Today’s yokai is a pretty cool one. It came to Japan from Indian mythology, which is probably quickly obvious by looking at it.

Religion in Japan is a very interesting thing. Ask a Japanese person what religion they follow, and they will most likely tell you they are some form of Buddhism. Ask a non-Japanese person what religion is followed in Japan, and they will tell you Shinto. In fact, most Japanese don’t really use the word “Shinto” although it is a part of their everyday lives. It’s an odd thing that Westerners have a set definition of Japanese religion that Japanese people don’t really follow…

The reason for this is that Buddhism formed a syncretic religion by merging with local traditions when it came to Japan. This is why you often see shrines and temples occupying the same land, and why Japanese kami are often interpreted as incarnations of Buddhas. Shinto doesn’t really have much in the way of doctrine, and so there hasn’t been much conflict between the two religions when compared with other parts of the world (that’s not to say that there has never been any… just that there has been less).

Unlike some imports from other cultures, ashura came over with very few changes from their Indian counterparts, which is why they still resemble the asura of Vedic mythology. Something that I find totally fascinating, however: historians and linguists who study the proto-Indo-European culture (the theoretical precursor to the languages and religions of most of the land between Europe and India) have suggested a link between the asura of Indian tradition, Ahura Mazda of Zoroastrianism, and the aesir of Norse mythology. Besides the obvious linguistic similarities, there are a lot of similarities behind the myths associated with these beings, including a war between the gods and demons. In Norse mythology, the aesirare the gods we know as Odin, Thor, and so on. Ahura Mazda is the principle god of Zoroastrianism, and asura are a kind of demon in Vedic mythology. In other words, it is possible that the same mythical character eventually evolved into all three of these beings!

When you take that a little bit further, remember that Odin, and aesir, is often said to be the origin of Santa Claus. So, if we really stretch the imagination, could we say that Santa Claus is actually an ashura? Of course, that’s quite silly, but the fact is that you can trace a direct line between the two characters’ histories. As different as European and Japanese traditions are, it’s comforting to know that, when you strip back the layers of time, many of the things that we think make us unique, actually share a common link.

Incidentally, if you’re interested in other cross-cultural connections between Japanese myths and Western myths, I wrote about one much earlier on my blog.

Click below to read about ashura on yokai.com!

I mentioned at the beginning of the month how I like to start out with the cuter/tamer yokai and move on to the scarier ones near Halloween. Well, the month is getting into its final third, and today’s yokai is definitely one of the more grotesque and creepy ones! The story of Uriko hime, which is included on the yokai.com page, is downright horrifying! From here on out, the yokai will start to get creepier. 🙂

Amanojaku are a fun yokai because they are so downright nasty. I mean, there are so many kinds of yokai which are nasty to a point, but the amanojaku is so evil and so unpleasant that they rival tengu and oni for all-time villains of Japanese lore. They kind of remind me of gremlins or goblins, in that they are nasty, wicked, and yet in a way somewhat weak and pathetic.

It’s not terribly rare to see Buddhist statues in Japan of a great god stamping on demons, using them as a pedestal. Those are usually representations of Bishamonten—chief of the four heavenly kings and a sort of god of war in Japanese Buddhism. As the amanojaku are symbols of pure evil, he is depicted as crushing and defeating them, in true warrior-king fashion. It’s enough to make you feel a bit sorry for them, as they are rather small and pathetic under his boot… but when you read the stories about how nasty they are, that pathetic facade quickly fades away!

Read on, and let me know what you think in the comments!

You can find amanojaku in The Hour of Meeting Evil Spirits, available now in Kindle and paperback!

Today we are looking at another tengu yokai. This one is a bit different than Sojobo and the other tengu you see on yokai.com for a few reasons: she is a female, she is a god, she has a son. Her nicknames reveal how rare those things are: metengu (woman tengu) and tengu kami (tengu god) refer specifically to her; i.e. there aren’t really other female tengu or tengu gods besides her.

I also think she is interesting because while most tengu are considered to be malicious demons lurking in the forests, she is actually revered as a goddess. While it isn’t terribly uncommon to see shrines dedicated to tengu or small tengu cults (think of Sojobo from a few days ago), Amanozako’s story is special in that she interacts with the other gods in heaven. Her myths are not self-contained stories, but play off of the larger pantheon. She was supposedly born out of a chunk of spit and gall that the temperamental storm god, Susanoo, vomited up. Most tengu don’t have that as a claim to fame!

And the fact that there aren’t other female tengu is notable as well. The long tengu nose is often considered to be a phallic symbol, and that may be a reason why most tengu are depicted as men. But for the tengu god to be a female is interesting! Not only that, but she bore her son without the need of a male partner. Truly a powerful woman!

Read more about her on yokai.com, and pick up a copy of The Hour of Meeting Evil Spirits to always have her on your bookshelf!

There have been a lot of yokai lately dealing with the dragon god of the sea—Ryūjin. Wani, suiko, shinkirō, and ryūtō are all closely related to him. Of course today’s is as well! Why are there so many? Well, remember, Japan is an island nation, and the is incredibly important. The fact that Japan is an island chain is the reason it is so unique, so it is only fitting that there should be a lot of lore about the sea. And of course, by extension, of Ryūjin.

