Asian and African studies blog

Exquisite patterns: Japanese Textile Design Books, a new exhibition of images from the British Library’s Japanese collection, runs from 14 February to 17 May 2020 in the Library’s Second Floor Gallery. In the first of a series of blog posts, curator Hamish Todd introduces the exhibition and some of the highlights.

Furuya Kōrin 古谷紅麟, Shasei sōka moyō 写生草花模様. Unsōdō, Kyoto, 1907. British Library, ORB.30/132

With the help of a grant from the Great Britain Sasakawa Foundation, the British Library is digitising its collection of Japanese pattern books and making these available online. This exhibition of selected images has been created to display the variety and vibrancy of these works, from their origins in the mid-17th century until the early 20th century.

Textiles and in particular the kimono in its various forms, have been a focus for artistic creativity in Japan for centuries. Following decades of civil war, the Edo Period (1603-1868) saw the re-establishment of peace and stable government under the Tokugawa shogunate. As the economy prospered, large urban populations developed in Kyoto, Edo (Tokyo) and Osaka. Alongside the Imperial Court and aristocracy in Kyoto, the samurai and increasingly prosperous merchant classes of Edo formed a sophisticated, fashion-conscious audience and many aspects of Japanese culture, notably the arts and crafts, flourished.

The desire among the fashionable for variety and novelty led to the publication of the first pattern books, hinagata-bon 雛形本, in the 1660s. These early works were printed using traditional woodblock technology in black and white, but often included notes describing the intended colour and type of fabric. They were practical in nature, serving as manuals for textile designers and kimono merchants, or fashion magazines and catalogues for the discerning customer.

 
The first kimono pattern book. Shinsen o-hiinagata 新撰御ひいながた by Asai Ryōi 浅井了意. British Library, Or.74.cc.8. On the left a pattern of chrysanthemums and on the right, printed in red, the characters representing the names of the animals of the Chinese zodiac.

Shinsen o-hiinagata 新撰御ひいながた’A New Selection of Patterns’, the first pattern book, was published in 1666. Initially printed solely in black and white, the following year another edition, shown here, appeared with some pages also printed in single colours of blue, green or red. Early pattern books normally depict the kosode (forerunner of the modern kimono) in a T-shape with the back and sleeves forming the focus of the striking designs.

This novel type of publication proved very popular and new titles appeared in quick succession as publishers sought to capitalise on the new trends. Textile designers and artists drew inspiration from a wide range of sources, notably, the natural world, folklore, history, signs of the zodiac, auspicious symbols and the written word.

For example, in this design, a carp fights its way up a powerful waterfall, a popular symbol of energy and determination drawn from a Chinese legend in which a carp crossed the Dragon Gate rapids on the Yellow River and turned into a dragon.

‘Dragon Gate Waterfall’ 龍門乃滝, from Tōsei somegumi hinagata hagi no 当世染組 雛形萩の野. Kyoto, 1741. British Library, ORB.30/4449.

In this design from Shin moyō yaegasumi 新模様八重霞, the artist Kōyōken Charanshi 紅葉軒茶藍子 has depicted a herd of lively horses. Published in 1784, this work brings an added level of sophistication to the pattern book by the addition of delicate hand-colouring and the inclusion of images of the whole design and of a detail.

 
Shin moyō yaegasumi 新模様八重霞. Kyoto, 1784. British Library, ORB.30/8579

Symbols of good fortune and longevity were, and remain, popular motifs for textiles. In Japanese folklore, the crane represents 1,000 years of life, the tortoise 10,000 years. In Tennen hyakkaku 天年百寉 (‘Tennen’s One Hundred Cranes’) Kaigai Tennen, explored the theme with depictions of these auspicious birds in a variety of styles, settings and combinations with other propitious symbols.

A crane from Kaigai Tennen 海外天年, Tennen hyakkaku 天年百寉. Unsōdō, Kyoto, 1901. British Library, ORB.40./964 (vol.3 folio 1)

A crane with a mythological minogame (long-haired tortoise) from Kaigai Tennen 海外天年, Tennen hyakkaku 天年百寉. Unsōdō, Kyoto, 1901. British Library, ORB.40./964 (vol.3 folio 4)

Enterprising kimono merchants were quick to see the potential of pattern books as a means of attracting customers and promoting their wares to a wider clientele. An example is the lavish Kuretake 呉竹, produced in 1902 by Ichida Yaichirō 市田弥一郎, proprietor of the Kyoto kimono emporium Ichida Shoten. It includes 120 spectacular designs as well as 47 textile samples from which clients could choose their preferred colours and fabrics.

Design for a haori (short jacket) incorporating animals of the Chinese zodiac. From Kuretake 呉竹. Kyoto, 1902. British Library, ORB.40/1208

Fabric samples from Kuretake 呉竹. Kyoto, 1902. British Library, ORB.40/1208

The British Library collection also contains a slightly more ‘homespun’ version of this sort of ‘catalogue’. It is in the form of a scrapbook into which paper cutouts of kimono designs have been pasted. Some of these are reminiscent of the clothes made for Japanese paper dolls (anesama ningyō 姉様人形 ‘big sister dolls’).

