of chanters and shamisen players. However, bunraku lacks scholarship dedicated to translating not only the language but also cultural barriers of this work. In this book, Odanaka and Iwai tackle the wealth of bunraku plays underrepresented in English through reexamining their significance on a global scale. Little is written on the fact that bunraku theatre, despite its elegant figures of puppets and exotic stories, was often made as a place to manifest the political concerns of playwrights in the 18th century, hence a reflection of the audience’s expectation that could not have materialized outside the theatre. Japanese Political Theatre in the 18th Century aims to make bunraku texts readable for those who are interested in the political and cultural implications of this revered theatre tradition. Akihiro Odanaka is Professor of Cultural Resources at the Graduate School of Literature and Human Sciences of Osaka City University, Japan. His research covers a wide range of fields, such as modern French theatre, the history of Western theatre, comparative theatre between Western and Japanese works, and the study of culture and representation. He is the author of the award-winning book The Layers of the Modern Theatre (Gendai engeki no chisō), which was awarded the 43rd Kawatake prize from the Japanese Society for Theatre Research. Masami Iwai has been Professor in the Faculty of Foreign Studies, Meijo University (Nagoya City), Japan, since 2016. He specializes in historiography of Japanese traditional theatre from the 17th to the 20th centuries concerning kabuki, bunraku, and other performing arts. Besides his encyclopedic knowledge of Japanese theatre, he has been interested in contemporary British theatre and has translated three plays by Patrick Marber into Japanese: Dealer’s Choice, Closer, and Howard Katz. Since 2010, he has been working on a joint research project with Dr. Odanaka.

Routledge Advances in Theatre & Performance Studies

Alimentary Performances Mimesis, Theatricality, and Cuisine Kristin Hunt Closet Drama History, Theory, Form Edited by Catherine Burroughs Contemporary Group Theatre in Kolkata, India Arnab Banerji Skateboarding and Femininity Gender, Space-making and Expressive Movement Dani Abulhawa Dynamic Cartography Body, Architecture, and Performative Space Maria Jose Martinez Sanchez Situated Knowing Epistemic Perspectives on Performance Edited by Ewa Bal and Mateusz Chaberski Japanese Political Theatre in the 18th Century Bunraku Puppet Plays in Social Context Akihiro Odanaka and Masami Iwai Aotearoa New Zealand in the Global Theatre Marketplace James Wenley For more information about this series, please visit: www.routledge.com/​ Routledge-​Advances-​in-​Theatre-​-​Performance-​Studies/​book-​series/​RATPS

Japanese Political Theatre in the 18th Century Bunraku Puppet Plays in Social Context Akihiro Odanaka and Masami Iwai

First published 2021 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 52 Vanderbilt Avenue, New York, NY 10017 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2021 Akihiro Odanaka and Masami Iwai The right of Akihiro Odanaka and Masami Iwai to be identified as authors of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing-​in-​Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-​in-​Publication Data A catalog record has been requested for this book ISBN: 978-0-367-15062-4 (hbk) ISBN: 978-0-429-05476-1 (ebk) Typeset in Times New Roman by Newgen Publishing UK

To my daughter, Mai (Akihiro Odanaka) To the memory of my father, Hiromi (Masami Iwai)

Contents

List of figures  Acknowledgements  Conventions  Preface  Introduction 

ix x xii xv 1

1 The dramaturgy of bunraku 

17

2 The Battles of Coxinga: the self-​image of early modern Japan 

38

3 A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman: echoes of a shadowy domain 

59

4 Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy: the Emperor and the stability of society 

81

5 Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees: re-​appropriating history 

101

6 The Treasury of Loyal Retainers: money can buy you loyalty 

120

7 The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province: the Osaka people are indomitable! 

146

8 Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women: eros and politics 

167

viii Contents

9 Travel Game while Crossing Iga: individuality on the margin of society 

187

Conclusion 

207

Appendix: periodization of the history of Japan and its major geographical traits  Index 

214 218

Figures

0 .1 Map of Osaka in the late 17th century 1.1 The bunraku stage in 1765 2.1 Dutch delegate watching karakuri (mechanically devised) bunraku stage in the late 18th century 3.1 Separation of Kuzunoha from her child (scene from A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman) 4.1 Revengeful spirit of Michizane 5.1 Tomomori/​Ginpei’s desperate fight against destiny (scene from Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees) 6.1 Lord of En’ya’s seppuku (scene from The Treasury of Loyal Retainers) 7.1 Siege of Osaka 8.1 Act of The Mountains (scene from Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women) 9.1 Dan of Numazu (scene from Travel Game while Crossing Iga) A.1 Map of Japan

4 21 41 63 85 113 133 148 173 199 216

Acknowledgements

This work is the fruit of not only the authors’ joint survey for a decade, but also of a vast accumulation of research on bunraku theatre made by our forerunners; two names, among others, should be mentioned with our gratitude: Torigoe Bunzō and Uchiyama Mikiko,1 both of whom are professors emeritus of Waseda University. Professor Torigoe has amply provided generous support for those interested in traditional theatre, especially in relation to his efforts to establish a philological study of bunraku and kabuki pieces. His encouragement extended to scholars and students coming from abroad, among whom included Donald Keene, a great pioneer in introducing Japanese literature and theatre to English readers. Professor Uchiyama, in her turn, brought a new horizon for bunraku understanding through her monumental The 18th Century in the History of Bunraku (Jōruri-​shi no jūhasseiki) in which she opened up the possibility of studying the political implications in bunraku. We feel deeply indebted to their achievements. C. Andrew Gerstle and Alan Cummings of SOAS University of London, two leading scholars of the Japanese traditional theatres in English-​speaking countries, gave us their valuable comments on our first draft. Professor Gerstle, whose expertise in the musicality of bunraku is widely recognized, gave us insights in reconsidering the thematic aspects of bunraku pieces. Dr. Cummings provides us with his generous advice in correcting defects in our discussion. We are also indebted to Professor Bonaventura Ruperti of the University of Venice, whose remarks were truly valuable to reviewing our writing. We consider the present work to be found in the tradition of Japanese theatre studies as pioneered by Tsubouchi Shōyō (1859–​ 1935), who first translated all of Shakespeare’s plays into Japanese language, while keeping an immense love for kabuki. He was followed by one of his disciples, Kawatake Shigetoshi (1889–​1967), a grandson-​in-​law of the great kabuki playwright Kawatake Mokuami (1816–​1893). Kawatake Shigetoshi established the study of Japanese theatre, albeit his background in English theatre. The tradition was succeeded by his son Kawatake Toshio (1924–​2013) − much like the mastership of acting was inherited by the lineage of kabuki actors − who introduced in Japan the discipline of comparative theatre.

Acknowledgements  xi We thus follow their spirit in conducting theatre studies in a global perspective; different from these intellectual giants, however, we make a joint study, “collaborer un peu tes lèvres et mes phrases” (Cyrano de Bergerac),2 simply because we lack their encyclopedic knowledge. We express a profound respect for them. We also thank Namigata Riyo who did not spare efforts to make our non-​ native English precise and to the point; Riyo’s devotion as a professional English proofreader was essential to our project. Finally, our obligation goes to Laura Hussey, who first took notice of our abstract presented at the International Conference of Theatre Studies in Belgrade and subsequently proposed that we write the present book. She is indeed a muse who inspired our ideas and thoughts to take shape.

Notes 1 As we note in the conventions, Japanese names are given by a surname followed by a given name. 2 “wed into one my phrases and your lips,” Cyrano de Bergerac, Act II, Scene X, translated from French by Gladys Thomas and Mary F. Guillemard, The Project Gutenberg.

Conventions

We follow the Hepburn romanization for transliterating the Japanese, using macrons to indicate long vowels, exceptions being made, however, for commonly known Japanese city names such as Tokyo and Kyoto. It must be noted, for those who are not familiar with the Japanese language, that each Japanese vowel (which consists of only five vowels: a, e, i, o, u) is independently pronounced like sake (sa-​ké: Japanese rice wine) in much the same way as in the Italian language. In some cases, we adopt the revised Hepburn system to accentuate the separation of phonemes like in the case of Yori’ie (which is pronounced as yo-​ri-​ié). Japanese names including those of historical figures are given in the Japanese order such as Tokugawa (family name) Ieyasu (given name). The same principle is applied to Chinese and Korean names. For the main body of the arguments, we place a brief summary at the top of each chapter for fear that readers might be lost in the maze of discussions about political and social backgrounds associated with theatrical activities, for such preliminary remarks are indispensable to treating plays developed in the Japanese cultural and historical tradition. We also invite readers to refer to the Appendix for an overview of the periodization in Japanese history and the geography related to the present work. Concerning the bibliography, most of the works cited in the book are written in Japanese, but simply listing the alphabetical transcriptions of these titles would make no sense to non-​Japanese readers. To avoid this, we accord (possible) English translations for each title in the hopes that readers may understand at least the subject matter of the books and articles listed. As for translations of Japanese play titles, in principle, we use existing English translations for titles that have been translated into English. We also refer to Play Title Translations made by Samuel L.  Leiter in his Historical Dictionary of Japanese Traditional Theatre as well as The Oxford Companion to Theatre & Performance (articles about Japanese theatre contributed by C. Andrew Gerstle). When we adopt a different translation from these sources,

Conventions  xiii we indicate this in the footnotes. For minor works, the title translations are ours, but for some pieces we find rendering English titles practically impossible and leave them with the Japanese transcription. Abbreviation used in the footnotes are as follows: CZ Chikamatsu zenshū (Complete Works of Chikamatsu) HD Historical Dictionary of Japanese Traditional Theatre OC The Oxford Companion to Theatre & Performance

Preface

The present book is written for readers who have a fresh and growing interest in the Japanese traditional puppet theatre now generally called bunraku, but who feel it difficult to enter into its microcosm, as well as those who are interested in updating their knowledge on this particular theatre with a more comprehensive view. Bunraku, with its highly sophisticated manipulation of puppets nearly five foot high, accompanied by the music of the shamisen and the narration of chanters, stands without doubt among the highest achievements of its genre in global theatre. One of the main attractions of bunraku lies in its freedom in constructing a theatrical world, sharply opposed to the pursuit of conventional illusion in Western theatre. The main puppets are animated by three puppeteers dressed in black costumes, covering their heads. Some of them (the skilled masters) do not hesitate to expose their faces –​which are definitively less expressive than those of the puppets –​as a sign of their dexterity. The chanter and shamisen player sit square on their heels on the apron stage at the front right of the audience and take charge of the play’s musical narration. This is principally undertaken as a duo, but in some scenes a group of chanters comprise the chorus or compose a dialogue. The play’s performance, however, is borne by different chanters and musicians who change places depending on the importance of the act and the performer’s ranking as a professional artist. Bunraku is therefore not concerned about hiding players behind the dramatic world. Another fascinating aspect of bunraku is that an exquisite harmony exists between the manipulation of the puppets in the center and the musical narration set to the side, even while there seems to be no direct communication between them (their relationship is not the same as that of the conductor in the pit and the actors/​singers on the stage in operas and musical plays). Puppeteers, chanters, and shamisen players synchronize with one another, but their cooperation is realized through subtle attunements of their “breath,” which has been made possible through long years of practice. We don’t intend here, however, to talk about these traits of bunraku because for one thing, they are already known to theatre amateurs through introductory books,1 and for the other, you can ascertain their tangibility by sitting in a seat at the National Bunraku Theatre in Osaka, Japan, or using the aid of

xvi Preface virtual media in our present networked world. The problem is that behind the theatrical, that is, the visible aspects of bunraku, is the sphere of the drama, or things that are narrated in Japanese that seem to refuse easy access. In this regard, too, you can certainly refer to English translations of some bunraku plays or their synopses but, masterpieces of Chikamatsu apart, you may likely be perplexed  –​not to say shocked  –​by their complicated structures. How on earth did bunraku playwrights conceive of such intricate puzzles of plots and characters? There is a considerable gap between the visual and audial pleasures offered by the bunraku stage and the incomprehensibility of its story worlds, which estranges the theatre from the modern audience. Our purpose in this book is to make “readable” the texts of bunraku plays in the 18th century. As a matter of fact, the theatre’s heyday came during the period when important history plays were being successively produced; thus, history plays constitute the major repertoire of present bunraku (and of kabuki, because the latter eagerly adapted the stages of the former). However, as mentioned, their world is by no means intelligible to those accustomed to the modern (and Western) idea that a dramatic piece needs consistency. Bunraku history plays born during the Japanese early modern period are alien to such notion. It does not mean that they are incongruous or absurd; they are built on a dramaturgy of their own, which can be rendered comprehensible to readers by introducing a certain perspective. This viewpoint, which we establish here, involves seeing these plays in light of the political horizons thereof. What is not well known is that bunraku theatre, despite its aspect as popular entertainment, was often a place for playwrights to manifest their political concerns. It was hence a reflection of the audience’s expectations that could not have materialized outside the theatre. More consistent and persuasive interpretations of bunraku plays can thus be presented by focusing on the sociopolitical context from which the audience’s collective desire or fantasy was concretized as a form of theatre. As a matter of fact, Japan from the 17th to mid-​19th centuries was not a stagnant, sleeping country isolated in the Far East. The sovereignty of the warriors (samurai) was being eroded by degrees through the rising economic power of the merchants, while the samurai were also becoming alienated from real politics. Power and money, two dominant factors in the modern world, were also the reality of 18th-​century Japan, which paved the way to its rapid industrial and imperialistic development in the latter half of the next century. Under these circumstances, contemporary political concerns were dramatized under the pretext of stories belonging to the past (for fear of censorship), while central events in the drama were more or less motivated by the economic situations of the characters, in other words the major concerns of the contemporary audience. Even revenge, a matter of honor for the samurai, was tainted by pecuniary problems in its dramatized versions in bunraku, which could provide an interesting comparison between bunraku revenge plays and plays like The Merchant of Venice that also treat rising capitalism and political discrimination.2 We hope that our book will offer possibilities for

Preface  xvii comparative theatre studies, because we find in bunraku plays precursors to modern (or postmodern) dramaturgy and stage direction (since these two are merged in bunraku) regarding how to recount history and politics in theatre. For that purpose, we will discuss eight bunraku plays from the 18th century. Not only are they relevant to our problematics, but also English translations are available for most of the selected plays for the sake of avid readers who may desire access to these plays. The Battles of Coxinga and The Treasury of Loyal Retainers can be read in English owing to the pioneer works of Donald Keene. The devotion of Stanleigh H.  Jones realized the translation of the following five pieces: Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy, Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees, Vengeance at Iga Pass, Mount Imo and Mount Se, and The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province. Of these, the latter two are abridged translations of only the major acts. Only one of the plays, A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman, lacks an English translation. A translation of the kabuki version exists, although it only provides an abridged form of the most important act. Finally, we must spare some words to the treatment of Japanese proper names in the book. It goes without saying that proper names are untranslatable from one language into another, and in this sense they constitute singular points in the universe of communication, having histories and implications valid only in its own culture. Besides, the Japanese are largely dependent on the written language, as if to follow Jacques Derrida’s notion of écriture (writing) criticizing speech-​ centered Western civilizations. Consequently, phonetic transcriptions of Japanese proper names  –​especially those appearing in bunraku history plays –​into the alphabet risk not only amplifying the impression of inaccessibility but also simply tiring out the readers:  the difference between Yoshitsune and Yoshimune is clear to the Japanese because they are visually distinct in Chinese ideograms (one of the three major writing systems in Japanese), much like the distinction between rice and lice for native English speakers. The book consequently minimizes the appearance of proper names, at the risk of giving a more or less abridged explanation of a given dramatic situation or history. When the same proper names appear in different contexts, we intentionally adopt redundant modifiers such as “the first Shogun Ieyasu” in place of simply referring to his name. The same procedure is applied to the names of places and periods in history lest they should seem abstract points in space and time for those who are alien to Japanese culture. The circumspection will disappear by degrees –​so we conceived –​as readers enter into the world of bunraku following the development of the chapters. Let us mention two more notes regarding the terminology:  bunraku and samurai. The use of the word bunraku in this book is, strictly speaking, anachronistic because the word “bunraku” was only first used in reference to the traditional ningyō jōruri puppet theatre performed at the bunraku-​za established in Osaka in the early 19th century. What we refer to here by the term “bunraku” is the Japanese puppet theatre (ningyō jōruri) developed in

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xviii Preface Osaka from the late 17th century onward.3 As for samurai, it generally means Japanese warriors who first appeared around the 10th century. However, while their activities as well as their spirit changed throughout the ages, “samurai” has adopted a specific connotation of Japaneseness since the late 19th century. We therefore use the word with discretion, assuming that it corresponds to the Japanese word bushi, which means “warriors.”4

Notes 1 See, for example, Jonah Salz (2016), Donald Keene (1990), C.  Andrew Gerstle (1986), and Barbara Adachi (1978). 2 For a tentative study of such a comparison, see Odanaka Akihiro (2015). 3 As a matter of fact, ningyō jōruri puppet theatre developed not only in Osaka, but also in Edo (known today as Tokyo) in the 17th century. However, it was in Osaka that Takemoto Gidayū, a great chanter, and Chikamatsu Monzaemon, a prominent playwright, renovated the puppet theatre in the late 17th century. Important plays since their age have all been staged in the city of Osaka. Consequently, we focus on ningyō jōruri in Osaka in the present discussion. 4 The idea that the qualities of the samurai (bushi) have remained unchanged through the ages has been severely criticized by recent scholars. See, for example, Takahashi Masaaki (2018) and Oleg Benesch (2014).

Bibliography Adachi, Barbara. 1978. The Voices and Hands of Bunraku. Tokyo: Kōdansha. Benesch, Oleg. 2014. Inventing the Way of the Samurai: Nationalism, Internationalism, and Bushidō in Modern Japan. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Gerstle, C. Andrew. 1986. Circles of Fantasy: Convention in the Plays of Chikamatsu. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Keene, Donald. 1990. Nō and Bunraku: Two Forms of Japanese Theatre. New York: Columbia University Press. Odanaka Akihiro. 2015. “Revenge and the Marketplace:  A Study of Chikamatsu Hanji’s Travel Game while Crossing Iga.” Comparative Theatre Review (online journal) 14, no. 1 (English Issue): 17–​28. Available as e-​text: www.jstage.jst.go.jp/​ article/​ctr/​14/​1/​14_​2/​_​pdf. Salz, Jonah, ed. 2016. A History of Japanese Theatre. Cambridge:  Cambridge University Press. Takahashi Masaaki. 2018. Bushi no nihonshi [Japanese History of Bushi]. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten.

Introduction

How were bunraku history plays created in respect to the commoners’ claim of their world view? In the mid-​18th century, the Shogun Yoshimune’s rule was faced with difficulties, as the government’s finances were predominated by Osaka merchants. The city of Osaka was in fact the nation’s economic center. And this was the reason why the city, remote from the capital, produced not only wealth but also cultural prosperity, including the heyday of bunraku puppet theatre.

Osaka in 1748: the “city” of Japan In 1748, the Qianlong Emperor of the Qing dynasty in China reached the 13th year of his reign. Aged 37, he was ambitious enough to dispatch his generals to the outer regions of the empire to launch ten consecutive campaigns, lasting for the 60  years of his rule, to win the largest portion of territory that China had ever controlled. China was at the height of its prosperity. In Europe, the Treaty of Aix-​la-​Chapelle had temporarily punctuated the conflicts between Louis XV of France and Maria Theresa of the Habsburg Monarchy; in North America and in India, France and Britain were colonial rivals. Future historians, however, would see this period as having been more or less peaceful because it involved only limited warfare between monarchs. In the world of the theatre, David Garrick, known for his portrayal as Richard III, had become the manager of the Drury Lane Theatre the previous year. In France in 1755, Lekain impersonates Genghis Khan in Voltaire’s L’Orphelin de la Chine (The Orphan of China). In Japan, the retired Shogun Yoshimune (1684–​1751) was in the final years of his life. Since taking on the role of Tycoon of Japan in 1716, he had acted as a reformer. The shogunate, despite managing to keep the public peace, had proven itself unable to manage the finances of its rulers and samurai during the 100  years since it had established sovereignty. As the eighth shogun, Yoshimune’s main concern was money (or rice  –​as discussed below, these were equivalent). He devoted himself to restoring shogunal governance by introducing a series of monetary controls. However, the country’s economic activities could not be fully controlled from Edo, where the shogun was based,

2 Introduction because they were largely determined by influential merchants in Osaka, some 300 miles west of the capital. How did this discrepancy come about? The Japanese economy was built on a double standard:  at face value, the rulers’ revenues were measured by the taxable output of rice in their territories. Rice determined their economic power –​and also their military power, as the number of mobilized warriors was counted using affordable rations of rice. This system of evaluating the power of a feudal lord (daimyō) through rice production was rooted in the medieval tradition and fixed by the Tokugawa shogunate as a lex terrae: rice is money. The shogunal household (i.e., the central government) was said to have 4,000,000 koku (roughly 20,000,000 bushels) of rice revenue, while the Kaga domain, the largest feudal state in the regime, accounted for 1,000,000 koku of rice. However, the shogun and feudal lords needed hard currency to purchase goods other than rice –​their shopping lists became diversified as the wealth of the nation grew –​and, for that purpose, they sold rice in various markets. Their problem was that the exchange rates for rice could not be fixed because it was affected by market prices, just as currencies fluctuate in today’s floating exchange rate system. Osaka, rather than Edo (which is known today as Tokyo), functioned as the central market because it was only 20 miles from Kyoto and well located to distribute merchandise nationwide; by contrast, the capital of Edo was newly established at the beginning of the 17th century. It had not yet matured into a national economic center, even by the first half of the following century. Osaka lies at the east end of the Seto Inland Sea; offshore to the west is a relatively large island, Awaji-​shima, approximately the size of Singapore. This geography enables ships to pass to the western part of the sea through a narrow strait. The southern strait leading to the Pacific Ocean narrows between the island and a protruding cape. These barriers constitute the lake-​like Osaka Bay, which protects the city and its surrounding areas from typhoons, which are relatively common in Japan. Historically, the region also served as the outer harbor of Nara and Kyoto, two ancient capitals of Japan, welcoming ships from Korea and China as far back as the 7th century. In the 16th century, Portuguese ships also came to the nearby port of Sakai. If the construction of Osaka slowed down in the 16th century, it was due to the long civil war, which raged from the late 15th to the 16th centuries and prevented the use of civil engineering for flood control. Japan had large areas of undeveloped wetland with uncontrollable river flows up to the early 17th century. The advent of peace (the unification of the country by Toyotomi Hideyoshi, consolidated by the Tokugawa shogunate) made it possible to transfer military engineers, who had made remarkable progress during the war, to the embankment, where they reclaimed land for growing rice as well as urban construction. The cultivable area of rice is estimated to have doubled during the 17th century, while the population of the whole country increased threefold during the same period.1 This was a period of high economic growth.

Introduction  3 The city of Osaka was intrinsically related to rivers; not only was it connected to Kyoto by rivers, but also their estuaries were crowded with ships traveling through the Inland Sea toward the commercial center. Ships came from western and northern Japanese ports including Nagasaki, which was the only harbor authorized to receive international trade from China and Holland. Feudal lords sent rice by ship to Osaka. The rice was then exchanged, via money, for various commodities, which were sent by maritime transportation to Edo, the greatest center of consumption in the feudal regime. Osaka had a population of about 400,000,2 much smaller than that of the capital (estimated at about 1,000,000)3 or London (with a population of 630,000 in 1715),4 but larger than Amsterdam (with a population of about 240,000 in 1750).5 What distinguished Osaka from the samurais’ capital, however, was its lack of rulers; in Edo, half of the inhabitants belonged to the samurai class. This was because feudal lords (daimyō) and their retainers from remote domains were required to stay in the capital every two years,6 partly as a sign of their loyalty and partly to ensure that they spent large sums of money on travel expenses. The authorities thus made it financially difficult for lords to oppose or resist the shogun (a tactic reminiscent of Louis XIV, who summoned all important aristocrats to the château of Versailles). This system also helps to explain why feudal lords needed to sell rice in Osaka. They had to get cash to cover large expenditures on round-​trips to and social lives in the capital. The people of Osaka had no such need. The city is thought to have counted 8,000 samurai, just 2% of the total population (in addition, the warriors’ lives were segregated from that of the commoners).7 Osaka roughly consisted of three areas. The first was the political quarter, spread across the eastern hills around Osaka Castle. As the lord of the castle was a shogun who stayed in the capital, the estate was managed by his proxy, a high official who viewed his role as a stepping-​stone to a better career. The second was the commercial center, built with a regular grid of streets and canals on low-​lying land, expanding westward. The last, located in the south-​ eastern suburbs, featured Buddhist temples and Shintō shrines. These temples and shrines were not only for worship; their stalls and green trees provided the inhabitants with recreation, making the area a kind of public park. The commercial area was divided into different quarters by business categories. On the small islands of Nakanoshima and Dōjima, in the river that delimited the northern end of the city, as well as in the surrounding quarters, were the feudal lord’s densely constructed rice warehouses; they were distinguished by their white walls and black-​tiled roofs. In these facilities were found samurai from feudal domains, who came to do business with Osaka merchants, presumably more skilled in accounting than sword fights. Around these quarters were the houses of rice traders and money changers, no less splendid than the depositories. Rice traders were responsible for monetizing rice, while money changers drew bills of exchange so that feudal lords could get money in the capital without carrying cash.8 They were de facto bankers. In the course of time, rice traders and money changers bought and

4 Introduction

Figure 0.1 Map of Osaka in the late 17th century. The castle of Osaka is to the right and the commoner’s quarter to the left. Osaka Municipal Library.

sold among themselves the rice vouchers issued by feudal lords at expected future prices, based on predicted price fluctuations. If the price at which a voucher was sold in advance ended up being higher than the cost of buying rice, the voucher seller would make a profit (and vice versa); however, the risks could be hedged by making deals in the opposite direction. Thus, it was in the Dōjima quarter in 1730 that the world’s first “futures” market developed, making rice an object of speculation, while also mitigating extreme price fluctuations, as the modern theory of futures explains.9 Southward from the houses of the rice traders and bankers, and always separated by a grid of streets and canals, were the quarters of brokers and merchants of silk, cotton, drapery, pharmaceutical products, furniture, ironware, charcoal, tatami mats, vegetable oil (for lighting), leather goods, various accessories, groceries, poultry, fish, green vegetables, tea, sake, sweets, and flowers, among other products. Some of these houses have survived into the 21st century as department stores and pharmaceutical companies. There was also a market selling dried seafood for export to China, a delicacy for the

Introduction  5 Mandarins. Dried sardines, although not edible, were used as fertilizer to grow cotton in the surrounding regions because cotton, tobacco, and rapeseed (for oil) were cash crops that made more money than rice. Dried sardines were therefore collected from fishing villages nationwide and distributed to entrepreneurial farmers. In a nearby quarter, copper ore was refined by the house of Sumitomo, mainly for exporting to China and Holland. Although copper production had steeply declined at the end of the previous century, Japan remained a major producer.10 The south end of the commercial zone was separated from the suburban area by a river canalized by Yasui Dōton in the early 17th century and subsequently named the Dōtonbori River. Across the river was the Dōtonbori theatre district. Eight authorized playhouses likely existed there in 1748, among which seven were active,11 making the area into the city’s most animated entertainment district: of these, three were dedicated to puppet theatre, three for stages featuring puppets with mechanical devices (karakuri),12 and one was for kabuki.13 The situation eloquently indicates how puppet theatre prevailed over kabuki at the time, because a decade before there were three playhouses for kabuki, equaling another three for bunraku (and one for karakuri).14 Among bunraku theatres, the Takemoto-​za (za means theatre), and the Toyotake-​za had been rivals since the age of Chikamatsu Monzaemon (1653–​1725).15 Vertically, a theatre, like other Japanese buildings of the age, was limited to two stories; however, the entrance rooftop had a small wooden turret (yagura) to show that it was an authorized theatre. A drum was beaten on the turret to announce the performance of a play, like the flag atop an Elizabethan theatre. According to a study by Moriya Tekeshi, these theatres were constructed to be deep rather than wide, having a frontage of 10 ken (60 feet) and a depth of 20 ken (120 feet).16 They had a small entrance (nezumi-​kido), which allowed only one person to go through at a time, like a rat entering a dark hole. In front of the theatre, a salesperson sat at a stall selling cheap tickets for spectators in the pit. The capacity of a playhouse was flexible, ranging from several hundred to a thousand, because the audience sat in the seiza style –​ on their heels –​without the use of chairs.17 The theatre was divided into two categories: reserved sections with wooden floors large enough to hold groups of six people, located in the surrounding balconies; and an earth floor in the pit that could accommodate people without reservations. The price of a balcony box ticket was 200 mon per person, while a ticket for the pit cost 32 mon.18 One mon equaled approximately 30 yen in modern terms,19 making an upper class ticket worth 6,000 yen and a lower class ticket about 1,000 yen. Osaka was renowned for cheap theatre tickets.20 Inside the theatre, vendors were busy selling sweets, rental cushions, fire for tobacco, and programs, while spectators ate, drank, and chatted. The audience comprised two definite groups: those with refined tastes (upper class spectators) and vulgar people (lower class spectators). The former included rich merchants and their wives, and some samurai.

6 Introduction Along the south bank of the Dōtonbori River, opposite the theatres, were the theatre teahouses.21 These were for the wealthy, and they offered various comforts, such as seat reservations, tea services, meals, sake, and even baths before and during the performance. In addition, they provided a dubious “after-​sales” service, which we will discuss later. As theatregoing was a whole day’s activity during this period, these privileged spectators would embark on a boat early in the morning from a dock, using the city’s network of canals and rivers, and land directly on the teahouse docks. After resting for a while, they would be guided to the theatre by house servants. Attractions in the city were not limited to the Dōtonbori theatre district. There were other locations outside the city center in which the construction of theatres was officially permitted; however, these playhouses were mostly inactive, at least during this period.22 In addition, during rites and festivals, big temples and shrines offered venues for itinerant performers, including puppet theatre troops.23 In these precincts, acclaimed kōshakushi (histrionic narrators) also recited dramatized samurai stories. Some of the important rites and festivals themselves became entertainment, gathering many spectators with their splendid parades and street floats. One example was the Tenjin-​ matsuri festival, held in the waters around Nakano-shima island; it featured a water-​borne deity and mechanical dolls (karakuri ningyō).24 To the east of the Dōtonbori River, sumo wrestling games, supported by rich merchants, developed into a regular tournament, the popularity of which exceeded that of the capital.25 The vivacity of Osaka was supported by the townspeople, who lived in the commercial zone (around six square miles). This area was deliberately divided from other zones through the presence of rivers surrounding it on the northern, eastern, and southern boundaries (the western side faced the sea). It must be noted that the theatre quarter was found beyond the city’s southern limit, marked off by a river. In fact, both the theatre district and the pleasure quarters were driven to the periphery of the city. Despite a name that means “bad place” (akusho), these institutions were necessary to complete city life.

A floating world It would be erroneous to conclude, based on the activities of Osaka merchants, that Japan was making steady progress toward modernization. As the two-​tier system of rice and money shows, archaic and avant-​garde elements coexisted during the Japanese early modern period. The city also had a premodern appearance. Historians have argued that Japan’s large cities –​the capital as well as Osaka –​were characterized by a low birth rate throughout the 17th and the 18th centuries because they were overpopulated by men. In 1750 in Osaka, the gender disparity between men and women is thought to have been about 1.5, with many of the men working as domestic servants.26 In fact, not so many independent merchants had the opportunity to start families and their number is estimated at between 30,000 and 60,000.27 This helps to explain why

Introduction  7 brothels, authorized and unauthorized alike, were necessary in big cities. The pleasure quarters, populated by courtesans and later symbolized by the figure of the geisha, developed their own culture while entertaining the rich. At the same time, people died young. The average life span of a Japanese person in this period is estimated to have been about 36  years.28 After its remarkable development in the 17th century, Japan entered a period of low growth, maintaining the same population level. The population remained at around 30,000,000 throughout the 18th century. How was this achieved? By abortion or by killing newborn babies when farmers thought they could not be supported, thus strangely foreseeing the Malthusian population principle (although these dead babies are not included in the above average).29 If babies were lucky enough to survive and grow up but found no job or a poor job in their villages, one possible solution then was to find refuge in a city, as cities needed an incessant flow of labor from surrounding regions. Farmers could not escape massive famines caused by unstable weather and the incursion of vermin. Cities, on the other hand, were vulnerable to infectious diseases due to their dense populations, even though Japanese urban communities were perhaps the cleanest in the world in those days.30 The city also provided many opportunities for those who had not done well elsewhere, as Ihara Saikaku described in his short stories about poor people in Osaka succeeding through their talent and the accumulation of small efforts. Notwithstanding, city life did not assure longevity, especially for the poor. In this period, big cities in Japan were subject to the so-​called urban graveyard effect:  attracting and killing those who came from rural areas.31 In conjunction with the above, understanding the mentalité of the people requires another perspective on time. The people of this era did not live by the linear timeline of Christianity or modernity. The longest time span they could envision was a circle of 60 years, or the Chinese sexagenary cycle, which combines 10 universal Taoist orders with a series of 12 symbolic animals to make 60 signs that work as ordinal numbers. This 60 sign/​number system was also applied, using simplified versions of 24 or 12, to the cycles of the months, days, hours, and directions. The temporospatial cognition of the people was constructed around specific images of animals; consequently, “mouse” indicated two hours around midnight and north, while “horse” marked two hours around noon and south, for example. Needless to say, there was no notion of the week. While they used the 12-​month lunar calendar (plus an intercalary month, when necessary), they partially introduced the solar calendar to correct lags in the lunar calendar and adjust for seasonal changes. People’s annual and monthly lives were marked by particular days in the above sign/​number system. The system taught them when to hold periodic events, rites, and days of rest, like movable feasts in Christianity. The day of kōshin, for example, recurred every 60 days and signified a wake to exorcise bad spirits. Without this knowledge, it would be difficult to understand the meaning of the title of Chikamatsu’s tragedy Love Suicides on the Eve of the Kōshin Festival.32

8 Introduction Together with the temporal awareness provided by the calendar, there was a Buddhist time span. Buddhism requires a service in memory of the dead, starting on the seventh day after the individual’s decease and repeating every seventh day up to the 49th, and then on the 100th day. The memorial service is necessary for the first, third, seventh, 13th, and 33rd years and could be extended to the 50th year and beyond. Alongside these official services, Buddhists (all Japanese were Buddhists at the time) were required to pray on the death anniversaries of family members every month. This became a habitual effort expended by those who had large families, like rulers and rich merchants. There was no definite boundary between the living and the dead. People felt the presence of dead family members in their daily lives, not just during the recurring services for the dead, but also in relation to the Buddhist doctrine of retribution, in which the present life is a punishment or reward for preceding lives. At the same time, the people were as materialistic as they were prayerful. In theatre milieus, turning a Buddhist memorial service into a commercial show was a common practice among theatre managers and had been popular from the 17th century. One such example is the 35th memorial service for Yūgiri, a famous courtesan, which was staged as a Chikamatsu bunraku play in 1712.33 As this case illustrates, religion in Japan –​both Buddhism and Shintoism, which were merged during this period –​was not hostile to entertainment; on the contrary, temples and shrines traditionally acted as key venues for theatrical performance. Their tolerance, however, was temporally marked by the dichotomy of the sacred (hare) and profane (ke). As a rule, it was only during rites, festivals, and specific days of memorial service that people could indulge in carnivalesque freedom –​drinking, hilarity, and lewdness –​while the city, by its nature, was prone to prolonged libertinism. Within this context, the sacred–​profane dichotomy was spatially projected onto Japanese urban layouts, with Osaka representing a typical case. The akusho  –​theatre district and pleasure quarters  –​was found in the newly developed neighborhood of the city and was guaranteed a permanent location by the authorities.34 As Moriya has explained, the teahouse attached to a theatre was a place where premium customers could buy an actor’s body after the performance.35 Actors belonged to the same group of pariahs as prostitutes. In any event, the city of Osaka was ideologically divided into two spheres: this world, or the sectors carrying out dry and secular business; and another world found across the rivers, in newly developed, isolated places that offered showy and degenerate, but irresistible, attractions. Viewed from this angle, we can see how the tragedies of Chikamatsu, such as The Love Suicides at Amijima, appealed to the genius loci or topology of the city. In the last act of the play, Jihei and Koharu, a merchant and courtesan, wander around the bridges crossing over rivers before their love is fulfilled by death. The chanter enumerates Tenma-​bashi (bashi or hashi means bridge), Tenjin-​bashi, Sakura-​bashi, and the other bridges that demarcate the northern end of the city, or the border between this side (to which the paper

Introduction  9 merchant belongs) and the other (where his mistress is trapped). For the audience, these bridge names would have been evocative precisely because they were a part of their lives.36 Generally, the term “floating word” (ukiyo) refers to life in the pleasure quarters, as depicted in Ihara Saikaku’s fictions or in ukiyo-​ e pictures. However, this term is a homonym for sad world (ukiyo), suggesting that pleasure is inseparable from sorrow and that we thus drift through life. For the inhabitants of Osaka as well as for those living in big cities, whose lives depended on water transport, the “floating world” was not a metaphor, but a description of reality. Not only were they drifting in the circles of days, months, and years, but they were also crossing rivers between this world and another.

The year when bunraku was at its height In August 1748, The Treasury of Loyal Retainers premiered at the Takemoto-​ za theatre in Osaka. This play became the most successful dramatic piece ever produced in Japanese theatrical history. It has been viewed as an elixir by theatre impresarios looking for a way to end poor attendance. The authors who collaborated on the play  –​Takeda Izumo II, Miyoshi Shōraku, and Namiki Senryū (Sōsuke) –​had produced two other important works during the preceding years:  Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees (1747) and Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy (1746). All of these plays were adapted to kabuki and became part of the canon for both kabuki and bunraku theatre. Bunraku reached its second and highest peak of activity after Chikamatsu, who settled in Osaka in 1703 and refined this form of drama. It would see its final period of glory in the late 18th century, before maturing into a classic art with a fixed repertoire in the next century. This period of 80 years (from 1703, the year of the first production of The Love Suicides at Sonezaki, to 1783, the year of Chikamatsu Hanji’s death),37 like the eight decades of English Renaissance theatre between 1562 and 1642, was a golden age, not only for bunraku but also for world theatre, because a wide variety of dramatic and theatrical possibilities were explored. In fact, many bunraku pieces written and staged during this period entered into the kabuki repertoire (gidayū kyōgen); today’s kabuki would be inconceivable without these plays of bunraku origin. The questions then are, why was bunraku so productive during these years, and why were these plays produced in Osaka, rather than the capital, Edo? Both questions relate to the characteristics of Osaka, as we have seen thus far, as a city under the feudal regime where merchants carried out specific activities. As we will see in the next chapter, bunraku before Chikamatsu had primitive qualities, deriving from its origin in religious ballads. Chikamatsu “modernized” bunraku plays in the sense that contemporary, ordinary characters performed before an audience. If so, why were they represented by puppets, in lieu of flesh and blood actors? In other words, didn’t this

10 Introduction change take place in kabuki theatre? The answer is that kabuki retained, from its origin in the Okuni dance in the late 16th century, the nature of review, which featured stars using expedient synopses, as in the case of Sakata Tōjūro I (1647–​1709), a kabuki principal famous for acting the role of a man making advances to a courtesan. Bunraku plays, by contrast, could be conceived under the full control of playwrights because they were enacted by puppets rather than human beings, just as Gordon Craig dreamed in the 20th century. It was Chikamatsu who noticed that bunraku offered playwrights an opportunity to construct more consistent and complex plots than those of kabuki. Chikamatsu imbued inanimate objects with psychological details, giving them more life than living performers, as is seen in his love suicides plays. In fact, he was a pioneer of the bunraku genre that depicts the contemporary lives of ordinary people (sewa-​mono). It is often unnoticed –​except by those specializing in bunraku  –​that the most successful play Chikamatsu wrote in his lifetime was not a contemporary sewa-​mono play, but The Battles of Coxinga (1715), a history play about the Japanese intervention in a Chinese civil war between the declining Ming dynasty and the Qing dynasty in the 17th century; this play earned a long-​run record of 17 consecutive months. Chikamatsu, consequently, is considered an innovator of bunraku history plays (jidai-​mono). After him, mainstream bunraku was effectively made up of jidai-​mono history plays, including The Treasury of Loyal Retainers mentioned above. Why were bunraku history plays favored in the 18th century? To give a credible statement to this question, it is necessary to consider the intellectual background of the audience in Osaka. We have already mentioned that 17th-​century Japan experienced huge economic growth. It was a pioneering age for ambitious merchants, who found business opportunities in exploiting farmland and mines, city construction, or the excavation of rivers and canals. Some of them became economic tycoons whose wealth equaled, or even exceeded, that of feudal lords. One example was the house of Yodoya, which first established itself as a city developer in Osaka, and then accumulated enormous amounts of property as an influential rice trader and banker, leaving its name today on the Yodoya-​bashi Bridge in the center of Osaka. In 1705, the house was destroyed by the shogunal authorities; their official reason was “extravagance above the means of the merchant class” (the real reason was supposedly a desire to eliminate the enormous debts of the feudal lords).38 Merchants were voracious moneymakers in those days, and sometimes arrogant enough to compete with the ruling class for economic power. It was an age of conspicuous consumption. A well-​known example is the case of the wife of a wealthy merchant, Ishikawa Rokubei, who dared to challenge the Shogun Tsunayoshi through the gorgeousness of her kimono. The enraged shogun was quick to seize the couple’s house and ban them from the city.39 If theatre reflects mass cultural taste, kabuki was, without doubt, the best media to convey the atmosphere of the 17th century, for it was colored by

Introduction  11 extravagance from its beginning. Kabuki first fascinated people through its gay, bizarre costumes and unusual performance style. What the audience expected on stage was a show, not a lengthy drama, whether it was performed by beautiful boys or handsome actors. At the crest of the economic boom in the Genroku era (1688–​1704), a favorite theme of kabuki in the western region (Kyoto and Osaka) was the yatsushi scene, in which a ruined millionaire or a lord’s spendthrift son longs to see his lover in the pleasure quarters, lamenting his misfortune. Meanwhile, in the capital (Edo), the aragoto or mighty acting style, suggesting a fighting pioneer of undeveloped land, was the most acclaimed style. Although these styles are apparently different, they seem to constitute two sides of the same coin, mirroring the spirit of the age; audience members were expected to have seen similar incidents in their lives. The tide changed around the turn of the century, or in the late Genroku era, because the economy had reached its peak, entering a period of stagnation. Concurrently, merchants learned how unreliable samurai were. According to historians, the bankers of the new generation, represented by the house of Mitsui, for instance, recognized the risk of being too dependent on loans to feudal lords and diversified their businesses.40 The rulers –​the shogunate and feudal lord authorities –​chose to coexist with these unpleasant economic animals, since using strong-​arm tactics such as confiscation could dislocate the nation’s economy. This was the attitude adopted by the eighth shogun, Yoshimune, during his rule. There was also another change in the era. Historians have explained how a new readership developed among rich farmers in areas surrounding Osaka as a result of the diffusion of printed books in the late 17th century.41 Merchants in the city were also literate, as they needed this skill to carry out transactions. It was not just Ihara Saikaku’s short stories, but also Chikamatsu’s bunraku plays that became best sellers of the day. A new class of intellectuals appeared alongside the ruling class. In fact, apart from scholarly monks at religious institutions, samurai monopolized both physical power and intellectual activities; this tendency accelerated as peace became an everlasting reality for them. As rulers, they possessed the exclusive right to interpret history, creating ethical standards and propagating them. What were the history, ethics, and morality of the lower class? While morality was officially imposed by the samurai, another, spontaneous form of morality emerged among members of the merchant class, as shown in Chikamatsu’s love suicides plays. These plays draw on the ethics of merchants, the morals shared by husbands and wives, and the human feeling of love. It is well known that Chikamatsu integrated conflicts arising from these elements into his dramatic pieces. Independent ethics and the morality of commoners were also the consequence of the self-​contradictions of the rulers. Wakao Masaki, a specialist in early modern Japanese ideology, has made an interesting argument: when lower class people were taught by the rulers to believe in lords as idealized figures, they asked to themselves, “where is he, because we can’t find anyone who

12 Introduction fits the description.” Thus, they began to acquire a critical attitude toward official institutions.42 This must also have been true for merchants in Osaka, who kept an ironic eye on the samurai. It has been said that the ban on books and plays about double suicides in 1722 caused a decline in sewa-​mono realistic plays in the Chikamatsu style. The prohibition hastened the rise of 18th-​century jidai-​mono history plays, which subsequently incorporated sewa-​mono elements. This explanation is not enough, however, to fully interpret the significant development of history plays. We must take into account another aspect of the commoner’s mentality: after the economic advances of the 17th century, they became equipped with the capacity to reflect on long periods of time. Although they left no explicit statements, it is possible that townspeople asked the following questions:  in the repetition of days, months, and years in the sexagenary cycle (in other words, in this floating world), what constitutes the past? Where did they come from and where would they go, in the never-​ending Buddhist circle of life and death? They must find their own history, not the one possessed by the rulers. It is significant, in this regard, that the Kaitokudō academy, a private educational institution supported by merchants and open to the townspeople, was established in 1724 in Osaka. The popularity of bunraku history plays in 18th-​ century Osaka should be seen from such intellectual perspectives.

History and politics in bunraku plays Needless to say, bunraku history plays are not written in the style of Occidental modern plays; they are not intended to represent events in the past “objectively.” In addition, the plays were based on popularized history such as A Chronicle of Great Peace (The Taiheiki), dealing with the struggle between two parties of warriors supporting different emperors in the 14th century, and The Tale of the Heike, about the civil war in the 12th century. While these stories were traditionally narrated by itinerant solo performers like biwa-​hōshi (blind monks) and kōshakushi (historionic narrators) on street corners and in the countryside, bunraku authors dramatized them in a different context, overlapping the past with the present. This was the case in The Treasury of Loyal Retainers. Although the playwright’s major concern was to dramatize a current event (the Akō Incident in the early 18th century), the story was transferred to another period in the world of The Taiheiki because it was forbidden for commoners to write about the current affairs of the samurai. Interestingly, in the course of making these adaptations, bunraku authors wrote plots that entangled the lower class–​merchants as well as the poor (who were apparently contemporaries of the audience) –​in the samurai’s past struggles, as if to say that these people were not excluded from society. Through this process, history became linked with politics in bunraku history plays. The audience was invited to see what was happening on stage

Introduction  13 through the eyes of the commoners. In this way, the plays appropriated history, turning their –​the rulers’ –​history into our story. In so doing, these plays were naturally aware of the social continuity between lords and subjects, as well as the temporal continuance from what took place to what develops. By using the word “political,” we intend to show how chronological concerns have social implications. The eight plays we will analyze in the following chapters have, in different ways, relevance to sociopolitical problems:  after examining the narrative structure of bunraku and its dramaturgy in Chapter 1, we shall see the foreign awareness of the Japanese in Chapter 2, reflected in Chikamatsu’s plays. In Chapter 3, the problem of social discrimination, which still exists today, will be discussed, while Chapter 4 will describe the relationship between the Emperor and the commoners, another important issue for the Japanese. Chapter  5 treats, as indicated above, the process by which the commoners reappropriated history in the dramatic imagination, and in Chapter  6, we shall see how their monetary concerns transforms a famous revenge affair into a play about an ethical transaction. We shall then consider, from Chapters 7 to 9, three plays written by the playwright Chikamatsu Hanji (1725−1783), who tried to rebuild bunraku amid its severe competition with kabuki. Plays analyzed in these chapters represent the rebellious spirit of the Osaka people against the authorities, claims of unrestrained love by women (who were not prostitutes in the age of Chikamatsu), and the emergence of individuality among those who were involved in absurd revenge affairs. All of these themes became tangible in the late 18th century when Japanese society matured albeit the social contradictions present within it. In the Conclusion, we illustrate why the creativity of bunraku history plays was lost at the turn of the new century, replaced by that of the rising kabuki genre in Edo, the capital. It must be stressed that the plays we shall discuss, which appeared during the 80 years of the bunraku golden age, are not isolated; partly because of the severe competition between bunraku and kabuki as well as the individual bunraku theatres, and partly because there was no copyright protection. These plays were produced as a result of interactions with similar plays treating the same themes, thus these plays stand out among the plexus of many pieces of secondary importance. In fact, 630 bunraku pieces were published in the 17th and 18th centuries.43 While not all of these plays were staged, this figure suffices to show the popularity of bunraku during these years. In addition to the eight plays discussed here, there are many other important bunraku pieces, including A Chronicle of the Battle of Ichinotani (Ichinotani futaba gunki, 1751)44 and Japan’s Twenty-​Four Paragons of Filial Piety (Honchō nijūshikō, 1766). However, we believe that the selected works sufficiently represent our problematics; readers will see how they correlate with one another, constituting the palimpsestual intertextuality of bunraku political theatre in the 18th century.

14 Introduction

Notes 1 Hayami Akira (2003, p. 118, 2015, p. 60). See also Kitō Hiroshi (2000, pp. 83–​86). 2 Shinshū Osakashi-​shi hensan-​iinkai (1989, p. 528). 3 The exact population of Edo (the capital) in this period is unknown because samurai and their families, including domestic servants, were excluded from the census. For a discussion of this problem, see Ōishi Shinzaburō (1977, pp. 113–​116). 4 www.oldbaileyonline.org/​static/​Population-​history-​of-​london.jsp#a1715-​1760. Last consulted on December 6, 2019. 5 https://​en.wikipedia.org/​wiki/​Amsterdam#Historical_​population. Last consulted on December 6, 2019. 6 For some daimyō, the obligation was set at alternate half-​years. 7 Yabuta Yutaka (2010, p. 28). 8 Shinshū Osakashi-​shi hensan-​iinkai (1989, pp. 700–​718). See also Kōda Shigetomo (1995, pp. 171–​178). 9 Shinshū Osakashi-​shi hensan-​iinkai (1989, pp. 711–​713). For a more recent and detailed study of the Osaka rice market, see Takatsuki Yasuo (2018, 2012). 10 For detailed information about the commercial and industrial activities of Osaka during this period, see Shinshū Osakashi-​shi Hensan-​iinkai (1989, pp. pp. 802–​823). 11 Kigami Yurika (2015, p. 58). The record is for 1746 (third year of Enkyō). Kigami’s historiographic research on Osaka playhouses in the Edo period is so far the most exhaustive. For a concise version of her study, see Kigami (2014). 12 Less is known about this kind of theatre (karakuri koshibai) in the early 18th century. Supposedly, there was an interplay between automatons and small children, introducing mechanical devices, for children are balanced with the former in size. According to the study by Yamada Kazuhito, automatons and props were elaborately constructed so as to show off, for example, the rapid transformation of a young girl into a serpent, a plot adapted from the Noh play Dōjōji. Yamada (2017, p. 138). See also, Shinshū Osakashi-​shi hensan-​iinkai (1990, pp. 778–​779). 13 Kigami (2015, p. 58). 14 Ibid., p. 57. 15 The present-​day National Bunraku Theatre and the Shōchiku Kabuki Theatre are located around this area. 16 Moriya Takeshi (2011, pp.  130–​131, 1985, pp.  232–​233). We must note that his descriptions of the theatre are for the Genroku era (1688–​1710), but presumably there wasn’t much difference in its structure. 17 Ibid., p. 124. 18 Ibid., pp. 120–​121. See also Moriya (1985, pp. 235–​243). 19 Yamamoto Hirofumi (2012, p. 34). Yamamoto estimates the total cost required for the Akō rōnin’s vendetta in 1703 and converts 1 mon of coin to 30 yen in 2012. 20 In the capital (Edo), the entrance fee was twice as expensive. Moriya (2011, p. 122). 21 Shinshū Osakashi-​shi hensan-​iinkai (1989, p. 947). 22 Kigami (2014, p. 86). 23 Ibid., p. 95. 24 Shinshū Osakashi-​shi hensan-​iinkai (1989, pp. 841–​844). 25 Watanabe Tadashi (1993, p. 71). 26 Saitō Osamu (2002, p. 146). This figure has been interpolated from the known data for 1689 and the 1860s. See also Ōishi (1977, pp. 117–​120). 27 Watanabe (1993, p. 128).

Introduction  15 28 Kitō (2000, p. 175). 29 Ibid., pp. 186–​216. 30 See, for example, Susan B. Hanley (1997, Chapter  5:  Urban Sanitation and Physical Well-​being). See also Ōishi (1977, pp. 133–​140). 31 For more information about this topic, see Saitoh (2002) and Kito (2000). 32 CZ 12. The original title is Shinjū yoigōshin. 33 The play in question is Yūgiri awa no naruto, CZ 7 (HD: Yūgiri of Awa’s Straits of Natuto). 34 As for the locations and general descriptions of pleasure quarters in Osaka in the Edo period, see Shinshū Osakashi-​shi hensan-​iinkai (1989, pp. 974–​989). 35 Moriya (2011, 160–​164). This habit of buying kabuki actors (yakusha-​gai), which reminds us of Nana, a novel by Emile Zola, is said to have survived into the early 20th century. 36 For the city of Osaka seen through the works of Chikamatsu, see also Jacqueline Gibbons (1994). 37 The golden age of bunraku may be extended to more than a century, starting from The Soga Heir (Yotsuhi soga, 1683), the oldest of Chikamatsu’s bunraku plays, to The Picture Book of the Taikō (Ehon Taikōki, 1799), which is considered as the last masterpiece of bunraku. However, we share Stanleigh H. Jones’ view of its heyday as being these eight decades. See Jones (2013, p. 281, note 4). 38 For details on the house of Yodoya affair, see Shinshū Osakashi-​shi hensan-​iinkai, (1989, pp. 512–​518) and Watanabe (1993, pp. 148–​154). 39 Wakita Osamu (1980, pp. 61–​62). 40 Ōishi Shinzaburō (1993, pp. 56–​71). 41 Wakao Masaki (2012, p. 343). 42 Ibid., p. 346. 43 Kōzu Takeo (2009). 44 In OC, The Battles at Ichinotani.

Bibliography Chikamatsu Monzaemon. 1985–​ 1994. Chikamatsu Zenshū. [Complete Works of Chikamatsu]. 17 vols. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. [Abbreviated as CZ.] Gibbons, Jacqueline. 1994. “Chikamatsu’s Osaka.” In Writing the City. Eden, Babylon and the New Jerusalem: 243–255, edited by Peter Preston and Paul Simpson-​ Housely New York: Routledge. Hanley, Susan B. 1997. Everyday Things in Premodern Japan: The Hidden Legacy of Material Culture. Berkeley: University of California Press. Hayami Akira. 2003. Kinsei nihon-​no keizaishakai [The Economic Society of Early Modern Japan]. Chiba: Reitaku University Press. —​—​—​. 2015. Japan’s Industrious Revolution: Economic and Social Transformations in the Early Modern Period. Tokyo: Springer. Jones, Stanleigh H. Jr., trans. & annot. 2013. “The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province. Moritsuna’s Camp,” “Mount Imo and Mount Se:  Precepts for Women. The Mountains,” “Vengeance at Iga Pass.” In The Bunraku Puppet Theatre of Japan. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press. Kennedy, Dennis, ed. 2010. The Oxford Companion to Theatre and Performance. Oxford: Oxford University Press. [Abbreviated as OC.]

16 Introduction Kigami Yurika. 2014. “‘Kinsei Osaka shibaichi no shakai kōzō: Dōtonbori kaihatsu to shibai kōgyō no tenkai [Social Structure of the Theater District in Early Modern Osaka:  the Development of Dōtonbori and Production of Performing Arts].” Toshibunka Kenkyū [Studies in Urban Cultures] 16: 28–​43. Available as e-​text: www. lit.osaka-​cu.ac.jp/​UCRC/​wp-​content/​uploads/​2014/​03/​p28.pdf. —​—​—​. 2015. “‘Kinsei Osaka no geinō wo meguru shakai kōzō:  shibaichi, shinchi shibai, miyaji shibai no arikata ni sokushite [Social Structure of Osaka in the Early Modern Period, with Relation to the Theater District, Newly Developed Theater Districts and Theater Performances in Shrines].” In Dōtonbori no shakai = kūkan kōzō to shibai:Jūten kenkyū hōkokusho [The Social and Spatial Structure of the Dōtonbori Theater District: Priority Research Report Papers]. Osaka: Osaka City University, UCRC (Urban Culture Research Center). Kitō Hiroshi. 2000. Jinkou kara yomu Nihon-​no rekishi [Japanese History Viewed from Its Population]. Tokyo. Kōdansha. (First published 1983.) Kōda Shigetomo. 1995. Edo to Osaka [Edo and Osaka]. Tokyo. Huzanbō. (First published in 1934.) Kōzu Takeo. 2009. Jōrurishibon kenkyū [A Histrorical Study of Jōruri Playbooks]. Tokyo: Yagishoten. Moriya Takeshi. 1985. Kinsei geinō kōgyōshi no kenkyū [A Study of the History of Performing Arts Productions in the Early Modern Period]. Tokyo: Kōbundō. —​—​—​. 2011. Genroku Bunka: Yugei, Akusho, Shibai [The Culture of the Genroku Era: Amusement, Pleasure Quarters, and Theater]. Tokyo:  Kōdansha. (First published in 1978.) Ōishi Shinzaburō. 1977. Edo jidai [The Edo Period]. Tokyo: Chūōkōronsha. —​—​—​. 1993. Genroku jidai [The Genroku Era]. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten Saitō Osamu. 2002. Edo to Osaka: Kindai Nihon-​no toshi kigen [Edo and Osaka: the Urban Origin of Modern Japan]. Tokyo: NTT shuppan. Shinshū Osakashi-​shi Hensan-​iinkai, ed. 1989. Shinshū Osakashi-​shi [Revised History of Osaka City]. Vol. 3. Osaka: Osaka City Office. —​—​—​, ed. 1990. Shinshū Osakashi-​shi [Revised History of Osaka City]. Vol. 4. Osaka: Osaka City Office. Takatsuki Yasuo. 2012. Kinsei komeshijō no keisei to tenkai: bakufu shihō to Dōjima komekaisho no hatten [The Formation and Development of Rice Market in the Early Modern Period: Governmental Jurisdiction and the Development of the Dōjima Rice Market]. Nagoya: Nagoya University Press. —​—​—​. 2018. Osaka Dōjima komeichiba: Edo bakufu vs shijō keizai [Dōjima Rice Market in Osaka: The Government versus the Market Economy]. Tokyo: Kōdansha. Wakao Masaki. 2012. Taiheiki-​yomi no jidai [The Age of the Lecturers of The Taiheiki]. Tokyo: Heibonsha. (First published in 1999). Wakita Osamu.1980. Genroku no shakai [Genroku Era Society]. Tokyo. Hanawa shobō. Watanabe Tadashi. 1993. Chōnin no miyako Osaka monogatari [History of Osaka: the City of Townspeople]. Tokyo. Chūōkōronsha. Yabuta Yutaka. 2010. Bushi no machi Osaka [Osaka, City of Samurai]. Tokyo. Chūōkōronsha. Yamada Kazuhito. 2017. Takeda karakuri no kenkyū [A Study of Takeda Karakuri Theatre]. Tokyo: Ōfū. Yamamoto Hirofumi. 2012. Chūshingura no kessansho [Financial Statements of Chūshingura]. Tokyo: Shinchōsha.

1  The dramaturgy of bunraku

In this chapter, we will investigate what makes bunraku so unique in its dramaturgy. Bunraku and kabuki, despite their seeming resemblance due to the repertoire, are significantly different as performing arts because bunraku is something in between an epic and a drama. Its text, as narrated by the chanter (tayū), works like a camera eye that focuses on the puppets’ movements. Besides, bunraku history plays are composed around the notion of sekai (story world), which differs from that of the Western world. Finally, we will mention another interesting aspect of bunraku dramaturgy based on puns (word play).

What you see is not what they did Prior to an analysis of the “social energy” of 18th-​century Japan as expressed in bunraku, we think it is necessary to give readers basic information about bunraku texts in their historical contexts, without which an understanding of the relationship between the stage and society would be incomplete. In the first place, it must be stressed that kabuki and bunraku were considerably different in terms of their treatment of play texts. No kabuki plays remain before the early 18th century, because kabuki scripts were made for in-​ house theatre use: actors were told only what their parts were by the leading playwright who conceived the plot. What we know today of the synopsis, characters’ words, and even rough ideas of the stage directions of the plays from those days − Chikamatsu’s kabuki plays written in the Genroku era (1688−1704), for example − because they were contained in illustrated kabuki playbooks (eiri kyōgen bon). These playbooks were sold not only for those who missed the stage but also as a program (of sorts) for the audience. The tendency of kabuki to depreciate scripts long prevailed and it was only from the late 18th century that kabuki scripts were preserved for repeated use. In short, kabuki has been favored for its theatricality and was not considered as a literary genre. Bunraku texts, by contrast, were published from the early 17th century. They were called certified true versions (shōhon) of plays1 and, like kabuki playbooks, were published for theatregoers and amateurs. But different from

18  The dramaturgy of bunraku kabuki, bunraku provided the full texts of its plays to its readers. This means that, while kabuki actors freely reinterpreted their parts on an improvisational basis, bunraku was principally made for fixed and audible text (which was also readable when printed). At the risk of simplification, we could say that if kabuki is to be seen, bunraku is to be heard (the specific aspect of the latter remains today as the tradition of sujōruri: bunraku recitals without puppets). Such divergence of the two performing arts came, in other words, from their individual circumstances. Contrary to kabuki, which was (and is) dominated by actors, in bunraku, the positions of authors who provided the chanters (tayū) with their texts held a much more important position, especially since the conversion of Chikamatsu from kabuki playwright to bunraku author. In this regard, we must be aware that the manipulation of puppets was rather on a primitive level, even in the days of Chikamatsu; different from the present stage on which three people manipulate the main puppets, puppets in Chikamatsu’s time were all handled by single puppeteers. It was only in the mid-​18th century that the three-​man puppet came into practice. The elaboration of the bunraku stage, including puppet manipulation, tayū chanting skills, and shamisen music, began in the late 18th century and reached its peak in the 19th century when bunraku became a classic art. Indeed, we cannot represent Chikamatsu’s plays in the same fashion as that of their premieres not only because the puppets are different, but also because there is no record of the shamisen playing, and even the chanting style has been greatly influenced by later adaptations of his plays, although detailed notations on the narration is included in a text that we will discuss hereunder. Nowadays bunraku is a performing art that is pleasurable for both the eyes and the ears. In the course of its development, its audible portion, that is, the text narrated by the chanter carried more weight than its visual representation, which justifies our intentions in this book:  to read bunraku texts in their social contexts. As a matter of fact, shōhon (published bunraku plays) spread among the people and were widely read. At the same time, in order to approach the bunraku text, it is necessary to gain additional knowledge of its narrative structure or relationship between the chanter (narrator) and puppets, because, as is the case of Japanese traditional theatre, such structure is incorporated on a textual level in bunraku as well.

The narrative structure of bunraku plays When we look at bunraku texts through the modernized (or Western) eye, we certainly have the impression that it is an art that has been suspended in the process of its evolution from an epic to a drama –​and this is visually evident. To ascertain this, below is a passage from The Battles of Coxinga by Chikamatsu, translated by Donald Keene,2 which set the cornerstone for the introduction of bunraku pieces to English readers. In this scene, the hero of the play, Watōnai (who will later be called Coxinga), and his mother are lost in the vast land of China after crossing the East China Sea with his father.

The dramaturgy of bunraku  19 NARRATOR: 

… Watōnai, following his father’s instructions, steadfastly carried his mother on his back, looking for a house where they might hide. He jumped and leapt over dangerous rocks and boulders, over the roots of old trees, and over waterfalls and mountain streams, but though he speeded ahead like a bird in flight, China is a land of boundless distances, and he wandered into the vast Bamboo Forest of Senri, where no people dwell. Watōnai was at a loss what to do. WATONAI:  Mother, my legs are beginning to feel the strain. We must already have come forty or fifty miles, but we have met neither man nor monkey.3 If we are faithful to the original text, however, the above could be translated as follows: Following his father’s instructions, Watōnai, looking for a house where they might hide, steadfastly carried his mother on his back, and jumped and leapt over (iro) dangerous rocks and boulders –​over the roots of old trees, and over waterfalls and mountain streams. Though he speeded ahead like a bird in flight, China is a land of boundless distances, and (fushi) he wandered into the vast Bamboo Forest of Senri, where no people dwell. (ji) Watōnai was at a loss what to do. (kotoba) Mother, my legs are beginning to feel the strain. We must already have come forty or fifty miles, but we have met neither man nor monkey.4 (ji)

Needless to say, the most obvious difference between the two versions is that there is no indication of a separation between the characters’ lines in the latter; even the narrator is not indicated because it is self-​evident that the text is narrated by the chanter (though, as noted in the preface, chanters are replaced one after another in the course of the stage production). Next, we may ask, what are the superscript characters, such as (ji), (iro), (fushi), and (kotoba), inserted between phrases?5 They are tune indicators to show that bunraku is a poetic play based on musicality, although it has neither distinctive meter nor rhyme.6 The easiest to understand among these signs is the opposition between ji and kotoba: while the former denotes melodiously recited (or sung) parts accompanied by shamisen music, the latter designates the sober speech of the characters. Iro is used in between these two modes of narration and fushi is used for demarcating the end of a sequence with musical cadence. While there are also many other indicators for adding fine nuances to the chanting, as far as the above passage is concerned, we can see it is composed of four units. First, the start of Watōnai and his mother’s adventures is sung in animated ji, with the difficulty they encounter (dangerous rocks and boulders) spotlighted in a tone change to iro inserted between, and the rest of their journey continuously sung in ji. When they arrive at the bamboo forest where a dramatic event is expected, it is musically announced by fushi. Finally, the

20  The dramaturgy of bunraku hero’s kotoba (which literally means “words”) cuts into a scene in which his conversation with his mother is highlighted frontstage. With the aid of these indicators, the audience (and readers) are given a vivid image of Watōnai and his mother’s wanderings while the narrator in Keene’s translation just narrates.7 As C. Andrew Gerstle suggests in his analysis of one of Chikamatsu’s sewa-​mono plays, the difference comes from the fact that bunraku narration with tune indicators functions like camera work in a movie.8 The four units in the above passage can be easily visualized as different sequences which contain, for example, a medium shot of Watōnai carrying his mother on his back, pan shots of their adventure in the immense land of China, and a close-​up of the mysterious bamboo forest. Keene remarks in his translator’s note for Coxinga: “The speeches of the various characters are sometimes not indicated as such, and one has the impression that the whole is one long narrative.”9 That is true. Bunraku text is in fact an incessant flow of narration composed of different dan (or part; dan is generally interpreted as act in English translation, but we believe it is not –​a problem that we shall address later). In the Japanese text, even the changing of scenes is not marked. Concerning the above passage describing Watōnai’s adventures, Keene interprets that it is included in a longer scene covering the departure of the hero and his parents from Japan up to his fight with a fierce tiger in the bamboo forest of China, and entitles it as “The Bamboo Forest of Senri.”10 Not only is there no such caption in the original text, but also what Keene considered as an independent scene is further divided into several scenes, because there is another tune indicator in the sentence preceding the above quoted passage: Unsure of directions, they took the sun in the white clouds as their guide, and (sanjū) separated to the east and the west. (ji) Watōnai, following his father’s instructions.11 The tune indicator sanjū signifies the end of a scene that must be sung with an accentuated and prolonged note. Thus the phrase indicates that Watōnai and his mother separate from his father, marking a change in their path and the scene. Here again, we find that sanjū works like a kind of fade-​out in a movie that is more flexibly used as compared to scene changes in traditional Western plays. While bunraku could not (and cannot) achieve rapid scene changes like in motion pictures, sanjū has the function of a theatrical convention announcing the end of a certain dramatic sequence, regardless of the real time required for such a change –​in the same sense that a sudden and gradual blackout of the screen is understood as a cinematographic sign. Admitting that Keene’s translation is an excellent work for his understanding of bunraku text, it is regrettable that English translations of bunraku plays since Keene have adopted his method of distributing the speech to characters while the elements of storytelling are personified as narrator, because the procedure could lead to the misunderstanding that bunraku consists of a

The dramaturgy of bunraku  21 character called the narrator and that there are also characters independent of the narrator (chanter). Keene excuses: “In the translation I have divided the speeches in the customary Western way, and have added the personage of the narrator.”12 His intention was possibly to make bunraku texts readable to those who were only familiar with conventional Western plays. Besides, we must note that until the late 20th century, it was practically impossible for people living outside of Japan to see a bunraku stage. As the result of such customization of bunraku plays for the (supposed) appetite of English readers –​or their unintended modernization (Westernization) –​a major aspect of bunraku text has gone missing; if we borrow the terminology of narrative theory,13 bunraku is built on the interaction between diegetic elements (storytelling) and mimetic elements (speech), and in many cases diegesis prevails over mimesis, reminding us that bunraku retains as much an archaic aspect of the epic as the modern appearance of a drama. In the above passage, for example, we find a typical diegetic technique in use: the ellipsis of (dramatic) time. The sentence starting with iro (“dangerous rocks and boulders”) to the one ending in fushi (the itinerary of the characters) can be narrated by the tayū in a couple of minutes at most, while Watōnai tells his mother that they should have trod 40 or 50 miles. This kind of ellipsis is frequently used in the play to accelerate the development of the plot: the crossing of Watōnai and his parents from Japan to China is abbreviated in a

Figure 1.1 The bunraku stage in 1765. The earliest visual source indicating the threeman puppet. © Waseda University Library.

22  The dramaturgy of bunraku few sentences; and in the final part, we are told that Watōnai, now given the honorary title of Coxinga, has conquered more than 50 castles in China, thus the narration indicates that a certain amount of time has elapsed since the end of the previous part. In addition, the diegetic aspect of the narration functions to fill out an empty space on stage; at the opening of the play, the Chinese Emperor’s palace is depicted with “three consorts, nine spouses of the second rank, twenty-​ seven of the third rank, and eighty-​one concubines.”14 Practically speaking, because it is impossible to introduce all of these figures on stage, different from movies, the audience (and readers) are invited to conceive the scene in their mind. If the role of the narration was limited to this level, however, the separation of the narrator from other characters in English translations would not be so misleading; the problem is that in bunraku, the narration must be synchronized with the manipulation of puppets, not with the playing of actors.

Narration and animation Chikamatsu wrote that bunraku authors should be devoted to the animation of puppets.15 While there is a significant difference between puppets of Chikamatsu’s age and those of the present, the concern of playwrights for puppets still could not (and cannot) be the same as that for living actors, since the former are built on stereotypes. Present-​day bunraku puppets are composed of these different stereotypes with particular puppet heads, such as Musume (young and loving woman), Keisei (beautiful courtesan), Bunshichi (brave samurai in his prime), and Genda (handsome young man). These puppets are repeatedly used for different plays, with fixed roles like villain, virtuous samurai, father, mother, or clown. While it is true that kabuki characters also could be stereotyped through the use of kumadori makeup, actors are necessarily marked with individuality, because they are living. Bunraku puppets are not; they are imbued with life, first by the words of the chanter (narrator), then by the manipulation of puppeteers. In the process, the chanter (narrator) is of utmost importance because without his (or her) intervention,16 the audience would not be provided with information about who this puppet is or what world (when and where) he or she is living in. Like novels and movies, bunraku narration serves for focalization, or bringing the audience’s attention to specific character(s). Hence in Part 2 of Coxinga, Watōnai and his wife Komutsu are introduced as follows: Now, there lived a young man named Watōnai Sankan in the town of Hirado, in the country of Matsura, in the province of Hizen in Japan, who made his living by casting his line and drawing his nets. His wife followed the same fisherman’s work.17

The dramaturgy of bunraku  23 When the couple is gathering various shells on the seashore, they (or the narrator, for, as discussed below, the viewpoint is floating) find these shells murmuring words of love: Unable to sleep, I all alone spend-​the-​night shells. For whom do I wait-​ shell? I am sorry-​I-​saw-​her shell, and wish I could forget-​shell. But the two of us lying-​in-​bed shell, could sink-​shell in one another’s arms, and whisper words of joy-​shells.18 Keene’s acrobatic translation of Japanese puns on shell names apart, the interest of the passage lies in the ambiguity in which amorous ideas evoked by shell names and the (possible) fantasy of the young couple are merged in the narration of the implied author (narrator) like a stream of consciousness, although they are not expressed as their speech or internal thoughts. Consequently, speech and narration cannot be as neatly separated from one another as Keene intended. As this instance shows, bunraku makes the narrator (chanter) omnipresent; it is he (or she) who conjures the mental activities of the puppets. In fact, he (or she) is not found on the same level as that of the puppets. Their playing spaces are physically separated and the narrator (chanter) is not a character in the play, but more like a voice-​over (or a point of view) in a film narrative. Besides the assigning of identities and minds, the relationship between the narrator and puppets is concerned with verbal redundancy supporting the actions of the puppets. In Part 5 of Chūshingura (The Treasury of Loyal Retainers) − another one of Keene’s translational achievements − Kampei, a low-​ranking samurai who has been banished from the house of his late lord for his frivolous actions, meets one of his former colleagues. The narration tells: At this first meeting after long separation bitter, unforgettable resentment over the fall of their master’s house wells up in their hearts, and both men clench their fists. Kampei bows his head, and for a time remains speechless. “I’m so ashamed of my disgrace I  can’t lift my head even before an old friend like yourself.”19 In the above passage, the sentence “Kampei bows his head, and for a time remains speechless” is surplus from the viewpoint of stage production  –​ it is the task of the puppeteers to visualize his gesture. Here again, the narration works to focalize on the figure of Kampei like a close-​up shot because, different from an actor who controls both his gesture and words, a puppet has certain limitations in attracting the audience’s attention only through its movement.20 Then Kampei implores his colleague (Yagorō) to allow him to join the secret project that the ex-​retainers are said to be planning. Kampei regrets his actions and weeps. The narrator describes him with compassion:

24  The dramaturgy of bunraku He touches his hands to the ground and weeps a man’s tears of remorse over his past mistake, tears that are the more pitiful for being so understandable.21 Then the narration turns: Yagorō, though he sympathizes with his comrade, is not free to divulge the great plan. “Kampei, what a nonsense is this.”22 The passage serves not only to reveal Yagorō’s thoughts, but also to switch the audience’s point of view to the other samurai through this detached comment. It is virtually a shot reverse shot technique in a movie. The verbal redundancy that amplifies the characters’ actions can also be seen in the use of mimetic words found in the Japanese language. In Part 6 of Chūshingura, Kampei is suspected by his colleagues of having killed his father-​ in-​law to steal money. This is narrated as follows: Yagorō takes the money from his kimono and lays it before Kampei, who is speechless with bewilderment.23 Kampei’s attitude, which is soberly described in English as “with bewilderment,” is phonetically stressed in the original text by the adverb “hatto-​ bakarini.” This is a mimetic word denoting a psychic shock or a freezing sentiment. Later, when the ashamed Kampei commits seppuku (disembowelment) as an excuse for his deed, Yagorō takes another action: Tears of chagrin are in his [Kampei’s] bloodshed eyes. Yagorō rises as soon as he has heard this account. He lifts the dead body [of Kampei’s father-​in-​law], turns it over, and examines the wounds.24 In the original text, there is another mimetic word “zun-​do” to depict Yagorō suddenly rising up (and finding that Kampei is not the murderer). Finally, when Kampei, assuming responsibility for the trouble as a samurai, puts an end to his life, it is narrated as: He drives the point of his dagger into his throat and falls forward, breathing his last.25 However, in the Japanese text, his motions are underlined by such mimetic words as “gutto” and “kappato.” The adverbs of mimicry, “hatto-​bakarini,” “zun-​ do,” “gutto,” and “kappato” are untranslatable into English, so it is understandable that Keene omitted these words. However, these words are uttered by the chanter (the narrator) to focus on (or to predict) critical moments in storytelling synchronized with the motion of the puppets.

