Among the numerous collections of short tales by Ihara Saikaku (1642-1693; Figure 1), one of the most distinguished novelists in seventeenth-century Japan, his magnum opus is no doubt
The tale in volume 2, number 4, of Nihon Eitaigura
The tale in number 4 of volume 2 of the collection, entitled ‘Tengu wa iena no kazaguruma’, is a case in point. It unfolds as follows.
The fishery village of Taiji, Wakayama, has a master of harpooning, whose given name is Gennai, family name Tengu, and house flag of a pinwheel (‘kazaguruma’ in Japanese). He led the local whaling industry to prosperity not only by taking by far more whales than anyone else but also by ingeniously producing oil from disused whale bone fat. The prosperity accelerated as he devised a collective way to whale using fishing nets and organised the fishery profession beyond his native village. These also procured him not just enormous wealth but also wide reverence.
Gennai was also devout, practicing his religion at Nishinomiya Ebisu Shrine (a shrine which is located at Nishinomiya, a pivotal place for transportation about 130km away from his village in a straight line but in much more distance by sea). Such was his faith that his annual pilgrimage to the shrine on the early morning of the tenth day of the new year lasted for over two decades, the festive morning event in every year which continues at the same shrine to date, known as ‘Toka-Ebisu’.
On the tenth day of a year, however, he woke up so late that he could by no means arrive at the shrine in the morning. Too late though it was, he rushed in a high-speed boat with twenty oars, but not until night fell did he come ashore at Nishinomiya. He saw no visitors around the shrine any longer, nor was he received by any shrinemen; he could not but turn back with his resentment finding no outlet. While lying still in frustration aboard back, he dreamt a sleeping or waking dream, in which Ebisu, the god enshrined at Nishinomiya, made his appearance to reveal an oracle or divine instruction to him to the effect that Gennai could and should carry his caught sea breams fresh to more distant consumers by pricking them with a needle. Back in Taiji he followed the instruction to see his market more expanded and, thereby, his wealth more accrued.
Ebisu at Nishinomiya and sea breams
As many commentators have pointed it out, it is Taichi Kakuuemon (1623-1699) that is the most possible real person that Saikaku might have borne in mind writing this tale. Kakuuemon is noted to have revolutionised whaling from a simple way of harpooning to a combining way of netting and harpooning (Figure 3, the supposedly oldest extant graphic representation about whaling, reproduced from volume 2, number 4, of
First of all, this story may well draw our attention to the deity of Ebisu and its relationship to the significance of the sea bream. Nishinomiya Ebisu Shrine is today called simply ‘Nishinomiya Shrine’, but its official name in the seventeenth century was ‘Nishinomiya Ebisu Daimyo Shrine’, as the record of building its main architecture in July 1663 shows. As
Ebisu is featured in
The quintessential figure of Ebisu in graphic description features a lovely combination of ample body and smiley face, with a fishing-rod on his right shoulder and a sea bream under his left arm (Figure 5). As a matter of fact, there are hardly any exceptions. Considered to be a symbolic representation of the enjoyable gift of sea bream—the most popular, supposedly luxurious and divine fish—, this demonstrates how common among sailors and fishermen was the conception or even aspiration that the deity of Ebisu should not be parsimonious or punitive but liberal and supportive. It is not too digressive to remark here that this is the case with Inari, god of the land, regarded in worship mainly by farmers and peasants across the nation, with Fushimi Inari Shrine, Kyoto, enjoying the pivotal place comparable to that of Nishinomiya Ebisu Shrine.
Simply put, Ebisu as well as Inari was a god for a good harvest. Since a good harvest was obviously beneficial to all members of the community, Ebisu was worshiped as coming up with a blessed visitation to the whole. The ascending dominance of the cash nexus, however, led many to doubt the obvious; since the market economy made a good harvest give profits to some but losses to others within the same community, Ebisu was no longer for the communal happiness but rather a god to which to pray for one’s personal gain. It was the Edo era that witnessed this change in divinity of Ebisu.
Another pivotal role played by Nishinomiya Ebisu Shrine was in diffusing Bunraku (Figure 7). As mentioned above, Ebisu has a fishing-rod on his right shoulder and a sea bream under his left arm, but, as is often unattended, he uses a small shrimp as bait. That is a representation of a bonanza, bearing in mind that whereas shrimps were commonplace, sea breams were scarce. To stand for this bonanza, as is well known, the dance called ‘Dance for Ebisu (Ebisu-Mai)’ (Figure 6) was born and was later turned into a puppet theatre for larger audience. This puppet theatre was toured across the nation by puppeteers, the profession which was organised and controlled under Nishinomiya Ebisu Shrine and allegedly instrumental for intelligence activities in the Medieval era or the Warring States period. Either way, the puppet theatre was combined with the popular version of music called ‘Joruri-Bushi’ to gain huge popularity as ‘Ningyo (puppetry)-Joruri’ in the Edo era, boasting Chikamatsu Monzaemon (1653-1725), the most famous scriptwriter. This form of poppet theatre is still popular while today known as Bunraku.
Before proceeding to the next section, let us account succinctly for how Gennai treated his caught sea breams, as described in
The early-morning boat pilgrimage to Nishinomiya Ebisu Shrine
Saikaku’s story about Gennai has another episode relevant to our purpose; his failed early-morning pilgrimage to Nishinomiya Ebisu Shrine by sea. One can watch TV news shows on the 10th January every year that report that hardly does the shrine open its gate in the early morning before many young men rush in for its central building in competition with one another, and that the shrine awards the winner the prize ‘The Lucky Boy of the Year’. But no one hears in detail of how this avowedly old racing event developed over time. Interestingly enough, Saikaku in his
That the annual boat race at Nishinomiya, on the 10th of January, attracted many fearless sailors seeking the crown, is implied in an early-modern tale that dates from 330 years ago, and it is very likely. All novels and tales are not too unreliable for historiography.
Henrich Schliemann (1822-1890), a German archaeologist, discovered the ancient remains of Troy along with the Mycenaean sites, led by his belief that that Homer’s