A design for a furisode (‘swinging sleeves’). From an untitled scrapbook, c. 1890-1900. British Library, Or.16979

As colour-printing became more sophisticated, so did pattern books. By the late 19th century publishers, led by Kyoto-based Unsōdō and Unkindō, were collaborating with talented artists, among them Kamisaka Sekka, Furuya Kōrin and Tsuda Seifū, to produce superb design albums or zuan-chō 図案帳. While some of these were meant as source books for artisans, others were conceived as beautiful objects to be enjoyed for their own sake. We will look at these later works in the following blog.

Further reading:
Hillier, Jack, The Art of the Japanese Book. London: Sotheby’s, 1987.
Jackson, Anna (ed.), Kimono: The Art and Evolution of Japanese Fashion. London: Thames & Hudson, 2015.
Johnson, Scott, Zuan Pattern Books: The Glory Years. Andon, 2015, 100.
Milhaupt, Terry Satsuki, Kimono: A Modern History. London: Reaktion Books, 2014.

Hamish Todd, Head of East Asian collections

In this guest post, Dr Pia Maria Jolliffe, who teaches Japanese history at the University of Oxford, and Mahli Knutson, a student of International Politics and Economics at Middlebury College, Vermont, investigate whether a mysterious image recently acquired by the British Library was really an original item used to test the faith of Japanese Christians during the Tokugawa period (1603-1867).

Kami fumi-e, which claims to date from mid-Genroku era (i.e around 1697). British Library, ORB.40/1061

The image in the British Library was sold as a kami fumi-e, or paper image made to be trampled on, supposedly used in the systemic persecution of Christians stemming from Tokugawa Ieyasu’s 1614 anti-Christian edict. Indeed, from around 1634 onwards men, women, girls and boys were required to gather for annual ceremonies in which they were asked to trample (fumu) on images (e) depicting the Passion of Jesus Christ. Even the sick and bedridden had to commit this act of blasphemy and images were carried into their homes (Kataoka 2014: 48; Marega 1939: 281, 285). In this way, the authorities hoped to identify Christians who were supposed to refuse to blaspheme against what is considered most holy in their faith.

The material of these images changed over time. Whilst the images preserved today are mostly made of brass, there also existed images with wooden frames and some made of paper (Yasutaka 2018: 242). The image recently acquired by the British Library claims to be one such paper image from the mid-Genroku era (i.e. around 1697). Many other versions of this image exist in places such as at the Ricci Institute for Chinese-Western Cultural History at the University of San Franscisco*, at the 26 Martyrs Museum in Nagasaki and at Seinan Daigakuin Museum in Fukuoka, as shown below.

Image at the Ricci Institute (San Francisco), no shelf-mark, claims to be from Tenmei Gannen (1781) (Courtesy of the Ricci Institute for Chinese-Western Cultural History, University of San Francisco)

Image 26 Martyrs Museum (Nagasaki), no shelf mark, claims to be from the year Keian Kōin (1650) (permission granted by Domenico Vitali SJ, director of the Museum)

Although the item now in the British Library claims to be from the mid Genroku era, there are good reasons to assume it is a replica from a later period. Indeed, Japanese scholars who have analysed the phenomenon of paper fumi-e suggest that it is difficult today to distinguish “real” copies (produced during the Tokugawa period) from fake copies (produced after the ban on Christianity was lifted in 1873). For example, Kataoka discussed the occurence of such images as long ago as 1979. He noted that he saw different versions of these image at three different times. At one point, in 1965, even in the house of the Kiyama family whose ancestors were village headmen (shōya). Kataoka (2014: 41) provides an image of the house and notes that the then head of family told him that the image has belonged to the household ever since it was created (monogokoro tsuita koro). Because fumi-e procedures happened in the Kiyama household, one supposes that the paper image with a male head on a cross had been used as a kami fumi-e. More recently, Yasutaka (2018) also commented on the occurrence of this image. In his view most of these images are reproductions that have either been made in the Edo Period itself or afterwards to satisfy the demand for “Kirishitan” objects in a so-called Kirishitan boom. Moreover, there are replica that have been produced for contemporary museums (Yasutaka 2018: 241-242). For example, the museum of Seinan Gakuin University holds such a replica (shown below) which was supposedly reproduced in the Meiji period as a souvenir for foreigners. In a comment on this piece, Mr Churei of the Seinan-Gakuin Museum, suggests that it is quite unlikely people during the Tokugawa period were asked to trample on paper showing the kamon (emblem) of the influential Kuroda family (Churei 2017). This comment is also relevant to the image obtained by the British Library which also shows the emblem of the Kuroda family.

Image at the Seinan Gakuin University Museum (Fukuoka), claims to be from Bunsei Gannen (1818), shelfmark N-b-005 (permission granted by Shimozono Tomoya, curator of the Museum)

The second mystery of this image lies in whether it is a fumi-e at all. Indeed, there is the possibility that these images may not have been used as fumi-e. Instead, they are likely to depict the severed head of a Dutchman who refused to “trample on” (or object to?) Christian priests. How did we get this idea?

