I’ve been enjoying my return to a normal sleeping pattern and 3 meals a day, and this past week has been so relaxing compared to the previous month! But I almost got carried away with my leisure and forgot that I have a website to maintain! I’ll post a few updates with new artwork and photos of some cool local places this week, but for now, for your viewing pleasure, I thought I would do a month-in-review post just to have easy access to all of the yokai. I realize it can be a bit of a pain to scroll through pages of my blog looking for the yokai you want to read about. (Hmmm… now that I have a bit of free time maybe I can do some site design…)

Also, the Japanese translations of the yokai are still being worked on, so please be a bit more patient if you’re waiting for them! A couple of the posts got to be so long-winded that translating them is proving much more difficult!

Matted, fine art prints of each of these images are available from my Etsy page, and some of the originals are still available. If you’re interested in one of the originals, please send me an email using the contact form.

I will continue to paint more yokai throughout the year, though not on a daily basis, so remember to keep checking back here, or you can subscribe to my site via RSS, Facebook, or Google Friend Connect.

We’ve made it! The final A-Yokai-A-Day painting for October 2010! For Halloween I wanted to present something special. Today I bring you the story of Japan’s scariest and most famous ghost of all time! Tokaido Yotsuya Kaidan, the Japanese name of this story, is by far the most popular, most well known, and most terrifying of Japan’s ghost stories. It is a tale of love, betrayal, murder, and revenge. Despite its age, Yotsuya Kaidan makes even today’s ghost stories seem a timid. The ghost story was created by combining and adding some fiction to two contemporary real-life murder stories and adapting them into a single kabuki show. (The first involved two servants who had murdered their respective masters; they were caught and executed on the same day. The second murder was from a samurai who discovered his concubine was having an affair with a servant; the samurai had the faithless concubine and servant nailed to a wooden board and thrown into the Kanda River.) The show became an instant success and went down in history as Japan’s most popular play ever. Since then it has been reproduced into every form of media imaginable, including over 30 movies. Not only that, the influence of the story on Japan’s culture was so strong that every Japanese ghost story since has borrowed from the powerful imagery and mythology in this story, and you can see its direct influence in today’s well-known ghost stories like Ju-On/The Grudge and Ringu/The Ring and their many spin-offs. Even Chinese, American, and other countries’ ghost stories are now taking their imagery from Yotsuya Kaidan (indirectly via the Japanese hit movies which were inspired by it).

Oiwa (The Ghost Story of Yotsuya)

A long time ago in the area of Tokyo known as Yotsuya there was a masterless ronin samurai named Iyemon. He wished to marry a beautiful woman named Oiwa, but her father, Samon, had heard of Iyemon’s past misdeeds and refused to allow him to marry his daughter. Iyemon’s servant Naosuke also wished to marry Oiwa’s sister Osode, who was unfortunately already married to a man named Yomoshichi. So Iyemon and Naosuke conspired to murder Oiwa’s father and his servants, and Osode’s husband. In order to win Oiwa’s and Osode’s marriages, they claimed that a local bandit had done the killings and promised that they would avenge their deaths. The women agree to marry them.

Time passes, and Oiwa bears Iyemon a son. But she grows sickly and weak after giving birth and never completely recovers. Iyemon is forced into lower work in order to support his family, and he grows to strongly resent his invalid wife. Soon, Iyemon falls in love with another woman, Oume, who is the granddaughter of a rich doctor. Iyemon schemes to murder his wife with Oume, and Oume recieves some poison from her grandfather, and gives it to Iyemon who in turn delivers it to Oiwa, telling her that it will make her stronger. Oiwa takes the medicine and grows weaker and weaker, but it does not kill her. Rather, it disfigures her face, causing her eye to sag her skin to scar over and bleed, and her hair to fall out in bloody clumps.

Meanwhile, Naosuke and Osode are married, but despite his numerous advances, she keeps refusing his attempts to consummate the marriage.