The dramaturgy of bunraku  25 Seen from this angle, these mimetic words resemble sound effects (onomatopoeia) in comic books like “wham,” “boom,” and “krunk.” If onomatopoeia in comics is a visual sign for animating a soundless world, mimetic words in bunraku are a phonetical convention to attract the audience’s attention to a particular puppet in a particular situation. Besides mimetic words, bunraku also makes frequents use of onomatopoeia; in the above passage where Yagorō examines the wounds of the dead man, his act is interjected with “muh-​muh.” And after he finds that Kampei has made a serious mistake in assuming himself to be a murderer, Yagorō’s surprise is emphasized by an exclamation of “Eeh!” succeeded by the following words: Kampei, you acted too quickly!26 While Keene does not adopt interjections in his translation, except in some obvious cases such as Part 3 where the evil lord (Moronao) makes fun of his victim (the good lord En’ya) with “Ha ha!” (in the original text, however, the interjection is exaggerated as “Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha!”), bunraku narration is in fact abundant in sounds of exclamation such as “Aah,” “Ooh,” “Hooh,” and “Yai.” This indicates that bunraku follows the tradition of the Japanese narrative arts like The Tale of the Heike and Buddhist sermon ballads (sekkyō-​bushi), and that it is a vulgar art developed from the popular imagination, in which interjections, as the cry of the commoners, have as much importance as articulated words –​which is part of the reason why it seems so melodramatic to the modern eye. As Roland Barthes once observed, “[l]‌anguage being not purified, [b]unraku is quite unconcerned with ascesis.”27 As bunraku is the theatre of the early modern period, it does not enter into a detailed psychological study of characters, except for short comments like the one for Yagorō cited above. The narration (or the implied author), however, briefly predicts the characters’ behaviors with irony or humor. As the case of Kampei shows, the narrator does not hesitate to express sympathy or disgust for a particular character, since the story world of bunraku consists of a clear distinction between good and evil, which we will discuss in the following section. Moreover, as the bunraku dramaturgy progresses, comments in narration are used with deliberation. In Part 3 of Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees (translated by Stanleigh H. Jones), the villager Yazaemon finds a dead body of a samurai left on a roadside. The narration throws doubt: But then, what thought Has brought him to a halt?28

26  The dramaturgy of bunraku The answer to the question is not given at once. It is later revealed that Yazaemon uses the head of the dead samurai to save the life of his master, but an error in how it is used will engender a tragedy. So the narration prefigures the subsequent plot. This technique is a favorite of Namiki Sōsuke, the supposed leading author of the play. Chikamatsu Hanji, a playwright in the fully matured age of bunraku, heavily relied on such devices and, as we shall discuss in Chapter 7, by not providing the audience with sufficient information about the identity of his characters (i.e., by what narratology qualifies as “unreliable narration”),29 he gave his plays a taste of mystery, bringing bunraku into a kind of decadence. In other cases, the narration sounds ironical. In Part  3 of Yoshitsune, Yazaemon’s daughter (as a side note, Yazaemon manages a local sushi shop) is in love with a handsome young man, who is in fact the prince of the Heike clan. She is described as: Predictably, a daughter of a sushi man Whose trade requires swift work, It seems she’s grown up quickly.30 The original text is an ironical pun on the Japanese verb “nareru” (to be ripe). As sushi (in those days) was made from “ripe” (fermented) fish and rice, the narrator comments how the daughter is quick to be ripe for love. Notwithstanding, this kind of critical intervention is limited in bunraku text, and the narration is not thoroughly identified with any particular character. The specificity of bunraku narration is rather found, as the puns on shell names in Coxinga indicates, in the way in which the description of objects or scenery merges into the psychic imagery of the characters. The lyrical travel interludes (michiyuki) are a typical example. While they are introduced both in sewa-​mono (domestic) and jidai-​mono (history) plays, the scene does not aim to represent a real journey taken by the characters –​it is, instead, a projection of their states of mind in association with particular place names. In addition, even a mimetic part of a play or a sequence mainly composed of speech should not be taken as realistic representation. It is nonsense to criticize or admire Kampei’s lengthy seppuku scene, during which he excuses, implores, and regrets, for it is physically impossible. It is rather a symbolic sequence, like other seppuku and suicide scenes in bunraku, where so many things –​the characters’ truthfulness − are delivered at once in an extreme situation, as if the flow of dramatic time has slowed down. As we have seen, in bunraku, the act of narrating, that is, the mediation between narration and the movement of puppets, prevails over mimesis (the dramatic aspect, or speech). In the process, diegesis (narration) provides a point of view for focalizing on particular puppets in particular situations. In this sense, bunraku’s narrative shares common aspects with film and comic book narrations, as they are concerned with animating visual images.

The dramaturgy of bunraku  27 At the same time, to understand the bunraku narrative, we must see it from a wider perspective. First, a clear distinction should be made between two genres –​domestic plays (sewa-​mono) and history plays (jidai-​mono) –​ followed by an understanding of the notion of sekai, which is proper to the latter.

Difference between act and dan Bunraku domestic plays were established by Chikamatsu with his famous The Love Suicides at Sonezaki (1703).31 He puts on the bunraku stage an actual double suicide affair that had taken place in Osaka a month before the play’s premiere. Such quick production was commonplace to kabuki, which he was familiar with. His originality consists in his certain realism in depicting the characters’ psychologies. Since then, domestic plays have meant the dramatization of contemporary and sensational affairs such as love suicides and adultery. In this regard, it must be emphasized that, different from the present assumption, domestic plays did not form the center of bunraku repertoire. They were kiri-​kyōgen, or (relatively) short plays that supplemented jidai-​mono history plays. While the staging of jidai-​mono took a whole day, sewa-​mono, as supplements, could be represented in a couple of hours. This is the reason why, for those who are familiar with modern theatre, domestic plays seem to be tightly constructed with coherent actions (to the death of the main characters, anyway). In the age of Chikamatsu, the mainstream of bunraku was jidai-​mono history plays. In the 20 years from The Love Suicides at Sonezaki (1703) to his death (1725), Chikamatsu wrote 24 sewa-​mono domestic plays, while the number of jidai-​mono history plays he produced during the period was more than threefold. The present (over) evaluation of Chikamatsu’s sewa-​mono plays is obviously a bias toward modern drama. It derives from the studies of Japanese scholars in the late 19th century who were on the search for a “Japanese Shakespeare.”32 Sewa-​mono domestic plays are considerably different from jidai-​mono history plays in composition. The former generally consist of three volumes (maki) while the latter are made of five parts (dan). Both maki and dan have been customarily translated as “act” since Keene; however, such interpretation poses a problem, especially for the division of history plays. While it is possible to take maki (volume) as roughly corresponding to an “act,” we propose the use of “part” for dan, because the notion of an “act,” which was born in the tradition of Western theatre, implies a hierarchical structure composed of scenes that work toward a consistent action –​and such a concept is not shared by jidai-​mono history plays. Keene himself admits that “the history plays generally lack a sense of unity of time, scene, or even plot.”33 The five-​ part composition of bunraku history plays is not the same as the five-​act composition of classical dramas in the West, except for the point that both run from the beginning to the end. While classical drama pursues, through the division of units, the unity of action, the bunraku history play’s units are

28  The dramaturgy of bunraku made for diverting the interests of the audience, based on the notion of sekai which we will discuss hereunder. From a practical point of view, dan (part) is different from the Western concept of an act because it is not rare for a dan to require a couple of hours to be staged. The total five parts, then, consists of nine or ten hours, or a whole day. Since the mid-​18th century, however, the five-​part composition of the bunraku history play has not been observed, instead replaced by a structure of nine or ten shorter dans. This was because history plays allowed more domestic scenes and was incompatible with conventional norms. For such plays –​ Chūshingura, for example − we must admit that the dans were not so different from acts, at least in terms of their duration. As the case of Chūshingura shows, jidai-​mono history plays have adopted domestic elements since the ban of double suicides plays in 1722. However, the inclusion of domestic and contemporary scenes into the history play was another of Chikamatsu’s inventions as he renewed bunraku in the late 17th century. The Soga Heir (1683),34 which marked his debut as a bunraku author, treats people involved in the famous revenge of the Soga brothers, supposed to have taken place in the 12th century. The play begins when the brothers, after having delivered retribution, die; one is killed in the fight and the other is executed by the shogun’s orders. Thus the revenge is set in the background from the start. In the play, two servants of the late brothers (who are also brothers) and two lovers of the dead, who are courtesans, take further revenge on the shogun’s evil vassals who have insulted the achievement of the Soga brothers.35 This play was evidently a parody of the Soga brothers’ renowned revenge that brings low-​ ranking retainers and courtesans, in other words the commoners of the late 17th century, to the foreground. In fact, Chikamatsu brought the vivid scenes of the pleasure quarters that had been acclaimed in kabuki onto the bunraku stage. By so doing, he set another framework for bunraku history plays; they could be modern plays treating contemporary affairs, regardless of their time setting. As a result, bunraku playwrights after The Soga Heir, used the age setting of their plays to freely develop plots of their concern, which were not necessarily related to the past. In this flexible use of the past, we can see the birth of the sekai.

Sekai or story world It is not certain whether Chikamatsu was conscious of his dramaturgy based on sekai.36 In all likelihood, the concept was implicitly shared by bunraku playwrights in the 18th century, before it was elaborated as kabuki dramaturgy in the early 19th century (it was studied in a book called Kezairoku: Valuable Notes on Playwriting)37 along with the notion of shukō. At first sight, sekai corresponds to “story” in modern narratology (what Russian Formalists called “fabula” or “the basic story stuff ”)38 from which plots (shukō) are conceived. For bunraku (and kabuki), however, it could be more easily understood as a

The dramaturgy of bunraku  29 narrative matrix that engenders different plays according to a “world” (sekai) in the past. Such conception seems universal, since we can find counterparts of sekai in Western theatre; ancient Greek tragedians searched for the source of their dramas in the story world of the house of Atreus (Atreidai) and composed from it different plays. In this case, Atreidai is the sekai of Greek tragedy and the two different versions of Electra by Sophocles and Euripides reflect their shukō. The same relationship can be found between Greek mythology or Roman history and 17th-​century French classical tragedies. In addition to this, there are some similarities between bunraku history plays and Shakespeare’s “histories” (or other history plays in his age) concerning the backgrounds that constructed their dramatic worlds. First, the presence of censorship; as portraying living monarchs was forbidden in the age of Shakespeare,39 so bunraku playwrights were also deprived of the freedom of dramatizing present rulers.40 Second, there was a rise in concern over national history both in England and in Japan; just as Edward Hall’s historiography of the Wars of the Roses and Raphael Holinshed’s Chronicles were the main sources of Shakespeare’s history plays, as we shall see in Chapter 5 that 17th-​century Japan saw the publication of histories subsequently become source books for bunraku playwrights (among these histories, The Table of the Rulers of Japan [Nihon ōdai ichiran] was the first comprehensive history of the country available to commoners). It was natural, then, in such contexts, that English and Japanese playwrights used history as a pretext for manifesting the political implication within their plays. If Shakespeare intended to overlap the troubles of King John with the conflict between England and the Catholic church or if he made use of a known parallelism between Elizabeth and Richard II to write his play,41 so the playwrights at the Takemoto-​za theatre mirrored the relationship between the Emperor and a man of power in Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy, an event that took place in the 10th century. When Blair Worden notes that “Shakespeare’s contemporaries combined their intense interest in England’s past with a preoccupation no less intense with the similarities and parallels between past and present,”42 the same could be said for the audience of bunraku history plays. Nonetheless, it is the notion of sekai that differentiates bunraku from Shakespeare’s histories, as the most distinctive feature separating the two theatres is the persistent epic component found in the former. Meanwhile for Shakespearean plays, the stress is put on how events − succession of the throne, conspiracy, and revolt − develop, that is, the focus is on drama. For bunraku, major events are evoked from the past in the form of an epic. In other words, sekai works as a frame of reference for when, where, and who is relevant, while the main focus of the play is found elsewhere − the involvement of contemporary people into the past, as Chikamatsu tried with The Soga Heir. After this piece, the dramatic world as explored by this sekai-​based dramaturgy would bear more or less a sense of parody with regard to the world it referred.

30  The dramaturgy of bunraku In this vein, we must note in passing that bunraku’s intermingling of contemporary commoner scenes with those of the nobility in the past reminds us rather of Shakespeare’s comedies than of his histories, as represented by A Midsummer Night’s Dream, in which London craftsmen appear in the court of Athens. Such analogy is possible since bunraku (and kabuki) made no distinction between comedy and tragedy (or between comedy and history). Another resemblance could be found in both history plays, which also paid the least concern to reconstructing a “correct” image of the past, hence an obvious anachronism. At any event, the bunraku playwrights’ main concern was oriented toward digression from, and not a representation of, events of foregone days  –​in other words, how to make an interesting shukō (plot) for the purpose of entertaining the audience. As early as 1687, Takemoto Gidayū (1651−1714), a great tayū (chanter) and Chikamatsu’s ally at the Takemoto-​za suggested that the bunraku play’s five-​part composition should be as follows: Part 1, love; Part 2, battle; Part 3, pathos; Part 4, lyrical travel interlude (michiyuki); and Part 5, conclusion.43 It is not necessary for the main characters to be related to all of these parts for the sake of the play’s consistency; on the contrary, it is interesting that different characters appear in different parts, sharing a loose connection with one another, or pertaining to a kind of frame narrative, in which the independent parts are contained. Finally, we must say that sekai was based on the particular cognition of time: as noted in the introduction, people in the Edo period (1603–​1868) were alien to the linear development of time. They lived in a world that changes, but never evolves. Such worldview was backed by the bakufu’s (governmental) stance that expected maintenance of the status quo, or keeping the existing social organization intact, which began from the early 17th century when the rulers realized peace after more than a century-​long civil war. Bunraku (and kabuki) sekai thus were based on the supposition of the world under a predetermined order. As a matter of fact, all history plays in early modern Japan were constructed for happy endings, or for the victory of justice. This had been the tradition since Kimpira jōruri (early bunraku plays featuring the brave warrior Kimpira and others) in the 17th century, the forerunner of the “modern” bunraku that Chikamatsu invented, which adhered to a set story pattern of good-​wins-​over-​ evil. According to Sakaguchi Hiroyuki,44 its dramatic structure was based on a “cycle of fate” in which a menace to the order is finally recovered by the efforts of righteous warriors through their difficulties and self-​sacrifice. Viewed from such an angle, the bunraku history play has a quite simple structure; without exception, after the narrator’s solemn introduction of the sekai (story world), the play begins with the opposition between the good and evil characters, and after twists and turns, the righteous people are recompensed in the end. As bunraku uses stereotyped puppets, the contrast is all the more visible from the outset. Generally speaking, the evil characters are evil throughout the play, while the honorable are honorable (in the late 18th

The dramaturgy of bunraku  31 century, Chikamatsu Hanji invented the tricky technique of using different puppet heads for the same character, however, even in such cases, the distinction between the villain and the virtuous was clearly observed). So far, no convincing account is found about the reason why bunraku authors stuck to this narrative structure. If it were not the result of their self-​ censorship (respect of order), it was possibly related to an archaic aspect of religious origin in bunraku theatre, in other words, a sense of festivity that all’s well that ends well much like in the comical tradition of Western theatre. At any event, if there is any unity of action in bunraku history plays, it is this inflexible narrative structure through which the initial disturbance to an established order is finally dispelled, accompanied by the narrator’s words of celebration concerning the return of peace. In another light, such narrative is inevitable since we cannot change the past; what happened has happened, and all that is possible after the fact is to alter its interpretation. This was what bunraku authors did, but what made their work difficult was that they tried to reevaluate the past in terms of their current concerns (although this is precisely what historians do) and the present and the past overlap. And the more they added their own accounts, the more it was difficult to accommodate such diversions in existing narratives. In proportion, as more challenging reinterpretations of the past appeared in bunraku plays, the final parts (conclusions) or restoration of the initial order became short and nominal, as if it were only a sign of predetermined harmony. The complication of bunraku history plays is related to the parallel worlds to which the past and the present belong respectively; it reflects the discrepancy of the world in which the people lived. Even though the rulers wished for society to stand still, it was exposed to unavoidable changes due to the accumulation of human activities.

Puns and dislocation Before concluding this chapter, we must briefly mention another interesting aspect of bunraku dramaturgy. As suggested above, bunraku narration has an affinity for puns, as it was a common trait for Japanese popular literature in the Edo period. Puns were used for wit, humor, irony, and criticism. However, in some plays, it is enlarged to sustain a whole dramatic structure to intrigue the audience (and readers). This technique is said to have been a favorite of Miyoshi Shōraku, one of the playwrights who produced the three masterpieces of bunraku history plays in the 1740s. In Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees, for example, a fox called Genkurō in the Yamato Province appears to help the hero, Yoshitsune. Why should the fox appear in this particular play? Because one of Yoshitsune’s aliases in Chinese ideograms reads as Genkurō. Based on this naming coincidence, Shōraku invented a lengthy plot in which Yoshitsune’s faithful vassal (Tadanobu) and a fox transformed into Tadanobu are mistaken

32  The dramaturgy of bunraku for one another, leading to a heartwarming communion between Yoshitsune and the fox: the scene of Fox Tadanobu, which is renowned both in bunraku and kabuki. Puns as dramaturgy was not simply Shōraku’s inclination. It was Chikamatsu who made use of it in an extraordinary way. The Courtesans in Shimabara and the Battle of Frogs (Keisei Shimabara Kaeru Gassen, 1719)45 presupposes a pun upon the place name Shimabara. Shimabara was a name of the pleasure quarter on the outskirts of Kyoto, built in the early 17th century. The pleasure quarter was also known for a genre of kabuki stage (Shimabara kyōgen) in the mid-​17th century that “realistically” represented the men’s flirtation with courtesans. At the same time, Shimabara is the name of the Shimabara Peninsula on the west coast of the Kyūshū island where the great uprising of Japanese Christians took place in 1637. After the insurgence, Christianity was uprooted in the country and considered as poisonous heresy.46 Dramaturgically speaking, Chikamatsu’s play is unique in the development of its plot through verbal associations; two places called Shimabara, with completely different backgrounds, are intermingled in the author’s imagination, and the heterogeneous lines of stories and characters are combined as if the play were a kind of dream. First, Chikamatsu sets his story world in the 12th century when the Shogun Yoritomo sent his troops to annihilate his opponents in the north of Japan. The plot develops in the aftermath of the campaign as a survivor of the defeated troops, Nanakusa Shirō, hides in Kyoto and propagates his enigmatic religion, finally to rebel with his believers against the shogun and the Emperor (i.e., against the Japanese regime) in a castle in Kyūshū, which is reminiscent of the outbreak of the Christians. Nanakusa Shirō is apparently named after Amakusa Shirō who was considered a spiritual leader of the Shimabara rebellion in 1637. The plot is related to Shimabara in Kyoto through two courtesans of the pleasure quarter who are involved in Shirō’s scheme. Sarashina is a top-​ rank courtesan whose freedom is bought by Shirō. Shirō, on the other hand, demands Sarashina’s parents to convert to his heresy religion in exchange for having freed her. Caught in this dilemma, Sarashina’s father kills himself. Sarashina, in her turn, is in love with a young samurai named Genroku, who has been disowned by his father for frequenting the “bad place.” Another courtesan, Karakoto, is in fact the disguised Princess Biwa-​hime in search of her lover. She is Genroku’s sister, and their father has committed suicide to assume responsibility for having failed at killing Shirō in the previous campaign. Consequently, the two courtesans must take revenge on Shirō. Chikamatsu’s intentions lie less in the revenge and love stories of the two courtesans than the evocation of a national disturbance that befell the people eight decades before his age. In fact, the play starts from an interpretation of the Emperor’s dream by one of the shogun’s vassals. In the dream, a mysterious figure in heaven pours a rainbow from his mouth and makes golden

The dramaturgy of bunraku  33 flowers bloom on earth. The vassal indicates that it is an omen of national warfare led by a stranger gathering people through heretic beliefs, the seemingly glorious vision being witchcraft. The premonition is further embodied as a battle of innumerable frogs (toads) displayed before the palace of the Emperor, or an image of a weird hermit controlling grotesque toads. However, behind such allegorical scenes is some sense of realism. Shirō and his followers invite commoners into the heresy, preaching that no poor people have ever become rich through the help of Buddhist sermons, and that Buddhism is a fallacy. And in the scene where rebels, cornered in the castle, surrender one after another, they say they “fall down” (korobu), which meant abandoning the Christian faith (though in history surrendered [koronda] Christians in the castle of Shimabara were slaughtered by the bakufu’s soldiers). While Chikamatsu and his contemporaries had no way of knowing about the doctrine of Christianity after several decades of the government educating the people that it was a fearful and monstrous teaching, the play exemplifies the image of “otherness” for the Edo people; there had existed (and maybe still exists) something beyond the comprehension of those who had been tamed by the regime. As we will see, the figure of Shirō, who merged together the vague image of a horrible Christian with that of a stranger with magical power, was repeatedly adopted by subsequent bunraku and kabuki pieces. Chikamatsu was conscious of his method of unfolding his drama using homonyms. The technique could be found in the tradition of pivot words (kakekotoba) in Japanese poetry (waka). As an enlightening study by Shinoda Jun’ichi illustrates,47 Chikamatsu’s later masterwork The Love Suicides at Amijima (1721)48 is constructed on the keyword “kami” (paper) not only because the hero, Kamiya Jihei, is engaged in the paper trade but also because “kami” signifies the god (of death) to whom the desperate paper merchant and courtesan (Koharu) are attracted. Before killing themselves, they cut off their hair (kami), as a Buddhist sign of abandoning the land of the living. At the same time, paper refers to letters (fumi) of oath exchanged between the couple for their love, as well as those that Jihei makes at the request of his brother to give up Koharu. The truth contained in these letters is meanwhile “trampled” (fumi /​ fumu) by Jihei who is at one point jealous of his lover and at another, treacherous to own his words. Such dramaturgy starting from word play did not appear, as far as we know, in Western theatre before surrealism. The simplest example of it is La Place de l’Etoile (1927) by Robert Desnos (1900−1945), in which the famous road junction in Paris called the Star (l’Etoile) is linked with the image of the starfish (l’étoile de mer), which appear one after another on stage.49 Raymond Roussel (1877−1933), on the other hand, uses “le procédé” (the procedure) to write his novels based on some core phrases (Textes-​Genèse) for producing poetic but eccentric word play;50 some of these works have been adapted to theatre with curious textual visualizations.

34  The dramaturgy of bunraku While bunraku dramaturgy uses homonyms and verbal associations, it is not as methodical as Roussel’s and sometimes even seems childish (though “the procedure” of Roussel is also marked with infantilism). This underlines its antirealistic nature; bunraku plays, whether they are domestic (hence apparently realistic) plays or history plays, should be placed somewhere between reality and fantasy, or in the realm of puppets. Their world is as improbable as it is absurd, just as our minds are composed of a bright sphere of reason, but are also surrounded by a dark, subconscious underworld.51

Notes 1 Charles J. Dunn (1966, p. 70). 2 There are two versions of Keene’s translation of the play: the 1971 version (which first appeared in 1951) and the 1990 version (first appeared in 1961). We refer here to the former as it includes an exhaustive study of the play. Keene, (1971a, 1990). 3 Keene (1971a, p. 123). CZ 9, pp. 675–​676. 4 Ibid. 5 In Japanese text, these terms are not parenthesized. We did this in this text to stress that they are specific indicators. Furthermore, for the convenience of English readers, we use simplified notations of tune indicators, following the text annotated by Shuzui Kenji and Ōkubo Tadakuni (1959, p.  252). Gerstle, on the other hand, translates indicators (kyokusetsu) as musical notations. See Gerstle (1986, Glossary B). 6 Bunraku texts sometimes use traditional seven-​five syllable meters (of waka and haiku poetry), but it is not obligatory. 7 However, we must excuse Keene for omitting tune indicators in his translation as it is quite challenging to assign them properly; the order of indicators corresponds to that of words and phrases in Japanese text but they must be changed in translation, hence affecting the musical order. The passage given above with indicators is a simple example for illustration. Against such difficulties, Gerstle tried to add musical notations in his translation of Chikamatsu’s works. See Gerstle (1986, pp 39–​62,  2001). 8 Gerstle (1986, p. 47). 9 Keene (1971a, p. 100). 10 In the 1990 version of Keene’s translation, the scene is renamed as “The Bamboo Forest of a Thousand Leagues” (1990, p. 223). 11 Keene (1971a, p. 123). CZ 9, p. 675. The tune indicators are ours. 12 Keene (1971a, p. 100). 13 See, for example, Roy Sommer “Drama and Narrative.” In David Herman et al. (2005, pp. 119–​124). 14 Keene (1971a, p. 101). 15 The passage is found in Naniwa miyage, a record of Chikamatsu’s words compiled by Hozumi Koretsura. See Shuzui and Ōkubo (1959, p. 356). 16 Bunraku allows female chanters. 17 Keene (1971a, p. 114). CZ 9, p. 658. 18 Ibid., p.  115. CZ 9, p.  659. In the 1990 version, the passage is translated as follows:  Sleeplessly I  all alone spend-​the-​night shell. For whom do I  wait shell? I  forget-​ shell that people-​ may-​ see-​ shell, and only dream of how, when lying together in bed-​shell, the joy of marriage will sink-​shell into our hearts … Keene, 1990, p. 213.

The dramaturgy of bunraku  35 19 Keene (1971b, p. 78). Takeda Izumo II et al. (1985, p. 205). We omit the separation of characters (Narrator and Kampei). 20 The passage exists in the kabuki version of Chūshingura as the narration. However, it does not help the player’s acting, being a residual text adapted from bunraku. 21 Ibid. 22 Ibid. 23 Ibid., p. 98. Takeda Izumo II et al. (1985, p. 227). 24 Ibid., p. 100. Takeda Izumo II et al. (1985, p. 229). 25 Ibid., p. 102. Takeda Izumo II et al. (1985, p. 232). 26 Ibid., p. 100. Takeda Izumo II et al. (1985, p. 229). 27 Roland Barthes (1982, p. 54). 28 Jones (1993, p. 157). Takeda Izumo II et al. (1991, p. 471). 29 Ansgar Nünning, “Reliability.” In Herman et al. (2005, pp. 495–​496). 30 Jones (1993, p. 162). Takeda Izumo II et al. (1985, p. 473). 31 CZ 4. 32 Torigoe Bunzō (2003, p. 11). 33 Keene (1971a, p. 30). 34 CZ 1. 35 For a detailed analysis of the play, see Gerstle (1986, p. 71). 36 Scholars are divided on this point; while Uchiyama Mikiko, as well as Suwa Haruo, recognize that Chikamatsu was indeed conscious of such a notion, Ōhashi Tadayoshi, in his recent study, maintains a skeptical viewpoint. Uchiyama (1976, p. 119); Suwa (1986, p. 91); and Ōhashi (2019, p. 356). 37 For Kezairoku, see Katherine Saltzman-​Li (2010). 38 Dan Shen, “story-​discourse distinction.” In Herman et al. (2005, p. 566). 39 A. J. Hoenselaars (2002, p. 29). 40 For an English account of the Edo government’s censorship concerning theatre, see Donald H. Shively (1982, p. 25). 41 Irving Ribner (1957, p. 144); S. Schoenbaum (2004, p. 101). 42 Blair Worden (2004, p. 33). 43 Geinōshi kenkyūkai (1975, Vol. 7, pp. 130–​134). For an English account of Gidayū’s idea, see Gerstle (1986, p. 192). 44 Sakaguchi Hiroyuki (1988, p. 91). 45 CZ 11. The English title is ours. 46 The reason why Christianity was repulsed (or feared) by Japanese authorities is beyond the scope of the present study; however, it was certainly related to an antipathy toward the monotheistic system of values. 47 Shinoda Jun’ichi (1989, p. 179). 48 CZ 11. 49 Robert Desnos (1947). 50 For the procedure of Raymond Roussel, see François Caradec (2001, p. 62). 51 We note in passing that the dramaturgy based on puns is found also in works by modern Japanese playwrights such as Kara Jūrō (1940−) and Noda Hideki (1955−).

Bibliography Barthes, Roland. 1982. Empire of Signs. Translated by Richard Howard. London: Jonathan Cape. Caradec, François. 2001. Raymond Roussel. Translated by Ian Monk. London: Atlas Press. (Published in French in 1997.)

36  The dramaturgy of bunraku Desnos, Robert. 1927. La Place de l’Etoile:  Antipoème en 9 tableaux. Available as e-​text: http://​bljd.sorbonne.fr/​ark:/​naan/​a011441804309UvlWEG/​d9e0cf3027. Dunn, Charles J. 1966. The Early Japanese Puppet Drama. London: Luzac. Geinōshi kenkyūkai [Research Group on the Japanese Performing Arts], ed. 1975. Nihon shomin bunka shiryō shūsei [Collection of Literature Concerning Japanese Commoners’ Culture] Vol. 7: Ningyō jōruri [Bunraku Puppet Plays]. Tokyo: San’ichi shobō. Gerstle, C. Andrew. 1986. Circles of Fantasy: Convention in the Plays of Chikamatsu. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. —​ —​ —​ , trans. & annot. 2001. Chikamatsu 5 Later Plays. New  York:  Columbia University Press. Herman, David, Manfred Jahn, and Marie-​ Laure Ryan, ed. 2005. Routledge Encyclopedia of Narrative Theory. London: Routledge. Hoenselaars, A. J. 2002. “Shakespeare and the Early Modern History Play.” In The Cambridge Companion to Shakespeare’s History Plays:  25–​40, edited by Michael Hattway. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Jones, Stanleigh H. Jr., trans. & annot. 1993. Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees:  A Masterpiece of the Eighteenth Century Japanese Puppet Theater. New York: Columbia University Press. Keene, Donald, trans. & annot. 1971a. The Battles of Coxinga: Chikamatsu’s Puppet Play, Its Background and Importance. Cambridge:  Cambridge University Press. (First published in 1951.) —​ —​ —​ , trans. & annot. 1971b. Chūshingura [The Treasury of Loyal Retainers]. New York: Columbia University Press. —​—​—​, trans. 1990. “The Battles of Coxinga.” In Major Plays of Chikamatsu. New York: Columbia University Press. (First published in 1961.) Ōhashi Tadayoshi. 2019. Chikamatsu jōruri no seiritsu [The Formation of Chikamatsu’s Bunraku Plays]. Tokyo: Yagi shoten. Ribner, Irving. 1957. The English History Play in the Age of Shakespeare. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Sakaguchi Hiroyuki. 1988. “Ningyō jōruri no seiritsu [The Formation of Bunraku].” In Nihon bungeishi [History of Japanese Literature], Vol. 4: 87–​91, edited by Hara Michio and Hayashi Tatsuya. Tokyo: Kawadeshobō shinsha. Saltzman-​Li, Katherine. 2010. Creating Kabuki Plays. Context for Kezairoku, ‘Valuable Notes on Playwriting.’ Leiden: Brill. Schoenbaum, S. 2004. “Richard II and the Realities of Power.” In Shakespeare and Politics:  91–​ 109, edited by Catherine M. Alexander. Cambridge:  Cambridge University Press. Shinoda Jun’ichi. 1989. “Sakuhin kaishaku no mondaiten:  Shinjū ten’no amijima [Problems of Interpretation:  The Love Suicides at Amijima].” In Chikamatsu eno shōtai [Introduction to Chikamatsu]:  152–​235, edited by Torigoe Bunzō et  al. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. Shively, Donald H. 1982. “Tokugawa Plays on Forbidden Topics.” In Chūshingura. Studies in Kabuki and the Puppet Theatre:  23–​57, edited by James R. Brandon. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press. Shuzui Kenji and Ōkubo Tadakuni, annot. 1959. Chikamatsu jōrurishū [Bunraku Plays by Chikamatsu], Vol. 2. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. Suwa Haruo. 1986. Kinsei Gikyokushi josetsu [Introduction to the Dramaturgical History of Early Modern Theatre]. Tokyo: Hakusuisha.

The dramaturgy of bunraku  37 Takeda Izumo II, Namiki Senryū, and Miyoshi Shōraku. 1985. “Kanadehon Chūshingura [The Treasury of Loyal Retainers].” Annotated by Tsuchida Mamoru. In Jōruri-​shū [Bunraku Plays]. Shinchō Nihon Koten Shūsei [Shinchō Collection of Japanese Classic Literature]. Tokyo: Shinchōsha. —​—​—​. 1991. “Yoshitsune senbon zakura [Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees].” Annotated by Tsunoda Ichirō and Uchiyama Mikiko. In Shin Nihon koten bungaku taikei [New Collection of Japanese Classsic Literature], Vol. 93. Tokyo: Shōgakukan. Torigoe Bunzō. 2003. “Sekai ni hirogaru Chikamatsu [Chikamatsu in a Worldwide Context].” In Chikamatsu Monzaemon sanbyaku gojyūnen [350 Years of Chikamatsu Monzaemon]:  10–​ 14, edited by Chikamatsu seitan sanbyaku gojyusshūnen Chikamatsu matsuri kikaku jikkōiinnkai [Executive Committee for the Chikamatsu Festival Commemorating the 350th Anniversary of Chikamatsu’s Birth]. Osaka: Izumi shoin. Uchiyama Mikiko. 1976. “Chikamatsu no doramaturugi [The Dramaturgy of Chikamatsu].” In Nihon bungaku kenkyū shiryō sōsho: Chikamatsu [Collection of Japanese Literature Research Materials:  Chikamatsu]:  119–​125, edited by Nihon bungaku kenkyū shiryō kankōkai [The Editorial Board for Publishing Japanese Literature Research Materials]. Tokyo: Yūseidō. Worden, Blair. 2004. “Shakespeare and Politics.” In Shakespeare and Politics: 22–​43, edited by Catherine M. Alexander. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

2  The Battles of Coxinga The self-​image of early modern Japan

The Battles of Coxinga, besides being a piece of well-​made entertainment, is a touchstone for probing the formation of early modern Japanese nationalism. An exploration of the historical background of Coxinga and the international context in which Japan found itself reveals that Japan was not as secluded as policies at the time may lead us to believe. And a reading of Chikamatsu’s Coxinga trilogy suggests the hero’s sense of righteousness could easily turn into self-​righteousness, such process possibly being a reflecion of the notion of a Japan-​centered order.

Japan in the political context of the eastern Asian waters In 1690, Engelbert Kaempfer (1651–​1716), a German naturalist and physician, landed in Japan (at the port of Nagasaki) after a seven-year journey that started from Stockholm and crossed through Moscow, Baku (Azerbaijan), Isfahan (Persia), and Batavia (Java). As he would later note in his History of Japan, one of the motives for his adventure was that he had always felt uneasy due to the religious intolerance in Europe after the Thirty Years’ War (1618–​1648). He was impressed by the peacefulness of Japanese society and attributed it to the shogunal government’s seclusionist policy.1 However, the waters surrounding the islands were flowing inexorably toward early-​stage global capitalism, as can be seen in the activities of the VOC (Vereenigde Oost-​indisch Compagnie: Dutch East India Company). It was a VOC vessel that Kaempfer embarked on in Batavia to visit the “closed” country. The VOC monopolized the spice trade in the Javanese interior, and they had little compunction about enslaving or even massacring natives under the understanding that all’s fair in a game of imperialistic savagery that paid no heed to national borders.2 In fact, Japanese mercenaries were hired by the Dutch at the beginning of the 17th century. In the East China Sea, the Chinese Ming dynasty had become extremely aquaphobic since the 16th century. And while the surrounding countries and regions, including Japan and the coastal regions of China, were eager for trades overseas, the Ming prohibited private seaborne trade. As a result, smuggling became prevalent in the East China Sea. As the Chinese authorities uniformly branded these

The Battles of Coxinga  39 smugglers as pirates, the sea seemingly brimmed with maritime outlaws. In the end, European traders –​first the Portuguese, then the Dutch –​collaborated with these outlaws because it was the only possible way to trade with the Chinese mainland. It is in this international context that the historical facts surrounding The Battles of Coxinga are found. The play’s hero is Coxinga, whose father (Zheng Zhilong or Nicholas Iquan, said to have been baptized in Macao)3 was a Chinese merchant-​pirate who had a base on Hirado Island at the western end of Japan. Hirado was separated by only 500 miles of sea from Shanghai (although the city was not yet constructed at that time) and was equally 500 miles from Osaka. Differences in nationality were entirely beside the point around the East China Sea between the 15th and 17th centuries. The East China Sea constituted a great international basin (like the North Sea surrounded by Britain, Holland, Denmark, and Norway) that accommodated merchant-​pirates of different cultural backgrounds. This was also the case with Nicholas Iquan: while he controlled a private military force in the Fujian Province in China, near the Taiwan strait, he was also protected by a lord on Hirado Island. This is why his son Coxinga (1624–​1662), whose proper name is Zheng Chenggong, was born from a Japanese mother. When the Ming dynasty collapsed in 1644, both father and son were serving a prince from the fallen dynasty in the southern provinces, which were resisting the Manchu invasion. In so doing, Zheng Chenggong was allowed to bear the imperial family name, hence his title of Coxinga, which means “lord of the imperial surname.” However, resistance became increasingly difficult as the Manchus moved to establish the Qing dynasty in China. Even his father surrendered to the new rulers and his Japanese mother, who crossed over to China, is said to have killed herself for fear of captivity.4 In 1662, Coxinga and his troops finally took refuge in Taiwan, expelling the Dutch who had been based in the southern part of the island. The Zheng’s rule over Taiwan continued until 1683 when it was incorporated into the Qing dynasty. The Battles of Coxinga (Kokusen’ya kassen) was first performed in 1715, some 50  years after the end of Coxinga’s resistance. In the meantime, the Far Eastern Seas had greatly changed. Following the chaos caused by the Japanese invasion of Korea at the end of the 16th century and the dynastic change in China in the 17th century, the three countries (China, Korea, and Japan) had adopted seclusionist policies with varying degrees of severity. In Japan in 1635, the shogunal government prohibited their subjects from going abroad and refused the return of those who had settled overseas, mainly for preventing the propagation of Christianity. Three years later, it severed trade links with the Portuguese, making the Dutch and the Chinese the only authorized international traders. Historians today, however, do not consider Japan in this period to have been closed to international affairs.5 Japan restored diplomatic relations with Korea after the invasion initiated by its preceding ruler, Toyotomi Hideyoshi. The shogun also proposed friendly relations with the Netherlands based solely

40  The Battles of Coxinga on business, which was inconceivable for the Portuguese and Spanish who had always intermingled missionary activities with trade. Although the shogun could not establish an official relationship with the Qing dynasty  –​since approaching China on a diplomatic basis would require Japan to participate in the Sinocentric tributary system –​the Qing tacitly allowed their merchants to call at the Japanese port of Nagasaki. Japan also indirectly traded with China via the Ryūkyū (Okinawa) kingdom, which was subject to both the shogunate and the Qing dynasty. As previously mentioned, the Dutch also regularly visited the port. Chinese and Dutch ships flocked to Nagasaki seeking silver and copper. From the late 16th century, Japan compared to South America as a global source of silver production, and China was definitely in need of silver to sustain their economic development.6 In exchange, Japan imported large amounts of silk from both Chinese and Dutch traders for their high-​class samurai and rich merchants. It was a lucrative business for both the Chinese and Dutch and so they submitted to the Japanese government’s orders to stay in small segregated quarters of Nagasaki. (Later, in the early 18th century, Arai Hakuseki [1657–​1725], the brains behind the shogun, adopted a mercantile view that it was unreasonable to exchange domestic precious metals with foreign consumables such as silk and changed the trade policy; his politics influenced Chikamatsu’s works.) These facts demonstrate that, as opposed to isolating the country, the shogunal government’s intentions were to segregate the country from the “infection” of Christianity, bring foreign policy and international trade under their control, and exclude feudal lords from international business. Besides, it was Kaempfer who first described Japan as a “closed” country, and there is no evidence that the shogunal bureaucrats thought their country was secluded from the world.7 That said, the ordinary Japanese were virtually deprived of contact with foreigners in their daily lives. So, the Japanese became all the more excited whenever the rare chance of seeing foreigners arose. This was what occurred when Korean emissaries would pay courtesy visits to Japan whenever a new shogun was inaugurated. When traveling by land, the Korean party of about 500 persons would parade through Osaka and Kyoto to the capital (Edo) with costumes and music that appeared quite “exotic” to Japanese spectators. When one such delegation arrived at Osaka in the late 18th century, it was reported that both banks of the river where the Korean ships sailed were packed with Japanese spectators gathered from the city and surrounding rural areas. Not only was their arrival reported by popular newssheets (kawaraban), they were also drawn in various illustrations.8 If the Dutch delegation seems to have aroused less enthusiasm from the Japanese, it was only because they were smaller in number and customarily visited the shogun in the capital every spring from 1633 to 1790. The Dutch were therefore not so novel, while the Korean emissary’s expeditions were sporadic and made in intervals that ranged from several years to decades. The Dutch delegation nonetheless also attracted a crowd, for example, when they

The Battles of Coxinga  41 toured a copper refinery in Osaka. Such visits were customary for them as they were interested in the trade of the metal.9 Chikamatsu (born in 1653) was a contemporary of Kaempfer and it is likely that, as a keen observer of society, he had heard about, or even went to see, the Dutch delegation. When the German naturalist visited Kyoto on his way to the capital in 1691, the Japanese playwright, who was living in Kyoto at the time, was making a name for himself as a kabuki playwright. Kaempfer’s collections from his stays in Japan contain several books on bunraku (jōruri), although his writings lack any evidence that he actually saw a stage performance (scholars believe that he acquired these books as historical documents).10 However, a record from the late 18th century testifies that the Dutch delegation was given the freedom to go to the theatre in Osaka on their return from the capital.11 Besides these visible links with foreigners, there were also clandestine exchanges; as a matter of fact, smuggling by Japanese merchants had not completely disappeared into the Japanese waters. It is more than plausible that Chikamatsu gathered overseas information from such sources because, as we shall see below, he dramatized smugglers in one of his sewa-​mono tragedies.12 Furthermore, in 1708, the Italian missionary Giovanni Battista Sidotti (1668–​ 1714) was arrested for illegal entry into one of Japan’s southern islands. He was transferred to the capital to be interrogated by the abovementioned Hakuseki. Noteworthy here, however, is that Sidotti could speak Japanese, albeit imperfectly. Where did he learn the tongue? It seems that descendants

Figure 2.1 Dutch delegate watching karakuri (mechanically devised) bunraku stage in the late 18th century. Osaka Municipal Library.

42  The Battles of Coxinga of the Japanese, who had been banished from the country, had taught him in Luzon, in the Philippines.13 In fact, there were still many people of Japanese origin in Southeast Asia in the late 17th century. Japan at the turn of the century was therefore not cut off from the surrounding waters.

The Battles of Coxinga as a space opera In 1715, Chikamatsu, aged 63, was enduring difficult times in his management of the Takemoto-​za. The year before, his partner Takemoto Gidayū (Takemoto Chikugono-​jō, 1651–​1714), who had renewed traditional bunraku with his chanting style, had died. The top chanter, Takemoto Masatayū, succeeding him was only 25 years old. Despite the remarkable productions that had been realized by the great playwright and the late gifted chanter, the Takemoto-​za’s financial situation was precarious due to severe competition with their rival, the Toyotake-​za theatre. Chikamatsu needed to create another box-​office success for the theatre to remain viable. Consequently, he and Takeda Izumo I, who had assumed the position of theatre manager in 1705, adopted an integrated approach to bunraku history plays, both in form and content. Concerning form, Chikamatsu consolidated the five-​ part (dan) structure of the history play, eliminating the comic interludes played between parts. Both the five-​part composition of bunraku history plays and the tradition of inserting comic interludes between each part were reminiscent of the five-​play program of Noh theatrical conventions. As noted in Chapter  1, Takemoto Gidayū had proposed that the five parts of bunraku focus on the following subject matters:  love in the first part, battle in the second, tragedy (lamentation) in the third, a lyrical travel interlude (michiyuki) in the fourth, and celebration in the fifth. However, it was Chikamatsu who fully realized the canon with The Battles of Coxinga, introducing a new unity of dramatic action that penetrated through these five parts. As for content, The Battles of Coxinga was the first time that exoticism had been deployed at this scale in Japanese theatre. To be certain, Coxinga’s story had been dramatized before Chikamatsu in A Diary of Coxinga’s Achievements (Kokusen’ya tegara nikki) by Nishiki Bunryū in 1701.14 In the story, two brave Japanese brothers, at the request of a Chinese princess, go to China to defeat the Tartars (the Manchus) who were menacing the kingdom. While Chikamatsu is thought to have known this play,15 he further developed the story, borrowing his framework from the historical document Account of the Battles of the Ming and Qing (Min-​Shin tōki) compiled in 1661.16 As has already been pointed out, The Battles of Coxinga is constructed using the existing ideas and devices of Chikamatsu and others.17 It tries not to bore the audience even for a single minute. As a result, the play is rich in effectively deployed plot devices:  betrayal, the siege of a castle, allegory, tiger hunting, fabulous bravery, self-​sacrifice, a mysterious journey, celestial beings, play within a play, a final battle, and grand finale. In other words, it is a spectacular, early-​modern space opera in the sense that an adventurous

The Battles of Coxinga  43 imagination is projected onto the outer world. Neither should we overlook the ways in which Takeda Izumo I must have greatly contributed as a producer to the construction of this dramatic world. Now we will take a closer look at each part of the play. Part 1: Love. In the court of the Ming dynasty, the Emperor is surrounded by several empresses and innumerable concubines. It is the typical image of Chinese concupiscent magnificence. Among them, the most beloved empress is expected to bear an imperial heir. At the same time, the court receives an envoy from the aggressive Tartars (Manchus) who brings a message from their monarch asking for the hand of the beloved empress. Ri Tōten, the Emperor’s general, advises his Highness to accept their demand as a return for the favor shown to them by the Tartars in the past. When his suggestion is rejected by the righteous opposition of another general Go Sankei (historically known as Wu Sangui), the furious Ri gouges out his own left eye (it is a puppet play) to recompense the displeased Tartars. The Emperor, moved by Ri’s sincerity, then urges his beautiful sister, Princess Sendan, to be married to the Barbarian King. With this aim in mind, he organizes a “flower battle” fought between the court ladies brandishing branches of cherry and plum blossoms. If the plum loses (so contrived by the Emperor), the Princess must go. Go Sankei, again, reproaches the Emperor for this frivolity and is chastised. In the meantime, there is a real war, as the court is invaded by the Tartars who have joined forces with the treacherous Ri Tōten. Go Sankei fights valiantly, but the Emperor and the expectant empress are killed by the enemy. All that the brave general can do is to save the premature baby from the dead mother’s belly, inserting in its place his own baby, who he has killed for that sake. Princess Sendan, on the other hand, left alone in the turmoil, sets sail to the ocean. Part  2:  Battle. A  young couple, Watōnai and his wife Komutsu, walks along the Hirado Island shore. Watōnai is the son of old Iquan (Ikkan in Japanese) who had left the corrupted Chinese court some 20  years before. The son is half Japanese (wa) and half Chinese (tō), hence his name (“neither Chinese nor Japanese,” as nai means “not”). When the couple sees a bird (snipe) struggle to break open the shell of a clam, completely oblivious to the onlookers, Watōnai, who has been studying military tactics at his father’s orders, grasps the strategic axiom of “profiting while others fight” and dreams of conquering war-​torn China with the intervention of a third party. At this moment, Princess Sendan’s boat is washed ashore. Watōnai decides to go help the dynasty and persuades Komutsu, who is jealous of the princess’ beauty, to let the lady stay with her in Japan. Old Iquan and his wife, informed of the princess’ arrival, also take passage to China. After landing on the continent, Iquan departs in search of his daughter, who he had left when she was just a child and who he hears is now married to General Kanki, who had joined the Tartars after the decline of the dynasty. As for Watōnai and his mother, they are lost in a vast bamboo forest where they discover a fierce tiger. Watōnai not only frightens the beast but also defeats a company

44  The Battles of Coxinga of beaters dispatched by Ri Tōten to catch the tiger. The surrendered soldiers then become Watōnai’s followers. Part 3: Tragedy (lamentation). Watōnai, old Iquan, and his wife arrive at the castle gate, where General Kanki has strengthened his defenses. They are not allowed to enter because the general is absent and they are from Japan. However, Kanki’s wife, Kinshōjo, recognizes her father from a portrait she has kept and permits Watōnai’s mother to enter the castle to persuade Kanki. When the general returns, he sympathizes with old Iquan and Watōnai’s case; however, he refuses to change sides because, if he does, his actions may be interpreted as having been driven from his affection for his wife (jō) rather than loyalty (gi) to the Ming dynasty. To solve this dilemma, the general tries to stab his wife, while her mother-​in-​law fends him off because Japanese motherhood prohibits her from leaving her stepdaughter to die. Outside, Watōnai is gazing at the stream that flows out from the castle. If the water is stained white, it would signal that his mother’s persuasion has succeeded; if it is red, it has failed. Seeing the water turning red, he rushes into the castle to face the general. It is, however, Kinshōjo’s blood; she had killed herself to relieve her husband from his impasse. Awed by this act of self-​sacrifice, the two brave men agree to cooperate, and Kanki allows Watōnai to be called Coxinga (Kokusen’ya). At this moment, Watōnai’s mother also commits suicide in recompense for having dishonored herself as a Japanese mother by permitting her Chinese stepdaughter to be sacrificed. Watōnai and Kanki swear revenge on the Tartars for the dead women. Part  4:  Lyrical travel interlude (michiyuki). On Hirado Island, Komutsu hears of her husband Coxinga’s feats and is waiting for a ship to return Princess Sendan to China. The deity of navigation Sumiyoshi reveals to her that it is time to go overseas, and Komutsu and the Princess start on their voyage, guided by a little boy who is the incarnation of Sumiyoshi. Looking over the islands in the sea separating Japan from China, they are miraculously transported to Zungou (or Songjiang, which is now part of Shanghai). The scene then turns to somewhere deep in the mountains, where General Go Sankei has protected the fallen dynasty’s infant crown prince for the past two years. As he climbs up a high mountain, he encounters two very old men playing a board game (game of go). Every event in the world is played on the board. The intrigued general is invited to see how Coxinga captures enemy castles. He is later told that five years have passed while he has been watching this vision. Surprised, Go Sankei further has the good fortune of running into his former colleague, old Iquan, accompanying Princess Sendan. A  Tartar general and his troops appear in pursuit of the Princess and are instantaneously annihilated by the tactics of the two generals. Part 5: Celebration. Coxinga, Kanki, and Go Sankei, as well as Princess Sendan and Komutsu, are now in service to the young Emperor. The generals are preparing for the final battle with the Tartars. In the meantime, old Iquan, knowing he is too old to fight, proposes a reckless single combat with the dastardly enemy general Ri Tōten at the gate of Nanjing castle, only

The Battles of Coxinga  45 to be taken as hostage. When the besieging army approaches the castle, Ri Tōten uses the old man as a shield and demands Coxinga to make the ultimate choice: the life of his father or withdrawal. However, Kanki and Go Sankei’s strategy allows them to break through and capture the Tartar King and Ri Tōten. When Coxinga and his comrades execute the deadly Ri and expel the Barbarian King from the country, the triumphant army cheers for the restoration of the Ming dynasty. While, to the modern eye, it is doubtful whether the five parts precisely correspond to the assigned themes (does Part 1, e.g., contains as much war scenes as those of love?), The Battles of Coxinga certainly follows the formula for a successful adventure drama: evil dislocates an initial order and dismisses the good characters into the margins. A hero then appears, gradually revealing his power. When he encounters a fellow fighter who could be his right-​hand, the situation turns around; good becomes increasingly commanding while evil, driven into a corner, is represented by one person. Finally, a confrontation between the hero and the villain is realized and order is restored. In the course of this drama, the audience encounters tricks, battles, sacrifices, fantasy, and laughs. In the case of Chikamatsu’s work, the battle scenes of fighters destroying numerous enemy soldiers can be easily exaggerated because they are played by puppets, which also make the scenes comic. This comic effect reaches its peak at the end of Part 4 when Go Sankei smashes the head of a Tartar general with a heavy go board he snatches, using it as mere arms, even though it was treated as a mysterious object in the preceding scene. Coxinga’s conquest of the castle, shown as a board game between the two immortals, is an interesting play within a play in puppet theatre. Although the performance text provides us with no clues, it is believed to have been performed using some mechanical devices –​one of Takeda Izumo I’s strengths as a producer –​that remind us of the use of special effects in modern movies. The play even evokes an erotic connotation during Watōnai and Komutsu’s walk along the shore, where they find various kinds of shellfish sucking their “lovers,” suggesting the couple’s carnal relationship in the fashion of shunga.

Chikamatsu’s political consciousness In Chikamatsu’s play, differences between Japan and China are repeatedly stressed. Ethnic differences such as language, fashion, and food are presented for comic effects in scenes such as when Princess Sendan is washed ashore on Hirado Island and Watōnai speaks in parodied Chinese or when Watōnai’s mother is bewildered by the “grotesque” Chinese dishes served at Kanki’s castle. Elsewhere, the contrast between the two countries in terms of their history and faith accentuates the Japanese hero’s bravery. When Watōnai confronts the tiger, for e­ xample –​the scene is, by the way, reminiscent of a famous tiger hunt in northern Korea by Katō Kiyomasa, a dauntless general who invaded Korea under Hideyoshi’s orders in the late 16th century (the

46  The Battles of Coxinga anecdote being well known to the audience) –​his mother encourages him by saying that he was born in divine Japan and is therefore protected by the god of Ise (the most important deity of Shintoism). In the play within the play in which Coxinga attacks a Tartar castle, his tactics are narrated by referring to historic Japanese warriors. This adventure drama is thus highly melodramatic in terms of the opposition between good and evil and in the contraposition of the familiar with the exotic. It is, however, too hasty to conclude that it is simply well-​made entertainment with nationalistic traits, since Japan at that time was not unified as a nation and its inhabitants presumably had only a vague notion of Japan as a country (and that only thanks to the surrounding waters). We must therefore examine what the play’s recurring reference to Japan signifies. This first requires a consideration of Chikamatsu’s political consciousness as it was reflected in his dramas. As his biography indicates, Chikamatsu was a man of liminalities. He was born in the house of a warrior in the Echizen Province (northeast of Kyoto); however, during his childhood, his father left his service for reasons unknown and the family moved to Kyoto. Young Chikamatsu served several aristocrats there, the most famous of whom was Ichijō Ekan (1605–​1672), Emperor Go-Mizuno’o’s younger brother. Then around the 1680s, he began to work in the margins of society as a bunraku (joruri) playwright. It is by no means incidental that his career reflects the three spheres of bunraku history plays:  warriors, aristocrats, and commoners. He belonged to none of these classes, hence his famous self-​mockery in his testament: Although born into an old samurai family, I left the warrior’s life behind. I served in courtier houses but never received any rank. I wandered about in the marketplace but knew no trade. I appeared to be recluse but wasn’t; I was thought to have been clever but wasn’t; although considered to have been erudite, I knew nothing.18 He was certainly proud of his warrior origins (this is why he became the first playwright to leave his name in published bunraku texts), but once outcast, there was no way to retrieve his previous status. However, he could not be indifferent to the politics exercised by the ruling class, to which he had belonged, because these policies adopted by warriors had explicit influence over people’s lives, including Chikamatsu’s own. His critical view on the contemporary administration is reflected, by different degrees, in his plays, especially after the turn of the 18th century. A fairly direct allusion to the bakufu’s (governmental) policy is seen in the play The Sagami Lay Monk and the Thousand Dogs (Sagami nyūdō senbiki no inu, before 1714),19 a satire on the notorious policy of the Shogun Tsunayoshi (it was he, by the way, who received the Dutch delegation including Kaempfer). Tunayoshi issued the Laws of Compassion (shōrui awaremi no rei) to protect animals in light of Confucian benevolence, but the intention was mistaken by

The Battles of Coxinga  47 the shogun’s servants –​with much exaggeration –​to the point of punishing subjects who did the slightest harm to domestic animals, especially dogs because the shogun was born in the year of the dog in the Chinese sexagenary cycle.20 People believed that this arbitrary instruction was adopted upon the suggestion of Tsunayoshi’s influential attendants. Chikamatsu wrote a play after the death of the “dog shogun.” The dramatic time is ostensibly set in the 14th century when the Kamakura shogunate was overthrown by the rebellion of warriors. The supreme leader of the government (Sagami Lay Monk), who indulges in a life of luxury and is seen to be enthusiastic about dog fights, is an apparent reference to the late shogun, while his ingratiating vassal Godai’in seems to be conceived after Tsunayoshi’s two favorite confidents, Goji’in Lay Monk and Yanagisawa Yoshiyasu. For the latter, we shall see in Chapter  9 how his (imaginary) bad reputation is dramatized. After Sagami Monk is killed by righteous rebel warriors, the villain Godai’in begs for his life, but is ironically bitten to death by a white dog called Shiroishi. As this name can also be read as Hakuseki in Japanese (i.e., Arai Hakuseki), the play is as much satire as an expectation of a relaxing of the law by the advent of a new advisor to the shogun. There are hints that Chikamatsu was favorable to the political reforms initiated by Hakuseki in the Shōtoku era (1711–​1716). When Hakuseki tried, for example, to reduce the enormous expenditure of receiving Korean emissaries in 1711 despite the diplomatic problems it would cause, the affair was referred to with dramatic adaptation in Chikamatsu’s The Great Chancellor (Taishokan, 1711)  and The Chronicle of the Tenjin (Tenjinki, 1711).21 Hakuseki’s reforms, on the other hand, also triggered a deep recession when he tightened the money supply by replacing a huge sum of “bad” money (which contained less silver or gold) in the market with a lesser amount of “good” money. Bad money had been liberally pumped into the market during Tsunayoshi’s reign in order to compensate for the shogunate’s budget deficit. As a result, cities including Osaka were hit by serious deflation.22 Arguably, this was one of the reasons why Chikamatsu and Takeda Izumo I  worried about box-​office revenues when producing The Battles of Coxinga, although they were ignorant of the economic mechanism underlying the crisis. We may possibly attribute Coxinga’s commercial success to the hilarious atmosphere of the play, which encouraged the recession-​stricken audience by repeatedly calling out and referring to Japan. It was all the more a success because, as Matsumoto Shinpachirō suggests,23 the activities of Japanese merchants in the Southeast Asian seas during the previous century still lingered in the memories of Osaka’s people. As for the political implications of Coxinga, Suwa Haruo remarks on the possibility that Chikamatsu had knowledge of what shogunal scholars called the “transformation of the Chinese world order (kai-​hentai),”24 which exerted a significant effect on the formation of Japanese nationalism in the early modern period. The notion is that when the Manchus held sovereignty over

48  The Battles of Coxinga China, the historical dichotomy between the civilized (the Han Chinese) and the uncivilized (the Manchus) peoples was threatened to the verge of extinction, as it was inconceivable for the former that barbarians could become the legitimate successors of the Chinese civilization (historically speaking, it was not the first time that China was ruled by ethnic groups different from the Han). The Japanese shogunal government was continuously informed of this political upset by Chinese ships, and the government compiled files of these political developments. In fact, the government even received requests from followers of the remaining Ming dynasty, including the Zhengs (Iquan, Coxinga and his son), to send Japanese troops to China. The shogun’s bureaucrats, however, were wise enough to ignore this solicitation. Suwa points out that the news of the former dynasty’s remnants and their resistance against the invasion spread from various sources to Japanese intellectuals. This included the author of The Account of the Battles of the Ming and Qing, the document that Chikamatsu had referenced in conceiving his drama. Such information stirred up a chivalrous –​not to say Japanese –​warrior spirit of helping those in adverse circumstances. The play’s upbeat atmosphere is understandable from this perspective: we (the audience) are on the right side, aiding a dynasty oppressed by barbarians, even though it concerns an affair of bygone days. Our Watōnai, a “Japanese from a small country”25 (the phrase is repeated several times in the drama), is the benevolent protector of China! In the play, however, our hero is also insolent to the point of shameless, for he forces the surrendered Chinese soldiers to change their hairstyles and names to the Japanese style  –​much like, in reality, the Manchus demanded that the defeated Chinese men cut their hair in a queue (pigtail) or lose their heads. This seemingly comical scene indicates that Chikamatsu certainly knew that our hero’s acts were as barbaric as his enemy’s.26 Japanese bravery, on the other hand, is not made into an object of parody since it is praised in relation to the Japanese gods, with reference to Japan as a divine country. This happens as early as the quarrel between Go Sankei and Ri Tōten at the beginning of Part 1, when the loyal Chinese general blames the traitor with the following words:  “Here the philosophy of Confucius and Mencius has been passed down … In India Buddha taught the principle of karma … In Japan there is honesty and the Way of the eternal gods. In Tartary they have … neither teaching nor laws.”27 This passage is noteworthy because in it, Japan equals India and China in spirituality, as it was common for Japanese philosophers in the 17th century to juxtapose the three faiths –​ Buddhism, Confucianism, and Shintoism –​on an eclectic basis. The emphasis on the spiritual quality of the Japanese is, as Kubori Hiroaki has argued,28 close to the so-​called “Japan-​centered order” (nihongata kai-​ ishiki), an ethnocentrism developed from the Chinese original.29 It was advocated by radical philosophers such as Yamaga Sokō (1622–​1685), whose chauvinistic text (Chūchō Jijitsu: The Records of the Central Nation) became in later days a bible for General Nogi, a hero of the Russo-​Japanese War

The Battles of Coxinga  49 (1904–​1905). These thinkers speculated that China had become “barbarous” due to the Manchu’s reign, and the center of the civilized to barbarous dichotomy had shifted to the Far Eastern islands. To them, Japan’s ideological orthodoxy was proven by the unbroken genealogy of the Japanese Emperor, who was a descendant of the gods, while such a lineage was lost in China. There is no evidence that Chikamatsu was influenced by this radical thought; however, Chikamatsu’s history plays undeniably assume a primitive nationalism through their allusion to the supremacy of the Japanese gods. We see this in Coxinga when “the divine strength of Japan”30 is stressed not only by our hero, but also through the words of the two immortals found in the deep mountains of China.

The Coxinga trilogy The nationalistic triplet of divinity, ethnicity, and warfare is not specific to Chikamatsu’s history plays; it is also seen in the patriotic plays of early modern Europe such as Shakespeare’s Henry V and Corneille’s Le Cid. What differentiates Coxinga from its Western counterparts is that while the latter embody the state, the former lacks such an institution. Since the shogunal government is not involved in the conflict, our hero and his company remain as volunteers. Watōnai is described at the beginning of Part 2 as a fisherman who spots Princess Sendan and immediately fears trouble with the governor’s office, anticipating a formal investigation. Consequently, he starts for China together with old Iquan and his wife, without official permission. Their actions reflect the feelings of Osaka’s merchants who were less favorable of governmental intervention. Logically speaking, however, Watōnai’s personal involvement in the anti-​ Manchu campaign is unrealistic and inappropriate: why does he intervene in the Ming dynasty if he neither represents the state nor is subject to it? It is true that Confucian ethics stresses filial piety, or the absolute obedience of a child to his/​her parent. But Watōnai does not start for China on the orders of his father. If it is sympathy toward the declining dynasty that drives our hero, what constitutes the ethical standards for his commitment? This problem remains latent in The Battles of Coxinga, a well-​made adventure play; however, it becomes apparent in the two sequels Chikamatsu made following the great success of the play: The Later Battles of Coxinga (Kokusen’ya gonichi kassen, 1717) and The Chinese Boat: A Modern Coxinga (Tōsen-​banashi imakokusen’ya,1722).31 Both sequels failed as stage productions. The Later Battles of Coxinga is a bitter play. While the framework of the story is borrowed from historical facts on Coxinga and the (purported) Ming Emperor’s retreat from the Chinese mainland to the island of Taiwan (Formosa or Takasago in old Japanese), the plot is Chikamatsu’s invention, utilizing materials from existing fiction such as Romance of the Three Kingdoms (Sangokushi engi or Sānguó Yǎnyì in the original Chinese), a popular Chinese

50  The Battles of Coxinga history novel. In this sequel, the candor and cheerfulness of the preceding work disappear and are replaced by mistrust and anguish, recognizable in such scenes as Coxinga’s disagreement with Kanki, Kanki’s merciless killings of his uncle Shihyō and his uncle’s wife, and old Iquan’s covert exploitation of the local people, followed by a revelation of his crime. The play also tells about the next generation, Coxinga’s son Kinsha and Kanki’s nephew Banrei; however, they are not given a proper place in the dramatic action. The Chinese Boat:  A Modern Coxinga is based on the rebellion of Shu Ikki (Zhu Yigui, 1689–​1721) against the Qing dynasty in Taiwan in 1721. When Chikamatsu wrote the play the following year, there were no available documents on the affair. He supposedly used unofficial sources to collect information, including an Osaka merchant who had connections to smugglers.32 In the latter two plays of the trilogy, Japan’s presence diminishes as the setting is mainly located on Takasago (Formosa) island. Topical references to the country, however, are not entirely absent:  the reason why old Iquan collects money from the locals is because he failed to obtain gold and silver in Japan (this is an allusion to Hakuseki’s restrictive policy on the use of precious metals for foreign trade settlements). The rebels in Modern Coxinga boast that they have extorted money from Chinese merchants who had profited at Nagasaki (presumably through smuggling) while in another play, Chikamatsu hints obliquely at the Shogun Yoshimune’s policy of encouraging informants to come forward about smugglers.33 The three plays about the Coxinga’s family indicate, by different degrees, the impasse that the playwright found himself in − in other words, freely developing the imagination while the main plots were constrained by the historical facts. In The Later Battles, the initial conflict between Coxinga and Kanki arises from the former’s insistence on the Japanese way. Coxinga demands this not only at the Ming emperor’s palace but also at Princess Sendan’s wedding ceremony with Kanki. The Princess is now his sister-​in-​law and therefore, again, he stresses that Kanki should follow the Japanese style. Seki Monryū, one of the Emperor’s generals who later reveals himself as a traitor, attacks Coxinga for his emphasis on divine Japan and its customs as well as his neglect of Chinese traditions. Even Kanki cannot but acknowledge the general’s logic and inquires whether Coxinga’s intentions lie in conquering China by force like Hideyoshi did in Korea. Kanki further asks Coxinga why his son Kinsha is not being brought up in the Chinese fashion since he was born in the Ming dynasty’s lands. Furious, Coxinga abandons the Emperor and his Chinese subjects, heading to Takasago island with his family and the tiger he had tamed in the previous play. The drama in The Later Battles begins from here. The Emperor and Kanki are later obliged to also take refuge on the island due to a conspiracy played out by the Qing. In what follows, Coxinga and Kanki both face troubles. For the Japanese general, it is the execution of his father for abusing the locals. And for his Chinese comrade, it is the deaths of his uncle and uncle’s wife as well as

The Battles of Coxinga  51 his nephew Banrei’s subsequent revenge on him (which he narrowly avoids thanks to Coxinga’s intercession). It is as if their discord could not be repaired without such sacrifices. As for Coxinga’s loyalty to his motherland, it remains an unresolved issue, while his longing is symbolically expressed in the lyrical travel interlude (michiyuki) in Part  4. In this scene, Kinsha, Coxinga’s son, flies to the Shinto shrine of Ise in Japan, although it is later revealed that it was only a dream. The play finally ends with Coxinga executing the Qing Emperor and his princes who have assaulted Taiwan. (As this is contrary to historical fact, it was apparently a temporary expedient for ending the play.) Modern Coxinga, on the other hand, is a fugitive piece in which the playwright examines a rumor about the uprising on Takasago island. Like The Later Battles, the plot is conceived by the author:  it is a story about how the son of a swordsmith is found to be a descendant of the Ming dynasty. A  mysterious old man tells us that our hero, Ikki, is a noble descended from the Emperor, and later, his mother confesses the secret of his birth. Concurrently, Prince Rikuan, the ruler of the island, is described as being a cruel despot who enjoys cutting peasants in half with his sword to examine the sharpness of his blade. However, it is not so much the oppression that leads Ikki to revolt than his attachment to blue blood. Our hero is warmly received by the old man and his band who rebel against Rikuan’s tyranny. However, it is revealed that their treatment of the people is equally harsh. Accompanied by two brutal dogs (reminders of the fierce tiger pursued by Ri Tōten and his men in Coxinga), they not only raid commoners for money but also kill hundreds of them to vent their dissatisfaction. While the hero and his collaborators eventually defeat the despot, the drama is not light-​hearted because not only are the oppressors cruel, but their opponents are also cold-​ blooded and decadent.34 As explained in Chapter  1, the archetypal structure of bunraku history plays, which Chikamatsu greatly contributed to finalizing, involves the restoration of an initial order disturbed by villains. In the abovementioned two plays, the scheme is only imperfectly realized because the final rehabilitation of the Ming dynasty is apparently fictitious, a deus ex machina style conclusion. As long as Chikamatsu’s plays are bound to facts, such as Coxinga’s evacuation to Formosa or vague rumors of rebellion in Taiwan, the heroes must pursue limited victories after the fashion of Chinese popular history novels (which Chikamatsu utilized to conceive the plays), before they can realize a fanciful recovery of the dynasty. This is also the case for Coxinga in which the final victory of the Ming is much exaggerated. The Coxinga trilogy underlines the difficulty, even in the age of Chikamatsu, of dramatizing contemporary affairs in the framework of history plays, that is, accommodating them to a predetermined order, while such contradictions would become nonnegligible to the next generations of bunraku playwrights. The reason for Coxinga’s success arguably lies in the acts of sacrifice (tragedy or lamentation) in Part  3. While the self-​sacrifices of Kinshōjo and

52  The Battles of Coxinga Coxinga’s mother motivated the hero and his company to confront the Qing, the sacrifices in the two later plays serve less for the development of the drama; in The Later Battles, the execution of Coxinga’s father does not instigate the hero to the final battle, likewise, in Modern Coxinga, the incidental death of Ikki’s parents is not depicted as triggering his rebellion. As a result, the causes behind our heroes’ battles are increasingly ambiguous in the sequels to Coxinga. This problem also pertains to The Battles of Coxinga. Such observation leads us to our next question: for what purpose are they fighting?

The Japaneseness of the early modern Japanese In the Coxinga trilogy, Chinese characters are in fact Japanese, even if they are named in the Chinese fashion, because they are Chikamatsu’s inventions. They are contrasted to the barbarous Tartars and their followers commonly portrayed as wicked and treacherous. In this melodramatic dichotomy, the Chinese are sometimes critical of the Japanese, as we see in Kanki’s quarrels with Coxinga over his demand for importing the Japanese way to China in The Later Battles. Chikamatsu is indeed a cultural relativist in this regard. At the heart of their morality, however, the Chinese behave themselves as expected by the Japanese audience. The process is most effectively introduced in Coxinga  –​and is supposedly the reason why the first play succeeded  –​when the Chinese characters are faced with the problem of shame. While we shall not delve into the much disputed discussion about Ruth Benedict’s Japanese shame culture,35 shame (haji) was (and is) of much importance for the Japanese. In Chikamatsu’s domestic tragedies, the implications of shame must be understood in relation to honor and disgrace, not only of the individuals concerned but also of the community, including family. Interestingly, in Coxinga, Chikamatsu extends the notion of shame to the sphere of the country, referring to the shame (disgrace) of Japan or that of  China. It is in this context that Kanki in The Battles of Coxinga first refuses to join Watōnai’s company, saying that his “descendants will be unable to escape shame”36 if he is said to have surrendered to affection for his wife, Kinshōjo. She, on the other hand, sacrifices her life for her husband’s cause so as not to render shame (“disgrace” in Keene’s translation, but haji in the original text) on China.37 They must resolve the double bind of humane feeling and loyalty to their causes by prioritizing the latter –​even if it should cause agony –​in consideration of the shameful positions they would incur should they assume the former. In their tormenting situations, they thus become allied to the Japanese in moralistic terms. If the Chinese display such virtue, the Japanese are all the more devoted to its quality. Coxinga’s mother kills herself for fear of “bringing shame on Japan”38 if she does nothing about her stepdaughter’s self-​sacrifice. Before the final battle, Coxinga recalls that “until her last breath she thought of

The Battles of Coxinga  53 the honor (haji  =  shame) of Japan.”39 Consequently, the final confrontation between Coxinga and his Ming followers with the Tartars is presented as a battle between those who have a sense of shame and the barbarians who are shameless (this is why the latter plays the dirty trick of taking old Iquan hostage). Coxinga, on the other hand, insists on fair play, rejecting the maneuvers suggested by the Chinese generals. He declares a bold and direct attack on the enemy, stressing that “the divine strength of Japan” is enough to overpower the Tartars –​as if to say that using tactics is not fair in Japanese terms. Moreover, in The Later Battles, old Iquan, faced with the accusation, asks Coxinga to execute him, not only to free him from shame but also to convince the Takasago people that his son is a fair person who has been brought up in Japan. Here, honesty is associated with fairness because, according to Iquan, to be fair means not to deceive other people.40 His statement reflects the Japanese merchant morality of the period, as is also seen in Chikamatsu’s double suicides plays. Besides, it is worth adding that Kaempfer counted “the inward purity of the heart” as a main component of Shintoism.41 For the Japanese, honesty is of the highest importance. Quoting the words of Go Sankei:  “in Japan there is honesty and the Way of the eternal gods.”42 The same idea is repeated in old Iquan’s advice to Watōnai as he departs for China: “A divine wind sent by the gods shall blow above the heads of loyal and honest fathers and sons.”43 We thus have a set of ethical standards for our hero, which consists of shame, fairness, and honesty. In addition, as Coxinga’s approach to warfare indicates, honesty and fairness are linked with boldness and bravery. In other words, the Japanese gods cherish those who are as honest as they are brave, espousing a fairness supported by a sense of shame. At the risk of simplification, we could say that the above schematizes the moral constellation of our hero and his commitment to his cause. It is not, of course, an established system of principles –​and Chikamatsu may have also not been aware of any such system  –​and the scheme leaves behind much ambiguity. That is why our hero’s righteousness (or honesty) could easily turn into self-​righteousness, as is indicated by his imposing of Japanese ways. Furthermore, we must not overlook the ambiguity of our hero’s voluntary act when he discovers the axiom of “profiting while others fight” in Part 2: “Now if I went to cross over to China … I could swallow both China and Tartar at once!”44 It is only after having seen the Ming princess that he decides to go to the rescue of the dynasty. His cause is obscure from the outset of the play. In this regard, it is suggestive that a kabuki adaptation of the play in 1716 (this spectacular play was staged many times as kabuki since the success of the bunraku original) called our hero “Coxinga the Oppressor” (Kempei-​ ō Kokusen’ya, at Arashi Sangorō-​za, Osaka),45 alluding to the fact that he was taken for an arrogant warmonger at the time. Even afterward, our hero has been interpreted on the kabuki stage by the exaggerated and wild kabuki aragoto acting style, liberated from the historical context of the play. The use

54  The Battles of Coxinga of aragoto suggests that Coxinga embodied the power of a people eager to expand into the world beyond Japan, just as their ancestors had done in the previous century. The Battles of Coxinga is an interesting play in which we see the self-​ image of the early modern Japanese projected onto the screen of an imaginary China. It functioned like a mirror for the Japanese to acknowledge their Japaneseness. It is true that the notion of Japan as a divine country appeared as early as the 14th century when the country was threatened by the Mongolian invasion. This assumption was later resumed by Toyotomi Hideyoshi in the late 16th century in addressing an overbearing letter to the Spanish Governor General of the Philippines with the request of surrender. Japan as a divine nation had thus been evoked several times in relation to foreign affairs. The regime change in China from the Ming to the Qing was an opportunity for Japanese intellectuals, who mostly belonged to the warrior class, to reconsider their country in regard to China, which had until then been considered the “central” nation of civilization. As Han Kyoung Ja points out,46 in the 17th century, these intellectuals cultivated the idea that Japan was unparalleled in its military power, and this idea was essential for protecting the divine country. For the commoners, on the other hand, Japan as a united nation remained obscure. The people’s sense of borders was at most limited to the boundaries that separated hundreds of feudal domains. Chikamatsu’s play, for certain, helped to popularize the samurai’s recognition of the country. The recurring mention of Japan and its divine protection, which could be achieved through force and bravery, contrasted against the “shame” of the country, led commoners to become aware of a larger social and political entity beyond their local communities. Considering the fact that Chikamatsu’s play was not only staged but also read as a printed narrative, its effect was by no means negligible for the early modern formation of national identity.47 Coxinga inspired many imitators after its success both in bunraku and kabuki.48 In the following stage productions, however, the fascination for the foreign was not as developed as in Coxinga. Among the best-​known later productions is Tenjiku Tokubei ikoku banashi (The Foreign Adventures of “India” Tokubei, 1804)49 by the playwright Tsuruya Nanboku IV. Nanboku’s play is a compilation of foregoing bunraku and kabuki plays. In it, a sailor shipwrecked in the Southeast Asian Sea becomes a rebel against the institution, his traits vaguely reminiscent of the mysterious Christian in Chikamatsu’s The Courtesans in Shimabara and the Battle of Frogs. The figure of the Japanese Coxinga, on the other hand –​and we must not forget that Coxinga has been dramatized in the context of both Chinese and Taiwanese cultures as well50  –​would witness a return in modern Japanese history, especially around the first and the second Sino-​Japanese Wars (1894–​ 1895 and 1937–​1945), not only on stage, but also in fiction and movies as well.51 The modern version of Coxinga, however, is beyond the scope of our present investigation and is better left for future studies.