First of all, the text on the right hand side suggests this. Here, above the kamon of the Kuroda family, we can read:　黒田家の定一切支丹破天連ヲ踏マザル者ハ獄門ノ事 (Kuroda-ke no sadame (jō). Hitotsu Kirishitan Bateren wo fumazaru mono ha gokumon no koto) which can literally be translated as “1. Decree of the Kuroda family: Those who don't trample on the Christian bateren will be punished by gokumon [exposure of the severed head for several days”.

Gokumon (“gate of the gaol”) was a punishment that consisted of the public exposure of a severed head. Before the 17th century, a severed head was sometimes hung above gaols. During the Tokugawa period, however, the severed heads of those sentenced to gokumon were taken from the gaol (where the beheading took place) to an official execution ground. There, the severed heads were left on a stand for a couple of days, as a kind of humiliation beyond death, as shown in the illustration below.

Gokumon in Keibatsu Dai Hiroku 刑罪大秘録. (1836). National Diet Library, B150 K34-1

It is also noteworthy that this punishment was more common than burning at stake or crucifixion which were two severe punishments for Christians (Botsman 2005: 20). Is it likely that the image of the British Library is about a Dutchman who was sentenced to gokumon for not trampling on (or opposing) Christian priests?

Why do we think it may be the depiction of a Dutchman? It is the red curly hair of the depicted person that makes us wonder whether it is a Dutch person’s head that is depicted here. During the Tokugawa period, Dutch people were generally referred to as kōmō jin (紅毛人, red -haired people) and Edo popular literature accordingly portrayed Dutch men with curly red hair.

A Dutchman: Orandabanashi 紅毛談 (1765). Waseda University Library, Bunko 08 C0200

In sum, through the acquisition of this doubly mysterious item, the British Library has joined the community of other institutions that hold images of this kind. Whether these are “real” Tokugawa period or “fake” Meiji period kami fumi-e images is an interesting question and the answers give different but nonetheless fascinating information about the history of Christianity in Japan. Likewise, interpreting the images as depictions of a Dutchman who was punished for not being in opposition to Christian priests opens up a series of new questions.

References
Botsman, Daniel (2005) Punishment and Power in the Making of Modern Japan. Princeton and Oxford: Princeton University Press.
Churei, Shōji (2017) “Kami fumi-e” Seinan Gakuin University Museum News 3.
Gotō Godōan (1765) Orandabanashi vol. 1.
Keibatsu Dai Hiroku (1836).
Kataoka, Yakichi (2014) Fumi-e, Kakure Kirishitan. Tokyo: Tomo Shobō.
Marega, Mario (1939) “E-fumi” Monumenta Nipponica, 2/1, pp. 281-286
Yasutaka Hiroaki (2018) Fumie o funda kirishitan. Tokyo: Yoshikawa Kōbunkan.

Pia Maria Jolliffe (University of Oxford) and Mahli Knutson (Middlebury College)

We are very grateful to Alessandro Bianchi, Hanaoka Kiyoko, Miyata Kazuo and Hamish Todd for commenting on earlier drafts of this paper.

* Since 2022 the Ricci Institute for Chinese-Western Cultural History has been housed at Boston College.

Edited 26 May 2022.

One of the most important items in the British Library’s Japanese collections is a small, rather ordinary-looking, leather-bound volume, generally known as Feiqe monogatari (BL shelfmark Or.59.aa.1). Despite its appearance, it is, in fact, a remarkable work in a number of ways. Firstly, it was one of the earliest books printed in Japan using movable type rather than the traditional woodblocks, secondly, it is the first non-religious text printed in colloquial Japanese transcribed into the Roman alphabet, offering valuable insights into the phonology of the Japanese language in the 16^th century, and thirdly, it is the world’s only extant copy.

Now, thanks to a collaborative project between the British Library and the National Institute for Japanese Language and Linguistics (NINJAL), Tokyo, a fully digitised version of this unique work is available online along with transcriptions, as part of NINJAL’s  Corpus of Historical Japanese, Muromachi Period Series II : Christian Materials.  In addition to a full set of images, NINJAL has also provided transcriptions of the Romanised text and in mixed Japanese kanji/kana script.

The book contains three different texts bound together: Feiqe monogatari a version of the Heike monogatari 平家物語 or Tale of the Heike, a famous medieval epic about the rivalry between the Taira and Minamoto clans, Esopo no fabulas the first Japanese translation of Aesop's Fables, and an anthology of maxims, drawn from Chinese classics, called the Qincvxv (Kinkūshū 金句集).

First page of Feiqe monogatari (Or 59.aa.1, p.3)

First page of Esopo no fabulas (Or 59.aa.1, p.408d)

First page of Qinquxu (Or 59.aa.1, p.507)

All three were printed on the Japanese island of Amakusa by Jesuit missionaries using a movable-type printing press in late 1592/early 1593. Feiqe monogatari has a preface dated 10 December 1592, the title page of Esopo no fabulas is dated 1593 and a general preface added at the front of  the volume was completed on 23 February 1593.

The three texts are accompanied by a printed glossary of ‘words difficult to determine’ (funbetsv xinicuqi cotoba) found in Feiqe monogatari and Esopo no fabulas.  At the end of the book is a handwritten Japanese-Portuguese vocabulary.