Iyemon, grown disgusted by Oiwa’s mangled face, then bribes a local man named Takuetsu to rape Oiwa so that Iyemon will have grounds to divorce her. Takuetsu attempts to do so, but is unable due to the way she looks. Instead, he shows Oiwa her own reflection in a mirror, and Oiwa grows furious. She rushes to kill Takuetsu with a sword, and he tries to block her. Oiwa trips and cuts her own throat open with the sword. Bleeding to death, she kills her infant son so that he will not be raised by Iyemon, and she curses her husband’s name with her dying breath. One of Iyemon’s servants, Kohei, becomes aware of the murder. To silence Kohei, Iyemon murders him, and nails the bodies of Oiwa and Kohei to a board, and drops them into a river. He claims the two were having an affair, and he is released from his marriage.

Iyemon and Oume arrange to be married. On their wedding night, Iyemon sees a vision of Oiwa’s ghost. He slashes at her, cutting off her head, but then the vision clears and he realizes he has just murdered his new wife Oume. Terrified, he rushes to his new father-in-law’s house, where he sees a vision of Kohei. He attacks his ghost as well, and ends up murdering his father-in-law too.

Iyemon then works to purge his now-dead second wife’s family, throwing his mother-in-law into a canal, and drowning their servants. His friend Naosuke continues to pressure Osode to consummate the marriage, but she oddly continues to refuse. Around that time, Yomoshichi returns, having not actually been killed, and accuses Osode of adultery. She is shamed, and resigns to an honorable redemption in death. She begs her two husbands to kill her, and they gladly oblige. Her final act, though, is to leave a note to her husband Naosuke informing him that she was actually his own younger sister. Shamed, Naosuke commits suicide as well — but not before Yomoshichi acquires damning evidence against Iyemon from him.

Meanwhile, Iyemon flees, constantly pursued by the ghosts of the people he has killed. Oiwa’s ruined face follows him everywhere, even appearing (famously) in a paper lantern. He flees to the mountains, but when he goes fishing, instead of fish, he pulls out the board with Oiwa’s and Kohei’s bodies nailed to it. He flees to a cabin, where the vines from the trees and the smoke from the fire transform into Oiwa’s hair and try to ensnare him.

Finally, Iyemon flees his cabin, having lost his mind and descended into madness as his nightmares become his reality. He runs into Yomoshichi, who slays Iyemon out of both pity and vengeance.

Her story doesn’t end there, though. She continues to haunt even today. From my post on onryo last year you may remember that Japanese ghosts, unlike Western ghosts, don’t go away after they are put to rest. There is generally no end to their haunting. And Oiwa, being the most horrible ghost in Japan is certainly no exception.

Oiwa’s body is buried at a temple (Myogo-ji) in Sugamo, Tokyo, and the date of her death is listed as February 22, 1636. There have been numerous reports of accidents, injuries, and even deaths surrounding productions of the play Tokaido Yotsuya Kaidan, and even during TV and movie productions of the story. As a result, there is said to be a famous curse that touches anything and everything related to this story (like the MacBeth curse, only worse). Nowadays, it is customary before starting any movie or TV show that even talks about Oiwa’s story for the principal actors and the director to make a pilgrimage to Oiwa’s grave and ask her permission to perform and for her blessing for their production. Imagine if  you were supposed to play the role of Oiwa!! (Incidentally, I did not go to Tokyo prior to writing this, so if anything happens to me in the coming days…)

Oiwa

There you have it, the number one ghost story in Japan! I hope it makes your Halloween a special one!

Okiku is the final yokai in this year’s A-Yokai-A-Day series. But that doesn’t mean I am done painting yokai! I will continue to paint and post yokai throughout this next year. I am now working on an illustrated book of yokai which will include a number of yokai from my A-Yokai-A-Day projects, as well as additional ones I have not yet posted. So stay tuned for more information on that! Remember, you can subscribe to my site via RSS feed, Facebook, Google Friend Connect, or by following @matthewmeyerart on Twitter to stay on top of all of my artwork and blog posts.