The Battles of Coxinga  55

Notes 1 Engelbert Kaempfer (1993, The Author’s Preface, xxix). See also Josef Kreiner (1992, pp.  39–​40). For a concise introduction to his life in English, see Beatrice M. Bodart-Bailey (1995). Bodart-​Baily indicates that witch hunts were prevalent in the 1660s in Kaempfer’s hometown of Lemgo. Bodart-​Bailey (1995, p. 3). 2 Haneda Masashi (2017, pp. 95–​97). 3 Keene (1971, p. 45) and Nara Shūichi (2016, p. 17). 4 Ishihara Michihiro (1959, p. 27). However, the suicide of his mother is dubious as a historical fact. Nara does not mention it in his study. 5 The view that Japan was not secluded at the time has been indicated by many scholars. For an English discussion of the theme, see Toby (1991). 6 Haneda (2017, pp. 121–​122). See also Hirayama Atsuko (2019, pp. 49–​54). 7 Kreiner (1992, pp. 180–​181). 8 Boku Reigyoku (Park Yeo-​ok) (2009, p. 218). 9 Katagiri Kazuo (2000, p. 204). 10 Yu-​ying Brown (1992, pp. 240–​241). 11 Carl Peter Thunberg (1994, p. 205). 12 This was the play Hakata Kojorō namimakura [The Girl from Hakata, or Love at Sea, 1718], CZ 10. The play is translated by Keene (1990). 13 Arai Hakuseki (1968, p. 68). 14 Nishiki Bunryū (1991). The English title is Keene’s. Keene (1971, p. 6). 15 Suwa Haruo (1985, p. 571). 16 As for the influence of The Account of the Battles of the the Ming and Qing (Min-​ Shin tōki) on The Battles of Coxinga, see Suwa (1985), and Kuroishi Yōko (2007). 17 For this problem, see, for example, Mukai Yoshiki (1976). 18 Gerstle (2001, p. 6). The original text is found in CZ 17, p. 29. 19 The English title is Shively’s. For an English synopsis of the play, see Shively (1982, p. 45). 20 A detailed study about the Shogun Tsunayoshi or “the dog shogun” is available in English (Bodart-​Bailey 2007). For his Laws of Compassion, see ibid., Chapters 10 and 11. See also Tsuji Tatsuya (1991, p. 428). 21 The English titles are ours. Concerning the political allusion of the plays, see Uchiyama (1989, p. 77). 22 Ibid., p. 78. 23 Matsumoto Shinpachirō (1959, p. 3). 24 Suwa (1985, p. 577). 25 As noted in Chapter 1, there are two versions of the English translation of the play by Keene. Here, we refer to his 1971 (first published in 1951) version. Keene (1971, pp. 126, 132, 158). CZ 9, pp. 681, 693, 742. 26 The enforcement of pigtails by the Manchus can be found in The Account of the Battles of the Ming and Qing (Min-​Shin Tōki), one of Chikamatsu’ s sourcebooks. 27 Keene (1971, p. 102). CZ 9, p. 636. 28 Kubori Hiroaki (2011, p. 6). 29 For an English study of the Japan centered-​order, see Toby (1991, p. 89). 30 Keene (1971, pp. 151, 155). CZ 9, pp. 728, 737. 31 The English titles are Keene’s. Keene (1971, p. 7). 32 On this issue, see Matsumoto (1959), and Han Kyoung Ja (2019, p. 167).

56  The Battles of Coxinga 33 Iwai Masami (1996). The play in question is, as aforementioned, Hakata Kojorō namimakura (The Girl from Hakata, or Love at Sea, 1718). 34 Han makes, on the other hand, an interesting interpretation of Modern Coxinga; she states that it is an allegory of a possible rebellion of the people if they are mistreated by the ruler. Han (2019, p. 180). 35 Ruth Benedict (2006) (first published in 1946). 36 Keene (1971, p. 137). CZ 9, p. 703. 37 Ibid., p. 140. CZ 9, p. 708. 38 Ibid. CZ 9, p. 709. 39 Ibid., p. 155. CZ 9, p. 736. 40 CZ 10, p. 90. 41 Kaempfer (1993,Vol. 2., p. 16). 42 Keene (1971, p. 102). CZ 9, p. 636. 43 Ibid., p. 120 (Modernized translation by authors). CZ 9, p. 670. 44 Ibid., p. 116. CZ 9, p. 662. 45 Kabuki Hyōbanki Shūsei Kenkyūkai (1974, p. 352). 46 Han (2019, pp. 144–​148). 47 Marius B. Jansen, on the other hand, remarks: “It would be foolish to read too much into this extravaganza of stage entertainment,” cited by Toby (1991, p. 225). Jansen obviously underestimates the power of popular culture. 48 Concerning the influence of Coxinga, see Keene (1971, pp. 80–​85). 49 The English title is from OC. In HD, The Tale of Tokubei from India. 50 On this subject, see Wang Chong (2008). 51 Ishihara (1959, pp. 91–​97).

Bibliography Arai Hakuseki. 1968. Seiyō kibun [An Account of the Western Countries]. Annotated by Michio Miyazaki. Tokyo: Heibonsha. Benedict, Ruth. 2006. The Chrysanthemum and the Sword. Boston:  Mariner Books. (First published in 1946.) Bodart-​Bailey, Beatrice M. 1995. “Introduction: The Furthest Goal.” In The Furthest Goal:  Engelbert Kaempfer’s Encounter with Tokugawa Japan:  1–​ 16, edited by Beatrice M. Bodart-​Bailey and Derek Massarella. Kent: Japan Library. —​—​—​. 2007. The Dog Shogun: The Personality and Policies of Tokugawa Tsunayoshi. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press. Boku Reigyoku (Park Yeo-​ok). 2009. “Kinsei engeki no hikaku bungakuteki kenkyū Chikamatsu no sakuhin no sekai kara [A Comparative Literary Study of Early Modern Theatre in Terms of the World of Chikamatsu’s Works].” PhD diss., Kyoto University, Japan. Brown, Yu-​ying. 1992. “‘Nihonshi to Eikoku ni tsutawaru Kenperu isan [The History of Japan and Kaempfer’s Legacy in Britain].” In Kenperu no mita Tokugawa Nihon [Japan in the Tokugawa Period as seen by Kaempfer]:  224–​249, edited by Josef Kreiner. Tokyo: Rokkō shuppan. Gerstle, C. Andrew, trans. & annot. 2001. Chikamatsu 5 Later Plays. New  York: Columbia University Press. Han Kyoung Ja. 2019. Chikamatsu jidai jōruri no sekai [The World of Chikamatsu’s Bunraku History Plays]. Tokyo: Perikansha.

The Battles of Coxinga  57 Haneda Masashi. 2017. Higashi Indogaisha to Ajia no umi [The East India Companies and Asian Waters]. Tokyo: Kōdansha. (First published in 2007.) Hirayama Atsuko. 2019. “Supein no Manira kensetsu [The Construction of Manila City by the Spanish].” In 1571 nen: Gin no dairyūtsū to kokka tōgō [1571: The Global Circulation of Silver and the Consolidation of States]: 26–​79, edited by Kishimoto Mio. Tokyo: Yamakawa shuppansha. Ishihara Michihiro. 1959. Kokusen’ya [Coxinga]. Tokyo: Yoshikawa kōbunkan. Iwai Masami. 1996. “Hakata Kojorō Namimakura no jissetsu to Chikamatsu no Yoshimune hihan [Chikamatsu’s Criticism of Yoshimune and the True Story of His Play, A Pillow of Waves for the Courtesan Kojorō in Hakata)].” In Hakata-​za Theatre Program. Fukuoka: Hakata-​za. Kabuki Hyōbanki Shūsei Kenkyūkai [Research Group for Collected Kabuki Critiques], ed. 1974. Kabuki hyōbanki shūsei [Collected Kabuki Critiques], Vol. 6. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. Kaempfer, Engelbert. 1993. The History of Japan Together with a Description of The Kingdom of Siam 1690–​1692. 3  vols. Translated by J. G. Scheuchzer. Richmond, Surrey: Curzon Press. (First published in 1906.) Available as e-​text: https://​archive. org/​details/​historyofjapanto02kaem/​page/​n8. Katagiri Kazuo. 2000. Edo no Orandajin [The Dutch in Edo]. Tokyo: Chūōkōronsha. Keene, Donald, trans. & annot. 1971. The Battles of Coxinga Chikamatsu’s Puppet Play, Its Background and Importance. Cambridge:  Cambridge University Press. (First published in 1951.) —​—​—​, trans. 1990. Major Plays of Chikamatsu. New  York:  Columbia University Press. (First published in 1961.) Kreiner, Josef. 1992. “Kenperu to yōroppa no nihonkan [Japan as Seen by a European, Kaempfer].” In Kenperu no mita Tokugawa Nihon [Japan in the Tokugawa Period as seen by Kaempfer]: 26–​51, edited by Josef Kreiner. Tokyo: Rokkō shuppan. Kubori Hiroaki. 2011. “Chikamatsu and the State in the Kyōhō Era:  The Journey to Kanhasshū Tsunagiuma.” Translated by Joseph Ryan. UrbanScope Vol. 2: 2–​18. Available as e-​text: http://​urbanscope.lit.osaka-​cu.ac.jp/​journal/​vol.002.html. Kuroishi Yōko. 2007. “Kokusen’ya Kassen kō –​sandanme no rōbozō wo chūshin ni. [A Study of The Battles of Coxinga, Focusing on the Figure of the Old Mother in Part  3].” In Chikamatsu igo no ningyō jōruri [Bunraku after Chikamatsu]:  29–​46. Tokyo: Iwata shoin. Leiter, Samuel L. 2014. Historical Dictionary of Japanese Traditional Theatre, Second Edition. Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield. [Abbreviated as HD.] Matsumoto Shinpachirō. 1959. “Kokusen’ya Kassen –​sono minzokukan ni tsuite [The Battles of Coxinga with Regard to Its View of Race].” In Geppo 28 of Nihonkoten Bungaku Taikei [Monthly Leaflet Attached to Vol. 28 of the Collection of Japanese Classic Literature]: 3–​5. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. Mukai Yoshiki. 1976. “Chikamatsu jidai jōruri no kōzō to hōhō [The Method and Structure of Chikamatsu’s History Plays].” In Chikamatsu: 126–​135. Tokyo: Yuseidō Shuppan. Nara Shūichi. 2016. Tei Seikō: Nankai wo shihaishita ichizoku [Zheng Chenggong: The Family who Dominated the South Sea]. Tokyo: Yamakawa shuppansha. Nishiki Bunryū, 1991. “Kokusen’ya tegara nikki [A Diary of Coxinga’s Achievements].” In Nishiki Bunryū zenshū, jōruri I [Collection of Works of Nishiki Bunryū: Bunraku I ]: 58–​108, edited by Nagatomo Chiyoji. Tokyo: Kotenbunko.

58  The Battles of Coxinga Suwa Haruo. 1985. “Kokusen’ya sanbusaku [The Coxinga Trilogy].” In Kinsei Geinōshiron [A Study of the Early Modern Stage]. Tokyo: Kasama shoin. Thunberg, Carl Peter. 1994. Edo sanpu zuikōki [Records of My Travel to Edo]. Translated by Takahashi Fumi. Tokyo: Heibonsha. Toby, Ronald P. 1991. State and Diplomacy in Early Modern Japan. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Tsuji Tatsuya. 1991. “Politics in the Eighteenth Century.” In The Cambridge History of Japan, Vol. 4: 425–477. Translated by Harold Bolitho. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Uchiyama Mikiko.1989. Jōrurishi no jūhasseiki [The 18th Century in the History of Bunraku]. Tokyo: Bensei shuppan. Wang, Chong. 2008. Interpreting Zheng Chenggong:  The Politics of Dramatizing a Historical Figure in Japan, China, and Taiwan (1700–​1963). Riga:  VDM Verlag Dr. Müller.

3  A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman Echoes of a shadowy domain

A Courtly Mirror, which dramatized the legend of Abe no Seimei, has been taken for a kind of fairy tale in which a fox is transformed into a woman. The main focus of the play, however, is found in the fox mother’s prodigious child Seimei and his art of onmyōdō (Japanese astrology). His story was propagated by itinerant (and outcast) performers in medieval times. This leads us to think about the problem of the relationship between the Japanese outcasts and the legend. The play could have conveyed the remote, but distinct voice of the discriminated people in Japan.

Lady Kuzunoha and her double Chikamatsu died in 1725 at the age of 72. The following year, Arai Hakuseki, who had been removed from the administration in 1716 with the inauguration of the Shogun Yoshimune, passed away. The eighth shogun was a man of strong leadership. Although he was related by birth to the shogunal families, he was originally the least expected candidate for heir to the Tycoon. As he attained the status through a series of unlikely chances and his ability as a ruler, he was so confident of himself that he took the initiative of administering the so-​called Kyōhō Reforms1 and this was why, different from his predecessors, he did not need political advisors like Hakuseki. Nonetheless, his reforms did not contradict those of his predecessors; they were meant to improve the government deficit. For that purpose, he demanded frugality from both warriors and commoners and insisted that they follow feudal ethics. He further raised the tax rate for farmers as well. The gaiety brought by the economic growth in the Genroku years (1688–​ 1704) was in the far-​off past and the country remained in stagnation. On top of this, as aforementioned, it was Yoshimune who forbade the production of double suicides plays in 1722 to restore public morals. There are indications that Chikamatsu was skeptical about Yoshimune’s meticulous instructions regarding his reforms,2 and this can be seen in his last play, The Tethered Steed and the Eight Provinces of Kanto (1724), produced in the year of his decease.3

60  A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman At the Takemoto-​za theatre, Takeda Izumo I  (birth year unknown to 1747)  became a major playwright for the company after Chikamatsu’s death. He was the son of Takeda Ōmi, a theatre manager and inventor who was famous for the mechanically devised puppet theatre in Osaka (Takeda Karakuri) in the late 17th century. Izumo I took over the production rights for the Takemoto-​za from Takemoto Gidayū in 1705 since, as Kubori speculates, the Takeda family had a more solid financial basis in the showbiz and Gidayū relied on Izumo I and their personal relationship.4 Izumo I then worked with Chikamatsu as a competent theatre manager. He learned playwriting under the tuition of the great author and his first independent play was produced in 1724. From then on, he and his son Takeda Izumo II (1691–​1756) as well as their collaborators also inherited the late Chikamatsu’s plays along with all of their potentialities. In fact, so widespread were the story worlds and subjects explored by Chikamatsu, who is supposed to have written about 140 pieces of bunraku and kabuki during his lifetime, that his successors were obliged to amplify Chikamatsu’s dramas with more spectacular and better thought-​out dramaturgies. A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman (Ashiya Dōman ōuchi kagami, 1734)5 by Takeda Izumo I is one such play that reflects Izumo’s talent for integrating existing works including those of Chikamatsu. Today, A Courtly Mirror is considered important for two reasons:  researchers agree in general that the operation of a puppet by three men as we see on the present bunraku stage was introduced by this play and second, it is renowned for the scene in which Lady Kuzunoha bids farewell to her little child. Among the five parts of the play, it is mainly Part  4, featuring the separation of mother from son, that survives in the current repertoire of bunraku and kabuki. The interesting aspect of this part lies in the motif that there are two ladies called Kuzunoha: the real Kuzunoha and a pretender (needless to say, the device can be easily realized using puppets). The drama begins when the real Kuzunoha finds her double with a child who is not her own. Furthermore, she has not seen her lover Abe no Yasuna for six years, while he is convinced that he has lived with her all the while and that the two have been blessed with the fortune of having a child. The fake Kuzonoha, under suspicion, confesses she is really a fox whose life had been saved by Yasuna (we must note here that in Japanese culture, the fox does not imply a cunning character). It was in return for his kindness as well as for a love of the wretched young man separated from his lover that the animal transformed herself into the beauty. The plot itself is what is called human–​animal marriage found in tales of mythology and folklore worldwide; the motif of marriage between man and fox has existed in Japan since the collection of strange stories compiled in the 9th century (Nihon Ryōiki).6 From then, the motif has appeared in medieval literature as tales and records,7 including its variants in the Noh play Sesshō-​seki (Killing Stone) and the kyōgen work Tsuri-​Gitsune (Fox Trapping), both of which feature a fox with magical powers. The difference between the

A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman  61 premodern versions of human–​fox marriages and the tale of Kuzunoha is that the former centers on the animal’s strange enchantment of human beings, because in Japanese folklore foxes are believed to be capable of transformation and mesmerism (kitsune-​tsuki: being possessed with a fox). In the Kuzunoha version, on the other hand, the mother leaving her child is the focus of the story. The fox mother and child’s separation, however, was not Takeda Izumo I’s invention. Presumably it was rooted in folklore that developed in the late medieval era. Thereafter it continued to evolve as it was narrated in a popular story (kanazōshi) published in 1662.8 The motif, however, was decisively developed in 1678 in an early bunraku (kojōruri) play called The Shinoda Wife (Shinodazuma),9 which Izumo certainly utilized to produce his drama. Although The Shinoda Wife is written in an archaic style, the plot concerning Kuzunoha is all there except for her name: Yasuna’s rescue of a fox, the subsequent meeting with a beautiful girl, cohabitation and the birth of a child, the discovery of her identity, and the departure of mother from her husband and son. The plot was henceforth dramatized both on the bunraku and kabuki stages under the rubric of Shinodazuma,10 among which another piece worth citing is A Woman Fortune-​Teller in the Woods of Shinoda (Shinoda no mori on’na urakata, 1713)11 by Kino Kaion (1663–​ 1742), a rival of Chikamatsu at the Toyotake-​za. While the fox mother is already referred to as Kuzunoha (which means “a leaf of Kuzu or vine”) in a preceding kabuki play,12 in A Woman Fortune-​Teller, Kuzunoha is portrayed as an active soothsayer who, together with her fellow foxes, helps Yasuna win against his adversaries. A trap set by the enemy reveals her identity and leads to her separation from her child. As Katō indicates,13 Kaion’s work still retains medieval images of the fox, sharing common aspects with the Noh and kyōgen plays cited above. The motif of the fox mother evolved in the 17th century into personification, emphasizing the sorrow of parting between mother and child. At first, the image of the grieving mother was entangled with that of the enchanting animal, and the fox remained anonymous. Then she was identified as a wife coming from a particular place (Shinoda is known for its woods inhabited by foxes), and finally she was assigned a proper name –​Kuzunoha. Takeda Izumo I, assimilating antecedent works, pursued modernization and sophistication; he discarded the description of the illusory world complete with foxes, which had lingered on in Kaion’s work, and continued from medieval tradition, making the revelation of Fox-​Kuzunoha as effective as possible by introducing the theatrical device of two identical ladies seeing one another. By contrast, in the early bunraku version (The Shinoda Wife), the mother is discovered in her figure of a fox when she is absent-​mindedly gazing at chrysanthemums. In Kaion’s play, Kuzunoha reveals herself when she is attracted by the smell of a fried mouse, since foxes were thought to be defenseless when baited with this food14 (the idea is also found in Tsuri-​Gitsune [Fox Trapping], a kyōgen comic piece, and is partially adapted in The Shinoda

62  A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman Wife). With Izumo, the humanization of Fox-​Kuzunoha is complete; she is a contemporary, sound wife who takes care of her child and makes a living by weaving, with no explicit reference to the uncanny world of foxes until the true Kuzunoha and her parents visit. The real invention of Izumo, as it seems, is the idea of the two Kuzunohas, although a primitive use of twins for theatricality is found in Chikamatsu’s work.15 While the use of such twins suggests their interchangeability, the “false” one must eventually disappear in the face of the “authentic” other, stressing the former’s misery, even though Lady Kuzunoha is kind enough to take care of the fox mother’s child. The same contrast is found in the scene of michiyuki (lyrical travel interlude). In the journey, shared by the two ladies, the first half is led by Fox-​Kuzunoha while the second half is led by the real Kuzunoha. Nonetheless, both of these journeys seem to be traced by the same character. The theatrical effect of duplication also appears when we see, after the departure of Fox-​Kuzunoha, two identical servants arrive one after another to protect Lady Kuzunoha and “her” child from the assault of villains. One is called Yokanbei and the other Yakanbei; their names could be translated into English as “had-​better-​do-​this” John and “had-​better-​do-​that” John, respectively. It is a comic scene in which “had-​better-​do-​this” John, after having expelled the enemy, runs into “had-​better-​do-​that” John who has also fought with equal bravery. The two men are surprised to see that they are indistinguishable from head to toe. The only difference between them is that, while “had-​better-​do-​this” John says that he is from the countryside and has been working as a domestic servant since the age of 11, “had-​better-​do-​that” John simply states that he is from “that hole.”16 In fact, yakan is a homonym for fox in old Japanese, and “had-​better-​do-​that” John (Yakanbei) is the false one of the two, sent by Fox-​Kuzunoha to guard Lady Kuzunoha and “her” child. It is interesting to note, by the way, that the three-​man puppet was first introduced to express the dynamic motion of these two servants, especially for the movement of their abdomen (the center of energy in oriental medicine), and not for the elaborated manipulation of the main puppets as we would expect for the present bunraku stage. This tells us that the operation of puppets at the time was in a stage of development, different from its present state of sophistication. The Fox-​Kuzunoha scenes are notable for their contemporary setting as introduced by Izumo I, which eliminates the fantastic elements of folklore found in prior works. Then, something extraordinary intrudes into daily life. It is this contrast between ordinariness and singularity that produces as much sorrow as laughter. Part 4 of A Courtly Mirror is well made, but is not the focal point of the entire play. The scene pivots on the infant whom Fox-​ Kuzunoha entrusts to Lady Kuzunoha. The play, in fact, constitutes a long prologue about how a little boy born from a fox mother becomes a legendary figure. To understand the play, we must consequently know more about this hybrid child named Abe no Seimei.

A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman  63

Figure 3.1 Separation of Kuzunoha from her child (scene from A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman). Yoshida Kazuo, lead puppeteer. © National Bunraku Theatre.

Abe no Seimei and Onmyōdo Abe ​no (Abe) Seimei17 had long been forgotten before the late 20th century. Now, however, he is well known in the context of Japanese subculture after he was spotlighted as a fictional hero of occult mysteries and his character was adapted in movies, TV dramas, comic books (mangas), and the contemporary stage.18 Historically he lived in the 10th century (921–​1005) and served the emperors with his onmyōdō skills.19 This specific knowledge basically consists of astronomy and calendar-​making, as a major function of the Emperor was to establish and distribute calendars to his subjects who needed prior knowledge of seasonal changes for their agricultural and fishing work. Because those were the days before modern science, it was only natural that this art of Chinese origin was mixed with metaphysics like Taoism (onmyō is a Japanese transcription of yin-​yang) and autochthonous beliefs, merging them into an eclectic astrology. As Abe ​no Seimei is said to have been an excellent onmyōji (specialist of the art of onmyōdō) in the court, he became a legend in medieval literature, depicted as a man who, besides his ability as an astrologer, exercised occult arts such as clairvoyance, conjuration, and exorcism. Before his revival in the 20th century, stories of Seimei attracted attention in the mid-​17th century when the abovementioned popular story –​The Story of Abe ​no Seimei (Abe ​no  Seimei monogatari, 1662)  –​and the play The Shinoda Wife (1678)

64  A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman appeared. The Story of Abe n​ o Seimei covers ancestral stories starting from the birth of secret Chinese astrology and its introduction in Japan to the time when Seimei  succeeded as an astrologer–​sorcerer. Meanwhile, The Shinoda Wife starts with the conflict between Seimei’s father, Yasuna, and Ashiya Dōman, his rival in astrology –​this rivalry is later repeated between Seimei and Dōman. In the meantime, Yasuna’s encounter with his fox wife and the subsequent birth of their child –​Seimei –​are also told, constituting a major part of the play. Takeda Izumo I, borrowing the narratives of Fox-​Kuzunoha and her child’s feats from The Shinoda Wife, locates the conflict between the two onmyōji in the wider political context of a courtly struggle (the play’s first setting is Kyoto, accordingly). Abe ​no Yasuna and Ashiya Dōman are disciples of a deceased astrology scholar; they are both also subject to two separate high nobles, Yoshifuru and Motokata, who compete for influence over the crown prince through their daughters, both of whom are married to the prince. The conflict involves the two pupils in the problem of who should be the legitimate successor to their master. Yasuna is promising because he is engaged to the ex-​master’s daughter, Sakaki. However, she is forced to kill herself in order to take responsibility for a stolen book of secret arts that her father had kept. Shocked, Yasuna goes insane and is expelled from the court. This ends Part 1 of the play. The book of secret arts had disappeared due to a conspiracy planned by the followers of the evil high noble Motokata who despises Yasuna’s lord, Yoshifuru. The head of the villain servants, Iwakura, seduces Dōman into putting a spell on Yoshifuru’s daughter (Lady Rokuno-​kimi) in order to assassinate her. When the hypnotized princess is about to be drowned in a pond by Akuemon, one of Iwakura’s men, she is carried off by a big hinin (Japanese outcast) man. In the meantime, at the shrine of Shinoda in the south of Osaka, Sakaki’s younger sister, unknowing of Sakaki’s suicide, prays for her safety. This is Kuzunoha. In fact, Sakaki had been adopted into the house of the deceased astrology scholar in Kyoto. The mad Yasuna then appears wandering to the shrine (this independent scene was later adapted into the kabuki dance called Yasuna). He takes Kuzunoha for Sakaki as they are so much alike. Yasuna’s madness mystically disappears upon this encounter and Yasuna asks Kuzunoha for her hand. At that moment, he finds the villainous Akuemon hunting a white fox to offer as a sacrifice for his evil lord’s daughter in the hopes that she will conceive a child. Yasuna lets the fox go, but he is caught in a fight with Akuemon, who has also desired Kuzunoha. Part 2 concludes with a scene where Yasuna escapes to Abeno, a suburb of Osaka, accompanied by Kuzunoha who suddenly appears after he has escaped from Akuemon. Part 3 is located entirely in Kyoto. The evil high noble Motokata is pondering the whereabouts of his adversary’s vanished princess, Lady Rokuno-​kimi. Iwakura mentions that he suspects Dōman, who is married to his daughter Tsukubane. They summon Tsukubane and, following her comical and endless

A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman  65 talk mixed with jealousy and love for her husband, they manage to understand that Dōman has most likely hidden the woman in his house. It was indeed Dōman who had saved the princess’ life the other day, disguised as a big hinin man. Iwakura orders Dōman to kill the princess, and Dōman is caught in a dilemma between a compassion for her and loyalty to his lord. Moreover, Dōman’s sister is married to a servant working for the princess’ father, the good high noble Yoshifuru (he is also Yasuna’s lord). Dōman’s sister insists that he liberate the princess, while his father proposes to sacrifice himself to free her, a proposal that his children protest. They are completely stuck. Night falls. Somebody secretly tries to release the princess. Dōman finds out and stabs him. Alas, it is his father who had acted in place of his son. Iwakura then arrives to urge Dōman to carry out his order, but he is killed by Tsukubane who has confirmed her husband’s love. Dōman and Tsukubane, lamenting their horrible crimes, decide to become Buddhist priests to atone for their patricides. Finally, following the bunraku convention for narrating legends, we are told that Dōman (called Michitaru before this scene) henceforth bore the Buddhist name “Dōman” and went on to become a legendary onmyōji. Between Part 3 and Part 4 lapses a certain time during which Seimei lives with Fox Kuzunoha. We have already summarized the main plot of Part 4; however, there are two subplots to mention here. First, Lady Kuzunoha has rejected Akuemon’s marriage proposal for six  years. Akuemon attempts to kidnap her and subsequently “had-​better-​do-​this” John (Yokanbei) and “had-​better-​do-​that” John (Yakanbei) fight the villains. Additionally, before the battle of the Johns, Dōman, who was on his way to his manor, had come upon Yasuna, his wife, and his child. After talking to Yasuna about the happenings in Kyoto, Dōman returns the stolen book of secret arts to Yasuna and is amazed at the brightness of the five-​year-​old boy who already fully understands the book. Following conventions, we are told that Dōman thus names the child Seimei which means “clear (sei)” and “bright (mei).” In the final part (dan 5), Yasuna and his family have returned to Kyoto. Akuemon and his band, as always, are conspiring to annihilate Lady Rokuno-​ kimi. Yasuna, trying to stop them, this time is killed by Akuemon. The final confrontation between the two parties is realized in the court with the presence of the crown prince, through a contest of the secret arts fought out between Dōman and Seimei, who is still a young boy. Dōman and Seimei compete over their clairvoyance of objects in a chest, and not only does Seimei win, but he also succeeds in reviving his father. Finally, Akuemon is killed while the evil high noble Motokata is banished from the court, and all ends well. Before A Courtly Mirror, Dōman had always been depicted as a villain, but his presence was by no means impressive; this was the case in Chikamatsu’s play about Seimei and Dōman. In A Maternity Room with Cormorant Feathers in Kōki Palace (Kōkiden unoha no ubuya, before 1714),20 he focuses on a childless Emperor and two expectant queen consorts, and their rivalry involves lowly servants and warriors including the conflict between Seimei and Dōman.

66  A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman Kaion’s, A Woman Fortune-​Teller, on the other hand, presents the house of Abe, which becomes heirless in the absence of Yasuna, enchanted by the fox. This causes Dōman to be nominated as Yasuna’s successor (causing a household disturbance, a theme borrowed from kabuki), but the confrontation between Yasuna and Dōman remains untold. Izumo transformed Dōman from an obscure antagonist into a friendly character, hence the play’s title. His device, however, does not work well because the play begins with their rivalry, making the audience expect a subsequent conflict. The fearful acts of Dōman and his wife and their lamentation in Part 3 are not tied too well to the development of the play. If Dōman’s conversion is true, why does he participate in the final contest with Seimei? These defects are related to two motifs combined in the play: describing Seimei’s mysterious origin and showing the superiority of his arts, and his confrontation with Dōman is required for this purpose. As we have seen, Izumo adapted these motifs from The Shinoda Wife. Seen from this angle, Chikamatsu’s abovementioned play is dramaturgically more reasonably constructed, because it eliminates the story about Seimei’s birth, focusing instead on the battle between the two astrologers in a courtly conspiracy. Notwithstanding, A Courtly Mirror definitively outlines the (fictitious) figure of Seimei, inherited from The Shinoda Wife, in which the onmyōji’s mother is a fox who comes from the woods of Shinoda. Today, the works surrounding Kuzunoha or the separation of Kuzunoha from her child has become the equivalent of the play itself. From this, we could ask the following questions:  what relationship is there between a fox mother and a great astrologer–​sorcerer? Why was it that the fox wife appeared from the woods of Shinoda? These matters are concerned, in fact, with Japanese itinerant performers. It is first necessary to consider their relationship with the imperial court.

Itinerant performers and the court As a result of the shogunal reign, which converted the value of all products into rice output, we tend to see Japanese society before modernization as based on rice production. Needless to say, the commoners’ lives were carried out upon a wide spectrum of activities such as fishery, forestry, hunting, mining, craftsmanship, and cultural practice, in addition to agriculture and commerce. This diversity of production was linked to the multiplicity of the commoners’ lifestyles; while the visible majority of the population settled in farmlands, there was also a minor but substantial population of nonsettlers who wandered from place to place for their existence, including traveling vendors, artisans, miners, hunters, Buddhist mendicants, street performers, soothsayers, prostitutes, and so forth. For settled inhabitants, these travelers were as much welcomed as feared because, while they brought news of the outer world, they were strangers of obscure origin. This was even more

A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman  67 notable in medieval Japan, when the margins of society constituted a greater portion of the population than in the early modern period. Low-​ranking onmyōji or popular diviners were counted among these itinerant performers because they traveled countrywide to sell calendars and tell fortunes, accompanied by other forms of entertainment. In fact, there existed two distinctive classes of onmyōji:  the official and vulgar. The former had belonged to the government since the establishment of the onmyōdō department in the 8th century. They were trained and promoted in the bureaucratic hierarchy, at the top of which were historically prominent astrologers like Seimei. Low-​ranking onmyōji were more spontaneous; like unofficial Buddhist monks who practiced outside the authorized discipline and were widely seen before early modern Japan,21 vulgar onmyōji supposedly acquired their knowledge on their own, mixing the native arts of divination, exorcism, and medicine.22 Due to the lack of historical records, however, their activities are scarcely known before the medieval period. According to a document from the 15th century, vulgar onmyōji were found among the shōmoji, who provided various forms of entertainment.23 It must be recalled that Noh troupes were born from shōmoji companies in the Yamato Province. More important is that the shōmoji, as well as the popular onmyōji, were considered outcasts in society and that they covered itinerant performing arts of all sorts. Besides sarugaku (Noh), these performing arts included the primitive puppet play (kugutsu), female dance in male attire coupled with prostitution (aruki shirabyōshi), Buddhist hand bell playing with mendicancy (kane tataki), celebration of the new year with dance and joyful speech (senzu manzai), and shows of trained monkeys (sarumawashi). As Amino Yoshihiko explains, these itinerant performers (which should include not only performers per se, but also peddlers, artisans, mendicants, gamblers, soothsayers, and prostitutes because they also exercised some form of “performing art”) enjoyed freedom as nonsettlers in medieval Japan, despite their outcast status.24 Furthermore, these “performers” were equivocal in their profession; in the case of the onmyōji, they not only performed the arts of shōmoji, but they were also fortune-​tellers, calendar vendors, and mendicants, accordingly. The situation, however, gradually changed with the unification of the country from the late 16th to the 17th century as the rulers demanded settlement for the sake of social stability. While the mobility of these people was not completely abolished in the early modern period, the liberty of wandering diminished accordingly (the shogunal regime ordered Buddhist temples to keep family registers of commoners like parish registers in Europe). Under these circumstances, the stories of Seimei seem to have changed in nature; while the legends of Seimei in medieval literature tell the marvels of his art, “new” stories about him in the 17th century highlight Seimei’s role as a legitimate successor of onmyōdō. This tendency was first seen in an annotated text about the secret arts that appeared in the late 16th century (Hokishō). This text provided several motifs for dramatizing the life of Seimei as seen in

68  A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman The Story of Abe ​no Seimei and The Shinoda Wife (Shinodazuma). However, based on philological research (i.e., comparing the terms and expressions used in the two texts), some scholars conjecture that there must have been an oral narrative about Seimei preceding these two works.25 If such a hypothetical narrative, which could be called the Ur-​Shinodazuma, had truly been told, it would have been none other than the itinerant onmyōji = shōmoji who would have been responsible for emphasizing Seimei’s mysterious origin and the separation of mother and son. They presumably told the Ur-​Shinodazuma as entertainment for the purpose of suggesting their noble origin; in other words, they themselves were not mere outcasts but were descendants of an eminent high noble, as was the convention of itinerant performer guilds that claimed that their connection with the imperial court had existed since the medieval period. The Ur-​Shinodazuma oral narrative could have been sekkyō-​bushi, or a Buddhist sermon ballad, which was derived from the medieval tradition and had gained popularity in the early 17th century as entertainment along with early bunraku (kojōruri). These sermon ballads narrated the story of a hero of noble origin who must go through medievalesque (i.e., merciless) hardships before he restores glory to a particular temple and/​or shrine with the aid of Buddhist or Shintoist deities (or reveals himself to be a divine incarnation).26 Sekkyō-​bushi not only emphasizes the virtues of the gods but also refers to the narrator him/​herself, because the itinerary of the hero –​sermon ballads are about his pilgrimages –​overlaps with that of the storyteller, wandering from one place to another. Raconteurs of these theatrical sermons were also outcasts, constituting the lowest class of performers. It is not certain, however, that the Ur-​Shinodazuma was a sekkyō-​bushi because, different from other classic stories of the genre printed in the mid-​ 17th century, it lacks a contemporary text. It is true that famous sermon ballads were adapted to early bunraku (kojōruri) and that The Shinoda Wife –​an early bunraku play –​was once thought to have been derived from a corresponding sermon ballad. Notwithstanding, the “new” stories about Seimei were distinct from the sekkyō-​bushi text because, for one, they were not concerned with the divine origin of a particular temple/​shrine (instead, it is the supernatural human–​animal marriage that is highlighted). For another, we can more realistically trace the interaction between the high nobles and their vulgar counterparts made during this period. The descendants of Seimei subsequently assumed the family name of Tsuchimikado and in the early 17th century, they were recognized under the shogun as nobles presiding over the official onmyōdō in the imperial court. The family competed with another aristocrat family for monopoly over this art form. For that purpose, the Tsuchimikado reached out to the vulgar onmyōji, and exploited control over the outcast by distributing licenses to them for selling calendars. Their aim was achieved when they were given exclusive right to the art in 1682, subordinating popular onmyōji nationwide.27 As Hayashi Kumiko indicates, it is suggestive in this regard that Seimei

A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman  69 was praised in The Shinoda Wife (1674), which appeared in the midst of this power struggle.28 It is also significant that Dōman, who was thought to be Seimei’s contemporary, is the opponent who is defeated by him in the “new” stories. Based on folkloric studies, Okiura Kazuteru suggests the possibility of Dōman representing the vulgar onmyōdō oppressed by the Tsuchimikado. And this is why Dōman leaves his trace as Seimei’s adversary in the existing stories.29 The relationship between high and low onmyōji set aside, it is interesting to see, in this vein, the high onmyōji’s insistence on power in history. In 1684, the shogunal government adopted a new calendar (the Jōkyō calendar), replacing the eight-​century-​old one (the Senmyō calendar) with its accumulated errors and local variations. The introduction of the new calendar, although formally announced by the Emperor, meant a loss of prestige for the court because this calendar was invented by a private scholar in service to the shogun, in lieu of the onmyōji who had prepared the alternative to the new calendar (which, to their shame, had not been adopted). As mentioned earlier, establishing a calendar through knowledge of the heavens is fundamental to ruling the universe. Then in 1755, a political maneuver by the Tsuchimikado lead the court to proclaim another new calendar, which people found worse than before; it was substituted in 1798 with another new one provided by shogunal astronomers with scientific knowledge, which was further revised in 1844. Thus, throughout the Edo period, a heavenly battle was fought between the imperial court and the shogunal government.30 We will examine this tension between the Emperor and the shogun in other contexts together with how they were reflected in bunraku plays in the following chapters. Returning to the problem of communication between the two classes of onmyōji, there is no way, at present, to ascertain how the “new” stories of Seimei were concerned with high onmyōji. However, one motif seems independent of the nobles: the origin of Seimei. For the high onmyōji, their prominent ancestor having had a fox mother does nothing for their prestige (it would have been better if Seimei had had an imperial origin, as many men of power have purported in history). If anything, this motif must have reflected the imagination of the people who promoted oral narratives like the Ur-​Shinodazuma.

The fox and the outcast The woods of Shinoda are located about 10 miles south of Abeno, at the southern end of central Osaka. Abeno is supposed to be the possible birthplace of Abe ​no Seimei. Today, the woods there are threatened with urbanization, but a Shintoist shrine from the 7th century –​Hijiri Jinja –​remains. (Nearby is a branch of the aforementioned shrine that commemorates Kuzunoha. It became popular after the success of A Courtly Mirror in the 18th century.) The lyrical travel interlude of the two Kuzunohas in Izumo’s play takes place between Abeno and the woods of Shinoda, because after Fox-​Kuzunoha has

70  A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman lived with Yasuna in Abeno, she returns to the place where her life was saved during the fox hunt. Orikuchi Shinobu (1887–​1953), a renowned poet and ethnologist, first indicated in 1924 that an oral narrative preceding The Shinoda Wife could have been born and shared by the ji’nin (god serf), an outcast group, affiliated to either a Buddhist temple or Shintoist shrine near Abeno.31 Orikuchi assumes that this Ur-​Shinodazuma was a sermon ballad or sekkyō-​bushi like Shintokumaru, which tells of the son of a local rich family; the hero, Shintokumaru, who not only became blind but was also affected by leprosy, is banished from his native land and beggars his way to the Shiten’nōji Temple (located near Abeno) before his salvation. As a sidenote, this subject is shared by the Noh piece Yoroboshi. The Ur-​Shinodazuma oral narrative was possibly told by the “god serfs” called Abeno dōji (infants of Abe) who, living in the isolated village of the outcasts, were as much despised as feared by local inhabitants for their fox ancestry and their use of conjuration. Orikuchi, using his poet’s intuition, speculates that a prototype of The Shinoda Wife included a story of how the god of the Shinoda Shrine emancipated a fox from bestiality and transformed it into deity. According to him, the narrative was then developed into the Ur-​Shinodazuma and diffused as a sermon ballad by the wandering “god serfs.” In our terms, they were precisely onmyōji = shōmoji. Orikuchi concludes his paper by alluding that the wife of Shinoda came from a foreign community. His final point was further developed by Morita Yoshinori, who studied the medieval performing arts with the purpose of elucidating the history of Japanese social discrimination. In his paper “Narrators of The Shinoda Wife,”32 Morita prompts us to consider the area around the Shinoda Shrine in the early modern period. In this neighborhood was a village of maitayū (Shintoist ritual dancers) who not only offered dances to the shrine, but also sold calendars under the Tsuchimikado’s license. Villagers from the area were descendants of medieval onmyōji  =  shōmoji. Moreover, there was another community that served the shrine through their annual “leather ceremony.” This village –​Minami Ōjimura (South Ōji village) –​was known for the social discrimination its inhabitants faced.33 The village was one of the kawata villages whose name recalls tanned leather (kawa), especially that of the cow. The problem was that, since the medieval period, the production of kawa had caused religious prejudice against the people who produced it, because Buddhism prohibits killing animals and Shintoism stresses both internal and external “purity.” Consequently, this production caused persistent social discrimination related to the contradictions of traditional Japanese society  –​ tanned leather was indispensable for warrior arms as well as ceremonial drums and other objects used in the court and temples. This social discrimination, however, was not limited to this particular profession. The discrimination –​or the problem of buraku (“village”)34 –​which still exists in Japan, was made up of a complex set of biases that encompassed occupation, living place, social

A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman  71 status, religion, and history. Let us look into its history for the sake of the present discussion. In the medieval period, the outcast or hinin (literally meaning “nonhuman”) included not only shōmoji performers but also those engaged in works considered “impure,” such as burials or the care of the diseased. Beggars were also considered hinin. They were also known as kawaramono, or people living on dried riverbeds. In Japan, the flow of the river fluctuates considerably, producing seemingly good places to live, even if temporarily. Meanwhile, dried riverbeds were considered neither inhabitable nor cultivable by settled farmers and rulers. This left such areas to become free space, or “asylums” in Amino’s terms,35 for nonsettlers, who were prone to be prejudiced thereby. It is worthy to note here that theatre people were often contemptuously called kawaramono, or people of the river bed, for their uprooted nature.36 It is well known that Zeami, who was given the privilege of being seated beside the shogun in the 14th century, was also viewed as a kawaramono by high aristocrats.37 In the early modern period, communities of outcasts were institutionalized by degrees.38 While they were not limited to riverbeds, they lived in segregated and unfavorable villages or living quarters. Tsukada Takashi indicates that in the early 17th century, villages of hinin were located on the outskirts of Osaka, just like pleasure quarters, and included some converted Christians (as they were considered “infected” with horrible heresy).39 Eta (meaning “very filthy”) were also discriminated people who did the “impure” work of treating dead cows and horses for leather tanning. But it was not rare that they were farmers as well who were unjustly treated by their neighbors, as was the case in the abovementioned South Ōji village. A clear distinction between hinin and eta (or between other terms applied to the discriminated) is almost impossible, as a multitude of theses and discussions have been made on these terms thus far.40 If we follow Philippe Pons’ (rather schematic) generalization, hinin referred to discriminated people in town, while eta were those who lived in segregated villages and occupied particular occupations such as leather tanning and leather sandal manufacturing (the major footwear of the Japanese in those days) or dyeing with Indigo blue.41 Hinin, on the other hand, included a variety of occupations such as itinerant performers and beggars soliciting charities (kanjin) as well as guards, investigators working for the police, and executers. In the Edo period, there were two types of hinin: hereditary outcasts and commoners degraded to hinin as a result of punishment or poverty.42 If a couple failed in a double suicide and either of them survived, for example, he or she would be sentenced to become an outcast. Ruined townspeople as well as peasants who had escaped from rural areas –​in other words, people with no fixed abode in the city –​were also considered hinin. The eta and, as aforementioned, most of the hinin were hereditary; they could not change their status as long as they were bound within their segregated quarters and villages. Meanwhile commoners (farmers and

72  A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman townspeople) could be promoted to the warrior class. A clear but invisible line was drawn between these people and outcasts. The heredity of the outcast was maintained by the refusal of “commoners” to marry them (this mindset still lingers on in the modern Japanese).43 Tacit convention required the outcasts to marry within their class, thus extending the discrimination through the ages. It is in this context that Morita proposes the interpretation that Fox-​ Kuzunoha in The Shinoda Wife represents a woman escaping the outcast community. Quoting another story from the 13th century about an aristocrat who saw, near the so-​called “leather pavilion” (Kōdō) in Kyoto, a beautiful woman escape into a house of kiyome or those engaged in “filthy” works, Morita suggests the prohibition of marriage had a long history.44 In addition to the presence of two segregated villages around the Shinoda Shrine, dense concentrations of discriminated villages can be found in the region around Osaka as well as regions around Kyoto and Nara  –​all historic centers of Japan. These facts tell us that this prejudice was incorporated into people’s lives in the early modern period and even afterward.

Between medievalism and modernity The weakness of Morita’s argument lies in his inability to produce documents proving his conjecture. While he admits that his concern lies in the unrecorded activities of Ur-​Shinodazuma narrators, from a positivist viewpoint it is difficult to establish their identity. Morita explains that the Shinoda Shrine was located on the road to the age-​old Kumano shrines deep in the mountains of the Ki’i Peninsula, south of Osaka. As is told by another sekkyō-​ bushi narrative called Oguri Hangan, Kumano attracted a host of pilgrims. In the narrative, the hero, revived from hell as an ugly, hungry ghost (gaki or preta), is brought on a cart, from station to station, to Kumano in hopes of relief. Morita thinks, like Orikuchi, that the narrators of the Ur-​Shinodazuma were onmyōji = shōmoji, related to Seimei through their connections to the shrines in Abeno and Shinoda, and that they were the ones who combined the two motifs of Seimei’s origin and glory as found in The Shinoda Wife. He infers that the narrative spread over routes like the Kumano road nationwide, borne by the people who were obliged to live in “inhuman misery like foxes.”45 More recently, Hayashi Kumiko suggests another possibility about the origin of the Ur-​Shinodazuma in terms of the Risshū school of Buddhism.46 Because sekkyō-​bushi, which stemmed from Buddhist sermons, was deeply concerned with the charity activities of the school, she speculates that the author may have been a Risshū priest who wrote the story for enlightenment, and that it was not necessarily related to the outcasts. Her discussion, however, is also based on circumstantial evidence and similarly remains hypothetical. However, another important source pinpoints the motif of the fox mother to a folkloric origin. It is a poem (waka) that says:

A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman  73 Your longing heart, Seek me in the land of Izumi. You’ll see in the woods of Shinoda, A leaf of Kuzu (Kuzunoha) in sorrow.47 The verse exists in a variety of texts ranging from an old annotated text on onmyōdō (Hokishō) to A Courtly Mirror, by way of The Shinoda Wife and other works treating the fox mother’s separation. In fact, the waka constitutes a leitmotif that runs throughout the entire narrative and becomes synonymous with Izumo’s play. Although its author is anonymous, Watanabe Morikuni, a strict philologist on this subject, admits that this waka likely reflected folklore about the fox mother.48 We can thereupon see how the theme evolved. In the annotated book (Hokishō), the mother is told as a wandering prostitute who, after having left her child, later appears before him in the woods in the figure of an old fox who is the incarnation of the Shinoda deity. The Hokishō focuses on the fox for its magical powers of transformation; however, unlike the poem, the sorrow of parting is scarcely dealt with. Then, as we have seen, other narrative details appeared with The Shinoda Wife. Morita as well as Hayashi speculate that the gap between the annotated text and The Shinoda Wife may be filled by an oral narrative, or the Ur-​Shinodazuma, which would have covered the grief of the oppressed people, or the prayers of the wandering performers. The above poem suggests that the narrative core of the Kuzunoha story possibly developed from the medieval imagination, including that of itinerant performers. At the same time, however, we must be aware of the lapse of time that separates the Ur-​Shinodazuma (in or before the early 17th century) and A Courtly Mirror (1734). In the first place, the latter was not created by sekkyō-​bushi narrators; it was the product of a refined playwright in the early modern period. While it is true that theatre people were always an object of contempt,49 those who were engaged in the business in authorized theatres in cities like Osaka and Edo were not the same as others who made their living as itinerant performers.50 As a famous lawsuit at the beginning of the 18th century tells,51 while the head of the hinin had exercised exclusive power over the performing rights of his wandering subordinates, their reach did not extend to authorized theatres in big cities. It is unlikely that Chikamatsu, of warrior origin, Takemoto Gidayū, who was the son of a farmer, or Takeda Izumo, whose father was a great entrepreneur, were discriminated, at least after their successes, in the city of Osaka. On the other hand, low-​ranking itinerant performers at the time, such as manzaishi (entertainers for cheerful celebrations), sarumawashi (showmen controlling trained monkeys), or kōshakushi (narrators of popular history), were found in the margins of society. Second, the economic situations of the outcasts were not uniform; as the presence of the above “head of hinin” indicates, differentiation within hinin and eta classes was also under way in the early modern period. Some of

74  A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman the outcasts, thanks to their businesses, became wealthier than commoners or even warriors, despite their status.52 Onmyōji or calendar vendors, for example, were not always poor outcasts. We find in Chikmatsu’s sewa-mono play The Almanac Maker and the Old Almanac (Daikyōji mukashigoyomi, 1715)53 that calendar distribution was a big business in Kyoto; it brought illustrated calendars, which were the precursors of ukiyo-e, and they enjoyed great popularity in the mid-19th century.54 While poor onmyōji = shōmoji still existed the in the 18th century (the heirs of the medieval itinerant performers), under such commercialization of the calendar distribution business, it is unlikely that they could have propagated the legend of Kuzunoha. The problem, then, is to what extent the presence of the outcasts affected Izumo’s version of Kuzunoha. It must be mentioned in this regard that Chikamatsu was certainly conscious of the discriminated people, for he treated them in another of his sewa-​mono plays, Love Suicides in Mid-​summer with an Icy Blade (1709).55 The play is about a blacksmith mad about a courtesan. The hero (Heibei) is desperately in need of money to free his lover from the pleasure quarters and get married. He therefore takes an order from two merchants coming from the Yamato Province. Curiously, they decline both the fire for tobacco and tea that Heibei’s master (Riemon) offers, even though they look wealthy. Seeing this, Riemon understands that they are outcasts, because eta are forbidden to share fire or drinks (or food) with commoners. In addition, because blacksmiths consider fire as sacred, Riemon refuses to deal with these “filthy” people using “filthy” fire. He makes a mockery of Heibei who insists on gaining money in such a fashion and looks down upon him. Icy Blade is a rare bunraku play in which social discrimination is rendered in a straightforward fashion by Chikamatsu’s lucid eyes. A Courtly Mirror, on the other hand, has a scene in which Dōman appears as a disguised hinin. The plot of disguised hinin, however, can be seen in other bunraku plays, and does not sufficiently tell that Izumo was concerned in depicting the outcast like Chikamatsu. Moreover, we must be careful with simply identifying the figure of the fox with the discriminated; as told in Chapter 1, there is another famous play in which a fox who is transformed into a human being assumes an important role –​Fox Tadanobu in Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees –​and we cannot take this fox as a direct incarnation of the outcast. In the end, besides circumstantial evidence, we cannot be sure about Izumo’s recognition of the discriminated. The presence of hinin was no doubt familiar to bunraku playwrights. Such hinin included not only those who had been sentenced to the status due to their survival of double suicides or personal bankruptcy but also town guards, investigators, street performers, and executers with the same hinin status. Besides, in the suburbs of Osaka (much like in Kyoto and Nara), there also existed segregated villages that delivered tanned leather to wholesale dealers in the city.56

A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman  75 Whatever the case, it is Takeda Izumo I’s modern version of Kuzunoha and not the archaic The Shinoda Wife that succeeded in creating the definite image of the fox mother. Izumo’s originality is found, in the first place, in the device of the double Kuzunohas set in a contemporary situation while the general setting of the play focuses on the conflict between two high nobles over heavenly control, involving not only astrologers, but also commoners and villains. Kuzunoha as an incarnation of the oppressed people, especially that of the outcast as first suggested by Orikuchi and then argued by Morita, is a thought-​provoking hypothesis not only for the Ur-​Shinodazuma, but also for A Courtly Mirror. Their keen insights, whether they be historically true or not, bring a distancing effect to the play, which is generally seen as depicting a sentimental separation of mother and child. The modern kabuki adaptation of the play, in this respect, is more spectacular because, besides sentimentality, it features keren or broad stage effects such as the two Kuzunohas played by the same actor, the quick change of Kuzunoha into a fox, or Kuzunoha writing the above cited poem on a paper screen using her mouth (because foxes lack dexterity).57 The attraction of the bunraku original version lies, on the other hand, in the mixture of modernity, borrowed from Chikamatsu’s realistic sewa-​mono plays, with the medievalism of the sekkyō-​bushi, through which we get a glimpse of a shadowy world of discrimination.

Notes 1 Kyōhō is the era name between 1716 and 1736. 2 Kubori Hiroaki (2011, p. 3). For an English translation and a note on the play, see Gerstle (2001). 3 To be precise, Chikamatsu died in the 11th month of Kyōhō 9 in the lunar calendar, which corresponds to January 1725 while The Tethered Steed was produced in the first month of Kyōhō 9 (1724 in the solar calendar). The original title is Kanhasshū tsunagiuma. CZ 12. The play is translated by Gerstle (2001). 4 Kubori (2009, p. 2). 5 The authentic appellation of the title is Ashiya no Dōman ōuchi kagami, but in what follows we shall use the commonly known name of Ashiya Dōman ōuchi kagami. 6 The English title is Miraculous Stories from the Japanese Buddhist Tradition. Kyōkai (1996). 7 Katō Atsuko (2017, pp. 34–​35). 8 Abe no seimei monogatari (The Story of Abe no Seimei). For details of the story, see Watanabe Morikuni (1989, p. 137). 9 For the printed text, see Kokusho Kankōkai (1970). 10 Kuroki Kanzō (1997, p. 98). 11 The English title is ours. Kino Kaion (1977). 12 Kuroki (1997, p. 98). 13 Katō (2017, p. 32). 14 Kaion (1977, p. 336).

76  A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman 15 Chikamatsu, Futago Sumidagawa (HD: Twins at the Sumidagawa), 1720, CZ 11. The play is translated into English by Gerstle as The Twins at the River of Sumida (Gerstle, 2001). 16 Takeda Izumo I (1991, p. 119). 17 The suffix “​no” after a family name, such as “Abe ​no,” means a place of origin like “of ” in English (e.g., Duke of York). 18 https://​en.wikipedia.org/​wiki/​Abe_​no_​Seimei. Last consulted on December 6, 2019. 19 For the life of Abe ​no Seimei and onmyōdō, see Suwa (2000) and Shigeta Shin’ichi (2006). 20 Chikamatsu, CZ 9. The English title is ours. 21 There were two kinds of Buddhist monks in Japan: those officially permitted to become priests and others who privately renounced the world, in other words, would-​be  monks. 22 For onmyōji in the Heian Period, see Shigeta (2006). 23 Morita Yoshinori (1994, p. 234). See also Kyoto Burakushi Kenkyūjo (1989). 24 Amino Yoshihiko (2008, pp. 45–​72). 25 For this problem, see, for example, Kaga Yoshiko (1991) and Hayashi Kumiko (2017). Watanabe Morikuni, who studied the literature of this period from a philological standpoint, on the other hand, denies the presence of the foregoing narrative. See Watanabe Morikuni (1989). 26 For a general introduction to sekkyō-​bushi, see Muroki Yatarō (1977). 27 For the control of the Tsuchimikado over onmyōji, see Hayashi Makoto (2005) and Murayama Shūichi et al. (1992). 28 Hayashi (2017, p. 212). 29 Ogiura Kazuteru (2017, p. 95). 30 For the calendar battle in the Edo period, see Nakamura Tsukou (2012). 31 Orikuchi Shinobu (1929). 32 Morita (1994). 33 For a pioneer work on the village (it has since been studied by many researchers), see Morita Yoshinori, Okamoto Ryōichi and Mori Sugio (1979). 34 In the modern period, discriminated communities in Japan were referred to as “(special) villages” (tokushu buraku). See Timothy. D Amos (2011, p. 22). 35 Amino (2012, p. 282). 36 For kawaramono, see Gunji Masakatsu (2002) and Morita (1994). See also Amino (2012, p. 187). 37 Burakumondai Kenkyūjo (1985, p. 156). 38 Amos (2011, p. 82). 39 Tsukada Takashi (2013, p. 25). 40 For this problem, see, for example, Amos (2011); Burakumondai Kenkyūjo (1985); Fujisawa Seisuke (2013); Teraki Nobuaki (1996, 2014). 41 Philippe Pons (1999, pp. 70–​74). 42 Takayanagi Kaneyoshi (1981, pp. 17–​36). 43 For the problem of marriage discrimination in modern Japan, see Saitoh Naoko (2017). 44 Morita (1994, p. 238). 45 Ibid. 46 Hayashi (2017, p. 215).

A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman  77 47 The translation is ours. The original text is:  Koishikuha /​Tazunekitemiyo /​ Izuminaru /​Shinodanomorino /​Uramikuzunoha. Cody Poulton, who translated the kabuki version of Lady Kuzunoha, translated the poem as follows: “If you long for me, /​Come seek me in Izumi, /​where, in the forest of Shinoda, /​you’ll find your Kuzu /​of the clinging vine” (Poulton, 2002, p. 143). 48 Watanabe (1988, p. 189). 49 For this problem, see Gunji (2002). 50 Kyoto burakushi kenkyūjo (1989, p. 86). 51 Tsukada (1992, p. 278). 52 Amos (2011, p. 87). Takayanagi (1981, pp. 55–​56). 53 CZ 9. 54 Nakamura (2012, pp. 85–​87). See also Kuwahara (2013). 55 The title translation is by Gerstle. The original title is Shinjū yaiba wa kōri no tsuitachi, CZ 5. Gerstle makes a remarkable analysis of the play from the viewpoint of musical notation. See Gerstle (1986, pp. 42–​48). For a French translation of the play, see Sieffert (1991). 56 For the dealing of tanned leather between discriminated villages around Osaka and whole sellers in the city, see Osaka no Burakushi Iinkai (2009, p. 178). 57 For the translation of the kabuki version of Kuzunoha and its brief introduction, see Poulton (2002, p. 145).

Bibliography Amino Yoshihiko. 2008. “Chūsei no tabibitotachi [Travelers in Medieval Times].” In Amino Yoshihiko chosakushū [Collected Works of Amino Yoshihiko], Vol. 11: 3–​108. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. (First published in 1984.) —​—​—​. 2012. Rethinking Japanese History. Tranlated and with an Introduction by Alan. S. Christy. Preface and Afterword by Hitomi Tonomura. Ann Arbor: Center for Japanese Studies, University of Michigan. Amos, Timothy D. 2011. Embodying Difference: The Making of Burakumin in Modern Japan. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press. Burakumondai Kenkyūjo [Research Center on the Buraku Issue], ed. 1985. Buraku no rekishi to kaihō undō:  zenkindai hen [Buraku History and the Movement of Liberation: The Pre-​Modern Period]. Kyoto: Burakumondai Kenkyūjo. Fujisawa Seisuke. 2013. Buraku sabetsu no rekishi: shokunō/​bungyō, shakaiteki chii, rekishiteki seikaku [The History of Buraku D ​ iscrimination: Work Functions/​Division of Labor, Social Status, Historical Characteristics]. Osaka: Kaihō shuppansha. Gerstle, C. Andrew. 1986. Circles of Fantasy: Convention in the Plays of Chikamatsu. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. —​ —​ —​ , trans. & annot. 2001. Chikamatsu 5 Later Plays. New  York:  Columbia University Press. Gunji Masakatsu. 2002. “Kawaramono to geijustu [Kawaramono and the Arts].” In Kabuki hasseishi ronshū [Historical Studies on the Origins of Kabuki], edited by Torigoe Bunzō. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. (First published in 1952.) Hayashi Kumiko. 2017. “Shinodazuma toiu katarimono: kitsune to monju ga takushita mono [An Oral Narrative Called The Shinoda Wife: Its Implication of Kitsune and Monju Bodhisattva].” In Sekkyo:  hito wa shinbutsuni naniwo takusōto surunoka [Sermon Narratives:  What People Sought in Buddhist and Shintoist Deities].

78  A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman Kōbe:  Kōbejoshi daigaku kotengeino kenkyūsentā [Research Center for Classic Performing Arts at Kōbe Women’s University]. Hayashi Makoto. 2005. Kinsei onyōdō no kenkyū [Study of Early Modern Onyōdō]. Tokyo: Yoshikawakōbunkan. Kaga Yoshiko. 1991. “Kojōruri Shinodazuma no seiritsu:  nakamaru to abenodōji [The Formation of Early Bunraku The Shinoda Wife:  Nakamaru and Abenodōji].” In Geinōshi kenkyū [History of the Performing Arts]:  32–​52. Tokyo: Geinōshi Kenkyūkai. Katō Atsuko. 2017. “Kitsune nyōbo ni miru ikai:  futari no kuzunoha ga deaukoto [A Different World Seen through the Story of the Fox Wife:  The Encounter of the Two Kuzunohas].” In Hikakunihongaku kyōikukenkyūsentā nenpō [Annals of the Research and Education Center for Comparative Japanese Studies]:  31–​38. Tokyo: Ochanomizu University. Available as e-​text: Ochanomizu University Web Library: http://​hdl.handle.net/​10083/​60933. Kino Kaion. 1977. “Shinoda no mori on-​na urakata [The Woman Fortune-​Teller in the Woods of Shinoda],” “Onikage musashi abumi.” In Kino Kaion Zenshu [The Complete Works of Kino Kaion], Vol. 1: 296–​349, edited by Kaion kenkyūkai [Study Group on Kaion]. Osaka: Seibundō Shuppan. Kokusho Kankōkai, ed. 1970. Tokugawa bungei ruishū [The Collected Works of Edo Period Literature], Vol. 8, Joruri. Tokyo: Kokusho kankōkai. Kubori Hiroaki. 2009. “Jōrurishi no naka no Sugawaradenju tenaraikagami [Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy in the History of Bunraku].” In Kamigata bunka kōza: Sugawaradenju tenaraikagami. [Lecture on Osaka Culture: Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy]: 1–​16. Osaka: Izumishoin. —​—​—​. 2011. “Chikamatsu and the State in the Kyōhō Era: The Journey to Kanhasshū Tsunagiuma.” Translated by Joseph Ryan. UrbanScope 2:  2–​ 18. Available as e-​text: http://​urbanscope.lit.osaka-​cu.ac.jp/​journal/​vol.002.html. Kuroki Kanzō. 1997. Kuzunoha gikyoku no keitōteki kenkyū [A Systematic Study of the Plays of Kuzunoha]. In Kinsei engeki kōsetsu [Studies of Early Modern Theatre]: 90–​113 (reprinted as Joruri. Kinsei bungei kenkyū sōsho, Vol. 26, Book 6). Tokyo. Kuresu shuppan. (First published in 1929.) Kuwahara Asako. 2013. “Chikamatsu Monzaemon Daikyōji mukashigoyomi wo megutte: Jōkyō kaireki zengo no nihon no shakaikōzō [Chikamastu Monzaemon’s The Almanac Maker and the Old Almanac: The Japanese Social Structure Before and After the Jōkyō Calendar Reform].” Hokudai Hōgaku Ronshū [The Hokkaido Law Review] 64(2): 1–​59 and 64(3): 125–​164. Available as e-​text: http://​hdl.handle. net/​2115/​53005. Kyōkai. 1996. Miraculous Stories from the Japanese Buddhist Tradition:  The Nihon Ryoiki of the Monk Kyokai. Translated by Kyoko Motomochi Nakamura. London and New York: Routledge. (First published in 1973.) Kyoto Burakushi Kenkyūjo [Kyoto Research Center of Buraku History], ed. 1989. Kinsei no minshū to geinou [The People and Performing Arts of the Early Modern Period]. Kyoto: Au’nsha. Morita Yoshinori. 1994. “Shinodazuma no katarite [Narrators of The Shinoda Wife].” In Chūsei senmin to zatsugei no kenkyū [A Study of Medieval Outcasts and Their Various Arts]. Tokyo: Yūzankaku. (First published in 1974.) Morita Yoshinori, Okamoto Ryōichi and Mori Sugio. 1979. Aru hisabetsu buraku no rekishi: izumikoku minami ōji mura [A History of a Dicriminated Buraku: South Ōji Village in Izumi Province]. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten.

A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman  79 Murayama Shūichi, Shimode Sekiyo, Nakamura Shōhachi, Kiba Akeshi, Kosaka Shinji, Seko Shinya, and Yamashita Katsuaki, ed. 1992. Onyōdō sōsho [Collective Studies of Onyōdō], Vol. 3 Kinsei [Early Modern Period]. Tokyo: Meicho shūppan. Muroki Yatarō, annot. 1977. Sekkyōshū [Collected Works of Sekkyō]. Shinchō Nihon koten shūsei [Shinchō Collection of Japanese Classic Literature]. Tokyo: Shinchōsha. Nakamura Tsukou, superv. 2012. Edo no tenmongaku: Shibukawa Harumi to Edojidai no kagakushatachi [Astronomy in the Edo Period: Shibukawa Harumi and the Edo Scientists]. Tokyo: Kadokawa Gakugei Shuppan. Ogiura Kazuteru. 2017. Onyōji towa nanika:  hisabetsu no genzōwo saguru [What Constituted Onyōji (Onmyōji)?: A Search for the Origins of Social Discrimination]. Tokyo: Kawadeshobō shinsha. (First published in 2004.) Orikuchi Shinobu. 1929. “Shinodazuma no hanashi [Accounts of The Shinoda Wife].” Kodai Kenkyū [The Study of Early Japan] 1(2): 342–​398. (First pubulished in 1924 as an article in the Review Mita Hyōron.) Available as e-​text:  www.aozora.gr.jp/​ cards/​000933/​files/​18402_​14348.html. Osaka no Burakushi Iinkai [Committee for Publishing Buraku History in Osaka], ed. 2009. Osaka no burakushi [Buraku History in Osaka], Vol. 10. Osaka: Burakukaihō jinkenmondai kenkyjo [Research Center of Buraku Liberation and Human Rights]. Pons, Philippe. 1999. Misère et crime au Japon du XVIIe siècle à nos jours. Paris: Éditions Gallimard. Poulton, Cody, trans. 2002. “Lady Kuzunoha.” In Kabuki Plays on Stage Vol. 1, edited by James R. Brandon and Samuel Leiter. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press. Saitoh Naoko. 2017. Kekkon sabetsu no shakaigaku [Sociology of Marriage Discrimination]. Tokyo: Keisō shobō. Sieffert, René, trans. 1991. “Shinjū yaiba wa kōri no tusitachi [De glace est la lame au premier jour du mois].” In Chikamatsu. Les Tragédies bourgeoises, tome II: 241–289. Paris: Publications Orientalistes de France. Shigeta Shin’ichi. 2006. Abeno Seimei: Onmyōjitachi no heian jidai [Abeno Seimei: The Heian Period and the Onmyōji]. Tokyo: Yoshikawakōbunkan. Suwa Haruo. 2000. Abe Seimei densetsu [The Legend of Abe Seimei]. Tokyo: Chikuma shobō. Takayanagi Kaneyoshi. 1981. Edo jidai hinin no seikatsu [Life of the Hinin in the Edo Period]. Tokyo: Yūzankaku shuppan. (First published in 1971.) Takeda Izumo I. 1991. “Ashiya Dōman ōuchi kagami [A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman].” Annotated by Tsunoda Ichirō and Uchiyama Mikiko. In Takeda Izumo, Namiki Sousuke Jōrurishū [Bunraku Pieces by Takeda Izumo and Namiki Sousuke]. Shin-nihon koten bungaku taikei [New Collection of Japanese Classic Literature] 93. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. Teraki Nobuaki. 1996. Hisabetsu buraku no kigen [The Origins of Discriminated Buraku]. Tokyo: Akashi shoten. —​—​—​. 2014. Kinsei hisabetsu minshūshi no kenkyū [Study of Discriminated People in the Early Modern Period]. Kyoto: Au’nsha. Tsukada Takashi. 1992. “Geinōsha no shakaiteki chii [The Social Status of Performers].” In Jōruri no sekai [The World of Bunraku]:  278–​ 298, edited by Sakaguchi Hiroyuki. Kyoto: Sekaishisōsha. —​—​—​. 2013. Osaka no hinin: kojiki, Shiten-​nōji, korobi kirishitan [Hinin in Osaka: Beggars, the Shiten-​nōji Temple, and Converted Christians]. Tokyo: Chikuma shobō.

80  A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman Watanabe Morikuni. 1988. “Hokishō izen:  kitsune no ko abenodōji no monogatari [Before Hokishō:  A Story of Abenodōji, the Child of a Fox].” In Kokubungaku Kenkyūshiryōkan kiyō [Departmental Bulletin]:  63–​113. Tokyo:  Kokubungaku Kenkyūshiryōkan [National Institute of Japanese Literature]. Available as e-​ text: https://​kokubunken.repo.nii.ac.jp/​. —​—​—​. 1989. “Kitsune no kowakare bungei no keifu [The Literary Tradition of the Fox Mother’s Separation from Her Child].” Kokubungaku Kenkyūshiryōkan kiyō [Departmental Bulletin], no. 15: 135–​165. Available as e-​text: https://​kokubunken. repo.nii.ac.jp.

4  Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy The Emperor and the stability of society

Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy is a play that shows the tragedies of the subordinate, or the involvement of commoners in the power struggles of the nobility. As the central figure of the play, Sugawara no Michizane, is treated as a “likeness” of the Emperor, we must first discuss the imperial status in the Edo period. Besides, much folklore had been accumulated around Michizane, and a study of these preceding stories helps us understand the dramaturgy of the Takemoto-​za playwriting team, who adapted these legends into this dramatic piece.

The Emperor in the early modern period Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy (Sugawara denju tenarai kagami:  a literal translation of the title is A Mirror for Learning Taught by Sugawara, 1746), like A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman, treats a historical ­figure  –​ Sugawara no Michizane1 (845–​903). Sugawara was a statesman and scholar who died after being relegated from a high-​ranking position in the capital to a modest rank positioned in western Japan (Kyūshū), as the result of a power struggle in the court. Readers may ask why bunraku playwrights were interested in remote events several centuries before their age. Sugawara, like Abe no Seimei, lived in the Heian period (from 794 to 1185), when the aristocracy prospered. The entire period afforded a story world, or sekai, from which bunraku authors would conceive their individual pieces. Sugawara thereby represents a world in which the Emperor reigned under the hierarchy of court nobles and little care was paid to warriors, whose class scarcely appeared in the play. As explained in the Introduction, however, history plays in bunraku did not intend to be historical reconstructions of the past. In the play, we must seek not so much a representation of the courtly conflicts of the 9th century as a projection of the political concerns of the people in the 18th century, including those of the Emperor himself, which forms the starting point for this play; what would happen if the Emperor was completely deprived of his power? Before providing an annotation of the play from this viewpoint, we shall briefly discuss the Emperor’s status in the early modern period.

82  Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy The Constitution of Japan today prescribes the Emperor as “the symbol of the State.” If this modern interpretation seems to also embody the traditional imperial figure, it is because the Emperor was disempowered as early as the Heian period by the influential aristocratic family of the Fujiwara (in Sugawara, the hero’s opponent belongs to this family), and then, by the advent of powerful warriors from the 12th century onward. In Japanese history, the status of the Emperor has remained nominal, at least since the 11th century, except for rare cases when the Emperor regained his power. The imperial position was not based on an explicit agreement of stakeholders. The power of the Emperor had been minimized according to the will of dominant political figures throughout the ages. The bipolar system of the Emperor and political leaders worked well as long as both parties profited from a tacit understanding of their shared power and prestige. When it comes to foreign relations, however, the ambiguity of the system posed a major problem, for no one could truly say who the sovereign of the state was. This was what happened during the shogunal reign in the Edo period. As Yamamoto Shichihei notes with irony, when the historical figure Zheng Zhilong (“old Iquan” in The Battles of Coxinga) fought against the Manchus in China and requested for Japanese auxiliary troops, he sent the message addressed to both the Emperor and the shogun, as he once lived in Japan and certainly knew the particular ruling system. His consideration, however, perplexed shogunal servants because they were unable to determine who the note was really addressed to –​the shogun or the Emperor?2 While they knew the shogun was the de facto supreme ruler of the country, they could not neglect the presence of the Emperor. As a matter of fact, when Tokugawa Ieyasu, the first Tokugawa shogun, came to power in the early 17th century, he limited the Emperor’s power to the management of courtly affairs such as ennoblement and Shintoist ceremonies. However, Ieyasu had to be installed as shogun by the Emperor to demonstrate the legitimacy of his rule and subordinate all feudal lords to inferior and nominal courtly ranks accorded thereby. While it was a completely formal procedure followed by every shogun after Ieyasu, the Tokugawa regime’s weakness was their need for an external authority other than itself. Another problem of the regime was that the position of shogun had to be hereditary like the monarchy. The two hereditary systems coexisted in an arrangement in which the Emperor had the historical orthodoxy of trusting power to politically influential persons. For the Emperor, the Tokugawa was only one of the politically influential families who had assumed power over the past millennium. For the Tokugawa, it would have been better if they could have declared their divine rights over the shogunal regime, but it was impossible. Even though the servants of the Tokugawa deified Ieyasu after his death, everyone knew that he had become a ruler by power. Besides, the Tokugawa had to cling to the genetic lineage of the shogunate because if it became clear that conferment was at the disposal of the Emperor, other feudal lords who had been subordinated to them in the course of the country’s

Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy  83 unification could theoretically claim the title, and this would be a nightmare for Ieyasu’s heirs. The contradictory relationship between the shogun and the Emperor was also reflected in diplomatic relations with Korea; Koreans addressed messages to the shogun referring to him as the Japanese “king,” because in the Sinocentric tributary system that Korea followed, sovereigns in countries subordinated to China were called kings while the only Emperor was in China. The Tokugawa government, which did not want to be incorporated into this ideology, coined a particular title of their own to be used in diplomacy –​the Tycoon  –​because the shogun, which means general in Chinese, seemed to lack authority. Here again, it was Arai Hakuseki, a rationalist in early modern Japan, who tried to correct the singularity of Japan in international affairs. He proposed that the shogun call himself “King of Japan” since he was the real ruler of the country.3 His idea, for better and for worse, was short-​lived as the Shogun Yoshimune and his successors, respecting the Emperor, preferred the title of Tycoon, which would subsequently be used by Matthew Perry as a synonym of the sovereign, causing catastrophic damage to the Tokugawa regime in the mid-​19th century.4 For the imperial court, cohabitation with the Tokugawa was by no means amicable during the first stage. Different from the former warrior leader Toyotomi Hideyoshi, who established legitimacy as a ruler by assuming the status of a top-​ranking aristocrat, Ieyasu kept his distance from the court, founding the warrior’s independent government in the new capital of Edo, far east of Kyoto. Ieyasu formulated a set of regulations applied to the Emperor and court nobles (kinchū narabini kuge shohatto) to restrict their political activities. Under the system, the Emperor could not nominate high nobles to courtly ranks without the consent of the shogunal agent in Kyoto.5 Most affairs concerning imperial action required prior negotiation. Moreover, the Edo government also resorted to a traditional way of exerting control over the court: the strategic marriage between the Emperor and the shogun’s daughter. Thus in 1620, Masako (or Kazuko), daughter of the Shogun Hidetada, was married to the Emperor Go-Mizuno’o (1596–​1680: as mentioned, Chikamatsu once served his younger brother). However, Go-Mizuno’o, weary of continuous interference by the shogunal government, suddenly abdicated in 1629, without permission from the Edo government, leaving the throne to his daughter with Masako, who was then only seven years old. Ōishi Shinzaburō relates an anecdote about Masako after she was abandoned by the Emperor; she fell madly in love with sumptuous kimonos made from imported costly Chinese silk, thereby contributing to foreign trade as well as the development of the Japanese textile industry.6 The Edo government required the imperial court to devote their time to the conservation of ceremonies, scholarship, and cultural activities. Insofar as they were occupied with these spheres, the relationship between Kyoto and Edo was easy.