Handwritten Japanese-Portuguese dictionary (Or.59.aa.1, p.597)

From the preface of Feiqe monogatari we know that it was the work of the Christian convert - and later apostate - Fabian Fucan (Fukansai 不干斎, c. 1565–1621). Fabian was baptised in 1583 and joined the Jesuits in 1586, teaching Japanese to missionaries in the Jesuit College in Amakusa. He later rejected Christianity and in 1620 published the anti-Christian tract Deus Destroyed (Ha-Daiusu 破提宇子).

When the first Christian missionaries arrived in Japan in the 1540s they immediately set themselves to learning the Japanese language. Their aim, of course, was to convert the population to Christianity and to do this they needed to be able to communicate its teachings in the local language. They made rapid progress and with the help of Japanese converts, soon began translating Christian texts into Japanese. To assist with their work, Alessandro Valignano, head of the Jesuit Mission in East Asia, had a movable-type printing press brought from Portugal. It reached Japan via Goa in July 1590 and was set up at the Jesuit College in Kazusa 加津佐, on the Shimabara Peninsula, where the first work, a life of the apostles and saints entitled Sanctos no gosagyveono vchi nvqigaqi (Sanctos no go-sagyō no uchi nukigaki サントスの御作業の内抜書), was printed in 1591. Shortly afterwards, in the face of official persecution, the College and press were moved to the more remote and safer location of Amakusa 天草 where printing resumed in 1592. The College on Amakusa was suppressed by the Japanese authorities in 1597 so the Jesuits moved again, this time to Nagasaki, taking the press with them and books continued to be printed there from 1598 to 1611.

The books produced by the Jesuit Mission Press in Japan between 1591 and 1611, almost exclusively religious in content, are known collectively in Japanese as Kirishitan-ban or “Christian publications”. The majority were translations of Christian texts widely read in Europe such as Doctrina Christaã, Guía de pecadores and parts of Introducción del símbolo de la fe, in some cases adapted to the Japanese context with additional explanations or omission of doctrines which might have provoked controversy.

The Japanese authorities increasingly came to regard Christianity as subversive and, following a series of repressive measures, it was eventually suppressed and all remaining missionaries expelled from Japan in 1639.

The precise number of Kirishitan-ban titles printed in Japan is not certain.  With the suppression of Christianity and the destruction of images and artefacts connected with it, most of the Jesuit printings were lost.  In his pioneering work The Jesuit Mission Press in Japan, 1591–1610 published in 1888, Sir Ernest Satow identified 14 titles. Kirishitan Bunko: A Manual of Books and Documents on the Early Christian Mission in Japan (1940) by Johannes Laures, identifies 30 books published by the Jesuit Mission Press but this includes 5 printed in Macao, Goa or Manila. A more recent publication, Kirishitan to Shuppan (2013), lists a total of 41 Kirishitan-ban (including 5 fragmentary texts) with 92 extant copies identified worldwide, 7 of them in the British Library.  For the 35 works published in Japan, it lists a total of 72 known copies.

Besides its rarity, Feiqe monogatari is important in that it is a literary rather than a religious text..  It was not intended for the education of Japanese Christians but for the missionaries themselves as an aid to learning the language and to understanding the history and values of the Japanese for whom the warrior code (bushidō), reflected in Heike monogatari, and the Chinese classics represented by Kinkūshū had great significance.

First page of preface to Feiqe monogatari (Or 59.aa.1, ftpr)

The spelling conventions of Portuguese, together with differences in pronunciation of the time, mean that the Romanised texts appear unfamiliar to those used to Hepburn, Kunrei-shiki and other later systems. For example, comparing spellings to the Modified Hepburn transliteration system most widely used today: ‘c’ and ‘q’ are used instead of ‘k’ depending on the following vowel (‘c’ before ‘a,’ ‘o’ or ‘u’, ‘q’ before ‘e’ and ‘i’), while ‘x’ represents ‘sh’ before ‘’i’ and, unlike modern standard Japanese, also before ‘e’. The letter ‘v’ can represent either the vowel ‘u’ or the semivowel ‘w’. The bilabial fricative sound now Romanised as ‘h’ (or ‘f’ before a ‘u’) is written as ’f’ in all positions, presumably reflecting the pronunciation of the time. ‘tçu’ is the equivalent of ‘ts’. As in Portuguese spelling, ‘u’ is inserted after ‘g’ to maintain a hard sound before ‘e’ or ‘i’.

The opening sentence on the first page reads: Nifon no cotoba to historia uo narai xiran to fossvrv fito to tameni xeva ni yavaragvetarv Feiqe no monogatari [The Tale of the Heike made easy to help those wishing to learn the language and history of Japan] which would be written in Modified Hepburn as Nihon no kotoba to historia o naraishiran to hossuru hito no tame ni sewa ni yawaragetaru Heike no monogari, or in Japanese script as 日本の言葉とhistoria [歴史]を習い知らんと欲する人の為に世話に和らげたる 平家の 物語.