Finally, starting tomorrow, the remaining yokai from this series will become available on my Etsy store. You can help support the project as well as own a very special piece of Japan in your own home by visiting osarusan.etsy.com.

Have a Happy Halloween, and thanks so much for clicking back here every day this month!

I’ve been having a great time watching the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear live while painting tonight’s ghost. I wish I could be there in person!

Okiku (The Dish Mansion at Bancho)

Today’s character comes from another very very famous kaidan ghost story called Bancho Sarayashiki, or “The Dish Mansion at Bancho.” Her name is Okiku, and she is one of the most famous ghosts in Japanese folklore. Her story has been adapted into puppet theater, kabuki, movies, ukiyo-e and every other imaginable art form. Her story takes place in the area of Bancho, in present-day Hyogo prefecture, but it has been adapted to other locations, and tweaked, and changed, so there are a number of different versions. The one I will tell you now is the more folkloric and traditional one.

A long time ago in the town of Bancho there was a beautiful woman named Okiku. Her master was a samurai named Aoyama, and he fell deeply in love with her. Every day her would ask her to be his mistress, but she always refused his advances, preferring the life of a servant girl to the life of a concubine.

Eventually, Aoyama makes his final advance on Okiku, but again she refuses, so Aoyama decided to trick her. He hid one of his family’s best dishes, which — as a servant — Okiku was supposed to be in charge of. When Okiku was counting the dishes later, she noticed that there were only nine instead of ten. She counted and counted again, but each time only came up nine. Okiku panicked, as losing one of these valuable objects would mean — quite literally — her life. She fell into despair.

She went to her master in tears to confess that she lost one of the dishes. All part of his plan of course, Aoyama told her that he would be gracious enough to overlook the problem if she finally agreed to be his lover. Okiku refused, and Aoyama grew enraged. He threw her down a well, and she died.

After her death, it is said that Okiku became an onryo — a vengeful Japanese ghost. She tormented her former master by counting and counting from one to nine and then shrieking a horrible scream. Aoyama was finally able to exorcise her ghost by having another servant wait until she reached number nine and then suddenly shout, “TEN!” After that, it is said that Okiku stopped haunting him.

The story doesn’t end there, because Japanese ghosts rarely find peace! Where she went next is unknown, but there are tales of Okiku all over Japan. It is said that she appears crawling out of a well and counts, ever searching for her missing tenth plate. Anyone who hears her count all the way up to nine will die. If you manage to escape and only hear up to eight, you may end up just with a debilitating disease. Either way, if you happen to hear a mysterious voice counting somewhere nearby, I suggest you get the hell out of there!

Okiku

Okiku prints will be available on my Etsy store in just a couple of days! So check back soon!

Arararrghhgh I just spent an hour writing up a nice long and full of detail post about today’s yokai, with three separate stories to go along with it, and right when I saved it, $#@%ing WordPress crashed and took all the work with it. It looks like I’ll have to work through sunrise now…

So anyway… as I was saying… Today’s yokai is famous all over Japan, not just among yokai or ghost enthusiasts. Everyone has heard a story of an onibaba, as a fairy tale or a bedtime story or what-have-you. They go by different terms often, whether onibaba, or yamamba, or yama-uba (as I painted for last year’s yokai project), or even a name, like The Goblin of Adachi, or Kurozuka.

Onibaba

There are a number of very famous onibaba stories, but perhaps the most famous one tells the story of the demon of Adachigahara. In this story, a wealthy couple has a child who, for the entire 5 years of her life, has never spoken a single word. The couple consults a doctor, who tells them that the only way to cure their daughter is by feeding her the fresh liver of an unborn fetus (sure, why not?).

They call their daughter’s nanny and put the task of retrieving the liver onto her shoulders. Rightfully expecting that it will take some time to find a willing baby liver donor, the nanny gives her own daughter a protection charm, kisses her goodbye, and leaves on her long journey.

