Episode 31: The Romance of Saho Hime

December 16, 2020 Joshua Badgley

Yatsunada of Kōzuke attacking the rice castle of Saho Hime and her brother, as envisioned by the artist Tsukioka Yoshitoshi in 1880.

Alright, everyone, here’s your holiday episode: The tragic romance of Saho Hime. This episode was really a blast, and I can’t tell you how nice it was to be able to focus on a real “story”—I love the sleuthing behind putting together the different pieces of history, personally (that’s what pulls me down so many different rabbit holes), but this story is pretty cut and dried. Did it actually happen? Well, who knows. We are fairly certain they weren’t writing things down in this period, so it is unlikely to be entirely accurate. And of course they put a bit of a sheen on it to make the sovereign look to be justified and righteous. But the core story seems believable enough. Certainly there have been some stranger-than-fiction stories that really happened, so what does it hurt to accept it at more-or-less face value?

One thing out of this episode is a strangely named dagger—a dagger with a “multi-colored” cord. This may have referred to the creation of the blade, instead of an actual cord, but the multi-colored cord goes best with the story. It is unclear exactly what that would have looked like.

Dramatis Personae

Now I do want to address something that has come up, and I worried about this from the very beginning: keeping track of all of the different names and characters. And believe me, I struggle with this myself. The truth is, the chronicles weren’t really all that concerned with giving history and backstory and fleshing out all of the people that appear in it. In addition, as this is an English language podcast, I can only assume the lack of familiarity with the names can be pretty wild. Even if you know Japanese it doesn’t help, as many of the words that form the names have changed over the centuries in meaning or pronunciation—and in some cases we still aren’t quite sure where a name comes from or if it even is a true “name” as we would think of it. And don’t get me started about how many of these texts will happily use two, three, or four different names for the same person, sometimes radically different from one another. That said, let me try to at least capture the major dramatis personae in this episode.

Ikume Iribiko Isachi - AKA Suinin Tennō (a 7th or 8th century designation), aka the Sovereign of the Tamagaki Palace. Ikume is the 11th sovereign of Yamato, according to the Chronicles. He is the son of Mimaki Iribiko, the previous ruler, and likely lived around the latter 3rd century, in my opinion. Though he is the focus of the Chronicles, in some ways the action more revolves around him than is caused by him, per se.

Saho Hime - AKA Sawaji Hime. I suspect that “Sawaji” may be her actual name, such as it is, but between her and her brother, it is just as easy to use “Saho” to demonstrate their relationship. Saho Hime was married to Ikume Iribiko when he first took the throne, though she has her own royal heritage. Her father is said to have been Hiko Imasu, and her mother was Saho no Ōkurami Tome. Hiko Imasu was the son of sovereign Waka Yamatoneko Hiko Ōhihi (aka Kaika).

So to quickly draw the lineages of Saho Hime and Ikume Iribiko, it would go like this:

Waka Yamatoneko Hiko Ōhihi -> Mimaki Iribiko Iniye -> Ikume Iribiko Isachi
“ “ -> Hiko Imasu - > Saho Hime

Saho Hiko - We only know Saho Hiko by his title. “Hiko”, meaning “Prince” or “Lord”, probably derived from “Child (of the) Sun”, and what I assume to be a place name, “Saho”. He is Saho Hime’s elder brother. We often run into paired names like this—Saho Hiko and Saho Hime; Aga Hiko and Aga Hime; even Mimaki Iribiko and Mimaki Iribime. Although we can see a gendered pairing, it doesn’t tell us if there are generational differences, nor whether the two are blood relatives or related through marriage or other means. So it could mean, effectively, Father-Daughter (often the assumption when X-Hiko gives up X-Hime to marry the sovereign or someone else), Brother-Sister (as appears to be the case here), or husband-wife (as with Mimaki Iribiko and Mimaki Iribime… maybe). It could even mean more than one of these relationships. There is also something of an assumption, in many cases, that X-Hiko or X-Hime have some kind of authority in the land of X, but this isn’t clearly the case, and it is possible that a construction is name+hime as it is that it is place+hime. I’ll try to go into more details on the titles we are seeing, down below.

Homutsu Wake - AKA Homuchi Wake, or Homuji Wake. The son of Ikume Iribiko and Saho Hime, either born in the “rice castle” or else just before and taken by his mother into the encampment. He is generally treated as though he either does not speak or else babbles, like a child, even as an adult.

Hiko Tatasu Michi no Ushi - From Tanba (or Taniha) Province. “No Ushi”, which we see a lot, is probably the origin for “Nushi”, meaning lord or master (e.g. Ōkuninushi). He is a son of Hiko Imasu—so technically a half-brother to Saho Hiko and Saho Hime, which could be why Saho Hime recommended his daughters, her nieces. Other than his role in providing daughters and linking back to Hiko Imasu and the royal lineage, we really don’t have much about him in this account.

Hibasu Hime - Daughter of Hiko Tatasu Michi no Ushi of Tanba. Mother of the next sovereign (#12) Ōtarashi Hiko Oshiro Wake.

Yatsunada - Related to Kōdzuke, aka Kamitsukenu, over in the Kantō region, though not clear if he is from that region or just that they are claiming descent through him. He is the general in charge of laying siege to Saho Hiko’s fortifications.

Aketatsu no Miko - Another grandson of Hiko Imasu. He accompanied Homutsu Wake to Izumo. “Miko” here refers to a royal prince. Many of the direct Royal Family are actually given the honorific “Mikoto”, but “Miko” actually appears on quite a few. Most of the time I am dropping it because the names are already long enough, and it isn’t always consistent between the various Chronicles.

Unakami - Also accompanied Homutsu Wake to Izumo. Not much else on them in this particular part of the Chronicles.

Kihisatsumi - An ancestor of the Izumo no Miyatsuko, but otherwise a somewhat random introduction.

On the subject of titles and honorifics

So with all of these names, it may be helpful to go over a few of the name elements that keep showing up over and over again.

Hiko/Hime - Perhaps the most common one that we come across. It appears to derive from “child” or “woman” (respectively) of the Sun. Originally pronounced more like “Piko”/“Pime”.

Iribiko/Iribime - Similar to Hiko/Hime, this appears around the time they start talking about the 10th sovereign, Mimaki Iribiko.

Mikoto/Miko - These appear as honorifics. “Mikoto”, using different kanji, is used for the kami during the Age of the Gods, and eventually also used for various members of the royal house and others. “Miko”, as noted above, is also found specifically for royal princes. I assume it is related to “Mikoto”, as in some chronicles we see “Miko” and others “Mikoto” for the same individual. I often drop this in the podcast, and it is always at the end of the name. The others show up in the middle or even beginning of the name, so it is harder to really just drop them, and often, like with Saho Hime/Hiko they are distinguishing elements. “Mikoto” appears to have no particular gender.

Wake - This one shows up in the name of our next sovereign. It is considered a kabane title for members of the royal family

Miyatsuko - Chieftain/Provincial governor. Usually of the form “Province name” + “no Miyatsuko”. So like the Izumo no Miyatsuko.

Other Kabane - Other kabane ranks that show up are Omi, Sukune, Muraji, Atae, etc.

Other possible titles - There are other types of apparent possible titles that aren’t clear, but sure seem like that to me. For instance: “Mimi” and “Tohe”. These appear to be local lords or chieftains. Often these appear in constructions where “tsu” is used as a genitive particle (vice “no”).

References

Ō, Yasumaro, & Heldt, G. (2014). The Kojiki: An account of ancient matters. ISBN978-0-231-16389-7
Bentley, John. (2006). The Authenticity of Sendai Kuji Hongi: a New Examination of Texts, with a Translation and Commentary. ISBN-90-04-152253
Chamberlain, B. H. (1981). The Kojiki: Records of ancient matters. Rutland, Vt: C.E. Tuttle Co. ISBN4-8053-0794-3
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4
Philippi, D. L. (1968). Kojiki. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press. ISBN4-13-087004-1

Episode 30: Yamato and the Continent

December 1, 2020 Joshua Badgley

These bronze spirals, which in this case come from Gimhae—what was once part of Gaya—in the 4th C, have been suggested as shield ornaments, though in truth nobody is quite sure what they were used for. They are representative, though, of the shared… — These bronze spirals, which in this case come from Gimhae—what was once part of Gaya—in the 4th C, have been suggested as shield ornaments, though in truth nobody is quite sure what they were used for. They are representative, though, of the shared forms and patterns between the peninsula and the archipelago as part of what Gina Barnes calls the Pen/Insular Culture. Similar spirals are found elsewhere in Japan, including at Yoshinogari, from about the 1st-2nd centuries. From the Seoul National Museum, photo by author.

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This episode we start to move on into the latter part of the 3rd century, with Mimaki Iribiko’s successor, Ikume Iribiko. This episode deals with the state of the continent and the peninsula as we get one (or possibly more) visitors from those lands. We also tackle the sticky question about “Mimana” and the claims of a Japanese colony on the peninsula, which were used to justify Japanese involvement in the peninsula in the 20th century. Most of the info is in the episode, but I’ll try to lay out a few things here.