Another interesting aspect of Feiqe monogatari is that while not the oldest, it was the first book in the British Museum/British Library’s Japanese collections. The preliminary pages of the volume bear a succession of shelfmarks and annotations from which it appears that the book was acquired by the eminent collector Sir Hans Sloane (1662-1753) in the first years of the 18th century. The earliest number is R3594, one of many sequences used by Sloane. Research published by Amy Blakeway in The Library Catalogues of Sir Hans Sloane: Their Authors, Organization, and Functions (http://www.bl.uk/eblj/2011articles/pdf/ebljarticle162011.pdf), suggests that the R-sequence was used for a rather random can be dated to between 1712 and 1723.  Sloane has also added the erroneous description in his own hand “Fables in the Language of Tonquin” (i.e. Vietnam). After Sloane’s death his vast collections became the foundation of the British Museum and its library and were installed in Montagu House. The number on the titlepage (3Ib) is a Montagu House location, showing that the book was stored in room 3, press I, and on shelf b with other works on Mythology. The book was given the general shelfmark 1075.e. but was later considered to be important/valuable enough to be moved to a case pressmark C.24.e.4.  A subsequent reorganisation of the British Museum Library saw it being transferred to the Department of Oriental Manuscripts and Printed Books (OMPB) where shelfmarks beginning “Or.” were assigned - Or.59.d.6 and, later, its current number Or.59.aa.1.  As part of OMPB Feiqe monogatari passed to the custodianship of the British Library in 1973.

Its role as a teaching tool for non-Japanese missionaries gives Feiqe monogatari is greatest significance today - that it is written in colloquial, rather than literary Japanese and is printed in the Latin alphabet, not in Japanese script.  The Japanese written language was, and is, extremely complicated combining many thousands of Chinese characters and two different syllabaries.  Using the 26 letters of the Latin alphabet made the task of writing and printing much simpler and meant that the text was easier for the Jesuits to read.  Since at that time there was no standard way of transcribing Japanese, the missionaries simply wrote down what they heard often using the spelling conventions of their native Portuguese.  For the study of Japanese historical linguistics, therefore, Feiqe monogatari is a very valuable source of information for how the language was actually spoken and pronounced in the late 16th century.

In a way that will be familiar to all who have ever tried to learn a foreign language, whenever they were unable to find the correct Japanese translation of a word the missionaries and their Japanese helpers seem to have simply used the Portuguese word instead. So "Aesop's Fables" becomes "Esopo no fabulas” and “history” is “historia” rather than the expected Japanese words gūwa 寓話 and rekishi 歴史respectively.

Successive shelfmarks used for Feiqe monogatari (Or.59.aa.1, preliminary pages)

Sadly, no record has been found of how Sloane acquired the book or from whom. Between 1723 and 1725, Sloane purchased a substantial collection of Japanese books, manuscripts, natural history specimens and other material from the family of the German physician Engelbert Kaempfer (1651-1716) who had lived in Japan from 1690-92 as physician in the Dutch East India Company’s trading base in Nagasaki. However, as noted above, a study of the shelfmarks and other annotations suggest that Feiqe monogatari was acquired by Sloane before the Kaempfer collection. It is known that the Jesuits sent some of their publications back to Europe – either to Rome or to their influential benefactors. Recent research by Peter Kornicki has shown that Japanese books reached England during the 1620s, sent to wealthy patrons by the East India Company through its trading factory in Hirado. Dutch traders also continued a supply of books back to Europe, some of which would have circulated among collectors like Sloane.

One final mystery is the illustration on the front page of the volume which depicts a crowned classical figure in a chariot pulled by lions. Neither the image nor the Latin inscription have no obvious connection to the content of any of the contained works. Perhaps this was an etching or woodcut that had been used in another work and was simply inserted here as decoration. If any readers of this blog recognise it, I would be delighted to hear from them.

Hamish Todd,

Head of East Asian Collections

With thanks to Dr Karen Limper-Herz, Lead Curator for Incunabula and 16^th Century Books, British Library.

References

Blakeway, Amy, “The library catalogues of Sir Hans Sloane: their authors, organization, and functions”. eBLJ (2011). http://www.bl.uk/eblj/2011articles/pdf/ebljarticle162011.pdf

Elison, George, Deus Destroyed: The Image of Christianity in Early Modern Japan, Harvard University Press, 1973.

Kornicki, Peter, Umi o watatta Nihon shoseki : Yōroppa e, soshite Bakumatsu, Meiji no Rondon de 海を渡った日本書籍 : ヨーロッパへ、そして幕末・明治のロンドンで. Tokyo: Heibonsha, 2018.

Laures, Johannes, Kirishitan Bunko: A manual of books and documents on the early Christian mission in Japan. Tokyo: Sophia University, 1940.

Orii, Yoshimi, “The dispersion of Jesuit books printed in Japan: Trends in bibliographical research and in intellectual history”. Journal of Jesuit Studies 2 ; 2 (2015).  https://brill.com/view/journals/jjs/2/2/article-p189_2.xml?lang=en

Satow, Ernest., The Jesuit Mission Press in Japan, Privately printed, 1888.