The nanny travels for days, months, and even years without finding anyone willing to give up their baby. Eventually, her travels take her to the moors of Adachigahara, in present-day Fukushima. Here she finds a cave and decides to hole up and wait for a pregnant woman to pass by on the road. It takes many more years, but eventually a lone pregnant woman does pass, and the nanny leaps out of the cave and slays her, taking the fresh liver from her womb. It is only after the deed is done that the nanny notices the young woman is wearing the very same protection charm that she had given her daughter so many years ago!

The knowledge of what she had done weighed so heavy on her that the nanny went insane and transformed into a yokai. And she remained there, on the moors of Adachigahara, for many many years, catching and eating travelers who would pass by. She is even so famous that a Noh play, called Kurozuka, was made after her story.

My wife’s favorite onibaba story, and the last one I will write tonight because my eyes are beginning to close as I write, tells of a young priest living at a temple way out in the mountains. One fall day he begs the temple master to let him go chestnut gathering in the woods. The master at first refuses, stating that the woods are too dangerous and that a horrible yamamba lives there. But the boy says there is no such thing and insists so much that the priest relents and lets him go. But he gives him three magical prayer charms just in case.

The boy spends the whole day gathering chestnuts, going deeper and deeper into the mountains. Before he knows it, night falls, and he is stranded out in the woods. He fumbles for his way back home, and he eventually stumbles onto a cottage, where the kind old woman living there offers to put him up for the night and share his chestnuts with him. The boy is happy, and they dine on the nuts until he can eat no more, after which he goes to sleep.

He awakens from his deep sleep to a strange noise, and looking up at the sliding paper door, the boy sees the old woman sharpening the largest carving knife he has ever seen, as well as human bones scattered all over the place. The woman looks over her shoulder, revealing her demonic face, horns, and tongue, and tells the boy that she will eat him! He begs her at the very least to let him use the toilet first. She agrees, but sensing a trap, she ties a rope around him so that he can not escape.

In the bathroom, the boy quickly unties himself and pulls out his prayer tokens. He wishes on the first one that it will help him get away, and as the old crone calls out asking if the boy is finished yet, the charm answers for him: “Not yet!” The boy is able to slip out the window while the charm continues responding to the hag. Finally, she grows impatient and opens the door anyway, and she is enraged to see that she has been duped!

Onibaba rages after the boy, catching up on him with demonic speed. The boy uses his second charm to summon a great river, which blocks onibaba from catching him, and he escapes again. However, onibaba opens her great big mouth and soon she drinks every last drop of water in the river, and continues her chase.

When she catches up to him again, the boy uses his final charm to call an ocean of fire to engulf the witch. While it slows her down a bit, onibaba is able to spit up the entire river she just drank and douse the flames, and she continues her chase, rapidly closing in.

The boy finally makes it to the temple, with the yamamba hot on his heels, and he bursts in and begs the priest to help him. The priest, in the middle of his dinner of sticky mochi balls, hides the boy in one of his large pots. Onibaba bursts into the temple and demands that the priest hand over the boy, or she will eat them both. The priest says there is no boy here, but if onibaba can defeat him in a magic contest, he will let her eat him instead. Seeing that there is no way a mortal can defeat a yokai in a magic contest, the old witch agrees.

The priest asks her how big she can grow, and she instantly grows as tall as a mountain, laughing down at the puny little old man. He feigns being impressed, and then asks her if she can shrink down to the size of a bean. Onibaba complies again, instantly becoming a tiny little speck. The man then picks up a mochi ball and pops the bean-sized onibaba into it, and he eats the bean-mochi in one bite!

The end, and definitely now it is bed time for me!

Onibaba

There are only 2 days left until Halloween, and that means only 2 yokai left in this year’s A-Yokai-A-Day project! Check back again tomorrow for another awesome ghost story!

And don’t forget to stop by my Etsy store on your way out. You’ll help support my projects like this one, and you can get a beautiful signed, matted print that is guaranteed to give you nightmares!

