Author Archives: Matt

A-Yokai-A-Day: The Tanuki’s Wedding; or, The Miraculous Walking Stick

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Tonight’s yokai is another animal beloved by all: the tanuki. Tanuki are one of the most common animal yokai found in Japanese folklore, and they are well known for playing tricks and pranks. Sometimes their pranks even get nasty, but tanuki are only very rarely truly wicked. Most of the time their pranks are harmless, or their secret is exposed before they have the chance to do something truly awful.

Since I live in a rural part of Japan, I’m lucky that I get to see tanuki frequently. Around this time of year, I see tanuki just about every day. They visit my home several times per night and I catch them on my outdoor cameras, and they lazily scurry away from the road when I take evening walks. They are very cute and fun to see, with their bushy tails and round, fat butts.

I have yet to see one do magic, though!

The Tanuki’s Wedding; or, The Miraculous Walking Stick

In Kamiyama, Tanba Province, there was a farmer named Utsunomiya Kohyōe. He had four daughters, three old whom were married, but the youngest was not yet married. A rich farmer from a neighboring village heard about this and introduced himself and, with the help of a matchmaker, quickly arranged a marriage date with the youngest daughter.

However, two or three days before the arranged day, the matchmaker came to the farmer and said, “The date that we agreed upon has unexpectedly become a problem, so we would like to change it to one day earlier. That is to say, the bridegroom will come first, and then the following day the bride and bridegroom will return home together.”

The daughter and the father both agreed to the change. And so the arranged day arrived, and the bride’s sisters and their husbands all came to the house. And as the sun set, the bridegroom, his guests, and the matchmaker all came to the house and laid their gifts for the bride’s father, and various gifts were laid out in the tatami room.

The eldest sister’s family was late in arriving because they lived farther away, and she always carried a staff with scriptures carved into it as a walking stick with her when she traveled at night so that she would not encounter any evil spirits on the road. On this night, too, she came with her walking stick.

The eldest sister wanted to peek at the bridegroom, so she walked around to the back of the house and pushed open the bamboo window screen with her walking stick. She saw a group of old, balding tanuki drinking sake and merrymaking. Astonished, she called her husband over and told him to look, but when he did, all he saw were people.

To the sister’s eyes they looked like regular old tanuki, and the objects that were lined up in the tatami room like gifts were all just the bones of horses and cattle. She became suspicious, thought for a moment, then she lifted up the bamboo screen with her walking stick again and showed her husband. Truly, the bridegroom and every one of his guests were all old tanuki. Her husband was so astonished that he quietly called over his brothers-in-law. He explained everything to them and said, “Let us not be fooled!”

They sealed the back door and windows, and blocked off the veranda. Then they went into the tatami room and introduced themselves to the bridegroom, and offered to pour him some sake. Once they were close enough, they suddenly grabbed the bridegroom by the arms and held him as tightly as possible, pinned him down, and said, “You are a loathsome fiend!”

The guests and the matchmaker cried out, “This is an outrage!”

But the brothers-in-law held the bridegroom tightly, drew their wakizashi, and stabbed him through.

The father of the bride was shocked. “Have you gone mad?” he cried, but they did not listen. They proceeded to slay all of the bridegroom’s servants and companions, who cried out, “We are all humans! Please forgive us!” They tried to escape underneath the veranda and through the windows, but there was no way out. When everyone was slain, they saw that they were all elderly tanuki.

Everyone was astonished, and the following day, the real bridegroom arrived and they had the real wedding party. It was all thanks to the power of the holy walking stick.

A-Yokai-A-Day: The Nekomata That Changed into Itō Genroku’s Wife

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The yokai in tonight’s story is a fan favorite: the two-tailed version of a bakeneko, known as a nekomata. In a way it’s almost a touching story, about a pet who loves its master so much that it would do the unthinkable. On the other hand, it’s equally horrifying. Why make up such a lie? What were the cat’s long-term plans? Was the cat behind the wife’s death in the first place? Knowing that this was a nekomata, all sorts of nefarious answers pop into mind… In any case, go hug your pets!