Toyoshima, Masayuki 豊島正之 (ed.), Kirishitan to Shuppan キリシタンと出版. Tokyo: Yagi Shoten,

The new exhibition in the British Library’s Entrance Hall, Cats on the Page (until Sunday 17th March 2019), provides a fascinating glimpse of how cats come to life in books. One of several items from the Japanese collections in the exhibition is The Boy who drew cats, rendered into English by Lafcadio Hearn. This story was issued in the Japanese fairy tale series published by Hasegawa Takejirō from 1885, which also included another cat-related tale, Schippeitaro, by Mrs T.H. James, published in 1888. Although the cover illustration of Schippeitaro showing cats dancing in a circle is rather light-hearted, these cats are not simply cute creatures.

The cover of Schippeitaro, showing a dog in the basket and cats dancing around him in a circle. Mrs T.H. James, Schippeitaro. Tokyo: Kōbunsha, 1888. British Library, ORB.30/4013

Interestingly, the preface of the tale has nothing to do with cats, but concerns a dog and his image on an Ofuda. Ofuda are paper or wooden amulets issued by Japanese religious institutions to protect their owners from various evils. This image is described as “The picture of the dog, a copy of one now issued from Mitsumine or Mitakesan to the faithful who reverence it as Okuchishinjin, the large mouthed god”.

Close up of the first page of the tale, showing a fictional Ofuda of Shippeitarō Daimyōjin. Schippeitaro, 1889. British Library, ORB.30/4013

'Okuchishinjin' must have been a mis-transliteration of the characters 大口真神, which should have been read either as Ōkuchi no magami or Ōguchimagami, a Japanese wolf who plays the role of a divine servant in Shintō belief. Traditionally people affectionately call him Oinu-sama (お犬様), meaning a holy dog. He is strongly associated with Yamato Takeru (日本武尊), a legendary prince of ancient Japan, who is believed to have established Mitsumine Shrine (三峰神社) on his way to the East Country, where the power of the emperor of Japan had yet not been accepted. There is a well-known story of the wolf who guided Yamato Takeru, when he lost his way in the deep mountains of Musashi province. Latterly Yamato Takeru entrusts the protection of the Musashi mountain area to the wolf, so this is why both Mitsumine Shrine and Musashi Mitake Shrine (武蔵御嶽神社) worship Oinu-sama, and his Ofuda is believed to ward off devils and thieves.

This Ofuda (far right) is possibly from the Mitake Shrine. [The original place of worship in Musashi province was believed to have been founded in 91 BC. Later it joined the Grand Head temple of the Kinpusen Zaō Gongendō (金峰山寺蔵王権現堂) in Yoshino (吉野) and became well known as Mitake Zaō Gongen (御嶽蔵王権現). In the late 19th century, the Meiji government ordered religious institutions to follow the policy of the separation of Shinto from Buddhism, and the name was changed to Mitake Shrine (御嶽神社) in 1874.] The Ofuda shown is from a collection of c. 330 Japanese amulets printed up to the 1880s, mounted in 5 albums. Ofuda harikomichō : Daiei Toshokanzō お札貼込帳 : 大英図書館蔵. British Library, 16007.d.1(1) 60-63 

The legend of Yamato Takeru and the wolf may be an early example of a theme familiar in Japanese tales, of the hero’s journey with a faithful dog. However, in Schippeitaro (竹篦太郎) the true hero is probably not the warrior, but the eponymous dog of the story. A young travelling samurai warrior gets lost in a thick forest on a wild mountainside, with no human inhabitants in sight. Fortunately, he comes upon an empty and half-ruined temple, to serve as his shelter for the night. In the middle of the night, he hears a strange noise and witnesses an extraordinary scene, of a troop of cats dancing in a circle under a beautiful full moon, singing “Tell it not to Schippeitaro! Keep it close and dark!”
 

All the cats are depicted standing on two legs, chanting and dancing under the moonlight, with one on the left page with a Tenugui, Japanese traditional towel, on his head. Schippeitaro, 1889. British Library, ORB.30/4013

The mysterious night passes and by the time dawn arrives, the cats have gone and the samurai manages to discover a path to reach a village. The villagers are overcome by grief because they have to send a fine maiden to a mountain spirit as his sacrifice. The villagers have no choice but to put the victim into a bamboo trunk and leave her in the ruined temple where the samurai warrior had just spent the night. He wants to help the girl and the villagers, so he tells them what he saw the previous night, and asks who Schippeitaro is. He finds out that Schippeitaro is actually a strong and beautiful dog, belonging to the master of the area. The master agrees to send the brave Schippeitaro to the village, and it is Schippeitaro instead of the maiden who is put into the bamboo trunk, and then waits quietly in the ruined temple.

Schippeitaro, the dog of whom the troop of cats are so afraid, in the bamboo trunk while on his mission to save the maiden and the village. Schippeitaro, 1889. British Library, ORB.30/4013
 
At midnight, the troop of cats arrives, led by a huge black boss cat. The fearless Schippeitaro attacks the boss, seizes him with his teeth and holds him fast, so that the young samurai can finish the monster off with one stroke of his trusty sword. The village no longer has to provide a sacrifice and Schippeitaro returns to his master, showered with gratitude by all.

