“Mount Fugi from Mount Katsuragi” by Toshi Yoshida
This is one of Issa’s most famous haiku. As such, you may have seen it before, or some variation of it. Often with haiku translations floating around, they are more the product of the mind of the translator than the original poet3, but if you ever see one with a snail and Mt Fuji, it’s probably this one.
There are various interpretations of it. Many people take it to mean persevere and you can accomplish anything, and indeed that is the meaning I’m playfully hinting at with the title to this post. Blyth, however, had a different interpretation. He wrote:
If you are a snail, be a snail. And if as a snail you climb, follow your snail nature, your Buddha nature, and climb slowly, slowly!
In other words, be as you are, and if you are a snail being as you are means moving or climbing slowly, whether it be a small incline or the grand Mount Fuji.
I think that’s more on the mark. Trying to stuff a motivational message in a poem doesn’t really fit with any of the ideals of early hokku poets, nor does it fit with any of Issa’s other poems. Issa was kind to all creatures and talked to them as if they were his friends. Here he is talking to his friend, telling it to be itself and climb the mountain slowly as is its nature.
No knock against this. Some of them are really wonderful interpretations of the original and stand on their own. Robert Hass has an entire haiku book full of these. But this style of translation is much more interpretation than translation. Then again, I’m well aware that this is an ongoing and never-ending debate. All translation, some would argue, is interpretation and the only way to get the exact original flavor is to read something in the original language. ↩
A traditional looking window brings back visions of Japan’s past.
If you have looked at anything with Japanese dates, you have probably seen names like Shōwa 21, Taishō 5, or Reiwa 2. What’s the deal with these?
When using the traditional calendar in Japan, years are given according to how many years the emperor has been in power. This year, for example, 2020 on the Western Calendar, is called Reiwa 2 (令和２) in the Japanese system, meaning the second year of Reiwa, which is the name given to the reign of Emperor Naruhito. A handful of years ago, 2015, was Heisei 27—Heisei being the era name given to his father, Emperor Akihito. Heisei means peace everywhere, and Reiwa means beautiful harmony. When they die, they will posthumously be referred to as Emperor Reiwa and Emperor Heisei respectively.
Shōwa Era
The current emperor’s grandfather was Emperor Shōwa, better known in the West as Hirohito. Emperor Shōwa reigned from 1926 to 1989 and this time period is referred to as the Shōwa Era. So when you see a date of Shōwa 43, for example, that means 1968.
Although the Shōwa era started on a rather bad note with an out of control military, the later years of it, from about the 60s to the end, are viewed very positively by many Japanese. It was during this time that Japan rapidly changed from a defeated, poor country to the second largest economy in the world—the so-called Japanese Miracle. Many older Japanese look back at the Shōwa era with a sense of nostalgia and a longing for the good old days when the world was peaceful, more innocent, and made sense: kind of similar to the way many Americans view the 50s.
Shōwa 昭和 means enlightened peace, by the way. Though the first few years of Shōwa obviously fell short of that meaning, the second half arguably lived up to the name.
Taishō and Meiji
1912 to 1926 was the Taishō 大正 era, a name meaning great righteousness. Emperor Taishō was a sickly man, so for much of the latter half of his reign until his death, his son, Emperor Shōwa, was actually the guy running things.
Stepping back one more, from the opening of Japan to the West in 1868 until 1912, was the Meiji era. Meiji 明治 means enlightened rule.
Before this they also used era names, but the system was a bit more confusing, with emperors declaring new eras basically whenever they wanted. Chances are you will never run into a pre-Meiji date unless you read a lot of historic texts, but if you do… good luck to you.
The Polite Way to Do It
Once an emperor dies and takes on the name of his era, people never refer to him by his given name. So Japanese people will never1 refer to Emperor Shōwa as Hirohito or Emperor Meiji as Mutsuhito.2
Outside of Japan, using posthumous names can be confusing, at least for Hirohito/Shōwa. Some Western historians try to thread this naming needle by using the era name as a title instead of as a name, leaving them room to use the emperor’s given name when clarity is required. For example, they will speak of “The Shōwa emperor” instead of saying “Emperor Shōwa”, or if needed “The Shōwa emperor, Hirohito”.
The Japanese never call the current emperor by his given name either. Only foreigners call him Emperor Naruhito. Japanese call him Tennō Heika (“His Majesty the heavenly sovereign”). His retired father is also not called Emperor Akihito, or retired-Emperor Akihito, but rather Jōkō (上皇, Emperor Emeritus), an abbreviated form of Daijō Tennō.
Every year fewer and fewer places in Japan cling to this old system, but the government is one of them so you will still come across these dates, and of course if you read anything historical you are likely to come across them. Just remember: when all else fails, use Google.3
Except, perhaps, in historic contexts or when talking to a foreigner. ↩
Few people probably even know his given name, so you’d get blank looks if you did. ↩
上行くと下来る雲や秋の空 ue yuku to shita kuru kumo ya aki no sora1
clouds floating above
and floating below
autumn’s sky
—Boncho2
(“Autumn Clouds” by Hideo Hagiwara)
The clear autumn sky in Japan is a wonder to behold, but it can also be somewhat confusing at times, as Boncho describes in this haiku, with different layers of clouds going in different speeds, even seemingly going in different directions, as the seasonal winds blow to and fro. The Japanese actually tells us “Clouds going above / clouds coming below”. This is typhoon season in Japan; these complex winds always bring at least a handful of the powerful storms to the islands.
There are two proverbs in Japanese mentioning this changeable autumn sky and comparing it with human folly. Essentially they are the same, one for each gender. They say “A man’s heart is like the autumn sky” and “A woman’s heart is like the autumn sky”.3 I suppose pick the one needed for any given situation.
The first is 男心と秋の空 (otokogokoro to aki no sora), and the second is 女心と秋の空 (onnagokoro to aki no sora). 心 could mean either heart or mind depending on context, so we could also translate these as “A woman’s/man’s mind is like the autumn sky.” ↩
I wade into the river
That runs to the promised land
—Billy Joel
Did you ever dream of a place that seemed so real that upon waking you were sure it was a real place and sure you had actually been there in real life, but you couldn’t quite remember the exact location nor the route to get there?
Just like that river Joel was singing of,1 there seemed a dreamy quality to this one, as if of a secret place, a hidden place, a place you can only remember the way to in your dreams.
Incidentally, I took this photo with Hipstamatic, which is possibly my favorite photo app on the iPhone, and has been for the past decade. If you have it and want to try for your own version of this photo, I used the Sergio lens and Cheshire film.
In River of Dreams, from the album of the same name. The entire record is fantastic, so if you haven’t heard it, you owe yourself to give it a listen. ↩
Speaking of Old Japan, I’m sure some of you may have heard of blackened teeth being a traditional sign of beauty in Japan. It was, and can still be seen sometimes (though only for reenactment purposes as far as I know)
Called ohaguro1 (お歯黒), it started around the 8th century and continued up until fairly recently, only starting to fade after the Japanese government banned the practice in 1870 in an effort to modernize the country2.
It may look strange and distasteful to us today, but how will some of our fashions today look to people in a few hundred years? At any rate, it did have benefits beyond those of fashion. It is thought to have strengthened the teeth and protected them from cavities and other gum diseases.
Follow the following link for more details on the practice, as well as a brief look at a yokai who still practices the art.
