From water to stone… The solidification of Mizuko Jizō

(This post is by Christina. The photos are from her trip to Japan. Christina, ありがとう!)

Only minutes away from one of Japan's largest tourist attractions, the Tokyo Tower, lies the Zojōji Temple. One of the most striking aspects of this otherwise normal temple is the vast number of small child-like statues placed neatly in rows along the street, visible to any passers-by. These little stone people are not at all unique to this temple, but are found throughout Japan. Known as mizuko Jizō, each of these little guys represents a dead child, more often than not the product of abortion, though may also be representative of a child who has died through miscarriage, stillbirth, or who has died shortly after birth. By dressing it in a little red knitted hat and a bib, giving it a pinwheel and flowers, the mother or family is miniaturizing the child who never was. What is also important is that this child is given a name, sometimes a Buddhist name, and others a name which the purchaser of this Jizō has chosen. This being said, the more one dresses it up like one would a child, the more the statue looks like a child and less like a monk, however the statue is supposed to be both of these entities simultaneously. William Lafleur, in his text entitled “Abortion in Japan”, explains this simultaneous imagery is of utmost importance, calling the Jizō a “stand-in for both the dead infant and the savior figure who supposedly takes care of it in its otherworld journey. The double-take effect—one moment a child and the next a Buddhist saviour in monkish robes—is intentional.” (LaFleur 75)

The term mizuko, written with the characters for ‘water’, ‘水’, and ‘child’, ‘子’, literally means ‘water child’, and there are a couple of speculations as to why this is so. In the womb the fetus is not yet solidified and is thus somewhat watery. This being said, by it being aborted it does not have to travel too far to return to the land of the dead as it has yet to become a concrete human being, because at this point in time it is more liquid than solid. Another interpretation is that the term is directly related to water into which the leech-child that Izanami and Izanagi conceived is sent, once they decide that they no longer want it. (LaFleur 78-79)

The reason for buying one of these dolls is not entirely unlike the bear sending back ceremony or the exorcism of a goryo spirit. The mizuko kuyō, which is the ceremony in which the mizuko Jizō is involved, is done in order to both thank the child for going back as well as wish that this child will return once the couple is ready to have the child. (Harrison 251) When such a ceremony is not performed the spirit may become vengeful and cause problems for the mother or her family. Likewise, by doing it the child may become a protective kami or mamorigami (守り神). (Harrison 264)

Another reason for the creation of the mizuko Jizō, which is a relatively new concept, emerging after World War II, is to enable the woman to acknowledge the child she never had, as well as the fact that she was, at one point or another, a mother, even if only for a brief moment. (Harrison 261) By having given the child a name, this is further acknowledging its presence in the universe, and thus the need for it to be remembered as though it were any other member of the family who had perished. (Harrison 110-111)

Some fun links: Anything and everything you want to know about Jizō. Directions to the Zojōji Temple, home of the Mizuko Jizō photographed here.

~guest blogger, Christina Bucci

I have a bunch of really cool blog assignments to post over the next couple of days, but I'm putting this up for today. In one of the discussion sections I was at, we closed up by talking about what a carnivalesque classroom would look like. Click on the play button for a lecture by Benjamin Zander on how he brings the carnival to the music classroom.

Kanpai! (Cheers!)

(This post is from Karen, and well-timed for our consideration of carnival. Thank you Karen!)

Like many things we’ve come across in our studies of Japanese religions, legend has it that sake (酒) originated in China. Sake production and consumption dates back to 2200 B.C.E. and according to the tale, sake was presented to King Wu of Zhou who enjoyed the drink so immensely that he went on to pass a law banning its consumption for fear of, “Sake [being] so good that people will surely be unable to limit their drinking and will ruin themselves and the country” (Naotaka). The ban was said to have been short lived and sake eventually made its way across the sea to Japan in the sixth century.

In Japan two forms of sake were produced and these were originally made by masticating rice. Depending on who was doing the chewing, you would either end up with the sake for religious rituals or the sake for social imbibition. Young virgins were the only ones who could produce the former (Naotaka). Yum!

As a derivative of rice – the paramount crop of Japan – sake has become key in many Shinto rituals and has taken on a purifying aspect. Sake production for Shinto use ultimately made its way to the sakadono or shrine’s wine hall where two types of ritual sake (also known as miki) were made: shiroki (light sake) and kuroki (dark sake) (Schumacher). These were produced for the numerous Shinto rituals where sake is the central element, such as naorai where a ritualized collective consumption of sake takes place. The sanku is another example of a ritual practice involving sake and is traditionally done at celebrations that honor a local or household kami. The ceremonial procedure involves sake, rice, cloth, or money being sprinkled about the four corners and the center of a ritual site, as an offering to the kami. A further instance of a sake ceremony traditionally performed at a Shinto shrine is the San-san-kudo (three-three-nine times). This ritual takes place during the Shinto marriage service, and involves the bride and the groom taking three sips of sake each from three nuptial cups as part of the ceremony’s matrimonial binding (Gauntner). (Check out a modern day san-san-kudo at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eAXSyw5EKWU)