About “Kara” v. “Gaya”

So many names of things on the peninsula have changed over the years, largely because of how things were recorded. The first system of writing that was used was Sinitic writing, just as in Japan, and so the characters used were not strictly phonetic. Korea would develop its own phonetic alphabet, Hangul, just as Japan would develop katakana and hiragana, but not until much later. The early chronicles were all written with Chinese characters, and so their pronunciation is typically something debated as linguists attempt to reconstruct the old pronunciations. In general what we know today as Gaya was probably pronounced something like “Garak”, “Gara”, or even “Kara” in its own time. In much of east Asia, voiced and unvoiced consonants can be almost interchangeable, with aspiration playing a more important role, which is almost reversed from English. This can make it hard to always see the relationships between things.

As for the relationship in Japanese—as I mention in the podcast, we have various things referring to the continent that all get a “kun’yomi” reading of “Kara”. So for instance you can find 漢・唐・観 all as “Kara”, when these characters represent, respectively, the Han Dynasty (KAN), the Tang Dynasty (TOU), and Korea (KAN). Basically anything that came from the continent through the peninsula was pronounced in the same way as “Gara” or “Garak”, which was spelled in various ways including: 加羅, 伽羅, 迦羅, 柯羅, 駕洛, 迦落.

And while we are talking about potentially confusing homophones in the text, I think that we should have a talk about “Han”. I believe I mentioned this before about the fact that we have the “Han” dynasty and then we have the “Samhan” or the three Han. It is quite confusing, but the truth is that these are different words that sound the same but use different characters. So for instance you have 漢 or 汉, which are both pronounced “Han” in modern Putonghua dialect of Chinese, and which refer to either the Han dynasty or, today, the ethnic Han people—the majority ethnicity of modern China. Then you have 韓, which is also pronounced “Han” in Chinese and Korean, and it is used to refer to Korea (the modern name of the Republic of Korea is Daehan Minguk: 大韓民國), but its original use appears to have been in referring to the three Han of the Korean Peninsula. To even further complicate matters, in Japanese both are pronounced with the same On’yomi of “KAN”.

So this has two problems. First is determining when we are talking about the ethnic Han of China, to which some might just suggest that we call them “Chinese”. However, not all of the dynasties of the area that we know as China were ethnically Han. Many of them descended from different ethnic roots. Even the Tang dynasty was not considered an ethnic Han dynasty, and neither was the more recent Qing dynasty—and we aren’t even talking about the Mongolian Yuan. On top of that, we should be careful of conflating modern states and political entities with previous states or governments, especially in an area as diverse as East Asia.

Even on the peninsula, which is only a fraction of the size of the rest of the continent, we know that there were a variety of cultures mixing and mingling, and a variety of languages that were being spoken.

Duck Shaped Vessels

These duck-shaped vessels were popular in the areas that would become Gaya and Silla prior to the Three Kingdoms period. From the Seoul National Museum, photo by author.

Duck shaped vessels

These duck-shaped vessels were popular in the areas that would become Gaya and Silla prior to the Three Kingdoms period. From the Seoul National Museum, photo by author.

Glass Beadmold, 1C-3C

Mold for making glass beads on the peninsula. From the Seoul National Museum. Photo by author.

Ritual Artifact with Birds 3C-4C

Bronze ritual artifact from Goseong showing a pair of birds. Birds were an important part of the spiritual and religious life of the peninsula in early days, and even today you can find sotdae—poles topped with birds—in the Korean countryside.

Bronze TLV Mirror, 4C

From Gimhae, which also has a set of “royal” tombs that appear in the 3rd C. Bronze mirrors, originally acquired from the Han and later dynasties, were not only prestige items in the archipelago, but on the continent as well. From the Seoul National Museum, photo by author.

Bronze Spearhead 2C-3C

Bronze socketed spearhead from Gimhae around the time that the Gaya states were forming. From the Seoul National Museum, photo by author.

Japanese Bronze Spirals 1C-3C

Bronze spiral ornaments from Japan.. From the Tokyo National, photo by author.

Magatama and other Jewelry

Examples of magatama (the comma shaped jewel) on the Korean peninsula. This design may have originated in the archipelago and then traveled west, demonstration cultural borrowing in both directions. From the Seoul National Museum, photo by author.

W. Jin Soldier, 3C

A statue of a soldier from the Western Jin, about the 3rd Century. From the Tokyo National Museum, photo by author.

References

Barnes, G. (2015). Archaeology of East Asia: The Rise of Civilization in China, Korea and Japan. Oxbow Books. Retrieved November 30, 2020, from http://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt19893vd
Ō, Yasumaro, & Heldt, G. (2014). The Kojiki: An account of ancient matters. ISBN978-0-231-16389-7
Vovin, Alexander (2013). "From Koguryǒ to T’amna*: Slowly riding to the South with speakersof Proto-Korean." Korean LInguistics 15:2. John Benjamins Publishing Company. doi:10.1075/kl.15.2.03vov
Barnes, Gina L. (2007). State Formation in Japan: Emergence of a 4th-Century Ruling Elite. Routlede. ISBN 9780415596282
Bentley, John. (2006). The Authenticity of Sendai Kuji Hongi: a New Examination of Texts, with a Translation and Commentary. ISBN-90-04-152253
Soumaré, Massimo (2007), Japan in Five Ancient Chinese Chronicles: Wo, the Land of Yamatai, and Queen Himiko. ISBN: 978-4-902075-22-9
Kidder, J. Edward (2007), Himiko and Japan's Elusive Chiefdom of Yamatai: Archaeology, History, and Mythology. ISBN: 978-0824830359
Barnes, Gina L. (1988). Protohistoric Yamato: Archaeology of the First Japanese State. ISBN 0-915703-11-4
Chamberlain, B. H. (1981). The Kojiki: Records of ancient matters. Rutland, Vt: C.E. Tuttle Co. ISBN4-8053-0794-3
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4
Philippi, D. L. (1968). Kojiki. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press. ISBN4-13-087004-1

Episode 29: The August Founder

November 16, 2020 Joshua Badgley

Artist’s interpretation of the 10th sovereign, Sujin

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This episode, we cover the rest of Mimaki Iribiko’s reign in the Chronicles and discuss a little more about what actual context may have looked like around that time—assuming his chronicle is talking about around the 3rd century, about the time of Queen Himiko.

To start with, let’s look at some of the connections I suggested with the Chronicles:

The Ministers of Yamato:

Kanji	Tsunoda	Kidder	Soumare
伊支馬	Ikima	Ikima	Ikima
彌馬升	Mimasho	Mimato	Mimashi
彌馬獲支	Mimagushi	Mimawaki	Mimakaki
奴佳鞮	Nakato	Nakato	Nakatei

Compare some of those with the sovereign, Mimaki Iribiko, and his son, Ikume Iribiko. Now, this isn’t evidence that any of this is remotely related, but we also know that there are differences just between the Chronicles themselves on the pronunciation of many of these individuals, so who knows just what the original pronunciation was?

Now when talking about all these places and what is going on, sometimes it just helps to have a map. One of the things we talk about in the episode is the extent to which the iron forging technology had extended across the archipelago. Note that these are forges, which can help shape iron, but they are not bloomeries, where they actually create the raw iron ingots from ore for smiths to then turn into useful items. The bloomeries appear to have operated as a monopoly on the mainland for some time, jealously guarding their secrets, and keeping the islands dependent on their trade.

Rough map, showing what may have been the extent of the early and later iron forging technologies. Based on geographic extent noted by Gina L. Barnes (Barnes, 2007) and a map by Ash_Crow, CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons.

The early iron forging technology can be seen here as roughly described by Gina L. Barnes. I’ve used a map with the ancient provinces, though borders were not quite that specific in ancient days, and the coloring shows the rough extent—there may be other areas that just have not yet been discovered and some of the colored areas may have actually had no real access to the technology—in other words, this is for illustrative purposes, but I’d suggest checking some truly scholarly source for more rigorous data.

Now, the later technology relies on a tuyere, or tube, which allows air to be pushed into the forge, which in turn increases the combustion, increasing the heat that is produced. Higher temperatures allow for more efficient and different types of forging. I don’t want to get into the complexities of iron metallurgy right here, but basically iron’s properties can be controlled by a variety of mechanisms, including the temperature you heat it to, how fast or slow it cools down, physical work hardening (like when you bend a paper clip so many times and it gets a little harder just before it snaps), and then adulterating the iron with carbon or other elements. These can produce different shapes in the structure of the iron itself, which is why iron, cast iron, steel, etc. are all so different.