84  Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy However, even amid the restrictions on their political power, emperors of the Edo period remained conscious of their status as ruler of the country. They learned the art of kingcraft even though they were no longer in touch with real politics,7 because, as the Emperor’s Japanese title (Ten-nō: heavenly sovereign) indicates, they were responsible for the overall peace of the world. When disasters such as famines or great fires, which were not rare in cities during the Edo period, occurred, the Emperor sent imperial envoys to the Shintoist Ise Shrine to appease the gods causing the calamity. If the disaster were more ruinous, the era name would also be changed. The Japanese era name (gengō), derived from Chinese tradition, has strong political connotations because it implies, like its Chinese counterpart, that those who governed on earth were endowed with legitimacy from heaven, hence their right to formulate the heavenly order, that is, era name. In the Edo period, era names were changed not only on the occasion of a new emperor or shogun’s inauguration, but, as aforementioned, also as a consequence of national disasters, as such disasters were taken as signs that “the time is out of joint.” This was the case for the name change from the Genroku to the Hōei era (1704), which was caused by the huge Genroku earthquake in 1703 that hit the city of Edo. Although changing the era name required consultation with the shogun, the Emperor had as much authority as responsibility for such events. Besides era name changes, people were reminded of the Emperor in the Edo period in other ways such as being required to refrain from amusement for seven  days after the decease of the Emperor, while the duration was prolonged to 50 days for the shogun. In Kyoto, mourning for the Emperor lasted as long as the latter.8 The Emperor was thus concerned with people’s lives as part of the heavenly order, and this, in turn, assured that heavenly order would continue.

Faith in the Tenjin and Sugawara no Michizane The case of Sugawara no Michizane, who was enshrined as a Shintoist deity called the Tenjin after his death, illustrates how natural disasters were connected to misgovernment in the aristocracy. Historical facts prove that, after Michizane died in exile, Fujiwara no Tokihira, the high noble who had fought against him, as well as his followers and two crown princes died one after another. In addition, the imperial palace was hit by thunder, which incurred many casualties, while the Emperor himself passed away in three months. These incidents were interpreted as the curse of the dead Michizane who was enraged by the imperial court that had made the mistake of promoting Tokihira and his band. The court posthumously elevated Michizane’s rank and appeased the vengeful spirit through apotheosis. It was the first time that a human being became a Shintoist deity. At present, among the approximately 80,000 Shintoist shrines nationwide, those dedicated to the Tenjin (Michizane) account for more than 10,000

Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy  85

Figure 4.1 Revengeful spirit of Michizane. © Kitano Tenmangu Shrine.

shrines in the country.9 This fact suggests that faith in the Tenjin is rooted in wider popular folklore as opposed to just his deification in the aristocratic sphere; in fact, scholars indicate that the Tenjin (which literally means “heavenly deity”) was originally an agricultural deity who brought harvest by thunder and rain.10 The Tenjin was also feared as a vengeful spirit that caused epidemics. This folklore is thought to have been personified and merged with the faith that deified Michizane around the 13th century. Faith in the Tenjin (Michizane) absorbed, through the centuries, facts as well as legends, growing into the narrative shown in the beautiful Illustrated Handscroll of Legends of Kitano Tenjin Shrine (Kitano Tenjin Engi Emaki), which is conserved in the Kitano Tenmangū Shrine in Kyoto, the head shrine dedicated to Michizane (another version of the scroll is housed in the Metropolitan Museum of Art). Narratives of Michizane include many anecdotal details. First, because he was born into a family of scholars and was himself a prominent professor of literature, he was worshipped as the deity of scholarship. Adoration of this facet of Michizane reached commoners in the Edo period with the spread of primary education through terakoyas, or private schools. Michizane’s expertise in two skills were especially renowned:  calligraphy and poetry. His fame as an excellent calligrapher must be understood in relation to the spirituality of the art; it not only expresses the beauty of handwriting, but also reflects personal integrity. He was also known for his poems (wakas), among which the best known is said to have been made during his exile. It reads: When blows the eastern wind, Send to me your fragrance, O flower of the plum.11 Though absent from your master, Forget not the season of spring.12 The verse gave rise to the legend that Michizane was particularly fond of plum blossoms traditionally loved by the Chinese. Naganuma Kenkai further points

86  Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy out that the legend was propagated by Zen Buddhist monks influenced by Chinese culture in the 14th century and that Michizane’s affection for cherry blossoms was also emphasized from this period.13 He further argues that if these two flowers were to accompany the figure of Michizane, it would be only natural that the other favorite plant of the Japanese, the pine, should also enter into the legend.14 This leads us to another poem that has been attributed to him in posterity: The plum has flown to my side, The cherry has withered away. Why in this indifferent world Yet stands so heartless the pine.15 The verse follows the symbolism of trees in Japanese culture. Plum trees are appreciated by the Chinese as they bloom in the winter and act as the forerunners of spring, and this inclination was imported to Japan. Cherry blossoms are the most beloved by the Japanese because they tell of the heights as well as the ephemerality of springtime. Finally, because pines are evergreen, they represent longevity through all such seasonal changes. For this reason, they are sacred trees by way of which deities make their apparition and that is why they are painted on the wooden wall (mirror wall) at the back of the Noh stage. The motif of these three trees also appears in the Noh play Hachi no ki (The Potted Trees), in which a modest warrior in the countryside welcomes a traveling monk calling on him in the winter –​his lord incognito –​with a fire made of pine, plum, and cherry trees, which he cherishes. As noted, there were (are) many shrines dedicated to Michizane (Tenmangū shrines) in the country. In Osaka, for example, there is the Osaka Tenmangū Shrine, the center of the Tenjin faith in the city, which was founded by the imperial order in the 10th century when seven pine trees miraculously appeared at the place where the banished Michizane had stopped. As mentioned in the Introduction, the shrine’s great annual summer ceremony, the Tenjin festival, has been a popular attraction since the olden days. In the eastern suburb of Osaka, there is another shrine related to Michizane: the Dōmyō-​ji Temple,16 where he visited his aunt who was living as a Buddhist priestess. The Shrine has a legend that when Michizane, on his way to exile, talked with his aunt all night, a crowing cock proclaimed the hour of dawn. Before departure, he wrote a poem deploring cock’s crow.17 Prior to Bunraku, various aspects of Michizane’s legends were dramatized as Noh plays such as Oimatsu (The Aged Pine), Dōmyō-​ji (The Dōmyō-​ji Temple), and Raiden (Thunder and Lightning). In Oimatsu written by Zeami, the spirit of the old pine –​a symbol of longevity and peacefulness –​commemorates the anecdote of Michizane and his beloved plum that flew across the skies to him in Dazaifu, where he was exiled. In Dōmyō-​ji, an old man called Shiratayū reveals himself to be a divine messenger of the deified high noble. Worship of

Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy  87 Shiratayū was incorporated into the legend of Michizane in the late medieval period.18 Finally, Raiden treats the confrontation between the vengeful spirit of the ex-​minister and a Buddhist monk, his former master.19 In interpreting Sugawara, we should note that the audience, especially in Osaka, was more or less familiar with the legendary anecdotes concerning Michizane. The main task of the playwrights, consequently, was to reconstruct them in a coherent fashion with dramatic interest, while the action of the play was predetermined by known historical facts regarding the hero: his banishment from the court, lamentation in exile, and vengeance, all of which were facts well known to the people. From this perspective, it was not a prerequisite for the entire play to be conceived and finished by a single author; the playwriting work could be divided into each anecdotal component. The multiple authorship of bunraku plays became a practice in the 1720s20 because, for one part, there lacked a giant like Chikamatsu and for the other, theatre managers as well as playwrights had to cope with the audience’s expectation for more elaborate and spectacular plays. The multiple authorship system required the playwrights to first invent an intriguing device, or shukō, that would underlie the whole dramatic world, and then to write plots based on this shukō, with each author taking charge of their assigned part. In the case of Sugawara, the shukō, or the dramatic device, is the parting between parent and child depicted from different angles in three parts (from Part 2 to Part 4). However, the uniqueness of the play’s dramatic device lies in another invention that the partings are also assigned to the triplets named, after Michizane’s legendary poem, Cherry boy (Sakuramaru), Plum boy (Umeōmaru), and Pine boy (Matsuōmaru), respectively (“boy” here denotes a male servant). Here we find a dramaturgy of the pun, or the development of a plot starting from associations to particular words. As a side note, the birth of triplets in Osaka’s Tenma area (nearby the Tenmangū Shrine) was a hot topic of the day21 and the playwrights certainly made use of this event to attract public attention. Such was the fabric of the play: the warp was Michizane’s relegation while the weft was the fate of the triplets. To make the situation even more dramatic, while two of the triplets are on the side of the good statesman, the other works for the evil minister Shihei (the alias of Fujiwara no Tokihira in the play). In addition, their relationship coincides with Michizane’s waka; the plum and the cherry are loyal to their lord, but the pine is cold-​hearted. The remaining task for the playwrights was to fill in the other anecdotal elements of the play, such as how the hero’s fame as a calligrapher would be dramatized. This was realized by introducing his disciple who was expelled for some reason or other and by subsequently showing the master’s clemency. Because there were also many terakoya private elementary schools in cities like Osaka,22 where Michizane was respected as the deity of scholarship, a school scene was also inserted to appeal to terakoya masters and

88  Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy pupils. What about the night-​long talk between the hero and his aunt and the cock’s crow? The scene would be interesting if it involved a conspiracy of villains there to assassinate the exiled Michizane. Fortunately, Dōmyō-​ji Temple had another legend that Michizane had dedicated a wooden statue of himself to the shrine. Because the use of a scapegoat was a common dramaturgical device in bunraku theatre, the plot of a statue substituted for the real Michizane was also incorporated into the play. Sugawara was possibly constructed in this way, based on ideas that were developed into plots and arranged in chronological order, although some of them seem irrelevant to the development of the play. In its course, however, we see how these plots fall rightly into place like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. In fact, the main focus of the play lies in how the well-​known and individual legends of Michizane are treated by the playwrights with as much ingenuity as consistency –​a technique that was to be further sophisticated in later historical bunraku plays. It also demonstrates the process of recognizing the destiny of the nobles, which belongs to the historic past, as correlated to that of the commoners, whose culture is present with the audience, thereby overlapping two tenses in the dramatic world. Sugawara’s originality as a dramatic piece becomes clear in comparison to one of Chikamatsu’s works about Michizane: The Chronicle of the Tenjin (Tenjinki, 1711).23 The play opens with a scene in which the Emperor receives a Chinese delegate who brings in a treasured plum tree as a gift in return for a poem that a Japanese minister had written in China. Shihei, an evil minister, claims that he is the author, while Michizane says that he has had the exact dream as recounted by the Chinese delegate (this plot relates to another one of Michizane’s legends about his fictional passage to China).24 In Chikamatsu’s work, Shihei is contrasted with Michizane in a rather comical fashion. When he approaches the plum, it withers, while Michizane makes it bloom. Shihei further fails every shot in an archery contest, whereas the good minister displays his talent. Evil Shihei, at the same time, bribes the Chinese with precious Japanese gold (which was possibly an ironical statement about the costly reception of the Korean delegate during the period, criticized by Hakuseki as we noted in Chapter 2)25 and accuses Michizane of conspiring with the Chinese Emperor to usurp the throne –​a plan that is, in fact, his own. Trapped by Shihei’s devices, Michizane is expelled to Dazaifu, a city on the western end of  Japan. The play’s connection to the commoners is represented, on the other hand, by the family of old Shiratayū in Dazaifu. Shiratayū’s elder daughter, Izayoi, who was in Kyoto, had accidentally become the lover of a warrior in Shihei’s service. She furthermore had an illegitimate child with the warrior. As she was obliged to Lady Sugawara for taking care of her child, when Michizane is threatened with assassination at sea on his way to exile, she swims to approach the boat with her child on her back (Chikamatsu often portrayed brave women like her or Komutsu from Coxinga) and is shot down and killed. Her

Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy  89 corpse, as well as that of her child, are washed ashore in Dazaifu, where it is met by Shiratayū’s family and her ex-​lover, who then switches sides to support Michizane. The good minister, however, goes on to a 37-​day fast to prove his innocence and passes away. His vengeful spirit comes back to the capital and rages over the imperial court with thunder. Shihei finally dies and Michizane becomes a heavenly deity protecting the Emperor. One of the main characteristics of Chikamatsu’s play is the mechanical devices (karakuri) supposed to have been used in scenes like the quick withering and blooming of the plum tree, archery shots, and disappearance of the dead hero into clouds. The play also emphasizes miraculous aspects of Michizane’s story such as his dream, apparition, and storming of his vengeful spirit, following the medieval tradition of his narrative. While it is interesting to see a slice of the commoner’s life in the early 18th century in the domestic problems of Shiratayū, who is troubled by a spoiled son and younger daughter who is obsessed with finding a husband, the world of the nobles is not necessarily related to that of the lower class. In contrast, Sugawara, through its use of multiple authors, is a more wholesale study of society.

The birth of the play Among the four playwrights who collaborated on Sugawara, three were connected to the Takemoto-​za theatre:  Takeda Izumo I, his son Izumo II (1691–​1756), and Miyoshi Shōraku, one of Izumo I’s disciples. Shōraku was a former Buddhist monk who returned to secular life and worked as a playwright at the theatre. He is thought to have been around 51 years old when the play was premiered (1746), while Izumo I was possibly in his 70s26 and Izumo II was 55. Shōraku seemed to remain an auxiliary author, because he never singlehandedly wrote any of the works. The fourth author, Namiki Sōsuke (or Namiki Senryū: 1695–​1751) was also originally a Buddhist monk who established himself as a bunraku playwright named Namiki Sōsuke at the Toyotake-​za, the rival of the Takemoto-​za. After having worked in kabuki for some time, in 1745 he joined the Takemoto-​za and renamed himself Senryū (hereunder we shall call him Sōsuke to avoid confusion with another playwright called Tanaka Senryū). He was 51  years old when this play was written. As for how the play was divided, a story recounts how the Takemoto-​za authors, chanters, and other theatre people held a banquet aboard the Tenma River in celebration of the success of a play they had produced. During this banquet, Shōraku supposedly proposed an idea about Michizane for their next production, together with three different parental partings:  the parting of Michizane from his daughter in Part 2 by Shōraku, the parting of Sakuramaru (the Cherry) from his father in Part 3 by Sōsuke, and the parting of Matsuōmaru (the Pine) from his child in Part  4 by Izumo II.27 Scholars have discussed the authenticity of this anecdote, but it is generally considered

90  Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy to be true.28 The remaining problem is the role of Izumo I, who was possibly the play’s producer or supervisor considering his age. Meanwhile, Uchiyama Mikiko attributes the role of leading playwright (tatesakusha:  organizer of the whole play) to Namiki Sōsuke, as she finds, beyond a mere cooperation of the three authors, a coherent structure in the play, which could not have been realized without his contribution.29 In fact, the joining of Sōsuke, who had been the leading playwright at the Toyotake-​za, into the Takemoto-​za was a decisive turning-​point that brought about three masterpieces of bunraku history plays in the years between 1746 and 1748. According to Uchiyama, Sōsuke’s plays during his Toyotake-​za years were marked with observations about the irresistible destiny of his characters through a detached point of view, reflecting his Buddhist monk origins. On the other hand, the Takeda’s’ (Izumo I and II) style generally involved father and son relationships, which was employed to emphasize human feelings with refined verses, which could only be realized by the affection between parent and child at the time, as we also see in the separation of Kuzunoha from her child. Uchiyama compares the dramatic style of the Takemoto-​za as the “dominant party” in bunraku, for they followed respected Confucian ethics, and the rivaling Toyotake-​za as the “opposition party” with anti-​ establishment tendencies. Sōsuke’s dissident voice is distinctively heard in his play The Hollow Reputation of a Reservoir in the Izumi Province (Izumi-​no kuni ukina no tameike)30 produced in 1731 at the Toyotake-​za. It was a controversial play thought to reflect the concerns of Osaka’s people confused by the reforms of the Shogun Yoshimune, which culminated in the 1720s and 1730s. As noted earlier, Yoshimune, anxious of the financial deficit, encouraged the exploitation of new rice fields nationwide in order to increase income. The hero of the play, Seijūrō, who is working as an Assistant Manager for a wealthy rice trader in Osaka, has lost a large sum of money due to the speculation of rice. As he is the son of an influential bailiff (daikan) in the Izumi Province, imposters approach him to acquire permission for digging new reservoirs to develop rice fields. The innocent Seijūrō accepts their suggestions in return for a huge repayment, however, the exploitation of the lands would ruin the lives of local farmers. The indignant people appeal directly to their lord who, with insight, punishes the villains and pardons Seijūrō. While the apparent theme of the play is the age-​old love story between Onatsu and Seijūrō, which had been repeatedly staged, the play also alludes to a contemporary political issue. As Uchiyama examines, it is highly likely that Sōsuke adopted the real affairs of farmers in the Izumi Province who directly petitioned the shogunate and skipped over their feudal lord,31 which was an obvious challenge to the rulers. This rumor spread among the people in Osaka. The Hollow Reputation further contains other outright descriptions of the day such as the vivid narration of rice trading in Osaka, including speculation. Although the play is not refined in dramatic construction or in verse, it communicates Sōsuke’s consciousness of social problems.

Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy  91 Sōsuke’s participation in the Takemoto-​za’s playwriting team brought about a new trend in production; while the radicalism of the former was mitigated by the sophistication of the latter, the Takemoto-​za authors were given close observations of society coupled with a certain philosophy. Sugawara was made at the intersection of these different players.

The dramaturgy of rippling Sugawara, like its precedent by Chikamatsu, begins with a scene of a Chinese delegate who comes to Japan to obtain a portrait of the Japanese Emperor whose high reputation has reached China. It is significant that the playwrights located the Japanese Emperor in an international relationship in the mid-​18th century –​a period in which the Japanese were thought to have been “secluded” from the world. They thought that the Emperor’s sovereignty required the perspective of the outer world to establish its legitimacy. The Emperor, however, is unable to give audience, being purported to be ill (he remains unseen throughout the drama). We don’t know the true reason of his absence, but the evil minister Shihei derogates him, saying that he may “be a cripple, blind of an eye, or hare-​lipped, or deformed.”32 Michizane then proposes an alternative plan to substitute Prince Toki-​yo, the Emperor’s younger brother, for the sovereign, which subsequently triggers the fall of the good noble. Prince Toki-​yo, who is 17  years old, is in love with Princess Kariya, Michizane’s adopted daughter. They go out on a secret date on an ox-​drawn carriage (the vehicle for nobles in the 9th century) with blinds lowered; the date is realized by the efforts of Sakuramaru (the Cherry) and his wife Yae, who are both in service to the Prince (Yae even prepares water to wash her hands with after the affair –​see the blatant realism of bunraku!). The two are surprised by Shihei’s servants who come in search of the Prince. The young couple escapes by a hair’s breadth. Michizane, on the other hand, is given a message from the Emperor to find a successor to his art of calligraphy. Between two candidates, the frivolous noble Mare-​yo and Takebe Genzo, a modest terakoya school teacher who was expelled by the master for his illicit love affair with a maid to whom he is now married, it is Genzō who is awarded the honor of receiving the secrets. At that moment, Michizane is arrested under suspicion of rebellion, for Shihei had alleged to the Emperor that Michizane was planning the abdication of his Majesty through the marriage of Prince Toki-​yo to his adopted daughter. According to Shihei, this was why Michizane had suggested the Prince in place of the Emperor. In the midst of the trouble, Genzō and his wife together with Umeōmaru (the Plum), who serves Michizane, succeed in protecting their master’s little son, Kanshūsai. Part 1 thereby lays the groundwork for the subsequent dramatic development. Part  2, as mentioned above, involves the separation of Michizane from his daughter. Sakuramaru (the Cherry) first appears escaping from Kyoto disguised as a candy vendor, while he hides Prince Toki-​yo and Princess

92  Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy Kariya in two boxes hung on a pole on his shoulder (this is physically impossible, but it is a puppet play). He cries “here here, come children, come and buy. Candy birds have I, sweets birds made of candy”33; he is a hilarious comic relief to the seriousness of the preceding act. Then, following legends, the part unfolds with Michizane making his detour on his way to Dazaifu (his destined place of exile) to visit his aunt Kakuju, a sturdy proprietor in the east of Osaka. In the play, she is the mother of Princess Kariya and feels sorry that her daughter’s love affair has led Michizane to be falsely charged. This is why she purposefully beats Kariya and her elder daughter Tatsuta, who tries to protect her, with a stick. Their dispute is intervened by the voice of the merciful Michizane heard from the room next door. There, however, the princess and her mother, who is actually thankful for the intervention, find only a wooden statue. At the same time, Tatsuta’s husband and his father, who are sheer villains, conspire to abduct and assassinate Michizane. They mercilessly kill Tatsuta, who had eavesdropped on their scheme, and throw her corpse off in a pond. They plan to make a cock crow earlier than dawn, when Michizane was scheduled to depart, using some mechanical device (their meticulous and somewhat comical ideas would have pleased the audience), and carry him off using a false escort. Part of their trick is impeded by the brave Kakuju who finds Tatsuta dead and stabs the evil husband  –​alas, the wrong escort has already started. The false escorts, however, soon return to complain that they have accompanied a wooden statue. Michizane was miraculously substituted for his likeness while he was in transport. The ruse is revealed and Michizane leaves his daughter and aunt, after having composed a poem lamenting the departure. Part  3 includes the famous acts of Carriage Pulling (Kurumabiki) and Sata Village (Sata-​mura), both of which are frequently staged in bunraku and kabuki. In Carriage Pulling, Umeōmaru (the Plum) and Sakuramaru (the Cherry) who have lost their jobs after Michizane and the Prince were sent to exile, encounter Shihei’s carriage in the streets of Kyoto. The carriage is led by Matsuōmaru (the Pine); their confrontation leads to a scuffle between the brothers, pulling and pushing the carriage back and forth. However, when Shihei appears with a golden crown on his head as if he was the Emperor, he instantaneously crushes the vehicle with a single stamp of his foot and boasts of his power. Shihei overwhelms the two young men with his strong eyes, but spares them for the sake of their brother, Matsuōmaru. Over the years, this spectacular act has become a kabuki favorite. In Sata Village, Shiratayū, the father of the triplets, celebrates his 70th birthday. He thanks Michizane who had granted him an old-​age pension when his sons were born. Shiratayū has three cherished trees that he had planted to commemorate the birth of his triplets. The wives of the triplets arrive one after another, preparing food for the party in an easy atmosphere of early spring, despite the news of their husbands’ troubles. The joviality breaks up, however, when Umeōmaru (the Plum) and Matsuōmaru (the Pine)

Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy  93 appear and resume their conflict, accidentally breaking a branch of a cherry tree. Moreover, they ask their father’s permission to leave respectively:  for the Plum, to take care of his master, and for the Pine, to be disowned as a result of his connection to evil Shihei. The Father lets the Pine go while he orders the Plum to guard Lady Sugawara, as he declares that he himself will go to the place where Michizane has been exiled. Finally Sakuramaru (the Cherry), who has been curiously absent through all of this, appears. He tells his wife Yae that he will commit seppuku for he feels deeply responsibility for the whole disaster. If he had not mediated between Princess Kariya and the Prince, Michizane would not have been accused. Shiratayū has already been told about Sakuramaru’s decision –​meaning that he had hidden his sorrow during the party –​and had allowed Sakuramaru to take his own life. Hence, as the poem says, “the cherry has withered away” and the family falls apart. Part 4 is renowned for the Terakoya Act, which is preceded by two acts preparing for the play’s completion. The first of these acts begins in Daizaifu, where Michizane has been exiled. Old Shiratayū entertains Michizane with the topic of cow breeding, which the high noble is not familiar with (the cow is, by the way, traditionally associated with Michizane in folklore connecting him to agriculture; this was another piece of the jigsaw puzzle for the playwrights to fill in). When Michizane visits a nearby temple, he remembers another of his famous poems (“When blows the eastern wind, /​ Send to me your fragrance, /​O flower of the plum”) and finds plum trees there in full bloom, like those Shiratayū had left behind in Kyoto. The peacefulness of spring is further heightened by the arrival of Umeōmaru (the Plum) who reports that Lady Sugawara and Michizane’s son are safe and sound, thus fulfilling the first strophe of the other poem: “The plum has flown to my side.” Shiratayū and Umeōmaru denounce Matsuōmaru (the Pine) who remains “heartless.” By contrast, when Michizane hears from one of Shihei’s villainous servants pursuing him (who was arrested by Umeōmaru) that the evil minister is planning not only to assassinate him, but to annihilate the whole imperial family, his rage reaches to such extremity as to ascend to heaven with roaring thunder. In Act 2 (the Act of Kitasaga)34 Shihei’s pursuers also reach Lady Sugawara’s hideout in the suburbs of Kyoto. While she is saved by a mysterious Buddhist monk, Sakuramaru’s wife Yae, who was guarding the Lady, is killed by the aggressors. The scene then moves to a terakoya school in the countryside managed by Genzō, the successor to Michizane’s art, and his wife. The two hide Michizane’s little son, Kanshūsai. Genzō is tormented by the news that Shihei’s officers will visit the school in search of Kanshūsai; in fact, he has already been ordered to kill the boy if he had him. The couple, at their wits’ end, decide to substitute a different boy to be executed in his stead. Incidentally, one of their newly entered pupils looks a lot like Michizane’s son. They are horrified by the thought and lament with the famous words, “miserable is the task of lowly servants,”35 because the situation has been brought about

94  Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy by Genzo’s service to the high noble. Two investigators arrive, one of whom is Matsuōmaru (the Pine). The couple presents the head of a sacrificed boy for inspection, anxious that their trick may fail, because Matsuōmaru –​ and only he  –​has seen Michizane’s son. Nothing happens. They recognize that they have fulfilled their order. After the officers are gone, the mother of the sacrificed boy arrives to pick him up. As the couple panics, a voice comes from outside, saying: “stands so heartless the pine, but rejoice my wife, the death of our son made sense.”36 It is Matsuōmaru. He and his wife have sacrificed their child to help the couple out of their predicament. It was also Matsuōmaru who had rescued Lady Sugawara. Despite the Pine’s tough appearance, he has been faithful to Michizane. In the final part, Shihei is confronted with fierce thunderbolts and is annihilated by the vengeful spirits of the dead Sakuramaru and his wife Yae. Meanwhile, Prince Toki-​yo is restored to his former status and Michizane’s son, Kanshūsai, is recognized as the heir to his father. It is told that the shrine of Kitano dedicated to the Tenjin will be established to assure the prosperity of the imperial court. In Sugawara, the main events –​concerned with Michizane’s life –​follow their predetermined course; even his poems affect the characters’ destinies. The triplets, insofar as they are named the Plum, the Cherry, and the Pine and their birth was celebrated by the high noble, are not free from the fate defined by Michizane’s waka. The rest of the play simply describes to the audience how the first flies to the master while the second withers, and why the third is indifferent. The triplets must accept their destinies as if it were their karma (here we find Sōsuke’s Buddhist monk philosophy) in a feudal society based on conservatism. In the hierarchy, however, a disorder on the top influences the lower streams. Like ripples, one thing after another gives rise to unnecessary events and sacrifices. If Sakuramaru were not in Prince Toki-​yo’s service, he would not have blamed himself, and would have thus not committed suicide. If Kakuju had not invited her nephew, her daughter would not have been killed in the intrigue. Finally, if Matsuōmaru could leave Shihei (the feudalistic sense of duty prohibits this), he would not have had to sacrifice his son. In the center of these happenings and troubles is Michizane; while he is the primary cause of the disturbances, he is the victim of the evil Shihei. As the Kurumabiki (Carriage Pulling) scene suggests, Shihei’s wrongdoings extend beyond the personal sphere and bear a supernatural aspect. His ambition is to challenge the cosmic order realized by the Emperor and as a result, Michizane became heavenly fury and thunder. The conflict, therefore, involves society at large.

The Emperor in bunraku plays A close study of Uchiyama indicates that the Emperor as depicted by Chikamatsu and his successors at the Takemoto-​ za theatre  –​the mainstream of bunraku –​has a distinctive feature; he embodies goodness and is

Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy  95 alien to the struggle for power and establishment of the regime. Historically speaking, this was not always the case, as Chikamatsu knew. This is reflected in Chikamatsu’s dramatic idealism in which people exert voluntary dedication to the Emperor, not only because he is venerable, but all the more because he is vulnerable. It should be noted that the figure of the Emperor in Chikamatsu’s plays is not directly connected to that of the true Emperor in imperial Japan between 1868 and 1945, when his status was authoritatively defined as “sacred and inviolable.” Chikamatsu’s idealization is a respect to the sovereign deprived of real political power, a respect that was presumably shared by those living in regions near the former capital.37 Consequently, it is not unusual that the Emperor in Sugawara remains unseen, detached from the conflict. A characteristic of the Emperor in this play is his complete inability, from which arises the problem of his “sovereignty.” For Shihei, the Emperor’s sovereignty is an emblematic quality that can be realized by bearing the necessary regalia. Hence, when the court receives the Chinese delegation, he proposes to substitute himself for the Emperor by wearing the imperial robe. Meanwhile for Michizane, the supremacy of the sovereign cannot be represented by his subjects and is exclusive to the royal family, thus his selection of Prince Toki-​yo. These opposing views on the Emperor’s status  –​pure blood lineage or simply as an “organ” of the nation  –​pose the intrinsic problem of monarchy innate to the Japanese imperial system, in which the Emperor is required to succeed the regalia of the three sacred treasures (the sword, mirror, and jewel) in order to establish his legitimacy. In other words, if he lacks these regalia, the sovereignty will, in theory, cease. This actually happened in Japanese history and induced serious controversy. On the bunraku and kabuki stages, the golden crown is another emblem or a “code” representing the sovereignty.38 Shihei wearing the crown and exercising extraordinary power in the Kurumabiki Act tells us that he has assimilated the imperial power of the regalia, eliminating an impotent Emperor. The fact that he has seemingly usurped the Emperor’s power tells us that he is an absolute Evil figure. Michizane, on the other hand, remains Good throughout the play; this is the reason why, in Part 2, we find only his statue while his voice regrets the trouble his presence has caused to Tatsuta. He is thereby exempt from committing himself to any real problem and thus maintains his innocence. Michizane’s detachment can also be found in his relationship to the Emperor. The original story about Michizane centers on his revenge on the imperial court, including the Emperor. In The Chronicle of the Tenjin by Chikamatsu, Miyamoto Mizuo also finds this tendency of exempting the sovereign from political responsibility.39 Although the Emperor is involved in Michizane’s exile by arbitrating the conflict between the good and bad ministers, the wrath of Michizane’s spirit in the final act is brought upon Shihei and his followers, as if the Emperor were uninvolved in the issue. In Sugawara, the exemption is complete; while Chikamatsu’s play places the final confrontation between Shihei and Michizane’s thunder, in Sugawara, Shihei

96  Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy is taken to hell by the ghosts of Sakuramaru and his wife, while the vengeful spirit of Michizane retreats to background. As Iwai Masami points out, the legend of Michizane in medieval literature follows the Buddhist narrative in which a human being, an incarnation of Buddha, goes through unjust hardships before being glorified in heaven. In its course, he betrays his weaknesses. In The Chronicle of the Tenjin, Michizane still assumes some human traits; his anger against Shihei is finally let loose by the fact that Izayoi, an ordinary woman, has died in his place. This plot is reasonable because it reflects the author’s empathy for commoners, but Michizane’s anger still comes from a personal sphere.40 In Sugawara, on the other hand, Michizane is depicted as a perfectly unselfish man. Even in the scene of transmitting his calligraphy secrets, what is stressed is his fairness as a great master. In the play, any narrative that could injure his infallibility is carefully avoided. He is only driven, once and for all, to great indignation when the full extent of Shihei’s plan –​usurping the throne –​becomes evident. His fury, detached from personal affairs, is concentrated on a universal problem. The scene illustrates his position in the play; he is a substitute for the powerless Emperor. To borrow the words of Inumaru Osamu, he is the Emperor’s likeness,41 or his “mirror.”42 The sacrifices that the characters make in the play –​suicide, murder, substitution, or the ultimate option of killing a boy –​make sense given that their acts are reflected on the “mirror” of Michizane. Only Michizane, in lieu of the supreme Highness, comprehends the characters’ hidden devotions, in other words, what they strive towards, what they suffer from, and what they live for. The sacrifice of Matsuōmaru (the Pine)’s son in the Terakoya Act –​the most emotional scene in the play –​should be seen from this angle; besides the commonplace knowledge that the audience can easily identify with the parents because of the high infant mortality in those days,43 the act of the Pine is not understandable without supposing the all-​encompassing eyes of Michizane hidden behind the scene. Contrary to the (mis)understanding of the play in Europe in the early 20th century (the Terakoya Act in the German translation was staged in Köln and Berlin in 1907 and 1908, the latter directed by Max Reinhardt),44 the play has nothing to do with Abraham’s sacrifice of his son or the popular bushidō (Japanese way of the warriors) spirit.45 It tells about the relationship between the Emperor and his people. If we abstract the guiding principles of the play, they are composed of relegation and substitution. Trouble at the top of society is relegated from the upper to lower classes gradually, with the responsibility eventually being assumed by a substitute, human, or inanimate. The state reaches to such a point as to be sublimated in the cry of the people: “Miserable is the task of lowly servants.” The lowly people hope in return that their insignificant acts are reflected on the “mirror” of the unselfish sovereign. Since the great success of the play, the phrase has been on the lips of every Japanese because they are required, more or less, to make sacrifices in their lives. For what purpose? For keeping society stable and unified under

Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy  97 the presence of the Emperor or, shall we say, for the well-​being of the world of the living. As a mirror, Michizane also reflects the other end of society:  the sovereign. The Emperor is exempt from political responsibility as long as he is the incarnation of goodness, such as the one embodied by Michizane. In Sugawara, however, the disorder is triggered by his inaction; is he as unselfish as he appears? This question was revived in the past when imperial Japan was qualified as having a “system of irresponsibility.”46

Notes 1 As explained in the previous chapter, the suffix “no” refers to the place of origin for nobles and warriors. 2 Yamamoto Shichihei (2007, Vol. 1, pp. 55–​57). For the source of his information, see Hayashi Harukatsu and Hayashi Nobuatsu (1958, Vol. 1, pp.  14–​23). For a detailed study of the affair in English, see Ronald P. Toby (1991, pp. 118–​124). However, Toby seems to neglect the overly formalistic, hence “comical,” reaction of the shogunal bureaucrats. 3 Tsuji (1991, p. 210). 4 The fact is that when Commodore Perry demanded the “opening” of Japan in 1853, President Fillmore’s letter was addressed to the Tycoon. However, Japanese radical intellectuals pointed out that the shogun –​or the shogunal government –​ was not authorized to resolve such a serious diplomatic issue. They claimed that it should be consulted with the Emperor; hence began the hot controversy about the sovereignty of the state, which lead to the negation of the shogun. 5 Fujita Satoru (2018. p. 27). 6 Ōishi Shinzaburō (1977, p. 152). 7 Ibid., p. 17. 8 Fujita (1991, p. 117). 9 Kyoto Bunka Hakubutsukan (The Museum of Kyoto) (2019, p. 1). 10 Hayashiya Tatsusaburō (1983, p. 226). 11 Strictly speaking, “plum” denotes the Japanese apricot (ume). 12 Jones (1985, p. 6). 13 Naganuma Kenkai (1983, p. 192). 14 Ibid. 15 Jones (1985, p. 7). 16 The Dōmyō-​ji Temple is equal to the Tenmangū Shrine because of the syncretism of Buddhism with Shintoism. 17 Takashima Kōji (2016, p. 145). 18 For the relationship between the legend of Michizane and the worship of Shiratayū, see Nakamura Yukihiko (1983) and Ōno Michiko (1981). 19 Raiden is based on an earlier Noh play about Michizane called Kanshojō. See Takashima (2016, p. 181). 20 Kawatake Toshio (1970, p. 30). For an English account of the historical development of bunraku multiauthorship, see Eduard Klopfenstein (1979). 21 Ihara Toshirō (1957, Vol. 2, p. 523). 22 R. P. Dore indicates that “there were 2500 schools with 75,000 pupils in Osaka in 1752” (1965, p. 253).

98  Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35

36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46

CZ 8. Naganuma (1983, p. 203). Uchiyama (1989, p. 77). Kubori (2009, p. 3). Tamura Nariyoshi (1976, pp. 285–​286). Kawatake (1970, p. 28). Uchiyama (1989, p. 302). The English title is ours. Namiki Sōsuke and Yasuda Abun (2011). Uchiyama (1989, p. 248). Jones (1985, p. 38). Takeda Izumo I et al. (1971, p. 491). Jones (1985, p. 87). Takeda Izumo I et al. (1971, p. 525). Kitasaga is the name of a place in the suburbs of Kyoto. The passage is our translation. Jones translated the phrase as follows: “None suffer such hurt and sadness as those lowly ones who serve noble masters at the court.” Jones (1985, p. 232). However, the Japanese original text is quite simple, hence its popularity: “Semajiki mono wa miyazukae.” Takeda Izumo I et al. (1971, p. 611). The translation is ours, Takeda Izumo I et al. (1971, p. 618). Also see Jones (1985, p. 245). Uchiyama (1991, p. 281). Iwai Masami (1990, p. 139). Miyamoto Mizuo (1969, p. 23). Iwai (1990, p. 131). Inumaru Osamu (2012, p. 67). “Mirror” in Japanese implies truthfulness or a model. Matsui Kesako (2016, p. 49). Sang-​kyong (1993, p. 140). Matsui (2016, p. 42). Maruyama Masao (1969, p. 128).

Bibliography Dore, R. P. 2011. Education in Tokugawa Japan. London & New  York:  Routledge. (First published in 1965.) Fujita Satoru. 2018. Edojidai no Ten-​nō [The Emperor in the Edo Period]. Tokyo: Kōdansha. Hayashi Harukatsu and Hayashi Nobuatsu, eds. 1958. Kai Hentai [The Transformation of the Chinese World Order]. Annotated by Ura Yasukazu. Tokyo: Tōhō shoten. Hayashiya Tatsusaburō. 1983. “Tenjin shinkō no henreki [The History of the Faith in the Tenjin].” In Tenjin Shinkō: 225–​239, edited by Murakami Shūichi. Tokyo: Yūzankaku shuppan. Ihara Toshirō. 1957. Kabuki nenpyō [Chronology of Kabuki], Vol. 2. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. Inumaru Osamu. 2012. Sugawaradenju tenaraikagami seidoku:  kabuki to ten-​nō [A Close Study on Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy: Kabuki and the Emperor]. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. Iwai Masami. 1990. “Shihei no keishō wo megutte [A Study of the Figure of Shihei].” Engekigaku [Theatre Study] 31: 130–​142. Jones, Stanleigh H. Jr., trans. & annot. 1985. Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy. New York: Columbia University Press.

Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy  99 Kawatake Toshio. 1970. “Sugawara no sakusha:  gassaku to gassakushatachi [The Authors of Sugawara:  Multi-​Authorship and the Playwrights].” Kikan Kabuki [Kabuki Quarterly], 10: 28–​36. Klopfenstein, Eduard. 1979. “Gassaku − co-​authorship in classical Jōruri of the 18th century.” In European Studies on Japan: 283–​289, edited by Ian Nish and Charles J. Dunn. Tenterden, Kent: Paul Norbury. Kubori Hiroaki. 2009. “Jōrurishi no naka no Sugawaradenju tenaraikagami [Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy in the History of Bunraku].” In Kamigata bunka kōza: Sugawaradenju tenaraikagami [Lecture on Osaka Culture: Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy]: 1–​16. Osaka: Izumishoin. Kyoto Bunka Hakubutsukan [The Museum of Kyoto], ed. 2019. Kitanotenmangū shinkō to meihō:  Tenjinsan no genryū [Faith and Treasures Related to Kitano Tenmangu Shrine. The Origins of the Tenjin]. Exhibition Program. Kyoto: Kitano Tenmangu Shrine. Li (Lee), Sang-​kyong. 1993. Tōzai engeki no deai:  nō, kabuki no seiyō engeki eno eikyou [Encounter of the Theatres of East and West: Influences of Noh and Kabuki on Western Theatre]. Translated by Tanaka Tokuichi and supervised by Nishi Kazuyoshi. Tokyo: Shin-​dokushosha. Maruyama Masao. 1969. “Thought and Behaviour Patterns of Japan’s Wartime Leaders.” Translated by Ivan Morris. In Thought and Behaviour in Modern Japanese Politics:  84–​134. London:  Oxford University Press. (First published in 1949.) Matsui Kesako. 2016. Kabuki. A  Mirror of Japan:  Ten Plays That Offer a Glimpse Into Evolving Sensibilities. Translated by David Crandall. Tokyo: Japan Publishing Industry Foundation for Culture (JPIC). Miyamoto Mizuo. 1969. “Tenjinki wo megutte [A Study of The Tenjin-​ki].” In Chikamatsu ronshū [Collection of Chikamatsu Studies], Vol. 5:  17–​ 26. Tokyo: Chikamatsu no kai [Chikamatsu Society]. Naganuma Kenkai. 1983. “Tenma Tenjin no shinkō no hensen [The Evolution of the Faith in Tenma Tenjin].” In Tenjin Shinkō: 175–​202, edited by Murakami Shūichi. Tokyo: Yūzankaku shuppan. Nakamura Yukihiko. 1983. “Shiradayūkō [A Study of the Shiradayū].” In Nakamura Yukihiko chojutsushū [Writings of Nakamura Yukihiko], Vol. 10:  377–​ 397. Tokyo: Chūōkōronsha. Namiki Sōsuke and Yasuda Abun. 2011. Izumi-no kuni ukina no tameike [The Hollow Reputation of a Reservoir in the Izumi Province]. Gidayū jōruri mihonkoku sakuhin shūsei [Collection of Unpublished Works of Bunraku Texts], Vol. 21, supervised by Torigoe Bunzō and edited by Gidayūshōhon kankōkai. Tokyo:  Tamagawa University Press. Ōishi Shinzaburō. 1977. Edo jidai [The Edo Period]. Tokyo: Chūōkōronsha. Ōno Michiko. 1981. “Sugawaradenju tenaraikagami no tenkyo ni tuite [Literary Sources for Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy].” In Kokugo kokubun gakkaishi [Bulletin of Japanese Language and Literature], Vol. 24: 69–​79. Tokyo: Gakushūin University. Takashima Kōji. 2016. Kisōtengai dakara shijitsu:  tenjin denshō wo yomitoku. [Unexpected Facts on Michizane: A Reading of the Tenjin Legend]. Osaka: Osaka University Press. Takeda Izumo I, Takeda Izumo II, Namiki Senryū, and Miyoshi Shōraku. 1971. “Sugawaradenju tenaraikagami [Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy].”

100  Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy Annotated by Tadashi Yokoyama. In Nihon koten bungaku zenshū [Collection of Japanese Classic Literature], Vol. 45. Tokyo: Shōgakukan. Tamura Nariyoshi, ed. 1976. Kabukinendaki zokuzoku hen [Third Installment of the Chronicles of Kabuki]. Tokyo: Ōtori shuppan. Toby, Ronald P. 1991. State and Diplomacy in Early Modern Japan. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Tsuji Tatsuya. 1991. “Politics in the Eighteenth Century.” In The Cambridge History of Japan, Vol. 4: 425–​477, translated by Harold Bolitho. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Uchiyama Mikiko. 1989. Jōrurishi no Jūhasseiki [The 18th Century in the History of Bunraku]. Tokyo: Bensei shuppan. —​—​—​. 1991. “Engekishi no nakano Ten-​nō [The Emperor in the History of the Theatre].” In Nihon no kinsei:  Ten-nō to Shogun [The Japanese Early Modern Period:  The Emperor and the Shogun], Vol. 2:  251–​306, edited by Tatsuya Tsuji. Tokyo: Chūōkōronsha. Yamamoto Shichihei. 2007. Arahitogami no sōsakusha-​tachi [Creators of the Emperor as a Living God]. 2 vols. Tokyo: Chikuma shobō. (First published in 1983.)

5  Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees Re-​appropriating history

In Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees, two different groups of characters are linked through the dramaturgy of “as it turned out” –​things may not always be as they seem at the outset. The play merges the nobility of failure, as symbolized by Yoshitsune, with the commoner’s desire to participate in history. For the people at the time, two war chronicles (The Tale of the Heike and The Taiheiki) served as an interpretation grid upon which to understand history. Knowledge of how history was recognized in the 18th century sheds a different light on the tragic fate of our hero, a young general killed by his brother in the 12th century.

Historicizing early modern Japan Understanding human activities in a continuous framework of time and recording them as written text began in Japan, like other histories in the world, with a political concern –​to record the genealogy of the Emperor and imperial family with their divine origin, myth, legends, and oral traditions. This history was compiled as the Kojiki (An Account of Ancient Matters) in 712. In 720, The Nihon shoki (The Chronicles of Japan) appeared. Although it covers roughly the same period as the former, it was more conscious of its international context as it was written in Chinese, or the lingua franca in East Asia at the time. The compilation of the two books was related to the new world order. The Tang dynasty’s establishment in China in the 7th century and the subsequent withdrawal of Japanese power from the Korean Peninsula necessitated the Yamato (Japanese) government to consolidate the country’s unification under the name of Japan. The Nihon shoki was followed by five histories with the same interest of recording the successive Emperors’ reigns up to the 10th century. As a side note, Sugawara no Michizane and Fujiwara no Tokihira (Shihei) were both engaged in the compilation of the last of these official histories. The tradition perished as the Emperor became virtually ousted from the position of ruler, and various unofficial histories and chronicles were composed after the 11th century.1 When the samurai attained the position of ruler in the 12th century, they produced their own history, Azuma kagami (Mirror of the East), which tells

102  Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees how the warriors established the Kamakura shogunate in the eastern region of the country. When the shogunal government was challenged by the imperial power in the 14th century and the country split into two parties, an ideologically important history book in defense of the Emperor’s orthodoxy, albeit unofficial, was written (Jin’nō shōtōki [Chronicles of Gods and Sovereigns]). Then between the 15th and 16th centuries, no book or record dealing with Japanese history as a whole appeared as the country entered into an age of continuous disorder (Age of Warring States). It was only after social stability was realized under the Tokugawa regime that a historical overview of the country was envisioned anew. In 1644, the third shogun Iemitsu (1604–​1651) ordered Hayashi Razan (1583–​1657), an influential Confucian scholar and government advisor, to compile a history of the country. The work was completed in 1670 by Razan’s son Gahō (1618–​ 1680) as a 310 volume Comprehensive History of Japan (Honchō Tsugan) that covers the (mythical) origin of the country and its history up until 1611, the last year of Emperor Go-​Yōzei’s reign, which was included in the early years of the Edo period. This was the first official history of Japan since Michizane’s times. The project gave the Japanese a chance to see their own history in continuity while its ultimate purpose was to justify the Tokugawa regime through Confucianist ethics. Gahō also edited The Table of the Rulers of Japan (Nihon ōdai ichiran) in 1652, listing the Emperors from the first to the 106th (Emperor Ōgimachi, who ruled in the late 16th century) with brief comments about their reigns. While Honchō Tsugan (Comprehensive History) was composed in classical Chinese (as an official history), The Table was written in Japanese. Consequently, the latter was widely accepted as a concise version of Japanese history. In the meantime, Tokugawa Mitsukuni (1628–​1701), lord of the Mito domain who belonged to one of the three major Tokugawa branches, considered the compilation of another history. This was partially realized as the Great History of Japan (Dai Nihonshi) in 1715. The work was suspended thereafter and was finally completed in 1906  –​250  years from when it was started. Mitsukuni was ambitious about publishing a more authoritative history of Japan by making a thorough investigation of available documents. Another feature of his compilation was the establishment of the Emperor’s authentic lineage. As a matter of fact, there were some troublesome points about the imperial genealogy, among which the most outstanding was the case in the 14th century when, after the collapse of the Kamakura shogunate in 1333, the imperial court was divided in two in a struggle to recover power from the warriors. Two Emperors with different era names therefore coexisted in the Northern and the Southern Courts, before the former asserted its orthodoxy in 1392 with the support of the Ashikaga shogunate. The historians that Mitsukuni recruited for this compilation were later considered as the founders of the Mito School, characterized by chauvinistic imperial worship. These historians, however, viewed the Southern Court as having orthodoxy due to the fact that the imperial regalia were in the possession of the Southern

Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees  103 Emperor during this reign. While the Mito school’s interpretation could potentially cause a major dispute –​as the contemporary Emperor was (and “is”) a descendent of the Northern Court –​the problem remained latent for the time being. Besides Hayashi and Mitsukuni, Arai Hakuseki also composed a political history of Japan titled Tokushi Yoron (A Reading of History) in 1712, based on his understanding of the regime changes through the ages under the concept of “the Forces of Times.”2 As such instances show, the Edo period was indeed marked by a concern over history. A renaissance in scholarship came with the first Shogun Ieyasu (it was he who invited Hayashi Razan as an academic advisor), who evaluated the power of the pen as important as that of the sword in keeping society stable. In the century following Ieyasu, warriors were required to be more intellectual than martial (if we borrow the expression of Ikegami Eiko, they were “tamed” by degrees).3 However, the inclination for history in this period was different from that of the preceding ages as it spread beyond the limited number of upper class people to the commoners, such as important farmers and rich merchants. As mentioned in the introduction, this situation was realized by the wide diffusion of printed books both in towns and rural areas. Yokota Fuyuhiko counts 276 books on Japanese history out of 470 volumes in the inheritance list of an influential farmer in the Kai Province in 1729. These books mainly consisted of popular war chronicles (gunkimono) treating different ages between the 8th and 17th centuries. The important point is that these chronicles covered Japanese history as a whole, with reference to The Table of the Rulers of Japan, which circulated as a convenient history book among both warriors and commoners.4 According to Uchiyama, The Table became a desk-​side book for bunraku authors.5 Yokota also notes that Keichū (1640–​ 1701), a Buddhist priest and scholar who made a remarkable breakthrough in interpreting The Man’yōshū (the oldest collection of Japanese poetry in the 8th century), referred to various historical books housed by big bailiffs in the Kawachi Province.6 Chikamatsu as well as other bunraku playwrights possibly gained access to such historical books in a similar fashion, as books were relatively pricey at the time. We could say the social media revolution, such as the one brought about by Gutenberg, was also under way in 17th century Japan. It was the age when handwritten copies conceded their function of knowledge transfer to mass publication in all fields,7 made possible by the significant development of literacy through terakoya school education as we saw in the previous chapter. The interest in history was not limited, however, to privileged farmers and merchants. In Love Suicides on the Eve of the Kōshin Festival (1722), Chikamatsu depicts the daughter of a big farmer who reads The Tale of the Heike.8 Furthermore, “new” intellectuals among the commoners held oral book readings for the illiterate, and one of their favourite subjects was popular war chronicles.9 Wakao Masaki mentions how Nishikawa Joken (1648–​1724), an astronomer and enlightened moralist, recommended a village headman to

104  Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees read these chronicles to learn wisdom and for those who could not read, to let someone read these stories to them. As Joken’s writings were highly popular in those days, Wakao considers that reading aloud was a fashionable custom among people at the time.10

The Tale of the Heike and The Taiheiki: two archetypes of history Gunkimono (war chronicles) is an ambiguous category found between history and literature. As long as they are based on war facts, they can assume the role of history. However, because they contain as much fiction as hard fact, they can also be categorized as a literary genre of gunki bungaku (war tales). In any case, they refer to a specific form of narrative in which history is undifferentiated from story. The first war chronicle treats the rebellion of Taira no Masakado in the 10th century, prior to the warrior class’ independence in the eastern region in the 12th century. The event was narrated as a war chronicle called Shōmonki (Chronicle of Masakado), and its year of compilation is unknown (possibly the 11th century). After Shōmonki, many chronicles narrating war –​local as well as nationwide –​were created up to the 17th century. Generally speaking, the older the chronicles, the more literary their form and content, and vice versa. A  number of war chronicles composed in the 16th and 17th centuries were prosaic historical records and are not generally considered literary works. However, on the contrary, neither The Tale of the Heike in the 13th century nor The Taiheiki (A Chronicle of Great Peace) in the 14th century are regarded today as historical documents.11 We should, however, note that for commoners in the 17th century, there was no clear distinction between fiction and historical fact. The boundary between the two was necessarily blurred in the process of popularizing history. This was what happened with The Taiheiki. In the early 17th century, a reputable annotation of the Taiheiki (called The Taiheiki Rijinshō) appeared on the pretext that reading this analysis would allow select members of the ruling class samurai to better understand history. Now, it must be stressed that The Taiheiki was believed to be “true” history in those days in terms of the military science and political philosophy included therein. Although The Taiheiki Rijinshō was purported to be a confidential document, it became a common source for Taiheiki-​yomi (histrionic narrators of The Taiheiki) who, pretending to make comments on the text, freely interpreted or even invented narrative details to make their story interesting before the audience.12 The popularity of The Taiheiki narrations produced yet another kind of entertainer who read aloud not only The Taiheiki, but also other war chronicles as well. One of The Taiheiki’s focuses is the indomitable battles fought by the legendary Kusunoki Masashige, a resourceful warrior who remained loyal to the Southern Court Emperor Go-​Daigo (1288–​1339). His tactics were highly appraised in the annotated book, which then gave birth to the military science technique called the Kusunoki style. As this art, like other styles of military science competing during the period, was mainly composed

Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees  105 from fanciful imagination in peaceful times, it mainly ended up in the form of oral entertainment with exaggeration and spiced anecdotes. Gunki-​yomi (narrators of war chronicles) extended the scope of their narratives to other war histories. They were also called kōshaku-​shi and, as we have noted, they were the lowest-​ranking entertainers. If The Taiheiki constituted a common history of the people, the other reference for understanding the past was The Tale of the Heike. The two chronicles resemble each other in some aspects. In the first place, both of them took place during pivotal periods in history, when the imperial court lost their ground in the face of the flourishing warrior class. In the meantime, warriors were divided into two parties: the party allied with the court and that seeking independence from it. And history has shown that it is always those who get too close to the court (Emperor) that fail. In The Tale of the Heike, major members of the Heike house (in the heyday of its time) are rapidly promoted to high noble status in return for their support in a power struggle in the court. The retired and cloistered Emperor Go-​Shirakawa (1127–​1192) saw the Heike’s prosperity as another political obstacle as they took the position formerly occupied by the Fujiwaras.13 (The Emperor’s political freedom was restricted in 11th century, due to a strategic matrimony that bound him to the Fujiwara clan. The Emperor could thus exert more political freedom in retirement than during his reign.) Go-​ Shirakawa therefore instigated Minamoto no Yoritomo, head of the Genji (the Heike’s rival house) who was exiled in the eastern region of the country, to rebel against the ruling warriors. The upstart princes of the Heike were so spoiled by the luxurious life of aristocracy that they experienced defeat after defeat and were finally eradicated along with the infant Emperor Antoku (1180–​1185), born from a daughter of the Heike family. Yoritomo’s younger brother Yoshitsune played the leading role in this victory. Different from the Heike, and contrary to the expectations of the ex-​Emperor, Yoritomo was indifferent to Go-​Shirakawa and established the warrior’s first independent government –​the Kamakura shogunate. However, The Tale of the Heike is not interested in this political upheaval. Instead, it narrates with compassion the rise and fall of the Heike under the Buddhist philosophy of “nothing on earth is permanent.” The Taiheiki is more complex than the chronicle of the Heike as it treats the civil war that lasted for more than 50 years in the 14th century. It covers the age when the Kamakura shogunate was overthrown by the rebellion of warriors who responded to the call of Emperor Go-​Daigo. Then, after the imperial court had been restored to power for a short period, the court as well as the warriors split into two sides, the Northern and the Southern Courts, causing constant conflict nationwide. In the narrative, both the major players of the Southern and Northern Courts pass away:  including Go-​Daigo and the faithful Kusunoki Masashige from the Southern Court and Ashikaga Takauji, founder of the Ashikaga shogunate, and Ashikaga Yoshiakira, the second shogun of the regime, from the Northern Court. As The Taiheiki is

106  Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees much longer than The Tale of the Heike, it is not as consistently composed as an epic as compared to the latter. The most dramatically depicted elements in the chronicle involve the ephemeral reign of Emperor Go-​Daigo, exemplified by the tragic fate of Masashige who sacrificed his life for loyalty. The narrative is also marked with a pro-​Southern Court attitude, which, with the popularity of Masashige, aroused sympathy for the Southern Court in the early modern period. As Konishi Jin’ichi indicates,14 one of the main characteristics of these two chronicles in literary history is that they were addressed to readers outside the closed aristocratic community. Little is known about the books’ authors, but they were certainly in the margins of aristocracy and observed the rising warrior class with intense curiosity. In our view, these warriors resembled American pioneers more than the fictional samurai idealized in the 19th century (indeed, the eastern region of Japan was a frontier in the medieval age) because they did not hesitate to rely on power to protect (and enlarge) their territories. Warriors were first and foremost owners of farmland. The authors were also impressed by the warriors’ strong attachment to fame. Why were they so mad about distinguishing themselves in war even though, according to Buddhist teachings, all of this was simple vanity and they must have known it? Thence appears the drama. Another common aspect of these two chronicles is their affinity for the performing arts. As we have already seen, The Taiheiki was not only a narrated art but also offered fertile grounds for bunraku and kabuki pieces as well as other forms of oral entertainment to grow. The Tale of the Heike, on the other hand, was evidently conceived to be narrated by wandering blind monks in accompaniment to the music of the biwa (Japanese lute). The Tale also provided the subject matter of a number of Noh plays. The second program of a repertoire called Shura mono (warrior plays) would have been inconceivable without the stories of the Heike. Takemoto Mikio counts 86 plays related to The Tale.15 These plays are typically composed in such a fashion that a dead warrior of the Heike appears as a ghost before a Buddhist monk and enacts (with solemn dance and music) a defeated battle scene for salvation, much like in Sanemori written by Zeami. The Tale also provided material for ballad dances called Kōwaka-​mai favoured in the 16th and 17th centuries.16 In addition to performing arts, the two chronicles worked as matrices that engendered new historical narratives. At a popular level, history was retold in reverse sequels to The Taiheiki, for example, The Early Taiheki (Zen Taiheiki) treating events of the 10th and 11th centuries and The Pre-​Early Taiheiki (Zen Zen Taiheiki) covering the 8th and 9th centuries. Likewise, the age posterior to it was edited as The Later Taiheiki (GoTaiheiki). The war chronicles found by Yokota in the abovementioned inheritance list included The Taiheiki as well as The Pre-​Early Taiheiki.17 As for The Tale of the Heike, it also produced another popular war chronicle about Yoshitune called The Gikeiki (The Chronicle of Yoshitsune: possibly compiled in the 14th century), which tells of the hero’s life not mentioned in The Tale.18

Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees  107 Kanda Chisato makes an interesting point that The Tale of the Heike and The Taiheiki were edited and printed between the late 16th and the early 17th centuries by Jesuit missionaries who visited Japan, indicating that the Jesuits also considered them as the most important sources for understanding Japanese history.19 Indeed, the two books constituted a framework for the Japanese to view their own history. And although they may have been a mix of facts and legends, they contained the basic historical perspective shared by the people: the world revolves around the struggle of two parties of warriors before the presence of the Emperor. The most decisive evidence of this is that it was repeated again in the 17th century. As noted earlier, the ruler prior to the Tokugawas, the house of Toyotomi, adopted the strategy of securing top aristocrat status to legitimize their power, but was destroyed in 1615 by Tokugawa Ieyasu who, like Yoritomo, inaugurated a new government in the east. Warrior parties too deeply involved with the court were thus doomed to perish. This theme was not fiction, it was reality.

A play of double flight Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees (Yoshitsune senbon zakura, 1747)20 is a play about “what ifs.” What if the Heike generals had not been annihilated? What if Yoshitsune had been able to reconcile with his elder brother, Yoritomo? And, what if little Emperor Antoku had been alive? The second question requires explanation. In history, Yoshitsune, who achieved the great feat of eradicating the Heike, was used as a pawn by the cunning ex-​Emperor Go-​Shirakawa to diminish the power of his brother Yoritomo. For this purpose, the sovereign gave Yoshitsune a courtly rank without the consent of the head of the Genji. The brothers became estranged, and Go-​Shirakawa finally urged Yoshitsune to defeat his brother in Kamakura. However, Yoritomo hunted down his brother, and Yoshitsune was forced to kill himself, at the age of 31, in the northern part of the country. The Gikeiki (The Chronicle of Yoshitsune) tells his story with a hefty dose of romantic imagination, as it is supposed to have been composed two centuries after the event. In The Gikeiki, the hero, who is fictionalized as a noble prince, and his distinguished escorts escape from their pursuers before their doom. The play’s central interest lies in this turn when Yoshitsune, who had until then been the pursuer, becomes the pursued. In addition, as the play assumes that the Heike generals (eradicated by Yoshitsune) are still living, the fugitive must pursue other fugitives. If Sugawara depicts the triplets in three parts, Yoshitsune features the fates of three Heike generals. Different from Sugawara, however, nothing is left to indicate the playwrights’ assignments. The play lists Takeda Izumo II, Namiki Sōsuke, and Miyoshi Shōraku as its authors (Takeda Izumo I  died several months prior to the play’s premier). Researchers generally admit that Namiki Sōsuke assumed the central role in conceiving the play.21 We believe that it is better not to be concerned with the problem of who wrote the particular sections because for one thing, besides

108  Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees the specified authors, there were also apprentice playwrights working on minor parts and furthermore, playwrights freely borrowed ideas and phrases from preceding works. Consequently, the play should be seen as a product of multiauthorship with unequal qualities found in some parts, while the overall concept fell under Sōsuke’s control. As for the structure of the play, while it depicts the pursuer and the pursued, it is not constructed in the same way as an American thriller film involving fugitives. It was produced in a completely different concept; in the first place, we cannot consider Yoshitsune as a hero in the Western sense. For instance, Stanleigh H. Jones questions why he is so passive in the play, contrary to his common image as a brave warrior in history.22 The question could be answered by a reference to Sugawara. The play intends to depict not so much Michizane’s passion as the tragedy of his subordinates who are associated to the high noble whether they want to be or not. Michizane stands as an unselfish and therefore untouchable noble and dominates the whole dramatic world even when he does not appear on stage. Similarly, Yoshitsune solves nothing by himself. He does not take concrete action to prove his innocence to Yoritomo, nor does he make a plan to search for the Heike generals. He depends on surrounding circumstances but still exerts influence over the characters. Metaphorically speaking, he is the catalyst by which the fates of the people around him are affected. However, the play is different from Sugawara because of its lack of a great evil presence like Shihei. The Heike generals look less like antagonists to Yoshitsune than as figures similar to him, since they are all fugitives. There certainly is an evil figure, but as Hashimoto Osamu remarks,23 he is a petty villain who is not assigned a central role in the play. The retired Emperor Go-​Shirakawa, whom the historical Yoritomo addressed as the most cunning politician in Japan, remains unseen in the play, following the bunraku author’s canon of exempting the sovereign from political and moral responsibility. Yoritomo, whose maneuvers were in no way inferior to those of the ex-​Emperor in reality, does not appear either. And his relationship with Yoshitsune is not broken at the end. We therefore have a strange piece before us. If the story has no hero and no true antagonists, how does it develop? Below, we shall see its composition. Part  1 is composed of three acts. First, Yoshitsune is found in Go-​ Shirakawa’s palace. He is afforded a treasured hand drum (tsuzumi) by the ex-​ Emperor for his military exploits. The reward has a double meaning; accepting and “beating” the drum (although Yoshitsune has no option of refusing it, as it is an imperial gift) means that he consents to His Majesty’s desire to “beat” (triumph over) his brother Yoritomo. However, we cannot delve into his true intentions as this message is interpreted and transmitted to Yoshitsune by Tomokata, an evil high noble in service of Go-​Shirakawa. The scene then changes to a hermitage in a suburb of Kyoto where Lady Wakaba, the wife of the Heike heir Koremori, hides with their little son Rokudai. Wakaba is told that her husband was not killed in the battle and has taken refuge in Mount

Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees  109 Kōya, in the deep mountains of the Ki’i region. Mother and son escape pursuers sent by Tomokata, accompanied by their loyal servant Kokingo. In the final act of Part  1, Yoshitsune receives Yoritomo’s envoy in his Horikawa residence in Kyoto. The messenger heralds a note from Yoritomo rebuking his younger brother for sending false heads of the dead Heike generals to Kamakura. Yoshitsune refutes the charge, explaining that it was an expedient for recovering peace in the war-​wearied land for the time being and he is ready to go and search for the generals. The messenger then mentions another suspicion about Yoshitsune  –​he took a Heike woman as his wife. Yoshitsune objects that she is in fact the daughter of the messenger himself, Kawagoe, and that she had only been adopted into the Heike house. Kawagoe then makes the excuse that it is currently impossible to clarify this situation under the full-​blown anti-​Heike atmosphere in the Kamakura shogunate. Moreover, Kawagoe knows that Yoritomo has already sent troops to kill Yoshitsune and that they will soon arrive. His true intention is not to blame the Genji prince, but to avoid conflict between the brothers by removing the source of Yoritomo’s suspicions, in other words, killing his own daughter. Before Kawagoe executes his plan, Yoshitsune’s wife snatches the sword from her father and kills herself to exonerate him from infanticide. Upon this sacrifice, Yoshitsune orders his servants not to fight against Yoritomo’s men. However, Benkei, Yoshitsune’s daredevil escort, makes a hasty battle and kills one of the men. Yoshitsune and his entourage, as well as his beloved concubine Shizuka, are obliged to flee from the Kamakura forces. In Part  2, Yoshitsune’s band leaves Shizuka at the shrine of Fushimi  –​ known for its deification of the fox –​in a southern suburb of Kyoto, for she cannot catch up with them. They leave the hand drum from the ex-​Emperor with Shizuka, as the prince has no intention of following the ex-​Emperor’s implicit orders. At the very moment she is about to be arrested by her pursuers, Tadanobu, another one of Yoshitsune’s brave servants who has been absent until now to take care of his mother, suddenly appears to help Shizuka. The pleased lord orders him to protect her in Kyoto, while he and his followers depart for the west, in search of men who will support them. The audience is then invited to see the interior of a shipping agency at the port of Daimotsu, near Osaka, facing the Inland Sea. An arrogant samurai is demanding the master and his wife to prepare ships at once despite the rough weather. The samurai and his band have been sent from Kamakura in search of the Genji general. After Ginpei, the master, manages to decline the group’s demand, another group of warriors staying in the next room reveal themselves; they are Yoshitsune and his servants. Ginpei urges them to start immediately. When they have gone aboard, he suddenly declares he is the Heike general Tomomori, the little child sleeping in the room is in fact the Emperor Antoku, and his wife is a wet nurse. The whole situation, including the arrival of the Kamakura samurai, was a scheme to ambush Yoshitsune. A sea battle then ensues between the Heike and the Genji, just as it is reported to have happened in Yoshitsune’s account to the ex-​Emperor. Once again, it is

110  Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees the Heike who is defeated. The desperate Tomomori kills himself by jumping into the water, following the story told in The Tale of the Heike. The Emperor Antoku, on the other hand, chooses to be protected by Yoshitsune, a plot that deviates from official history. Part 3 is entirely located in a small village at the foot of Mount Yoshino, in the south of the Yamato Province, far south of Osaka and Kyoto. Mount Yoshino is renowned for its cherry trees, hence the title of the play. However, as the play is set in the wintertime, they are not in bloom. In the first act, we see Lady Wakaba and her child together with their servant Kokingo (all from Part 1) arrive at a tea stall. A young man happens to also be there with them. He accuses them of the false charge that they mistook their belongings for his and stole his money. The mistress and the servant have to give him a large sum of money for fear of their identity being revealed. The young man chuckles to himself for his successful trick. It is Gonta, a cheap hoodlum and the spoiled son of the rich villager Yazaemon. Lady Wakaba and her company, however, are soon discovered by Tomokata’s pursuers. Kokingo is killed while Wakaba and her son escape the assault. Kokingo’s corpse is left on the road. The scene turns to a sushi shop where Yazaemon’s wife and daughter work. The daughter is light-​hearted about the idea of being married to the handsome servant Yasuke. Yasuke, however, is in fact Koremori, the Heike heir who had been protected by Yazaemon. As Koremori rejoices over seeing Lady Wakaba and their son, Yazaemon realizes that Yoritomo’s agents have arrived to arrest the fugitive. In a tight corner, Yazaemon decides to trick the agent by substituting the dead Kokingo’s head for Koremori’s. But at the very last moment of the inspection, his son Gonta, dazzled by the prize offered by the Kamakura officers, presents the “true” head of the Heike heir. After the agent is gone, the furious Yazaemon stabs his son. But Gonta’s intentions were elsewhere. In order to dodge the agent’s suspicions against Yazaemon, he had acted as a false betrayer by putting Kokingo’s head in the sushi tub he presented to the agent and letting his wife and son be arrested as though they were Lady Wakaba and the child. It is too late for the father to repent his deed before his son dies. Moreover, the agent had left a mysterious note saying that Koremori’s execution was to be spared in consideration of a benevolent act that Koremori’s father (Shigemori) had carried out for Yoritomo in the past. Alas, father and son of the sushi shop had acted for nothing. Koremori, having seen through all these events, decides to become a Buddhist priest.24 In Part  4, Shizuka, Yoshitsune’s concubine, makes a lyrical journey to Mount Yoshino together with Tadanobu in search of Yoshitsune. There, in a Buddhist temple, soldier monks are discussing whether to destroy the hidden Yoshitsune and his escorts. Among the monks’ leaders are Kawatsura, who insists on attacking, and Kakuhan and the others, who wish to protect the Genji prince. The controversy is a ruse. After Kawatsura departs, Kakuhan reveals to his comrades that he was merely trying to find out whether the former was secretly allied with the Genji general and persuades them to annihilate

Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees  111 Yoshitsune. Kakuhan, who is in fact the brave Heike general Noritsune in disguise, had only pretended to oppose Kawatsura to probe his true intentions. In the meantime at Kawatsura’s house, Yoshitsune receives his servant Tadanobu, who apologizes to the lord for his long absence, during which we believe he has been guarding Shizuka. Tadanobu leaves and Yoshitsune is left doubting his loyalty. Meanwhile, Yoshitsune is told that his lover has arrived with Tadanobu (again), but this time, Tadanobu does not appear. Shizuka tells Yoshitsune that Tadanobu had shown a strong attachment to the hand drum during their journey. Intrigued, Yoshitsune orders Shizuka to beat the drum, and there appears another Tadanobu who confesses he is really a fox disguised as a human being. Because the drum is made of his parents’ skin –​ they, a thousand years old, had been hunted by the Emperor’s servants –​he had been irresistibly attracted to it for its tenderness. Moved by the beast’s affection, Yoshitsune affords him the drum. The delighted fox predicts the assault of Kakuhan’s band and promises to protect Yoshitsune and the real Tadanobu using his magical powers. It is then that Kakuhan attacks the house to find little Emperor Antoku sheltered by Yoshitsune. She (the Emperor is actually a girl as we will discuss hereunder) tells Kakuhan/​Noritsune that the Heike generals had been destroyed by Yoshitsune and what she wants now is to see her mother who had become a priestess in Kyoto. Yoshitsune allows Kakuhan to accompany the Empress to a safe place, deferring a fight. In the final part, Tadanobu with the aid of the magical fox strikes down Kakuhan and revenges his brother who had been killed by Kakuhan in a former battle. At this moment, Kawagoe (the father of Yoshitsune’s dead wife) appears carrying the head of the killed Tomokata and announces that the (furtive) imperial order to defeat Yoritomo was a conspiracy contrived by the evil high noble and that Yoshitsune is innocent. With this declaration, the play ends in an atmosphere of felicitation.

Parallel worlds joined by “as it turned out” As Hara Michio analyses in his suggestive paper,25 the play’s most dramatic moments arrive when the audience finds out that two apparently separate characters are actually a single figure in disguise: the ship agent, whose habits and behavior belong to the 18th century, is in fact a Heike general in the 12th century, his seeming child is the Emperor, a modest sushi shop servant is found to be the Heike heir, a fierce soldier monk is a doughty warrior of the clan, and Yoshitsune’s faithful servant is a fox in disguise. The play is constructed on successive and unexpected discoveries that Hara calls the dramaturgy of “as it turned out.” This technique is also extended to dramatic devices such as finding out that the despised Gonta is a man of devotion or that the true intention of Yoritomo’s agent is to rescue the Heike prince. Certainly a chain of surprising twists of this kind gives the play a taste of melodrama due to their strong effects, which are proper to a popular stage, but the dramaturgy

112  Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees also has a particular cultural background. While the basic concept is allied with divine revelations found in traditional folkloric performances (e.g., as we have indicated earlier, the appearance of a deity after a series of hardships in Buddhist/​Shintoist narratives) and Mugen-​Noh (dream Noh play composed of two parts in which the “real” protagonist of the play appears in the latter half), it is also derived from the kabuki plot yatsushi, where a noble character purposefully disguises himself as a person of lower-​rank. The contrast between appearance and reality in these techniques works to produce a distinct theatricality. In Yoshitsune, however, appearance is not a pretext for discovering the truth. If we borrow Hara’s expression, the “temporal figure” of a character is as important as his/​her “true figure,”26 because it is not the dichotomy between the two aspects of the character but their fusion by means of the juxtaposition of two different ages and cultures that is important, in other words, a sense of parody. The idea is most successfully developed in the Act of the Tokaiya (Ship Agent in Daimotsu) in Part  2, which was most likely written by Namiki Sōsuke. The act is a mimicry of Noh plays, especially Funabenkei (Benkei aboard Ship), in which the ghost of a dead Heike general forges up a storm to torment the fugitive Yoshitsune and his follower Benkei aboard. In bunraku, the transformation of Ginpei (the master of the ship agency) into a Heike general takes place through his abrupt and solemn announcement that he is “the ghost of Taira no Tomomori, scion in the ninth generation of the Emperor Kanmu,”27 a phrase that is adopted from the Noh play (from this moment, the chanting also simulates Noh). As Uchiyama’s study indicates,28 the narration imitating both Noh and The Tale of the Heike serves as a point of reference for the audience, in other words, it describes the predetermined course of history while the dialogue among the characters is spoken in the contemporary language of the audience. At the risk of simplification, we could say that if the former is an epic narration of what has already happened, the latter is a dramatic representation of what is happening. The dramatic tension comes from the formal discrepancy brought about by this intertextual conception (bunraku quotes both Noh and the epic in The Tale). The act ends with Ginpei a.k.a. Tomomori admitting that the Heike had been wrong from the outset by having enthroned a female Emperor. He had knowingly been involved in falsifying the Emperor’s sex in an attempt to alter the fate of the Heike, but it was all to no avail. He could not defeat Yoshitsune no matter how carefully he plotted his schemes. This is the reason why in the act, the sea battle between the Heike and the Genji, which is famous in The Tale, is not represented on stage and its result is simply reported in the style of le récit de Théramène (the dramatic account of a spectacular scene witnessed outside the stage). More important is that Ginpei is not a “temporal figure” before he reveals himself as a Heike general. On the contrary, Ginpei represents the aggressive Osaka merchants of the time. The ship agency is a synonym for such merchants and their dynamic commercial activities and it is furthermore important that a commoner like him, across the ages, could be a

Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees  113 Heike hero who challenges established history, albeit in the dramatic imagination. However, his revision of history is destined to fail because, as Marx has said, history repeats itself, first as a tragedy and second as a farce, heightening the sense of (dis)illusion. By contrast, Yasuke, the young servant in the Sushi Shop Act in Part 3, is a passive character, even after he is revealed to be the Heike heir, Koremori. He resembles Yoshitsune because both of them are powerless noble princes. The act focuses on the process through which not only Yasuke/​Koremori, but Yazaemon and Gonta (father and son of the sushi shop) are also forced to discover their “true” character by way of the horrible accidents. Three men are conjointly bound with the past symbolized by Shigemori, Koremori’s father. In The Tale, Shigemori, who died at an early age, is idealized as the most righteous person among the insolent princes of the Heike. As Uchiyama argues,29 it is the absent Shigemori who leads the developments in the act. Yazaemon protects Koremori because Shigemori had forgiven him when he had embezzled the gold entrusted to him in his youth. Gonta the hoodlum reforms himself when he finds Shigemori’s portrait in the belongings of Lady Wakaba that he had stolen and identifies who Yasuke is. Finally, Koremori’s life is spared by Yoritomo, who is obliged to the generosity Shigemori had shown him when he was a little boy and was threatened with execution.

Figure 5.1 Tomomori/​Ginpei’s desperate fight against destiny (scene from Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees). Yoshida Tamao, lead puppeteer. © National Bunraku Theatre.