Nature produces rice from which we get sake, therefore sake is considered to be, “a blessing from the gods” (Yasutaka). As a lot of sake is consumed because of its purifying nature (and because lets face it, its just that good), rituals must be performed in which sake is the key offering for the kami. This is because, as we have learned, to be virtuous and to show respect and thanks to the kami, their gifts to us must be returned to them. Also, sake is unique because of the light intoxication felt after its consumption. This inebriated feeling is likened to the feeling of being carried off into another world (Yasutaka), perhaps clarifying for us why sake is given such a special status in Shinto rituals.

Before I wrap up, here are a few interesting sake-related things:

The ten virtues of sake from “Mochi-Sake” (Cake and Sake), a kyōgen play:

1. Provides a friend when alone
2. Produces harmony for all people
3. Allows ordinary people to greet nobles with ease
4. Justifies meeting with friends
5. Provides companionship while traveling
6. Promotes long life
7. Is the king of 100 medicines
8. Helps sorrow to disappear
9. Aids recovery from fatigue
10. Warms the body in the cold

(borrowed from Naotaka Shinfuku’s “Japanese Culture and Drinking”)

Become a sake expert:

- http://www.esake.com/Workshop/workshopM.html

Learn how to pair sake with food:

- http://www.sake-world.com/html/sake-food.html

A guide to sake ceramics:

- http://www.e-yakimono.net/html/sake-shapes-guide.html

~guest blogger, Karen Simon

Shimenawa: A Spelling Dilemma

(This post came in from Bobby, just one day after Natasha submitted hers, and before Natasha's went up, so this seems like a good opportunity for comparing the different perspectives people bring to the material. Thanks very much Bobby!)

Entering a shrine, visiting a sacred site, even by simply entering a village you will undoubtedly come across a shimenawa. In their most basic function, shimenawa are a collection of straws twisted into a rope that marks a sacred space. Often shimenawa will be decorated with white pieces of zigzag shaped paper called shide (sometimes gohei) (Egenter 202). The actual Japanese orthography of the word itself, shimenawa, is both interesting and confusing. Shimenawa is often written as 注連縄, 標縄, or 締縄. Alternatively, numerical characters can be used as a reference to the number of straw threads in the rope braid (Motosawa 2005). However, for the purpose of this entry, we will just look at the three given examples and how they each give insight into the functions of the shimenawa.

In 注連縄, as in the other cases, the 縄 (nawa) means “rope”. Therefore our concern deals with the characters: 注 and 連. 注 has both the meaning of “pouring” or “flow” and “to note”; 連 means “to lead” or “to connect”. Together they imply a meaning of marking of the connections between two things. There are many cases in which shimenawa are used to connect two things. The most famous being the Meoto Iwa (or the Husband and Wife/Wedded Rocks) found off the coast of Futami, Mie. The two rocks, which are said to be representative of Izanagi (the large one) and Izanami (the small one), are connected by a gigantic shimenawa, representing their marriage or union (Japan Travel Guide).

The meaning of 標縄 alludes to the marking function of the shimenawa, something which most of us are more familiar with. This is most commonly expressed in the shimenawa being located within several areas within a shrine complex, not to mention home shrines, to mark sacred space. Moreover, as Yagi has noted, shimenawa have been used throughout Japanese history to mark the traditional boundaries of a village. Most often the shimenawa was located near the entrance or road leading to the village (Yagi 138). They served the purpose of either preventing a calamity from entering the village or to drive away one that already occurred. Yagi points out two ceremonies associated with this: the michi-kiri-nawa and the kanjou-kake. While both ceremonies differ, they share both a similar function; a shimenawa is hung across the road to the village in order to protect the village. Even though many shimenawa have been relocated to the area of the ujigami shrines (tutelary deities), the ones that remain have gone unmoved despite the building of houses outside the traditional boundaries (Yagi 139). At once it marks not only the traditional boundaries of the village but also the sacred space within the village.

The final orthography of shimenawa, 締縄, indicates a nature of binding or tying around. There are several examples of this occurring within the Shinto traditions, whether it be the artificial tree-forms discussed by Egenter, actual trees, scared stones or even barrels of sake (Egenter 202; Todd 13). By being tied around the sacred object or by having several shimenawa set around the perimeter of the object, the object can be marked as a temporary residence of a kami (Egenter 202). The shimenawa not only marks the area as sacred but also surrounds the area; creating a boundary that seemingly binds the sacred within. That is not to say the kami are bound but the point of contact between the human and kami is controlled or negotiated.