That said, would it have been enough of a leap to make these sites technologically superior? And was that enough? Or was it just that because these particular areas were connected, when they got the technology it spread in those areas where forging technology had not already been found? Why didn’t the previous areas adopt the new technology? Was it too much for them to change their established processes, while in areas where it had not been established it was easy to simply adopt the contemporary technology? I am not sure I could say.\

However, we can compare the extent of the iron working technology to the spread of the later keyhole tombs that showed up in the beginning of the kofun period. Only a few small examples appear before Hashihaka and the Makimuku cluster. Below maps show areas that archaeologically were fairly active—they appear to have chiefly or kingly activities—and then the regions where we find the actual kofun built.

Areas identified as having politically active areas in the late Yayoi to start of the Kofun period. Light areas identified by Sasaki (1995) and dark areas by Mizoguchi (2000), as noted in Barnes (2007). Original map by Ash_Crow, CC BY-SA 3.0 via W… — Areas identified as having politically active areas in the late Yayoi to start of the Kofun period. Light areas identified by Sasaki (1995) and dark areas by Mizoguchi (2000), as noted in Barnes (2007). Original map by Ash_Crow, CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons. Modified by author.

Areas with keyhole tombs identified by Mizoguchi (2009). Areas are not precise, and any polity may not have had actual control in all of the shaded regions. Dark areas had round keyhole tombs, while shaded areas had square or other keyhole tomb s… — Areas with keyhole tombs identified by Mizoguchi (2009). Areas are not precise, and any polity may not have had actual control in all of the shaded regions. Dark areas had round keyhole tombs, while shaded areas had square or other keyhole tomb styles. Original map by Ash_Crow, CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons. Modified by author.

The question in all this remains: Why is this spreading from Kinki—from the Makimuku area—outward and why not from Northern Kyushu? After all, Northern Kyushu is closer to the mainland and should have better trade linkages. It isn’t like the court at the base of Mt. Miwa could just fly past and on to the continent themselves.

In truth, we really don’t know, but there are several hypothesis. One is that the Nara Basin provided enough rice paddies for significant population growth and that their position between eastern and western Honshu made them a natural trading point. It still doesn’t quite explain why the round keyhole tombs proliferated quite as they did—was it submission, or competition, or something else? There doesn’t seem to be a single answer just yet, though historians and archaeologists continue provide their theories.

One more thing, while we are talking about territories and maps: let’s take a look at the areas that the Chronicles appear to cover.

Rough map of the areas that appear to be described in the Chronicles related to Mimaki Iribiko’s reign. Original map by Ash_Crow, CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons. Modified by author.

Now, this map is my own creation, as there is nothing so precise in the Chronicle, and even then, its claims seem far more grandiose than what is shown here, even. Yamato likely only directly controlled the area of the southeast Nara basin. How much direct control they had beyond that is unknown—they must have had some power, but there is no archaeological evidence suggesting a unified state as we would think of it with direct control to much extent until several centuries later. Still, the areas that are discussed do appear to be areas that can be correlated with both the non-local pottery found at Makimuku and with some of the other geographic signs seen in the earlier maps. Still, this is conjecture as the directions that the four generals took is unfortunately rather vague. For instance, was the Eastern Road just following the coast, and was there any movement in the central part of Eastern Honshu? This mountainous region may have taken time to bring into any particular state, as one imagines that the valleys could have had numerous settlements that had no particular affiliation outside their own local group.

On Kibi

So I hope there might be enough on Kibi to eventually pull together an episode just on this place—an apparent powerhouse during the early and Kofun periods, but perhaps not known so well as other areas of Japan. This is in part due to how it was carved up into various other provinces—something that was not uncommon. Koshi (越), meaning “to go beyond”, was broken into three provinces—Echizen (越前), Etchū (越中), and Echigo (越後)—using the other reading of the kanji for “Koshi”. A similar process happened with Kibi (吉備), but they simply used the final character, creating Bizen (備前), Bitchū (備中), and Bingo (備後). Later, they would break off another portion to be known as Mimasaka (美作).

Of course, for all of its size and apparent importance, we don’t hear quite as much about the gods of Kibi—not like those of Izumo—though there does seem to be some bleed-over across the mountains, which is not entirely surprising. While we may not know everything about Kibi’s greatness, its position in the Kofun period seems quite clear by the number of large kofun that still dot the landscape.

The Plains of Kibi

View of the plains and distant Kojima, where the Kibi kingdom once thrived, looking towards the Seto Inland Sea.

Kibitsu Shrine

This is the shrine dedicated to Kibitsu Hiko in modern Okayama.

Kibitsu Inner Shrine

This is the inner shrine of Kibitsu Jinja

Momotaro, et al

Statue of Momotaro in downtown Okayama. Even today, he is a beloved figure in the city, and the people of Okayama claim him as one of their own.

Tsukuriyama Kofun

The largest kofun in Okayama and the 4th largest in the archipelago, this round keyhole shape tomb dates from the 5th century—a couple hundred years, give or take, after our current narrative. It is believed to be the burial place of a local “king”, given its tremendous size.

Ki no Jo (鬼ノ城)

The ”Demon's Castle” on the mountainside overlooking the plains of ancient Kibi. Though the gate and rammed earth walls have been partially reconstructed in modern times, people have long been aware of its presence in this area, spawning conjecture and inspiring local myths and legends.

Ki no Jo Gate

The reconstructed Ki no Jo gate. Again, this is many centuries past our current narrative

References

Ō, Yasumaro, & Heldt, G. (2014). The Kojiki: An account of ancient matters. ISBN978-0-231-16389-7
Kishimoto, Naofumi (2013). Dual Kingship in the Kofun Period as Seen from the Keyhole Tombs. UrbanScope: e-Journal of the Urban-Culture Research Center, OCU. http://urbanscope.lit.osaka-cu.ac.jp/journal/pdf/vol004/01-kishimoto.pdf
Mizoguchi, Koji. (2009). Nodes and Edges: A Network Approach to Hierarchisation and State Formation in Japan. Journal of Anthropological Archaeology - J ANTHROPOL ARCHAEOL. 28. 14-26. 10.1016/j.jaa.2008.12.001.
Barnes, Gina L. (2007). State Formation in Japan: Emergence of a 4th-Century Ruling Elite. Routlede. ISBN 9780415596282
Bentley, John. (2006). The Authenticity of Sendai Kuji Hongi: a New Examination of Texts, with a Translation and Commentary. ISBN-90-04-152253
Soumaré, Massimo (2007), Japan in Five Ancient Chinese Chronicles: Wo, the Land of Yamatai, and Queen Himiko. ISBN: 978-4-902075-22-9
Kidder, J. Edward (2007), Himiko and Japan's Elusive Chiefdom of Yamatai: Archaeology, History, and Mythology. ISBN: 978-0824830359
Barnes, Gina L. (1988). Protohistoric Yamato: Archaeology of the First Japanese State. ISBN 0-915703-11-4
Chamberlain, B. H. (1981). The Kojiki: Records of ancient matters. Rutland, Vt: C.E. Tuttle Co. ISBN4-8053-0794-3
Ledyard, G. (1975). Galloping along with the horseriders: looking for the founders of Japan. Journal of Japanese Studies. 1: 217-254
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4
Philippi, D. L. (1968). Kojiki. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press. ISBN4-13-087004-1

Episode 28: The Birth of the Miwa Cult

November 1, 2020 Joshua Badgley

A view of Mt. Miwa in the southeast Nara Basin. This sacred mountain and its local deity may have been the birthplace of Yamato. Photograph by “A photographer,” (sic) CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

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We are finally at a place in the Chronicles that we can start to bring things together—the archaeology, the Chinese chronicles, and the Japanese chronicles. Mind you, there are still plenty of questions, but it certainly feels like the fog is starting to clear. There are still a few connections we will have to make, and some assumptions as well.

Chronicles

So let’s start with the Chronicles. The Kojiki doesn’t give dates, but where we are given them in the Nihon Shoki and elsewhere, they don’t make a lot of sense. Things seem to be better by the time we reach the 10th sovereign, but they still aren’t great. We are pretty sure that none of this was happening in the 1st century BCE, at least. So we’ll take that with a grain of salt—possibly throw it out altogether. Still, let’s look at where this action is taking place and how that correlates to other things we know.

You see, much of the action centers around Mt. Miwa. Specifically the god of Mt. Miwa, known as Ōmononushi no Kami, the Great Master of the People/Things. Of course, there is a lot in the Chronicles explaining the importance of Ōmononushi, including his connection with the Great Land Master, Ōkuninushi no kami, of Izumo. And in these chapters, even Amaterasu no Ōkami takes a back seat in the narrative, with just a brief mention that the two were worshipped together, but it is Ōmononushi who is sought out as both the cause and cure to the pestilence plaguing the land.

In the Chronicles, the worship of Ōmononushi was given to a man named Ōtataneko, so one would think that he would be an important figure. However, other than the sovereign, who generally takes center stage, there is another person who takes center stage. Yamato Totothi Momoso Hime, a member of the Royal Family, described as Mimaki Iribiko’s “aunt”, is described as actually marrying the god of Mt. Miwa. In addition to this, she goes on to, several times, display her prowess as a seer and shaman, helping to guide the actions of her nephew, who is nominally the actual sovereign.