During the Edo period, a ghost story telling tradition called hyakumonogatari kaidankai, or “a gathering of one hundred supernatural tales,” was a popular aristocratic game. In this game, 100 candles or lanterns would be lit, and each participating member would tell one ghost story, or kaidan, after which they would snuff a candle out. A number of the ghost stories survived to become famous legends, many of them being adapted into paintings, illustrated books, kabuki plays, and of course eventually movies. Today’s ghost comes from one of these stories.

Otsuyu (The Tale of the Peony Lantern)

One of Japan’s most famous ghost stories is called Kaidan Botan Doro, or the Tale of the Peony Lantern. It’s a tale of, well… necrophilia, to be quite honest. The story was adapted in Japanese folklore from a Chinese legend during the 17th century. There are two main versions of this story, the first being the original adapted version, and the second one being a kabuki play adapted from the first adaption. The kabuki version changes the main characters a bit and rounds out the story to include a bit more romance, and is probably the better known of the two versions.

In this story, a young man named Saburo falls in love with a beautiful woman named Otsuyu. They see each other in secret for some time, and eventually decide to get married. Before they can, however, Saburo falls very ill and cannot see Otsuyu for some time. When he finally recovers, he hears news that his beloved Otsuyu has died.

During the Obon festival, Saburo prays for Otsuyu’s spirit and, while doing so, he is approached by two women who look just like Otsuyu and her maid. It is revealed that Otsuyu’s aunt spread the rumor that Otsuyu had died — and she had also told Otsuyu that Saburo had died.

Reunited, the lovers renew their relationship, and once again begin to see each other in secret. Every night, Otsuyu, accompanied by her maid carrying a peony lantern, would steal away to Saburo’s house and spend the night there.

One night, however, a servant passes by the room and, alerted by the *ahem* commotion, he peeks in to see what is going on. He is horrified to see his master Saburo making passionate love to a decayed corpse, while another corpse lies rotting in the corner of the room, carrying a peony lantern.

The servent rushes away to fetch a priest, and the next day the priest shows Saburo the graves of Otsuyu and her maid, and wards Saburo’s house against the undead with paper prayer scrolls (like bug spray but for the undead — very handy). He also prays at Saburo’s house every night to keep the evil pair away.

This works for some time, and every night, the two ghosts come to Saburo’s house and beg to be let in. The prayer strips keep them at bay, but gradually it begins to tug at poor Saburo’s heart strings, as he cannot bear to see and hear his beloved in such sadness. Saburo’s health again begins to deteriorate, and finally his servants, fearing their master will die of a broken heart, remove the magic wards from the house. Otsuyu and her maid once again enter, and Saburo and Otsuyu sleep together one more time. In the morning, the servants discover Saburo’s dead body in his bed, entwined around a fetid corpse, with another skeleton slumped over in the corner carrying a peony lantern. But on Saburo’s face is a look of pure bliss.

I love this story, but I have to admit that I think the ending for the non-kabuki version is a little more interesting. In this version, the main character (a man named Ogiwara, not Saburo) eventually relents to Otsuyu’s pleading night after night and comes out to meet with her. The next morning, Ogiwara is nowhere to be found. Eventually, the search for Ogiwara brings his servants to a nearby temple, where Otsuyu’s grave is located. In Otsuyu’s grave they find their master’s corpse embracing the rotten skeleton of a woman…

For today’s painting I decided to go with Otsuyu and her maid, rather than painting a man having sex with a corpse. There aren’t any famous paintings of that, so while it would be an interesting first, I think I would need more than a single day to do a painting that grotesque. Lots of flecks of skin and fluids to paint and whatnot… Maybe someday when I do a book of illustrated ghost stories.