Shimenawa can take upon various meanings as well as usages. Though I have only shown examples that highlight the various meanings that are derived from its various orthographies, it should be noted that in a singular situation we can understand the function of the shimenawa on various levels: as simultaneously connecting, marking and binding.

~guest blogger, Robert Noble

(This seasonal post is from Kidist. Thank you Kidi!)

In Japan, the end of winter (by the lunar calendar) is celebrated every year in a special manner. Setsubun (February 3^rd) is the last day of winter and what comes with it is an interesting ritual: throwing beans.

Aside from the fun that it allegedly provides, the reasoning behind celebration of Setsubun is to ward off evil. There are three vital practices that ought to be performed such that one can be certain that evil has left.

First and foremost is the ritual of mame maki (throwing beans). Mishima asserts that the beans need to be roasted before they are thrown. This is logical since the thrown beans are to be picked up by the lucky ones attending the ritual and be eaten. The beans are called fuku mame, which translates to beans of luck. However, the most fortunate people are those that gather beans equal to the number of their age.

In this ceremony, it is customary to invite Japanese celebrities such as sumo wrestlers or people whose zodiac sign match the year to do the honor of scattering the beans, which usually takes place in temples and shrines (Sosnoski, 9 and Chavez).

It is also customary to do this ritual at home, where the members of the house throw the beans at the father—who masquerades as the devil (Chavez).

This relates to my second point; the other method to protect against evil is by having some of the celebrators wear masks to pretend to be the devil. The origin of this might be the Chinese celebration tsuina, wherein the Chinese wear masks to look like demons since the 8^th Century to mark the end of winter and to symbolize that the new year will be protected from evil (Sosnoski, 9). From this explanation, it is easy to see that both the Japanese and the Chinese visualize the demon to make the celebrations more real and because visualization makes it easier for one to believe that he/she is protected against the evil and it has indeed warded off.

The third way to drive evil away is by shouting: ‘oni wa soto’ (demons, get out) and ‘fuku wa uchi’ (happiness, come in). Sosnoski draws attention to this shouting stating it is somewhat a prayer (9). Thus, the Japanese are looking for some control over the devils and the shouting serves this purpose. Moreover, it is believed that the polite devils are supposed to stay away for a year once this ceremony has been observed (Chavez).

In general, looking at the three different methods the Japanese use to keep evil away has reminded me of an important concept that we have been discussing in class. That is, the bean thrower throws the fortune beans to expel the evil. However, it is the same beans that are to be eaten by the people looking for good luck. Thus, the beans signify bringing in purity (fortune) on the one hand, whereas they signify fending off pollution (evil) on the other hand.

For additional sources about related material, you might find these links interesting.

http://www.planettokyo.com/news/index.cfm/fuseaction/story/ID/80/

http://gojapan.about.com/cs/japanesefestivals/a/setsubun.htm

http://books.google.ca/books?id=sKw8OdVJgwgC&dq=daniel+sosnoski&printsec=frontcover&source=bl&ots=Gp0dXumtp4&sig=kwD2PyJiRyZ9SsCNyEAoq4u9OfI&hl=en&ei=NdSkSaroMZ3etgeP_6TWBA&sa=X&oi=book_result&resnum=7&ct=result#PPA9,M1

http://www2.gol.com/users/stever/setsubun.htm

~guest blogger, Kidist Assefa

Shimenawa

(This post is by Natasha. You should definitely read this one before you write your final paper. Thanks Natasha!)

Seen in these photographs are Shinto border ropes, shimenawa, which mark “the boundaries of an area that has been sanctified or purified, or an area to which the Kami might descend” (Nelson, 264). Shimenawa are frequently found either suspended horizontally from the torii to a shrine or ritual location, or wrapped around the base of a tree or stone. It is a symbol that has existed within the Japanese religious imagination since, as some interpreters suggest, the time of the Kojiki. The shimenawa’s presence in the Kojiki is believed to be represented as the rope which prevented Ama-terasu-opo-mi-kami from returning to the cave she hid herself inside of in chapter seventeen.

Traditionally, shimenawa were made in the home by farmers who used excess straw from rice harvest to produce the rope. Twisting rice straw, braiding it together and then securing it with string creates the body of the shimenawa. Afterwards, a wood or wire insert can be applied to ensure the shimenawa maintains its shape. Shimenawa are typically adorned with zig-zag shaped paper streamers called “shide,” which emphasize the demarcation of a boundary and create a rustling sound in movement, believed to awaken the kami.