The boss black cat approaching the sacrifice with his troop, while Schippeitaro patiently hides inside, waiting for the best moment to attack. Schippeitaro, 1889. British Library, ORB.30/4013

Superstitious Japanese used to believe that if Japanese cats lived too long, they would turn into monster cats Nekomata (猫又) by practising a mysterious ceremony, dancing in a circle in the middle of the night, ideally covering their head with a Tenugui towel.

Shown on the right is a Nekomata 猫又, cat monster, standing on two legs, wearing a Kimono and putting a Tenugui on her head. Hashimoto Sadahide 橋本 貞秀. Nekomata baba keshō yashiki 金花貓婆化生鋪. Edo : Tsuruya Kichiemon 江戸 : 鶴屋喜右衛門, 1893. Woodblock-printed book. National Diet Library

Although the mountain spirits are depicted as cats in this particular tale, they are usually baboons or monkeys in variations of the original Japanese legend. It was thought that when Mrs. T.H. (Kate) James was working on the English text of Schippeitaro, she probably replaced baboons, which were not familiar to 19th century English readers, with cats.

Close up of a Nekomata pretending to be an ordinary cat, but her forked tail clearly indicates she is not just a cat. Hashimoto Sadahide 橋本 貞秀. Nekomata baba keshō yashiki 金花貓婆化生鋪. Edo : Tsuruya Kichiemon 江戸 : 鶴屋喜右衛門, 1893. Woodblock-printed book. National Diet Library

We don’t know the exact reason for Mrs James' choice of cats instead of the other options available to her; perhaps, she was inspired by the legend of the mysterious dancing cats. All we know is that the motif of the dancing cats added a somewhat more humorous flavour to the story than savage baboons would have done.

References:

The Boy who drew cats (Japanese fairy tale series,no.23). Tokyo, 1905. British Library, 11095.a.20.

ちりめん本『竹篦太郎』に表れる「踊る猫」

Chichibu Mitsumine shrine (秩父三峰神社)
Murashi Mitake shrine (武蔵御嶽神社)

Blog post: Ofuda: in with the good, out with the bad (Part 1) and (Part 2)

Yasuyo Ohtsuka, Curator, Japanese Collections

The 7th day of the 7th lunar month has long been the date of the Star Festival 七夕 in East Asia, traditionally known as Tanabata in Japan, and as Qixi - or more recently as the ‘Chinese Valentine’s Day’ - in China. It has always been a very popular festival celebrating the summer evening, and evoking the romantic legend of the star lovers who meet each other once a year by crossing the Magpie Bridge over the Milky Way.

Above left is the Dunhuang Star Atlas, the oldest known manuscript of a star chart dating to around AD 700. On the right-hand image the Magpie Bridge, which corresponds to the constellation of Cygnus (= Celestial Ford 天津), has been indicated by a green dotted line, and the Milky Way is indicated by two parallel dotted lines in blue (neither feature is marked on the original Star Atlas). The boy lover, known as Niulang (牛郎) in the Chinese folktale, was identified in his original position as Niu su yi (牛宿一), also known as β Capricorni or Dabih Major in Western astronomy. The girl, Zhinü (織女) has always been and still is associated with Vega since the creation of the Dunhuang Atlas. British Library, Stein Collection Or.8210/S.3326. International Dunhuang Project http://idp.bl.uk/

However, the Star Festival is not only for celebrating romance. We first explored the origins of this festival and related astronomical subjects in two previous blog posts in August 2014: ‘Tanabata (七夕) Star Festival’ - is it 7 July or 2 August 2014? (1) and (2). This year we concentrate on how the night of the 7th day of the 7th lunar month has had a dramatic impact on both the Chinese and Japanese literary traditions.

A young woman crossing the Magpie Bridge over the Milky Way. Grace James, Green Willow and other Japanese Fairy Tales (London: Macmillan, 1910). British Library, L.R.26.d.7

One of the most notable references to the night of the 7th day of the 7th lunar month in Chinese classical poetry is probably ‘The Song of Everlasting Regret (長恨歌)’ by Bai Juyi (白居易 772–846). The inspiration for Bai Juyi’s poem was the doomed love between Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang Dynasty (唐玄宗帝 685-762) and his imperial consort Yang Guifei (楊貴妃 719-756). On the night of the 7th day of the 7th lunar month, they vowed to be together forever. However, there was to be no happy ending, as Yang Guifei was assassinated.

Front cover (left) and illustration (centre and right) of the Daoist master meeting with Yang Guifei in the afterworld (right). Chōgonka Zushō 長恨歌圖抄. Published in Japan, Enpō 5 [1677]. British Library, Or.74.cc.7

Despite the passage of many years, Emperor Xuanzong still pines for his dead lover, Yang Guifei. Although he cannot cross the border into the afterlife, he commissions his Daoist master to seek out Yang Guifei, for whom he is still longing but can no longer see, even in his dreams. Eventually the Daoist master manages to meet Yang Guifei in the afterlife, and she asks him to pass her message to Emperor Xuanzong, calling her Imperial lover to a romantic reunion in the stars. Even though there is no explicit mention of the star lovers in the lines below, the 7th day of the 7th lunar month indubitably references the love of the celestial couple.