The marker for the supposed site of the Shiki Mizugaki palace originally placed in the Takanuka, CC BY 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Speaking of the sovereign, he is also connected to Mt. Miwa—not only by his visitations with the mountain’s god, but also his palace is said to have been in the shadow of Mt. Miwa, believed to have been near the current site of Shiki-Agatanushi-Suwa Jinja (which I translate to something along the lines of “The Shrine of the Seat of the Ancient Chieftain of Shiki”). It was considered an “old” shrine by Heian era, at leas. Whether it is the actual site of the Mizugaki palace, who knows? There is a marker, but obviously, that only really tells us what we already know, since it was erected in the Taishō era. Still, for those tracking down the ancient sites in the Nara basin, it may be some where to look into. There is also the Makimuku site, nearby, which also contains a palace in the stories—the palace of Mimaki Iribiko’s successor, the Tamagaki (or Tamaki) Palace.

We’ll discuss more about Mimaki Iribiko next episode, but there is one other feature of all of this and that is the connection between a “palace” (miya) and “shrine” (miya). Early on, they say that both Amaterasu and Ōmononushi were worshipped together in the palace. Likewise, in the discussion of Ōkuninushi during the Age of the Gods, he was given a palace to live in, which is now Izumo Taisha. This idea that the palace was where various spiritual or religious rites were held, and the fact that this palace was also at the foot of Mt. Miwa seems to add to the idea that this is the beginning of what some people call the Miwa Cult or even the Miwa Court. The previous sovereigns in the Chronicles, in contrast, all tend to have their palaces located elsewhere, especially around the Kashihara region.

Archaeology

So it is all good going on about the Chronicles, but what does the archaeology say? Well, it isn’t conclusive—remember, a lot of the evidence is things like holes in the ground that we assign a meaning to based on their characteristics and various assumptions, and many of the kofun are still off-limits to a thorough excavation—but there is a lot of evidence for activity in the area around the foot of Mt. Miwa in the Terminal Yayoi to Early Kofun period. This mostly comes from sites in a roughly 2 km strip known as the Makimuku District. Besides finding remnants of a large, pillared structure that is believed to have been an early “palace” building, there is fair amount of pottery. A key to the pottery is that much of it—about 15~30% of it—is non-local, meaning it came from outside the Nara Basin. That includes pottery—much of it cooking pots—from Eastern Honshu, the Japan Sea Coast, and the Seto Inland Sea regions. The fact that much of it is in the form of cooking pots suggests that it was not just imported prestige goods, but likely brought by people from those regions as part of their everyday supplies and household goods. That suggests that a lot of people from the nearby areas of the archipelago were coming to live in this region, around the foot of Mt. Miwa in the SE Nara Basin.

Then, of course, there are the kofun themselves. While some of the kofun—often the largest ones that we suspect would provide some of the most information, were we able to prove or disprove their connection to any given sovereign—are off limits to us, archaeologically speaking, there are a fair number that have been explored. Together with information that has been found through excavation, characteristics such as the shape, any ceramics found on or near, and similar things can give us information about when they were built. Originally, it was thought that the Kofun period started about the year 300, and went from the 4th century onward. This has largely been revised to start about 250—including the latter half of the 3rd century and starting roughly around the time that Queen Himiko’s burial is mentioned.

View of Hashihaka Kofun from the side. Today, the main mound can be difficult to make out, as is covered in trees, but from the air one can see its distinctive round-keyhole shape. Photo taken and dedicated to public domain by Saigen Jiro, via Wiki… — View of Hashihaka Kofun from the side. Today, the main mound can be difficult to make out, as is covered in trees, but from the air one can see its distinctive round-keyhole shape. Photo taken and dedicated to public domain by Saigen Jiro, via Wikimedia Commons

In the process, we’ve also identified kofun that appear to be earlier—probably having been built around the mid to later 3rd century. One of the kofun identified as being from this period is the one known as Hashihaka kofun. Now it is good to remember that there is nothing that really identifies which kofun is which, and the story of Yamato Totohi Momoso Hime no Mikoto in the Chronicles doesn’t give GPS style coordinates to identify where her kofun actually is. In addition to that, it was being written down centuries after the fact, and so even if they identified the same tomb mound then as we do today, it is unclear how many of those are accurate. Certainly the supposed derivation of the name seems inaccurate as chopsticks (hashi) were probably still a century or two off. Regardless of how well we can identify a particular named kofun mound, it is significant that there are large mounds from the 3rd century in the shadow of Mt. Miwa. In fact, for this period, Hashihaka kofun is one of the largest, likely indicating a key figure—probably an ancient chieftain or sovereign, at least.

Many specialists believe that this may have been the start of the round-keyhole mounds, which have been assumed for some time to be indicative of the culture of the period. Soon after the ones in the Nara Basin are built, they begin to show up in areas elsewhere around the archipelago, either as part of the larger polity or perhaps in competition therewith, but still indicative of a cultural shift happening around this time.

Now don’t get me wrong, there are earlier tomb mounds out there. Gina Barnes refers to these as “Mounded Burials”, to distinguish the period of cultural change associated with the Kofun period. I mean, it isn’t as if people just decided one day to start burying important people under tremendously huge piles of earth. We’ve mentioned the old funkyubo, and it seems there were even some mounded burials that were reserved for a single individual. However, nothing to the extent of what we find with Hashihaka and later sites, and so Gina Barnes and others reserve the term “Mounded Tomb” for the period when we believe we have the actual start of the Mounded Tomb Culture—i.e. the Kofun period.

The Chinese Chronicles

Of course, when we talk about the Chinese Chronicles at this point we are really talking about two in particular: The Later Han and the Wei Dynasty historical chronicles. Even then, the Later Han mostly gives us an idea of what things were like in the first century or so, and that is more helpful in setting some boundaries than in fully describing what is happening in the 3rd century. Also, you may recall that despite the names, the Later Han dynasty chronicles were actually compiled much later, and may have cribbed some of their information and notes from the Wei Chronicles.

The Wei Chronicles, of course, describe Queen Himiko and her kingdom of Yamato/Yamatai. Here it is good to remember that “Yamatai” is a modern Japanese on’yomi reading of the characters used, and something much more similar to “Yamato” would have likely been based on the Chinese reading at the time. Himiko (or Pimiko) was the Queen of Yamato, which appeared to be at the head of some kind of confederacy of states. The description paints her, in the eyes of many, as a female shaman, and there is an administrator—recorded as her younger brother, though it is unclear how well that particular term would have suited him—who is said to have helped her. Together they sent embassies to the commanderies on the Korean peninsula and thence onward to the Wei capital.

Now, the Wei Chronicles refer to Yamato and the various polities in the confederation as “states” or “guo”. Today, this is used for countries, like China, Japan, and the US. But at this time, it probably had a meaning more along the lines of “political unit” with a hierarchy and administrator or ruler, but it is unclear just how strict they were being. A good analogy may be the way that the early European descriptions of Japan often referred to the daimyō as “kings”, a term that today we tend to associate with much greater authority than most daimyō could lay legitimate claim to. For this reason, many people are wary of using the term “state” for the early political units that we see, and reserve that for the period when Japan adopts a continental style system of administration, known as the ritsuryō. Until then, we might see reference to the Yamato Seiken, for the area under Yamato control, or even a reference to simply the Yamato Chōtei, or the Yamato Court.

Regardless of what we call it, there seem to be two things we can know: First, that the Wei court believed it to be one of the dominant political unit in the area, and second, that it did not go unchallenged. There is reference to another entity, against which Queen Himiko was contending, and which may have even prompted her attempt to reach out for assistance from the mainland. Even in the Chronicles we see that there is still conflict and disorder in the land—despite the earlier accounts, there has not really been a single, lasting administration that has demonstrated hegemony over the three main islands of the archipelago.

Conflict Between the Sources

Of course, for all that it seems nice and wrapped up, above, there is still plenty of conflict between our sources of information. For one thing, the dating in the Japanese Chronicles is a huge problem point. The dates are clearly fictional, but how can we even begin to correlate them to a reasonable period? We cannot ignore that some of the “adjustments” made to the dates in the Nihon Shoki are motivated by a desire to match up what was written down with what we see in the archaeological and continental records. Is this fair? That’s a good question. Some have proposed other dating systems—for instance, assuming an average reign length of only 10 years for the sovereigns that appeared before those we can trace to other sources or have a fair reason to believe are accurate. This pulls everything much further forward in time, and disconnects us completely from the Wei Chronicles. According to this theory, Himiko would have been a forerunner of Mimaki Iribiko, lost to the depths of time, explaining her absence in the Japanese histories.

Of course, some dating systems would pull Mimaki Iribiko no Mikoto up, but not quite that far. Some have suggested that he might be one of the earlier referenced individuals—a predecessor to Queen Himiko, whose absence then remains a mystery.