The Nekomata That Changed into Itō Genroku’s Wife

In Shinobu, Oshū, there was a man around 20 years old named Itō Genroku. He was a skillful man with a kind heart, and people came from all over to ask him to become their son-in-law.

He heard that a certain person in the same province had a beautiful daughter, so he invited her to come and be his wife. But while they fell deeply for each other, the new wife caught a slight cold and ended up dying. Genroku was deeply grieved; he shut himself away in his home and never left, spending all of his time pining for his wife.

One day, a friend of his named Takeuchi Hyōe came to give his sympathy for Genroku’s pain. He entered Genroku’s room, they talked for a while, and then he left; but something troubled him about Genroku’s condition, so he secretly reached out to Genroku’s parents and said, “There’s something strange about Genroku’s condition, so please check in on him every night.”

That night, Genroku’s parents creeped close to Genroku’s bedroom and listened. In the early hours of the morning, after everyone had gone to bed, they heard an unknown woman’s voice speaking affectionately to him. Genroku’s parents were astonished, and when morning came they called Hyōe and told him about the intimate conversation they heard.

“I thought so…” said Hyōe. They summoned Genroku to his parents’ room and spent the night drinking and merrymaking, while Hyōe went to Genroku’s bedroom and waited. Sure enough, in the early hours of the morning after everyone had gone to sleep, a woman’s voice came out of nowhere and said affectionately, “I’m here.”

Hyōe hid underneath the blankets. The woman said, “Why don’t you speak to me tonight? Are you angry because I am late? I arrived late because I ran into some trouble.” She begged him for forgiveness and pulled back the covers to climb into bed. Hyōe looked up and saw that her mouth was split open from ear to ear and she had horns sprouting from her head, but her black penciled-on eyebrows, red and white makeup, and styled up bangs looked exactly like Genroku’s wife.

Hyōe said, “I’ve got you!” He seized her and stabbed her with both of his swords. Their fight was so chaotic that the noise made people light lanterns and come to see. In the lantern light, Hyōe was able to overpower her, and he stabbed her over and over. Upon closer inspection, it was Genroku’s pet cat of many years.

When Hyōe told what happened to Genroku, Genroku was astonished and grateful. He explained, “Seven days after my wife died, she appeared to me and said, ‘I was resurrected by Lord Enma, under instruction that for one hundred days we must tell nobody about this. During that time, I will visit you in secret. You must not let anybody know about this!’ Until now, I kept everything under wraps. So, it turns out she was a nekomata… Thanks to you, Hyōe, my life was saved.”

A-Yokai-A-Day: The Tumors of Heirokuzaemon of Shimōsa Province’s Father

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Tonight’s story once again deals with the topic of attachment, as in the Buddhist sin of improper attachment to others. And like several stories we’ve read so far, it uses snakes as a symbol of that attachment. In this case, the suffering caused by attachment is pretty extreme, and it’s hard not to feel sorry for the father.

The Tumors of Heirokuzaemon of Shimōsa Province’s Father

In a place called Yokkaichi in Usui, Shimōsa Province, there was a man named Heirokuzaemon. One time an itinerant monk came to his place and asked for lodging. Although he had asked for a room, the monk stayed up all night long reciting the Lotus Sutra without sleeping. Throughout the night, he heard something moaning, “Look… Look…” on the other side of a shōji partition.

The monk was bewildered. In the morning he asked Heirokuzaemon, “Do you have a puppy in the other room? Something was moaning all night long.”

Heirokuzaemon replied, “I am ashamed, but as you are a monk let me tell you. The one who was moaning is my father. For more than twelve years he has been suffering. First he developed a tumor on his right shoulder, then he developed a similar tumor on his left shoulder, and after that a large hole appeared in each of them. When he looks to his left, the right tumor says, ‘Look this way!’ Whenever he looks to his right, the left tumor says, ‘Look this way!’ He is tormented day and night by these boils telling him, Look this way! Look this way! so that he has spent the last twelve  years squatting with his hands on the floor, looking left, then looking right, over and over again. For the first five or six years I tried to help him with medical treatments and exorcisms, but they had no effect, so for the last five or six years I’ve just left him there.”

