Haiku, Japan, and the misunderstood
A short but delightful video about a Japanese maker of traditional toys, mainly tops and related wooden toys.
A fourth-generation toy maker, Masaaki Hiroi, crafts intricate mechanical toys, no batteries required. At 80 years old, Hiroi only wishes he could live longer.
I hope there is a fifth-generation he’s teaching his craft to.
A collection of 103 original drawings by Hokusai has been rediscovered, part of what was essentially going to be an encyclopaedia.
The Great Picture Book of Everything was to have been a comprehensive way for the Japanese to have access to images of people, cultures and nature around the world – at a time when virtually no Japanese people had been allowed out of Japan for some two centuries – and virtually no foreigners had been allowed into 99 per cent of the country.
In that ultra-restrictive atmosphere, the project was to have given people an opportunity to explore a highly stylised printed version of the outside world as well as Japan itself.
Unfortunately it was never finished.
The project was abandoned in the 1830s – either because of cost or possibly because Hokusai insisted on reproduction standards that were difficult to attain.
You can see the entire collection at the Boston Museum of Art (link below). Some of these photos are amazing.
A few samples:
Autumns can be magical in Japan, especially in places thick with Japanese maples, which turn a deep blazing red. Shrines, too, carry an otherworldly air with their quiet grounds and guardian statues. Combine the two and you get something really special, as I did in the following haiku:
狛犬よ友よともにや紅葉見る
komainu yo tomoyo tomo ni ya momiji chiru
komainu, old friend
let us watch the red leaves fall
autumn at the shrine
— Tenjōka[1]
I enjoy spending time at the shrines of Japan. The smaller ones are usually quiet and peaceful. They might be located in busy areas, between buildings or next to busy roads, but they are crammed full of nature which often does a good job of absorbing much of the outside noise, leaving a sanctuary of sorts.
This photo is from a past autumn. On this particular visit, I was inspired to compose the haiku at the top of this post.
Some misc info about the stone statue you see. I have a post about this somewhere in my archives that I will restore one of these days, but until then…
Komainu (狛犬)[2] is a kind of lion-dog that protects against evil. The word itself means Korean Dog. Presumably when they came over by way of Korea with Buddhism, the Japanese thought they looked like dogs so named them accordingly.[3] In China they are suppose to be lions, hence the typical English translation lion-dog.[4] The lion is often associated with the teachings of the Buddha, where it is said that the teachings of the Buddha hit people like the roar of a lion.
There are always two komainu together, often flanking the entrance or path to a shrine: one with mouth open (阿, a), and one with mouth closed (吽, un). Together they represent the beginning and the end of all things or अ–हुँ (a-hūṃ) in Sanskrit, an idea also represented by the seed syllable that will be familar to many of you: ॐ (om).[5]
But—I hear you cry—why are Buddhist lion-dog guardian statues in a Shinto Shrine if they are, y’know, Buddhist? Ah, now there’s a question! One that will have to wait for next time, Grasshopper.[6]
So here we have a Buddhist lion-dog statue from Korea — originally from India, moving East by way of China — guarding a Shinto shrine and enjoying the leaves. Then there’s me, the strange foreigner who likes to talk to statues. Hmm.
That’s me! I’m playing with using it as a penname. See here. ↩
pronounced koh-my-new ↩
“Koma” likely referred to Korea as a whole, but some scholars suggest it may have specifically meant Goguryeo — one of the three Korean kingdoms at the time, and the one most closely allied with Japan. ↩
In English these statues are often (mistakenly) called “fu dogs.” The mix-up comes from a mistranslation long ago, probably confusing 獅 (shī, “lion”) with 福 (fú, “good fortune”). In China they’re properly called guardian lions (shī), which in Japan became shishi (獅子). Komainu is the more common Japanese term. ↩
अ–हुँ was transliterated in Japanese as 阿吽 (a–un). As you can see above, that word was then broken up to give each komainu their name. Often 形 (gyō, shape) will be attached, making their names 阿形 (agyō) and 吽形 (ungyō). ↩
preview: for much of Japanese history, Shinto was a part of Buddhism. If you are a history/mythology nerd like me and want the technical word for this, it’s Shinbutsu-shūgō (神仏習合). ↩
There are moments when all anxiety and stated toil are becalmed in the infinite leisure and repose of nature. —Thoreau
I think I was chasing my kids. Or they were chasing me. Not sure. It might have been one of those games parents play, where we tell them to go hide and then we give ourselves several minutes of peace and quiet before actually looking for them. Whatever the case may be, the landscape called out; luckily my camera was with me.
“Hōichi, my poor friend, you are now in great danger! How unfortunate that you did not tell me all this before! Your wonderful skill in music has indeed brought you into strange trouble. By this time you must be aware that you have not been visiting any house whatever, but have been passing your nights in the cemetery, among the tombs of the Heiké—and it was before the memorial-tomb of Antoku Tennō that our people tonight found you, sitting in the rain. All that you have been imagining was illusion—except the calling of the dead. By once obeying them, you have put yourself in their power. If you obey them again, after what has already occurred, they will tear you in pieces. But they would have destroyed you, sooner or later, in any event. Now I shall not be able to remain with you tonight: I am called away to perform another service. But, before I go, it will be necessary to protect your body by writing holy texts upon it.”
This is from Lafcadio Hearn’s excellent adaption of the traditional Japanese ghost story Mimi-Nashi Hōichi, or Hōichi the Earless. I have reproduced his version along with some of my own annotations. If you look at the menu above, you will see I added a page called “The Library”. Follow that link to find Hōichi. (Or just click here).