Attention Hong Kong readers! I will be presenting about yokai in both English and Japanese (with Cantonese simultaneous intepretation) at the Japan Media Arts Festival in Hong Kong on December 8, 2012. It's being held at Taikoo Plaza. For more details, check out the official website. See you in Hong Kong!
News flash! I'm going to be appearing on NHK regularly this summer as a yokai commentator! I've joined the ranks of the show Topics Eikaiwa, an educational series for students of English as a second language.
Every episode of Topics Eikaiwa contains an English-dubbed episode of the anime series Little Charo. This season is set in Tohoku, where Charo runs into all sorts of yokai, like Tengu, Kappa, Tanuki, and more. (You can see weekly previews of the Japanese version here.)
After every English episode comes my own little segment, called "Wonder Tohoku," where I describe the yokai and the associated folklore in English. I keep things short and simple because the targets are intermediate-level English students. If you live in Japan, starting on July 4, you can see Topics Eikawa every Wednesday at 6:00am and 10:00pm, all summer long. So sit tight... and don't let the yokai bite!
「英語で楽しむ!リトル・チャロ〜東北編〜」は２０１２年７月４日の午後にスタートします！NHKのEテレでは毎週水曜日の午後10:00〜午後10:20です。全部で１２話があり、毎回の妖怪コーナー「Wonder Tohoku」に登場するのでよろしくお願いします！
Actually, he's against the proposed tunnel to be put through Mt. Takao, but he's also sharing the stage during the 3/11 nuclear power protest in Inokashira Park.
Small wonder that yokai would be against nuclear power. Shigeru Mizuki often ties their decline to the spread of electrical lighting in Japan, and there were widespread rumors of tanuki and kitsune attempting to derail trains when the first lines were put down in the 19th century. As the protester's sign above says, "the Tengu won't forgive anyone who destroys the environment."
From toad wrestling to Teenage Mutant Ninja Frogs? It might sound like a leap of logic, but it's absolutely true: today's ninja susperstars have some decidedly slimy origins.
Hiroko and I were conducting research in the Sackler Gallery archives for an upcoming project when we stumbled across a cache of 18th century frog and toad related prints.
They weren't the first we'd ever seen, but they reminded us of the love-hate relationship Japan has enjoyed with the creatures over the ages. Sure, they're warty and bumpy and hang out in slimy dark places, but there's something about those beady little eyes that demands a certain amount of affection.
The Japanese actually have a word for this type of cognitive dissonance: it's called kimo-kawaii: cute and gross, all at the same time. It's something Japanese designers have a real knack for; you can see it in so many mascots and characters today that it can be easy to mistake for a recent trend. It isn't.
Long before Japanese had a word for it, frogs and toads were the ORIGINAL "kimo-kawaii."
In spite of being totally common sorts of animals (you can even find them in the midst of the Tokyo metropolis today, if you know where to look), they're often portrayed in decidedly uncommon circumstances: marching alongside yokai, acting as familiars to ninja sorcerers, even cutting loose and staging impromptu wrestling matches when pesky humans aren't lurking about.
Now here's where things get interesting.
The following prints show Tenjiku Tokubei (1612- 1692), a real-life adventurer who traveled extensively in Southeast Asia at a time when very few Japanese were allowed to leave their country.
His name translates into "Tokubei of India" -- I guess you could call him a sort of Japanese "Lawrence of Arabia."
After his death, his legend continued to grow. In 1804, Tokubei became the subject of a kabuki play called Tenjiku Tokubei Kokubanashi. It portrayed the adventurer as a wizard-like master of magic gleaned from the Asian continent.
His secret superpower involved casting spells on the large stones used to make pickled vegetables, transforming them into... giant toads. Which would then attack his enemies. (Yeah, toads. C'mon. When you think about it, is this really that much stranger than the powers the X-Men and other modern superheroes are supposed to possess?)
In an amusing twist, the kabuki play's producer promoted his show by fueling rumors that the actors used "Christian magic" to effect their super-quick dress changes during the show. Perhaps one could say frogliness is next to Godliness?
Toyohara Kunichika, 1883.
Utagawa Toyokuni, 1809.
Utagawa Kuniyoshi
As the sheer number of pieces of art produced for it attest, the play was a huge hit -- the contemporary equivalent of a Hollywood blockbuster.
They influenced a writer by the name of Kanwatei Onitake, who borrowed (some might say "swiped") Tokubei's signature attack and fused it with tales of a legendary Chinese burglar to create Jiraiya, who is widely considered to be the very first ninja character in Japanese pop culture.
Jiraiya (who not coincidentally gets a big profile in Ninja Attack!) first appeared in an 1806 illustrated book that could be called the ancestor of the graphic novel. He's a thief with a heart of gold and the ability to conjure up giant phantom frogs. Where Tokubei's powers were said to come from foreign lands, Jiraiya's were good old-fashioned Japanese ninjutsu.
The tweak to the story seems to have hit home, because Jiraiya is far more well known than his predecessor today. In fact, he's a positive superstar among a certain set. He lives on as one of the main characters in the Naruto anime series.
Kanwatei Onitake's Jiraiya
Update 02/2012! You can see the 1921 silent film "Jiraiya," considered the ancestor of both ninja cinema and tokusatsu (special-effects) films in Japan, here on YouTube! The frog-versus-samurai battle at 12 minutes in is a must-see.
You heard it here first: there are some serious mutations going on down in Koenji.
For no apparent reason other than sheer awesomeness, a kappa and tengu appeared in the midst of Koenji Fest 2011, which continues through this weekend in (wait for it) the Koenji neighborhood of Tokyo.
Where else but Tokyo can you stumble across a kappa getting into a fistfight with a super-kawaii mascot? Nowhere. And fortunately for you, I caught it on camera. (Click the "YouTube" logo at bottom right to display them at full size).
Calling all monster hunters: I penned this Freaky Field Guide to Tokyo's Top 10 Mythical Beasts, which features lavish color illustrations by the talented Chip Boles.
Rather than yokai, it focuses on legendary animals -- the sorts of things you're likely to see adorning shrines and temples, or described in the pages of ancient scholarly texts. Ever wonder what that cavalcade of creatures sculpted around the roof of your local Buddhist temple is all about? Now's your chance to find out.
From favorites like the Beckoning Cat and the Kirin to more obscure specimens like Gama Sennin's three-legged toad, it's a complete guide for creature watching in the greater Tokyo metropolitan area. (For reals! There are even instructions for where to find them.)
Mount Takao, an hour west of Tokyo by train, is one of the city's favorite getaways. It also happens to be the stomping grounds of a yokai known as the Tengu -- mountain goblins from folklore. Don't believe me? Look at how many we spotted up there this weekend!
Tengu come in two distinct "species" -- the Karasu-, or Raven-Tengu, and the Hanadaka-, or Longnose Tengu. Check the faces and you'll see what I mean.