The monk listened, and then replied, “Let me meet him.”

“Very well,” said Heirokuzaemon, and he brought the monk to his father.

“Tell me about when these tumors first appeared,” said the monk to the father.

The father said, “I am ashamed to tell you this. When I was younger, I laid with a servant girl. Heiroku’s mother was the most jealous woman in the world, and she strangled the servant girl to death. Not three days after the servant girl was killed a tumor appeared on my right shoulder. Seven days after that Heiroku’s mother died, and not three days after that a tumor appeared on my left shoulder. Both tumors tell me, ‘Look this way! Look this way!’ and if I refuse even once, the pain becomes so unbearable, like being strangled to death. For the past twelve years they have been ordering me to look at them without rest.”

The monk listened carefully and replied, “Then, let me say a prayer for you.” He uncovered the father’s shoulders, sat behind him, faced the tumors, and recited the Lotus Sutra. Doing so, a tiny snake stuck its head out of the hole in the right tumor. The monk recited faster and with pausing, and soon the snake’s head stuck out nine centimeters. Holding the sutra in his hand, the monk pulled the snake out of the hole. Then he turned towards the left tumor and recited the sutra, and a snake stuck out its head just like before, so holding the sutra in his hand, he pulled that snake out of the hole. He constructed two burial mounds for the snakes, recited prayers over them and mourned them.

Afterwards, the tumors healed and the holes closed up. Both father and son were overcome with gratification. It is said that everyone in this area became devout believers in the Lotus Sutra.

A-Yokai-A-Day: The Ghost of Shimazu Tōshirō’s Wife

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Tonight’s story is a classic ghost story. The ghost has all of the standard elements: the white kimono, the disheveled, long hair, blackened teeth; and she visits every night and stares into the window! Ooh, I just got chills!

I especially love the nonchalant response by Tōshirō at the end. “Oh yeah, that’s my wife.” And Kyūan noping right out of there and back to Kyoto is icing on the cake.

Fantastic! Enjoy this one.

The Ghost of Shimazu Tōshirō’s Wife

A man named Shimazu Tōshirō from Owari Prefecture was a disciple of Shundō and a great reciter of noh, and frequently performed in front of audiences. One of his friends was a man from Tsu in Ise named Kyūan, who frequently constructed gardens. He was Tōshirō’s best friend, and one day he visited him in Owari to talk about the good old days.

It was the middle of June, and they hung up a mosquito net and told stories late into the night, and before long Tōshirō fell asleep. Kyūan wasn’t yet able to fall asleep when he saw a woman around 40 years old, with disheveled hair as long as her body, blackened teeth, and a white kimono gazing longingly through the lattice window. Kyūan thought for sure that this woman must be Tōshirō’s longtime mistress, so he pretended not to notice her, and by dawn she was nowhere to be found.

The following night the same thing happened. Kyūan, filled with uneasiness, waited impatiently for dawn to break. In the morning he told Tōshirō everything that had happened. “Clearly you have an arrangement with this woman to come and see you at night. From tonight on, I will sleep in a separate room,” he said.

Tōshirō replied, “This is an embarrassing story, but I will tell you. When I was in Kyōto I had a fling with a woman, and I ended up I bringing her back home with me, and we were together for three years. However, one day she became sick and died. Yet she still visits me from time to time, as if her attachment to me remains.”

Kyūan was astonished. He was originally going to stay for two or three more days, but he suddenly packed up and said goodbye, and returned to Ise.

Kyūan passed away in the Kan’ei period (1624-44).