Otsuyu, from the Tale of the Peony Lantern

Hoping to have this tale of necrophilia immortalized in a frameable, wall-friendly version? Have no fear, fine art prints of Otsuyu will be available shortly on my Etsy store! In the meantime, go ahead and browse the other yokai prints that are ready to purchase right now. The rest will be available in the beginning of November. | 江戸時代、上流階級の人々の間では百物語会談会が流行っていました。百本の蝋燭か行燈を灯し、参加者は一人ずつ怪談話を披露して話が一つ終わるごとに灯を消してゆくというものです。多くの怪談話は有名な伝説になり、またそのような伝説は絵師によって描かれると共に書物や歌舞伎で紹介され、今日では映画にまでなっています。今回紹介するお話もそのような有名な伝説の一つです。

Otsuyu (The Tale of the Peony Lantern)

日本に伝わる有名な怪談話のひとつに、牡丹灯篭があります。これは17世紀ごろの中国の言い伝えが日本に伝わり姿を変えたもので、日本では大凡2通りのお話があります。一つは原作の牡丹灯記で、もう一つが歌舞伎や落語の形で伝わっている怪談牡丹灯籠です。歌舞伎や落語のものは主人公やストーリーを少しアレンジしてよりロマンスのあるものになっているようで、日本ではこちらの方がよく知られているようです。

では、怪談牡丹灯籠を紹介しましょう（これにも多くの話があり、それぞれに異なる点がありますが主となるストーリーは似ている所も多いです。今回はそのうちの一つをとりあげてご紹介したいと思います）。昔々、新三郎という男は美しい娘お露と恋に落ちました。彼らは共に添い遂げたいと考えていましたが、願い叶わずお露は新三郎に恋い焦がれて死んでしまい、その後下女のお米も後を追って死んでしまいました。

盆の十三夜、お露を偲んでいる新三郎のもとに牡丹灯籠を下げた二人の女が近づいてくる。よくよく顔を見るとそれはなんと死んだはずのお露とお米だったのです。死んだとばかり思っていたお露との再開に新三郎はたいそう喜びました。

それからというものお露はお米と共に牡丹灯籠を下げ、駒下駄の音を鳴らしながら毎晩新三郎のもとを訪れ、二人は逢瀬を楽しむようになっていったのです。

しかしある夜、なにやら不審に思った下男の半蔵がその現場を覗き見てしまいます。そしてそれを見た半蔵は驚きおののきました。なんと新三郎は骸骨と抱き合っているではないですか。お露がこの世のものではないと知った新三郎の家には魔除けの札がはられ、海音如来の金無垢のご尊像をお守りとして置かれました。するとお露とお米は新三郎の家に近寄る事ができなくなってしまったのです。

その後のお話は、半蔵が悲しむ主人を見かねて一夜だけお札を剥がしてお露と会わせてやったという話や、半蔵が金と引き替えに主人を裏切って札とご尊像を盗んでしまうであるとか色々とあります。「牡丹灯記」の方も併せて読んでみるととても興味深いお話ですよ。

私はこの牡丹灯籠の話がとても好きです。半蔵が裏切る方の話はもっと人間の欲とか嫉妬、愛情などが詰まっていて興味深いものです。

今日の妖怪は、骸骨と抱き合った男の絵ではなく私はお露とお米を描きました。グロテスクな絵を描くには１日ではちょっと難しいのでこちらにしましたが、また機会があれば描いてみたいと思います。

Otsuyu, from the Tale of the Peony Lantern

For the last 5 paintings I wanted to do a few of the named, more famous ghosts from Japan, like the one I did of Gagoze a few days back. Something about these individual monster legends is so compelling; that they, as single characters, have kept par with the legions of bizarre and fantastic yokai that have filled Japan’s folklore over the centuries. Like the Jersey Devil or Bigfoot, these spirits have a lot more character and can feel a lot more personal than your ordinary spook.

Hanako-san

Who among us hasn’t been scared of using a toilet at one point or another? When I was a kid, I was afraid that there was a lobster in our toilet that would sneak up and pinch my bottom when I couldn’t see. And of course the public restrooms on I-95… who wouldn’t be scared of those! What I remember most being scared of, though, was the ghost that lived in the bathroom mirror that we used to try to summon at sleepover parties. Sometimes it was the Candyman, sometimes it was Bloody Mary, but there was a morbid horror about that fact that you were actually inviting something to come into your home and destroy you… and that was probably what was so fun about it.