So who is Ryūjin exactly? Well, legends about him go way way back to before recorded history. Ryūjin is merely his title; it ryū means dragon, and jin means god. His actual name is Ōwatatsumi, although in most cases he is simply referred to as Ryūjin. He lives in a palace made of red and white coral, deep under the sea. He possess two magical jewels, known as kanju and manju, which respectively control the ebb and flow of the tides. He is served by jellyfish and sea turtles, as well as other aquatic creatures. As a dragon, he has domain over water. Farmers pray to him for rain, fishermen pray to him for a large haul. He is central to a number of important Japanese industries.

Politics below the sea reflect those above it. There are noble courts, dignitaries, parties, probably even war. Ryūjin has been known to bring human guests into his undersea palace, like in the myth of Urashima Tarō and Toyotami hime.

Today’s yokai, shiranui—”unknown fire”—is a manifestation of the power of the dragon god. They were viewed as a sign that the dragon god was nearby, so on days that shiranui appeared, fishermen came in and catching fish was forbidden, lest the god be disturbed. It is, of course, closely related to yesterday’s ryūtō.

Shiranui is really similar to other sea-based mirages and will-o’-the-wisps from English folklore. It seems that many cultures have fantastic stories about strange lights out at sea or on the land. Scientists usually attribute these stories to bio-luminescent creatures, such as algae or jellyfish or squid, or else to illusions caused by refraction of moonlight over the humid sea air. Whatever the cause, I happen to really like this particular interpretation of mysterious lights.

Click below to read about shiranui on yokai.com!

Today’s yokai is not very famous across Japan, but it is famous locally in Hiroshima, particularly on the island of Itsukushima (also known as Miyajima). Arguably the most famous landmark in Hiroshima (after the atomic bomb dome and peace park), nearly everyone has seen the iconic image of the big torii gate reflected in the shallow waters of the bay.

Ryūtō appears once per year, on New Years day. I painted this image two years ago while viisiting Hiroshima over winter break. I was off by just one day; I happened to be there on New Years Eve, so I just missed the lights by 24 hours. However, even without them the bay is absolutely gorgeous at sunset and at night. I painted the dragon lights out of my own imagination, but the sheer beauty of the scene even with phantom fire was more powerful than any painting can capture.

The lights are supposedly visible from the tiny town in the mountains around the island, and the townspeople gather around to view them. They are a sign that the holy dragon god is happy and healthy and still favors the bay around the island. If you’ve ever seen the amazing beauty of Itsukushima, with its tidal pools and shrine built on top of the water, it is hard to imagine how the dragon god could not be happy.

Click on the picture to read more about ryūtō!

Today’s yokai is a great example for the debate about what exactly is a yokai. I’ve mentioned on my blog and at talks that one of the four main categories of yokai is “phenomena.” While the vast number of yokai are creatures of some sort, there are supernatural things that are not actual creatures which still fall under the yokai umbrella. These are also called kaii, which means strange phenomena. Shinkirō is one of these.

Looking at the picture, you might guess that shinkirō is a magical clam. That’s close, but the term actually refers to the clam’s breath and not the clam itself. Although an argument could be made that the clam—with its enormous size and magical powers—is also a yokai, this specific term refers to a mirage that is blown out from the clam along with its breath.

Just like in other countries’ folklore, mirages at sea promised fantastic things to the sailors who saw them. In the case of Japanese folklore, they granted an image of a great castle at the bottom of the sea, where the dragon gods live. Wani, which was added to yokai.com last month thanks to my Patreon backers, would be an example.

An interesting little tidbit is that in Chinese, these clams are known as shen, and are actually shapeshifting dragons which take the form of clams. So they are even more connected to the dragon gods than they appear from just their breath!

Read more about shinkirō at yokai.com, or in The Hour of Meeting Evil Spirits!

I’ve said before how I love when yokai “interact” with each other—that is, when one yokai legend references another. It shows the ongoing continuity in folklore; folklore is not just created and then archived; it lives and breathes, it changes, and it builds off of itself. Tonight’s yokai is one of those. He is connected to a number of local myths around the place where he supposedly lives, but he is also strongly connected to another yokai which is featured in The Hour of Meeting Evil Spirits: eritategoromo. The little connections and interactions like this add an air of credibility and authenticity to the stories; they feel like they exist in a living, breathing canon rather than as static legends.

Sōjōbō is especially interesting because his legend continues to grow and evolve even in recent memory. In 1949 the temple to which he is strongly connected split away from Tendai Buddhism to form a new esoteric sect. In this branch of Buddhism, a holy trinity is worshiped as a central force, and part of that trinity is Mao-son, a demon king who came to earth from planet Venus 6,500,000 years ago to live at Mount Kurama. According to the priests, Sōjōbō and Mao-son are one and the same… so a tengu from Venus? I suppose it wouldn’t be the strangest story to come out of Kurama Temple, as it is also the place where reiki was invented!

Sōjōbō was selected for today by my Patreon backers. I think they picked a great one, don’t you? If you have a favorite yokai you’d like to see, consider joining my project!

As always, click below to read about Sōjōbō on yokai.com:

Sōjōbō