A-Yokai-A-Day: How Hasegawa Chōzaemon’s Daughter Showed Love to a Crab

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Tonight’s story talks about a snake who shapeshifts into a man, but this time the Japanese uses the term daija to refer to the snake. This is a trickier word to translate. Daija literally means “giant snake,” but they are often depicted as more than just snakes. Of course we see that they can shapeshift into human form and speak. They are often described as nushi, or guardian deities, of bodies of water. They can also covet humans sometimes and even demand human sacrifices; there are lots of old tales where a young virgin “marries” a daija as a euphemism for drowning her in the lake as a human sacrifice. The term daija can also refer not just to very big snakes, but greater monsters like uwabami or even dragons.

Speaking of dragons… my latest yokai encyclopedia, The Palace of the Dragon King, is now available from the yokai.com online shop, along with restocks of collector’s editions and hardbacks of my other books as well. So check that out if you want even more illustrated yokai!

How Hasegawa Chōzaemon’s Daughter Showed Love to a Crab

In Iyo-Matsuyama there was a man named Hasegawa Chōzaemon. He had one daughter. She was a woman with a beautiful face and a gentle spirit, who composed poems and sang songs, read and studied all of the sutras and holy scriptures, and had a deeply compassionate heart. One time she found a small crab in the wash bucket, and she scooped it up, fed it and cared for it, and loved it for a long time.

There was a deep pond near their estate. The serpent who ruled over this pond became obsessed with the girl and came to her, disguised as a man. He said to Chōzaemon, “I am the serpent who lives in the pond nearby. I have become infatuated with your daughter, so please give her to me.”

Chōzaemon thought that if he said no, the serpent would kill both him and his daughter, but he also did not want to give her to the serpent, so he broke down into tears. His daughter told him, “It is unavoidable. I must lay down my own life to save my father’s. This must be my karma from my past lives. You should give him your answer right away.”

Chōzaemon turned to the serpent and said, sobbing, “I will give you my daughter.”

The serpent was delighted. He set a date for the exchange and then left.

The girl turned to the crab and said, “I have loved you for many years, but now my life is almost over, and I must set you free.” She set the crab down in the grass and it ran away.

When the appointed date came, the serpent came into their garden, accompanied by many snakes, large and small. The horror was indescribable. The girl did not show the least bit of fear, and, carrying a crystal rosary in her right hand and the five scrolls of the Lotus Sutra in her left hand, she quickly went out into the garden.

As she did, perhaps due to the power of the sutra she carried, the snakes all suddenly drew back in fear. Then, suddenly, countless large crabs came out of nowhere and swarmed the garden. They attacked the snakes, grabbing them with their claws. The snakes were so terrified that they all fled. It truly was the power of the sutras, and the depth of the daughter’s compassion, that saved their lives.

A-Yokai-A-Day: How a Madwoman Was Mistaken for a Ghost

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Horror stories often use moments of comic relief to break up the tension so things don’t get too oppressive. Shokoku hyakumonogatari is no different. There are a few humorous stories scattered throughout the collection, and these do a great job to shake up the emotions of the reader and keep you wondering what will come next.

I imagine these kind of silly episodes helped to keep listeners’ moods up during long hyakumonogatari ghost story telling parties on Edo’s hot summer nights. Tonight’s story is a great example of part-horror, part-humor, with a fantastic punch line at the end.

How a Madwoman Was Mistaken for a Ghost

A certain man was on his way to the capital from the eastern provinces when the sun went down. It started raining and he had no place to stay, so he walked here and there until he found a shelter made of brushwood.

He entered the shelter and said, “Please let me stay the night.”

The owner came out and said, “It’s no trouble at all.”

The owner welcomed the traveler inside and asked him to light a fire as a favor; night was encroaching, and it was already 10 pm. The owner’s wife appeared ill; and later that night she died.

The owner said, “I will go to the temple and ask for a priest. Please watch over her while I am away.” Then he left.

The traveler felt uneasy. He had no choice except to stay there and watch over the house, but something about it made his hairs stand on end with fear. Occasionally, a woman around 20 years old, with a pale complexion and blackened teeth, came out of the closet and grinned at him. The traveler fainted.