Hanako, or Toire no Hanako (“Hanako of the Toilet”) as she is known is Japan, is a somewhat modern ghost. She doesn’t have a distinct origin, but reports of her go back to the 1950’s, and can be found in every school in every prefecture across Japan. She is the “Bloody Mary” of Japanese elementary schools. The legend of Hanako tells of a ghost of a young girl who haunts a bathroom. Some legends say she was an abused child who was chased down and finally caught by her angry parent in the school’s bathroom. Some modern tales claim she is a student who committed suicide in the girl’s bathroom. Others say she was the victim of a school which was burnt down during one of the WW2 bombing raids — she was playing hide and seek and hid out in the bathroom when the bombs struck. In most stories, though, it is agreed that she died (and thus now resides) in the 3rd stall of the 3rd floor bathroom. And she waits there, ready to be summoned by daring or curious children.

It is said that she can be summoned by knocking on her stall three times and ask, “Hanako-san, are you there?” If she is there, she will reply, “Yes I am,” in a quiet, little girl’s voice. The stall door will open up a bit, and when the student looks in to investigate, the ghost of little Hanako, wearing a red skirt and with her hair done up in an old-style bun, will pull her into the toilet and down to Hell.

In the version my wife grew up with in elementary school, a girl who goes to the bathroom by herself will sometimes hear a voice asking her if she wants to be friends. If the poor kid is smart and tries to save her life by saying yes, Hanako’s ghost will come up beneath her and drag her down through the toilet to Hell. If the kid says no, Hanako will simply cut her to pieces. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

Hanako is not the only school bathroom ghost in Japan, nor even the scariest. In fact, there are some stories where Hanako will actually protect children from other bathroom-based ghosts! And, unlike some other ghosts, Hanako can be easily avoided if you just stay away from her hiding place.

Of course, any kid who is like me will probably just seek her out anyway. And maybe they’ll grow up to be obsessed with ghosts and monsters too…

Toire no Hanako

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妖怪シリーズ：トイレの花子さん

残りの五日間は、以前紹介した「元興寺」のように名前のある有名なゴーストを紹介したいと思います。このような一つの独立している幽霊にまつわる話はとても面白いです。これらの単独で存在しているものは他の妖怪達と同様に色々な話があり、何世紀もの間語り継がれているのです。ジャージーデビルやビッグフットとも似ており、それぞれにキャラクターがあって人間味のあるものが多いです。

Hanako-san

誰しもこれまでに一度は便所が怖いと思った経験があるのではないでしょうか？子供の時、私はトイレにはロブスターがいるのではないかと思っていて、用を足している間に這い上がってきてお尻をはさまれるのではないかと怖がっていた事がありました。トイレと言えば、ご存じのⅠ-95の公衆トイレ（アメリカの国道沿いにある汚いトイレ）はもちろん…怖がらない人はいないでしょう！

今までで一番怖い思いをしたのは、トイレの鏡にとり憑いているといわれる幽霊を呼び出した事です。私達はよくスリープオーバーパーティーでこの幽霊を鏡から呼び出そうと試していました。呼び出そうとしたのはキャンディーマンだったり、ブラッディーマリーだったりで、幽霊を呼ぶのは楽しかったけれども本当に呼び出してしまうと命を落としてしまうので恐怖を感じました。。。しかしその恐怖心がまた楽しいのでしょうね。

トイレの花子さんとして知られるその少女は比較的新しい幽霊で、特別な起源は分かっていません。彼女の始めの頃の伝説は1950年代に遡り、そして日本中あちこちの学校で彼女は語り継がれているのです。差し詰め花子さんは日本の“Bloody Mary”なのでしょう。