114  Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees The great irony of the act lies in the fact that father and son must face absurdity in an effort to retrieve their “true” selves; for Yazaemon, this means recompensing Shigemori with his loyalty to the lord’s heir, and for Gonta, reinstating his reputation as an honest son. Their sacrifices are found meaningless, as all is predetermined by the rigid law of Buddhist karma (here again we notice the dispassionate eyes of Namiki Sōsuke, who comes from a priest origin). Commoners like Yazaemon and Gonta, who believe that they are taking action for their own sakes, exert no influence on the course of history. According to Hara,30 however, the folly of these events urges Koremori, the most uninvolved character, to find his “true” calling, that is, renouncing the world to become a priest. In Part 4, the disunion of the characters’ “temporal” and “true” figures is visualized by Fox Tadanobu. This fox disguised as a human being suggests family affection. The words of the fox are ironical: “When a child is unfilial to his parents, human beings call him a mere brute, say he’s a worthless fox.”31 The devotion of the fox to his hunted parents reversely highlights the difficulties that the Genji prince confronts: the doubts that his elder brother has thrown on his sincerity. Yoshitsune laments: “Here I have been abandoned by the brother whom I have looked on as a parent … in what sort of previous existence, can have visited upon me such a karma as this?”32 We must not forget that the Japanese before the modern period (and even afterward) were less anthropocentric; their souls were not completely cut off from their equivalent in animals (and plants). They believed that not only the fox, but also the raccoon dog, Japanese weasel, and other animals were also capable of transforming themselves and bewitching human beings. Different from their Western counterparts, however, these animals were by no means demonic. Sometimes humorous, they found their place in the shadows of the human spirit, as were seen in many ukiyo-​e prints. As Matsui Kesako indicates,33 the presence of Fox Tadanobu reminds the audience that animals can have deeper affections than human beings who are tempted to conflict with one another in family discords like the one between the Genji brothers. It is even possible to say that the fox represents the commoners, suggesting that they are more humane than the warriors and aristocrats who prefer struggle to family reunion. According to Watanabe Tamotsu’s interpretation,34 the parents of Fox Tadanobu may have been symbolic of oppressed farmers. The foxes’ skin was requested by the Emperor to make a drum for a ceremony praying for rain. Part  4 also concerns another disguised character:  the Heike general Noritsune in the ruse of the Buddhist monk Kakuhan. When Kakuhan attacks Yoshitsune, it is the Genji general who calls him by his real name Noritsune, sending the message that he knows Noritsune’s secret plan to restore the Heike. Moreover, Emperor Antoku tells Noritsune that the other Heike generals have already been defeated by Yoshitsune. The cycle of history is closed, and there is no longer any room for Noritsune to reverse its course. The only remaining way is a single combat with Yoshitsune, however, this is

Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees  115 undertaken by his substitute, Fox Tadanobu. The death of the real Noritsune therefore is hidden in the legitimate course set by history.

Construction of an alternative history The Japanese have nurtured a particular preference for heroic figures whose virtue lies in what Ivan Morris calls the “nobility of failure.”35 It is related to the sentiment that in fictional narratives, a losing hero is more attractive than a successful winner. More precisely, the greater the achievement of a hero prior to his fall, the more pitiful his path to doom. The sensibility is as pathetic as it is melodramatic, as it was rooted in the vulgar imagination as concretized in medieval popular narratives. The concept of the idealized loser dominates The Tale of the Heike as a whole (although it is not included in Morris’ work) and a part of The Taiheiki –​especially the narratives about Kusunoki Masashige. However, the most representative case involves the stories about Yoshitsune, from which the term hōgan-​biiki (empathy for the loser as represented by Yoshitsune) was born, gaining popularity among commoners in the 17th century.36 Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees is basically a play about losers. While Yoshitsune is finally proven uninvolved in the courtly conspiracy and his relationship with his elder brother is not damaged, it is obviously a make–​ believe peace, for the audience was familiar with The Gikeiki (The Chronicle of Yoshitsune) which tells of the Genji prince and his entourage who must continue the escape journey to the northern part of Japan, where he is destined to be killed. Seen from this angle, it is no surprise that there is a similarity between Yoshitsune and the surviving Heike generals –​both are losers. Tomomori as well as Noritsune, despite their rebellion against the course of history, finally accept their predetermined roles. Although he is not confronted by Yoshitsune himself, Koremori’s recognition that Buddhist principles seal the fate of an individual resembles the words of Yoshitsune: “in what sort of previous existence, can have visited upon me such a karma as this?” As we have indicated several times, the canon of the bunraku history play is the eternal return –​the restoration of initial order through a series of troubles. This can be linked to the authorities’ intent to maintain the status quo of society. However, nothing stands still or goes back to its starting point in history. In Yoshitsune, significant human acts take place, such as the Heike generals’ maneuvers and the loyal acts of Yazaemon and Gonta. The play shows, nonetheless, that these events turn out to be worthless accidents in regard to the mainstream of historical events. Characters strive for nothing and their deeds in the end converge into immovable accumulations of legitimate facts. It is the gap between what is happening on stage and what is thought to have happened (and is going to happen) offstage that gives rise to the play’s theatrical tension. The dramaturgy may be compared to Brechtian techniques in its contrast of two different kinds of histories: the one written in capitals and the other as seen through the daily lives of the people.

116  Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees However, the play definitely deviates from official history on one point: the fate of the Emperor Antoku. Historical fact states that he died in the final sea battle between the Heike and the Genji and that the Emperor was not a girl. In the play, the fall of the Heike is attributed to the trick played by the late Kiyomori, a great patriarch of the family, of enthroning a royal princess as a prince. This indicates that females were (and “are”) excluded from the role of Emperor in the Edo period.37 Why does the play adopt this plot? Despite her characterization as an eight-​ year-​old girl, Emperor Antoku behaves quite politically. She tells the defeated and desperate Tomomori that she prefers to be protected by Yoshitsune, thereby leaving the Heike, and later admonishes Noritsune that any further resistance by the clan would not stand a chance. Contrary to history, she then survives to become a priestess, according to Yoshitsune’s accounts. While it is easy to see the opportunism of the imperial institution in her attitude,38 her presence in the play seems to have more implications. As a matter of fact, the last years of the Heike saw the coexistence of two Emperors from 1183 to 1185 (Emperor Antoku and Emperor Go-​Toba), similar to what happened during the period of scission between the Northern and the Southern Courts in the 14th century. During this period, the three imperial regalia were kept on the Antoku side. In Part  4 of the play, the Emperor Antoku is found on Mount Yoshino with Yoshitsune. Logically speaking, there is no need for the pursued general to take the Emperor all the way to his hiding place. The focus of this part is the fact that it takes place on Mount Yoshino. Mount Yoshino is famous not only for its cherry trees but also as the place where the Emperor Go-​Daigo, leader of the Southern Court, took refuge with the imperial regalia after his defeat in the power struggle in Kyoto –​a fact that the audience in the 18th century would have been familiar with, judging from the popularity of The Taiheiki. Consequently, it was necessary for Yoshitsune and the female Emperor, who had been erased from history, to appear in Yoshino, the symbolic location of the Southern Court marked with the “nobility of failure.” As we have noted, contrary to the title, there is no part in the play in which the cherry trees are in full bloom.39 It is an imaginary scene in which the losers in history –​Yoshitsune and the Emperor Antoku, like those of the Southern Court  –​enjoy the flowers. If these flowers themselves are absent from the stage, the more so it criticizes the present, authentic history.

Notes 1 For Japanese histories compiled before the Meiji Reform (1868), see SakamotoTarō (1980) and John S. Brownlee (1991). 2 Brownlee (1991, p. 126). 3 Ikegami Eiko (1995).

Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees  117

4 5 6 7

Yokota Fuyuhiko (2009, p. 370, 2018, pp. 151–​174). Uchiyama (1991, p. 265). Yokota (2009. p. 364). As we shall discuss in Chapter 7, however, handwritten copies of clandestine information played a nonnegligible role in early modern Edo society. 8 CZ 12, p. 565. Gerstle (2001, p. 304). 9 Wakao (2015, p. 115). 10 Ibid. 11 For the English translation of both tales, see Helen Craig McCullough (1979,  1988). 12 Wakao (2012, p. 43). For The Taiheiki Rijinshō, see also Imai Shōnosuke, Kami Hiroshi and Nagasaka Shigeyuki (2002). For Taiheiki-​ yomi, see Nakamura Yukihiko (1983) and Nagatomo Chiyoji (2000). 13 This statement is a simplified version of the political situation involving Go-​ Shirakawa and the Heike clan for the sake of readers who are less interested in medieval Japanese history. For a detailed account in English, see, for example, McCullough (1988, pp. 3–​5). 14 Konishi Jin’ichi (1993, pp. 98–​99). 15 Takemoto Mikio (2000, p. 185). 16 For Kōwaka-​mai, see James Araki (1964). 17 Yokota (2009, p. 370). 18 For the English translation, see McCullough (1966). 19 Kanda Chisato (2017, pp. 7–​9). 20 For the English translation of the play, see Jones (1993). 21 Kubori (2013, p. 1). For a detailed study of the assignment of the playwrights, see Uchiyama (1989, pp. 300–​313). 22 Jones (1993, p. 5). 23 Hashimoto Osamu (2012, p. 118). 24 For a more detailed analysis of Parts 2 and 3, see Odanaka (2018) and Uchiyama (2018). 25 Hara Michio (1978). See also Hara (2000). 26 Hara (1978, Part I, pp. 119–​121). 27 Jones (1993, p. 113). Takeda Izumo II et al. (1991, p. 444). 28 Uchiyama (2018, p. 17). 29 Ibid., p. 21. 30 Hara (1978, Part II, p. 71). 31 Jones (1993, pp. 242–​243). Takeda Izumo II et al. (1991, p. 515). 32 Jones (1993, p. 248). Takeda Izumo II et al. (1991, p. 518). 33 Matsui (2016, p. 63). 34 Watanabe Tamotsu (1990, p. 254). 35 Ivan Morris (1976). 36 Watanabe (1990, p. 66). 37 The exception was the female Emperor Meishō (inaugurated in 1629), a daughter born from a strategic marriage between the Emperor and the daughter of the shogun as we noted in Chapter  4, and the female Emperor Go-​Sakuramachi (inaugurated in 1762), whose inauguration was strongly opposed by a number of powerful court nobles. The present Imperial Household Law, on the other hand, does not permit the female imperial line. Concerning the female emperors in the Edo period, see Fujita (2018, p. 176).

118  Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees 38 Watanabe (1990, p. 100). 39 In present bunraku and Kabuki direction, cherry trees are in full bloom in Part 4. However, it is a posterior mise-​en-​scène.

Bibliography Araki, James. 1964. The Ballad Drama of Medieval Japan. Berkeley:  University of California Press. Brownlee, John S. 1991. Political Thought on Japanese Historical Writing: From Kojiki (712) to Tokushi Yoron (1712). Waterloo: Wilfrid Laurier University Press. Fujita Satoru. 2018. Edojidai no Ten-​nō [The Emperor in the Edo Period]. Tokyo: Kōdansha. Gerstle, C. Andrew, trans. & annot. 2001. Chikamatsu 5 Later Plays. New  York: Columbia University Press. Hara Michio. 1978. “Jitsuwa no sakugekihō –​ Yoshitsune senbon zakura no baai [The Dramaturgy of ‘As It Turned Out’: In the Case of ‘Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees’].” Parts I and II. In Bungaku [Literature], August 1978 and October 1978: 116–​127, 65–​81. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. —​—​—​. 2000. “‘Rekishi kakunin no dorama –​Tomomori to Sanemori [Drama in the Confirmation of ‘History’:  The Cases of Tomomori and Sanemori].” In Gunki monogatari to sono gekika [War Tales and Their Dramatization]: 187–​222, edited by Kokubungaku Kenkyūshiryōkan [National Institute of Japanese Literature]. Kyoto: Rinsen shoten. Hashimoto Osamu. 2012. Jōruri wo yomou [Let’s Read Bunraku Pieces]. Tokyo: Shinchōsha. Ikegami Eiko. 1995. The Taming of the Samurai:  Honorific Individualism and the Making of Modern Japan. Cambridge: Harvard University Press. Imai Shōnosuke, Kami Hiroshi and Nagasaka Shigeyuki, annot. 2002. Taiheiki Hiden Rijinshō [Secret Annotated Books of the Taiheiki]. 2 vols. Tokyo: Heibonsha. Jones, Stanleigh H. Jr., trans. & annot. 1993. Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees: A Masterpiece of the Eighteenth Century Japanese Puppet Theater. New  York: Columbia University Press. Kanda Chisato. 2017. Senkyōshi to Taiheiki [The Missionaries and The Taiheiki]. Tokyo: Shūeisha. Konishi Jin’ichi. 1993. Nihon Bungakushi [History of Japanese Literature]. Tokyo: Kōdansha. Kubori Hiroaki. 2013. “Jōrurishi no naka no Yoshitsune senbon zakura [Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees in the History of Bunraku]. In Kamigata bunka kōza:  Yoshitsune senbon zakura [Lecture on Osaka Culture:  Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees]: 1–​24. Osaka: Izumishoin. Matsui Kesako. 2016. Kabuki. A  Mirror of Japan:  Ten Plays That Offer a Glimpse into Evolving Sensibilities. Translated by David Crandall. Tokyo: Japan Publishing Industry Foundation for Culture (JPIC). McCullough, Helen Craig, trans. & annot. 1966. Yoshitsune:  A Fifteenth-​Century Japanese Chronicle. Stanford: Stanford University Press. —​—​—​, trans. & annot. 1979. The Taiheiki:  A Chronicle of Medieval Japan. Tokyo: C. E. Tuttle. (First published in 1959.) —​—​—​, trans. & annot. 1988. The Tale of the Heike. Stanford: Stanford University Press.

Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees  119 Morris, Ivan. 1976. The Nobility of Failure. New York: New American Library. Nagatomo Chiyoji. 2000. “Gunsho kōshaku no sekai [The World of War Chronicle Narration].” In Gunkigatari to geinou [Narration of War Chronicles and the Performing Arts]: 136–​155, edited by Yamashita Hiroaki. Tokyo: Kyūko Shoin. Nakamura Yukihiko.1983. “Taiheiki no kōshakusha tachi [The Narrators of The Taiheiki].”In Nakamura Yukihiko chojutsushū [Writings of Nakamura Yukihiko], Vol. 10: 119–​127. Tokyo: Chūōkōronsha. Odanaka Akihiro. 2018. “Notes on ‘Yoshitsune & The Thousand Cherry Trees:  A Reading.’” Translated by Alan Cummings. English Journal of JSTR (online journal) 1: 3–​11. Available as e-​text: www.jstage.jst.go.jp/​article/​ejstr/​1/​1/​1_​3/​_​pdf. Sakamoto Tarō. 1980. Nihon no shūshi to shigaku [Compilation of Japanese History and Historical Studies]. Tokyo: Shibundō. (First published in 1966.) Takeda Izumo II, Namiki Senryū, and Miyoshi Shōraku. 1991. “Yoshitsune senbon zakura [Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees].” Annotated by Tsunoda Ichirō and Uchiyama Mikiko. In Shin Nihon koten bungaku taikei [New Collection of Japanese Classsic Literature], Vol. 93: 393–​536. Tokyo: Shōgakukan. Takemoto Mikio. 2000. “Nō Kyōgen to gunki oyobi senki gatari [Narration of War Chronicles Adapted into Noh and Kyōgen Works].” In Gunkigatari to geinou [Narration of War Chronicles and the Performing Arts]: 183–​ 202, edited by Yamashita Hiroaki. Tokyo: Kyūko shoin. Uchiyama Mikiko. 1989. Jōrurishi no jūhasseiki [The 18th Century in the History of Bunraku]. Tokyo: Bensei shuppan. —​—​—​. 1991. “Engekishi no nakano Ten-nō [The Emperor in the History of the Theatre].” In Nihon no kinsei:  Ten-nō to Shogun [The Japanese Early Modern Period:  The Emperor and the Shogun], Vol. 2:  251–​306, edited by Tatsuya Tsuji. Tokyo: Chūōkōronsha. —​—​—​. 2018. “Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees:  A Reading.” English Journal of JSTR 1 (online journal). Translated by Alan Cummings. https://​doi.org/​ 10.18935/​ejstr.1.1_​12. Wakao Masaki. 2012. Taiheiki-​yomi no Jidai [The Age of the Lecturers of The Taiheiki]. Tokyo: Heibonsha. (First published in 1999.) —​—​—​. 2015. “Kinsei nihon no dokusho kankyō, ryūtsū kankyō [Circumstances concerning Book Reading and Circulation in Early Modern Japan].” In Shomotsu bunka to sono kitei [Bibliographical Culture and Its Basis]: 87–​122, edited by Wakao Masaki. Tokyo: Heibonsha. Watanabe Tamotsu.1990. Senbonzakura. Hana no nai shinwa [The Thousand Cherry Trees: A Myth Without Flowers]. Tokyo: Tokyo shoseki. Yokota Fuyuhiko. 2009. Tenka taihei [Peacefulness in the Edo Perid]. Tokyo: Kōdansha. (First published in 2002.) —​—​—​. 2018. Nihon kinsei shomotsu bunkashi no kenkyū [A Study of Japanese Bibliographical Culture in the Early Modern Period]. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten.

6  The Treasury of Loyal Retainers Money can buy you loyalty

The loyalty of the samurai in this play, written by the commoners, should be understood in terms of deals and honesty, in other words, the ethics of the merchant class, for this was a drama of the samurai seen through the eyes of the commoners. In the meantime, as The Treasury of Loyal Retainers, including its adaptations and historical studies on the vendetta, has developed into a national myth about Japanese loyalty, distinguishing the bunraku piece per se from its related narratives is necessary. We must also examine the life of the samurai in the 18th century, which was very difficult due to the national economic growth that mainly benefitted commoners in the city.

Chūshingura and the development of a national myth The Treasury of Loyal Retainers or Chūshingura is a living example of how a narrative world has formed around core historical events. Over 300 years has passed since the vendetta in 1703 instigated by a group of 47 ex-​retainers from the Akō domain, yet the incident has been narrated not only in dramas and works of fiction but, in the modern period, also in movies and TV shows, including the Hollywood version of the 47 Ronin in 2013. Chūshingura premiered in August 1748 in Osaka. Since then, so many posterior inventions and details have accumulated over the years in other narratives comprised of historical facts, conjectures, fiction, and dramatization (all generalized under the rubric of Chūshingura) that it is difficult today to discern this particular play.1 At the same time, Chūshingura was not the first work of its kind, either; records suggest that the vendetta may have been dramatized as a kabuki play in 1703, just two weeks after the death penalty of the loyal warriors (it was also reported that authorities suspended the performance three days after it premiered). Since that time, at least 31 bunraku and kabuki plays related to the incident have been staged, including Chikamatsu’s two bunraku works before the production of Chūshingura.2 Besides dramatic pieces, “factual records” (jitsuroku) concerning the incident also appeared.3 These records laid the groundwork for future narratives to be developed, borrowing their style from the war chronicle The Taiheiki. Consequently, from the very beginning,

The Treasury of Loyal Retainers  121 the Akō Incident formed a narrative complex composed of plays, purported records, kōdan (oral entertainment in the style of The Taiheiki), and polemics among Confucian intellectuals about the legitimacy of the revenge. The Treasury of Loyal Retainers in 1748 is considered the best work fictionalizing the incident. So we must be careful not to confuse the narrative world of Chūshingura composed of these elements and the bunraku piece per se. For that reason, a clear distinction should be made between the two; in this text, the former shall be referred to as the “Chūshingura narratives” and the latter simply as Chūshingura or The Treasury of Loyal Retainers. As a matter of fact, both the bunraku original and the kabuki adaptation do not depict the 47 retainers individually; only eight of them, including the vendetta’s dissidents, are assigned major roles in the play.4 Certainly it is reasonable from a practical viewpoint because the stage would be overcrowded if 47 warriors were all present. In the final act of revenge, present bunraku direction represents these 46 (not 47) with 10 puppets at most.5 The Japanese audience, however, is familiar with more stories concerning the retainers than those presented in the play, such as the anecdote about Horibe Yasubei, a brave swordsman. The Akō samurais’ stories have been told not only in plays but also in popular kōdan narratives (with as much fictional adaptation as real fact) such as the Collected Stories of Individual Loyal Retainers (Gishi memei den). In the modern period, this narrative tradition has further been succeeded by popular fiction, drama, and movies. Nowadays Chūshingura is generally regarded as a play that emphasizes the samurai’s loyal spirit. This idea is questionable, however, because the notion of loyalty has shifted over the ages. We can say that it is rather the Chūshingura narratives, arguably those from the modern period, that have contributed to the formation of this implicit understanding of loyalty shared by the Japanese. Meanwhile, this idea was also exported abroad, into the horizon of expectation marked by Japonisme/​orientalism. Apotheosizing the Japanese sense of loyalty took a historic turn in 1868, the year of the Meiji revolution, when Emperor Meiji, who moved the capital from Kyoto to Tokyo (which had been called Edo up to the year before), sent an imperial delegate to Sengaku-​ji Temple where the tombs of the loyal retainers are found, praising their faithfulness.6 The message was clear. Different from the shogun and feudal lords who were responsible only for their vassals (they were not concerned with commoners except for tax collection purposes), the Emperor is the lord of all Japanese people, and as such, he expects all of his (male) subjects to follow the example of the faithful retainers and become samurai like them. Since then, the Chūshingura narratives –​dramas, narrative entertainment, works of fiction, movies, and even historical research –​seem to have vacillated between two poles:  essentialism and (cultural) relativism. As Miyazawa Seiichi’s study indicates, this mixing of the sense of loyalty, self-​sacrifice, and affiliation (which were thought prerequisite for the Japanese mentality) with

122  The Treasury of Loyal Retainers the stories of the 47 retainers was commonplace for Chūshingura narratives formed during the period of imperialistic Japan.7 The trend was especially highlighted in wartimes such as the Russo-​Japanese War (1904–​1905) and the second Sino-​Japanese War (1937–​1945). Genroku Chūshingura (written between 1934 and 1941) by Mayama Seika (1878–​1948) –​an extremely long play composed of 10 parts –​stands as if to respond to the Meiji Emperor’s appeal. The leader of the ex-​retainers, Kuranosuke, is moved to tears when he is told of the Emperor’s compassion on the lord of Akō (there is no evidence of this in history).8 Kuranosuke is also merciful toward farmers in the domain, however, as Donald Keene insightfully points out, it is “an echo of the politics of the 1930s, when a love of the soil and sympathy for the farmers were an integral part of the philosophy of the young army officers who rose in rebellion.”9 To counterbalance the moralistic aspects stressed in the Chūshingura narratives, various approaches, both in research and fiction, have been made to “deconstruct” the national myth. Starting from a survey of the historical “truth” of the incident, via a study of two conflicting feudal domains in terms of their industry and economy, deconstruction efforts have also involved a modern psychological analysis of the retainers and their internal conflict between duty and desire, in short, an inquiry into the avengers’ human aspects. The most ambitious study based on cultural relativism appeared, however, in the late 20th century with Maruya Saiichi’s What is Chūshingura? (Chūshingura towa nanika: 1984).10 Maruya, an influential man of letters, examined Chūshingura from an anthropological standpoint: as Chūshingura had affinities with the revenge plays of the Soga brothers − so he argues − and these revenge plays had conventionally been staged in the new year, Maruya considered it as a kind of annual ceremony to soothe the revengeful spirits of the dead retainers. If we follow Maruya’s interpretation, the play would have had a festive quality like a carnival, which is not necessarily proper for the Japanese. Maruya’s proposition was severely criticized by Suwa Haruo, a bunraku and kabuki specialist.11 In the first place, why would people start this “ritual” particularly in 1748, nearly a half-​century after the incident? Second, plays prior to Chūshingura related to the Akō Incident were varied in their contents and not all of them were meant to soothe the vengeful spirits. Maruya’s ideas evidently cannot withstand scholarly investigation, however, as Matsui suggests,12 his attempts should be taken as an antidote against an essentialist approach to the Chūshingura narratives. The popularity of the stories regarding the 47 retainers attracted the attention of Westerners who visited Japan after its “opening” in the mid-​19th century. Their interest was oriented to the particular culture of the samurai found in the story, that is, the sense of honor and loyalty that culminates in the act of seppuku. Consequently, the first writers who took notice of this Japanese drama, like Algernon Betram Freeman-​Mitford who introduced the play’s synopsis in Tales of Old Japan (1871),13 were intrigued by the samurai’s ethical and behavioral standards different from their own. In this vein, they

The Treasury of Loyal Retainers  123 were involved, consciously or unconsciously, in the essentialist view that Japan was a “special” country. In 1875, a full-​length translation of the play by Frederick Victor Dickens appeared.14 Although the translator states the work is mainly based on the bunraku play, the narrative part was completely remade to make the text understandable to foreign readers. Thus, the translation is more like a story than a play. A close survey of Aaron M. Cohen about the reception of Chūshingura in Western countries suggests that these two pioneering works, along with other undertakings that followed, paved the way for spreading the Chūshingura narratives, in lieu of the bunraku piece.15 It is no wonder that the subsequent (partial or significantly adapted) staging of the play in France in the late 19th century and early 20th century were marked with a strong atmosphere of Japonisme, accentuating the singularity of Japanese culture. The most important work after Mitford and Dickens is without doubt John Masefield’s three-​act play The Faithful (1916), inspired by the Chūshingura story.16 While it is easy to identify the author’s lack of basic knowledge about Japanese culture and history, it is erroneous to judge the work simply by the quality of Japaneseness within it. Because, as Cohen indicates, Masefield “borrowed a plot from Japan and wrote an English play.”17 It stresses the universality of faithfulness, not the one found in the particular play. In this regard, Masefield’s play could be seen as another relativist approach to the Chūshingura narratives. It must also be noted that The Faithful was produced in Britain during the Great War, when loyalty and self-​sacrifice were of utmost importance.18 Having thus overviewed how a national and international myth of the Chūshingura narratives about honor, revenge, and bloodshed has evolved in the modern period, we must now turn our eyes to Chūshingura in the 18th century when it was first produced as a bunraku piece. For that effect, we must first consider the facts and social backgrounds thereof.

The Akō Incident The Edo period counted about 250 feudal domains called han. As mentioned in the introduction, the largest domain was the Kaga han with a (taxable) rice output of 1,000,000 koku (one koku equals about five bushels), followed by the Satsuma han (720,000 koku) and the Sendai han (620,000 koku). These huge domains, however, were exceptional and hans with a rice production of more than 300,000 koku were limited to 15, or less than 10% of the total. Hans with outputs between 300,000 and 100,000 koku totaled 32 while the rest fell below 100,000. About 150 hans (nearly 60% of the total number of hans) were small domains with rice outputs under 50,000.19 The feudal domains were thus composed of a pyramidal structure. As a feudal lord could (and “should”20) employ approximately 100–​200 vassals per 10,000 koku, the total number of retainers in the Kaga domain reached about 16,000, while hans with a production of less than 50,000 koku employed only a couple hundred retainers. Vassals were also hierarchical

124  The Treasury of Loyal Retainers according to their income (stipend), and great disparities existed. In the Kaga han, there were several chief retainers who earned more than 10,000 koku, comparable to independent feudal lords. In a small han like the Akō domain (with an output of 50,000) the chief retainer Ōishi Kuranosuke was afforded 1,500 koku. Among the rest of the 300 vassals, the bottom warriors were given only a couple koku or hired with a small amount of money in place of rice (which meant casual employment).21 The han were not assured of their everlasting status; they could be abolished by a decision made by the Tokugawa government. The most likely reason for a han’s abolishment was a lack of an heir to the feudal lord. In fact, because of the poor nutritional and hygienic conditions of the day, this occurred quite often (and was also what enabled Yoshimune to climb up to the position of shogun). Consequently, the most important work for a feudal lord was procreation, or keeping his lineage intact. When a lord without an heir faced the risk of death, chief retainers, in a last resort, would arrange to adopt an heir from another feudal lord’s family, because what mattered was not blood, but the continuity of the feudal domain. If a han ceased to exist, it meant the vassals would be unemployed (rōnin: samurai without a job). As a result, families of feudal lords were interlinked with networks not only through marriage but also through adoption. One of the sons of Kira Kōzuke-​no-​suke, the figure assaulted by the lord of Akō, had been adopted into the house of Uesugi, a distinguished feudal lord with a rice output of 150,000 koku. As a matter of fact, Kira was not an official feudal lord (daimyō)22 but was a direct vassal of the shogun (hatamoto) with an income of about 4,000 koku. However, because his family was of a pedigree dating back to the Ashikaga shogunate in the 14th century, the Kira house was assigned a (nominal) high rank in the court by the Tokugawa shogun to preside over courtly affairs in the Edo government. Kira was thus an influential person for these matters despite his seemingly low rank. As noted in the introduction, feudal lords (daimyō) had to stay in the capital of Edo every two years. During their stay, they were regularly summoned to Edo Castle to pay court to the shogun. The incident took place in April 1701 (the third month in the lunar calendar) when the shogun was to receive visiting imperial delegates from Kyoto in return for the shogun’s envoy previously sent to Kyoto for the new year’s greetings. Asano was in charge of this reception under the guidance of Kira who supervised the ceremony. In one of Edo Castle’s great corridors, Asano suddenly attacked Kira with his sword, crying “remember my indignation the other day!”23 He was blocked by another lord nearby and Kira, though wounded, fled safe. The shogun at the time, Tsunayoshi, was enraged at this ignominy and ordered Asano to kill himself the day of the scandal. The Akō han –​more precisely, Asano’s right to rule over the Akō domain –​was confiscated by the governmental order and his vassals became unemployed and dispersed outside of the territory. One year later, in the 12th month of Genroku 15 (January 1703), 46 of the former Akō retainers led by the ex-​chief retainer Ōishi Kuranosuke, made an assault

The Treasury of Loyal Retainers  125 on Kira’s residence in Edo and killed him. After that, they presented themselves to the authorities, claiming that their act was legitimate revenge and not a private battle between warriors.24 They were sentenced to seppuku, an honorable penalty for warriors, not for the homicide of revenge but because they had acted in a group. (The formation of a sect of any kind was strictly forbidden under the Edo regime.) The cause for the vendetta of the 47 ex-​retainers (rōnin) was as follows. According to the customary law of warriors, “it takes two to make a quarrel” (this principle certainly worked as a deterrent to samurai’s slashing their swords). Why then, was only Asano sentenced to death when there should have been some fault on Kira’s side as well? A  large amount of study, assumption, and investigation has been made into the so-​ called discord between the two lords as well as the “true” motive behind Asano’s attack. We don’t think it necessary to enter into any reasoning of this kind, because we are not concerned with what actually happened, but how it appeared to the eyes of commoners like the bunraku authors and their audience. In this line, it is noteworthy that warriors in the Edo period were de facto townspeople. Like the shogun, who customarily assembled the daimyō to his capital, feudal lords also gathered their vassals to their castle towns (because in the early Edo period, the insurgent spirit of the preceding age lingered on and if vassals were living in remote places, they could rebel against their lord). As the lords were permitted by the shogunate to construct only one castle in their domains, castle towns became the centers of different territories. The towns also included the commoners’ quarters and these commoners  –​ including merchants, artisans, and priests –​served the lives of the warriors. The city of Edo was the largest example of these castle towns, constructed following a grand design with a castle in the center, surrounded by ample land for feudal lords and the shogun’s direct vassals. Attached to this were relatively small, densely populated quarters for the commoners. Castle towns and cities, consequently, were composed of two distinctive worlds of warriors and commoners. Its topology can be understood with some simplification. While the former monopolized politics (and the orthodox culture derived therefrom such as studies of Chinese classics and Noh theatre), the latter represented the economy (and spontaneous vulgar culture including kabuki, bunraku, popular fiction, and most of all, pleasure quarters). In this us-​and-​them world, commoners in big cities like Edo and Osaka were curious to know the samurais’ business all the more because they were excluded from official affairs. They were onlookers of happenings on the other side of the city. And this was the reason why so many troubles within the lords’ households as well as bloodshed and vendettas like the Akō Incident were repeatedly dramatized and narrated in popular culture, despite censorship. How, then, were warriors in the early 18th century seen by commoners? Presumably, there was as much irony as respect in the eye of the commoners. The samurai regime indeed faced much difficulty with the ever-​ growing presence of commoners.

126  The Treasury of Loyal Retainers

The Kyōhō Reforms and social contradiction In 1748, three  years had passed since Tokugawa Yoshimune (1684–​1751) conceded his position as ruler to his son Ieshige (1712–​1761). Meanwhile, Yoshimune continued to exercise political power as the retired shogun. The 30+ years from Yoshimune’s inauguration in 1716 were marked with continuous trial and error in rehabilitating the Tokugawa regime through the so-​ called Kyōhō Reforms.25 During the first two decades of his administration, Yoshimune took all possible measures to rebuild the government’s budget deficit, such as raising the tax rate on rice output, borrowing rice from feudal lords in exchange for partial exemption from the duty of staying in the capital, exploiting new rice fields, developing commercial crops, promoting dried seafood export to China in place of copper (as copper production sharply dropped in the 18th century), and finally, practicing frugality in the shogun and his vassals’ households to reduce expenditures. However, Yoshimune’s greatest mistake during this period was that he, like Hakuseki, clung to “good” currencies with high gold or silver purity, in adherence to Confucian idealism. This cut short the necessary money supply to sustain the national economy and invited deflation. The fiscal remedies during the first stage of the reform caused continuously low rice prices, which led to the devaluation of the warriors’ incomes. In the meantime, a severe famine caused by vermin hit the western region of the country between 1732 and 1733 and the price of rice rose steeply, while it dropped again in the following years. The price of the crop seemed uncontrollable. Then, in 1736, Yoshimune assumed a completely opposite financial policy. He largely increased the money supply with currencies containing less silver and gold, and forged a large amount of copper coins. After the Kanpō era (1741–​1744), the price of rice remained higher than it had been before. Another reason for this stability was that the shogun, after repeated interventions to regulate commercial activities, virtually gave up his control on the market and allowed merchants to speculate.26 In the 1740s, government revenue reached the highest plateau it achieved throughout the Edo period. This, however, did not mean that Yoshimune was a good Tycoon. His reign saw a sharp increase in farmer uprisings nationwide, as farmers suffered from severe taxation under the shogun’s skilled administrators. Yoshimune’s reforms affected even the life of low-​ranking direct vassals under the shogun due to their fixed rice-​based income. As these vassals depended on specialized rice dealers (fudasashi) for cash, they became heavily indebted to merchants following the rise in prices. Even when the price of rice remained high, for petty warriors this rise was cancelled out by the augmented cost of living. Lawsuits over these samurais’ debts occurred so often that Yoshimune once unreasonably rejected such actions, only to engender confusion in the money market. Impoverished samurai resorted to adopting sons of rich commoners who brought them monetary compensation. Authorities prohibited such deals as they ran against the regime’s fundamental distinctions

The Treasury of Loyal Retainers  127 of social class, but they could not stem this tide. Besides, low-​ranking samurai were so poor that it was quite common for poverty-​stricken vassals to pawn their arms, while some could not even ride a horse.27 Additionally, in urban areas, the distinction between warriors and commoners was ambiguous due to the presence of rōnin (unemployed samurai). As a matter of fact, since the beginning of the Edo period, there were always a certain number of rōnin because any han or feudal domain could be confiscated at the will of the Tokugawa authorities. If they were lucky, the rōnin could be reemployed by feudal lords, as in the case of Hakuseki who had also experienced days of unemployment himself. But there were as many luckless warriors who could not be reemployed (Chikamatsu may have been one of them). Rōnin were allowed to wear swords, and of course they were strongly aware of their origins. But pride did not ensure earnings. Well, then, what is a samurai? Status, swords, spirit, or action? Over the course of time, some of these rōnin were possibly absorbed into the commoners rank. Kōshakushi, or entertainers of war chronicles originated from jobless samurai. Chikmatsu’s sewa-​mono play The Almanac Maker and the Old Almanac (1715), which we mentioned in Chapter  3, vividly describes old Bairyū, a proud but poor rōnin who earns his living by overly “performing” a lecture on The Taiheiki (kōshaku) for the townspeople.28 Noteworthy here is that commoners in the city, like Chikamatsu, saw the fates of the rōnin with their own eyes. Ironically or not, it was in this context that the shogun advocated the warrior’s return to the tradition of stressing martial skills, ethics, and endurance. However, the samurai were far from following his campaign. Even some of the top-​ ranking samurai  –​feudal lords  –​ostentatiously counteracted Yoshimune’s reforms aimed at frugality and regulation. Tokugawa Muneharu, lord of the Owari domain (one of the three major Tokugawa branches with an output of 610,000), adopted a policy to stimulate the economy through overconsumption and laissez-​ faire. He published his view criticizing the shogun’s policies, stating that luxury on the top ranks would trickle down and profit the commoners below. He encouraged the construction of akusho (bad places) –​including a theatre district and pleasure quarters –​in the castle city of Nagoya and permitted his retainers to visit such places. He himself also frequented these districts. The city enjoyed this boom, but before long, the domain suffered from a huge deficit.29 Although not as determined in his actions as Muneharu, Sakakibara Masamine, an influential fudai daimyō30of the Himeji domain (with a rice output of 150,000), also liked extravagance and pleasure quarters and spent 3,000 ryō of gold to obtain a renowned courtesan. The Shogun frowned. It must have been be a shock for him because the lords who challenged his rule were connected to the Tokugawa. In the end, he managed to enforce their retirement. At any event, their rebellion was doomed to failure as long as their domains were financed on rice output. A radical change was necessary to get out of this impasse. Yoshimune, a conservative realist, nonetheless preferred to

128  The Treasury of Loyal Retainers maintain the politicoeconomic system put in place a century before by the first Shogun Ieyasu, for whom he held a profound respect. As a result, he succeeded in prolonging the Tokugawa regime for another century, even though the government was full of malfunctions, hence his posterior evaluation as a wise ruler. The nearly 50 years that separates the premiere of Chūshingura (1748) from the Akō Incident (1703) constituted a period when these contradictions of the regime became tangible. Already in the late Genroku era (1700s), both the shogunate and feudal lords were suffering from budget deficits. The greatest reason for this was the upkeep of deadwood warriors. As their personnel was officially fixed in supposition of warfare (there were still warriors during the 90 years of peace), the lords could not reduce their surplus samurai. The financial difficulty also arose from improvements in living standards. While lords and vassals had to account for more expenditures over time, their income (rice output) had been predetermined at the outset of the Tokugawa regime. As Hayami points out,31 under such circumstances, feudal lords were in need of an ideology that could fortify their retainers’ morale:  being patient with poverty, scorning material fulfillment, and remaining absolutely loyal to one’s lord, that is, all the virtues emphasized by Yoshimune in later years. The samurai ethics advocated by Yamaga Sokō (1622–​1685) met such a demand.32 It is doubtful, however, whether this teaching also infiltrated among the vassals. A  famous diary by Asahi Bunzaemon, a low-​ranking warrior of the Owari domain who left daily records from 1691 to 1718 (The Parrot in the Cage: Ōmu rōchūki), minutely describes how samurai during this period lost their warrior spirit and became boring servants.33 Because there were too many vassals, they had to share the slightest tasks and even afterward, they were still at a loss as to what to do with themselves. Bunzaemon was, by the way, an avid theatregoer. As this instance shows, the cultural barrier between samurai and commoners in the city was more or less invalidated. Researchers have found that feudal lords had kabuki and bunraku troops produce plays in their residences as early as the 17th century34 and some of them, like Tokugawa Muneharu, went to the popular theatre. Samurai were more dependent on commoners not only in terms of the economy but also for their cultural activities. The problem was that their relationship was unilateral. While the samurai were free to visit the commoner’s world, the latter were prohibited access to the warrior’s world. Moreover, commercial activities were the last thing that the samurai understood. Even though, like Yoshimune, they were concerned with economic problems, in the end, warriors did not believe in money, as can be seen in the writings of Confucian (and samurai) intellectuals. We must not forget that Chūshingura was born from this distorted cohabitation.

The vendetta as seen by the commoners As indicated, Chūshingura was a compilation of preceding plays that dealt with the Akō Incident. At the same time, as Konta Yōzō and Donald H. Shively

The Treasury of Loyal Retainers  129 suggest,35 it is likely that the dramatization of the Akō Incident engendered a dramaturgy of recounting contemporary topics transferred to the historical past (as a measure for evading censorship). In fact, after the vendetta and the death penalty of the ex-​retainers in 1703, the bakufu (authorities) issued anew a prohibition against theatre people using “unusual events of the times” as materials for their plays.36 A kabuki play in 1703 which is said to have been suspended through governmental interference − while scholars question its staging37 − seems to have already adopted such strategy, because, judging by its title, the play compared the incident to the legendary vendetta of the Soga brothers in the 12th century. At this phase of adaptation, however, topical references remained as simple insinuations, following the popular theatre’s role as tabloid journalism. The next turn came in 1710, after the Shogun Tsunayoshi’s death the year before. Amnesty was granted to Asano’s brother and the house was restored (although with much reduced feud), and people remembered the Akō lord and his retainers. Among the six plays staged during this period, two by Chikamatsu38 and one by Kino Kaion are worth mentioning as they paved the way to the full-​scale dramatization of the incident. It should also be noted that the revival of the Akō Incident during this period occurred exclusively in theatres in Kyoto and Osaka because the bakufu’s interventions there were less direct than in the capital. Chikamatsu’s plays (The Sightseeing Carriage of the Priest Kenkō and Goban Taiheiki, both presumably staged in 1710)39 exerted a direct influence on the later formation of Chūshingura in two regards: in the first place, they were forerunners in transplanting the incident into the world of The Taiheiki.40 With this dramaturgy, the Akō lord became En’ya Hangan and Kira became Kō ​no Moronao, both of whom appear in the war chronicle’s episodes. The chief ex-​retainer Ōishi Kuranosuke, who has no corresponding figure in The Taiheiki, was simply renamed Ōboshi Yuranosuke, while his son Ōishi Chikara in history was renamed Ōboshi Rikiya (as chikara and riki are synonymous when written in Chinese ideograms). These names were eventually adopted by the authors of Chūshingura. Secondly, in Chikamatsu’s play (The Sightseeing Carriage), the reason for the two lords’ conflict, which remains obscure in history, is also taken from an anecdote in The Taiheiki: Moronao’s unrequited love for En’ya’s wife. Kaion’s play (Onikage musashi abumi), which was also staged in 1710 and was an adaptation of the kabuki play with the same title, is characterized by a more close retelling of the incident, starting from the conflict between the two lords in the castle, the seppuku of the one and the confiscation of his territory, then, through several anecdotes about the rōnin,41 the swearing of revenge, leading to the final scene of the vendetta.42 One of the weaknesses of Kaion’s play is that, as the author and Chikamatsu’s rival, Kaion borrows a narrative framework from an old-​fashioned sermon ballad (sekkyō-​bushi), Oguri Hangan, and does not succeed in narrating contemporary events in the framework of the history play.

130  The Treasury of Loyal Retainers The third wave of dramatization began in the Kyōhō era (1716–​1736) and peaked in the 1730s. It continued through the 1740s and produced 17 stages. As the Shogun Yoshimune, in adherence to his reforms, was eager to imbue people with Confucian ethics such as filial piety and loyalty, he interfered in popular culture and questioned its ethical standards. The show business, in order to survive, possibly responded to his demand by producing plays of the Akō vendetta and featuring the aspect of loyalty.43 Two plays during this period are directly connected to Chūshingura: Loyal Retainers:  A Golden Poem Card (Chūshin kogane no tanzaku:  1732)44 and a kabuki play called The Forty-​ Seven Great Arrows (Ōyakazu shijūshichi-​hon: 1747).45 A Golden Poem Card has much in common with Chūshingura because they share Namiki Sōsuke as their leading playwright. As Sōsuke at that time belonged to the Toyotake-​za, a rival of the Takemoto-​za, he remade Kaion’s preceding work set in the world of Oguri Hangan. However, leaving the atmosphere of the medieval narrative in the background, the play develops the story of the Akō Incident with more unconstrained imagination. Plots similar to Chūshingura can also be found in scenes such as that where a low-​ranking retainer steals the money his wife obtained by agreeing to become a prostitute, or where a vassal on the enemy side sacrifices himself for his daughter and the loyal retainers, or where a drunken Yuranosuke (the name of the chief retainer is taken from Chikamatsu) looks out for a spy secretly reading a letter addressed to him. The Forty-​Seven Great Arrows, on the other hand, was renowned for its leading role interpreted by kabuki actor Sawamura Sōjūrō whose acting in the pleasure quarters gained much popularity. It is well known that the Takemoto-​ za’s leading puppeteer and leading chanter were fascinated by the scene and requested the playwrights to incorporate it into Chūshingura, produced the following year.46 As this brief prehistory of Chūshingura indicates, the dramatization of the Akō Incident was also a process for the commoners to reappropriate the revenge story by way of freeing its dramatic world from the constraints of the history play (jidai-​mono), in which current events had to be overlapped with historical occurrences. In this regard, we cannot agree with Shively who sees that plays after Chikamatsu and Kaion do not “reveal new facts about the affair,” and states that “while their successors developed and embellished various episodes, most additions were fiction.”47 It is precisely as a result of this kind of fictionalization that Chūshingura gained its popularity. Shively obviously fails to explain why the play in 1748 was more successful than those in 1710. The reason was because Chūshingura was not constructed as a simple story of revenge. The loyalty of the retainers to their lord certainly constitutes a focal point, however, it is only an aspect in the development of the group vendetta story. As we shall see, the most accentuated elements are the retainers’ hardships, which necessarily involve their devotion and sacrifice as well as that

The Treasury of Loyal Retainers  131 of the commoners, including females. And it is this interaction between the samurai and commoners that is found at the center of the play.

Revenge and money Different from Sugawara and Yoshitsune, which were composed of five parts (dan), Chūshingura is made of 11 parts, even though it does not differ much in length. The elaborate composition of the play can be explained by its featuring of sewa-​mono (domestic play) elements. Since Yoshimune forbade double suicides plays in 1722, sewa-​mono domestic plays had remained inactive. However, in the late 1740s (the period when the shogun retired), the authorities’ intervention in popular culture was alleviated after its long years of regulatory policies. In 1745, a nine-​part sewa-​mono masterpiece by the trio of Sōsuke, Shōraku and Izumo II, Summer Festival and the Mirrors of Osaka (Natsumatsuri naniwa kagami) appeared.48 Chūshingura, written by the same playwriting team, can be positioned along this line. Although the play is set in the narrative world of The Taiheiki, it bears more of a contemporary taste than the preceding two history plays. As in the case of Yoshitsune, we shall not enter into the problem of the authors’ assignments and shall only indicate that Sōsuke, as mentioned above, was in all probability the leading playwright.49 Another commonality that can be found here with the two preceding works is that Chūshingura is constructed on three scenes of death: En’ya (the lord)’s seppuku in Part 2, that of Kampei in Part 6, and the desperate death of Honzō in Part 9. These scenes were all presumably finished by the three authors’ differing pens. This 11-​part play can be seen to be composed of three sections following the story’s development. The first section recounts how the affair originated; the lord (En’ya) is involved in some trouble with the evil one (Kō ​no Moronao) and is forced to kill himself (Parts  1–​4). The second section describes the difficulties faced by the retainers in planning out the vendetta (Parts 5–​10), and finally, the last section details the fulfillment of their act (Part 11).50 The second section is further divided into four subplots: the tragedy of Kampei, a low-​ranking retainer who mistakenly kills himself; the act of Yuranosuke, the chief retainer who seemingly enjoys the pleasure quarters while plotting his revenge; the self-​sacrifice of Honzō, a chief retainer of another feudal house who, through death, realizes his daughter’s marriage to Yuranosuke’s son Rikiya; and finally, the scene of the merchant Amakawa-​ya who proves his honesty to the retainers. At first sight, the play is episodic with characters appearing and leaving one after another. In fact, Yuranosuke, who could be considered as the chief protagonist of the play, appears as late as Part 4,51 and even afterward, there are scenes in which he is not present. By contrast, Moronao, the evil lord, is only active in the first three parts of the play and, after a long absence, he reappears in the final part only to be avenged by the loyal retainers.52 However, there are at least three characters whose presence affects the development of the whole

132  The Treasury of Loyal Retainers play across all of the parts, not to mention the antagonist Moronao. They are Yuranosuke, Kanpei, and Honzō. The relationship of Honzō to his lord Momonoi parallels that of Yuranosuke to his lord En’ya. When their lords are troubled by people like Moronao, Yuranosuke is no different from Honzō in terms of what either would do to save his lord. In the first part, it is Momonoi who is initially insulted by arrogant Moronao. Momonoi, at the limit of his patience, reveals to Honzō that he will kill Moronao the next day. While the vassal encourages Momonoi’s decision, he secretly goes to Moronao’s residence to bribe him beforehand. The next day, the greedy Moronao’s attitude toward Momonoi changes completely, and it is En’ya who becomes his next victim. Another reason for this change in target is also that the evil lord gets frustrated with him (his love letter to En’ya’s wife Lady Kaoyo is politely rejected). It is then that the incident takes place. Honzō blocks En’ya who attacks Moronao in the corridor and prevents him from taking instantaneous revenge. Honzō is loyal to Momonoi in his own right; he succeeds in preventing his lord from sword slashing. The problem is that he achieved this through the power of money. Another problem is that his daughter Konami is engaged to Rikiya, Yuranosuke’s son; and as a result of his having interrupted En’ya’s actions, he becomes an object of reproach to Yuranosuke, not to say his enemy (at the time of his seppuku, En’ya decries Honzō and, in wrath, wonders why Honzō didn’t let him kill Moronao, while Yuranosuke listens to his lord’s last message). How could Honzō prove his sincerity toward the indignant Yuranosuke and his family? Compensation is necessary. In Part 9, in an effort to marry Konami to Rikiya (and by so doing, hoping that his family will be associated to the loyal retainers), he purposefully drives Rikiya to contempt and let the furious young man stab him. The dying Honzō then hands over a blueprint of Moronao’s house, precious information that he has managed to collect. He thereby justifies himself as a reliable person to the family. The case of Kanpei and Okaru is tragic all the more because they are as innocent as they are frivolous. Kampei, one of En’ya’s low-​ranking retainers, and Okaru, a chambermaid to the lord’s wife had accompanied the lord to the palace and were in the midst of a love affair when En’ya attacks Moronao. They are shut out from En’ya’s residence at the critical moment of his death. However, Okaru persuades the ashamed Kampei to take refuge in her parents’ house in the Kyoto countryside, in lieu of committing suicide. In Parts 5 and 6, Okaru has decided to sell herself to the pleasure quarters so that she can give the money to Kampei to help restore him among the ranks of samurai. However, her father, who is carrying her advance pay (from selling herself into prostitution), is killed and robbed in the night in a solitary field near his home. By chance, Kampei, who has fallen into the position of a humble hunter, is pursuing a wild boar and shoots a gun. But what he thought to be an animal is the robber himself, the scoundrel Sadakurō, Ono Kudayū’s son who has abandoned the house of En’ya after the lord’s seppuku. In the darkness, not

The Treasury of Loyal Retainers  133

Figure 6.1 Lord of En’ya’s seppuku (scene from The Treasury of Loyal Retainers). Toyomatsu Seijūrō, lead puppeteer. © National Bunraku Theatre.

knowing who he has mistakenly killed, Kampei finds on the corpse the large sum of money that Sadakurō has just stolen. The delighted Kampei takes it and leaves hastily. Kampei is desperately in need of money to offer to Yuranosuke to be acknowledged as a member of the faithful ex-​retainers who are said to be planning revenge. When he returns to Okaru and her parents’ home, however, the dead body of Okaru’s father, not that of Sadakurō, is brought in by the hunters, and her mother finds Kampei holding a bloody purse. Kampei believes that he has killed his father-​in-​law and embezzled the money. What is worse, ex-​retainers (Yagorō and Gō’emom) − Kampei’s former colleagues − happen to visit the house and see the wretched Kampei. Yagorō blames Kampei: Kampei, I never suggested you atone for your offense by taking money in such an inhuman, unspeakable way. It would be useless trying to explain to you what it means to be a samurai.53 Kampei has no excuse but to commit seppuku. When it comes clear that the death of the old man was not his fault, all they can do is to enroll him in the list of faithful retainers − posthumously. Different from Honzō and Kampei, Yuranosuke seems to be the most unlikely person to be affected by money. And yet he is. As chief retainer of

134  The Treasury of Loyal Retainers En’ya’s house, he is constantly concerned with pecuniary matters, from the problem of distributing the house’s money stock after the death of the lords in Part 4 (the result makes the miserly Ono Kudayū and his son Sadakurō leave the house), to his apology in the final part (after the fulfillment of revenge) to the dead Kampei whose donation he once indifferently refused. His equivocal attitude toward money is the most apparent in Part  7, famous for his pleasure hunting in the (erotic) Ichiriki teahouse. In this part, he is thought to conceal his intentions not only from the probing Kudayū, Yuranosuke’s former colleague now allied with Moronao, and Ban’nai, another spy sent by the enemy, but also from the faithful ex-​retainers who visit him to confirm his intentions. He even tries to kill Okaru, who is incidentally found in the house as a courtesan, because she happened to glance at the letter Yuranosuke received from the ex-​lord’s widow Lady Kaoyo, informing him of the enemy’s whereabouts. Okaru’s life is saved by her brother Hei’emon’s devotion. Hei’emon is a casually employed samurai (ashigaru) whose ranking is even below Kampei’s, but he aspires to take part in the vendetta. He persuades Okaru to be sacrificed by his hand, because he is certain that Yuranosuke will kill her for fear of her revealing his secret. At this moment, the chief retainer recognizes Hei’emon’s honesty and spares Okaru, allowing Hei’emon to join the revenge project. All of these events are brought about by a drunken Yuranosuke who indulges in follies like drinking, singing, dancing, playing, and eating. Kabuki players are especially fond of this part because they can show off their acting, playing a man who feigns being a fool. But the approach seems modernistic as well, because in the history of kabuki, the folly of the pleasure quarters had a different connotation.54 As mentioned, the plot of Part 7 was taken from a kabuki play famous for Sawamura Sōjūrō’s acting. He was a disciple of Sawamura Chōjūrō who played the same plot in 1717, and behind them, there was the great Sakata Tōjūrō I in the Genroku era (the late 17th century), renowned for his acting in the “bad place” scene in yatsushi (a play about a disguised hero). In all likelihood, the reason why audiences have long favored these plays was not so much because of the characters feigning something as the contrast between the misfortunate hero and the luxury and extravagance of the pleasure quarters. Different from the modern interpretation of Yuranosuke in kabuki, the bunraku piece leaves the hero in contradiction: one part of him reveling and the other engaged in the project of revenge. While kabuki actors can seek a consistent psychology for the character by supposing that Yuranosuke is hiding his motives, a bunraku puppet can feign nothing without the aid of the narration, and the text doesn’t mention the ex-​chief retainer’s “hidden” purpose. This maneuver, which reminds us of the Brechtian epic theatre (bunraku is indeed an epic theatre), brings the reality of privileged samurai in those days to the foreground: in other words, the perverted coexistence of respectability and money.

The Treasury of Loyal Retainers  135 Such post-​modern interpretations of Yuranosuke apart, what the audience wanted to see on stage was presumably how a wealthy (and degenerated) samurai indulged in extravagance and folly in the pleasure quarters, with more or less ironic eyes (in this regard we can remember Tokugawa Muneharu and Sakakibara Masamine, feudal lords who liked the extravagance of akusho). Seen from this angle, the following words of Yuranosuke addressed to Hei’emon should be taken at face value, indicating the great disparity that separates the advantaged ex-​chief retainer from the humble vassal: You’re a foot soldier with a stipend of three ryō and an allowance of three men’s rations. … My stipend was 1,500 koku. Compared to you, I might take enemy heads by the bushel and still not do my share. And that’s why I gave up the idea. Do you follow me? At any rate, this uncertain world (sings) is just that sort of place.55 His indulgence is not the same as Hamlet’s madness in revenge. He enjoys himself in flirting with Okaru, as is indicated by his rude joke about Okaru’s sexual organ glimpsed through her kimono when she descends from upstairs. In the play, the avenger must not be an ascetic monk. His loyalty is made compatible with “this uncertain world” under the power of money, thereby constituting the irony of the scene.

The ethics of the deal Chūshingura is, like other bunraku (and kabuki) plays, a story about warriors as seen by the commoners. In this regard, it has nothing to do with what the 47 Akō rōnin were like in reality. Samurai idealized in the commoners’ imagination were projected onto the play, mixed with the commoners’ sense of realism regarding money, love, and trust, from which we can also view the detached stance taken by the playwrights. In fact, the play contains improbable scenes if it is indeed supposed to have described the world of the samurai in the 18th century. For instance, Moronao’s flirting with En’ya’s wife Lady Kaoyo in Part  1 is impossible because warriors’ wives as well as concubines were segregated from the public affairs of men in the Edo period. Although adopted from an episode of The Taiheiki, this plot, devised by Chikamatsu, is as unlikely as the plot of Konami’s love with Rikiya, as the notion of love did not exist in the samurai class (following Confucian ethics). The authors thus imagined the relationship between the sexes in the warrior class based on their own, which was open to Eros (as the love suicides plays by Chikamatsu). On the other hand, such scenes as those of Okaru’s parents’ livelihood in the countryside near Kyoto and the bacchanalian revelry in the akusho are quite “realistic” because they belonged to the life of the commoners. Additionally, the playwrights conceived of the samurai’s behavior in reference to those of the commoners, especially merchants in cities like Osaka.

136  The Treasury of Loyal Retainers Consequently, the authors, in stressing the retainers’ loyalty, see it through their realities: warriors are bound by money. Therefore, the samurai’s conflicts can be arbitrated by money-​based deals like the one Honzō brokers for his lord (bribes were, in reality, a necessary evil in the feudal lords’ diplomacy in Edo Castle) and one could buy their stake in the revenge affair, as Kampei tried to do. If Yuranosuke were not a privileged chief retainer provided with 1,500 koku, he could not have frequented the pleasure quarters. As Hashimoto Osamu points out,56 the narration describing how Honzō bribes Moronao has ironical resonance because it compares him to a white rat (both a symbol of good luck and reference to the white haired Honzō) that repeatedly squeaks. In Japanese, chū (squeak) is a homonym of chū (loyalty), and through this, the author (narrator) implies a cool comment about the old retainer’s devotion.57 Hashimoto finds the passage to suggest the author’s mockery of samurai ethics as emphasized by the authorities, which underlies the whole play. Money, however, is not the sole guiding principle of the characters. It causes tragedy if it does not work as a vehicle for communicating the characters’ integrities. Honzō and Kampei are forced to kill themselves, through a series of misunderstandings and happenings, when they fail to show who they are, or prove that they are honest in their business as samurai. They exchange their lives for this recognition. This, however, also constitutes a kind of  deal. In this line, a merchant also behaves himself similarly to the samurai. This merchant is Amakawa-​ya Gihei, a ship agent who appears in Part 10, who is trusted to transport the loyal retainers’ arms. When he is interrogated by a band of inspectors (they are in fact disguised ex-​retainers who come to check on the reliability of the merchant), he declares with pride: “You can slice me inch by inch … but I won’t regret losing my life because I engaged in honest business.”58 This is preceded by his famous words: “Gihei of the Amakawa-​ ya is a man!” This part, which has been the least popular in modern kabuki stagings because of its easy plot,59 was necessary for the bunraku authors to show that a merchant could be like the samurai, albeit within the context of a play. Indeed, honesty is another currency used for deals between the characters. As noted, Hei’emon, who tries to kill his sister in the name of devotion, is acknowledged by Yuranosuke as an honest retainer and is allowed to join the revenge. In Part 9, Konami’s mother Tonase makes a plea to marry her daughter to Rikiya and is rejected by Oishi, Yuranosuke’s wife, because she considers Tonase’s husband Honzō as lacking in sincerity. Oishi even defends the late Lord En’ya’s misfortune by saying: “This was because of his hasty temper, it is true, but the tragedy arose from his uncompromising honesty.”60 For those working for revenge, righteousness means honesty. On this note, we must mention a few words regarding the female characters in the play. While Tonase and Oishi, much like their husbands, are as determined as they are logical in dealing with the marriage of their children,

The Treasury of Loyal Retainers  137 the women who are concerned in love affairs in the play (Okaru, Konami, and even Lady Kaoyo) are found as factors that disturb the men’s otherwise measurable set of values. In other words, love cannot be properly placed in a world that is based on a system of money and honesty. It is Yuranosuke, nonetheless, who acts as the final arbitrator in evaluating the retainers’ honesty. After the confiscation of the house, he neglects Kudayū and his son because for them, money precedes loyalty. Then, much like a merchant attaching price tags, he assesses the loyalty of minor retainers like Kampei and Hei’emon by their honest deeds, as well as Honzō and Amakawa-​ya, which we have already discussed. His loyalty, on the other hand, surpasses any assessment, for it is based on the absolute goodness of the commission made by the dying and honest En’ya. This is the reason why he is not subject to his enemies’ and former colleagues’ probings (i.e., assessment of loyalty) in Part  7, because he is the epitome of loyalty, the source of all values. The idea that a deal must be accompanied by honesty is found in the writings of Ishida Baigan (1685–​1744), a self-​educated philosopher of farmer’s origin. In 1729, he opened a private school in Kyoto advocating ethics for commoners. Based on his experience as a servant in a merchant house, he claimed a proper place for the merchants in society. While Confucian (and samurai) philosophers before him had difficulty in situating commercial activities within the feudalism of the Edo period and were prone to considering them as surplus interference in the stability of an (idealized) self-​sufficient agrarian community, Baigan refutes this claim and argues that merchant activities are indispensable to society in the same right as those of the samurai and farmers: If he [the samurai] does not receive a stipend, he is not fit for service. If one calls receiving a stipend from one’s lord “greedy” and “immoral,” then … there is not a man who is moral.61 Interesting here is Baigan’s interpretation of the samurai way; he understands the retainers’ loyalty through an analogy of employment in both the merchants and servants’ worlds because, as he notes elsewhere, he was not familiar with the world of warriors.62 Samurai’s loyalty as an official stance, however, was not built on this principle because if we were to follow his logic, the greater the stipend, the greater the loyalty (and vice versa. Remember the words of Yuranosuke cited above. Besides, what then can be done when a samurai is unemployed?). If the samurai did not fall into this dilemma, it was because they were taught to be honest in business regardless of their stipend. Although Baigan’s writings do not explicitly describe the samurai’s logic in this way, they could be read as such. If the samurai behaved themselves in this manner, so should the merchants. They must make proper profits in proper trade, and for that effect, they required honesty. As a projection of such an idea, the samurai in

138  The Treasury of Loyal Retainers Chūshingura belong to the good side as long as they are honest men (evil ones are, on the contrary, greedy for money like Moronao and Kudayū). There is no indication that Takemoto-​za authors were connected to Baigan, however, it is remarkable that similar merchant ethics can be found in the bunraku piece in Osaka and the learnings of a town philosopher in Kyoto. While neither of them bear apparent anti-​establishment notes, they try to understand the samurai’s world through the eyes of the commoners and not through authoritative Confucian teachings. When we compare the imaginary samurai in the play to those living in the mid-​18th century as examined above, who the playwrights as well as the audience were certainly familiar with, we can see a “critical distance” the authors kept from these samurai. The samurai in Chūshingura must form deals while being suspended between their public image as respectable and honest rulers and their realities of being trapped in a money-​dominated world.

The way of the samurai imagined As Uchiyama once warned,63 even researchers tend to see Chūshingura through their knowledge of the kabuki version or, to borrow the terms of James R. Brandon, as a result of “[kabuki’s] theft of Chūshingura.”64 However, there is a considerable difference between the bunraku piece and the kabuki play.65 The present kabuki mise-en-scène is covered with dense layers of interpretation, convention, and devices left by successive star players,66 among which the best known is the case of Sadakurō, the evil dissident who robs and kills Okaru’s father. When the role was played by Nakamura Nakazo I (1736–​1790), he changed the character into a type of decadent bandit found in the city of Edo in the late 18th century. This interpretation has conversely influenced present bunraku staging. Part 7 is, as we have seen, another example where current kabuki acting dominates. Iwai is critical about Matsumoto Kōshirō VIII’s (1910–​1982) interpretation of Yuranosuke where he acts as a feigned drunkard. According to Iwai, the more perfectly Kōshirō VIII alternated between (dissimulated) drunkenness and sobriety, the more uncertain it was whether Yuranosuke was originally such a calculating man67 –​was he that modernized or that serious of a man, a Lorenzaccio of the 18th century?68 Another aspect of the play that we must be aware of is that it was premiered in Osaka and not Edo. Another defect in Maruya’s discussion in What is Chūshingura? is, as Suwa pointed out, that he considered the play to have been founded on the traditions of Edo kabuki. This was not the case. It was a play treating an incident that occurred in the capital as seen from Osaka. One reason why the play is implicitly skeptical about the government’s dogmatic emphasis on loyalty is that it was produced in a merchant city, where Yoshimune’s interventions in cultural activities were less direct than in the capital. Attention must be paid to the present (and unconscious) tendency to view the play with Edo-​centric eyes.

The Treasury of Loyal Retainers  139 These biases apart, Chūshingura was presumably far from being acclaimed as straightforward praise of the samurai way during the Edo period. Admitting that Confucian virtues such as filial piety and loyalty spread among the people of the time, an analysis of the bunraku piece suggests they were re-​ interpreted and appropriated by commoners by way of their own logic, not as the result of authoritative enlightenment, as was the case of Baigan who tried to integrate the (supposed) samurai morality into his universal ethics. It is also uncertain as to what extent the samurai way influenced people’s lives, because the former composed only 8% of the population (including their families and in combination with the number of priests).69 Moreover, it would be difficult to define exactly what constituted the samurai way (bushidō). Hagakure, a famous book that is often cited as being representative of the samurai’s radical ethics during this period, was in fact a private document and was not known to the warriors.70 We also must not forget that bushidō with its connotation of an almost religion-​like spirituality was formulated in the late 19th century.71 Moreover, the trend was established by an English text on the samurai, The Bushidō by Nitobe Inazō.72 Certainly, the Akō vendetta in history caused hot controversy among Confucianist intellectuals about the legitimacy of the act as well the samurai way.73 It was Muro Kyūsō (1658–​1734), a renowned scholar and advisor to three successive shoguns including Yoshimune, who first praised the ex-​ retainers from Akō as “righteous samurai” (gishi) in 1703. As noted, his view was incorporated into popular narratives in the style of The Taiheiki. However, it was only in the later period (around the “opening” of Japan) that the loyalty of the Akō rōnin was linked, or merged, with the image of The Taiheiki’s loyal Kusunoki Masashige; in other words, it was tied to a faithfulness to a more universal being –​the Emperor.74 In other words, the original Chūshingura was evidently alien from such ideological loyalty. The audience could see and enjoy the play, with as much tears as laughter, through indifferent eyes because it was a piece for the commoners, by the commoners, and of the commoners.

Notes 1 For a comprehensive study of the Akō Incident in English, see John A. Tucker (2018). See also Bodart-​Bailey (2007, Chapter 12). 2 See the list by Tsuchida Mamoru (1985, pp. 400–​402). 3 Miyazawa Seiichi (1999, pp. 21–​25). 4 These eight are as follows: Ōboshi Yuranosuke (the hero), his son Rikiya, Senzaki Yagorō and Hara Gō’emon (high-​ranking samurai), Hayano Kanpei and Teraoka Hei’emon (casually employed samurai), and Ono Kudayū and his son Sadakurō (traitors). Sadakurō, however, is not fashioned after a historical figure; he appears only in the drama. 5 Among the 47 ex-​retainers, as we shall see later, the one missing in the play is considered to have been Hayano Kampei, who kills himself before the revenge. In history too, one left the band for an unknown reason. Besides, different from the

140  The Treasury of Loyal Retainers movie and TV versions, present bunraku and kabuki stages do not represent the revenge scene. 6 Watanabe Tamotsu (1985, p. 239). See also Tucker (2018, p. 220). 7 Miyazawa (2001, pp. 55–​108). For an English account of the historical development of the Chūshingura narratives, see also Henry D. Smith II (2008, pp. 190–​194). 8 Mayama Seika (1982, Vol. 1, p. 84). 9 Keene (1982, p. 16). 10 Maruya Saiichi (1984). 11 Maruya (1985a, 1985b). Suwa (1985a, 1985b). For an abstract of the dispute in English, see Smith II (2008). 12 Matsui (2016, p. 66). 13 Algernon Betram Freeman-Mitford (2015). 14 Frederick Victor Dickens (1875). 15 Aaron M. Cohen (2008). 16 John Masefield (1916). 17 Cohen (2008, p. 169). 18 Gordon Williams (2003, p. 241). 19 Nakajima Giichi (1962). 20 As we shall see later, this was because the feudal lord was required to hire a fixed number of warriors in preparation for warfare, according to their revenue (rice yield). 21 As for the stipend of the 47 ex-​retainers who participated in the vendetta, see the list made by Tucker. Tucker (2018, pp. 85–​88). 22 Daimyō meant feudal lords with a rice output of more than 10,000 koku. 23 Tucker translated the phrase as “Do you recall my recent grudge?” (Tucker 2018, p. 42), while Bodart-​Bailey translated it as “Did you forget my recent grievance?” Bodart-​Bailey (2007, p. 164). 24 In the Edo period, revenge could be legitimate upon fulfilling certain conditions: (1) revenge based on filial piety or loyalty (e.g., revenge for a father or lord) and (2)  acquiring advance permission from the authorities. In the case of the Akō rōnin, they lacked the second requirement. 25 For the Kyōhō Reforms, see Tsuji (1958, 1963, and 1991) and Ōishi Manabu (2001). 26 Tsuji (1963, p. 267) and Conrad Totman (1993, p. 307). 27 Tsuji (1958, pp. 131–​134). 28 CW 9, pp. 519–​523. 29 M. Ōishi (2001, pp. 290–​320). 30 A fudai daimyō was a feudal lord who originated from a direct vassal of the Tokugawa 31 Hayami (2003, p. 161). 32 Yamaga Sokō (1970, p. 31). For an English abstract of Sokō’s thoughts about the samurai, see “The Way of the Samurai” by Tucker (2006). 33 Asahi Shigeaki (1995). 34 See, for example, Takei Kyōzō (2000). 35 Konta Yōzō (2007) (first published in 1981), p. 113 and Shively (1982, p. 23). 36 Konta (2007, p. 112); Shively (1982, p. 35). 37 For the problem regarding the first dramatization of the Akō Incident, see Akama Ryō (1991). For a classical study about its dramatization before Chūshingura, see Yūda Yoshio (1975, p. 359). See also the list made by Tsuchida. Tsuchida (1985,

The Treasury of Loyal Retainers  141 pp. 400–​402). For an English account of the prehistory of Chūshingura, see Shively (1982, p. 25). 38 To be more precise, Chikamatsu had alluded to the vendetta as early as 1703 in a kabuki play titled Keisei mitsuguruma in Kyoto. Konta (2007, p. 113). 39 CZ 6. The original title of the former is Kenkō hōshi monomiguruma. The latter is considered a sequel of the former. For a synopsis of the two plays, see Keene (1971, pp. 6–​9). See also Shively (1982, pp. 36–​38). For an English translation of the latter, see Jacqueline Mueller (1986). 40 Interestingly, some ex-​retainers in history have compared their deed to that of the loyal Kusunoki Masahige in The Taiheiki. As is discussed in the previous chapter, this indicates that this war chronicle constituted the people’s worldview. See Miyazawa (1999, pp. 65, 106). 41 Anecdotes include, for instance, a story about a rōnin who suffers from a lack of money and sells his wife as well as a story about the chief retainer feigning amusement in the pleasure quarters to hide his true intentions. 42 Kino Kaion (1977, pp. 111–​151). For an English synopsis of the play, see Shively (1982, p. 39). 43 Fujino Yoshio (1974, Vol. 1, p. 56). 44 Namiki Sōsuke, Ogawa Jōsuke and Yasuda Abun (1991). The English title is Keene’s (1971, p. 7). 45 The English title is James R. Brandon’s (1982, p. 120). 46 Yoshida Bunzaburō (puppeteer) and Takemoto Konotayū (chanter). See Fujino (1974, p. 23). 47 Shively (1982, p. 43). 48 The English title is from OC. In HD, Summer Festival: Mirror of Osaka. 49 For a detailed discussion about the playwrights’ assignments, see Uchiyama (1989, p. 394). 50 It must be repeated that in present bunraku and kabuki direction, Part 11 is not staged as a whole. 51 This dramatic situation gave birth to the popular idiom: “Has Yuranosuke not arrived yet?” referring to a person who is late to arrive. 52 As noted earlier, present direction of the play does not include Moronao in the final part. 53 Keene (1971, p. 98) and Takeda Izumo II et al. (1985, p. 227). 54 Iwai (1998, p. 92). 55 Keene (1971, p. 109); Takeda Izumo II et al. (1985, p. 239). 56 Hashimoto (2012, p. 20). 57 In Keene’s translation, the passage is indicated “untranslatable” with some explanatory notes. Keene (1971, p. 51); Takeda Izumo II et al. (1985, p. 177). 58 Keene (1971, p. 159); Takeda Izumo II et al. (1985, p. 290). In the original text, however, the word “honest” does not appear. 59 Seki Yōko (1999, p. 301). 60 Keene (1971, p. 135); Takeda Izumo II et al. (1985, p. 266). 61 Robert Bellah (1957, p. 158); Ishida Baigan (1956, pp. 82–​83). 62 Ishida Baigan (1956, p. 28). 63 Uchiyama (1989, p. 397). 64 Brandon (1982, p. 111). 65 For a detailed comparison between kabuki and bunraku directions, see Fujino (1974, Vols. 1–​3).

142  The Treasury of Loyal Retainers 66 See, for example, Seki Yōko (1999). 67 Iwai (1998, p. 92). 68 Lorenzaccio is the hero of Alfred de Musset’s revenge play (1834) with the same title. 69 Hayami (2003, p. 160). Jansen, on the other hand, puts the percentage of samurai at 5% or 6% in the mid-​19th century, adding that “in prerevolutionary France, for instance, the clergy and nobility combined numbered 0.5 to 0.6% of the population.” See Jansen (2000, p. 105). 70 Hagakure was first (partially) published as late as 1906. Before that year, its presence was only known within the Saga domain (Koike Yoshiaki, 1999, p. 43). 71 For the birth of the notion of (modern) bushidō, see Saeki (2004, p. 245). See also Benesch (2014, Chapter 1). 72 Nitobe Inazō (2009). 73 Miyazawa (1999, pp. 215–​225). For an English abstract on the debate about the righteousness of the Akō rōnin, see Tucker (2018, Chapters 5 and 6), and Bodart-​ Bailey (2007, p. 169). 74 As a matter of fact, as Miyazawa points out, enthusiasm over the righteous rōnin outside the theatre and fiction came after the crisis of the country in the mid-​19th century. Miyazawa (2001, pp. 19–​22).

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The Treasury of Loyal Retainers  143 Hashimoto Osamu. 2012. Jōruri wo yomou [Let’s Read Bunraku Pieces]. Tokyo: Shinchōsha. Hayami Akira. 2003. Kinsei nihon-​no keizaishakai [The Economic Society of Early Modern Japan]. Chiba: Reitaku University Press. Ishida Baigan. 1956. “Tohimondō [Dialogue Between Townsmen and Rural People].” In Ishida Baigan zenshū [Complete Works of Ishida Baigan], Vol. 1, edited by Shibata Minoru.. Osaka: Seibundō shuppan. Iwai Masami. 1998. “Shintai eno shiten [A View on Corporality].” In Kabuki no shintairon [Corporality of Kabuki] Iwanami koza Kabuki Bunraku [Iwanami Lectures on Kabuki and Bunraku], Vol 5. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. Jansen, Marius B. 2000. The Making of Modern Japan. Cambridge: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press. Keene, Donald, trans. & annot. 1971. Chūshingura [The Treasury of Loyal Retainers]. New York: Columbia University Press. —​—​—​. 1982. “Variation on a Theme: Chūshingura.” In Chūshingura: Studies in Kabuki and the Puppet Theatre: 1–​21, edited by James R. Brandon. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press. Kino Kaion. 1977. “Onikage musashi abumi.” In Kino Kaion Zenshu [The Complete Works of Kino Kaion], Vol. 1, edited by Kaion kenkyūkai [Study Group on Kaion]. Osaka: Seibundō Shuppan. Koike Yoshiaki. 1999. Hagakure: bushi to hōkō [Hagakure: Warriors and Their Service]. Tokyo: Kōdansha. Konta Yōzō. 2007. Edo no kinsho [Forbidden Books in the Edo Period]. Tokyo: Yoshikawa kōbunkan. (First published in 1981.) Leiter, Samuel L. 1997. New Kabuki Encyclopedia. A  Revised Adaptation of Kabuki Jiten. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press. Maruya Saiichi. 1984. Chūshingura towa nanika [What Is Chūshingura?]. Tokyo: Kōdansha. —​—​—​. 1985a. “Okaru to Kampei no tameni [For the Sake of Okaru and Kampei].” Gunzō, May 1985: 198–​216. Tokyo: Kōdansha. —​—​—​. 1985b. “Bungaku no kenkyū towa nanika [What Is Literary Study?].” Gunzō, July 1985: 194–​202. Tokyo: Kōdansha. Masefield, John. 1915. The Faithful: A Tragedy in Three Acts. London: W. Heinemann. Available        as       e-​text:      https://​archive.org/​details/​faithfulatraged00masegoog/​ page/​n7. Matsui Kesako. 2016. Kabuki. A  Mirror of Japan:  Ten Plays That Offer a Glimpse into Evolving Sensibilities. Translated by David Crandall. Tokyo: Japan Publishing Industry Foundation for Culture (JPIC). Mayama Seika. 1982. Genroku Chūshingura. 2 vols. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. Miyazawa Seiichi. 1999. Akō rōshi: Tsumugidasareru Chūshingura [The Ex-​Retainers of Akō: The Fabrication of Chūshingura]. Tokyo: Saiseidō. —​—​—​. 2001. Kindai nihon to Chūshingura gensō [Modern Japan and the Chūshingura Illusion]. Tokyo: Aoki shoten. Mueller, Jacqueline, trans. & annot. 1986. “A Chronicle of Great Peace Played Out on a Chessboard: Chikamatsu Monzaemon’s Goban Taiheiki.” Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies 46, no. 1: 221–​267. Nakajima Giichi. 1962. “Ichimangoku ijō no jōkamachi [Castle Towns Based on More than Ten Thousand Koku Outputs].” Shinchiri 10, no. 2 (1962–​1963). Available as e-​text: https://​doi.org/​10.5996/​newgeo.10.2_​1.