Speaking of which, where is Himiko? I know we’ve spent a lot of time talking about it, but it really is the piece that generates perhaps the most debate and discussion. How could she have been so powerful as to send envoys to the Wei court and be counted the “Queen of the Wa”, but then not appear anywhere in the Japanese histories?

Some of this we go into the podcast, so I encourage listeners to go there first and come back here afterwards, and we’ll cover some of the same ground. Of course, we cannot discount the fact that when writing did come over, it came with other continental concepts, such as patriarchal concepts of what and who a ruler should be, which would have influenced the opinions of those putting together all of these ancient stories and anecdotes. Also, if they were using genealogical records, which seems clearly to be the case, the lines appear to be traced through the father, and even then, if Himiko didn’t have any children of her own, would she have even appeared in the genealogical record? One would hardly think that she wouldn’t, given her apparent status.

And of course, her name in the Wei Chronicles could be little more than a title—possibly even a misheard or improperly recorded title at that. Many point to the idea that “Himiko” could simply be “Child of the Sun” or a shortening of titles like “HIme no MIKOto”. And so it is possible she was identified by some other name entirely in the Japanese traditions. I’d argue it is also possible, though unlikely, that the name may not have had the kinds of gender signifiers that later Japanese chroniclers would recognize. If so, perhaps she was misgendered, and shows up as an entirely different figure.

It also occurs to me that it is possible she was part of some other polity—perhaps she was the impetus behind the story of Take Haniyasu and was part of a competing lineage group. Many of the mirrors from around that time have been traced back to a kofun in the northern part of the Nara Basin, Tsubai Ōtsukayama, in Yamashiro. Still, if that were the case, wouldn’t we expect to see that noted in the Wei histories, rather than having a young relative take the throne soon thereafter? And why would the name be the same? Himiko’s rivals were from another polity altogether, it would seem, not Yamato, unless that was just a fiction in how she depicted it to the Wei court.

And, of course, there is another problem with the sources—why don’t the Japanese chronicles mention the embassies to the mainland? One would think those would be quite prominent. And they should have known about them—later they quote from them during the reign of a later sovereign. Of course, with the timing that they’ve given everything, perhaps they couldn’t figure out where it actually fit in the timeline and so ignored it. It is quite likely that most of the anecdotal information was extremely disjointed, only tied in by the names of individuals who were mentioned. If those individuals were “placed” in the wrong time it might be hard to match up with the Wei records. And of course, the Chroniclers were probably more concerned about the believed truth of the royal lineage in their own time than they were about what the facts were like centuries ago.

Conclusion

For my part, I still lean towards the idea that Himiko is, in fact, Yamato Totohi Momoso Hime, or at least the latter is a cognate for the former. I suspect that she was part of a ruling pair in the southern Nara basin at the foot of Mt. Miwa. She was in charge of spiritual affairs while her co-ruler would have overseen the administrative duties, and they were likely related, if not brother and sister. At the time, her position may have been the stronger of the two, as evidenced by the work that went into her tomb mound. The “rival” that we hear about in the Wei history may be represented by another ruling pair—Take Haniyasu and Ata Bime, in Yamashiro. That conflict was likely not quite so cut and dry as it is made out to be, the messy realities of history having been likely smoothed over in favor of a simpler narrative. As for the next “Queen” that follows her, Iyo (or, possibly, Toyo)? Perhaps they are referring to Toyosuki Hime, the princess who was sent to worship Amaterasu, or even Yamato Hime, who we’ll get to know in the reign of the next sovereign, Again, things aren’t perfect, and their roles may have been largely forgotten and repurposed to the story of Amaterasu, but it is something to consider. Either way, if they did not have children of their own, they may have not made it into the genealogical lists, which could also explain much of this confusion.

So that’s all for this episode. I hope you enjoyed it. We are going to pick up next time with the continuation of Mimaki Iribiko’s story.

References

Ō, Yasumaro, & Heldt, G. (2014). The Kojiki: An account of ancient matters. ISBN978-0-231-16389-7
Kishimoto, Naofumi (2013). Dual Kingship in the Kofun Period as Seen from the Keyhole Tombs. UrbanScope: e-Journal of the Urban-Culture Research Center, OCU. http://urbanscope.lit.osaka-cu.ac.jp/journal/pdf/vol004/01-kishimoto.pdf
Barnes, Gina L. (2007). State Formation in Japan: Emergence of a 4th-Century Ruling Elite. Routlede. ISBN 9780415596282
Bentley, John. (2006). The Authenticity of Sendai Kuji Hongi: a New Examination of Texts, with a Translation and Commentary. ISBN-90-04-152253
Soumaré, Massimo (2007), Japan in Five Ancient Chinese Chronicles: Wo, the Land of Yamatai, and Queen Himiko. ISBN: 978-4-902075-22-9
Kidder, J. Edward (2007), Himiko and Japan's Elusive Chiefdom of Yamatai: Archaeology, History, and Mythology. ISBN: 978-0824830359
Barnes, Gina L. (1988). Protohistoric Yamato: Archaeology of the First Japanese State. ISBN 0-915703-11-4
Chamberlain, B. H. (1981). The Kojiki: Records of ancient matters. Rutland, Vt: C.E. Tuttle Co. ISBN4-8053-0794-3
Ledyard, G. (1975). Galloping along with the horseriders: looking for the founders of Japan. Journal of Japanese Studies. 1: 217-254
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4
Philippi, D. L. (1968). Kojiki. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press. ISBN4-13-087004-1

Episode 27: 9 Fictional Sovereigns and 1 (Possibly) Real One

October 16, 2020 Joshua Badgley

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Welcome back. This episode we go over sovereign’s 2-9, covering what the chronicles claim to be about 500 years, from only a few centuries after the introduction of rice to the end of the early Yayoi period. And while it is certainly possible that some of the stories in the Chronicles could go back to the Yayoi period, there is no evidence for the kind of state that the chronicles seem to imply.

That said, most of these sovereigns stories do have a connection to the Nara Basin—particularly the area of Shiki. In the below map you can see the modern Shiki district of Nara Prefecture, north of Kashihara but in ancient times it was much larger, and would have included much of Sakurai, Mt. Miwa, Tenri, and many of the areas believed to be associated with the early Yamato state.

Speaking of “Yamato”, one of the things I note in the podcast is that “Yamato” is often written with an old character: 倭. This is the character used in many of the Chinese chronicles, from which we get the term “Wo” or “Wa” for the early Japonic speaking people of the archipelago and the peninsula. Occasionally we find it as 大倭 (Great Yamato), which I suspect is in imitation of the continental practice, where you have the 大唐帝国 (Great Tang) and later the Great Yuan (大元) and the Great Ming (大明), though how it was used and when it started to be used various polity’s names I’m not sure. Interesting side note, there is a “Great Qin” (大秦) used from the time of the Han until the Tang, but it actually refers to Rome and not to the Qin state.

Regardless, the 倭 (Wa) character eventually is swapped out for the less derogatory character for peace (和), which seems to be why Yamato, today, is spelled 大和.

Speaking of imported concepts, the idea of the Heavenly-Stems and Earthly-Branches I mentioned as a time keeping mechanism. Rather than rehashing it here, I recommend you check out this page in the Miscellany. There, we talk about this system and how it applies to time-keeping in general.

This was part of the continental arts that would eventually fall under what became known as the Yin-Yang Bureau, or Onmyō-ryō. It is sometimes associated with Daoism, though this is something of a debate—there are many aspects of continental thought that are found in Daoism that made their way over to the archipelago, but the structures that we would recognize as Daoism (as paradoxical as that statement may seem, to some) really aren’t there. There are thoughts and concepts from traditional practice, and plenty of Sinitic themes show up in the archipelago on imported goods and concepts, but that seems to be it. Still, this system was largely rooted in many of the continent’s scientific concepts, including geomancy and a complex elemental system that is used to describe all sorts of micro and macro interactions in the natural world.

Seimei Shrine in Kyoto, dedicated to perhaps the most famous Yin Yang diviner, or Onmyōji, in Japanese history: Abe no Seimei. Photo by author.

At some point I’ll probably get into this, because it really is fascinating and helps to understand the way that many of the continental thinkers conceived of the natural world around them. There are generative and degenerative cycles, and elements associated with color, direction, and more. It was like a Grand Unified Theory, but going beyond just forces to the very nature of the universe. A common symbol for all of this is the pentagram—a five pointed star, usually in a circle, indicating all the different interactions between the various elements—found at the star’s tips. So no, that is not a satanic symbol on Seimei shrine, thank you very much.

As for the zodiac, it is also found outside of just the temporal realm but also in the spatial. Indeed, if the Rat (子) is North, then Ushitora (丑寅) is northeast, U (卯) is due east, Tatsumi (辰巳) is southeast, etc. Even today, these will sometimes be encountered when discussing directions, rather than the more straight forward North, East, South, West (北東南西) and associated combinations.

Alright, so like any good clickbait article, we need to leave you wanting for more, so next episode we’ll address the possibly real Mimaki Iri-biko, aka Sujin Tennō.