花子さんは便所に憑いている小さな女の子の幽霊です。色々な伝説では、彼女は虐待されていた子供で、逃げ込んだ学校のトイレでその親に見つかってしまったというものや、最近の話では彼女は学校の女子トイレで自殺をした女の子であったという話もあります。また他には第二次世界大戦の時、爆撃の標的とされた学校でかくれんぼをしていた女児がトイレに隠れていた所、爆撃され死んでしまったというものもあります。どの話にも、３という数字が付いてまわっていて３階のトイレであったり３番目の個室であったりするのです。そして彼女はそこで、彼女を呼び出す子供を待っているそうです…。

言い伝えによると、彼女を呼び出す方法として個室を一つずつノックしてこう尋ねるのだそうです「花子さんいますか？」。もし彼女がそこにいれば、彼女は返事を返します。そしてドアが少し開き、子供が中を覗き見ると、赤いスカートをはいたおかっぱ頭の女の子がその子供を個室に引き入れ、トイレの中に連れ去ってしまうのだと言います。

妻の小学校に伝わっていた話を紹介しましょう。女の子が一人で学校のトイレに行った時、時々声が聞こえるそうです。「友達になってくれる？」と。花子さんを救ってあげたいと思った子供がyesと言ってしまうと、花子さんは現れてその子供を便所の中へ引きづり込んでしまうのだというものです。しかしnoと言った場合、花子さんはその子供を切り刻んでしまうのだといいます。どちらにせよ悪い結果が待っているという事ですね…。

他の説によると、花子さんは学校のトイレの幽霊だけではないといいます。また、それほど恐ろしいわけでもないのです。この説では、実は花子さんは子供達を他のトイレの妖怪から守ってくれている存在であるとされています。そして他の幽霊とは異なり花子さんは彼女の潜む個室を出ればもう憑かれる事ものないのだといいます。

もちろん、私の子供時代のように多くの子供は彼女を探しにトイレを覗きこむ事でしょう。そしてとり憑かれたまま大人になってゆくのかもしれません…。

Toire no Hanako

Today is a cold, dark and rainy, absolutely beautiful October day. Perfect for ghost stories by candlelight! And perfect for today’s yokai!

Ame-onna

Literally “rain woman,” ame-onna started out as a rainmaker priestess in ancient China. People prayed to her, and she was highly respected. When her legend was brought to Japan, the story changed quite a bit and she became a yokai.

It is said that when a newborn child disappears a rainy day, an ame-onna is responsible. They are ugly hags who lurk in the rain, licking their own bodies, and carrying a big black sack which they use to capture children — especially children who cry on a rainy night!

In Japan there are a number of variations of ame-onna, including a “rain wetnurse” and a “rain spirit” which generally do good things. There is also a variant ame-onna who reflects her Chinese origins and saves people by calling rain during a dry period. The majority of Japanese ame-onna seem to be on the sinister side, however.

Ame-onna

For any new visitors to this project: beautiful, matted fine-art prints of this yokai series are available on my Etsy store! About half of the yokai are up now, and the remainder will be posted after Halloween. Thanks for looking! | 今日は雨が降っていて暗く寒い日です。本当に綺麗な10月の空です。蝋燭に火をともして幽霊話をするのにもってこいの日です！そして今日紹介する妖怪にうってつけの日です！

Ame-onna

この妖怪の起源は中国の巫山の神女にまつわる伝説にあります。神女ですから人々から崇められる存在ですが、日本に伝わる過程で話は変化して妖怪となりました。

ある言い伝えによると、雨の日には生まれたばかりの赤子が消えるのだといわれ、そして薄汚い格好をした老婆が子供を入れるための黒い大きな袋を提げて現れるのだとされています。特に雨の日に泣いている子供を狙うのです…。

日本には色んな種類の雨女が存在しています。例えば、乾いた大地に雨の恵みをもたらすもので、良い事もあるのですが現在日本で使われている“雨女”はこれとは逆に悪い意味でつかわれている事が多いようです。

Ame-onna