144  The Treasury of Loyal Retainers Namiki Sōsuke, Ogawa Jōsuke and Yasuda Abun. 1991. “Chūsin kogane no tanzaku [A Golden Poem Card].” Annotated by Hirata Sumiko. In Toyotake-​za Jōruri-​shū [Collection of Bunraku Plays from the Toyotake-​za], Vol. 1:  319–​394. Tokyo: Kokusho kankōkai. Nitobe, Inazō. 1935. Bushido:  The Soul of Japan. Tokyo:  Kenkyūsha . (Originally published in 1900.) Ōishi Manabu. 2001. Yoshimune to Kyōhō no kaikaku [Yoshimune and the Kyōhō Reforms]. Tokyo: Tokyodō shuppan. Saeki Shin’ichi. 2004. Senjō no seishin-​shi: bushidō toiu gen’ei [A Spiritual History of the Battlefield: A Fantasy Called Bushidō]. Tokyo: NHK shuppan. Seki Yōko. 1999. Geizukushi Chūshingura [Kabuki Actors’ Complete Interpretation of Chūshingura]. Tokyo: Bungeishujū. Shively, Donald H. 1982. “Tokugawa Plays on Forbidden Topics.” In Chūshingura. Studies in Kabuki and the Puppet Theatre:  23–​57, edited by James R. Brandon. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press. Smith II, Henry D. 2008. “Chūshingura in the 1980s:  Rethinking the Story of the Forty-​Seven Rōnin.” In Revenge Drama in European Renaissance and Japanese Theatre: 187–​212, edited by Kevin J. Wetmore, Jr. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Suwa Haruo. 1985a. “Goryō shinkō to hōgan bi’iki: Maruya Saiichi shi ‘Chūshingura towa nanika’eno gimon [Faith in the Revengeful Spirit and Preference for Losers: Questions About Mr. Maruya Saiichi’s ‘What is Chūshingura?’].” Shingeki, March 1985: 69–​87. —​—​—​. 1985b. Chūshingura no tameni:  Maruya Saiichi shi ni tou [For the Sake of Chūshingura: Inquiry to Mr. Maruya Saiichi]. Gunzō, June 1985: 304–​320. Takeda Izumo II, Namiki Senryū, and Miyoshi Shōraku. 1985. “Kanadehon Chūshingura [The Treasury of Loyal Retainers].” Annotated by Tsuchida Mamoru. In Jōruri-​shū [Bunraku Plays]: 151–​313. Shinchō Nihon Koten Shūsei [Shinchō Collection of Japanese Classic Literature]. Tokyo: Shinchōsha. Takei Kyōzō. 2000. Wakashū kabuki, yarō kabuki no kenkyū [A Study of Boy Kabuki and Male Kabuki]. Tokyo: Yagi shoten. Totman, Conrad. 1993. Early Modern Japan. Berkeley: University of California Press. Tsuchida Mamoru. 1985. “Kaisetsu [Play Annotations].” In Jōruri-​shū [Bunraku Plays]. Shinchō Nihon Koten Shūsei [Shinchō Collection of Japanese Classic Literature]: 393–​402. Tokyo: Shinchōsha. Tsuji Tatsuya. 1958. Tokugawa Yoshimune. Tokyo: Yoshikawa kōbunkan. —​—​—​. 1963. Kyōhō no kaikaku no kenkyū [A Study of the Kyōhō Reforms]. Tokyo: Sōbunsha. —​—​—. 1991. “Politics in the Eighteenth Century.” In The Cambridge History of Japan, Vol.  4: 425–​477. Translated by Harold Bolitho. Cambridge:  Cambridge University Press. Tucker, John A. trans. 2006. “The Way of the Samurai.” In Sources of Japanese Tradition, Second Edition, Vol. 2, Part 1: 165–​167, compiled by Wm. Theodore de Bary, Carol Gluck, and Arthur E. Tiedemann. New York: Columbia University Press. —​—​—​. 2018. The Forty-​Seven Rōnin: The Vendetta in History. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Uchiyama Mikiko. 1989. Jōrurishi no jūhasseiki [The 18th Century in the History of Bunraku]. Tokyo: Bensei shuppan. Watanabe Tamotsu. 1985. Chūshingura:  mou hitotsu no rekishi kankaku [Chūshingura: An Alternative Sense of History]. Tokyo: Chūōkōronsha.

The Treasury of Loyal Retainers  145 Williams, Gordon. 2003. British Theatre in the Great War. A Revaluation. London and New York: Continuum. Yamaga Sokō. 1970 “Yamaga gorui [The Sayings of Yamaga]” Vol. 21:  29–​171. Annotated by Tsuguo Tahara and Jun’ichirō Morimoto. In Nihon shisō taikei [Collection of Philosophical Thoughts in Japan], Vol. 32. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. Yūda Yoshio. 1975. “Kanadehon Chūshingura seiritsushi [A History of Chūshingura’s Compilation].” In Jōrurishi ronkō [A Study of Bunraku History]:  359–​370. Tokyo: Chūōkōronsha.

7  The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province The Osaka people are indomitable!

The Genji Vanguard and its sequel were plays that aimed to theatrically outwit the authorities. The house of the Toyotomi, the rulers that preceded the Tokugawa, had founded modern Osaka, and were thus popular among Osaka citizens. While topics on the Toyotomi were (officially) forbidden in the Edo period, they were repeatedly dramatized with dense camouflage to evade censorship. Through these two plays, we examine the portraits of warriors who have voluntarily joined the defense of the Toyotomi.

The house of Toyotomi Like A Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman, The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province (Ōmi Genji senjin yakata, 1769)1 is known to contemporary kabuki and bunraku audiences for its partial representations of only certain parts. Moritsuna’s Camp, which forms the eighth part of the nine-​part composition, remains in its repertoire. The part features the confrontation between two brothers fighting on opposing sides, involving their mother and children. The dramatic conflict reminds us somewhat of Horace by Corneille, a comparison that will be detailed later. Much like Corneille’s play is closely related to the formation of the monarch’s absolute power in 17th century France, understanding the bunraku play as a whole also necessitates knowledge on the house of Toyotomi which, as we have indicated in the preceding chapters, ruled Japan before the Tokugawa regime. Toyotomi Hideyoshi (1537–​1598) is generally considered by the Japanese as the incarnation of a success story, because he climbed from the bottom of society up to the top all on his own. Coming from a peasant origin, Hideyoshi passed the days of his youth as a vagabond and then had the opportunity to serve the rising territorial lord Oda Nobunaga (1534–​1582). Nobunaga almost ended the Age of Warring States, which had continued on from the late 15th century, by conquering central parts of the country. Nobunaga’s most powerful weapon was his management of retainers based on their merits instead of pedigree, which defied the views of conservative medieval society. Thanks to his rationalism, Hideyoshi was rapidly promoted from a lower servant to the most influential general in a couple of decades. When Nobunaga

The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province  147 and his son were killed in 1582 by a rebellion staged by another one of his generals, Akechi Mitsuhide, Hideyoshi avenged his lord and succeeded in taking over Nobunaga’s legacy, defeating his rivals one after another. In 1586, he was nominated as kanpaku (Imperial Regent) by the Emperor and established himself as Nobunaga’s legitimate successor. However, he was of such vulgar origin that he could not be connected to any noble or warrior lineage dating from the olden days (and the link was necessary to establish a high courtly rank). The court therefore invented a new family name and endowed it to Hideyoshi:  Toyotomi, which means bountiful subject of the Emperor, suggesting that the status had been gained through monetary power. In fact, Hideyoshi was the richest person in the country due to the remarkable growth of gold and silver production in Japan. Hideyoshi was based in Osaka from 1583. There, he not only constructed a castle, but also set the layout of the entire commercial zone. Considering his contributions to the development of the city, he could be considered the founder of early modern Osaka. After the death of Hideyoshi in 1598, a political strife began among feudal lords who had been subject to the late ruler. They were divided into two camps, one of which was led by Tokugawa Ieyasu (1543–​1616), who had controlled the largest domain under the Toyotomi regime. Ieyasu won the decisive battle at Sekigahara in 1600. In 1603 he was appointed shogun, and he inaugurated the government in Edo. Ieyasu abdicated his position in two years and conceded it to his son Hidetada (1579–​ 1632), to demonstrate that the shogunate was not a temporary institution. Toyotomi Hideyoshi’s heir, Hideyori (1593–​1615), who was left in Osaka, was 12 years old and held a high rank in the court when Edo celebrated its second shogun. The relationship between the Toyotomi and the Tokugawa was precarious because the former never paid court to the shogun, as if the boy still held the ruling rights to the country. The Tokugawa, however, tolerated this lack of respect because of the remaining influential feudal lords suspected of covert loyalty to the Toyotomi. At the same time, to evade a possible collision of the two sides, a marriage of convenience was realized between Hideyori and Sen-​ hime (Princess Sen), the daughter of the Shogun Hidetada, in 1607. The bride was then only seven years old. Ieyasu, who was a man of patience, waited until the time was ripe for action. This was in 1614, when the Tokugawa’s provocation drove the Toyotomi to challenge the Edo government, and the second shogun as well as Ieyasu convened the feudal lords and their army to siege the castle of Osaka. Prior to this campaign, Ieyasu sent an ultimatum to the Toyotomi, requesting Hideyori to leave the castle of Osaka and move to a territory assigned by the shogun, while his mother (Lady Yodo, the most beloved concubine of Hideyoshi) was to be held hostage in Edo. The Toyotomi refused. Osaka appealed to rōnin (jobless samurai) as well as ex-​lords, who had lost their territory in the battle that took place 14 years ago, and their number is said to have reached about 100,000.

148  The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province Although it outnumbered the enemy, the Tokugawa force put up a poor fight against the solid defense of Osaka castle. This was why, after the Winter Campaign in 1614, Ieyasu proposed an armistice, which the Toyotomi accepted. Ieyasu then ordered his men to promptly destroy the Toyotomi’s outer defense line surrounding the castle, ignoring their agreement. Following the Tokugawa’s defiance, the battle resumed as the Summer Campaign in 1615. Hideyori and his mother killed themselves and the Toyotomi were annihilated. Sen-​hime, the wife of Hideyori and granddaughter of Ieyasu, was miraculously saved. From then on, warfare disappeared in Japan for two and a half centuries, except for the great rebellion of the Japanese Christians in 1637 and the farmers’ uprisings during the Edo period. On the ruins of Osaka castle, the Tokugawa reconstructed a bigger and more splendid castle, as if to eradicate the memory of the Toyotomi. In April 1616, William Shakespeare died in Stratford-​upon-​Avon at the age of 52. Two months later, Ieyasu aged 75 and satisfied with the stability of the Tokugawa regime, was found deceased on the other side of the globe. Today, Ieyasu is often considered as a cunning old man due to his political maneuver against the Toyotomi. As we will see, however, this was a stereotype developed in the latter-​day popular imagination. Seen from a different angle, Ieyasu could be said to have realized a peaceful society that enabled high economic growth throughout the 17th century. Hideyoshi, on the other hand, was by no means a benevolent ruler to his contemporaries. It was he

Figure 7.1 Siege of Osaka. Osaka Municipal Library.

The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province  149 who set the path to the early modern hierarchical society, which, as we have seen in Chapter 3, brought about institutionalized social discrimination. His invasions of Korea in 1592 and 1597 were great disasters not only for the Korean and Chinese, but also for mobilized Japanese soldiers and military porters.2 As Marius B. Jansen remarks, “the Taikō’s [Hideyoshi’s]3 behavior in his last years was increasingly irrational, however, and his megalomania grew steadily.”4 Notwithstanding, Hideyoshi has enjoyed much greater popularity than Ieyasu in posterity. And this bias was bought about by the interaction of popular narratives and bunraku under the Tokugawa regime –​especially in Osaka.

The Toyotomi in bunraku The rise and fall of the Toyotomi was recorded in various war chronicles (gunkimono) in the early 17th century, and the life of Hideyoshi was narrated in various versions of the Taikōki (A Chronicle of the Taikō), which consisted of anecdotes, hearsay, and memories about the parties concerned.5 Although praise of the former ruler was a political taboo in the Tokugawa period, to the townspeople of Osaka, Hideyoshi was undeniably the great benefactor to the city’s prosperity, and over time, an imaginary figure of the Taikō was gradually formed in popular culture. It was Chikamatsu who first dramatized the life of Hideyoshi with much imagination, free from historic details. A Japanese Version of the History of Three Kingdoms (Honchō sangoku-​shi)6 in 1719 follows the well-​known story of how Nobunaga and his son were killed by the rebellious general Mitsuhide and tells how Hideyoshi eventually became the most influential person in the country. Much like Chūshingura, direct reference to the Toyotomi and the people concerned was impossible due to censorship. Thus, Hideyoshi is renamed Hisayoshi in the play, and his lord Nobunaga, Harunaga. Chikamatsu portrays Hisayoshi as a meritorious general who avenges Harunaga and his son. But his ambition is curbed by his faithfulness, for Harunaga has a legitimate heir, a baby left by his son. As long as Hisayoshi remains loyal to the ex-​lord, he is incapable of becoming the nation’s ruler. Then, as if to provide a means of escaping his dilemma, one of his vassals proposes the conquering of Korea. After the campaign, the narration tells us that Hisayoshi returns in triumph to Kyoto, bringing ears cut off from enemy soldiers as a sign of victory. He buries them in commemoration and constructs a huge statue of Buddha to pray for the souls of Harunaga and his son. Finally, a puppet play within a puppet play –​like the one we saw in Part 4 of The Battles of Coxinga –​representing the conquest of Korea, is inserted as an interlude both for Hisayoshi and his followers as well as the audience. As the unifier of Japan, Hisayoshi is thus congratulated for his achievement in a foreign campaign.

150  The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province In the play, the issue of how Hisayoshi’s power is legitimized remains uncertain. In history, as a matter of fact, he had usurped Nobunaga’s power in the same right as Ieyasu, who would follow him in later years. As it seems, even Chikamatsu could not compromise the contradiction between Hisayoshi (Hideyoshi) as a realistic politician in history and as an idealized, tactful, and honest warrior in fiction. While the play focuses on the remarkable stages of Hisayoshi’s life as seen through the romantic imagination, it should be noted that his (imaginary) victory in Korea is used as justification for Hisayoshi becoming a man of power. Takeda Izumo I, author of A Courtly Mirror, treats Hideyoshi in A Story of Rising Young Tigers (Shusse yakko osana monogatari) in 1725.7 This play tells of the encounter between young Hideyoshi and Nobunaga (their names were only changed in Chinese ideograms for this play and were read in the same way as the real names), and the latter’s distinguishments as a warring lord gained through his strategic marriage to the daughter of a neighboring territorial lord. In the play, Hideyoshi is not yet an influential general, and the legitimacy of him succeeding Nobunaga’s power is not questioned. Namiki Sōsuke, Miyoshi Shōraku, and Takeda Izumo II, the trio who worked on Yoshitsune and Chūshingura, on the other hand, reintroduced Hideyoshi in connection to the conquest of Korea in A Military Story Told on a Pillow of a Courtesan (Keisei makura gundan) in 1747, again under the name Hisayoshi.8 This play treats a rebellion plotted by a mysterious servant of one of Hisayoshi’s vassals. While the lord is absent for his campaign in Korea, this man, Nanakusa Shirō, steals a magical sword left by Hisayoshi. As the play unfolds, he is revealed to be secretly protecting Prince Nobumaru, the grandson of the defunct Nobunaga, to restore the prince to his rightful place as ruler, using the power of the sword. The play features the struggle for the “Excalibur” between the rebels and loyal retainers, as well as the scenes of Shimabara’s pleasure quarter,9 where Shirō’s wife is disguised as a high courtesan. Finally, Hisayoshi returns triumphantly from Korea and confronts Shirō (who is now renamed Kanzaemon). While the latter rebukes the former for having usurped the late Nobunaga’s position, Hisayoshi shows clemency to Nobumaru and imprisons Kanzaemon (Hisayoshi does not, however, seem to concede his place as ruler to Nobumaru). This play was made after Chikamatsu’s two plays: Courtesans in Shimabara and the Battle of Frogs, which we introduced in the first chapter, and A Japanese Version of the History of Three Kingdoms mentioned above, both staged in 1719. Consequently, it combines the enigmatic rebel Nanakusa Shirō, reminiscent of Amakusa Shirō who symbolized the great rebellion of Japanese Christians in 1637, with the feat of Hisayoshi in his foreign campaign. However, compared to Courtesans in Shimabara, interest in the heresy recedes to the background, and the play focuses on the trouble in the lord’s household. The stage, which was first produced after the death of Takeda Izumo I, was reported to have been a failure due to the the internl trouble in the theatre company.10

The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province  151 The fall of Osaka Castle, on the other hand, was a far more sensitive issue for the authorities than stories about Hideyoshi, as it was unmistakably evident that they had forcibly destroyed the Toyotomi. War chronicles of the siege, however, were published just after the completion of the two campaigns respectively, under the title of The Tales of Osaka (Osaka monogatari).11 They were obviously propaganda to justify the Tokugawa’s victory. While the volumes enjoyed popularity, no further document about the fall of the castle was published throughout the Edo period. As a matter of fact, the Osaka siege became a collective memory through jitsuroku (factual records) under the Tokugawa regime. Jitsuroku is, as mentioned in the previous chapter, a purported record of facts mixed with uncertain information and free interpretations of historic events, in addition to the authors’ pure imagination. Jitsuroku spread among people by way of handwritten copies. They were commonly found in (rental) bookshops in cities like Osaka, and people could access jitsuroku through book rentals.12 As the eyes of the authorities reached only as far as published books, there were two distinct media for the people:  published books under censorship and handwritten copies underground. It should also be noted that jitsuroku provided material for kōshakushi (histrionic narrators). The first jitsuroku treating the fall of Osaka Castle was A Chronicle of Namba (Namba senki: Namba is an alias of Osaka),13 which was supposedly compiled before 1672.14 Although A Chronicle of Namba is marked with a pro-​Tokugawa stance, there was already a tendency to dramatize certain figures as heroes, in defiance of historic facts. Sanada Yukimura (around 1570–​1615), for example, was an Osaka general, famous for his brave and desperate attack on Ieyasu in the Summer Campaign of 1615. In A Chronicle, he is described as a gifted strategist who had a brilliant military career before he lost his status as lord in the battle at Sekigahara in 1600. Historians consider this description quite doubtful. Kimura Shigenari (around 1593–​1615), who is now known for the dignified manner by which he negotiated armistice with Ieyasu, was originally one of the warriors fighting for Osaka. His image as a young and handsome warrior was formed in the world of jitsuroku that started from A Chronicle. It is significant in this context that Kino Kaion, Chikamatsu’s rival at the Toyotake-​za theatre, not only dramatized the Osaka siege in bunraku but also that his text was published as Yoshitsune’s Residence of Shintakatachi (Yoshitsune shintakatachi) and staged in 1719.15 The author meticulously substituted the conflict between the Toyotomi and the Tokugawa for the discord between Yoshitsune and his elder brother Yoritomo, as can be found in Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees. As a result, Osaka Castle is referred to as the castle of Hiraizumi in the northern part of Japan where Yoshitsune was historically protected by a regional powerful family. Major players of the Tokugawa are replaced by Yoritomo and his vassals. Under this camouflage, however, the audience could see the principal events that happened between the two sides: Yoritomo

152  The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province (Ieyasu) summoning Hiraizumi (Osaka) delegates and issuing an ultimatum requesting Yoshitsune (Hideyori) to leave the castle and keep the lady (Lady Yodo) hostage, the subsequent breakdown of negotiations, the invitation of renowned strategist Tadahira (Sanada Yukimura) to Hiraizumi (Osaka), the opening of hostilities and their suspension by temporary peace, and the final battle leading to the fall of the castle. Kaion’s play contains the basic plot about the fall of Osaka, but its major defect is, a rather rough composition apart, that he located the conflict in the northern part of the country, in lieu of the opposition between the east (Edo) and the west (Osaka). In 1735, also at the Toyotake-​ za, another play alluding to the battle between the Toyotomi and the Tokugawa, Gotō’s Sword Hilt Made of Southern Barbarian Iron (Nanbantetsu Gotō no menuki), was staged.16 This time production was forbidden by the authorities and publication of the text was suspended. Today, a dozen handwritten copies of the original text remain.17 Authorship of this play is attributed to Namiki Sōsuke.18 In the play, the conflict is compared to the troubles of Ashikaga Takauji, the founder of the Ashikaga shogunate and follower of the northern court. Nitta Yoshioki, who opposed Takauji, supports the southern court. Takauji represents Ieyasu, while Yoshioki represents Hideyori. According to Uchiyama, one possible reason that the play was banned was because in the play, the Nitta is identified with the Toyotomi. The Tokugawa “officially” considered themselves as the descendants of the Nitta,19 and the authorities possibly found the author’s irony in combining the Nitta with the loser disrespectful.20 One of the main characters in Kaion’s preceding play is the loyal Sanada Yukimura (although he is renamed Tadahira for fear of censorship). Tadahira is obliged to sacrifice his son Daisuke in return for a service provided by Yoritomo (i.e., Ieyasu). Meanwhile, Gotō’s Sword Hilt features another popular hero from the defense of Osaka, Gotō Matabei (1560–​1615; he is called Gotō Mataji in the play). The playwright describes Mataji as a skilled sword hilt artisan and a heavy drinker, who is in reality a strategy expert. He is invited to serve Yoshioki (Toyotomi Hideyori), but at the same time, his son Daisaburō brings him another offer from Takauji (Tokugawa Ieyasu). Because Mataji refuses his son’s proposal, Daisaburō must report back to Takauji with his failure, thus separating father and son into opposing camps. The play’s main interest lies in the hardships faced by Mataji’s family during the battle. His wife Sekijo, hearing that their son has been killed by Takauji, shoots him with a gun (this scene too, presumably provoked authorities as it implied a snipe at Ieyasu through association with a gun made of “southern barbarian” (alien) iron). Sekijo, then caught by the enemy, is tortured by the hands of her son, who is alive but does not know who she is. The play ends with a final battle in which, different from history, both Takauji (Ieyasu) and Yoshioki (Hideyori) are made captive and the opposing parties ceasefire. This finale also may have been insulting for the Tokugawa since, in reality, they were the ones that won the siege.

The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province  153 Although the production of Gotō’s Sword Hilt was suppressed in 1735, repeated attempts were made to stage it, using changed titles to elude censorship as well as partial (or significant) modifications to its contents. These variants, shifting the story world (sekai) from the age of Takauji to that of Yoritomo, were produced in 1744 (in Edo), 1754 (in Osaka), 1757 (in Edo), 1764 (in Osaka), and 1770 (in Osaka).21 Because there was no definite criterion for the authorities’ interventions, as Uchiyama explains, bunraku people may have first probed reactions to the play in Edo (as sensitivity to the representation of the Osaka siege was thought less acute in Edo than Osaka) and taken the production back to Osaka, claiming that the play had “passed” in Edo, meanwhile restoring the original text little by little.22 These versions finally converged in a play called Yoshitsune’s Letter at Koshigoe (Yoshitsune Koshigoejō), the contents of which were almost identical with Gotō’s Sword Hilt, except for the story world (the opposition is set between Yoshitsune and Yoritomo). The play was published in the 1770s and a part of it remains in kabuki repertoire as the comedic act of Gotō Sanbasō in which Gotobei (alias of Gotō Matabei in the play) gets drunk.

Two plays about the Osaka siege Much like Chūshingura is the compilation of preceding plays about the 47 rōnin’s vendetta, The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province marks the completion of existing trials to dramatize the siege of Osaka. To be more precise, the play treats only the first half of the battle (the Winter Campaign), so we must also take note of another play that is generally considered as its sequel, A Chronicle of the Three Generations of Kamakura (Kamakura sandai-​ki),23dealing with the fall of the castle (the Summer Campaign). Different from The Genji Vanguard produced at the Takemoto-za in Osaka in 1769, The Three Generations premiered in Edo in 1781. Tsurumi Makoto has found the same tactics used in The Three Generations as Gotō’s Sword Hilt.24 As a matter of fact, The Three Generations was an adaptation of a foregoing work that had been banned by the authorities. This precedent work, Decorations for a Helmet for Great Peace (Taihei kabuto no kazari), was staged at the Takemoto-​za in 1770 and was shut down within a month after its premiere. So its succeeding stage in Edo in 1781 was possibly a probe for reviving the 1770 play in Osaka. As no copy of Decorations for a Helmet exists today,25 it is impossible to read the original text. Tsurumi proposes, however, to look at another bunraku text, Flower Decorations of the Three Generations (Hanakazaru sandai-​ki), which was supposedly published as a bunraku text for reading around the same period as Decorations for a Helmet.26 According to Tsurumi, this text was likely a transcription of the lost bunraku play. While researchers do not completely agree on this point,27 we believe it safe to assume that the text of A Chronicle of the Three Generations of Kamakura annotated by Tsurumi,

154  The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province which is based on Flower Decorations, reflects the original stage fairly well.28 We shall therefore follow Tsurumi’s version to analyze the play below. The story world of both The Genji Vanguard and The Three Generations is set in the Kamakura period. Different from Kaion’s play in which Yoshitsune is opposed to Yoritomo, the conflict is found between the two sons of Yoritomo, Minamoto no Sanetomo and Minamoto no Yori’ie. While Sanetomo has been inaugurated as shogun in Kamakura (i.e., Edo),29 Yori’ie is considered unqualified even though he is the eldest son, apparently due to the reason that he was born from a concubine (this is historically not true). Hence he is obliged to live in the castle of Sakamoto (i.e., Osaka: to be precise, it is located on the west coast of Lake Biwa in the Ōmi Province, near Kyoto). In the drama, the disparity between the brothers has been brought about by the conspiracy of the evil Hōjō Tokimasa, Sanetomo’s maternal grandfather, who has been presiding over the Kamakura government since the death of Yoritomo. With this concept, the authors (the play is the product of a multiauthorship)30 could avoid direct irreverence to the shogun by camouflaging the villain (Ieyasu) as Tokimasa. The two plays feature famous warriors from Osaka such as Sanada Yukimura (around 1570–​ 1615), Gotō Matabei (1560–​ 1615), and Kimura Shigenari (around 1593–​1615), however, they all have stereotyped characters developed through the popular imagination in jitsuroku and bunraku. At the same time, they are renamed as warriors in the Kamakura period following the story world. Consequently, Sanada Yukimura, who is narrated in fanciful jitsuroku as a resourceful strategist who manipulated his look-​alikes to deceive the eyes of Ieyasu in the battlefield, becomes Sasaki Takatsuna. Gotō Matabei, the drunken rōnin from the preceding bunraku play (Gotō’s Sword Hilt), is further exaggerated as a daring warrior renamed Wada “Shitobei” Hyōe (Shitobei means 20-​gallon-​sake-​gulping-​John) and Kimura Shigenari is, as aforementioned, described as a handsome young samurai named Miura-​no-​suke. The Genji Vanguard is mainly composed of three plots:  Toki-​ hime’s (Princess Toki) love for Miura-​no-​suke (Parts  2, 4, and 6), Takatsuna and Shitobei/​Hyōe joining Sakamoto Castle (Parts  3, 5, and 6), and the battle led by Takatsuna against Tokimasa (Parts 7–​9). The first part introduces the discord between Kamakura and Sakamoto. Tokimasa’s doubts over Yori’ie’s rebellion is dissipated by Miura-​no-​suke’s eloquent excuses reminiscent of Kimura Shigenari’s cool negotiations with Ieyasu, as propagated in fictitious jitsuroku narrations. Princess Toki is the daughter of Hōjō Tokimasa. She is ordered to be married to Minamoto no Yori’ie (a reminder of the strategic marriage between Sen-​hime, Ieyasu’s granddaughter, and Hideyori), however, she is reluctant because she has heard that Yori’ie is enchanted by a concubine. Different from history, she falls in love with Miura-​no-​suke at first sight and is thereby rejected by both her father and the Sakamoto side (Part 2). Lady Uji (Uji-​no-​kata), Yori’ie’s mother who corresponds to Lady Yodo in history, is rumored to indulge in rampant love affairs (in fact, Lady Yodo’s

The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province  155 adultery was also gossiped about after Hideyoshi’s death). Under the pretext of incontinence, Lady Uji secretly searches for a strategist to support Sakamoto and summons Takatsuna, who disguises himself as a flower vendor. Takatsuna expels malignant retainers with secret connections to Kamakura as well as Yori’ie’s concubine, who has also been sent in by a villain (Part 3). In Parts 5 and 6, Shitobei, a palanquin bearer, boasts that his nickname was upgraded from Ittobei (5-​gallon-​sake-​gulping-​John) to Nitobei (10-​ gallon-​gulping), then Santobei (15 gallon), and finally to the drunkard Shitobei (20 gallon). He happens to be entrusted with Toki-​hime, who has followed Miura-​no-​suke from Kamakura to the Ōmi Province in the lyrical travel interlude in Part  4. However, he gets drunk and kills the princess. The princess was, however, a substitute and by so doing, Shitobei frees the real lady from her bad reputation as an unfaithful daughter and fiancée; for now, she is officially dead. Finally, Shitobei not only reveals himself to be the thoughtful warrior Wada Hyōe who responds to Miura-​no-​suke’s invitation to join the Sakamoto side, but also helps realize the marriage between the princess and the young samurai. In Part 7, a war ensues between Kamakura and Sakamoto, and Takatsuna and his brother Moritsuna are found on opposing sides.31 The Sasaki brothers (Takatsuna and Moritsuna), a branch of the Genji family, are famous from The Tale of the Heike, hence the title of the play. During the fight, Takatsuna’s son Koshirō is captured by Moritsuna’s son. Part 8 is the famous act of Moritsuna’s Camp. Moritsuna knows that his lord, the cunning Tokimasa will use the captured boy to bait Takatsuna. His mother, however, persuades her grandson to commit suicide before his father is entrapped. Koshirō resists his grandmother’s wishes. It is then reported that Takatsuna has been killed in battle. When Tokimasa allows the head of the dead Takatsuna to be brought in, the boy commits seppuku, lamenting his father’s death. Moritsuna notices at once that the head is of a look-​alike of his brother and understands that the boy has sacrificed himself to deceive Tokimasa. Moritsuna betrays his lord by not disclosing the truth while Tokimasa laughs triumphantly. In the final part, in a house on the lakeside,32 a waterman and his wife (who are in fact Takatsuna and his wife, Kagaribi) protect a general who has escaped from a serious defeat. Kagaribi believes the general is Tokimasa and asks her husband why he does not take the chance of his lifetime to kill his enemy. However Takatsuna knows that the genaral is only Tokimasa’s lookalike and tries to decoy the real Tokimasa to head toward Sakamoto Castle by imbuing his substitute with false information that Miura-no-suke and Wada Hyōe are dead. In the castle, Lady Uji and Yori’ie are ready to commit suicide, confused in their turn by the words of the evil priest Ōe that the Sakamoto forces have collapsed. Takatsuna returns to stop them. The final battle between Takatsuna and Tokimasa ends in a draw and Takatsuna proposes an armistice between the two lords, while the evil Ōe is executed. The play is thus concluded, albeit abruptly, following the bunraku canon of restoring the initial order.

156  The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province A Chronicle of the Three Generations of Kamakura,33 on the other hand, is known today only for its kabuki adaptation of Part 7 (Kinugawa Village), in which Princess Toki (Toki-hime) is torn between her love for her husband and filial piety to her father. However, the play as a whole depicts the final battle of the Osaka warriors who try to turn the desperate situation around. The Three Generations, like The Genji Vanguard, is mainly composed of three plots: the aftermath of the armistice between Kamakura and Sakamoto (Parts  1–​3); Hyōe/​Shitobei and his allies’ efforts to save Yori’ie’s little son (Parts 4 and 5); and Miura-​no-​suke’s death and Takatsuna’s ultimate tactics to strike down Tokimasa, involving his daughter Toki-​hime (Parts 6–​9).34 In the first part, Tokimasa praises Miura-​no-​suke for his dignified attitude at the conclusion of the armistice. Tokimasa’s words conversely hit the young samurai, reminding him of the incompetence of his lord, who is obliged to suspend the battle. In Part 2, during the meeting at the castle, Hyōe insists on a counterattack on the Kamakura’s force as soon as possible, penetrating the ceasefire. This is because he understands that the ceasefire is actually Tokimasa’s stratagem to drive Sakamoto short of provisions, which cannot be easily acquired in the war devastated land. When his plan is not adopted by the stupid assemblage, he leaves the castle in indignation. Takatsuna then proposes to gain Imperial support for Yori’ie’s cause. However, while the start of the lord’s procession toward Kyoto is delayed by the lengthy formalism of his vassals, Tokimasa is reported to have arrived at Kyoto, with the Emperor already in the palm of his hand. Neither Hyōe nor Takatsuna’s tactics are available, and the decline of Sakamoto becomes apparent. In Part  3, the retired Hyōe decides to return to being palanquin-​bearer Shitobei again, however, Lady Uji appears and asks him to take charge of Yori’ie’s son. At the same time, a messenger from Tokimasa arrives to Shitobei to offer him a huge feud of 500,000 koku if he fights for Kamakura. Hyōe/​ Shitobei denounces Tokimasa in every possible way as a treacherous man and departs, protecting the child, to aid Takatsuna and Miura-​no-​suke, for the war has started again. In Parts 4 and 5, a fierce battle breaks out along a lakeshore near Sakamoto. During the fight, Hyōe and his wife, a dashing female warrior, lose sight of the boat on which the child is aboard. The child has been taken by Osakabe Hyōbu, the seeming boss of a group of marauders who rob fugitive warriors. Osakabe is in fact another warrior working for Sakamoto (a reminder of one of the “big four” Osaka generals, Chōsokabe Morichika, who was lord of the Tosa Province before 1600). With the help of Osakabe and his wife, Yori’ie’s son is entrusted to another cooperator who takes him to refuge on the Ryūkyū (Okinawa) islands in the South Sea. In Part 6, an easygoing farmer called Tōza is mistaken for Takatsuna. Tōza is caught and brought before Tokimasa. He desperately protests that he is not Takatsuna, but the Kamakura general remains in doubt, as Takatsuna is a great manipulator of look-​alikes. Finally Tokimasa frees Tōza, but brands him on his forehead for distinction. In fact, Tōza is Takatsuna and he thus

The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province  157 obtains unchecked access to the enemy’s camp, for he has now received official assurance that “he is not Takatsuna.” He then proposes that Tokimasa bring his daughter Toki-​hime, who has remained on the Sakamoto side, back to Kamakura. In the next part, Toki-​hime attends to Miura-​no-​suke’s mother, who is ill in bed in a village called Kinugawa. The young samurai, seriously wounded in the battle, returns home hoping to see his mother, but is rejected by the old woman who blames him for weakness. Before Miura-​no-​suke departs, Toki-​hime implores him to stay with her for just one night. He concedes, but demands that she kill her father when he is killed on the battlefield. The princess, in anguish, agrees. Tōza, hidden inside the house, then appears as Takatsuna and reveals his secret plan to them –​to bring the head of Miura-​ no-​suke, who will most certainly be killed in the next battle, to the Kamakura camp and, with the guide of Toki-hime, approach Tokimasa to finish him off. Dawn arrives. Takatsuna and Toki-​hime bid farewell to the wounded young warrior starting for his last stand. While Part  8 presents the lyrical travel interlude made by a couple that has appeared in a subplot, in the final Part, we see how Takatsuna/​Tōza’s designs unfold. Toki-​hime, digressing from the plan, pleads with her father to spare Miura-​no-​suke’s life. Persuaded, her father dispatches Tōza. Alas, he comes back bringing the head of the young samurai fallen in the battlefield. While Toki-​hime is broken in grief, the satisfied Tokimasa retires to sleep. Takatsuna/​Tōza encourages Toki-hime to tell him where her father sleeps. When Takatsuna shoots the mark with a gun, he finds the princess shot in place of her father. Then troops led by Tokimasa’s son arrive, and the chance is lost forever. While the Kamakura troops praise Takatsuna for his dauntlessness and invite him to join their side, he makes fun of them, telling them that Yori’ie and his son, as well as Hyōe and Hyōbu have already set sail to the Ryūkyū (Okinawa) islands, and that he himself is going to follow suit.

Entertainment and politics Chikamatsu Hanji (1725–​1783) was the leading playwright of The Genji Vanguard. In all likelihood, the same role could also be attributed to him for The Three Generations of Kamakura. In these two plays, we can observe the dramaturgical techniques developed in fully matured bunraku pieces from the mid-​18th century. Both works frequently use disguised characters whose identities are revealed in an unexpected fashion, keeping the audience captivated every minute of the way. As a matter of fact, the above abstracts of the plays are substantially reduced versions of the plots for the sake of consistency. The subplots supporting the main storyline are so scrupulously constructed, like vignettes in miniature, that we sometimes feel lost in a maze peopled with spies, substitutes, and mysterious persons with secret purposes. In Part 6 of The Genji Vanguard, for example, we first see Shitobei, a gay palanquin bearer, longing to drink sake, which his wife forbids. After a rather

158  The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province comical scene in which he tries to have a drink in vain, a procession arrives seemingly carrying a bride. Shitobei, pretending he is the bridegroom, asks for sake to celebrate. The procession is in fact led by his wife’s brother, the former Sakamoto vassal Kataoka. We know from Part 3 that Kataoka had gone through a great amount of trouble to settle the conflict between the two camps and that he now serves the Kamakura.35 Kataoka asks the couple to hide a bride, who is really Toki-​hime. Toki-​hime, who had followed Miura-​ no-​suke from Kamakura, had not only been abandoned by her father, but the Sakamoto side had also been ordered to kill her for her denial to marry Yori’ie. Shitobei and his wife accept the proposal, hoping that he will be promoted to samurai by the Kamakura. However, a mysterious salt vendor called Chōzō, who had pursued Shitobei in the previous part, shows up and volunteers to be his disciple. Chōzō offers Shitobei sake, which he cannot resist. At the same time, Chōzō suggests that he kill Toki-​hime. The drunken Shitobei is easily tricked into cutting off the lady’s head. We are not let in on the reason for this deed, and are left to assume that he is a helpless drunkard. When Kataoka returns, bringing a congratulatory helmet for Shitobei as a sign of his employment, he finds what has been done and blames Shitobei harshly for his thoughtless act. It is at this moment that Chōzō reveals himself to be Miura-​no-​suke, who has come to invite the brave warrior Wada Hyōe to Sakamoto. In other words, Chōzō alias Miura-​no-​suke has penetrated Hyōe’s disguise as Shitobei. Shitobei alias Hyōe, in his turn, appears in armor and tells Kataoka that he saw through his intentions of substituting his own daughter for Toki-hime in order to realize the lady’s love for Miura-​no-​suke. In fact, Hyōe/​Shitobei had killed the false princess aware of Kataoka’s arrangement. While Miura-​no-​suke refuses the lady from Kamakura, Hyōe/​ Shitobei praises Kataoka not only for his desperate effort to fulfill the lady’s love, but also for his continued loyalty to Sakamoto as evidenced by him stealing the Kamakura helmet, an object indispensable for Yori’ie to become shogun. Kataoka, hearing this, commits seppuku to reconcile the young Sakamoto samurai with the Kamakura princess, and his self-​sacrifice unites the couple. This part exemplifies Hanji’s technique. Up to a certain point, we are not informed of who Shitobei is, or Chōzō, either. What we see on the stage is a drunkard and an enigmatic salt vendor, and it is only after their identities and intentions are disclosed that we retroactively come to understand their behaviors; Chōzō/​Miura-​no-​suke wanted to get rid of Toki-​hime because she is a girl from the enemy camp, while Hyōe/​Shitobei acted assuming that Kataoka, in hopes of uniting the couple, has intentionally replaced the princess with his own daughter. We must note that this dramatic situation is not the same as the one found in Sugawara, in which Genzō sacrifices a boy (who is in fact the son of the Pine) in place of Michizane’s son, or that in Yoshitsune, in which Yazaemon offers the false head of Koremori to the investigator, because while the latter two feature a dramatic interest in who

The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province  159 is in fact sacrificed, in Hanji’s play, the audience is given no hint as to how to interpret the characters’ acts until they announce their true intentions. We could call this device the delayed revelation of the characters’ intentions, which gives the plot the quality of an inverted detective story, since the revelation backwardly shifts the whole perspective on things that have happened, providing the audience with a retroactive sense of relief. The technique, at the same time, is not identical to the dramaturgy of “as it turned out,” used in Yoshitsune, either, since Hanji is not as interested in connecting characters belonging to different ages as entertaining the audience by incessant surprises. At the same time, because the jitsuroku describes Sanada Yukimura (Takatsuna in the play) as a phantom-​like strategist who uses look-​alikes,36 the playwrights could make use of tricky substitutes for Takatsuna as well as Tokimasa, further amplifying complicated situations. The frequent use of substitution and revelation in the two plays also fulfills a critical function beyond its entertainment aspect. Moritsuna’s Camp, or Part 8 of The Genji Vanguard, is another example in this regard. We don’t see why Takatsuna’s captured son Koshirō, who has resisted killing himself against his grandmother Mimyō’s requests, can so easily commit seppuku once he recognizes his father’s false head. For one thing, he had told Mimyō that he would not kill himself before achieving some merit, and for the other, his will to commit suicide had been further weakened by the sight of his mother (Kagaribi), who had dared to visit the enemy’s camp. The reason for Koshirō’s abrupt suicide is therefore not intelligible until we hear Moritsuna’s conjecture: He [Takatsuna] planned on that; sending his only son here to be captured was an essential part of his strategy. During the head inspection just completed, Koshirō’s performance –​calling out to his father as he looked upon the head, his apparently genuine grief  –​deceived even the penetrating eyes of Tokimasa. Such intelligence and perception shown by both the father who taught and the son who learned! I knew at a glance that the head was a fake, but how could I have let Koshirō, who showed such valor, die in vain?37 The delayed revelation of Koshirō and Takatsuna’s (supposed) intentions not only changes our interpretation of the preceding scenes, but also focuses on a central figure who is not present on stage. The plot of Moritsuna’s Camp is also interesting when we consider another political play with a similar symmetrical structure, Pierre Corneille’s Horace (1640).38 While Hanji’s play involves the opposition between the two brothers, their two wives, and two sons, and the intervention of the brothers’ mother, Corneille’s play features two fighters on opposing sides told through the history of ancient Rome, their sisters being the adversary’s wife or fiancée respectively. The victory of either side therefore causes tragedy. As a result of this contradictory situation, patriotism becomes incompatible with love and

160  The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province the hero (Horace) kills his sister who claims revenge for her fiancé fallen by the hand of her brother. While the French classical play is constructed on a dialectical structure demarcating the opposition based on such notions as duty, honor, and love, the discrepancy is sublimated by the intervention of the king (a praise of 17th century French absolutism). By contrast, in Moritsuna’s Camp, the symmetrical arrangement of the characters is not designed to solve the conflicting situation between the characters, for it is later revealed that everything was planned and carried out offstage by Takatsuna. According to Moritsuna, Takatsuna had factored in his own son’s self-​ sacrifice for his strategy. In contrast to Takatsuna’s cold-​ bloodedness, Moritsuna is a weak person who forgets that he is on the opposing side. He thus betrays his lord despite his loyalty, which is a pity for him (for he will be executed in the next play for this fault). It is this flaw in his character, contrasted with the steely calculation of his absent brother, that makes the situation dramatic. Besides, the characters in Moritsuna’s Camp do not freely express their thoughts. Their minds are only revealed through their actions, which are often extraordinary, such as Koshirō’s sudden seppuku. This is because, like in other bunraku plays, these characters do not have the custom of solving problems by way of reflexive discourse. The characters are obliged to decode, like Moritsuna, the true meaning of one another’s behaviors as if they (and the audience) can read the complicated pantomime (puppets are indeed wordless). If we borrow the words of Barthes, “emotion no longer floods, no longer submerges, but becomes a reading.”39 In Hanji’s play, this particular mode of communication based on muteness and conjecture comes to the foreground, largely because it was innate among the early modern Japanese. Lastly, different from Corneille’s play in which the king eventually authorizes Horace to become an honorable fighter for his fatherland, the bunraku play lacks such a simple power structure; we are not sure why Takatsuna so fiercely works for the lord Yori’ie, since he was not his vassal before. In fact, The Genji Vanguard presents Minamoto no Yori’ie as neither respectable nor capable (in history too, Toyotomi Hideyori was regarded as a powerless prince). Takatsuna, like his historic model Sanada Yukimura, voluntarily protects the vulnerable Yori’ie, knowing that his devotion will serve for nothing. His figure as a harsh and undaunted strategist is, however, betrayed in the following part (Part 9) through the effective use of the delayed revelation of identity (this part is not included in present bunraku repertoire). In it, we find that Takatsuna is not a belligerent warrior. A wretched warrior (who is apparently Tokimasa) tells the wife (Oyone) of a modest waterman (Jirosaku) that, because Takatsuna’s son’s seppuku had led him to believe in Takatsuna’s death, his force had been severely defeated. Oyone comments: “hearing your story, it is so sad and pitiful that even a child must fight and give up his life, should he be born in the house of a warrior.”40 At this point, the audience is not told who she is, however, it becomes increasingly clear that Oyone is

The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province  161 the wife of Takatsuna (Kagaribi) and Jirosaku is Takatsuna himself. After Jirosaku politely asks the warrior to retire to the next room, Oyone weeps over the dead child. Jirosaku, trying to bear up, betrays: “It was much harder for me, who cared for him in my imagination than for you, who witnessed the scene. … It was as if my bones were crushed, my body torn apart, and a hot iron rod stuck into my guts.”41 The audience is thus required to modify their image of Takatsuna as cold-​hearted, formed in the previous part. The couple’s grief is underlined all the more because it is conveyed through the delayed and indirect voices of characters in disguise.

A dissident voice to the regime The Genji Vanguard and The Three Generations of Kamakura represent the rebellious spirit of Osaka’s townspeople. It is epitomized in the words of Takatsuna in the finale of The Three Generations, in which he defies the Kamakura troops by saying: As long as I stay in Japan, I will be fed the millets of corruption by the house of Tokimasa. How filthy and disgusting! I have no hope for such a country exhausted of its fortunes. From now on, I will be based in Ryūkyū country and plan to obtain four hundred countries of Korea, China, and Manchu for our lord Yori’ie. Please do not intrude in our business!42 The same note of contempt toward Hōjō Tokimasa (i.e., Ieyasu) can be heard when Hyōe/​Shitobei rejects the offer of 500,000 koku of feud in exchange for his betrayal: “The old hate-​amassing bastard! If he wants to be spared, surrender!”43 It is no wonder that such a play incorporating this kind of provocation was forbidden by the authorities. It must be noted, at the same time, that criticism of the regime necessitated a standpoint from the periphery of Japan. The Ryūkyū (Okinawa) Kingdom in the East China Sea belonged both to China and the shogunate in the Edo period. As we have seen in the legend of the Taikō, the notion of Japan as a single country was made possible only after his figure as the unifier of Japan was combined with that of the conqueror of foreign campaigns. In much the same way, rebels in the play had to be found outside of their own country in order to assume a detached view of the existing political institution of Japan. Another approach to a relativistic view on the regime is to search for a superior authority to the shogun:  the Emperor. In Part  2 of The Three Generations, Takatsuna suggests recourse to the imperial power to retrieve the fortunes of Sakamoto (although in history, there is no evidence that Osaka took such action), which means that the playwrights were conscious that the Emperor could be an alternative pole in Japanese politics. As a matter of fact, in 1767, Yamagata Dai’ni (1725–​1767), who advocated fervent reverence of the Emperor and criticized the government, was executed

162  The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province by the authorities (the affair of Meiwa).44 It is unlikely that the bunraku authors, attentive observers of society as they were, could have been indifferent to the scandal. The Osaka people’s favoring of the Toyotomi, on the other hand, was concerned with their identity. However rich they may be, in the end, they could not stand against the warriors who monopolized military power. The most attractive aspect of the Osaka siege stories was the fact that renowned defenders of the castle like Sanada (Takatsuna) and Gotō (Hyōe/​Shitobei) were rōnin (jobless samurai) before the event. These bunraku plays, starting from fictitious jitsuroku, developed a story in which commoners become brave warriors to support the weak (and maybe incompetent) Toyotomi. The point here is that they join the house not necessarily because of obligation or loyalty, but by their own choice, despite the defenders’ inevitable doom. In this sense, they constitute another case of what Ivan Morris called the nobility of failure. Apart from the political implications discussed above, the ending of The Three Generations reflects a popular wish for the major players of the Toyotomi to have remained alive. Like the legend of Yoshitsune, in which the hero was thought to have escaped his elder brother’s attack and survived in a northern island, jitsuroku helped spread underground stories telling of the survival of not only Hideyori but also his followers, Sanada, Gotō, Kimura, and others. These stories are another version of hōgan-​biiki (empathy for the loser), shared by people who were more sensitive to the fate of the defeated than that of the winners. Seen from a macroscopic angle, Osaka in the late 18th century was on the downturn in relation to the capital. Historians remark that from this period on, Edo, which had theretofore been inferior to Osaka both in economic and cultural terms, gained by degrees a state of self-​reliance, in addition to its status as the political center.45 The term “Edokko” (citizen of Edo, corresponding to terms like Londoner or Parisian) first appeared in the late 18th century.46 The trend arguably promoted the self-​consciousness of the Osaka people, and the legend of the Toyotomi offered the possibility for discovering their identity. In fact, Matsuzaki Hitoshi points out that not only the Taikōki-​mono (dramatic pieces treating the Taikō’s life) but also plays about the Osaka siege were in vogue in Osaka during this period.47 The popularity of the Osaka siege plays could be explained by the philosophy of the Osaka people, makeru-​ga-​kachi (to lose is to win),48 which consists of their resilience in waiting for a longer term and a practical victory, meanwhile tolerating a visible and temporary defeat against aggressive rulers. Even their acclaim of the Taikō’s life finally converges into a drama of rebellion against authority in The Picture Book of the Taikō (Ehon Taikōki), the last successful bunraku piece in 1799, which we shall mention in the conclusion. Finally, the opposition between Osaka (the west) and Edo (the east) could be located in a wider cultural context, which lingers on even today. Not only

The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province  163 were the two groups of inhabitants distinctive in their habits like the spoken language, tastes for eating and clothing, and even for the performing arts, but there was also a considerable difference in mentality. The two plays of the Osaka siege embody the counter-​cultural attitude of the Osaka people toward the centralizing organization of the country, which was already underway in the late Edo period.

Notes

1 Chikamatsu Hanji (1949). 2 Fujiki Hisashi (2005). 3 Taikō was the title of the retired kanpaku, that is, Hideyoshi. 4 Jansen (2000, p. 19). 5 For various versions of the Taikōki, see Kuwata Tadachika (1965). 6 CZ 11. The English title is ours. Shively translated the title as Japan’s Chronicle of the Three Kingdoms (1982, p. 45). However, as Chikamatsu’s title was fashioned after The Chinese History of the Three Kingdoms in the 3rd century, Shively’s translation is misleading. 7 Takeda Izumo I (2006). The English title is ours. 8 Namiki Sōsuke, Miyoshi Shōraku, Takeda IzumoII (2013). The English title is ours. 9 As noted in the first chapter, Shimabara was the name of a pleasure quarter on the outskirts of Kyoto. 10 Harada Masumi (2012, p.  25). For Taikōki-​mono (plays treating the life of Hideyoshi) in bunraku in the 18th century, see Harada (2009). 11 Aoki Akira et al. (1989). 12 Nagatomo Chiyoji indicates that in 1699 there were 37 bookshops in Osaka (that sold, rented, and sometimes published books), while its population counted about 370,000 at the time (Nagatomo, 1982, p.  12). For illegal, handwritten copies of jitsuroku, see Takahashi Keiichi (2011, p. 8). 13 National Diet Library Digital Collections. Last consulted on December 5, 2019, https://​dl.ndl.go.jp/​info:ndljp/​pid/​881795. 14 Takahashi (2011, p. 25). 15 Kino Kaion (1979). The English title is ours. For an English synopsis of the play, see Shively (1982, pp. 47–​49). Shively translated the title as Yoshitsune and the New Takadachi. 16 Namiki Sōsuke (1990). The English title is ours. Southern barbarian was a synonym for European because for the Japanese, Europeans such as the Portuguese and Dutch seemed to come from the South Sea. Southern Barbarian Iron means imported precious metal. A brief English summary of the play can be found in Shively (1982, pp. 49–​50). 17 Uchiyama (1967, pp. 5–​11). 18 Ibid., pp. 29–​30. 19 Many feudal lords in the Edo period, including the Tokugawa, were of obscure origin as they had survived the Age of Warring States through power. They were not so different from Hideyoshi in this respect. Under the Tokugawa regime, they forged their own lineages for the sake of appearances. 20 Uchiyama (1967, p. 50).

164  The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province 21 22 23 24 25

Ibid., pp. 14–​28. Ibid., p. 22. Tsurumi Makoto (1959, p. 17). Ibid., p. 20. In fact, Uchiyama found a defective handwritten copy entitled Decorations for a Helmet for Great Peace; however, she does not consider this version as a faithful reproduction of the stage script for the 1770 production. See Uchiyama (1983, pp. 73–​91). As a side note, Takai Shiho translated the title as Ornate Battle Helmet of Taihei (2015, p. 47). 26 As noted in the first chapter, published bunraku texts for pure reading (without musical notations), which were not produced on stage, were popular among the people. The reason why this bunraku text (Flower Decorations) escaped censorship is uncertain. 27 Uchiyama (1983) and Kubori (2015, p. 145). 28 Uchiyama (1983). 29 Kamakura is located about 30 miles west of Tokyo (Edo) and was the capital of the Kamakura shogunate from the 12th to the 14th century. 30 For authors who collaborated on the play, see Jones (2013, p. 11). 31 The Sanada brothers (Yukimura and Nobuyuki) in history were also divided on opposing sides during the siege of Osaka. 32 As the play is set in Sakamoto, geographically speaking, the battlefield should be located on the Biwa lakeside. 33 The three generations refer to Yori’ie and Sanetomo, their (defunct) father Yoritomo, and the son of Yori’ie (Kinsato). 34 The present bunraku/​ kabuki text of The Three Generations of Kamakura is composed of ten parts. We refer here to the original text annotated by Tsurumi. 35 The figure of Kataoka is undoubtedly taken from historic Katagiri Katsumoto (1556−1615) who exhausted himself in the negotiation between the Toyotomi and the Tokugawa. 36 For Sanada Yukimura and his look-​alikes depicted in jitsuroku, see Hasegawa Yasushi (2016). 37 Jones (2013, p. 41) and Chikamatsu Hanji (1949, p. 279). 38 Corneille, University of Oxford Text Archive. Last consulted on December 5, 2019, www.theatre-​classique.fr/​pages/​pdf/​CORNEILLEP_​HORACE.pdf. See also http://​downloads.it.ox.ac.uk/​ota-​public/​tcp/​Texts-​HTML/​free/​A34/​A34578. html. 39 Barthes (1982, p. 54). 40 Chikamatsu Hanji (1949, p. 289). The translation is ours. 41 Ibid., p. 291. The translation is ours. 42 Tsurumi Makoto (1959, p. 280). The translation is ours. 43 Ibid., p. 210. The translation is ours. The anecdote of Ieyasu offering a huge feud to Gotō Matabei had been popular in the Edo period through jitsuroku. Takahashi (2011, p. 118). 44 Fujita (2018, pp. 159–​160). 45 See, for example, Taniyama Masamichi (1994). 46 Miyamoto Mataji (2014, p. 409). 47 Matsuzaki Hitoshi (2004, pp. 278–​286). 48 Miyamoto (2014, p. 423).

The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province  165

Bibliography Aoki Akira, Kami Hiroshi, Fujikawa Munenobu, Matsubashi Yasuaki, ed. & annot. 1989. “Osaka monogatari [The Tales of Osaka].” In Kinai sengoku gunkishū [Collection of War Chronicles from Warring States in the Kinai Region]: 177–​200. Osaka: Izumi shoin. Barthes, Roland. 1982. Empire of Signs. Translated by Richard Howard. London: Jonathan Cape. Chikamatsu Hanji. 1949. Ōmi Genji senjin yakata [The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province]. Annotated by Shuzui Kenji. In Chikamatsu Hanji shū [Collected Works of Chikamatsu Hanji]: 187–​304. Tokyo: Asahishinbunsha. Fujiki Hisashi. 2005. Tenkatōitsu to Chōsen shinryaku: Oda-​Toyotomi seiken no jitsuzō [The Unification of Japan and the Invasion of Korea:  The Reality of the Oda/​ Toyotomi Government]. Tokyo: Kōdansha. Fujita Satoru. 2018. Edojidai no Ten-​ nō [The Emperor in the Edo Period]. Tokyo: Kōdansha. Harada Masumi. 2009. “Jūhachiseiki no ningyō jōrurikai to Taikōki-​mono [The Milieu of Bunraku in the 18th Century and Plays Treating the Life of Toyotomi Hideyoshi].” In Gakugekigaku [Journal of Music Theater] 16: 38–​57. —​—​—​. 2012. “Keisei makura gundan shiron: Nanakusa shirō to Shima Kanzaemon no jinbutsuzōkei wo megutte [A Study of A Military Story Told on the Pillow of a Courtesan:  Concerning the Characterization of Nanakusa shirō and Shima Kanzaemon].” In Engekieizoigaku 2011 [Studies of Theatre and Cinema 2011], Vol.  4: 23–​44. Engekihakubutsukan Global COE kiyou [Tsubouchi Memorial Theatre Museum COE Review]. Tokyo:  Tsubouchi Memorial Theatre Museum COE Program, Waseda University. Hasegawa Yasushi. 2016. “Sanada Yukimura to kagemusha:  kinseki no jitsuroku to jōruri wo chūshin’ni [Sanada Yukimura and His Look-​Alikes: Focusing on Jitsuroku and Bunraku in the Early Modern Period].” Hiroshima Keizai Daigaku kenkyū ronshū [Bulletin of the Hiroshima University of Economics], Vol. 39, no. 1–2: 35–50 Available as e-​text http://​harp.lib.hiroshima-​u.ac.jp/​hue/​metadata/​12251. Jansen, Marius B. 2000. The Making of Modern Japan. Cambridge: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press. Jones, Stanleigh H. Jr., trans. & annot. 2013. “The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province. Moritsuna’s Camp,” In The Bunraku Puppet Theatre of Japan: 10–​46. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press. Kino Kaion. 1979. “Yoshitsune shintakatachi [Yoshitsune’s Residence at Shitakatachi].” In Kino Kaion zenshū [Complete Works of Kino Kaion], Vol. 4, edited by Kaion kenkyūkai [Study Group on Kaion]. Osaka: Seibundō Shuppan. Kubori Hiroaki. 2015. “Jōruri ŌmiGenji senjin yakata to Taihei kabuto no kazari no kōsō:  jitsuroku Enshokutaiheirakki tono kankei to ryōsha no sekai settei [Conception of The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province and Decorations for a Helmet for Great Peace: Their Relation to Jitsuroku Enshokutaiheirakki and Their Setting of Story Worlds].” Bungaku [Literature] 16(2015–​2014), July-​August: 143–​160. Kuwata Tadachika. 1965. Taikō-​ki no kenkyū [A Study of the Taikō-​ki]. Tokyo: Tokuma shoten. Matsuzaki Hitoshi. 2004. Butai no hikari to kage:  kinsei engeki-​shi kō [Light and Shadow on Stage: A Study of Early Modern Theatre]. Tokyo: Shinwasha.

166  The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province Miyamoto Mataji. 2014. Kansai to Kantō [The Kansai Region vs the Kantō Region]. Tokyo: Bungeishunjū. (First published in 1966.) Nagatomo Chiyoji. 1982. Kinsei kashihon’ya no kenkyū [A Study of Rental Bookshops in the Early Modern Period]. Tokyo: Tokyodō shuppan. Namiki Sōsuke. 1990. “Nanbantetsu Gotō no menuki [Gotō’s Sword Hilt Made of Southern Barbarian Iron].” Annotated by Mukai Yoshiki. In Toyotake-​za Jōruri-​shū [Collection of Bunraku Plays from the Toyotake-​za], Vol. 2:  329–​388. Tokyo: Kokusho kankōkai. Namiki Sōsuke, Miyoshi Shōraku, Takeda Izumo II. 2013. “Keisei makura gundan [A Military Story Told on the Pillow of a Courtesan].” In Gidayū Jōruri mihonkoku sakuhin shūsei [Collection of Unpublished Works of Bunraku Texts] Vol. 31, supervised by Torigoe Bunzō and edited by Gidayūshōhon kankōkai. Tokyo: Tamagawa University Press. Shively, Donald H. 1982. “Tokugawa Plays on Forbidden Topics.” In Chūshingura. Studies in Kabuki and the Puppet Theatre: 23–​57, edited by James R. Brandon. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press. Takahashi Keiichi. 2011. Osaka-​jō no otoko-​tachi: kinsei jitsuroku ga egaku eiyūzō [Men at the Osaka Castle: Heroes Depicted in Early Modern Jitsuroku]. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. Takai Shiho. 2015. “Prostitutes, Stepmothers, and Provincial Daughters: Women and Jōruri Puppet Plays in 18th Century Japan.” PhD diss., Columbia University. Takeda Izumo I.  2006. “Shusse yakko osana monogatari [A Story of Rising Young Tigers].” In Gidayū Jōruri mihonkoku sakuhin shūsei [Collection of Unpublished Works of Bunraku Texts], Vol. 1, supervised by Torigoe Bunzō and edited by Gidayūshōhon kankōkai. Tokyo: Tamagawa University Press. Taniyama Masamichi. 1994. “Kamigata keizai to Edo jimawari keizai [The economy of the Kamigata region and that of the Edo local network].” In Higashi to nishi:  Edo to kamigata [East and West:  Edo and the Kamigata Region]:  113–​158, edited by Aoki Michio. Nihon no kinsei [The Japanese Early Modern Period], Vol. 17. Tokyo: Chūōkōronsha. Tsurumi Makoto, annot. 1959. “Kamakura sandai-​ki [A Chronicle of the Three Generations of Kamakura].” In Jōrurishū [Bunraku Plays], Vol. 2.  Nihon koten bungaku taikei [Collection of Japanese Classic Literature] 52. Tokyo:  Iwanami shoten. Uchiyama Mikiko. 1967. “Nanbantetsu Gotō no menuki-​kō [A Study of Gotō’s Sword Hilt Made of Southern Barbarian Iron].” In Engeki Kenkyū [Theater Study], Vol. 2: 1–​57. Tokyo: Waseda University Tsubouchi Memorial Theatre Museum.

8  Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women Eros and politics

Chikamatsu Hanji, a leading bunraku playwright since the mid-​18th century, was interested in rebels in his plays. Mount Imo and Mount Se was no exception, featuring a usurper of the Emperor’s throne in the 7th century. The focal points of the play, however, are love affairs led by female characters, and in them, we find that Hanji’s concerns lay in Eros working against the male-​dominated society. It was the political background after the death of the (retired) Shogun Yoshimune, or the dynamic social change realized through the activities of “speculators,” that made such dramatic imagination possible, as we shall see below.

The age of speculators In 1751, three years after the premiere of Chūshingura, the eighth shogun Yoshimune died at the age of 66. From that time until the years around 1770, which formed the peak of Chikamatsu Hanji’s (1725–​1783) activities, the country was ruled under two shoguns: Ieshige (1712–​1761) and Ieharu (1737–​ 1786), Yoshimune’s son and grandson.1 Different from the eighth shogun, they were not marked by strong leadership, thus paving the way for Tanuma Okitsugu (1719–​1788) to assume power. Okitsugu became Ieshige’s page in 1734 and was elevated to senior councilor (rōjū) in 1772 under the auspices of Ieharu. In the meantime, his stipend also rose sharply from 600 koku as the shogun’s direct vassal to 30,000 koku as a feudal lord of the Sagara domain.2 Such rapid promotion was rarely seen throughout the Tokugawa period. As Ōishi Shinzaburō points out,3 Tanuma’s career illustrates how the shogunate found ways to post the right men in the right places, against the rigid administration system in which offices were distributed according to the predetermined ranks of the samurai. In this alternative system, which skipped over hierarchy, the shogun could search for able political advisors among low-​ ranking vassals, and nominate them as sobayōnin (lord chamberlains), leaving important issues to their discretion. However, as long as the authority of sobayōnin was backed by the shogun, no sooner was the shogun dead than conservative political opponents in the administration would relegate them.

168  Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women This political device goes back to the Genroku era (1688–​1704), when the shogun Tsunayoshi gave one of his low-​ranking vassals the position of feudal lord.4 It was also the case with Arai Hakuseki and his colleague Manabe Akifusa who supported two shoguns after Tsunayoshi. While the former was of rōnin origin, the latter was miraculously elevated from Noh actor to feudal lord!5 In the history of sobayōnin, Tanuma is without doubt one of the most controversial figures, as his policies had the potential of negating the regime, nominally based on agrarian society. While Tanuma’s primary mission was, like preceding administrations, to achieve a balanced budget, he could no longer rely on the traditional measure of imposing additional obligations on farmers. In fact, as a result of the relentless taxation during Yoshimune’s reign, farmers were exhausted and ready for a more violent and widespread uprising. At the same time, while there was sufficient financing in the 1740s, the governmental deficit had accumulated by degrees in later years.6 Thus, instead of defending an old-​fashioned campaign based on frugality (which was to be resumed after Tanuma’s downfall in 1787), Tanuma took notice of another possibility left half-​finished from the reforms of the eighth shogun:  raising money from commerce and industry. Following Yoshimune’s lead, he thus encouraged the formation of merchant monopolistic associations for various commodities such as oil-​seeds, cotton, sake, and shōyu (soy sauce) in addition to rice, with the view of controlling prices as well as collecting licensing fees and contribution. The nationwide exploitation of mines, especially that of copper, was of great interest for improving the trade deficit with the Dutch and Chinese. The export of dried seafood for Chinese haute cuisine was boosted for that effect. An attempt was also made at the domestic production of imported goods such as ginseng (for pharmaceutical use), wool, and sugar. Finally, the development of the large Ezo Island (called Hokkaidō today), the most of which was blurred in the mysterious northern sea beyond the reach of the Japanese, seemed quite attractive. Tanuma and his followers were busy considering these approaches for solving the financial problems of the government. Based on observations of the day, Fujita Satoru rightly qualifies the Tanuma period (from the 1760s to the 1780s) as the age of speculators (yamashi).7 Yamashi originally meant dubious mine developers advertising fabulous stories. However, in the sociocultural context in which these undervalued people endeavored, without regard to their social rank, to succeed through only talent and ideas, yamashi were equal to speculators who prematurely enjoyed the good days of a conservative and reactionary society –​and Tanuma was representative of their kind. As a matter of fact, not only the shogun but feudal lords were also in need of such personnel who merged pragmatism with the spirit of the venturer, so urgent were their financial difficulties. Tanuma, however, was not popular among the commoners. For one thing, he was reputed to be corrupt and to take bribes from all parties. According to Tsuji Tatsuya, “this kind of corruption was part of the fabric of Tokugawa

Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women  169 political life. Nobody was immune to it, nor was the practice as condemned as it is today.”8 Another reason for discrediting him could be that he was a possible reformer. As we will see in the next chapter, those who tried to challenge the established order, whether it be Tanuma in the shogunate or his likes in the feudal governments, were prone to be considered as villains in the world of the  status quo. Nonetheless, the commodity distribution network that connected big cities and feudal territories was further developed, as the archipelago could not stand without economic communications.

Chikamatsu Hanji and the bunraku crisis In 1767, the Takemoto-​za theatre was in trouble. Its cause was directly related to the financial policies led under Tanuma’s initiative. On the pretense of responding to a civil petition, the authorities announced that they would install registry offices in Osaka treating all real estate rental agreements (rented houses were quite common in the city). Their purpose was to extract fees from townspeople exempted from taxation, in exchange for guaranteeing existing contracts. Osaka’s people were furious not only at the suddenly imposed high commissions, but also at the officious interference in private activities.9 The petition, however, was a conspiracy initiated by Osaka merchants including the theatre managers of the Takemoto-​za (the Takeda family). They thus cooperated with the authorities to realize the maneuver.10 As a matter of fact, the Takemoto-​ za was suffering from financial problems. Following the theatre’s golden age in the 1740s, marked with the extraordinary box-​office successes of three plays (Sugawara, Yoshitsune, and Chūshingura), the Takeda family had owned five theatres in Osaka and Kyoto in the 1750s. However, entering the 1760s, their business had expanded so much that they began to experience a shortage of funds. To make matters worse, the leader of the family was accused and imprisoned for overly bribing Osaka city magistrates (machi bugyō) (this fact indicates that bribery was not limited to Tanuma).11 The Takedas then speculated, in hopes of gaining substantial return, in the sensitive affair of governmental taxation on the townspeople of Osaka. The enraged people rioted and destroyed the house of the merchant assumed to be the mastermind behind the petition. The Takedas, frightened, departed for a tour in the provinces and on their return, they were obliged to withdraw the name of the Takemoto-​za from the Dōtonbori theatre district for a year and a half from 1768 to 1769. Their good repute seemed to have disappeared. It was only in December 1769 that the Takemoto-​za was able to start anew.12 In the meantime, at the Toyotake-​za, rival of the Takemoto-​za, the founder Toyotake Echizen-​no-​shōjō (Toyotake Wakatayū I: 1681–​1764) passed away at the age of 84. Since his debut at the Takemoto-​za in 1697, he had been a renowned chanter with a beautiful voice. It is well known that his chanting style (called higashi-​fū, or the east style. Its name was derived from the fact that the Toyotake-​za was located to the east of the Takemoto-​za) has been

170  Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women preserved up to this day, alongside Takemoto Gidayū’s west style (nishi-​fū). Toyotake Wakatayū had inaugurated his own theatre in 1703, assuming the role of a brilliant chanter as well as a competent theatre manager. In 1731, his company had the honor of performing before the Emperor, whereupon he was bestowed the title of Echizen-​no-​shōjō.13 After his death, however, the lax management of his successor led to the closing of the theatre in 1765, while its tradition was transplanted to the Toyotake Konokichi-​za opened the next year by the chanter Toyotake Konotayū II (1726−1796). The playhouse was, however, located in Kitahorie, a newly developed pleasure quarter outside the Dōtonbori theatre district. As Uchiyama indicates,14the temporary closures of two theatres do not necessarily denote that bunraku was on the decline, because amateurs of the theatre could be found nationwide and new plays were continuously being produced in Osaka. However, it is undeniable that the troubles of these two houses foreshadowed the difficult path that bunraku would follow in the late 18th century. Chikamatsu Hanji was active in the midst of the Takemoto-​za crisis. Seen from this angle, we can understand why he produced two plays about the Osaka siege (The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province in December 1769 [the 12th month of Meiwa  6] and Decorations for a Helmet for Great Peace in May 1770)  precisely during this period  –​to recover the favor of Osaka’s people through an appealing theme, even though the latter play was banned by the authorities for its radicalism. Hanji was born in 1725 as the son of the Confucianist scholar Hozumi Koretsura (1692–​1769),15 a close friend of Chikamatsu Monzaemon (1653–​ 1725) in his later years. His nom de plume (Chikamatsu Hanji) means half the greatness of the renowned playwright. It is no wonder that Hanji had frequented the theatre district from his childhood. In his early twenties, he saw the heyday of bunraku, in which three masterpieces were successively produced at the Takemoto-​za from 1746 to 1748. This may possibly be the very reason why his dramas are so scrupulously constructed. He aimed to go beyond the expectations of the audience who were familiar with the dramatic devices utilized in foregoing works. As a result, his plays are marked with incessant twists of identity and/​or intentions. We are not allowed in any single moment to believe what we see on stage; an apparently treacherous man is in fact loyal, a humble peasant turns out to be a noble warrior, and a prince may actually only be his substitute. Japan’s Twenty-​Four Paragons of Filial Piety (1766) is considered one of his best plays, while its complex dramatic structure has puzzled researchers.16 The play features surprise after surprise brought about by the frequent use of substitutes, changelings, and disguised characters, while its technique gives it a taste of mystery. Hanji started his career as a playwright in 1751. The 1750s saw a change of generations for bunraku authors. Among the trio who collaborated for the Takemoto-​za’s three monumental works, in the year of Hanji’s debut, Namiki Sōsuke (1695–​1751) had died after returning to the Toyotake-​za the

Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women  171 year before. Takeda Izumo II (1691–​1755), who had managed the Takemoto-​ za from 1747 up to his death and taught playwriting to Hanji, had also passed way. Only Miyoshi Shōraku (birth year unknown) was still living, supposedly in his seventies in 1770. Hanji was also conscious of a new breed of kabuki playwrights who were also appearing on the scene. Representative of this group was Namiki Shōza (1730–​1773), who is known to have invented the revolving stage in kabuki (1758). Shōza was born as the son of a theatre teahouse manager in Dōtonbori and, like Hanji, he was a man of the theatre by nature. In 1750, Shōza became a disciple of Namiki Sōsuke, and after the death of his master, he began to write kabuki plays in the bunraku style, that is, pieces with a tight construction. While kabuki pieces prior to this period had consisted of low-​quality compositions that would be thrown out once used, a new kind of play that was worth recording and repeatedly using was being developed. Hanji’s plays are often said to pay specific attention to visual effects, and competition with kabuki may have been part of the reason for this. The influence of kabuki plays on Hanji’s works can be exemplified by A Mirror in the Home of Tenjiku Tokubei,17 produced in 1763 at the Takemoto-​ za. The play was adapted from Shōza’s 1757 kabuki piece A Reader of the Hearsay about Tenjiku Tokubei.18 As indicated in Chapter  2, Tokubei in Shōza’s play was a survivor of a shipwreck who was forced to guide the Japanese invading army in Korea. He later reveals himself to be a disguised vassal of the Korean kingdom who is helping a rebellious Japanese lord. If Hanji were interested in Shōza’s play, its exotic motif apart, it would have presumably been because Shōza treats the hero (Tokubei) as a mysterious villain who tries to take revenge on the Japanese for its invasion of Korea. Hanji develops the theme in a wider historical context in two plays, A Tomb of the Beast in Yamashiro Province19 and A Mirror in the Home of Tenjiku Tokubei, which were staged alternately for continuity. The former treats a Korean called Moku Soku Han who tries to kill Hideyoshi’s heir20 by feigning to be his favored attendant. In the latter, although the play is set in a different age, Tokubei is announced as the son of a revengeful Korean in Japan who thereupon decides to be a dangerous adventurer challenging the existing order. Such dramatic situations suggest that, different from the age of Chikamatsu, simplistic praise of Hideyoshi as a conqueror of Korea was not shared by playwrights or by the audience either, although the former ruler still remained popular among the people in Osaka. In the case of Hanji, he was rather concerned with rebellious characters such as Takatsuna and Shitobei in the two plays about the Osaka siege. Perhaps, it is not a wild idea to compare these rebels with yamashi (speculators), as both face institutionalized power on their own. The hero in A Mirror in the Home of Tenjiku Tokubei, for example, kills his former wife, who had remarried during his absence due to a shipwreck, and declares: “this man, Tenjiku Tokubei, bids farewell forever to any lineage in three thousand worlds of Buddhist karma, by killing his

172  Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women wife, child and even parents.”21 He then goes on in his pursuit of power, even though he is doomed to failure.