References

Ō, Yasumaro, & Heldt, G. (2014). The Kojiki: An account of ancient matters. ISBN978-0-231-16389-7

Bentley, John. (2006). The Authenticity of Sendai Kuji Hongi: a New Examination of Texts, with a Translation and Commentary. ISBN-90-04-152253
Chamberlain, B. H. (1981). The Kojiki: Records of ancient matters. Rutland, Vt: C.E. Tuttle Co. ISBN4-8053-0794-3
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4
Philippi, D. L. (1968). Kojiki. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press. ISBN4-13-087004-1

Episode 26: The Court at Kashihara

October 1, 2020 Joshua Badgley

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So this episode we go into a few different things. First off there is the story of Hime Tatara Isuzu Hime (or possibly Hime Tatara Isukeyori Hime), Iware Biko’s queen and the mother of the next sovereign. Then there are the members of the court, such as Umashimaji no Sukune.

Of course the court at Kashihara is fantastical, but it still tells us something. The rituals, the ranks, and more—all of it is helpful for understanding the Chronicles—at least some of the later stories.

On the subject of ranks: The kabane system is something we’ll definitely need to get into at some point, but essentially it was a ranking system for families, more than the individual. There are more ranks than are mentioned here, and it really does deserve its own topic at some point, but I’d encourage listeners to look into it, it really is fascinating.

As for what we actually know about the early Kingship? Well, we get to that with the kofun. Kishimoto Naofumi’s paper is linked below if you’d like to read it for yourself.

Drawing of what an artist thought Jimmu’s ascension ceremony may have looked like with a postcard claiming to be Yamato Shrine inset.

References

Ō, Yasumaro, & Heldt, G. (2014). The Kojiki: An account of ancient matters. ISBN978-0-231-16389-7

Kishimoto, Naofumi (2013). Dual Kingship in the Kofun Period as Seen from the Keyhole Tombs. UrbanScope: e-Journal of the Urban-Culture Research Center, OCU. http://urbanscope.lit.osaka-cu.ac.jp/journal/pdf/vol004/01-kishimoto.pdf
Bentley, John. (2006). The Authenticity of Sendai Kuji Hongi: a New Examination of Texts, with a Translation and Commentary. ISBN-90-04-152253
Chamberlain, B. H. (1981). The Kojiki: Records of ancient matters. Rutland, Vt: C.E. Tuttle Co. ISBN4-8053-0794-3
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4
Philippi, D. L. (1968). Kojiki. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press. ISBN4-13-087004-1

Episode 25: The Heavenly Grandson on the March!

September 16, 2020 Joshua Badgley

Jimmu Tennō, aka Iware Biko, subduing the forces of Nagasune Biko through the shining brilliance of the kite (a type of bird) that came down from Heaven.

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So here we go! We are finally into the so-called “historical” portion of the Chronicles. This episode we follow the story of the legendary first sovereign of Yamato. Known to history as Jimmu Tennō (神武天皇) , that is a posthumous name, and the chronicles give us another name: Toyo Mikenu no Mikoto, aka Kamu Yamato Iware Biko no Mikoto. I know, it is a mouthful.

Language

I think this would be a good place to talk about a few things about names, titles, and the Japanese language—particularly the language in the chronicles. One of the problems working on the podcast is choosing just how to translate—or perhaps transliterate—the names and terms therein. We talked about this a little bit when we discussed language some episodes back, and I’ve mentioned the choice to use Himiko rather than Pimiko, even though the later is likely closer to the usage at the time.

In the Chronicles, they were also using Chinese characters in a combination of ways where they were sometimes used for meaning, but other times just for their sound to approximate Japanese words. The study of Old Japanese is a whole discipline that is extremely fascinating, but for the purposes of this podcasts, we’re going to try to keep it light. So we’ll just hit on some of the barest things you should know.

So first off, let’s talk about something called “rendaku”. This is the common practice of taking an unvoiced consonant and changing it to a voiced consonant. There is a good article about it on Tofugu: RENDAKU: WHY HITO-BITO ISN'T HITO-HITO

This has already shown up in some of the names and titles we have encountered—most notably “Hiko” (彦) and “Hime” (姫) (Prince and Princess, respectively), which are sometimes found as “Biko” or “Bime”, at least in modern pronunciation, so just realize that those are the same titles.

In addition, it is important to realize that Old Japanese had Perhaps most important is the “H” sound. Today, in modern Japanese, this is usually encountered as “Ha Hi Fu He Ho”, but it can transform into “P” or “B” as shown below.

This is the only consonant that has three different forms—most simply have two, an unvoiced and a voiced form. But these three forms come from the fact that in the past there appear to have been just two—the “P” and “B” (and we aren’t even getting into some of the different distinctions in vowels).

The history behind this comes from the fact that the original sound was something like “P”, with a voiced sound of “B”. Over time, this “P” changed to something more like “F” (an unvoiced bilabial fricative still found in the character “FU”), then settled on “H”, with a few exceptions. We mention in the podcast how IPA became IFA/IHA and then IWA (岩). Similarly we have KAPA to KAFA/KAHA and then KAWA (川).

In addition, there is one other place were “P” changed into something else—often times being dropped altogether. Most notably is in various diphthongs and long vowels:

· “API”->”AF/HI” ->”AI”

· “APU”->”AFU”->”AU”

· “OPU”-> “OFU”->”OU”

· “OPO”->”OF/HO”->”OO”

So Ōkuninushi is more like Opokuninusi, and Amaterasu Ōkami is Amaterasu Opokami.

And, as I said, this doesn’t even get into the various vowels—where today there are only 5 vowels used in Japanese there appear to have been others used in early Japanese, but over time they were reduced to just those used today.

So that’s a little bit on the language.

The other part of the names, if you haven’t noticed, is that more often then not they appear to be titles. So “Iware Biko” is actually more like “Prince of Iware”—and it is telling, I think that “Iware” is a place in the Yamato basin. In fact, it is occupied by Shiki the Elder and Shiki the Younger when Iware Biko first arrives. Other names, like Usa-tsu-Hiko and Usa-tsu-Hime are the Prince and Prince (or male and female lord) of Usa. “Tsu” was often used as a possessive, similar to “No” in modern Japanese. So “Usa no Hiko” and “Usa no Hime” would be a way of thinking of them. By which it becomes clear that these are simply titles, and not “names” as we would think of them. This could be the name of any Lord or Lady of Usa.

This is not necessarily something that gets easier. While we do get names that are more properly names as we would think of them, Japanese writings regularly refer to someone by their title—possibly with a family name—or some other epithet. Examples of this include the famous Tomoe Gozen, Murasaki Shikibu, and Sei Shōnagon—women being the most common victims since their names are rarely recorded and so we often only have titles to go on. But even the famous “Shōtoku Taishi”, if he existed, is most commonly referenced by a title, not his name. And most of the sovereigns would be referenced as the sovereign of such-and-such palace, rather than any kind of actual name. In much of these stories, we seem to have those kinds of names, with the odd apparent exception, like “Nagasune Biko”, which can basically be translated as something like “Prince Longshanks”. But then he is also called Tōmi Biko—The Prince (of) Tōmi.

Geography

In the last podcast we talked a bit about the geography of the Nara Basin and a few of the places there. And I believe you can check on most of them. From Southern Kyushu you can find Usa, and then on to Aki (~Hiroshima Prefecture) and then on to Kibi (Okayama). Then Naniwa is an old name for Ōsaka, except here we come to a bit of an oddity. You see, back in the Kofun and Yayoi period, the area of most of Ōsaka was actually under water. Over time, these areas appear to have silted up, forming dry land (and then Ōsaka itself grew, building out into the bay). In the old days, though, there was a shallow bay—known as Kawachi Bay—that was actually nestled up along the edge of the mountains on the western edge of the Nara basin.

Rough approximation of t he extent of Kawachi Bay in ancient times.

So you can get an idea of just how the story unfolds—pulling straight up to the shoreline at the foot of the mountains and trying to make their way through. Note that this isn’t something explicitly mentioned in the Chronicles, but we have evidence of the ancient shoreline and it does provide some context for the stories.

Korean “sun crow” print (modern), from the author’s collection.

Yatagarasu - The Sun Crow

The sun crow is another great image from this passage—though the Chronicles really seem to focus more on its size than the other features by which it is better known. Nonetheless, at least in the eyes of later readers, the Yatagarasu would become an important symbol of the sun and of Japan itself.

Technically “Yatagarasu” just means the Great Crow, possibly indicating that it was of great size. “Yata-” is used similarly for other large or impressive items. More often, though, it isn’t its size which is its distinctive feature, but its three legs. This appears to come from the mainland, where the idea of the Yang Wu, or Sun Crow, has been around for some time.

Large sculpture in the shape of the gold foil “sun bird” disk, showing the fiery design. Photo by author.