As the traveler shrank back and cowered, the owner returned. The traveler was glad to see him and said, “Just now something incredible happened! It seems your wife is not yet dead. Just a moment ago, she stood in the closet door and smiled at me.”

The owner was astonished and opened the closet door to see, but his wife was as dead as she had been. He thought something was strange, so he searched around and discovered that a madwoman who lived next door and often loitered nearby was standing by the back door. He beckoned the traveler over and asked, “Was this who you saw?”

When he saw the woman, the traveler fainted again.

A-Yokai-A-Day: The Bakemono at Asama Shrine

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Tonight’s story mentions a Masamune katana and a Yoshimitsu wakizashi. These refer to two legendary swordsmiths from the Kamakura period: Masamune and Awataguchi Yoshimitsu. A sword forged by one of these masters would be powerful indeed–powerful enough to kill a demon, if wielded in the right hands. In many stories, yokai refuse to even approach a warrior carrying such a famous blade, knowing how powerful it is. In game terms, these might be the equivalent of a +1 sword that has the ability to harm supernatural creatures. Swords like these appear in many stories, and have supernatural powers themselves.

The yokai in tonight’s story first appears as a young woman carrying a baby–a pattern seen in so many different types of yokai (yuki onna or nure onna, for example).Our samurai today clearly knew about this trick and tried to avoid it, beginning with the absurd scene where he smacks the baby away with an iron staff, and ending with a disaster reminiscent of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. After that, the yokai reveals its true form as some kind of oni or fearsome kijin. It’s probably thanks to those holy swords the samurai brought with him that he was able to survive that fight!

The Bakemono at Asama Shrine

There was a certain samurai in Shinano Province. He was a strong man with a good heart. One time, he gathered his retainers and told them the following story.

“I have heard that there is a bakemono in the Asama Shrine. I am vexed that while I have been here I have not seen it with my own eyes, and so tonight I have made up my mind to go to Asama and investigate it. If even one person follows me, I will order them to commit seppuku.”

He reigned in his retainers, then took up an 81 centimeter Masamune katana and a 57 centimeter Yoshimitsu wakizashi, tucked a 30 cm armor-piercing dagger into his breast pocket, and using an iron staff large enough for 5 or 6 men as a walking stick, he set out for the Asama Shrine on a bright night lit by the mid-August moon. He sat in front of the worship hall and waited, ready to strike down any person, whoever he may be, with a single blow.

Then, a beautiful woman of about 17 or 18 years, wearing a white single-layer kimono and carrying a child of about 3 years in her arms, came from the base of the shrine. She looked at the samurai and said, “I am so happy to see you. I am spending the night at this shrine, and you will make a good companion. I am so exhausted, won’t you take him in your arms?” Then she lowered the child from her breast, and he swiftly crawled towards the samurai. The samurai struck the child with his iron staff, and the child crawled back to its mother.

The woman said, “Hold him! Hold him!” and drove the child back. After this happened five or six times the staff bent, so the samurai drew the sword from his waist and slashed the child in two. The other half of the child sprouted eyes and a nose so that there were now two children crawling towards the samurai. When he cut down both of them, the pieces again sprouted eyes and noses and became children. The number of children grew until there were two or three hundred of them, and the shrine was overflowing with children all chasing the samurai.

Then the mother said, “Now it’s my turn.” The samurai readied to cut the woman down as well if she came close to him, but then he felt a sudden chill on his back and his hairs stood on end. There was a sound like a large stone dropping behind him, and he turned around to see a thirty meter tall oni springing towards him. The samurai stabbed the oni with each of his swords successively, then pulled him in close to finish him, but then he lost consciousness.

The samurai’s retainers came running to his side and found the samurai holding his wakizashi in a backhand grip, having pierced through the pagoda’s nine ringed spire. The monster had vanished, but the samurai, who fought with such absolute determination, managed to somehow get a sword through the nine rings.