The ruler and the rebel It is generally admitted that from the 1750s to the 1770s, Hanji developed the theme of the relationship between ruler and rebel, working as either a minor author under a multiauthorship or taking the role of leading playwright.22 In the work En-​no-​gyōja (En the Ascetic) and the Cherry Trees of Ōmine Mountain (1751),23 for which Hanji is first credited as playwright, he portrays a young man in the 8th century who is suddenly told that he is a crown prince who has grown up among the commoners. The Emperor then dies and our hero decides, after some hesitation due to his vulgar origin, to be his successor. It is then further revealed that he is in fact the son of an evil high noble who plans to usurp the throne. The hero then determines, in a cold-​blooded conspiracy, to replace the imperial lineage with his own. Although the play as a whole lacks consistency and makes digressions into the anecdotes of the legendary ascetic En-​no-​gyōja, the exposition is certainly finished by Hanji and reflects his interest in the rebel resisting the established order. As previously indicated, it is not only the critical eye of a “Korean” that casts doubt on the legitimacy of Hideyoshi’s foreign campaign and his subsequent rule, but the rebellious warriors defending Osaka Castle from the Tokugawa’s attack also question the Tokugawa regime. Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women (Imoseyama on’na teikin),24 which premiered in March 1771 (the first month of Meiwa 8), can also be found in this vein. The play is famous for the act in Part 3 (The Mountains), in which a girl and boy in love are obliged to kill themselves while their families are in conflict, much like in Romeo and Juliet. Similar to Moritsuna’s Camp in The Genji Vanguard, we can observe Hanji’s inclination toward clearly marked contrasts. In fact, this part is symmetrically constructed for visual effect; the two houses of the opposing families are separated in the center by a river and, different from bunraku conventions, the chanters and shamisen players are also divided on both sides of the stage, alternately assuming the narration and musical accompaniment of the opposing parties. The concept of this part also indicates the author’s concern for outdoing kabuki in spectacular stage effects. However, analyzing the play through a focus on this particular part is misleading, as the entire work was conceived by the playwriting team led by Hanji.25 The play is set in the 7th century while, like other bunraku history plays, it also portrays an anachronistic overlapping of 18th century contemporary life. Its narrative framework is related to what is called the Taika Reforms (Taika no Kaishin), a political struggle thought to have taken place in the mid-​7th century between two parties striving for a desirable political institution for the country. While scholars today discuss the scope and content of the reforms, in the pre-​modern period, they were simply understood as the conflict between the two clans: the Fujiwara and the Soga. When the Fujiwara

Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women  173

Figure 8.1 Act of The Mountains (scene from Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women). Hinadori (left. Yoshida Minosuke, lead puppeteer) and Koganosuke (right. Kiritake Kanjūrō, lead puppeteer). © National Bunraku Theatre.

(to be more precise, the founder of the clan, Fujiwara no Kamatari) won over the Soga (or their head, Soga no Iruka), he established the foundation for the Fujiwara to flourish in the court up to the 11th century. Since the first history of Japan (The Nihon shoki: Chronicles of Japan) was compiled under the patronage of the Fujiwara, that is, the winners, the Soga, or the losers, were depicted in history as villains. The dramatic imagination before the modern period followed this viewpoint, considering Fujiwara no Kamatari as a smart and good high noble, while Soga no Iruka was a powerful but arrogant minister. Hanji’s play is based on this basic situation, but he further extends the conflict over two generations: Kamatari and his son Tankai (Fujiwara no Fuhito) versus Emishi and his son Iruka. Another one of his devices is that, contrary to historical fact, Emperor Tenji is blind from illness in the play. The play thus unfolds upon the background of the Emperor’s disability, with the villain holding the power. According to Moriyama Shigeo, the play is constructed on the mythical conflict between life and death, in which the latter is embodied by the dominance of the fake king, Iruka.26 Moriyama argues that purifying the world requires blood sacrifices on stage. In fact, the play features three impressive scenes of death. The first is the tragedy of a hunter called Shibaroku (he is in fact the jobless samurai Genjō) in Part 2. Shibaroku sacrifices his own son in place of his stepson Sansaku, because Sansaku assumes Shibaroku’s responsibility in shooting a sacred deer. The second tragedy is, as mentioned, the death of a young couple in Part 3. Lastly in Part 4, a young woman named Omiwa is killed due to her passionate love

174  Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women for a young man, however, it is revealed that her blood was necessary to neutralize the power of the evil Iruka. The problem with Moriyama’s discussion is that the play does not follow such thematic development. Especially because its structure is complicated by the delayed revelations of the characters’ intentions, a favorite technique of Hanji’s. While the triplets in Sugawara, the three Heike generals in Yoshitsune, and the loyal retainers in Chūshingura were aware of the situations in which they took action, the characters in Mount Imo and Mount Se are not given knowledge of the part that they play in the development of the entire drama. This is only revealed retrospectively by the words of a few key persons, as if a detective is solving a riddle. However, since several such “detectives,” who are not directly related to one other, exist, we cannot see who the central figure is throughout the five-​part composition. As Hashimoto Osamu points out,27 despite the apparently simple story of disposing a monstrous villain, the play is by no means easy to make head or tail of. We give below a rough sketch of the play because, as aforementioned, Hanji’s works are overly elaborate. In the first part, Iruka’s father Emishi has Kamatari expelled from the court through the false accusation that Kamatari is planning to usurp the throne. In fact, it is he who conspires lese majesty. Emishi, however, is accused by his own son Iruka and is obliged to kill himself. Iruka, in turn, has used the death of his father for his own ambitions. The evil son declares that he will ascend to the throne, for he has succeeded in stealing one of the regalia –​the treasured sword. Part 2 is set at night in the mountains near Kōfukuji Temple. Shibaroku shoots a deer in the sacred precincts. Meanwhile, the blind Emperor and his courtiers, who have escaped from the court, arrive at his modest house. Shibaroku is then brought to a local office by Iruka’s henchmen on the suspicion of hiding the Emperor. This is in fact an attempt by Kamatari to ascertain the hunter’s loyalty. Shibaroku, dishonored, stabs his own son to prove his sincerity. In the meantime, his stepson Sansaku is arrested for the crime of killing the deer hunted by Shibaroku. However, he is pardoned because of the sacrifice of Shibaroku’s son, and Shibaroku is allowed to be restored to his former position as samurai. The deer that Shibaroku hunted is revealed to be necessary in exorcising the evil Iruka. Two of the missing regalia are found and the Emperor regains his sight. Part 3 opens with Iruka’s arrival at the residence of one of his courtiers in the city of Nara. As he is now enthroned, commoners of various professions gather before him in hopes of being bestowed honorary titles. Iruka summons two courtiers, Daihanji and Sadaka, the latter being the widow of the late Dazai. The two are quarreling over their territories. Iruka orders Daihanji to make his son Koganosuke serve him and Sadaka, to make her daughter Hinadori his consort. In fact Iruka intends to torture Koganosuke, doubting his loyalty. The scene changes to the Mountains where Koganosuke and Hinadori, upon hearing Iruka’s requests, decide to kill themselves, respectively. Although

Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women  175 their parents know that the deaths of their children signify the ends of their family lineages, in the end, they encourage the children’s decisions. Part 4 is located in the village of Miwa, south of Nara. Among the villagers is a handsome young rōnin named Motome, who Omiwa, the daughter of a sake shop, is in love with. However, Omiwa is told that Motome is secretly seeing a lady. Jealous, Omiwa presses Motome for an answer as to who this secret lady is. Meanwhile, the lady disappears and Motome follows her, pursued in his turn by Omiwa. The love triangle journeys from the village of Miwa to Iruka’s palace near Mikasa Mountain (in Nara), constituting the play’s lyrical travel interlude. When Iruka holds a feast boasting of his magnificent palace, a bold fisherman called Fukashichi visits him and hands him a message that Kamatari surrenders. Iruka makes fun of the message and orders the messenger to be restrained. Then, Motome arrives in pursuit of the lady. The lady is in fact Princess Tachibana, Iruka’s sister. Meanwhile Motome is Tankai, the son of Kamatari. He covertly tells the princess that, if she wants to marry him, she must steal the treasured sword that Iruka hides, a suggestion that she accepts. Then Omiwa appears in search of her lover. The court ladies, knowing that she is Princess Tachibana’s rival of vulgar origin, ridicule her in a merciless fashion. Not only is Omiwa mortified, but she is also stabbed by Fukashichi. The fisherman, however, praises the dying Omiwa because the fresh blood of an obsessed woman is exactly what he needs, together with the blood of a deer, to defeat Iruka. Omiwa, through her attachment to Motome/​Tankai, thus contributes to the plan of annihilating the great evil. When the final battle between Kamatari and Iruka takes place, Iruka is weakened, as if hypnotized, by the sound of a magical flute sprinkled with the blood of the woman and the deer, and the treasured sword leaves his hands. Kamatari finally beats him. The final part (Part 5) is extremely short and consists of scenes congratulating the Emperor, who moves the capital to Shiga (in Ōmi Province), and the marriage of Tankai to Princess Tachibana.

A world upside down Mount Imo and Mount Se is a political play written in the tone of a fairytale. Part of this fairytale-​like impression comes from word games incorporated into the dramatic development. Why is Iruka, for example, depressed by the sound of a magical flute sprinkled with the blood of a deer? Because his name in Chinese ideograms signifies deer (this was common knowledge for the audience). Starting from this bit of information, the playwrights have also invented the story that Iruka’s aged father, wishing to have a boy, made his wife drink the fresh blood of a white doe. And thus, Iruka was born. He was not only named after the deer but also had become vulnerable to the blood of the deer. In addition, as the deer is a sacred animal of the Kōfukuji Temple in Nara (and of the Kasuga-​taisha Shrine, as both are the same, due

176  Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women to Buddhist/​Shintoist eclecticism), which is a family temple of the Fujiwara clan, Iruka is opposed to the Fujiwara by nature. The mystical story of Iruka’s birth is revealed by Fukashichi (Kamatari’s loyal vassal) who kills poor Omiwa. The name Fukashichi, in turn, sounds like the word “shark” in the spoken language while Iruka is phonetically synonymous to “dolphin.” Consequently, the visit of the former to Iruka is associated with the confrontation of these two sea animals. While this kind of word game is prevalent in bunraku plays, as we have discussed in Chapter  1, for the modern eye this method seems quite surrealistic (Raymond Roussel’s le procédé) − a play with words engenders a play. Moreover, according to Uchiyama,28 the whole play is based on such a conception. The drama develops from a Japanese anagram of the Emperor Tenji. As ten means heaven and ji, earth, the powerless (blind) Emperor brings about a reversed world in which the bottom becomes the top and vice versa.29 Uchiyama further points out this was likely one of Miyoshi Shōraku’s ideas, because for one, he is thought to have used similar anagrams for other plays, and for the other, Shōraku possibly assumed a tutorial position in regards to the younger generation of playwrights at the Takemoto-​za. This viewpoint gives much insight into the play, as it depicts the pell-​mell of an inverted world. This is most visible in the scene where the imperial company arrives at the humble house of Shibaroku. The Emperor, being blind, takes the place for the palace and Tankai, Kamatari’s son, must explain to his Highness that he is in a splendid court before beautifully dressed courtiers. The scene lies in contrast to Iruka’s palace in Part 4, which is truly gorgeous. Is this opposition designed to accentuate the misery of the banished Emperor? While the scene amuses the audience with its contradiction between the visual image and the spoken account, it highlights his Majesty’s concern for people of vulgar origin, even if he himself is facing hardship. The following are his words: “I’m deeply ashamed before the Gods that I enjoy my privileged status, overlooking the difficult lives of the people.”30 The Emperor in exile creates a meeting point for the top to encounter the bottom. On the contrary, even though Iruka’s palace is compared to the legendary Epang Palace of Emperor Qin Shi Huang in China, it is narrated rather ironically. Perhaps, it is not a flight of imagination that Moriyama connects its splendidness to that of the Tōshōgū Shrine, a holy place deifying Ieyasu for the Tokugawa, known for its overly decorative and magnificent construction.31 The contrast between these two places could be an allusion to the difference between the Emperor and a man of power. The former’s status is inviolable wherever he may be, while the latter’s position is fleeting. The mutual exchange between the Emperor and the commoners is also presented in a comical fashion. Part 3 begins with the enthroned Iruka successively bestowing zuryō (honorary titles) to assembled commoners such as a Shintō priest, boatman, itinerant bonze performer, and bunraku chanter. In return, they sing and dance, and the stage becomes a place for displaying

Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women  177 their repertoire, in an atmosphere that reminds us of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Zuryō is an honorary title appended by the court to vulgar professionals including bunraku chanters and puppeteers.32 Chikugo-​no-​jō (assigned to Takemoto Gidayū) and Echizen-​no-​shōjō (assigned to Toyotake Wakatayū I), for instance, were titles officially endowed by the court. As is indicated in Chapter 3, the tradition is reminiscent of the medieval relationship between the Emperor and itinerant (and in many cases outcast) “artisans,”33 but in the Edo period, zuryō was institutionalized and the application required official procedures as well as contribution.34 For the Emperor and the court, it brought profit, and for professionals (artisans and performers), the title gave them the pride of being acknowledged by the Emperor. However, so many professionals came to privately bestow the title upon themselves (i.e., without the Emperor’s consent) that in 1766 the Edo bakufu, upon the request of the court, strictly forbade self-​bestowal.35 The opening scene of Part 3 parodies the commoners expecting zuryō sales by the fake Emperor, while pointing out the imperial connection to the vulgar. The inversion of the existing order, or values, is not only presented through visible confusion (as indicated above), but also by the transgression of norms. The three blood sacrifices that Moriyama counted in the play are in fact triggered through the violation of taboos: the shooting of a sacred deer, the forbidden love of a young couple, and that of a young woman for a stranger. Among these, Omiwa’s impassioned love for Motome must be considered from a mythical perspective,36 as their story goes back to the legend of Mount Miwa in ancient times. To fully understand the tragedy of this “possessed” woman requires knowledge of this legend. Mount Miwa is located in the Yamato Province. As its name (Yamato, an alias of Japan) suggests, the district is considered to be one of the oldest centers of civilization in the country, neighboring on Yamashiro Province to the north, where Kyoto was developed in the 8th century, and Kawachi Province to the west, where Osaka was constructed in the 16th century.37 The majority of Yamato can be found in the basin around Nara, segregated from surrounding regions by rather high and steep mountains (around 3,000 feet) to the east, west, and south. Mount Miwa, at a height of 1,500 feet, is found to the south of Nara. The gently sloping mountain has been considered sacred and has been identified with a Shintoist deity. The Kojiki (An Account of Ancient Matters, compiled in 712)  records a legend about the mountain, telling of a princess who receives a handsome young man every night. When she becomes pregnant, her parents tell her to find out who he is. So she pins a thread to his clothes. The next morning, she follows it to Mount Miwa and finds out that he is a deity.38 While the story is a variant on the archetypal motif found worldwide of women and transgressions, such as Cupid and Psyche, the legend’s uniqueness can be attributed to another motif in the story. The girl used hemp wound around a hollow ball (odamaki) and attached one end of it to the young man.

178  Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women Hanji succeeds in beautifully visualizing the motif in the lyrical travel interlude by introducing another woman in love with the young man. While Omiwa’s love for Motome is symbolized by the white odamaki and the thread that she tries to tie to him, the young man, with a red odamaki, pins his red thread to the lady. In the play, the relationship between the woman and man in the legend of Miwa is reversed. It is a mysterious lady who visits the man every night.39 With this idea, the plot implies a double transgression. The first transgression is made through Princess Tachibana’s love for Tankai (Motome), as this signifies Iruka’s sister’s betrayal. The other is Omiwa’s love in defiance of the rank difference. As Moriyama says,40 it would not be irrelevant to see the situation as an opposition between the sacred (Princess Tachibana and Tankai’s love) and the profane (Omiwa’s love) –​an opposition that cannot be resolved without the sacrifice of the latter. Transgressing taboos is also found in the dramatic background of Part 2, in which Shibaroku shoots down an extraordinary doe in the sacred precinct of the Kōfukuji Temple in Nara. Later it is revealed that Kamatari, his former master, had ordered him to do so, even though killing a deer is a deadly sin for the Fujiwara and tradition provides that the criminal be executed by ritualistic ishikozume (a kind of lapidation). The plot about ishikozume also derives from an age-​old story about a boy called Sansaku who mistakenly kills a deer in Kōfukuji Temple and is executed. The story goes that if the temple’s bell rings 13 times on a single day, it is in remembrance of the age of the dead boy, who was 13 at the time. The anecdote was also dramatized by Namiki Sōsuke.41 Hanji’s playwriting team, however, retells it in a more political context. To expel the impurities caused by religious violation, someone must stand in the position of the accused, whether it be Shibaroku himself or not. Shibaroku’s killing of his own son in place of Sansaku could therefore be understood, not just as a result of his loyalty (which was in doubt by his master), but also as atonement (in place of Kamatari) for the Fujiwara’s paradoxical sacrifice of the animal, sacred to their own family. Such is Uchiyama’s interpretation of Shibaroku’s shintei (untold intentions).42 In other words, to quote Sugawara, “miserable is the task of lowly servants.” The play also includes other minor figures who violate norms in a comical manner, such as Fukashichi, a fisherman from the Kawachi Province, who crosses the mountains blocking the western end of the Yamato basin. At first sight, his role seems to be that of comic relief, as he is a barefaced man who pays no respect to the fake Emperor Iruka or Kamatari. He is a trickster who disturbs an existing order (however, as noted earlier, he later helps Kamatari by killing Omiwa).43 The most striking cases of transgression against values or the established order can be found, however, in love affairs led by women, exemplified not only by Omiwa but also by Hinadori, who is killed in the act of The Mountains.

Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women  179

Women in Hanji’s play We shall not enter into a detailed analysis of The Mountains here, because there are already two excellent studies about the act in English.44 Instead, we must be satisfied by indicating that the situation Hinadori and Koganosuke are found in constitutes a kind of “prisoner’s dilemma,” because what is at stake is how they cooperate with one another toward their common interest without a means of communication, as they are physically separated by a river. First Koganosuke decides to kill himself, as he knows that accepting Iruka’s summons will lead to dishonored torture on suspicion of treachery. At the same time, he is aware that if Hinadori knows of his death, she will certainly follow him, which would result in the extinction of her family, the Dazai, lineage. When Hinadori, in her turn, is told by her mother, Sadaka, that she must marry Iruka, she wants death. But Sadaka advises her that accepting the demand is the only way to spare the life of Koganosuke, the sole heir of the house of Daihanji. Sadaka, however, finally decides to kill her daughter out of love, for which Hinadori is immensely grateful. Consequently, they must be cautious in realizing their plan, so as not to be noticed by the other side. Meanwhile, father and son of the Daihanji house are thinking the same thing. Different from the typical case in such a dilemma, the most desirable reward for the couple is death (union in the afterlife), while life for both means failure (betrayal to their love) and the survival of either, the second best optimum. The main interest of the act lies in the process of how the two parties unintentionally collaborate, leading to the best but sorrowful solution to the young couple’s love. As Matsuzaki points out, however, the Daijhanji do not behave themselves in the same way as the Dazai. For the father and son, the honor of the samurai precedes care for the son’s lover, while for the mother and daughter, preference is given to love over the continuity of the family. Matsuzaki qualifies the difference as the conflict between the “men’s world” and the “women’s world.”45 Setting the validity of his terminology aside, as Gerstle remarks,46 there is a fundamental opposition, like that of the yin-​yang theory, that provides this act with its archetypal nature. The narrator begins the scene with the following words: Far back in the ancient age of the gods The capital was first founded In the province of Yamato –​ The place behind the mountains –​ Where flows the River Yoshino Between Mount Imo and Mount Se.47 Here, Mount Imo and Mount Se mean Wife Mountain and Husband Mountain, respectively, while the River Yoshino flows on the southern border

180  Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women of the Yamato basin, accentuating the contrast between “this side” and “the other side.” Upon this mythical background, however, Hanji presumably projects a contemporary problem. Researchers indicate that The Mountains could have been inspired by the so-​called Genta affair (Genta sōdō), which took place in 1767. Much like the drama, it concerns the daughter and son of opposing families in the north of Kyoto. Because the daughter did not heed her family’s advice to give up her lover, she was killed by her brother Genta. As both families were of samurai origin, Genta considered his sister’s love affair shameful.48 The incident demonstrates, rather than the severity of samurai ethics, the inclination at the time toward unconstrained love, which was outstanding even among people associated to the ruling class. In truth, it was no exaggeration to say that for the upper class, it was impossible to love someone at one’s will. For them, only three modes of love, or something that resembled love, were possible:  marriage, the buying of a prostitute (by a man), or adultery. By contrast, bunraku authors including Chikamatsu treated not only the illicit love between men and prostitutes, but also the loves of princesses and common women such as Princess Kariya in Sugawara or Konami and Okaru in Chūshingura. In this regard, they were alien to, or at least critical of, the samurai’s Confucianist ethics. Following such traditions, Hanji’s specialty lies in his interest in women who act for love. While loving princesses and girls in the preceding age of bunraku were presented as already in love, Hanji’s counterparts do not hesitate to take action in pursuit of their love. A typical example of this can be seen in the encounter between Hinadori and Koganosuke in Part 1. With the aid of her waiting maids, Hinadori makes approaches to Koganosuke. A moment later, “they tightly embrace each other like a couple of lovebirds, and kiss.”49 The scene also illustrates that, different from the romantic love of the West, their love is marked with sheer sexuality. Hanji apparently had a liking for such bold women, as exemplified by Toki-​ hime (Princess Toki) in The Genji Vanguard, who abandons her father after falling in love with Miura-​no-​suke, and Princess Yaegaki in Japan’s Twenty-​ Four Paragons of Filial Piety, who dares to risk crossing over a frozen lake for her fiancé. Such portraits of women did not remain solely in the playwright’s personal interests. As Moriyama argues, while tragic love in the Genroku era (around 1700) was confined to the pleasure quarters, in the mid-​18th century, the love affairs of young couples spread throughout the outside world (beyond the pleasure quarters), in striking opposition to the patriarchal Japanese family system (Ie), as the Genta affair suggests.50 This situation also reflects the status of working women. Along with the urbanization and development of commercial crop production such as cotton (the surrounding regions of Osaka

Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women  181 including the Yamato Province were famous for cotton), a new category of women at work, that is, employed women, was steadily increasing. Yabuta Yutaka remarks that in the late Edo period, many girls in their teens left their houses and earned wages (which meant that they did not follow pre-​modern, constraining working conditions in exchange for advanced pay), while some of them became skilled workers in their early twenties. Such occasion gave them a chance to “know the world,” before they got married (but he also notes at the other end of this “female workplace” was the world of prostitutes).51 Sakurai Yuki quotes, in this connection, an interesting petition to the authorities made by landowners of the Yamato Province about the loose conducts of female cotton weavers.52 They complained that these women, gaining cash through their work, were beautifully dressed like prostitutes and secretly visited their lovers at night without the permission of their parents and brothers. Although this document is dated from the early 19th century, considering the fact that the Yamato Province had been renowned for cotton production since the late 17th century, this was also certainly the case during the period when Hanji’s play was produced. Admitting that the petition more or less exaggerated the behavior of working women, they remind us of Omiwa, who fights over the good-​looking Motome with another woman (Princess Tachibana). Presumably, it was a quite realistic scene for amorous female employees of the day. During the quarrel with the lady, Omiwa insists on her right to her lover by referring to the supremacy of her carnal memory − the touch of their bodies − over her rival’s:53 Omiwa’s love is, like Hinadori’s, straightforwardly linked to Eros, and she gets all the more excited as Princess Tachibana steals her pleasure (Netarō, a dopey servant, tells Omiwa that a “strange” sound comes from the house of Motome who receives the lady.54 Ah, bunraku’s naturalism!). Omiwa then refutes the lady by saying:  “how dare you love my promised man without permission! Look at the precepts and teachings for women! No book says you can do anything like that!”55 Omiwa, however, is teased by the sexually frustrated maids of Princess Tachibana in Iruka’ palace and made fun of for her ignorance of high society. She thus ruthlessly faces the “world” outside of her own and is killed. This small scene also reflects an aspect of the female workplace of the day; it was possibly a forerunner of plays about lady maids in the feudal lord’s house, which we shall mention in the next chapter. As for the womanly virtues, various precepts for women were published in the Edo period. Among them, the most famous was The Great Learning for Women (On’na daigaku), which appeared in the 18th century. Based on Confucianist teachings, it stresses the obedience of women to their parents and husbands and their devotion to domestic work and child rearing. It also contains excerpts from literary works and practical knowledge such as pharmacy and cooking and was used as a handbook of female everyday life.

182  Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women Textbooks for Women’s Learning (On’na imagawa or On’na teikin), on the other hand, referred to a group of textbooks used in the terakoya schools for women to learn literacy.56 They also included some teachings and practical knowledge. In modern times, these precepts from the Edo period, which requested subordination from women, were generally considered reactionary. Yokota Fuyuhiko, however, finds that the historical implications of The Great Learning for Women were not so simple.57 According to him, the book reflects the perplexion of Confucianist society in face of the diversified female workers of the early modern period. He argues that if male authors represented by Ihara Saikaku58 tended to see working women who were unbound to their Ie (the patriarchal family system) as prostitute-​like beings for their economic independence (remember the above-​cited petition which compared female weavers to prostitutes), The Great Learning, or a male dominant society, taught female workers to observe womanly virtues if they did not want to be seen as such. This conversely suggests that not all working women followed these teachings. In the Edo period, (unconstrained) love was not only scandalous but could also be considered rebellious against the patriarchal regime. Mount Imo and Mount Se is a political play in the sense that Eros is not given a proper place in the male struggle for power. Hinadori and Omiwa’s preference for love is neglected, and is incorporated, conveniently and retrospectively, into a man’s cause: the grand design to restore the Emperor. The play is not so much about the fight against the great Evil as the confrontation of Eros and politics in the mythical world of the Yamato basin, isolated from surrounding regions –​in other words, an allegorical fairytale of another world. Following historical fact, however, it is significant that in the final part, the Emperor moves the capital out of the basin as if waking up from a nightmare. In May 1771 (the 4th month of Meiwa 8), three months after the premiere of Mount Imo and Mount Se, a massive pilgrimage to Ise Shrine (okagemairi) suddenly took place, involving about 2,000,000 commoners. It started with female and child laborers in tea farms in the south of Yamashiro Province and spread over surrounding regions including Kyoto, Nara, and Osaka, becoming a nationwide phenomenon.59 People sang and danced and were offered free food and lodging out of benevolence as they made their way toward the largest Shintoist shrine in the country. Okagemairi, which somewhat resembles the “dancing mania” (St. John’s Dance) in medieval Europe, occurred in the Edo period almost every 60 years (it was possibly related to the Chinese sexagenary cycle). The one during the Meiwa era (in 1771) was far greater in scale than any that had preceded it. While its cause remains obscure, it was for certain an expression of mass discontent, not to say a rebellion. We cannot assume a direct connection between the play and the phenomenon, but if we understand the word Eros as the primordial power that emancipated people from social constraints, albeit on temporary terms, we can see in both the event and the play a manifestation of this great energy.

Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women  183

Notes 1 As noted, Yoshimune held power as the retired shogun up to his death, even though his son Ieshige succeeded him. 2 His stipend was finally upgraded to 57,000 koku in 1785. 3 Ōishi Shinzaburō (1977, p. 213). 4 This was Yanagisawa Yoshiyasu (1659–​ 1714), about whom Chikamatsu Monzaemon made a satire in The Sagami Lay Monk and the Thousand Dogs. He was promoted from a vassal of 500 koku to a feudal lord of 80,000 koku. 5 It must be noted that Yoshimune also used inner circles similar to sobayōnin, especially in his later years. 6 Fujita (2012, p. 63, Table 1). See also Tsuji (1991, p. 461). 7 Fujita (2012, p. 88). 8 Tsuji (1991, p. 460). 9 Fujita (2012, pp. 98–​99). 10 Uchiyama (1989, p. 460). 11 For the Takeda imprisonment affair, see Mitamura Engyo (1999, p. 92). 12 Ibid. 13 Kurata Yoshihiro (2013, p. 49). 14 Uchiyama (1989, p. 457). 15 He has also been known as Hozumi Ikan. Today, Japanese researchers unanimously call him Koretsura. 16 Concerning this problem, see ibid., pp. 423–​456. We find the most consistent analysis of the play in Hashimoto (2012). 17 Chikamatsu Hanji and Takemoto Saburobei (1979). The English title is ours. The original title is Tenjiku Tokubei sato no sugatami. 18 Namiki Shōza (1986). The English title is ours. The original title is Tenjiku Tokubei kikigaki ōrai. As for a study of two plays about Tenjiku Tokubei, see also Hino Tatsuo (1991). 19 Chikamatsu Hanji (1987b). The English title is ours. The original title is Yamashiro no kuni chikushō zuka. 20 Historically, this refers to Toyotomi Hidetsugu (1568–​1595), Hideyoshi’s nephew who was forced to kill himself after Hideyoshi had a son in his later years. 21 Chikamatsu Hanji and Tekemoto Saburobei (1979, p. 70). 22 Hara (1987, p. 465). 23 Chikamatsu Hanji (1987a). The English title is ours. The original title is En-​no-​ gyōja Ōmine zakura. 24 Another translation of the title is Mt. Imo and Mt. Se:  An Exemplary Tale of Womanly Virtue by Gerstle et al. (1990). However, we adopt the present English title by Jones for the sake of our discussion (Jones, 2013). 25 For an English account of other minor authors who collaborated on the play, see Jones (2013, p. 48). 26 Moriyama Shigeo (1983, p. 345). 27 Hashimoto (2012, p. 391). 28 Uchiyama (1989, p. 470). 29 According to Uchiyama, the legend that the Emperor Tenji once wandered as a beggar was widely spread throughout bunraku plays in the 18th century. Ibid., p. 469. 30 Chikamatsu Hanji (2002, p. 361). The translation is ours. 31 Moriyama (1983, p. 338).

184  Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women 32 Concerning the bestowal of zuryō to bunraku chanters and puppeteers, see Yasuda Fukiko (1967, pp. 591–​650). 33 As noted in Chapter 3, artisans in medieval times included merchants, performers, and even prostitutes. 34 Fujita (2018, p. 208). 35 Ibid. 36 In Japanese, the prefix “o” transmits a feeling of politeness. Consequently, her original name is Miwa. 37 It must be noted that Kawachi Province was home to the capital in ancient times, Naniwa-​no-​miya, which corresponds to present-​day Osaka City. 38 Kurano Kenji (1963, p. 101). The Nihon shoki (The Chronicles of Japan, compiled in 720)  contains a variant of this story, in which the husband (deity) of the princess is found to be a small serpent. See Sakamoto Tarō et al. (1994, Vol. 1, p. 292). 39 The idea comes from the Noh play Miwa, in which an ascetic monk finds a woman to be an incarnation of the deity of Mount Miwa. 40 Moriyama (1983, p. 338). 41 Sōsuke’s work (in collaboration with Yasuda Abun) is titled Nanto Jūsangane (Thirteen Rings of the Bell in Nara, 1728). Namiki Sōsuke and Yasuda Abun (2011). The English title is ours. 42 Uchiyama (1989, pp. 477–​478). 43 Moriyama finds another figure of the trickster in Netarō, a dopey servant in a sake shop, who informs Omiwa of the lady that Motome is seeing. See Moriyama (1983, p. 336). 44 See Gerstle et al. (1990, Chapter 2) and Jones (2013, p. 47). 45 Matsuzaki (1994, p. 318). 46 Gerstle et al. (1990, p. 19). 47 Jones (2013, p. 53). 48 Takada Mamoru (1995, p. 596). 49 Chikamatsu Hanji (2002, p. 320). The translation is ours. 50 Moriyama (1983, p. 331). 51 Yabuta (1996, pp. 199–​214). 52 Sakurai Yuki (1993, p. 125). 53 Chikamatsu Hanji (2002, p. 425). 54 Ibid., p. 418. 55 Ibid., p. 426. The translation is ours. 56 Concerning Textbooks for Women’s Learning and the latest study of the play, see Higashi Harumi (2020, pp. 24–26). 57 Yokota (1995, pp. 363–​387). 58 Saikaku (1642–​1693) was the author of amorous stories such as The Life of an Amorous Woman. 59 For okagemairi, see Fujitani Toshio (1993).

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Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women  185 —​—​—​. 1987b. “Yamashiro no kuni chikushō zuka [A Tomb for the Beast in Yamashiro Province].” Annotated by Aoyama Hiroyuki. In Chikamatsu Hanji Gikyokushū [Collected Plays of Chikamatsu Hanji], Vol. 1. Tokyo: Kokusho kankōkai. —​—​—​. 2002. “Imoseyama on’na teikin [Mount Imo and Mount Se:  Precepts for Women].” Annotated by Hayashi Kumiko and Inoue Katsushi. In Jōrurishū [Collected Plays of Bunraku]: 309–​455. Shinpen Nihon koten bungaku zenshū [New Edition of Japanese Classic Literature], Vol. 77. Tokyo: Shōgakukan. Chikamatsu Hanji and Takemoto Saburobei. 1979. Tenjiku Tokubei sato no sugatami [A Mirror in the Home of Tenjiku Tokubei]. Tokyo: Kokuristu Gekijō Geinō Chōsashitsu [National Theater, Research Office of Performing Arts]. Fujita Satoru. 2012. Tanuma jidai [The Tanuma Period]. Tokyo: Yoshikawakōbunkan. —​—​—​. 2018. Edojidai no Ten-​nō [The Emperor in the Edo Period]. Tokyo: Kōdansha. Fujitani Toshio. 1993. ‘Okagemairi’ to ‘Eejanaika’ [The Japanese Mass Pilgrimages of ‘Okagemairi’ and ‘Eejanaika’]. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. Gerstle, C. Andrew, Inobe Kiyoshi and Wiiliam P. Malm. 1990. Theatre as Music. The Bunraku Play “Mt. Imo and Mt. Se: An Exemplary Tale of Womanly Virtue.” Ann Arbor: University of Michigan. Hara Michio. 1987. “Sōsetsu [Overview].” In Chikamatsu Hanji Gikyokushū [Collected Plays of Chikamatsu Hanji], Vol. 1. Tokyo: Kokusho kankōkai. Hashimoto Osamu. 2012. Jōruri wo yomou [Let’s Read Bunraku Pieces]. Tokyo: Shinchōsha. Higashi Harumi. 2020. “Imoseyama on’na teikin: edochūki no ten-no kan to kugebunka [Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women: Views on the Emperor and the aristocratic culture in the mid-Edo period]”. In Musashino daigaku nihon bungaku kenkyūjo kiyō [Bulletin of Japanese Literature Study Center, Musashino University], Vol.8:18–29. Available as e-text: ttp://id.nii.ac.jp/1419/00001091/. Hino Tatsuo. 1991. “Kinsei bungaku ni arawareta ikokuzō [Images of Foreign Countries Reflected in Early Modern Literature].” In Nihon no kinsei: sekaishi no nakano kinsei [The Japanese Early Modern Period: The Early Modern Period Seen in World History] Vol. 1: 265–​304, edited by Asao Naohiro. Tokyo: Chūōkōronsha. Jones, Stanleigh H. Jr., trans. & annot. 2013. “Mount Imo and Mount Se:  Precepts for Women. The Mountains.” In The Bunraku Puppet Theatre of Japan: 47–​75. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press. Kurano Kenji, annot. 1963. The Kojiki [An Account of Ancient Matters]. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. Kurata Yoshihiro. 2013. Bunraku no rekishi [A History of Bunraku]. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. Matsuzaki Hitoshi. 1994. “Yamanodan no kōzō [The Structure of ‘The Mountains’].” In Kabuki, Jōruri, Kotoba [Kabuki, Bunraku and Words]: 304–​319. Tokyo:  Yagi shoten. Mitamura Engyo. 1999. “Takeda hachidai [The Eight Generations of the Takeda].” Edited by Asakura Haruhiko. In Engyo Edo Bunko [Engyo’s Writings about the Edo Period], Vol. 33: 80–​106. Tokyo: Chūōkōronsha. Moriyama Shigeo. 1983. Jōruri no shōuchū [The Microcosm of Bunraku]. Tokyo: San’ichi shobō. Namiki Shōza. 1986. “Tenjiku Tokubei kikigaki ōrai [A Reader of the Hearsay about Tenjiku Tokubei].” Annotated by Matsudaira Susumu. In Kabukidaichō Shūsei [Collection of Kabuki Scripts], Vol. 10: 220–​374, edited by Kabukidaichō kenkyūkai. Tokyo: Benseisha.

186  Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women Namiki Sōsuke and Yasuda Abun. 2011. Nanto Jūsangane [Thirteen Rings of the Bell in Nara]. Gidayū Jōruri mihonkoku sakuhin shūsei [Collection of Unpublished Works of Bunraku Texts], Vol. 17, supervised by Torigoe Bunzō and edited by Gidayūshōhon kankōkai. Tokyo: Tamagawa University Press. Ōishi Shinzaburō. 1977. Edo jidai [The Edo Period]. Tokyo: Chūōkōronsha. Sakurai Yuki. 1993. “Mabiki to datai [Birth Control by Killing Newborn Babies and Abortion].” In Nihon no kinsei:  Josei no kinsei [The Japanese Early Modern Period:  Women in the Early Modern Period], Vol. 15: 97–​128, edited by Hayashi Reiko. Tokyo: Chūōkōronsha. Sakamoto Tarō, Ienaga Saburō, Inoue Mitsusada and Ōno Susumu, annot. 1994. The Nihon Shoki [The Chronicles of Japan]. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. Takada Mamoru. 1995. “Nishiyama Monogatari kaisetsu [Notes on A Story of Nishiyama].” In Shinpen Nihon koten bungaku zenshū [New Edition of Japanese Classic Literature], Vol. 78: 595–​599. Tokyo: Shōgakukan. Tsuji Tatsuya. 1991. “Politics in the Eighteenth Century,” In The Cambridge History of Japan, Vol. 4: 425–​477. Translated by Harold Bolitho. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Uchiyama Mikiko. 1989. Jōrurishi no jūhasseiki [The 18th Century in the History of Bunraku]. Tokyo: Bensei shuppan. Yabuta Yutaka. 1996. Joseishi toshiteno kinsei [The Early Modern Period Seen as a History of Women]. Tokyo: Azekura shobō. Yasuda Fukiko. 1967. “Kinsei zuryōkō:  jōruritayū no zuryō wo chūshin to shite [A Study of Zuryō in the Early Modern Period: Focusing on the Bestowal of Zuryō to Bunraku Chanters].” In Kojōruri shōhonshū [Collection of Early Bunraku Texts], Vol. 6: 591–​650. Tokyo: Kadokawa shoten. Yokota Fuyuhiko. 1995. “On’na daigaku saikō:  nihon kinsei ni okeru josei rōdō [A Reconsideration of The Great Learning for Women: Women’s Works in the Early Modern period].” In Gender no nihonshi [Gender and Japanese History], Vol. 2: 363–​387, edited by Wakita Haruko and Susan S. Hunley. Tokyo: University of Tokyo Press.

9  Travel Game while Crossing Iga Individuality on the margin of society

Travel Game while Crossing Iga, Hanji’s last masterpiece, invites us to see the playwright’s uniqueness in treating the narration and puppets, by which he depicts characters on the border of the samurai community. In fact, Hanji was obliged to reflect on what puppet theatre could do in its own right, as bunraku at the time found itself in severe competition with kabuki. Ironically, the play was an adaptation of a kabuki play treating the disorder of a feudal lord’s household and a subsequent revenge affair. While the kabuki play highlights the avengers’ romantic adventures, the bunraku piece focuses on the itineraries of the characters en route to their revenge.

Bunraku becomes a classic Hara Michio counts that over 350 pieces of bunraku premiered in the 41 years between 1751 and 1791 –​approximately nine plays a year on average. Out of these plays, about 250 texts exist today. Meanwhile, those from the preceding seven years (the peak of bunraku from 1744 to 1750) number about 50, or seven plays per year, however, almost all of the texts have been preserved to the present.1 Statistically speaking, bunraku remained productive in the late 18th century, however, its stagnancy was marked by others indices. First was the tendency for midori (selective) representation; this means the partial staging of a play, excerpting only the most renowned acts from the original text. While selective representation is commonly seen in present-​ day bunraku and kabuki theatre, the practice first appeared in the 1750s and became notable in the following decade. According to Uchiyama, cases from the late 1760s illustrate the difficulties of both the Takemoto-​za and Toyotake-​ za companies, since full representations of a history play, which was a whole day’s business, required robust finances as well as superb organization in managing chanters, puppeteers, and shamisen players.2 Second was the revival of Chikamatsu’s plays. Although Chikamatsu’s works inspired subsequent generations by providing source materials, they had remained off-​stage since their premieres. The biggest reason for this was that they were made for puppets manipulated by single puppeteers, with relatively poor musical accompaniment (the most attractive trait of Chikamatsu’s

188  Travel Game while Crossing Iga plays lay in their beautifully composed verse). It is generally admitted that by Hanji’s time, the three-​man puppets that we see today were already in practice and shamisen playing techniques, which endow puppet characters with emotional nuances, were further developed. Hanji is known to have been in close collaboration with the shamisen player Tsurusawa Bunzō I (or Tsurusawa Tomojirō II: birth year unknown to 1805)  when he wrote Mount Imo and Mount Se. Their joint work came to perfection in The Mountains Act, in which words and music are exquisitely intermingled. It was consequently only natural that bunraku practitioners, especially puppeteers and shamisen players, were tempted to re-​interpret the masterpieces of the past with their sophisticated skills. Kurata Yoshihiro lists the plays of Chikamatsu revived from the 1750s to the 1770s, after an interval of several decades.3 Among them, the best known are Love Suicides on the Eve of the Kōshin Festival (1722) revived in 1775 and The Love Suicides at Amijima (1720) revived in 1778. The latter was remade by Hanji into Love Suicide of Kamiya Jihei. It could be said that the major plays by Chikamatsu with which we are familiar today were “re-​invented” during this period, as far as musical composition and puppet manipulation are concerned. The renewal of Chikamatsu’s plays was not limited to Hanji and those at the Takemoto-​za. Suga Sensuke (years of birth and death unknown), Hanji’s rival for some time, joined the Toyotake-​za in 1761 as a chanter and later became a playwright. He retouched Chikamatsu’s The Courier for Hell (Meido no hikyaku, 1711), changing the title into The Amorous Courier for a Courtesan (Keisei koi Bikyaku, 1773).4 The play has been long considered as the better stage adaptation of Chikamatsu’s text. In fact, it was Sensuke who introduced the trend of remaking past sewa-​mono domestic plays when he adapted a love suicide play by Kino Kaion (about the famous double suicides of Osome and Hisamatsu in the early 18th century) for the Toyotake Konokichi-​za in 1767;5 it brought great box office success to the newly inaugurated theatre in Kitahorie, which had succeeded the Toyotake-​za. The third point, which is relevant to the above observations, is the proliferation of bunraku amateurs through the elaboration of shamisen playing. Around 1780, Tsurusawa Seishichi I (or Tsurusawa Tomojirō III: 1748−1826) invented notations for the shamisen, adding red marks (shu) to the bunraku text; not only did it facilitate the preservation and transmission of existing compositions, but it also allowed laymen to access bunraku chanting with shamisen accompaniment. Kurata calls attention to the fact that between 1781 and 1801, the number of amateurs sharply increased, quoting an ironical observation about people exercising bunraku chanting with shamisen, as if they were leading chanters (tayū).6 Presumably, they were like today’s youth, mad for rock music and playing the guitar. Furuido Hideo points out that for both professionals and amateurs, this phenomenon in turn accelerated the tendency to practice a particular act or scene favored within the whole play, furthering midori (partial) representation.7

Travel Game while Crossing Iga  189 However, bunraku’s greatest dilemma was that, as a result of its heated rivalry with kabuki, the borderline between the puppet theatre and the theatre of flesh and blood became ambiguous. It is true that kabuki had eagerly adapted successful bunraku plays since the age of Chikamatsu. A close study by Imao Tetsuya indicates that kabuki’s method of adaptation evolved from the simple introduction of bunraku storylines and characters to faithful imitation, and finally to full-​scale adaptations of the original text, developing the characters words as contained in narration to dialogue and transforming descriptive narrations into stage directions where possible.8 There existed, conversely, instances where bunraku, in its matured stage, was influenced by kabuki. As noted earlier, a typical example of this was Part 7 of Chūshingura, inspired by kabuki actor Sawamura Sōjūrō who played the drunken Yuranosuke. It is likely that the leading puppeteer at the time, Yoshida Bunzaburō I (birth year unknown to 1760), found the act of copying Sōjūrō’s acting with a puppet challenging. By contrast, the bunraku of Hanji’s generation was in more severe competition with kabuki since the latter had steadily caught up with the puppet play in terms of dramaturgy, and in some aspects had surpassed bunraku: not only did it invent such devices as the revolving stage (Namiki Shōza’s ingenuity!), traps, and quick role changes, but human actors are more “realistic” than stereotyped puppet characters, even if the puppets are animated by dexterous puppeteers. A Daring Girl Fired with Love (Datemusume koino higanoko, 1773)9 by Suga Sensuke treats a reckless girl who climbs up the ladder of a fire lookout tower to alert her lover of a great fire. The play is famous for the heroine shinning up the tower with puppeteers hidden behind. The scene is significative in that it delimits the puppet play’s possibilities; while the clumsy climbing of a puppet is the best media for communicating the madness of a girl in love, it must be realized with the puppeteers hidden, an exception in bunraku. As for Hanji, he tried to match kabuki in spectacular effects and further overdo it in realism. Over time, his plays approached a theatre made principally of dialogue. Yokoyama Tadashi compares a scene of The Mountains with its kabuki adaptation and finds there is little difference between them as the narrative part is minimized in Hanji’s play. He also indicates that the same is true for Hanji’s A New Edition of the Osome-​Hisamatsu Ballad (Shinpan utazaimon, 1780),10 another version of the famous lovers’ double suicides, because the kabuki script is a de facto literal transcription of the bunraku original.11 When bunraku and kabuki resemble each other, it leads to an essential question:  what does the puppet play do, if all of its elements could be transplanted to another genre, including its story, characters, music, chanting, and even narration –​and when the other genre is more appealing in terms of human expression? (As a side note, the same question may be relevant to the distinction between a live action movie and its animated counterpart). Hanji’s swan song, Travel Game while Crossing Iga (Igagoe dōchū sugoroku, 1783),12

190  Travel Game while Crossing Iga gives us some insight in this regard, as it is an adaptation of a kabuki play that recorded great success. Although Hanji’s bunraku adaptation was later re-​ introduced into kabuki, a comparison of these two plays suggests the ultimate point about the politics in bunraku that the playwright explored. However, before entering into an analysis of the plays, we must consider a contingent political issue, which became popular in the late 18th century: the disturbance of a feudal lord’s household (oi’e sōdō), because discussing its development both in reality and theatre is necessary for understanding how Hanji incorporated this theme into his play.

Oi’e sōdō and the popular imagination Like the Chūshingura narratives, there was a considerable gap between the actual disturbance of a feudal lord household in reality and that as propagated among the people by way of jitsuroku (factual records) and theatre. Internal conflicts within feudal lord households were matters to be treated confidentially and there was no room for commoners to be concerned with such affairs. Rumors spread, however, and fueled the imaginations of the people. In this connection, we must remember that commoners were recruited as waiting maids to the inner quarters of a feudal lord’s household (oku: ladies chamber, including the lord’s wife, consorts, and lady maids) and some commoner parents sent their daughters voluntarily so that they could learn the manners of high society and by chance, possibly gain a position as the lord’s concubine (the Shogun Yoshimune’s mother, by the way, is known to have been of humble status). The causes of household disorders were varied and changed in nature throughout the ages. The famous oi’e sōdōs, such as the ones that happened in the Fukuoka domain (the Kuroda sōdō) and the Sendai domain (the Date sōdō) in the early 17th century,13 were caused in the process of “civilizing” the samurai, through the conflict between lords and powerful retainers who insisted on their independence, an inheritance from the Age of Warring States. From the late 17th century, disturbances came to be related to the specific structure of feudal lord households. The house (Ie) was considered by retainers not as the property of the lord, but as a community for the samurai, a kind of boat in which the lord and his subordinates, including their families, were aboard.14 Therefore, the lord (this was also the case for the shogun) could not exercise absolute power without the consent of influential retainers. They all shared the same fate for surviving in the Tokugawa regime, in which the lord’s succession was of utmost importance, regardless of lineage. If there was more than one candidate for a new lord, however, it often led to a serious dispute among retainers and relatives of the ex-​lord, since the selection would bring about visible winners and losers in terms of the forthcoming new rule. When the trouble spun out of control, it constituted a typical oi’e sōdō; the affair had to then be arbitrated by the bakufu. As the

Travel Game while Crossing Iga  191 shogunal authorities held the power not only to determine the successor to a feudal domain, but to also abolish the domain itself if they considered a feudal household incapable of managing the territory, such situations risked the continuity of a samurai community. Another source of household conflicts was the predilection of a feudal lord for a particular retainer (incidentally, it was not rare in the early 17th century for such a preference to be the result of a homosexual relationship between the lord and a young vassal); if the lord elevated the rank and stipend of the person in question, it would disturb the organized hierarchy of retainers accordingly. While this tendency was already visible in the 17th century, it engendered serious problems in the next century when the financial difficulties of feudal domains necessitated radical reforms. As we have indicated in the previous chapter, some feudal lords who were wise enough to see their problems (there were many others who were only ornamental within the ruling system) took the initiative of promoting competent but low-​ranking vassals. This generated strong antipathy from important retainers, hence engendering an oi’e sōdō. The affair of the Kaga domain (Kaga sōdō) in the early 18th century, which was one of the three major feudal household disorders along with the abovementioned Kuroda sōdō and Date sōdō, resulted from this type of conflict. Influential chief retainers, however, also had a weapon of last resort –​the enforced retirement of the lord (shukun oshikome), that is, an in-​house coup d’état by the vassals. Tokugawa Muneharu of the Owari domain, whom we introduced in Chapter  6, was an opponent of Yoshimune’s policy and was possibly driven to retire in such fashion at the instigation of the shogun. Hachisuka Shigeyoshi (1738−1801), on the other hand, was an adopted lord of the Awa domain (located on the other side of Osaka Bay) who eagerly and rather despotically tried to improve the lamentable management of the territory. However, in 1769 the bakufu ordered him to retire at the age of 32, after a decade-​long struggle with the chief retainers. As Kasaya Kazuhiko argues,15 there were also other instances of enforced retirement for lords, although not all of them were related to reform (the maneuver could also work as a last measure to stop the lord’s tyranny). In the end, a top-​down organizational management was impossible in this country. These facts are known in the present thanks to the research of historians. In the Edo period, by contrast, news of oi’e sōdō were transmitted through unreliable sources: hearsay, handwritten copies of dubious records circulated underground, and exaggerated representations on stage. They were biased by the stereotyped dichotomy between faithful retainers and treacherous servants found in the popular imagination. Besides, be it a lord or a vassal, those who tried something new tended to be seen as evil in conservative samurai societies. It was kabuki, rather than bunraku, that had favored the theme since the late 17th century. As Kawatake Toshio explains, the greatest reason for this was that after both female kabuki (on’na kabuki) and boys kabuki (wakashū

192  Travel Game while Crossing Iga kabuki), with their excessively erotic taste, were banned, the kabuki stage had to be founded on a certain realism in acting.16 Thus, kabuki found its materials for realistic representation in oi’e sōdō, because it not only offered an enigmatic story, but also allowed for a lavish scene of the pleasure quarters as an interlude. However, we must distinguish plays treating an imaginary (or generic) household trouble (oi’e-​mono) from those with recognizable (or specific) allusions to a particular trouble (oi’e sōdō-​mono). The former were commonly seen in kabuki plays in the Genroku era (up to the early 18th century), while the latter appeared in the late 18th century and some transitional stages also existed between the two. Chikamatsu’s kabuki plays are typical examples of oi’e mono. The Courtesan on the Buddha Plain (Keisei hotoke no hara, 1699), which recorded a huge success through its star kabuki player Sakata Tōjūrō I (1647−1709), treats the story of a lord’s heir challenged by his evil brother. As a result of his brother’s conspiracy, the hero is once banished by his father before he is restored to his legitimate position. In the meantime, he faces hardship, a love affair, and mystery. Following such a model, kabuki made use of oi’e sōdō as a patterned plot structure featuring actors playing stereotyped scenes. While kabuki shockers with topical references did appear sporadically before the late 18th century, the link between the disturbance on stage and real affairs remained limited in scope, for direct reference to the rulers and their contemporary affairs was forbidden. Around 1760, a series of plays that could be qualified as oi’e sōdō-​mono (a type of play alluding to a particular disorder of a feudal lord household) were tried both in bunraku and kabuki. Fukuda Chizuru points out that this development was most likely related to the rise in popularity of jitsuroku (factual records) treating oi’e sōdō from the late 18th century.17 In 1768, the Takemoto-za produced The Courtesan and the Swirling Waters of the Naruto Strait in Awa (Keisei Awa no naruto)18 before its temporary closure due to a financial scandal. Hanji’s playwriting team completely remade Chikamatsu’s foregoing work with the same title, merging it with another of his plays. The production was apparently related to the abovementioned trouble of the Awa domain involving Hachisuka Shigeyoshi. Today the play is known for Part 8, in which a little pilgrim girl from Awa encounters her mother in Osaka after a long separation. Neither knows who the other is. After the mother has recognized her daughter, the poor girl is mistakenly killed by her father (Jūrobei) in pursuit of his mission, unknowing of her identity. The entire play, on the other hand, treats a lord in Awa (he was not the actual lord of Awa in real life, but strongly reminiscent of him) who indulges himself in a love affair with a courtesan while an evil retainer plans to seize power. Jūrobei is a former vassal of Awa who, disgraced through wrongful accusation as a robber, helps a faithful retainer supporting the Awa lord. As the synopsis shows, the play is still bound within the established pattern of household troubles in kabuki. The production was not suspended by

Travel Game while Crossing Iga  193 the authorities, presumably because there was no specific allusion to Lord Hachisuka or his conservative retainers. Besides, defamatory literature accusing the lord of Awa as a “bad” ruler had spread since 1766, as if to forebode the bakufu’s subsequent decision.19 In 1771, just after the success of Mount Imo and Mount Se, Hanji and his team produced another play treating a feudal household disorder, The Palace of Cherry Trees Featuring 53 Stations (Sakura goten gojūsantsugi).20 This time, they targeted the disorder of the shogunal household, or the reputed conspiracy of Yanagisawa Yoshiyasu (1659–​1714), who made a remarkable ascent to sobayōnin (lord chamberlain) under the protection of the Shogun Tsunayoshi (1646–​1709). While the play was deliberately camouflaged as the story of the Ashikaga shogunate in the 15th century, researchers point out that it borrowed plots from various versions of jitsuroku depicting the political struggle in Tsunayoshi’s inner circle.21 Yanagisawa had given his daughter to the shogun as his concubine − so tell these stories − however, the shogun’s wife kills Tsunayoshi in order to stop his degenerated rule. Historians indicate that the so-​ called Yanagisawa sōdō (Yanagisawa trouble) was the invention of jitsuroku writers and that there is no evidence of Yanagisawa’s plot or the assassination of the shogun by his wife.22 It is no exaggeration to say that the trouble was produced by the scandalous journalism of those days. In the play, Yanagisawa becomes Iwami Tarōzaemon who is elevated from a humble falconer to an influential lord by the Shogun Ashikaga Yoshimasa. Iwami offers his wife to the concupiscent master. Meanwhile, Yoshimasa’s wife, prompted by a lord allied with the court, tries to kill the shogun in vain and is killed by Iwami. Finally, Iwami is revealed to be the son of a rebel who had been annihilated by the shogunate, and he kills himself. The greatest problem of the play lies in the ambiguity of its focal point; is it an exposure of the private life of the shogun or a remote allusion to the corruption of Tanuma, another remarkable sobayōnin of the day, or as Uchiyama suggests,23 a criticism of the legitimacy of the shogunal regime? Admitting that Hanji’s plays are extremely elaborate, this piece reveals the difficulty of bunraku to narrate a contemporary event in the historical past. As a matter of fact, kabuki proved that it was the more fitted media for constructing oi’e sōdō-​mono, or plays with allusions to particular troubles. In 1777, the kabuki playwriting team led by Nagawa Kamesuke, whom we shall introduce in the following section, produced The Precious Incense and Autumn Flowers of Sendai (Meiboku Sendai hagi) in Osaka treating the Date sōdō, which took place in the Sendai domain. While the trouble had been staged in kabuki several times since 1713,24 the plays had remained indirect allusions to the affair. Kamesuke realized a full-​scale dramatization of the purported trouble, with a famous scene in which a faithful lady maid (Masaoka) protects a little heir of the lord from a scheme to poison him. Kamesuke also made the Kaga sōdō into a kabuki play in 1780 in Kyoto.25 It was then adapted into bunraku in 1782 in Edo as Mirror Mountain:  A

194  Travel Game while Crossing Iga Woman’s Treasury of Loyalty (Kagamiyama kokyō no nishiki’e), which was a rough mixture of the abovementioned The Palace of Cherry Trees and Kamesuke’s play about the Kaga sōdō (the first half of the play is a transcription of the former, followed by the theme of oi’e sōdō).26 This play was in turn brought back to kabuki the following year and further elaborated as a kabuki play known today as Kagamiyama. Such interaction between kabuki and bunraku illustrates how low the barrier between them really was during this period. The play features the rivalry of two lady maids − the good maid Onoe and the evil maid Iwafuji − involved in the household disturbance. Both plays, which now represent oi’e sōdō-​mono, are known for scenes where female characters are on the front stage. This is significant considering the fact that the inner quarters (oku or ladies chamber) of the lord were the only accessible points for commoners to catch a glimpse of what was actually happening in a feudal household. Besides, a realistic representation of female characters, especially including a vivid and minute study of their psychology, is the specialty of kabuki, if not to say that it cannot be staged as bunraku. Finally, if bunraku could not produce a remarkable oi’e sōdō-​mono, except for some problematic works (such as The Palace of Cherry Trees Featuring 53 Stations by Hanji), it was because bunraku history plays are more suited to creating an allegory or an archetypal image of the world, rather than representing real events. Kabuki, on the other hand, features kaleidoscopic changes based on liveliness, as opposed to the continuity of the narrated story world. In the following, we examine the process by which two playwrights − one kabuki and the other bunraku − treat a situation of oi’e sōdō, leading to completely different observations of the world.

Nagawa Kamesuke and Horse Charge and Cape while Crossing Iga In 1630, a young samurai from the Okayama domain (located about 100 miles west of Osaka) was killed by his colleague, 20-​year-​old Kawai Matagorō, due to unrequited homosexual love.27 Matagorō ran to the house of his father. Then, thanks to his father’s intervention, he succeeded in fleeing all the way to Edo, where he asked for the protection of an influential shogun’s direct vassal, Andō. The lord of Okayama (Ikeda) was indignant at the self-​righteous behavior of Andō and demanded a senior councilor (rōjū) of the bakufu to send Matagorō back to Okayama so that he could kill himself. Andō refused the request, and the conflict was amplified to an opposition between influential feudal lords supporting Ikeda and a party of the shogun’s direct vassals gathered around Andō. It was only 15 years after the fall of Osaka Castle (the advent of peace) and many samurai still possessed the rough spirit of the preceding Age of Warring States. The bakufu was perplexed. However, lord Ikeda suddenly died from illness and the matter was left suspended. In the meantime, the bakufu, to save Ando’s face, secretly released Matagorō. News spread that Matagorō was living, and

Travel Game while Crossing Iga  195 the affair returned to the hands of the most concerned party:  Watanabe Kazuma, the brother of the victim. His colleagues whispered about why he didn’t take revenge on his enemy,28 and so Kazuma left his rank in the domain to start his search. He heard that Matagorō was hiding in the Yamato Province. Fortunately his brother-​in-​law, Araki Mataemon, served a lord in Yamato. Kazuma requested his help, for Mataemon was a renowned swordsman. They sought after Matagorō not only in Nara and Kyoto, but also as far as Edo. Finally in 1634, they found a band protecting Matagorō29 starting from Nara toward Edo. When Matagorō’s company was crossing the town of Ueno, in the Iga Province (neighboring Yamato), four avengers including Kazuma and Mataemon assaulted Matagorō, who was guarded by about 20 people. After a couple hours of hard fighting, Matagorō was killed.30 This revenge of Iga, Ueno, became one of the most famous revenge stories of the Edo period. The affair was not only narrated as a short story by Ihara Saikaku in 1687,31 but it also spread through jitsuroku. As a detailed philological study by Ueno Noriko clarifies,32 the event was first compiled as official documentation just after the revenge affair. Then in the 1670s, it was first fictionalized by an amateur historian living in the Iga Province, and at this point, the story still remained more or less faithful to the event. The second stage of romanticization took place in the 1730s, when the story digressed significantly; the initial conflict between the samurai, for example, is triggered by ownership over a treasured sword, while Mataemon’s leave from his lord is permitted only after he has won a sword fight with his rival. As Ueno indicates, this version (the second version of Sappō tenrinki) was the de facto jitsuroku (purported factual records contatining as much fiction as fact) and was followed by more elaborate versions of kōdan.33 The different versions of the jitsuroku (Sappō tenrinki) were narrated before the audience by kōshakushi (histrionic narrators). The affair was adapted to the kabuki stage in the 1740s, but the dramatization remained anecdotal. A  full-​scale stage adaptation was realized in 1776 as a kabuki play in Osaka, Horse Charge and Cape while Crossing Iga (Igagoe norikake gappa),34 a production that recorded a long-​run of more than four months. The chief playwright, Nagawa Kamesuke (years of birth and death unknown), was a disciple of Namiki Shōza (1730–​1773) and was active in Osaka theatre milieus from the 1760s to the late 1780s. Different from his master, who was not free from the influence of bunraku, Kamesuke was a genuine kabuki playwright, who established the dramaturgy of kabuki history plays modeled after the kōdan. As Nakamura Yukihiko suggests, it is highly likely that Kamesuke, prior to Horse Charge, was inspired by kōdan treating the Iga vengeance as narrated by Yoshida Ippō, a famous kōshakushi of the day.35 The play can be analyzed in three sections following its development: the first section (Parts  1–​6) is largely similar to an oi’e sōdō-​mono, laying the groundwork for the revenge. The middle section (Part  7) is a story about Masaemon, who reveals his intentions of helping the avenger Shizuma. The last section (Part 8 to the final Part 15) treats the avengers’ pursuit of their

196  Travel Game while Crossing Iga enemy and the fulfillment of their revenge. Following the protocols of a history play, the play is set in the Ashikaga period (15th century), while the names of major characters are slightly modified:  Kawai Matagorō becomes Sawai Matagorō, Watanabe Kazuma, Watanabe Shizuma, and Araki Mataemon, Karaki Masaemon. In the first section, the villain rōnin Matagorō, who has been banished from the house of Uesugi,36 is being protected by Shizuma’s father (Yuki’ye). Matagorō acts as an intermediary between Lord Uesugi’s brother, Harutarō, and a high courtesan, Ōhashi. In fact, Ōhashi is Harutarō’s half-​sister (Harutarō is not in love with her, consequently), and a large sum of money is necessary to release her from the pleasure quarters. Matagorō, pretending to free Ōhashi, deceives his friend Shizuma into pawning a fine sword made by Masamune37 that is preserved in his father’s house. The original account of the killer’s homosexual craving was replaced in the play by a desire for a fine sword, possibly because of the fact that in the 18th century, male homosexual culture was gradually oppressed by the authorities and driven to a shady world38 (the plot itself is found, as aforementioned, in the foregoing jitsuroku). In the meantime, a marriage is arranged between Harutarō and the Ashikaga shogun’s daughter, and Lord Uesugi requests the treasured sword to present to the shogun. Yuki’ye (Shizuma’s father), seeing through Matagorō’s plot, is furious and expels him from the house. However, the villain kills Yuki’ye, steals the sword, and runs to his relative Jōgorō’s house. Lord Uesugi gathers his vassals while Jōgorō defends Matagorō with his men, and a battle seems inevitable. However, Matagorō’s mother, Narumi, kills Jōgorō and reveals that he was Uesugi’s enemy in disguise. She then succeeds in letting her son Matagorō escape. Shizuma is then officially ordered by his lord to take revenge for his father. The middle section is set in the pleasure quarters where Masaemon is amusing himself with a courtesan and her entourage. This part is obviously a parody of Part 7 of Chūshingura, in which Yuranosuke indulges in horseplay. Masaemon’s wife, Otane, visits the “bad place” with their child and is confounded by the folly of her husband, because she had been asking Masaemon to help her brother Shizuma’s plan for revenge. However, as long as Masaemon serves a lord different from Shizuma’s, he cannot take action freely. And this is the reason for his idleness. Masaemon’s lord then suddenly appears (we don’t see how such a visit is possible, but kabuki plays admit extravagant developments) to reprimand the swordsman for his negligence toward his service and dismiss him. In fact, the lord had pierced through Masaemon’s shintei (internal thought) and had let him go. The grateful Masaemon and Shizuma start for revenge. The third section consists of Matagorō and his supporters’ scenes of escape, pursued by Masaemon and Shizuma’s company. In this section, the most dramatic is Part 9 where the avengers and the enemy are found in the same inn in Osaka. However, as Shizuma, the only person who can recognize Matagorō, is suffering from an eye disease, the presence of the adversary remains

Travel Game while Crossing Iga  197 unnoticed. Masaemon is told by a doctor that, in order to cure Shizuma, a precious medicine mixed with the fresh blood of a small child is necessary. When Masaemon sees his wife and his little son visiting him, he has an idea; he makes his son believe that he is in fact an adopted child born in the enemy’s family. The son, wishing not to be an obstacle in his father’s revenge affair, commits seppuku. Masaemon thus obtains the blood that Shizuma needs. We should not judge this scene by our present system of values. Like other bunraku (and kabuki) plays in which children are sacrificed, Confucianist ethics determined filial piety as an absolute principle and what is stressed in the play is the pitifulness of the child who makes this decision by himself –​not the cruelty of his father. It is a typical kabuki shūtanba (heartbreaking scene)39 showing the interplay between a dying child, a grieving mother, and a ruthless father (who is actually deeply sorry in his mind). In fact, the play, following the dramaturgy of kabuki, consists of several pre-​set situations, such as a spoiled samurai playing in the pleasure quarters, the rivalry of loving women, a confrontation between opposing parties, and sword fights. Indeed, Horse Charge was conceived for particular actors fixed to their explicit roles: it is known that the role of Masaemon, for example, was written for Nakayama Bunshichi (1732–​1819), a tachiyaku (leading actor) in the Arashi Shichisaburō-​za,40 while Asao Tamejūrō (1735–​1804), a jitsuaku (sheer villain) specialist, played Matagorō and Matagorō’s mother (Narumi).41 As this instance shows, it was common in kabuki for actors to interpret their roles in a play according to their own specialties. In fact, this kabuki piece was composed in order to feature the playing techniques of each actor though such dramaturgy.

Travel Game: a play about endless procedures Observing the success of Horse Charge in 1776, the Toyotake Konokichi-​za theatre transplanted the whole play to the bunraku stage the following year. This tells of the fact that kabuki’s popularity overwhelmed that of bunraku at the time. The Takemoto-za company, as well as Hanji, on the other hand, had remained in a slump after the great hit of Mount Imo and Mount Se in 1771. Then in 1780, Hanji countered with A New Edition of the Osome-​ Hisamatsu Ballad, a remake of a famous double suicide affair. The play was a success,42 and in 1783 he undertook Travel Game while Crossing Iga for the Takemoto Taichi-​za Company organized the year before, the last successor of the Takemoto-​za tradition. However, the play was left unfinished by the author who passed away after he had written the major parts of it, and was completed by one of his disciples. Travel Game is dissimilar to all of Hanji’s foregoing works; confusion about the characters’ identities and the delayed revelation of their intentions, which are major traits of his dramaturgy, are minimized. The play is composed of 10 parts, of which Parts 9 and 10 are thought to have been finished by other hands. As Hashimoto puts it,43 the greatest mystery of the work is that the

198  Travel Game while Crossing Iga audience (and readers) are not sure if it really treats a revenge story. Not only is Part  10’s revenge fight extremely short, the opposition between the good (avengers) and the evil is not found in the foreground, even at the start of the play. As a result, the murderer, Matagorō, is not an extreme villain as in the kabuki version. Shizuma in bunraku, on the other hand, is depicted as a frivolous young samurai who is easily lured by love and drinking. He pawns the treasured sword upon Matagorō’s instigation, because he needs the money to free his beloved courtesan Segawa. While the killing of Shizuma’s father (Yuki’ye) over the precious sword and Jōgorō and his band’s subsequent protection of Matagorō (Parts 3–​4) are roughly the same as the kabuki version, these events do not develop into a serious dispute between the two houses (the Uesugi, lord of the late Yuki’ye and Shizuma, versus the house of Jōgorō and his supporters). Uchiyama attributes the reason for this to her keen observation that the lord of Uesugi (he remains unseen in the bunraku version) wants to stifle the trouble, rendering it to Shizuma’s personal revenge affair and not something that would affect the lord’s prestige. Uchiyama finds that this plot reflects the political principle of “peace-​at-​any-​rate,” to which the rulers clung in the 18th century.44 Parts  4 and 5 tell how Masaemon is allowed to join Shizuma. Different from Horse Charge in which the swordsman is in the pleasure quarters, he must undergo overly formalistic steps to be qualified as an avenger. First, he divorces his wife Otani and remarries her half-​sister who is only seven years old. Why? Because he was united with Otani following their unconstrained love (remember “love” in samurai society was a synonym of adultery) and Otani had consequently been disowned by her father Yuki’ye. Such being the case, as long as Masaemon and Otani are married, he cannot pretend to be related to her brother Shizuma  –​and such relationship is absolutely necessary to take part in revenge. So he chooses a fake marriage with a legitimate daughter born from the late Yuki’ye’s second wife, Shibagaki. He is then purposefully defeated in a sword fight with his colleague in the presence of their lord, Dai’naiki, with the expectation that he would be discharged from service. Because he has newly arrived in the feudal lord’s house after spending years as a rōnin (perhaps he encountered Otani in those days), he has not yet proven himself as an excellent swordsman, and it is easy for him to feign being a poor fighter before the lord. However, the lord penetrates his intentions and promotes him instead. Dai’naiki, like the lord of Uesugi, does not want to instigate trouble by letting Masaemon go. It is only after Shibagaki, the late Yuki’ye’s second wife, has killed herself that Masaemon is released. Shibagaki, by her death, thus succeeds in connecting Masaemon with her son-​in-​law’s revenge affair. Parts  6–​9 provide an itinerary of the avengers in search of their enemy, following stations on the Tōkaidō road connecting Edo and Kyoto (and Osaka). Part 6 (Numazu) and Part 8 (Okazaki) are especially known and are frequently staged (Numazu and Okazaki are names of stations). Masaemon

Travel Game while Crossing Iga  199 and Shizuma move from Edo toward the Iga province (south of Kyoto) where the final confrontation takes place. Their journey reminds us of a board game simulating travel through the Tōkaidō, hence the title of the play.45 Numazu station is found at the skirts of Mount Fuji. It’s late autumn. A young merchant (Jūbei) comes across a wretched old man on a lonely roadside. Jūbei happens to show the old man a favor and is invited by his sober but beautiful daughter (Oyone) to their poor house. Jūbei then notices that Oyone is Segawa, a once renowned courtesan in Edo and moreover, his sister. This means the old man (Heisaku) is his father, from whom he had been separated in his childhood. Unfortunately, Jūbei is working for Matagorō, the enemy, while Oyone takes care of Shizuma, who was wounded in the previous fight with Matagorō. Then Jūbei departs the house leaving a large sum of money; Heisaku follows him, saying that he has no right to accept such a gift. Heisaku, as well as Oyone, in their turn, now recognize who Jūbei is and whom he serves. They want to know the whereabouts of their enemy but can’t, as it would force Jūbei to deceive his lord. So Heisaku suddenly commits seppuku. Jūbei betrays the secret as a farewell to his dying father. Okazaki station is about 120 miles west of Numazu. The season turns to winter and it snows. At the edge of the village, a low-​ranking officer called old Kōbei lives with his wife. There arrives the cured Shizuma accompanied by the daughter of Kōbei, Osode. She had fallen in love with Shizuma at first

Figure 9.1 Dan of Numazu (scene from Travel Game while Crossing Iga). Heisaku (left. Kiritake Kanjūrō, lead puppeteer) and Jūbei (right. Yoshida Kazuo, lead puppeteer). © National Bunraku Theatre.

200  Travel Game while Crossing Iga sight when they chanced upon one another while passing a checking barrier for travelers in the previous part. Shizuma makes Kōbei believe that he is Matagorō, as Kōbei is allied with Matagorō’s party. At midnight, Masaemon appears and tries to evade the station’s barrier (sekisho yaburi). Kōbei finds that Masaemon is his former disciple, to whom he had taught martial arts in his youth, but he does not see who he has become and does not know his new name. Kōbei speaks ill of a man called “Masaemon,” who pursues Matagorō, as his daughter was once engaged to Matagorō. In the meantime, a pilgrim woman with a baby knocks on the door, lost in the snow. As it was forbidden to lodge a traveler in a private house in the Edo period, Kōbei tries to drive the woman away, but he notices the baby has a nametag, indicating that he is Masaemon’s son. The old man rejoices at the idea of taking him hostage to bait the swordsman. Masaemon, knowing that the woman is his former wife Otani, kills his son before Kōbei, blaming his master for alluring a samurai with such a humble trick. Seeing such a sacrifice, Kōbei penetrates the true identity of Masaemon and Shizuma, and gives up being allied with Matagorō. He then lets them go. Part 9 takes place at Fushimi station (in the southern suburbs of Kyoto), and is a remake of Part 9 of Horse Charge. Different from kabuki, however, it is composed of a simple plot in which Shizuma, pretending to be deceived by the enemy’s scheme, makes a counterattack. In its course, Jūbei is severely wounded and before he dies, reveals that Matagorō will escape by way of Iga. Thus, Shizuma and Masaemon wait for the enemy in the final part.

Solitude in Hanji’s plays The great difference between Horse Charge and Travel Game lies firstly in the treatment of the initial conflict. In the kabuki play, Shizuma’s lord allows him to become an avenger as a result of the conflict of two feudal households. The following parts, including Masaemon’s participation, involve a kind of action drama in which the avengers pursue the enemy step by step. In bunraku, by contrast, the opposition of the two parties, which has the potential of developing into an oi’e sōdō, is quenched by the lords’ tactics and is reduced to a personal revenge affair left to be settled by Shizuma and his people. Also different from Chūshingura, in which the dying lord (En’ya) leaves words of wrath to Yuranosuke about his misfortune caused by his enemy, Travel Game allows the victim (Yuki’ye:  the father of Shizuma) no chance to pass his resentment down to his son. On the contrary, Yuki’ye tells Matagorō that he has disinherited Shizuma for his flippancy. He is then killed by Matagorō as if he has met with an accident, while Shizuma also becomes involved in the revenge affair in much the same way. Consequently, the revenge in the play represents neither justice nor honor to be restored. To borrow the words of Hashimoto, it presents the absurd,46 or a disaster that falls upon the people. To go through the revenge, the avengers

Travel Game while Crossing Iga  201 must undergo endless acts brought about by their sense of duty (giri), even if it goes against their humane feelings. Why does Shibagaki, Shizuma’s mother-inlaw and Otani’s stepmother, for example, suddenly appear after Masaemon’s sword match at Dai’naiki’s residence to kill herself ? Because she thinks it necessary, for the honor of her late husband as well as for her son-​in-​law, to involve Masaemon in the revenge, although this necessitates Masaemon’s divorce from Otani. At the same time, Shibagaki knows that Confucianist ethics teaches a mother to be more kind to her stepdaughter (Otani) than her own daughter. Moreover, as the lord Dai’naiki does not release the swordsman, her death is the only event that can break the stalemate. This formalistic way of thinking is the essence of these acts (and was the focus of interest for the audience of the day), and the play unfolds following the deadly conclusions to which the people arrive at after finding themselves in tight corners. Heisaku, the father of Oyone (Segawa) in Numazu is in a similar conflict. He is torn between giri (to help Shizuma’s revenge) and ninjō (affection for his daughter as well as for his reunited son), and he prefers death in order to escape from such incompatibility. However, the most impressive characters suffering from such dilemma are Masaemon and Otani, the couple. Uchiyama suggests that Masaemon, though he is a distinguished swordsman, is of peasant origin.47 In addition, he has spent years as a rōnin before being recruited by lord Dai’naiki. Why does he mercilessly kill his own child in Okazaki? Because he must be more samurai-​like than a samurai, even though he knows that his act is completely inhuman. He, however, cannot put this in his own words. It is Kōbei, his former master, who speaks in his place: But when you killed that child with a single thrust of your dagger and made that splendid declaration about not using a hostage, there was something that you had no way of concealing: the gleam of a single tear that welled up in your eye. It was at that display of tender feelings for your own child that I realized who you are.48 It is this distance between a mute puppet and his sentiment displaced by another voice that makes the situation tragic. In addition, we know that Kōbei is also a petty official nominated among the peasant class, even though he is an esteemed master of martial arts. After having seen the sacrifice, the old man says: “I will no longer be a stubborn supporter of your enemy and return to a peasant.”49 While the sudden appearance of Otani and her baby is, logically speaking, hardly probable in the development of the play, the figure of a mother holding her child in the falling snow seems to visualize her inner voice: “Don’t forget me! I am also attached to the revenge affair (and thus, to Masaemon) even if I am divorced from him!” She belongs to the type of indomitable women, like Toki-​hime and Omiwa, that Hanji created, although her firm resolution causes her a lot of suffering.