Early on, for instance, we see a sun-bird disk coming out of the Jinsha ruins near modern Chengdu. The site flourished around the 10th century BCE, and the culture is generally assigned dates of 1200-650 BCE. Here they found numerous images of birds in disks, including a gold foil disk with four birds that appears to represent the sun. There is no clear indication of what these birds are, and they appear to have the proper number of legs. It could just be coincidence that they are birds in a sun disk, but it does seem similar to what we see later on. Of course, the birds could be some other bird than a crow—perhaps chickens or roosters, crowing at the sun, or something similar. They certainly appear to have long legs and necks, which could indicate some kind of crane or heron, but who knows?

From a Western Han tomb in Mawangdui there came a remarkably intact painted cloth covering for a coffin. The painting shows various symbols, including both a sun and a moon. The moon has a toad, but the sun has a black bird—likely a crow of some kind. Here we clearly see this bird in the sun, but it still only has the normal two legs. It could possibly be something else, but certainly feels like a crow, to me.

Detail of image from Wikimedia Commons that is labeled as being in the public domain.

And then, by at least the Tang dynasty (618-907), we see the three legged crow in the sun. Paintings of this three legged crow are seen in Tang dynasty tombs, along with pictures of the moon and other celestial objects.

Three-legged crow in a sun disk in a Tang Dynasty tomb. Photo by author.

It is not unreasonable to assume that the Japanese picked up on the three-legged crow from Chinese sources, likely filtered through the lens of the Korean Peninsula. Given the Wa people and their obsession with the sun, it seems only natural that they would find a use for the imagery. That said, whether or not there was some other legendary beast called Yatagarasu that was then conflated with Yang Wu, I could not say.

References

· Ō, Yasumaro, & Heldt, G. (2014). The Kojiki: An account of ancient matters. ISBN978-0-231-16389-7

· Bentley, John. (2006). The Authenticity of Sendai Kuji Hongi: a New Examination of Texts, with a Translation and Commentary. ISBN-90-04-152253

· Chamberlain, B. H. (1981). The Kojiki: Records of ancient matters. Rutland, Vt: C.E. Tuttle Co. ISBN4-8053-0794-3

· Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4

· Philippi, D. L. (1968). Kojiki. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press. ISBN4-13-087004-1

Episode 24: The OTHER Heavenly Grandson

September 1, 2020 Joshua Badgley

An apparent drawing of Nigi Hayahi no Mikoto, attribution unknown.

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I am so glad that we are here, and I can think of no better episode for our one year anniversary. This has been a journey for me, and thank you for coming along together. One of the things I really enjoy is finding little tidbits that I never realized before I started digging into the material. So thank you for giving me that opportunity.

Now, truth be told, I actually debated talking about this one during the episode on Ninigi no Mikoto, but I thought it fit better here. We are about to get into Ihare Hiko (or Ihare Biko) and his march east to take the throne in Yamato, and so before we get there, I want to introduce you to something that, admittedly, blew my mind when I first encountered it in the Kujiki. I had no idea that there was a story out there of any other legacy descending from Takami Musubi no Mikoto and Amaterasu no Ōmikami, let alone an elder brother, but that’s just what we have.

Now, there are still some things that I am wondering about, and so rather than get into every little question in the podcast—which is long enough as it is, I thought I’d lay them out here, for those who care to read.

One of them is a minor one, and that is in the list of the 10 Heavenly Symbols given to Nigi Hayahi is the jewel of the “foot”. This seems rather incongruous with some of the other things. So let’s take a look:

The Mirror of the Ocean
The Mirror of the Shore
The Sword of Great Length
The Jewel of Life
The Jewel of Resurrection
The Jewel of the Foot
The Jewel of Return
The Cloth of the Serpent
The Cloth of Various Things

2 mirrors, 1 sword, 4 jewels, and 2 cloths

The mirrors seem to have a theme—ocean and shore. Both possibly related to something like the moon, another round, mirror-like object in the sky, and of course you also find mirrors with water themes, so that could play a part. I think the sword being of “great length” hardly needs interpretation. The Cloth of the Serpent could come from a design or could possibly refer to something else—serpents are often associated with the god of Mt. Miwa, and there are connections between snakes shedding their skin and rebirth, so maybe it has something to do with that—I’m not sure. The cloth of the various things might just be a catchall, or it may have referred to a garment with various designs embroidered on it. I’m put in mind of the royal regalia used for certain ceremonies, consisting of a wide-sleeved red robe with various embroidered designs as well as a red harami, or wrapped skirt, based, one assumes, on the ancient clothing styles of China.

In the jewels we have Life and Resurrection—those seem to go together—and then we have “Foot” and “Return”. I could see “Return” similar to “Resurrection”, but what does a foot have to do with anything? It could possibly refer to travel, I guess? But I also wonder if it refers, in some way, to sufficiency. The kanji “足“ can certainly refer to both in a modern context, but I’m not quite sure how it would have been viewed at the time.

(Of course, I still want to see all of these kitted out as proper DnD magic items—it feels like they would totally fit in one way or another)

Another thing that I’m still not quite clear on is the geography. I want to get into this more next episode, when we talk about Ihare Hiko’s invasion and conquest of Yamato, but the locations are interesting. There really isn’t an “Ikaruga Mountain” that I could find as such, but the chronicle claims it was in Kawachi Province. But Kawachi is typically identified as being on the western side of the mountains between Yamato (modern Nara Prefecture) and modern Osaka. I can think of several things going on here.

First, Ikaruga may not have been anywhere near the Ikaruga we know. Heck, it may not even have been in Japan, initially. It may have been a name imported from the Korean peninsula, for all we know, imported with the story, perhaps, and then “discovered” in approximately the right area later. That still doesn’t explain why they say it is in Kawachi—it would seem that Ikaruga is in the area of Yamato no Kuni. It is possible that Kawachi province extended that far up the Yamato River, but it seems a bit of a head-scratcher.

It may be that it had to be in Kawachi for other reasons—namely the connection with the Mononobe clan, who is clearly connected to Nigi Hayahi. However, I also wonder if there isn’t a more practical explanation: They say that Nigi Hayahi and his retinue arrived at Ikaruga peak in a “Heavenly Rock Boat”. Well, during the Kofun period and into the Asuka and Nara, Ōsaka looked quite different from what it is, today. In fact, most of Ōsaka was apparently under water, part of what is known as Kawachi Bay. The water came right up to the Ikoma mountains, and it may be that Kawachi was actually made up of those mountains and a little inland—maybe it did reach to Ikaruga, or maybe that was just an indication of someone arriving by an actual physical boat.

Now this is all conjecture. I’m sure there are others who’ve looked into this, and I am only doing a fairly light overview of all of this. If you have theories or if you’ve looked into it yourself, I encourage you to share!

References

Ō, Yasumaro, & Heldt, G. (2014). The Kojiki: An account of ancient matters. ISBN978-0-231-16389-7
Bentley, John. (2006). The Authenticity of Sendai Kuji Hongi: a New Examination of Texts, with a Translation and Commentary. ISBN-90-04-152253
Chamberlain, B. H. (1981). The Kojiki: Records of ancient matters. Rutland, Vt: C.E. Tuttle Co. ISBN4-8053-0794-3
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4
Philippi, D. L. (1968). Kojiki. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press. ISBN4-13-087004-1

Episode 23: Heavenly Princes Behaving Badly

August 16, 2020 Joshua Badgley

Hiko Hohodemi and his son, from an early 20th century painting of the Meiji Emperor and various members of the Heavenly line. He appears to be holding a fishing line and what one might assume to be a jewel.

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This episode, we continue with the earthly lives of the Heavenly Descendants, and forgive me for saying this, but they really aren’t great people. Their most redeeming quality appears to be their connection back to Amaterasu and Takumi Musubi, and that’s about it. They aren’t really great husbands, and we get no information on their parenting skills. And their behavior is not necessarily something to model. But these are thought to be the revered ancestors of the royal line.

Of course, as they mess up, they seem to have a family trait of reciting poetry to try to win back the women in their lives. We didn’t include them in the episode, but here you can have a look at them, or at least some translations.

Poem by Ninigi when Atatsu Hime would not speak to him:

憶企都茂幡。
陛爾幡譽戻耐母。
佐禰耐據茂。
阿黨播怒介茂譽。
播磨都智耐理譽。

The sea-weed of the offing—
Though it may reach the shore:
The true couch
Is, alas! impossible.
Ah! ye dotterels of the beach
- from the Nihon Shoki, trans. by Aston

Aston notes that this poem is a regular tanka of 31 syllables, and it would seem to be about the gulf he realized had opened between them. In the original text, you can see how they are using the Chinese characters to represent the sounds, which is where you can see the typical 5-7-5/7-7 meter of a typical tanka.

Konohana Sakuya Hime, besides being associated with Ata and the Hayato, is also believed to be the spirit of Mt. Fuji, and there are numerous shrines to her on the mountain. Photo by author.