The term shimenawa is based on the commonly held conception of rope (nawa) as an instrument of marking. “In ancient times shimenawa were used as signs of ownership or exclusive possession, and frequently written with the character 標 indicating a ‘marker’” (Encyclopedia of Shinto). In addition, shimenawa often mark a champion sumō wrestler, who may be seen wearing a decorative shimenawa draped with shide during the entrance ceremony of a sumō event. Primarily, however, shimenawa designate and demarcate spaces or objects that “somehow manifest the presence of kami more explicitly than do other sites [and thus contain] the concentrated power connecting people with the kami…” (Kasulis, 23). For example, trees are often marked by shimenawa as kami, sacred either by virtue of age, shape, or plantation by an emperor or empress (Kasulis, 20). Shimenawa may also be stretched across the road at the entrance of a village, symbolizing a border crossing and deity protection from disaster (Yasuyuki Yagi, 139). The same logic sometimes places shimenawa above household doorways. Shimenawa thus serve to bridge connection between humans and kami, fostering a tangible intimacy between worlds. By singling out objects and marking borders, shimenawa pull the religious imagination back toward the path of Shinto.

Shimenawa are not meant to dichotomize, say, powerful trees and powerless trees but are meant to rather remind one that “because of the omnipresence of kami, the tree was always spiritualized” (Kasulis, 18). Shimenawa are meant to strengthen and enforce the notion of interconnectivity, while at once embodying interconnectivity in and of themselves. Made from hundreds of small strands of straw twisted and woven together as one, a shimenawa rope simultaneously expresses borders and oneness, divide and interconnectivity.

~guest blogger, Natasha Chettiar

Fun with Fundoshi

(This post is courtesy of Mike. He found a lot of pretty amazing images--I'm only putting up three, including the one I found most hilarious. Thank you Mike!)

As we have seen in class, ritual and tradition are both integral to the everyday functioning of Shinto. Not only does Shinto prescribe cleansing rituals and walks beneath torii but custom carries all the way down quite literally to underpants. Fundoshi is the traditional Japanese version of a loincloth, first mentioned in the Nihongi as early as the eighth century and typically made from a lightweight cloth like cotton, gauze, or silk. Originally fundoshi was simply the ordinary form of underwear in Japan, formed from a single piece of cloth that is twisted and wrapped to form a sort of male thong (though fundoshi may be worn by women as well). While in the past fundoshi have been worn for the purposes of swimming, their use in the present day has been mostly restricted to ritual application during the many matsuri throughout the year. Most commonly, during matsuri men who carry the mikoshi (a miniature mock-up of a Shinto shrine) around to the people who worship at a particular shrine are required to adorn fundoshi in combination with happi, a traditional coat.

Fundoshi can appear in multiple forms, usually designed for different tasks or contexts. For instance, rokushaku fundoshi are one ‘shaku’ (Japanese version of a foot) wide and six ‘shaku’ (about six feet) long. Another variant is the ettchu fundoshi (literally ‘which exceeds half’), a shorter piece of fabric with a string sewn on one end that is tied around the waist such that a rectangular piece of cloth hangs in front of the groin like an apron. Ettchu fundoshi are said to have roots in China, supposedly appropriated from an earlier Chinese loincloth. In addition there is the mokko fundoshi, a hybrid of the rokushaku and ettchu that lacks the front apron of the ettchu and adds a larger piece of cloth to cover the buttocks than the rokushaku. Fundoshi have also appeared on haniwa, the terracotta figures used in ritual and burial during the Kofun period. Perhaps made most famous by the samurai who wore fundoshi under their armor, today fundoshi function both as the Japanese version of a jock strap and as the sole piece of clothing worn by the world renowned Kodo group of traditional taiko drummers. Fundoshi were also issued to Allied prisoners of war by the Japanese during World War II, however when the war ended Western-style underwear was introduced to the country and fundoshi were phased out even among the local population. Unconventional appearances of fundoshi include the Kanamara Matsuri (Festival of the Steel Phallus) in which a group of women adorned in nothing but fundoshi carry a giant model penis to celebrate fertility culminating in the ‘erection’ of the penis to a vertical position.



Fundoshi have appeared in the popular culture of the West as well, prominently displayed in such films as The Blue Lagoon and Zardoz (Sean Connery fundoshi!) along with the cartoon series Samurai Jack. Interestingly fundoshi appear in all colors and patterns except for black, which is considered to be a sign of the Yakuza, a Japanese organized crime gang, such that men who appear at matsuri with black fundoshi are considered to be dangerous. As for fundoshi’s ritual purity, a Japanese parable tells the story of a family whose bucket fell into a well. A young man who happened to be walking by disrobed down to his underwear (which must not have been fundoshi) to climb into the well and retrieve the bucket. When he returned the bucket to the family they would not drink from the well for days, complaining that the well would have been pure if he had only worn his fundoshi.

Be sure to check out the image that explains how fundoshi are tied so that next time you’ve got to jump down someone’s well and grab a bucket at least they won’t be mad afterward.

~guest poster, Michael Tauscher