202  Travel Game while Crossing Iga Nonetheless, she is deprived, like her former husband, of words to express herself, except for her lamentation over the death of her child. Why? Simply because it was not customary for the Japanese at the time to make others understand them by way of dialectical conversation. Their extreme action is the only way they can manifest their thoughts. Thus, Shibagaki kills herself, followed by Heisaku, while Maseamon and Otani must accept the killing of their child. If we could translate their message, it would be as follows: “We are engaged in the affair in our own right and must thus prove ourselves as honest people in terms of revenge, that is, against the absurdity that has befallen us.” A remarkable point here is that the characters that make these sacrifices are more or less marginalized people. Shibagaki is the second wife of the late Yuki’ye and would have originally had no place in the revenge if she had not committed herself in the affair through her abrupt self-​sacrifice. Heisaku is a beggar-​like old man whose sudden seppuku is the only event that endows him with dignity in his impoverished life. Masaemon is, as mentioned, an upstart samurai whose dishonor is having married Otani through immoral love. It is only after unbearable sacrifice that the swordsman is able to qualify himself as a reliable avenger. The revenge affair for them is certainly an unexpected disaster, however, it gives them the chance to show that they live their fates with sincerity. In addition, the events the good characters must undergo are presented as a travel, which is a metaphor of life. Indeed, Travel Game is a station play like Strindberg’s in which itinerants make their path, across the changing seasons, toward their final destinations. The difference between Travel Game and Chūshingura as revenge plays is that the latter treats a group vendetta. Although the avengers are tossed about by accidents, in the end, they are united by the definite objective of restoring their dead lord’s honor. The people involved in the revenge in Travel Game are, on the other hand, related to one another only incidentally; they are solitary and are requested to make decisions at their own risk. Like in Chūshingura, these “righteous” people are motivated by honesty, however, if the avenger’s credibility in the Akō vendetta is evaluated with regard to achieving their goal, the sincerity of those who make serious sacrifices in Travel Game is proven in another way: how they leave, to the audience, as well as to posterity, the traces of their humble lives, and how they dealt with the sudden change in their existence. While the time setting of the kabuki version (Horse Charge) is clearly in the past, Travel Game is scarcely a history play. It is in fact a contemporary piece that depicts the life of people in the late 18th century. At the same time, it is a distinctively bunraku play with an epic trait (i.e., there are things to be narrated rather than directly presented), befitting representation with puppets. Although the play was adaptable to kabuki (and it did happen like other bunraku plays, and Hanji should have foreseen this), it does not aim to be a “realistic” representation of dramatic events; bloody and often incongruous scenes of self-​sacrifice are more suitable for puppets, because they can materialize the discrepancy between their actions and the privation of verbal expressions, a metaphor for individuals on the margins of 18th century

Travel Game while Crossing Iga  203 society. The dramatic effect made by such alienation of wordless puppets from narrated events is, admitting that we are prone to modernized interpretation, possibly the last message left by Hanji.

Notes

1 2 3 4 5

Hara (1997, pp. 84–​88). Uchiyama (1989, p. 618). Kurata (2013, p. 99). The English title of the latter is ours. The play’s original title is Some moyō imose no kadomatsu, remade from Kaion’s Tamoto no shira shibori. 6 Kurata (2013, p. 90). 7 Furuido Hideo (1992, p. 117). 8 See Imao Tetsuya (2001). 9 The English title is ours. In HD, The Stylish Maid and Love’s Dappled Cloth. 10 The English title is from OC. In HD, The Balladeer’s New Tale. 11 Yokoyama Tadashi (1981, pp. 97–​114). 12 Jones translated the title as Vengeance at Iga Pass, but we adopt the present title found in OC, for it more faithfully reflects the play’s world. See Jones (2013). 13 Kuroda and Date are names of the rulers of Fukuoka and Sendai, respectively. Sōdō means disorder or trouble. 14 If we borrow the notion of sociologist Nakane Chie from her enlightening analysis of Japanese society, Ie is a “frame-​based social group … in which family members and retainers are not separated but form an integrated corporate group” (Nakane, 1970, p. 7). 15 See Kasaya Kazuhiko (2006). 16 Kawatake (1969, p.  69). For a general account of oi’e sōdō-​mono in traditional theatre, see Ōkubo Tadakuni (1975). 17 Fukuda Chizuru (2005, p. 13). 18 The English title is ours. In HD, it is The Courtesan and Awa’s Straits of Naruto. 19 Fukuda (2007, Vol. 2, p. 222). Uchiyama thinks Hanji referred to this document to conceive his play (Uchiyama, 1989, p. 584). 20 Chikamatsu Hanji, Terada Hyōzō, and Matsuda Baku, Kokubungaku kenkyū shiryōkan (National Institute of Japanese Literature), Union Catalogue of Early Japanese Books (online database). Last consulted on December 9, 2019. http://​ base1.nijl.ac.jp/​koten_​list/​search/​. The English title is ours. 21 Fukuda (2007, Vol. 1, p. 300). See also Kurakazu Masae (1993) and Uchiyama (1989, p. 511). 22 Ibid. 23 Uchiyama (1989, p. 545). 24 Kawatake (1969, p. 72). 25 Nagawa Kamesuke (2002). The title is Kagamiyama sato no kikigaki (Mirror Mountain: A Hearsay Heard in the Home). The English title is ours. 26 Yō Yōtai (1989). See also Uchiyama (1989, p. 510). 27 Mitamura (1997, p. 100). See also Ōkubo Hiroshi (1965). Ōkubo writes that the victim was a beautiful young man beloved by the lord of Okayama. H. Ōkubo (1965, p. 5).

204  Travel Game while Crossing Iga 28 One of the reasons why Watanabe Kazuma did not take action for revenge was that according to customary laws, revenge was permitted only in cases in which the elders of the concerned party were killed (the lord, father, or elder brothers) while the victim (killed by Matagorō) was Kazuma’s younger brother. 29 It is thought that Matagorō, though officially banished from samurai society, was secretly supported by the direct vassals of the shogun. 30 For details of the revenge, see Hirade Kōjirō (1975, pp. 116–​121). H. Ōkubo, (1965, pp. 26–​32). 31 The story is told in his Budō denraiki (Transmission of the Martial Arts). Ihara Saikaku (1967). 32 Ueno Noriko (1987, pp. 1–​27). 33 The difference between jitsuroku and kōdan is understood here as the former retaining more or less a didactic character, while the latter is considered as pure entertainment. 34 The English title is ours. 35 Nakamura (1983, Vol. 10, p. 235). 36 We have seen the name Uesugi in Chapter  6; in fact the Uesugi was a samurai family of pedigree since the 14th century (the Ashikaga period) that had survived to the Edo period. 37 Masamune was one of the most renowned swordsmiths in Japan. 38 Uji’iye Mikito (1995, p. 166). Gary P. Leupp, author of a monograph about male homosexuality in the Edo period, however, did not mention this change of tide in the 18th century (Leupp, 1995). 39 For shūtanba, see Leiter (1997, “shûtanba,” p. 607). 40 Arashi Shichisaburō (1745–​1808) was an actor and theatre manager. 41 Tsuchida Mamoru (1998, pp. 407–​425). 42 Tsurumi (1959, p. 11). 43 Hashimoto (2019, p. 268). 44 Chikamatsu Hanji (1996, pp. 33–​34). 45 As a side note, this kind of game (dochū sugoroku); board game simulating a travel − its Western counterpart is the Game of the Goose − was highly popular in the Edo period. Masukawa Kouichi (1995, p. 99). 46 Hashimoto (2019, p. 279). 47 Chikamatsu Hanji (1996, p. 557). 48 Jones (2013, p. 208); Chikamatsu Hanji (1996, p. 112). 49 The translation is ours. Jones (2013, p. 209); Chikamatsu Hanji (1996, p. 113).

Bibliography Chikamatsu Hanji. 1996. “Igagoe dōchū sugoroku [Travel Game while Crossing Iga].” Annotated by Uchiyama Mikiko and Nobuhiro Shinji. In Chikamatsu Hanji, Edo sakusha jōrurishū [Collection of Bunraku Plays by Chikamatsu Hanji and Edo Playwrights]. Shin Nihon koten bungaku taikei [New Collection of Japanese Classic Literature], Vol. 94: 1–134. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. Fukuda Chizuru. 2005. Oi’ye sōdō [The Disturbance of Feudal Lord Households]. Tokyo: Chūōkōronsha. —​—​—​, ed. 2007. Shinpen oi’e sōdō [The Disturbance of Feudal Lord Households, New Edition]. 2 vols. Tokyo: Shin-​jinbutsu ōraisha.

Travel Game while Crossing Iga  205 Furuido Hideo. 1992. “Chikamatsu Hanji to Suga Sensuke [Chikamatsu Hanji and Suga Sensuke].” In Jōruri no sekai [The World of Bunraku]:  115–​125, edited by Sakaguchi Hiroyuki. Kyoto: Sekaishisōsha. Hara Michio. 1997. “Ayatsuri jōruri no taisei to tenkai [The Achievements of Bunraku Puppet Theater].” In Kinsei engeki wo manabu hito no tameni [A Handbook for Studying Early Modern Theater]:  77–​ 90, edited by Sakaguchi Hiroyuki. Kyoto: Sekaishisōsha. Hashimoto Osamu. 2019. Mousukoshi jōruri wo yomou [Let’s Read More Bunraku Pieces]. Tokyo: Shinchōsha. Hirade Kōjirō. 1975. Katakiuchi [Revenge]. Tokyo:  Saigetsusha. (First published in 1909.) Ihara Saikaku. 1967. Budō denraiki [Transmission of the Martial Arts]. Annotated by Yokoyama Shigeru and Maeda Kingorō. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. Imao Tetsuya. 2001. “Katari to engeki: gidayūkyōgen ni tsuite kangaeru [Narration and Theatre:  A Reflection on Bunraku Plays].” Theatre Studies. Journal of Japanese Society for Theatre Research 39. Available as e-​ text:  https://​doi.org/​10.18935/​ jjstr.39.0_​101. Jones, Stanleigh H. Jr., trans. & annot. 2013. “Vengeance at Iga Pass.” In The Bunraku Puppet Theatre of Japan: 76–​235. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press. Kasaya Kazuhiko. 2006. Shukun oshikome no kōzō [The Structure of the Enforced Retirement of Lords]. Tokyo: Kōdansha. (First published in 1988.) Kawatake Toshio. 1969. “Edo minshū geki toshiteno oi’ye mono no tenkai [The Development of Plays Treating Feudal Lord House Disturbances Viewed as Popular Theater in Edo].” Kikan kabuki [Kabuki Quarterly] 4: 65–​76. Kurakazu Masae. 1993. “Shōtokuki no ukiyozōshi to jijizassetsu:  Yanagisawa sōdō­mono wo chūshin’ni [Ukiyozōshi Stories and Contemporary Gossip: Focusing on the Yanagisawa Trouble].” Kinsei Bungei [Early Modern Literature] 57. Available as e-​text: https://​doi.org/​10.20815/​kinseibungei.57.0_​12. Kurata Yoshihiro. 2013. Bunraku no rekishi [A History of Bunraku]. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. Leiter, Samuel L. 1997. New Kabuki Encyclopedai. A  Revised Adaptation of Kabuki Jiten. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press. Leupp, Gary P. 1995. Male Colors. The Construction of Homosexuality in Tokugawa Japan. Berkeley: University of California Press. Masukawa Kouichi. 1995. Sugoroku II. Tokyo: Hōsei University Press. Mitamura Engyo. 1997. “Iga no suigetsu [The Vengeance in Iga].” Edited by Asakura Haruhiko. In Engyo Edo Bunko [Engyo’s Writings About the Edo Period], Vol. 8: 97–​207. Tokyo: Chūōkōronsha. Nagawa Kamesuke. 2002. “Kagamiyama sato no kikigaki [Mirror Mountain:  A Hearsay Heard in the Home].” Annotated by Ueno Noriko. In Kabukiidaichō Shūsei [Collection of Kabuki Stage Scripts]: 207–​512, edited by Kabukidaichō kenkyūkai, Vol. 40. Tokyo: Benseisha. Nakamura Yukihiko. 1983. “Osaka kōdan chūkō no so Yoshida Ippō [Yoshida Ippō, or the Great Contributor to the Development of Osaka kōdan].” In Nakamura Yukihiko chojutsushū [Writings of Nakamura Yukihiko], Vol. 10: 232–​238. Tokyo: Chūōkōronsha. Nakane, Chie. 1970. Japanese Society. Harmondsworth: Penguin Books. Ōkubo Hiroshi. 1965. Araki Mataemon shō [Annotations on the Life of Araki Mataemon]. Tottori: Araki Mataemon kai.

206  Travel Game while Crossing Iga Ōkubo Tadakuni. 1975. “Oi’e sōdō-​ mono no keisei to masuro [The Formation and Decline of Plays Treating Feudal Lord Household Disturbances].” In Kokubungaku Ronsō:  Suzuki Tomotarō hakase koki kinen [Studies of Japanese Literature: In Celebration of the 70th Birthday of Doctor Suzuki Tomotarō]: 615–​ 627. Tokyo:  Suzuki Tomtarō hakase no koki wo iwaukai [Association for celebrating the 70th Birthday of Doctor Suzuki Tomtarō]. Tsuchida Mamoru. 1998. “Yakusha kaisetsu [Biographies of Kabuki Actors].” In Kamigata kabukishū [Collection of Kamigata Area Kabuki]. Shin Nihon koten bungaku taikei [New Collection of Japanese Classic Literature], Vol. 95: 407–​437. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. Tsurumi Makoto, annot. 1959. “Kamakura sandai-​ki [A Chronicle of the Three Generations of Kamakura].” In Jōrurishū [Bunraku Plays], Vol. 2. Nihon koten bungaku taikei [Collection of Japanese Classic Literature] 52. Tokyo:  Iwanami shoten. Uchiyama Mikiko. 1989. Jōrurishi no jūhasseiki [The 18th Century in the History of Bunraku]. Tokyo: Bensei shuppan. Ueno Noriko. 1987. “Igagoe adauchimono Sappoutenrinki no tensei [The Evolution of ‘Sappoutenrinki:  Stories treating the revenge of Igagoe].” In Kinsei bungei [Early  Modern Literature] 47. Nihon Kinsei Bungakukai [Japanese Society for Early  Modern Literature]. Available as e-​ text:  https://​doi.org/​10.20815/​ kinseibungei.47.0_​1. Uji’iye Mikito. 1995. Bushidō to erosu [The Way of the Samurai and Eros]. Tokyo: Kōdansha. Yokoyama Tadashi. 1981. “Jōruri sakusha Chikamatsu Hanji: jōruri kabuki no setten ni okeru [Chikamatsu Hanji as Bunraku Playwright, at the Crossing of Bunraku and Kabuki],” In Kinsei engeki, kenkyū to shiryō [Modern Theatre:  Studies and Sources]: 97–​114. Tokyo: Ōfūsha. Yō Yōtai. 1989. “Kagamiyama kokyō no nishiki’e [A Woman’s Treasury of Loyalty].” Annotated by Miyai Kōji. In Edo sakusha jōrurishū [Collection of Bunraku plays by Edo Playwrights]. Sōsho Edobunko [Collection of Edo Literature], Vol. 15: 365–​ 461. Tokyo: Kokusho kankōkai.

 207

Conclusion

At the turn of a new century, the creativity of bunraku in Osaka receded before Edo kabuki’s bare realism mixed with extravaganza, which reflected the matured, but decadent cultural atmosphere of the capital. However, bunraku history plays give us much insight not only for their ways of representing politicosocial concerns based on the popular imagination, but also for the interaction between their narration and animated objects. In 1783, after their production of Travel Game while Crossing Iga, the Takemoto-​za virtually disintegrated. In fact, from 1772, the peak year of Hanji’s career, to 1781 when “the Takemoto-​za” as a theatre company came back to the Dōtonbori theatre district, the company had been split due to an internal conflict and was sporadically producing stages outside Dōtonbori. Travel Game was the theatre company’s last effort to restore the Takemoto-​za playhouse and its name in Dōtonbori, but they had used up all of their strength in the production. After that, the venue came to be known as a kabuki theatre. The Toyotake-​za company, which had already moved out of Dōtonbori in 1765, continued producing works at the Toyotake Konokichi-​za theatre in Kitahorie, a newly developed pleasure quarter in Osaka. However, after 1784 the company also ceased to produce bunraku for some time due to financial problems.1 Outside of the theatre milieus, from 1782 to 1788, Japan underwent the great Tenmei famine.2 It was further worsened by the tremendous eruption of Mt. Asama in 1783. Together, these disasters caused many deaths through starvation in the north of the country. While the southern region, including Osaka, was not directly hit by these natural disasters, they still aroused public anxiety. It is worth noting that some evidence indicates that the Northern Hemisphere was affected by the Little Ice Age in the late 18th century and that it was certainly related to another social disorder on the other end of the planet − the French Revolution, which took place in 1789.3 In 1784, an opponent of Tanuma Okitsugu assassinated his son in Edo Castle (different from the Akō Incident, however, it caused no revenge affair). The event foreshadowed Tanuma’s decline. Two years later, the Shogun Ieharu passed away and Tanuma was deprived of his 20,000 koku revenue

208 Conclusion and put under the bakufu’s surveillance. In 1787, with the inauguration of the new Shogun Ienari, the young Matsudaira Sadanobu (1759−1829) was nominated as the chief senior councilor (rōjū shuseki) and commanded the Kansei Reforms.4 Sadanobu, a grandson of the Shogun Yoshimune and a feudal lord belonging to one of the three branch families of Yoshimune’s lineage, had a good reputation for his brilliance and was known as a skilled administrator, for he had prevented deaths due to starvation in his domain during the great famine. However, as a genuine conservative, he admired his grandfather and consequently, his reforms completely negated the policies of his predecessor, Tanuma. His ideal was an agrarian society based on Confucian ethics, and he rejected “new” ideas that would threaten its stability. He severely demanded the samurai’s return to a life of frugality. His policies, though they terrified samurai in the capital spoiled by a life of ease, came to a dead halt in only six years, as they went against the times. If Sadonobu, a nagging critic of public morality, did not interfere in bunraku plays in Osaka, it was because the importance of the city had diminished as compared to the preceding years.5 Rather, he was indifferent to the city’s commercial activities. Notwithstanding, the advent of Sadonobu was welcomed by Osaka’s people, for Tanuma was reputed to be corrupt and in alliance with big merchants. In 1789, the assassination of Tanuma’s son was dramatized as a bunraku history play and staged at the Toyotake Konokichi-​za.6 It was an apparent topical celebration of the new ruler. From then on, Osaka’s bunraku emitted its last spark over the next decade, which was consummated in the success of The Picture Book of the Taikō (Ehon taikōki, 1799). The play was adapted from picture book novels about the life of Toyotomi Hideyoshi (Mashiba Hisayoshi in the play). It was staged by the Toyotake-​ za company, which had returned to Dōtonbori, and was another version of the “nobility of failure.” Besides Hideyoshi’s marvelous victory at a critical moment in history, the plot also features the doom of his antagonist, Mitsuhide, who had rebelled against their (Hisayoshi and Mitsuhide’s) lord Harunaga (Nobunaga in history). The dramatic piece indicates that over the 200 years since the event, the battle itself (between Hideyoshi and Mitsuhide, which took place in 1582) had become a source of pure entertainment. The play is in fact well made, exhibiting tragic tension in some scenes, but nevertheless devoid of any deep political implication. The Toyotake-​ za company, however, did not keep their playhouse in Dōtonbori, even after the success of The Picture Book, which meant that bunraku could no longer compete with kabuki as big showbiz. After the turn of the new century, the remnants of both the Takemoto-​za and Toyotake-​za companies continued their performances in small theatres in Osaka (in addition, there were also a large number of bunraku amateurs in the countryside, and the companies could earn their living by touring these countryside towns).

Conclusion  209 Meanwhile, Uemura Bunrakuken I  (1751−1810) arrived in Osaka from Awaji-​shima island  –​which lies in Osaka Bay and is known for amateur bunraku performances − in the late 18th century and opened a house for amateurs to practice bunraku chanting. In 1805, he inaugurated a modest theatre for bunraku. His son, Uemura Bunrakuken II (1784−1819), succeeded the management of the theatre; however, it was Uemura Bunrakuken III (1813−1887) who rebuilt bunraku as a refined performing art in the aftermath of the Meiji Revolution in 1868, hence the Japanese traditional puppet theatre (ningyō jōruri) came to be referred to as “bunraku”.7 From the 19th century onward, bunraku was not dead, but it had lost its power to create new plays. There were several reasons for this. First, bunraku had been defeated in its competition with kabuki. The audience wanted to see more “reality” in plays, and this could only be realized by living actors, because as we noted in the previous chapter, bunraku is more suited for allegorical representation of human acts. Bunraku’s defeat against the naked realism of kabuki was exemplified by Five Great Powers that Secure Love (Godairiki koi no fūjime, 1794), a kabuki play written by Namiki Gohei (1747−1808). Gohei was born in Osaka and, like his master Namiki Shōza, he was a natural theatre man, as he was the son of a theatre doormen manager. The play portrays an honest but simple samurai (Gengobei) who comes from a rural domain. Gengobei mistakenly comes to believe that he has been betrayed by his lover (Koman) in the pleasure quarter and kills five people successively, including Koman herself. While the play was based on a real affair that took place several decades before (and was also dramatized by Hanji), Gohei’s originality lies in his fresh realism, found in such scenes as “aiso zukashi” (feigned cold-​ heartedness),8 where the courtesan (Koman) intentionally abandons her lover (just like in La Dame aux Camélias), and “koroshiba” (murder scenes),9 which feature Gengobei’s bloody and merciless murders. These motifs constitute stereotyped kabuki mise-​en-​scènes, by which a detailed psychological study of the characters is merged into the beauty of stylized acting, thereby producing a kind of supernaturalism as seen in Sharaku’s ukiyo-​e portraits of kabuki actors. An important point is that these motifs or scenes could be further elaborated by the actors’ efforts, satisfying the audience’s predilection for seeing something real on stage. In 1794, Gohei, who had established himself as an influential playwright in Osaka, was invited to a theatre in Edo with an exceptional waiver fee. It was there that he remade his foregoing play as Five Great Powers and recorded a big success. As is known to specialists of Japanese theatre, “Gohei’s move to Edo” was a symbolic action that Edo had become the center of the theatrical world. The event also tells that the people’s appetite had shifted to the more contemporary and “realistic” kabuki plays, which were to be called kizewa-​mono (bare domestic plays), although the realism in kabuki is significantly different from that of Western theatre. The former follows minute observations of human nature such as cruelty, eroticism, vanity, weakness,

210 Conclusion obsession, repentance, irony, cynicism, and so forth, and dramas including these studies are dominated by unfathomable darkness or agnosticism mixed with superstition and fate: this was the world image of the early 19th century Edo people. Second, the apparent cause of the decline of bunraku history plays is ascribed to the dramaturgy itself:  the exploitation of the shukō (plot) in the sekai (story world). Bunraku’s sekai spread over Japanese history as a whole from the mythical world of Japanese gods to the Age of Warring States in the 16th century. This was the limit for evading censorship forbidding the treatment of “contemporary” affairs in drama. Not only major events but also lesser-​known anecdotes in this time frame, as long as they were shared by the people as common knowledge, were made use of in bunraku history plays. Shukō, on the other hand, consisted of a new approach to existing stories in the sekai. Such device was often made in accordance with topical references to contemporary events and manners from a journalistic viewpoint as well as for ensuring box office revenue. In the course of time, however, it became increasingly difficult to render current concerns following the five-​part structure of history plays with each part being assigned a particular theme such as love, battle, pathos, and others. The problem was already seen in Chūshingura, in which dramatic events were divided into 11 parts to depict people in society. In other words, history plays were destined to be more “realistic,” in the classical Japanese theatre sense, only insofar as they were bound to contemporary affairs. While the dramaturgy based on sekai and shukō was sine qua non for theatre practitioners due to censorship, the contradiction of representing the present in the fixed framework of the past was reworked by the playwrights of the new generation. In Edo kabuki, the play was simply divided into two parts, in which the first part belonged to the past (jidai) and the second was located in the present (sewa). Meanwhile, the same characters appear in both spheres, invalidating their limits. By contrast, in a typical bunraku history play such as Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees, scenes of the commoners, in other words the drama, are sharply opposed to the world of the nobility, or the epic. Thus in kabuki, history became a pretext or a source of parody, not a benchmark of a predetermined order that bunraku playwrights had challenged. Indeed, the most serious problem of the bunraku history play was related to social context. By the end of the 18th century, Japanese history could no longer function as an interpretation grid on which to project contemporary concerns. As a matter of fact, Japan at the time was changing, both in international and domestic terms. In 1792, Adam Kirillovich Laxman, a delegate of Imperial Russia, landed on Hokkaidō island, the northern frontier of Japan, to request a bilateral trade relationship. Hokkaidō was left as a buffer zone between the two countries through the retrograding decision of Matsudaira Sadanobu. While “sakiokuri” (endless postponing of a definitive answer), a favorite technique of Japanese bureaucrats, caused Laxman’s demand to

Conclusion  211 remain unsatisfied, Japan in the following century would see similar contacts succeed. Nonetheless, such situation had been predicted by Hayashi Shihei (1738−1793), an enlightened intellectual of the Sendai domain who emphasized in his writings the necessity of maritime defense, especially against Russia. He was ordered house arrest by the bakufu for criticizing governmental policy and died in obscurity. In 1800, Inō Tadataka (1745−1818), a retired rich merchant in a nearby region of Edo, commenced the mapping of the Japanese archipelago including Hokkaidō using modern surveying technologies. He learned mathematics, astronomy, and related skills under the bakufu’s astronomers. His project soon gained official support, and when Maps of Japan’s Coastal Area was completed by his disciples in 1821, the exact geography of Japan became visible for the first time in history. As a seemingly insignificant, but ideologically important internal affair, in 1793, Takayama Hikokurō (1747−1793), a close friend of Hayashi Shihei, killed himself to protest the bakufu’s interference in his activities to propagate reverence for the Emperor nationwide. What Hanji conceived in his plays − daring rebels against the Tokugawa regime − was becoming a reality; over the next century, Hikokurō’s ideas were shared by patriotic intellectuals who dreamed of reconstructing the country with spiritual support for the Emperor. Finally, Japaneseness, or what makes people living in the Far Eastern islands Japanese, was pursued by the philological works of Moto’ori Norinaga (1730−1801), a medical practitioner by profession who devoted his life to the study of the Japanese language and literature. He found Japaneseness in the ancient language before it had been “contaminated” by Chinese words and notions imported in order to civilize the nation. He formulated the proper literary sensibility for the Japanese through an interpretation of the Kojiki (An Account of Ancient Matters) from the 8th century together with The Tale of Genji from the 11th century. Although his approach was rigidly scholarly and he was not ignorant of Western knowledge (he knew Japan was located on the globe in the solar system),10 his idea about the “Japanese soul” (yamato gokoro) would leave a non-​negligible influence on the formation of later nationalism. These changes or impetus to changes, intrinsic and extrinsic, denote that Japan was moving forward in the formation of a nation-​state based on a relativistic view of the country, although this perspective was for the time being lacking for the commoners. In other words, Japan on the threshold of the coming century was being incorporated into the world system as a new “periphery” (soon afterward, the Japanese waters were to be crowded with North American whaleships as symbolized by Moby Dick). The Tokugawa regime still survived for almost seven decades into the new century, and the first half of the period (the Bunka and Bunsei eras: 1804−1830) saw the perfection of the commoner culture in Edo –​the so-​called Edo culture, which included ukiyo-​e, popular cuisine such as sushi, and a major part

212 Conclusion of kabuki stage direction and its acting style. In the realm of the theatre, however, while the audience enjoyed “realism” in fine detail, the new era’s play structure was oriented toward more complication to elicit novelty and extravagance, based on the dramaturgy of naimaze (mixing of the past and the present),11 as seen in the plays of Tsuruya Nanboku IV (1755−1829). We could even say that the gap between the two extremes of pursuing “realism” in fine detail and the predilection for novelty and extravagance reflected the difficulties of the regime found in a blind alley. Thus, the critical function of bunraku history plays of the preceding age was replaced by mise en abyme, or the deconstruction of a world in kabuki pieces of the new generation. The 80-​year development of bunraku history plays in the 18th century, however, was significant as it tells us how political concerns were correlated with the popular imagination on stage –​all the more because bunraku dramaturgy developed with little influence other than its own, like the flora and fauna of the Galápagos Islands. The extraordinariness of its dramaturgy, such as the parallelism between different ages and people by way of the story, plot, or even puns, is rich in insights on political theatre; should it be a representation of real things or an allegory? Through its use of puppets, bunraku could be both and much more; the play is fantasy, burlesque, and infantilism, all while maintaining a criticism of human acts in society. Last but not least, Japan has been fertile grounds for the art of oral narratives. In the early modern and modern periods, besides bunraku, Buddhist sermon ballads (sekkyō-​bushi), kōshaku, kōdan, rakugo, and rōkyoku were all popular narrative arts. Meanwhile in the 20th century, benshi (which literally means “speaker”) appeared to accompany silent movies with live narration –​ and some benshi even rose to stardom. More recently, Japanese voice actors (seiyū) who play characters in Japanese animation (and video games) enjoy celebrity in as much the same way as bunraku tayū (chanters) and silent movie benshi. The art of bunraku could be studied from such an angle; as we have indicated in Chapter 1, for those who are interested in the performing arts, there remains much to be seen concerning the interaction between the human voice and animation, or oral narratives and animated images.

Notes 1 For the activities of the two theatre companies, see Uchiyama (1989, pp. 3–​37). 2 Tenmei is the name of an era between 1781 and 1789. 3 Toby (2008, p. 86). Toby discusses the global impact of the Little Ice Age, quoting the hypothesis of Emmanuel Le Roy Ladurie that it triggered the French Revolution. 4 Kansei is the era name between 1789 and 1801. For a detailed account of the Kansei Reforms, see Tsuji (1991, pp. 467–​477). 5 Uchiyama (1989, p. 563). 6 The play’s title is Yūshoku Kamakura-​yama, written by Suga Sensuke and Nakamura Gyogan.

Conclusion  213 7 Kurata (2013, p.  103). In some literature, Bunrakuken III is referred to as Bunrakuken IV; however, we follow Uchiyama’s counting. See Uchiyama (1988, p. 314). 8 For aiso zukashi, see Leiter (1997, “enkiri,” p. 93). 9 For koroshiba, ibid., “koroshiba,” p. 354. 10 Mori Kazuya (2018, p. 252). 11 For naimaze, see Leiter (1997, “naimaze,” p. 430).

Bibliography Kurata Yoshihiro. 2013. Bunraku no rekishi [A History of Bunraku]. Tokyo: Iwanami shoten. Leiter, Samuel L. 1997. New Kabuki Encyclopedia. A  Revised Adaptation of Kabuki Jiten. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press. Mori Kazuya. 2018. Shintō, jukyō, bukkyō: edoshisō-​shi no nakano sankyō [Shintoism, Confucianism and Buddhism: The Three Teachings in the History of Edo Ideology]. Tokyo: Chikuma shobō. Toby, Ronald P. 2008. Sakoku toiu gaikō [The Foreign Affairs of Seclusion]. Zenshū Nihon no rekishi [Comprehensive Approach to Japanese History], Vol. 9. Tokyo: Shōgakukan. Tsuji Tatsuya. 1991. “Politics in the Eighteenth Century.” In The Cambridge History of Japan, Vol. 4: 425–​477. Translated by Harold Bolitho. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Uchiyama Mikiko. 1988. “Ningyō jōruri saiseiki [The Heyday of Bunraku].” In Nihon bungeishi [History of Japanese Literature], Vol. 4: 297–​314, edited by Hara Michio and Hayashi Tatsuya. Tokyo: Kawadeshobō shinsha. —​—​—​. 1989. Jōrurishi no jūhasseiki [The 18th Century in the History of Bunraku]. Tokyo: Bensei shuppan.

214

Appendix Periodization of the history of Japan and its major geographical traits

Below, we provide basic information on Japanese history and the major geographical traits of the Japanese archipelago in terms of the plays and authors treated in the book.

Periodization For those with little knowledge on Japan, Japanese history from the 7th to the mid-​19th centuries could be roughly divided into three phases: (1) Aristocratic Japan, (2) Medieval Japan, and (3) Early Modern Japan. 1 Aristocratic Japan began in the late 7th century and ended in the late 12th century. After the reforms said to have taken place in 645, the Emperor’s authority was reassured, importing the advanced ruling systems of China and Buddhism. Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women treats the power struggle related to these reforms. The regime was further developed by the bureaucracy of aristocrats in the Heian (literary means “peaceful”) period from 794 to 1185. Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy is based on another political conflict in the 10th century when the aristocratic family of the Fujiwara prevailed. 2 Medieval Japan covers the late 12th century to the late 16th century. The era was marked with the warriors’ (samurai) climb to power. These warriors successively inaugurated their own governments, in addition to the imperial court: the Kamakura shogunate (the Kamakura period: from 1185 to 1333) and the Ashikaga shogunate (from 1338 to 1573). The Kamakura shogunate was brought as a result of the conflict between two clans of warriors around the 1180s: the Genji and the Heike, whose stories were adapted in Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees, by way of The Tale of the Heike. The Kamakura period was followed by an almost 60 year-long opposition, from the 1330s to the 1390s, between the Northern and the Sothern Courts involving warriors nationwide. The conflict became the source of The Taiheiki (A Chronicle of Great Peace), which gained popularity in the early modern period and greatly influenced bunraku playwrights. The

Appendix  215 story world of Chūshingura (The Treasury of Loyal Retainers) is taken from The Taiheiki. The heyday of the Ashikaga shogunate was relatively short, and the country entered the Age of Warring Sates from the 1470s on, during which the presence of the shogun remained largely disregarded. 3 Early Modern Japan started with the (re)unification of the country by Toyotomi Hideyoshi in the late 16th century (the 1580s), with most of the era corresponding to the Edo period (1603−1868), ruled by the Tokugwa shogunate. The shoguns related to the present study are as follows: First Shogun Ieyasu (reign: 1603−1605): Even after leaving the office, he exercised power as the retired shogun and finally annihilated the Toyotomi in 1615 before his death the following year. Bunraku authors dramatized the event as The Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province and A Chronicle of the Three Generations of Kamakura, although their story world was set in a (fictitious) political conflict in the early Kamakura shogunate. Second Shogun Hidetada (reign: 1605−1623) Third Shogun Iemitsu (reign: 1623−1651): His reign saw the (final) uprising of Japanese Christians. Fifth Shogun Tsunayoshi (reign: 1680−1709): Most of his reign corresponds to the Genroku era (1688−​1704), when the economic development of the country reached its peak. It was also during Tsunayoshi’s term that Chikamatsu Monzaemon (1653−​1725) started his career as dramatist. In addition, the Akō Incident, the source of Chūshingura, took place in 1703. Sixth and Seventh Shoguns Ienobu and Ietsugu (reign: 1709−1716): These two shoguns were supported by Arai Hakuseki, renowned for his intelligence. Eighth Shogun Yoshimune (reign: 1716−1745): Bunraku history plays matured under Yoshimune’s rule, while his Kyōhō Reforms were by no means favorable to the life of commoners. Yoshimune, like Ieyasu, held power as the retired shogun up to his death in 1751. Ninth and Tenth Shoguns Ieshige and Ieharu (reign: 1745−1786): The period between the death of Yoshimune and the end of Ieharu’s reign approximately covers the years of Chikamatsu Hanji (1725−1783) as playwright during the downturn of bunraku.

Japanese geography Japan consists of four main islands: Honshū, Kyūshū, Shikoku, and Hokkaidō (see Figure A.1). In the Edo period, however, most of Hokkaidō remained as the northern frontier inhabited by the Ainu people. The Ryūkyū (Okinawa) islands in the southeast seas were subject to both the shogunate and the Qing dynasty in China.

216 Appendix

Figure A.1 Map of Japan. © Rainer [email protected].

On the northwest of Kyūshū island is Nagasaki, the only authorized port for international trade with the Chinese and Dutch at the time. Shimabara, near Nagasaki, was the place of the great rebellion of Japanese Christians in 1637. Dazaifu (in the suburbs of the city called Fukuoka today) to the north of Kyūshū had been a gateway for welcoming foreign delegates and merchants coming from China and Korea. It was there that Sugawara no Michizane in Sugawara was expelled from Kyoto. The Seto Inland Sea, which looks like narrow straits between Honshū and Shikoku, was the main transportation line connecting Kyūshū with Nara and Kyoto, the ancient capitals of Japan. Osaka became a commercial center at the other end of the sea in the 17th century.

Appendix  217 In the 12th century, the Kamakura shogunate set up their government in a small town called Kamakura (about 30 miles west of Tokyo today), which had been a part of the eastern frontier. However, it was Ieyasu, the first Tokugawa shogun, who definitively moved the capital to Edo (Tokyo) in 1603. As a result, the road connecting the new and old capitals (Edo and Kyoto), or the Tōkaidō road, featured in Travel Game while Crossing Iga, gained importance. Before 1868, the Japanese territory was composed of about 60 provinces. In the Edo period, these provinces were further divided into han or domains, ruled either by feudal lords or the bakufu (Edo government). While large hans could manage an entire province (in a few cases, their domains extended to several provinces), most provinces were segmented into different territories, ruled by lords and the shogun.

Index

47 Ronin 120 47 retainers 121–​122; Akō rōnin 135, 139, 140n25; ex-​retainers 23, 120–​129, 133–​134, 136, 139n5; gishi 121, 139; righteous rōnin 142n73–​74 Abeno (place-​name)  69–​70 Abe no Seimei 59, 62–​63, 69, 81 Abe no Seimei monogatari see Story of Abe no Seimei Abe no Yasuna 60–​61, 64–​66, 70 Account of Ancient Matters 101, 177, 211 Account of the Battles of the Ming and Qing 42, 48 affair of Meiwa 162 Aged Pine 86 Age of Warring States 102, 146, 163n19, 190, 194, 210 aiso zukashi 209 Akechi Mitsuhide 147, 149, 208 Akō Incident 12, 120–​125, 128–​30, 207, 215 akusho 6, 8, 127, 135; see also bad place Almanac Maker and the Old Almanac 74, 127 Amakawa-​ya (character in Chūshingura) 131, 136–​137 Amakusa Shirō 32, 150 Amino Yoshihiko 67 Amorous Courier for a Courtesan 188 Amsterdam 3 Antoku see Empeor Antoku aragoto 11, 53–​54 Arai Hakuseki 40, 47, 59, 83, 88, 103, 168, 215 Araki Mataemon 195–​196 aruki shirabyōshi 67 as it turned out (dramaturgy) 101, 111, 159

Asahi Bunzaemon 128; see also Parrot in the Cage Asano (Lord) 124–​125, 129 Ashikaga shogunate 102, 105, 124, 152, 193, 214–​215 Ashikaga Takauji 105, 152–​153 Ashiya Dōman ōuchi kagami see Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman Atreidai 29 Awa domain 191–​192 Awaji-​shima (island)  2, 209 Azuma kagami see Mirror of the East bad place 6, 32, 127, 134, 196 bakufu 30, 46, 129, 177, 190–​194, 211, 217 bare domestic play see kizewa-​mono Barthes, Roland 25, 160 battle at Sekigahara 147, 151 Battles of Coxinga (Coxinga) 18, 38–​39, 42–​49, 52–​54, 82, 149 Benedict, Ruth 52 Benkei (character in Yoshitsune) 109, 112 Benkei aboard Ship 112 benshi 212 Brandon, James R. 138 Brechtian technique 115, 134 Bunka and Bunsei eras 211 bunraku-​za (theatre)  xvii buraku 70 bushi xviii bushidō 96, 139 Carriage Pulling (Act of) see Kurumabiki censorship 29, 125, 129, 149, 151–​153, 210; self-​censorship  31 chanter 17–​19, 21–​24, 42, 169–​170, 176–​177, 187–​188; see also tayū

Index  219 Chikamatsu Hanji 26, 30, 157–​161, 169–​174, 178–​181, 187–​194; career 170; death 197 Chikamatsu Monzaemon 7–​13, 22–​33, 41–​42, 38–​65, 73–​75, 83–​89, 91–​95, 127–​135, 149–​151, 187–​189; and bunraku dramaturgy 17–​33; career 46; death 59; and the Emperor 95; and kabuki 27, 192; revival 188 China 1–​5, 40–​42, 82–​83, 101, 214–​216; in Coxinga 18–​22, 43–​54; and the East Asian Waters 38–​39 Chinese Boat: A Modern Coxinga 49–​50 Chinese sexagenary cycle 7, 47, 182 Christianity 7, 32–​33, 39–​40; see also Japanese Christians Chronicle of the Battle of Ichinotani 13 Chronicle of Great Peace 12, 104, 214; see also Taiheiki Chronicle of Namba 151 Chronicle of the Taikō 149 Chronicle of the Tenjin 47, 88, 95–​96 Chronicle of the Three Generations of Kamakura (Three Generations) 153–​157, 161–​162, 215 Chronicle of Yoshitsune 106–​107, 115 Chronicles of Gods and Sovereigns 102 Chronicles of Japan 101, 173, 184n37 Chūchō Jijitsu see Records of the Central Nation Chūshingura 23–​28, 120–​139, 167–​169, 174, 196–​202, 210; see also Treasury of Loyal Retainers Chūshingura narratives 121–​123, 190 Chūshin kogane no tanzaku see Loyal Retainers: A Golden Poem Card, Comprehensive History of Japan 102 Corneille 49, 146, 159–​160 Courier for Hell 188 Courtesan and the Swirling Waters of the Naruto Strait in Awa 192 Courtesan on the Buddha Plain 192 Courtesans in Shimabara and the Battle of Frogs 32, 54, 150 Courtly Mirror of Ashiya Dōman (Courtly Mirror) 59–​75, 81, 146, 150 Coxinga 18, 22, 38–​39, 44–​54; see also Watōnai, Zheng Chenggong Coxinga the Oppressor 53 Coxinga trilogy 38, 49, 51–​52 Cupid and Psyche 177

Dai Nihonshi see Great History of Japan Daihanji (character in Mt. Imo and Mt. Se) 174, 179 Daikyōji mukashigoyomi see Almanac Maker and the Old Almanac, daimyō 2–​3, 124–​125, 127; see also feudal lord Dame aux Camélia 209 dan (defnition) 27–​28 Daring Girl Fired with Love 189 Datemusume koino higanoko see Daring Girl Fired with Love Dazaifu 86, 88–​89, 92, 216 Decorations for a Helmet for Great Peace 153, 164n25, 170 Derrida, Jacques xvii Desnos, Robert 33 deus ex machina 51 Diary of Coxinga’s Achievements 42 Dickens, Frederick Victor 123 diegesis 21, 26 disembowelment see seppuku dog shogun 47, 55n20; see also Shogun Tsunayoshi Dōjōji 14n12 domain (feudal) 123–​127, 191, 217 Dōman (character in Courtly Mirror) 64–​66, 69, 74 domestic play see sewa-​mono Dōmyō-​ji (Act of) 86 Dōtonbori (theatre district) 5, 169–​171, 207–​208 Dutch delegation 40–​41, 46 Dutch East India Company 38 early bunraku 30, 61, 68 Edo 1–​13, 83–​84, 121–​125, 152–​154, 162, 193–​195, 209–​211; population 3; city design 125; see also Tokyo Edo Castle 124, 136, 207 Edo government 83, 124, 147; see also bakufu, shogunal government (of Tokugawa) Edo kabuki 138, 207, 210 Edo period 30–​31, 69, 81–​85, 102–​103, 123–​127, 135–​139, 146–​151, 181–​182, 191; in periodization 215 Ehon Taikōki see Picture Book of the Taikō eiri kyōgen bon see illustrated kabuki play book Electra 29 Emishi (character in Mt. Imo and Mt. Se) see Soga no Emishi

220 Index Emperor (Chinese) 1, 22, 43–​44, 50–​51, 83, 88, 176 Emperor (Japanese): in bunraku 94–​97; in Edo period 82–​84; female Emperor 112, 116, 117n34; see also Ten-​nō Emperor Antoku 105, 107, 109–​111, 114, 116 Emperor Go-​Daigo 104–​106, 116 Emperor Go-​Mizuno’o  46, 83 (retired) Emperor Go-​Shirakawa 105, 107–​108, 117n13 Emperor Go-​Toba  116 Emperor Go-​Yōzei 102 Emperor Kanmu 112 Emperor Meiji 121 Emperor Ōgimachi 102 Emperor Tenji 173, 176, 183n28 enforced retirement of lords see shukun oshikome English Renaissance theatre 9 En’ya (Lord: character in Chūshingura) 25, 129, 131–​137, 200; see also Asano (Lord) En-​no-​gyōja (En the Ascetic) and the Cherry Trees of Ōmine Mountain 172 En-​no-​gyōja Ōmine zakura 172 epic 17–​18, 21, 29, 106, 112, 134, 202, 210 era name 84, 102 eta 71, 73–​74 Euripides 29 fabula 28 factual records see jitsuroku Faithful 123 feudal household disorder see oi’e sōdō feudal lord 2–​4, 82, 121–​128, 135–​136, 187–​198 Five Great Powers that Secure Love 209 Flower Decorations of the Three Generations 153–​154, 164n26 Foreign Adventures of ‘India’ Tokubei 54 Forty-​Seven Great Arrows 130 Fox Tadanobu (character in Yoshitsune) 32, 74, 114–​115 Fox Trapping 60–​61 Freeman-​Mitford, Algernon Betram 122 Fuji (Mount) 199 Fujian (Province) 39 Fujiwara (clan) 82, 105, 173–​178, 214 Fujiwara no Fuhito see Fujiwara Tankai Fujiwara no Kamatari 173–​178 Fujiwara no Tokihira 84, 87, 101 Fujiwara Tankai 173–​178

Fukuoka: domain 190; city 216 Funabenkei see Benkei aboard Ship Futago Sumidagawa see Twins at the River of Sumida Garrick, David 1 gengō see era name Genji (clan) 105–​116, 155, 214 Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province (Genji Vanguard) 146, 153–​161, 170–​172, 180, 215 Genroku Chūshingura 122 Genroku era 11, 17, 128, 168, 180, 215 Genta affair 180 Gikeiki see Chronicle of Yoshitsune Ginpei (character in Yoshitsune) 109, 112; see also Taira no Tomomori Girl from Hakata, or Love at Sea 55n12, 56n33 Goban Taiheiki 129 Go-​Daigo see Emperor Go-​Daigo Godairiki koi no fūjime see Five Great Powers that Secure Love Go-​Mizuno’o see Emperor Go-​Mizuno’o Gonta (character in Yoshitsune) 110–​115 Gordon Craig 10 Go-​Shirakawa see Emperor Go-​Shirakawa Go-​Toba see Emperor Go-​Toba, Gotō Matabei 152–​154, 162, 164n43 Gotō’s Sword Hilt Made of Southern Barbarian Iron (Gotō’s Sword Hilt) 152–​154 Great Chancellor 47 Great History of Japan 102 Great Learning for Women 181–​182 gunkimono see war chronicle Hachi no ki see Potted Trees Hachisuka Shigeyoshi 191–​192 Hagakure 139 haji see shame Hakata Kojorō namimakura see Girl from Hakata, or Love at Sea Hakuseki see Arai Hakuseki Hall, Edward 29 Hamlet 135 han see domain (feudal) Hanakazaru sandai-​ki see Flower Decorations of the Three Generations Hashimoto Osamu 108, 136, 174 Hayashi Gahō 102 Hayashi Razan 102–​103

Index  221 Hayashi Shihei 211 Heian period 81–​82, 214 Heike (clan) 26, 105–​110, 112–​114, 116, 117n13, 214 Henry V 49 Hidetada see Shogun Hidetada Hideyori see Toyotomi Hideyori Hideyoshi see Toyotomi Hideyoshi higashi-​fū 169 Hinadori (character in Mt. Imo and Mt. Se) 174, 178–​180, 182 hinin 64–​65, 71–​74 history play: bunraku 10–​13, 42–​51, 115, 194–​196, 202, 207–​212; decline 210; kabuki 195; structure 27–​31; Shakespeare’s histories 29 Hōjō Tokimasa 154–​157, 159–​161 Hokkaidō (island) 168, 210–​215 Holinshed, Raphael 29 Holland 3, 5, 39 Hollow Reputation of a Reservoir in the Izumi Province 90 Honchō sangoku-​shi see Japanese Version of the History of Three Kingdoms Honchō Tsugan see Comprehensive History of Japan Honzō (character in Chūshingura) 131–​137 Horace 146, 159–​160 Horse Charge and Cape while Crossing Iga (Horse Charge) 194–​202 Hozumi Koretsura 34n15, 170 Hyōe (character in Genji Vanguard and Three Generations) see Wada Hyōe Ichinotani futaba gunki see Chronicle of the Battle of Ichinotani Ie 180, 182, 190, 203n14 Ieharu see Shogun Ieharu Iemitsu see Shogun Iemitsu Ienari see Shogun Ienari Ieshige see Shogun Ieshige Ieyasu see Shogun Ieyasu Iga Province 195, 199 Igagoe dōchū sugoroku see Travel Game Igagoe norikake gappa see Horse Charge and Cape Ihara Saikaku 7, 9, 11, 182, 195 Illustrated Handscroll of Legends of Kitano Tenjin Shrine 85 illustrated kabuki playbook 17 Imoseyama on’na teikin see Mount Imo and Mount Se: Precepts for Women India 1, 48

Inō Tadataka 101, 211 interpretation grid 210 inverted detective story 159 Iquan 39, 43–​50, 53, 82; see also Zheng Zhilong Iruka (character in Mt. Imo and Mt. Se) see Soga no Iruka Ishida Baigan 137 Izumi Province 73, 77, 90 Izumi-​no kuni ukina no tameike see Hollow Reputation of a Reservoir in the Izumi Province Japan’s Twenty-​Four Paragons of Filial Piety 13, 170, 180 Japan-​centered order  38, 48 Japaneseness 52, 54, 123, 211 Japanese Christians 32–​33, 71, 148, 150, 215–​216 Japanese Version of the History of Three Kingdoms 149–​150 jidai-​mono see history play Jihei (character in Love suicides at Amijima) 8, 33 Jin’nō shōtōki see Chronicles of Gods and Sovereigns jitsuaku 197 jitsuroku 120, 151–​162, 190–​196 Jones, Stanleigh H. 25, 108 Jūbei (character in Travel Game) 199–​200 Kaempfer, Engelbert 38, 40–​41, 46, 53 Kaga domain 2, 123, 191 Kagamiyama kokyō no nishiki’e see Mirror Mountain: A Woman’s Treasury of Loyalty Kagamiyama sato no kikigaki see Mirror Mountain: a Hearsay Heard in the Home kai-​hentai see transformation of the Chinese world order Kaitokudō academy 12 Kakuhan (character in Yoshitsune) 110–​114; see also Taira no Noritsune Kamakura (place-​name) 107–​109, 154–​158, 164n29, 217 Kamakura period 154, 214 Kamakura sandai-​ki see Chronicle of the Three Generations of Kamakura Kamakura shogunate 47, 102, 105, 109, 214–​215, 217 Kamatari (character in Mt. Imo and Mt. Se) see Fujiwra no Kamatari

222 Index Kampei (character in Chūshingura) 23–​26, 131–​137 kane tataki 67 Kanhasshū tsunagiuma see Tethered Steed and the Eight Provinces of Kanto kanpaku 147, 163n3 Kanpō era 126 Kansei Reforms 208 Kaoyo see Lady Kaoyo Kara Jūrō 35n51 Karaki Masaemon 196–​198, 200–​201; see also Araki Mataemon karakuri 5–​6, 14n12, 60, 89 Kariya (character in Sugawara) see Princess Kariya Katō Kiyomasa 45 Kawachi Province 103, 177–​178, 184n36 Kawai Matagorō 194–​196, 204n28–​29 kawaramono 71 Keene, Donald 18, 20–​27, 122 Keisei Awa no naruto see Courtesan and the Swirling Waters of the Naruto Strait in Awa Keisei hotoke no hara see Courtesan on the Buddha Plain Keisei koi Bikyaku see Amorous Courier for a Courtesan Keisei makura gundan see Military Story Told on a Pillow of a Courtesan Keisei Shimabara Kaeru Gassen see Courtesans in Shimabara and the Battle of Frogs Kempei-​ō Kokusen’ya see Coxinga the Oppressor Kenkō hōshi monomiguruma see Sightseeing Carriage of the Priest Kenkō Kezairoku see Valuable Notes on Playwriting Ki’i: Peninsula 72; region 109 Killing Stone 60 Kimpira jōruri 30 Kimura Shigenari 151, 154 Kino Kaion 61, 129, 151, 188 Kinugawa Village (Act of) 156–​157 Kira Kōzuke-​no-​suke 124–​125, 129 kiri-​kyōgen 27 Kitahorie (in Osaka) 170, 188, 207 Kitano Tenjin Engi Emaki see Illustrated Handscroll of Legends of Kitano Tenjin Shrine Kiyomori see Taira no Kiyomori kizewa-​mono 209

kōdan 121, 195, 204n33, 212 Kōfukuji temple 174–​178 Koganosuke (character in Mt. Imo and Mt. Se) 174–​180 Koharu (character in Love suicides at Amijima) 8, 33 Kojiki see Account of Ancient Matters kojōruri see early bunraku koku 2, 123–​124, 135–​136 Kōkiden unoha no ubuya see Maternity Room with Cormorant Feathers in Kōki Palace Kokusen’ya gonichi kassen see Later Battles of Coxinga Kokusen’ya kassen see Battles of Coxinga Kokusen’ya tegara nikki see Diary of Coxinga’s Achievements Komutsu (character in Coxinga) 22, 43–​45, 88 Konami (character in Chūshingura) 132–​137, 180 Kō no Moronao 25, 129–​138; see also Kira Kōzuke-​no-​suke Korea 2, 39–​50, 83, 149–​50, 161, 171, 216 Korean emissaries 40, 47 Koremori (character in Yoshitsune) see Taira no Koremori koroshiba 209 kōshakushi 6, 12, 73, 127, 151, 195 Kōwaka-​mai  106 Kōya (Mount) 109 kugutsu 67 Kumano (region) 72 Kurumabiki (Act of) 92–​95 Kusunoki Masashige 104–​105, 115, 139, 141n41 Kuzunoha (character in Courtly Mirror) 59–​75, 77n47, 90 Kyōhō era 130 Kyōhō Reforms 59, 126, 215 kyokusetsu see tune indicators Kyoto 2–​3, 40–​46, 72–​74, 83–​85, 121, 137–​138, 177–​182, 193, 216–​17 Kyūshū (island) 32, 81, 215–​216 ladies chamber 190, 194 Lady Kaoyo (character in Chūshingura) 132–​137 Lady Uji (character in Genji Vanguard and Three Generations) 154–​156; see also Lady Yodo Lady Yodo 147, 152, 154

Index  223 Later Battles of Coxinga 49–​53 Laws of Compassion 46 Laxman, Adam Kirillovich 120 leading playwright 17, 90, 130–​131, 157, 172 Le Cid 49 Lekain 1 London 3, 30 lord chamberlain see sobayōnin Lorenzaccio 138 Louis XIV 3 Louis XV 1 Love Suicide of Kamiya Jihei 188 Love Suicides at Amijima 8, 33, 188 Love Suicides at Sonezaki 9, 27 Love Suicides in Mid-​summer with an Icy Blade 74 Love Suicides on the Eve of the Kōshin Festival 7, 103, 188 Loyal Retainers: A Golden Poem Card 130 lyrical travel interlude 26, 30, 42–​44, 51, 62–​69, 155–​157, 175–​178 Man’yōshū 103 Manchu 39–​49, 55n26, 82, 161 Maria Theresa 1 Maruyama Masao 98n46 Maruya Sai’ichi 122, 138 Marx 113 Masaemon (character in Horse Charge and Travel Game) see Karaki Masaemon Matagorō see Sawai Matagorō Masefield, John 123 Mashiba Hisayoshi see Toyotomi Hideyoshi Maternity Room with Cormorant Feathers in Kōki Palace 65 Matsudaira Sadanobu 208, 210 Matsumoto Kōshirō VIII 138 Max Reinhardt 96 Mayama Seika 122 Meiboku Sendai hagi see Precious Incense and Autumn Flowers of Sendai Meido no hikyaku see Courier for Hell Meiji Revolution 121, 209 Meiwa era 182 Merchant of Venice xvi michiyuki see lyrical travel interlude Michizane see Sugawara no Michizane midori 187–​188 Midsummer Night’s Dream 30, 177

Military Story Told on a Pillow of a Courtesan 150 mimesis 21, 26 mimetic words 24–​25 Minamoto no Yori’ie 154–​158, 160, 164n33 Minamoto no Yoritomo 32, 105–​113, 151–​154 Minamoto no Yoshitsune 31–​32, 101–​116, 151–​154, 162 Ming dynasty 10, 38–​49, 51 Min-​Shin tōki see Account of the Battles of the Ming and Qing Mirror in the Home of Tenjiku Tokubei 171 Mirror Mountain: a Hearsay Heard in the Home 205 Mirror Mountain: A Woman’s Treasury of Loyalty 193 Mirror of the East 101 mise en abyme 212 mise-​en-​scène 117n39, 138, 209 Miura-​no-​suke (character in Genji Vanguard and Three Generations) 154–​158, 180; see also Kimura Shigenari Miwa: legend 178; Mount 177; village 175 Miwa (Noh play) 184n38 Miyoshi Shōraku 31, 89, 107, 150, 171, 176 Moritsuna (character in Genji Vanguard and Three Generations) see Sasaki Moritsuna Moritsuna’s Camp (Act of) 146, 155–​160, 172 Moronao see Kō no Moronao Morris, Ivan 115, 162 Moto’ori Norinaga 211 Motome (character in Mt. Imo and Mt. Se) 175–​181; see also Fujiwara Tankai Mount Imo and Mount Se, Precepts for Women (Mt. Imo and Mt. Se) 167–​175, 182, 188, 193, 197, 214 The Mountains (Act of) 172–​180, 188–​189 Mugen-​Noh  112 multiauthorship 97n20, 103, 154, 172 Muro Kyūsō 139 Nagasaki 3, 38, 40, 50, 216 Nagawa Kamesuke 193–​195 naimaze 212 Nakamura Nakazo I 138 Namba senki see Chronicle of Namba

224 Index Namiki Gohei 209 Namiki Senryū see Namiki Sōsuke Namiki Shōza 171, 189, 195, 209 Namiki Sōsuke 26, 89–​90, 107–​114, 130, 150–​152, 170–​171, 178 Nanakusa Shirō 32, 150; see also Amakusa Shirō Nanbantetsu Gotō no menuki see Gotō’s Sword Hilt Made of Southern Barbarian Iron Nanto Jūsangane see Thirteen Rings of the Bell in Nara Nara 2, 72, 174–​178, 182, 216 Natsumatsuri naniwa kagami see Summer Festival and the Mirrors of Osaka New Edition of the Osome-​Hisamatsu Ballad 189, 197 nihongata kai-​ishiki see Japan-​centered  order Nihon ōdai ichiran see Table of the Rulers of Japan Nihon shoki see Chronicles of Japan ningyō jōruri xvii, 209 nishi-​fū 170 Nishikawa Joken 103 Nishiki Bunryū 42 Nitobe Inazō 139 nobility of failure 101, 115–​116, 162, 208 Noda Hideki 35n51 Noh 42, 60–​61, 67, 70, 86, 106, 112, 125, 168 Noritsune see Taira no Noritsune Northern and Southern Courts 102–​106, 116, 152, 214 Numazu (dan of) 198–​199, 201

Ōmi Genji senjin yakata see Genji Vanguard in Ōmi Province Omiwa (character in Mount Imo and Mount Se) 173–​178, 181–​182, 184n35, 201 Ōmu rōchūki see Parrot in the Cage On’na daigaku see Great Learning for Women On’na imagawa see Textbooks for Women’s Learning On’na teikin see Textbooks for Women’s Learning Onikage musashi abumi 129 Onmyōdo 59, 63, 67–​69, 73 onmyōji 63–​70, 72, 74 onomatopoeia 25 Orikuchi Shinobu 70 Orphan of China 1 Osaka: bookshops 163n12; and censorship 129, 151–​153; city design 3–​4, 8; and discriminated communities 71, 74; geography 2–​3, 216; history 2, 147, 184n36; philosophy of Osaka people 162; population 3, 6; theatre district 5–​6, 170, 207 Osaka Bay 2, 191, 209 Osaka Castle 3, 148, 151, 172, 194 Osaka siege 147, 151–​153, 162–​163, 170–​171 Otani (character in Travel Game) 198–​202 outcast 46, 59, 64, 67–​75, 177 Owari domain 127–​128, 191 Ōyakazu shijūshichi-​hon see Forty-​Seven Great Arrows

Ōboshi Yuranosuke 129–​138, 189, 196, 200; see also Ōishi Kuranosuke Oda Nobunaga 146, 149–​150, 208 odamaki 177–​178 Oguri Hangan 72, 129–​130 oi’e sōdō 190–​194, 200 oi’e sōdō-​mono 192–​195 Oimatsu see Aged Pine Ōishi Kuranosuke 122, 124, 129 okagemairi 182 Okaru (character in Chūshingura) 132–​138, 180 Okayama domain 194 Okazaki (dan of) 198–​199, 201 Okinawa see Ryūkyū oku see ladies chamber Okuni dance 10

Palace of Cherry Trees Featuring 53 Stations 193–​194 Parrot in the Cage 128 Perry, Matthew 83, 97n4 Picture Book of the Taikō 15n37, 162, 208 play within a play 42, 45–​46; puppet play within a puppet play 149 pleasure quarters 6–​11, 28, 71–​74, 125–​136, 180; see also akusho Potted Trees 86 Precious Incense and Autumn Flowers of Sendai 193 Princess Kariya (Kariya-​hime) 91–​93, 180 Princess Tachibana (Tachibana-​hime) 175, 178, 181

Index  225 Princess Toki (Toki-​hime) 154–​158, 180, 201 Princess Yaegaki (Yaegaki-​hime) 180 prisoner’s dilemma 179 pun 17, 23–32, 35n51, 87, 212 puppet head 22, 31 Qianlong Emperor 1 Qing dynasty 1, 10, 39–​40, 50, 215 Raiden see Thunder and Lightning Reader of the Hearsay about Tenjiku Tokubei 171 realism 91, 189, 192, 207, 209, 212 récit de Théramène 112 Records of the Central Nation 48 revolving stage 171, 189 Romance of the Three Kingdoms 49 Romeo and Juliet 172 rōnin 124–​129, 147, 168, 196–​201 Roussel, Raymond 33–​34, 176 Russo-​Japanese War 48, 122 Ryūkyū 40, 156–​157, 161, 215 Sadaka (character in Mt. Imo and Mt. Se) 174, 179 Sagami Lay Monk and the Thousand Dogs 46 Sagami nyūdō senbiki no inu see Sagami Lay Monk and the Thousand Dogs Saikaku see Ihara Saikaku Sakakibara Masamine 127, 135 Sakata Tōjūro I 10, 134, 192 Sakura goten gojūsantsugi see Palace of Cherry Trees Featuring 53 Stations samurai: community 190–​191; difficulties 125–​127; ethics 11–​12, 127–​128, 136, 180; love 135, 180, 198; population 139; samurai way 137, 139; see also bushi, bushidō Sanada Yukimura 151–​154, 159–​162, 164n36 Sanada brothers 164n31 Sangokushi engi see Romance of the Three Kingdoms Sānguó Yǎnyì see Romance of the Three Kingdoms sarugaku 67 sarumawashi 67, 73 Sasaki Takatsuna 154–​162, 171; see also Sanada Yukimura Sasaki Moritsuna 155–​160 Sata Village (Act of) 92

Sawai Matagorō (character in Horse Charge and Travel Game) 196–​200; see also Kawai Matagorō Sawamura Chōjūrō 134 Sawamura Sōjūrō 130, 134, 189 Seimei (character in Courtly Mirror) see Abe no Seimei seiyū 212 sekai 17, 27–​30, 81, 153, 210 sekkyō-​bushi 25, 68–​75, 129, 212 selective representation see midori Sendai domain 190, 193, 211 Sengaku-​ji Temple  121 senzu manzai 67 seppuku 24, 26, 93, 122–​133, 155–​160, 197–​202 sermon ballads see sekkyō-​bushi Sesshō-​seki see Killing Stone Seto Inland Sea 2, 216 sewa-​mono 10–​12, 26–​27, 74–​75, 127, 131, 188 Shakespeare 27, 29–​30, 49, 148 shame 52–​54, 69 Shanghai 39, 44 Shigemori see Taira no Shigemori Shihei (character in Sugawara) 87–​96, 101, 108; see also Fujiwara-​no Tokihira Shimabara 32–​33, 150, 163n9, 216 Shimabara kyōgen 32 Shinjū Kamiya Jihei see Love Suicide of Kamiya Jihei Shinjū ten’no amijima see Love Suicides at Amijima Shinjū yaiba wa kōri no tsuitachi see Love Suicides in Mid-​summer with an Icy Blade Shinjū yoigōshin see Love Suicides on the Eve of the Kōshin Festival Shinoda no mori on’na urakata see Woman Fortune-​Teller in the Woods of Shinoda Shinoda Wife 61–​75 Shinodazuma see Shinoda Wife Shinpan utazaimon see New Edition of the Osome-​Hisamatsu Ballad shintei 178, 196 Shintokumaru 70 Shitobei (character in Genji Vanguard and Three Generations) see Wada Hyōe Shively, Donald H. 128, 130 Shizuka (character in Yoshitsune) 109–​111

226 Index Shizuma (character in Horse Charge and Travel Game) see Watanabe Shizuma Shogun (Tokugawa) 1–​3, 39–​40, 121–​125, 167–​168, 190, 215; and the Emperor 32, 69, 82–​84; see also Tokugawa (house of) Shogun Hidetada 83, 147, 215 Shogun Ieharu 167, 207, 215 Shogun Iemitsu 102, 215 Shogun Ienari 208 Shogun Ienobu 215 Shogun Ieshige 126, 167, 183n1, 215 Shogun Ietsugu 215 Shogun Ieyasu 82–​83, 107, 147–​154, 161, 176, 215–​217; death 148; unpopularity 148 Shogun Tsunayoshi 10, 47, 124, 168, 193, 215; satire of 46, 183n4 Shogun Yoshimune 1, 50, 59, 83, 90, 124–​139, 215; and Kyōhō Reforms 126–​128; death 167 shogunal government (Tokugawa) 38–​40, 48–​49, 69, 83, 97n4, 102 see also bakufu, Edo government, Tokugawa (regime) shogunate (Tokugawa) 1–​2, 40, 82, 147, 167–​169, 215; see also Ashikaga shogunate, Kamakura shogunate shōhon 17–​18 shōrui awaremi no rei see Laws of Compassion Shōtoku era 47 shukō 28–​30, 87, 210 shukun oshikome 191 Shura mono 106 Shusse yakko osana monogatari see Story of Rising Young Tigers shūtanba 197 Sidotti, Giovanni Battista 41 Sightseeing Carriage of the Priest Kenkō 129 Sinocentric tributary system 40, 83 Sino-​Japanese War 54, 122 sobayōnin 167–​168, 183n5, 193 Soga Heir 15n37, 28–​29 Soga no Emishi 173–​174 Soga no Iruka 173–​181 Some moyō imose no kadomatsu 203n5 Sonezaki shinjū see Love Suicides at Sonezaki Sophocles 29 Story of Abe no Seimei 63–​68 Story of Rising Young Tigers 150

story world see sekai Strindberg, August 202 Suga Sensuke 188–​189 Sugawara and the Secrets of Calligraphy (Sugawara) 81–​97, 107–​108, 158, 174, 180, 214–​216 Sugawara no Michizane 81–​89, 91–​97, 101, 108, 216 Sushi Shop (Act of) 26, 110–​114 Summer Festival and the Mirrors of Osaka 131 Table of the Rulers of Japan 29, 102–​103 Tachibana-​hime (character in Mt. Imo and Mt. Se) see Princess Tachibana tachiyaku 197 Taihei kabuto no kazari see Decorations for a Helmet for Great Peace, Taiheiki 12, 101–​107, 115–​116, 120–​121, 127–​139, 214–​215; see also Chronicle of Great Peace Taiheiki-​yomi  104 Taika no Kaishin see Taika Reforms Taika Reforms 172 Taikō 149, 161–​162, 163n3 Taikōki see Chronicle of Taikō Taikōki-​mono 162 Taira no Kiyomori 116 Taira no Koremori 108–​115, 158 Taira no Noritsune 111–​116 Taira no Shigemori 110–​114 Taira no Tomomori 109–​112 Taishokan see Great Chancellor Taiwan 39, 49–​51, 54 Takasago see Taiwan Takatsuna (character in Genji Vanguard and Three Generations) see Sasaki Takatsuna Takauji see Ashikaga Takauji Takayama Hikokurō 211 Takeda (family) 60, 90, 169 Takeda Izumo I 42–​47, 60–​64, 73–​75, 89–​90, 150; death 107 Takeda Izumo II 9, 60, 89–​90, 107, 131, 150; death 171 Takeda Ōmi 60 Takemoto Gidayū 30, 42, 60, 73, 170, 177 Takemoto Konotayū 141n46 Takemoto Masatayū 42 Takemoto-​za (theatre) 5, 29–​30, 42, 60, 89–​94, 138, 153, 187–​188, 197; crisis 169–​171; disintegration 207–​208

Index  227 Tale of Genji 211 Tale of the Heike 12, 25, 101–​115, 155, 214 Tang dynasty 101 Tankai (character in Mt. Imo and Mt. Se) see Fujiwara Tankai Tanuma Okitsugu 167–​169, 193, 207–​208 tatesakusha see leading playwright tayū see chanter Tenjiku Tokubei ikoku banashi see Foreign Adventures of ‘India’ Tokubei Tenjiku Tokubei kikigaki ōrai see Reader of the Hearsay about Tenjiku Tokubei Tenjiku Tokubei sato no sugatami see Mirror in the Home of Tenjiku Tokubei Tenjin 84–​86, 94 Tenjin festival 6, 86 Tenjinki see Chronicle of the Tenjin Tenmei famine 207 Ten-​nō 84 terakoya 85, 87, 91, 93, 182; number of schools in Osaka 97n22 Terakoya (Act of) 93, 96 Tethered Steed and the Eight Provinces of Kanto 59 Textbooks for Women’s Learning 182 Thirteen Rings of the Bell in Nara 184n40 Thunder and Lightning 86 three-​man puppet 18, 62, 188 Tōkaidō road 198–​199, 217 Tokaiya (Act of) 112 Toki-​hime (character in Genji Vanguard and Three Generations) see Princess Toki Tokihira see Fujiwara no Tokihira Tokimasa (character in Genji Vanguard and Three Generations) see Hōjō Tokimasa Tokugawa: house of 127, 146–​148, 151–​152, 163n19; regime 82–​83, 126–​128, 146–​149, 151, 190, 211 Tokugawa Mitsukuni 102 Tokugawa Muneharu 127–​128, 135, 191 Tokugawa period 149, 167; see also Edo period Tokyo 2, 121, 217 Tomb of the Beast in Yamashiro Province 171 Tomomori (character in Yoshitsune) see Taira-​no Tomomori Tōsen-​banashi ima-​Kokusen’ya see Chinese Boat: A Modern Coxinga Toyotake Echizen-​no-​shōjō 169

Toyotake Konokichi-​za (theatre) 170, 188, 197, 207–​208 Toyotake Konotayū II 170 Toyotake Wakatayū I 169–​170, 177; see also Toyotake Echizen-​no-​shōjō Toyotake-​za (theatre) 5, 42, 61, 89–​90, 169–​170, 187–​188, 197, 207–​208 Toyotomi (house of) 107, 146–​152, 162, 183n19, 215 Toyotomi Hideyori 147–​148, 152, 1​ 54, 160, ​162 Toyotomi Hideyoshi 2, 39–​54, 83, 146–​151, 171–​172, 215; Mashiba Hisayoshi 149–​150, 208; see also Taikō transformation of the Chinese world order 47 Travel Game while Crossing Iga (Travel Game) 187–​207, 217 Treasury of Loyal Retainers 9–​12, 23, 120–​139, 215; see also Chūshingura Tsunayoshi see Shogun Tsunayoshi Tsuri-​Gitsune see Fox Trapping Tsurusawa Bunzō I 188 Tsurusawa Seishichi I 188 Tsuruya Nanboku IV 54, 212 tune indicators 19–​20, 34n5, n7 Twins at the River of Sumida 76n15 Tycoon 1, 59, 83, 97n4, 126 Uemura Bunrakuken I 209 Uesugi (Lord) 124, 196, 198, 204n36 Uji-​no-​kata (character in Genji Vanguard and Three Generations) see Lady Uji ukiyo-​e 9, 114, 209, 211 unreliable narration 26 urban graveyard effect 7 Ur-​Shinodazuma 68–​70, 72–​73, 75 Valuable Notes on Playwriting 28 Vengeance at Iga Pass 203n12; see also Travel Game Wada Hyōe 154–​158; see also Gotō Matabei waka 33, 34n6, 72–​73, 85, 87, 94 war chronicle 101, 103–​106, 127, 149, 151 Watanabe Shizuma 195–​201 Watōnai (character in Coxinga) 18–​22, 43–​49, 52–​53 Woman Fortune-​Teller in the Woods of Shinoda 61, 66 world system 211

228 Index Yaegaki-​hime see Princess Yaegaki Yamaga Sokō 48, 128 Yamagata Dai’ni 161 Yamamoto Shichihei 82 yamashi 168, 171 Yamashiro no kuni chikushō zuka see Tomb of the Beast in Yamashiro Province Yamashiro Province 171, 177, 182 yamato gokoro 211 Yamato Province 31, 67, 74, 110, 177–​181, 195 Yanagisawa Yoshiyasu 47, 183n4, 193 Yasuke (character in Yoshitsune) 110, 113; see also Taira no Koremori Yasuna see Abe no Yasuna yatsushi 11, 112, 134 Yazaemon (character in Yoshitsune) 25–​26, 110, 113–​115, 158 yin-​yang 63, 179 Yori’ie (character in Genji Vanguard and Three Generations) see Minamoto-​no Yori’ie Yoritomo see Minamoto no Yoritomo Yoroboshi 70 Yoshida Bunzaburō 141n47, 189

Yoshimune see Shogun Yoshimune Yoshino (Mount) 110, 116 Yoshino (River) 179 Yoshitsune see Minamoto no Yoshitsune Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees (Yoshitsune) 25, 31, 74, 101–​116, 210, 214 Yoshitsune Koshigoejō see Yoshitsune’s Letter at Koshigoe Yoshitsune shintakatachi see Yoshitsune’s Residence of Shintakatachi Yoshitsune’s Letter at Koshigoe 153 Yoshitsune’s Residence of Shintakatachi 151 Yotsugi soga see Soga Heir Yūgiri awa no naruto see Yūgiri of Awa’s Straits of Natuto Yūgiri of Awa’s Straits of Natuto 15n33 Yuranosuke (character in Chūshingura) see Ōboshi Yuranosuke Yūshoku Kamakura-​yama 212n6 Zeami 71, 86, 106 Zheng Chenggong 39, 48 Zheng Zhilong 39, 48, 82 zuryō 176–​177