Poem by Hiko Hohodemi when Toyotama Hime left and her response:

飫企都鄧利。
軻茂豆句志磨爾。
和我謂禰志。
伊茂播和素邏珥。
譽能據鄧馭鄧母。

Whatever befals me,
Ne’er shall I forget my love
With whom I slept
In the island of wild-ducks—
The birds of the offing.
-from the Nihon Shoki, trans. by Aston

In this tanka, Aston notes that the lines in the translation are almost exactly opposite as those in the translation. So the previous poem in the Nihon Shoki started off with “the sea-weed of the offing” and this starts off with “the birds of the offing.” Order can be tricky in tanka, with some poetic license allowed.

Toyotama Hime then responds:

阿軻娜磨迺。
比訶利播阿利登。
比播伊珮耐。
企弭我譽贈比志。
多輔妬句阿利計利。

Some may boast
Of the splendour
Of red jewels,
But those worn by my Lord—
It is they which are admirable.
- from the Nihon Shoki, trans. by Aston

The response poem is a common trope in Japanese romances. It was typical for a lover to send a poem, or a part of a poem, and for their would-be partner to send a response if there was still interest. In the Nihon Shoki they call these poems “age-uta”, which Aston translates as “complimentary poetry”.

In the Kojiki it is given a little differently, and it is initiated by Toyotama Hime, who sings:

阿加陀麻波。
袁佐閇比迦禮杼。
斯良多麻能。
岐美何余曾比斯。
多布斗久阿理祁理。

Beautiful are the red jewels;
Even their cord seems to sparkle.
But I prefer pearls
For the awesome beauty
Of your pearl-like form
- from the Kojiki, trans. by Donald L. Philippi

Hiko Hohodemi then responds:

意岐都登理。
加毛度久斯麻邇。
和賀韋泥斯。
　伊毛波和須禮士。
余能許登碁登邇。

As long as I have life,
I shall never forget
My beloved, with whom I slept
On an island where wild ducks,
Birds of the offing, came to land.
- from the Kojiki, trans. by Donald L. Philippi

An artist’s depiction of Toyotama Hime. The sea god and his offspring are often believed to be dragons, though the Chronicles specifically refer to her as having the shape of a wani. The association with dragons may be a later, and possibly Chine… — An artist’s depiction of Toyotama Hime. The sea god and his offspring are often believed to be dragons, though the Chronicles specifically refer to her as having the shape of a *wani*. The association with dragons may be a later, and possibly Chinese, influence. On the other hand, we don’t exactly know what a *wani* was, so perhaps a dragon isn’t so far off.

Parturition Huts

As noted in the episode, parturition, or birthing, huts were a thing in various parts of Japan, but they were not universal, and the traditions around them seem to have been very localized. They were used by women going into labor and possibly for other purposes as well. Some appear to have been temporary, and others may have been permanent. They are generally called ubuya, (産屋) though some local words may exist depending on their specific use.

This is the ubuya at Ōbara Jinja (大原神社). The name of this shrine, Ōbara, calls to mind a large stomach or womb (hara), and so it is sought out specifically for pregnancies and birth. Photo from the Fukuchiyama city website. — This is the *ubuya* at Ōbara Jinja (大原神社). The name of this shrine, Ōbara, calls to mind a large stomach or womb (hara), and so it is sought out specifically for pregnancies and birth. Photo from the Fukuchiyama city website.

A hut in Hamamatsu that is said to have served as an ubuya. Photo is in the public domain, and acquired through Wikimedia Commons. — A hut in Hamamatsu that is said to have served as an *ubuya*. Photo is in the public domain, and acquired through Wikimedia Commons.

References

Ō, Yasumaro, & Heldt, G. (2014). The Kojiki: An account of ancient matters. ISBN978-0-231-16389-7
Tonomura, Hitomi (2007). Birth-giving and Avoidance Taboo : Women’s Body versus the Historiography of Ubuya. Nichibunken Japan review : journal of the International Research Center for Japanese Studies, vol. 19, pp 3-45. http://doi.org/10.15055/00000227
Bentley, John. (2006). The Authenticity of Sendai Kuji Hongi: a New Examination of Texts, with a Translation and Commentary. ISBN-90-04-152253
Chamberlain, B. H. (1981). The Kojiki: Records of ancient matters. Rutland, Vt: C.E. Tuttle Co. ISBN4-8053-0794-3
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4
Philippi, D. L. (1968). Kojiki. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press. ISBN4-13-087004-1

Episode 22: Descent of the Heavenly Grandchild

August 1, 2020 Joshua Badgley

Image of Hiko Hono Ninigi no Mikoto, the Heavenly Grandchild dressed in an artist’s interpretation of late Yayoi or Kofun garments and carrying the Three Regalia: the jewels, the mirror, and the sword. Photo in the Public Domain per Wikimedia Commo… — Image of Hiko Hono Ninigi no Mikoto, the Heavenly Grandchild dressed in an artist’s interpretation of late Yayoi or Kofun garments and carrying the Three Regalia: the jewels, the mirror, and the sword. Photo in the Public Domain per Wikimedia Commons.

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So this episode we see the descent of the Divine Descendant, but surprisingly it isn’t Oshihomimi, for all the setup in the previous stories. No, this is the Heavenly Prince Hiko Hono-Ninigi no Mikoto. Ninigi is the Heavenly Grandchild, descendant of not just Amaterasu but also of Takami Musubi, and he is the ancestor of the royal line of Yamato sovereigns—though not, curiously, considered the first sovereign himself. That would be reserved for a later descendant known in the 8th century as Jimmu.

Ame no Uzume confronting Saruta Hiko at the crossroads between Heaven and Earth. Photo in the public domain per Wikimedia Commons.

Of course before he descends he does have to deal with one small inconvenience in the form of Saruta Hiko, a tall, shining deity with a long nose, red eyes, and a curious light that shone out all over. He was confronted and discovered by Ame no Uzume, the dancing goddess who had lured Amaterasu out of her cave. Together, they end up in Ise, and today they reside together at Tsubaki Grand Shrine, north of the famous Ise Shrine. They were also considered the ancestors of the Sarume clan, the lords of whom were women, and whose dances, or kagura, are still performed in shrines throughout Japan.

Entrance to the main shrine of Tsubaki Grand Shrine of America. Photo by author.

And if you can’t go all the way to Japan, you can still visit them in North America outside of Seattle Washington at the Tsubaki Grand Shrine of America. Here, in a lovely area of woods, water, and mountains you can discover the sacred kami who helped guide Ninigi down to earth and Ame no Uzume, who became his attendant after she had discovered him. If you want to learn more you can follow them on Facebook and Social Media. The shrine is open to anyone and I highly encourage people to visit. The location is incredibly serene, and they also teach Aikido, an art that is likewise connected to Saruta Hiko through its founder, Ueshiba Morihei.

Western Japan to Southern Kyushu, showing the approximate locations of the provinces of Ise, Yamato, Izumo, and Himuka.

After meeting with Saruta Hiko, Ninigi and his crew all head down to earth. But they don’t end up in Yamato or Izumo, where one would expect. Rather, they find themselves in Himuka—modern Miyazaki Province—and settle in southern Kyushu. Interestingly, this is the home of the Kumaso and the Hayato people. The Kumaso were eventually defeated, and the Hayato, who may or may not be related, were considered an independent people, much as were the Emishi of the northeast. Even by the 8th century they are still considered a separate ethnic group, even though we have yet to find a significant genetic difference between the people of Southern Kyushu and the rest of the archipelago, while the people of northeastern Japan appear to have remained more closely related to their Jomon forebears.

Cherry blossoms—sakura no hana—in bloom. Photo by author.

And of course, there, in Kasasa Bay, near the Ata chiefdom, is where he sets up his palace and eventually married the lady Konohana Sakuya Hime. But of course, even back then, the life of a blossoming flower was ephemeral, and such a marriage would have consequences ever after, echoing through history.

References

Saruta Hiko Ōkami. Work in the Public Domain per Wikimedia Commons

Ō, Yasumaro, & Heldt, G. (2014). The Kojiki: An account of ancient matters. ISBN978-0-231-16389-7
Aoki, Michiko Yamaguchi (1997). Izumo Fudoki. Association for Asian Studies. Published by the Japanese Historical Text Initiative of the University of California at Berkeley at https://jhti.berkeley.edu/NIJL%20gateway.html
Matsumae, Takeshi (1983). The Myth of the Descent of the Heavenly Grandson. Asian Folklore Studies, Vol. 42. https://nirc.nanzan-u.ac.jp/nfile/1211
Chamberlain, B. H. (1981). The Kojiki: Records of ancient matters. Rutland, Vt: C.E. Tuttle Co. ISBN4-8053-0794-3
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4
Philippi, D. L. (1968). Kojiki. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press. ISBN4-13-087004-1

は	HA	ば	BA	ぱ	PA
ひ	HI	び	BI	ぴ	PI
ふ	FU	ぶ	BU	ぷ	PU
へ	HE	べ	BE	ぺ	PE
ほ	HO	ぼ	BO	ぽ	PO