“On the seventh day of the seventh lunar month, in the Hall of Longevity,
At midnight, when nobody is around, this is when we will make our secret pact.
In the heavens, we vow to be as two birds flying wingtip to wingtip,
On earth, we vow to be as two intertwined branches of a tree.”

“On the seventh day of the seventh lunar month”. Chinese text with Japanese annotations. Chōgonka Zushō 長恨歌圖抄. Published in Japan for Japanese readers, Enpō 5 [1677]. British Library, Or.74.cc.7

‘The Song of Everlasting Regret’ was already very well known among the Japanese when Murasaki Shikibu (紫式部), who was a lady-in-waiting at the court of the Empress Shōshi in the 11th century, wrote ‘The Tale of Genji (源氏物語)’, and it is clear that she consciously included many direct or indirect references to Bai Juyi’s poetry.

At the opening of the story, the relationship of Genji's parents mirrors that of the Emperor Xuanzong and Yang Guifei, as Genji's father is the Emperor Kiritsubo and his mother is the most beloved one in his court. Genji’s mother dies young, leaving the Emperor in deep sorrow. While they were together, their favourite saying was “In the sky, as birds that share a wing. On earth, as trees that share a branch”, from the famous lines in ‘The Song of Everlasting Sorrow’. Day and night, he repeatedly bemoans the shortness of her life, making his own but an empty dream.

Chapter 41 of 'The Tale of the Genji' (源氏物語繪詞, Genji monogatari ekotoba), Naraehon manuscript, mid-17th century. British Library, Or.1287, f.43

In Chapter 41, Genji is left alone as his wife Lady Murasaki dies. In this chapter, the episode of the night of the 7th day of the 7th month is described as Tanabata, the day of the blessing of the star lovers. Genji is not in the mood for celebrating romance, and he keeps on thinking of his late wife and composes this poem: “They meet, these stars, in a world beyond the clouds. My tears but join the dews of the garden of parting.” Although the symbolic lines “In the sky, as birds that share a wing. On earth, as trees that share a branch” were not quoted explicitly in his poem, they are evoked implicitly through the whole chapter.

The celestial lovers - Kengyū (Niulang in Chinese) and Orihime (Zhinü in Chinese). Ikeda, Touri 池田東籬. Amanogawa sōshi 銀河草子. Tenpō 6 [1835.] British Library, ORB.30/3377

Konparu Zenchiku (金春善竹 1405-1470) composed a Noh play, ‘Yōkihi (楊貴妃)’, based on the latter part of ‘The Song of Everlasting Regret’. The key motifs in his Noh play were the tragic separations and broken promises as the lovers believed that nothing could force them to be parted. The lines about the 7th day of the 7th month, the star lovers, tree branches and birds are repeated at the close of the Noh play, leaving the audience filled with sorrow.

Yōkihi (楊貴妃) from the collection of 200 illustrations of characters from Noh plays. Tsukioka, Kōgyo 月岡耕漁, and Sōfū Matsuno松野奏風. Nōga taikan : nōga nihyakuban ōzoroe 能畫大鑑 : 能畫貮百番大揃. Tōkyō: Seibi Shoin 東京 : 精美書院, 1936. Revised edition of the work originally published in 1934. British Library, ORB.45/153

Lovers in classical literature were aware that they could not thwart fate and that human life is full of uncertainty, but perhaps they admired the star lovers in the night sky as a symbol of eternal love, unobtainable in the real world.

References

Song of Everlasting Regret (Chinese & English translation)

The Tale of Genji (full English translation)

源氏物語と長恨歌

The Dunhuang Chinese sky: a comprehensive study of the oldest known star atlas

With special thanks to Professor Roberto Soria, University of the Chinese Academy of Sciences, for identifying positions of the key constellations and the Milky Way on the Dunhuang Star Atlas.

Yasuyo Ohtsuka, Curator, Japanese Collections

On 2^nd and 3^rd June 2017 a long-lost Japanese Bunraku puppet play will be staged at the British Library by performers led by the shamisen-player Echigo Kakutayū and puppeteer Nishihashi Hachirōbei. Entitled Echigo no Kuni Kashiwazaki Kōchi Hōin godenki越後國柏崎弘知法印御博記 or ‘The Life of the High Priest Kōchi from Kashiwazaki in Echigo Province’, the anonymous play is a highly fictionalised version of the life of the monk Kōchi Hōin (died 1363) whose mummified remains are preserved at the Saishōji Temple in Nagaoka, Niigata Prefecture.

Front cover and first page of Kōchi Hōin godenki. The latter bears a slightly different form of the title - Kōchi Shōnin - and Kaempfer has rendered the title as Kootsi Foin (BL Or 75.g.23(1))

To coincide with these performances, the full text of the play, consisting of 16 leaves and including 6 double-page black-and-white illustrations, has been digitised and made available on the British Library Digisited Manuscripts website (BL Or 75.g.23(1))

Kōchi Hōin encounters a demon  (BL Or 75.g.23(1) fol 7r)

The play belongs to a genre known as jōruri, a form of dramatic narrative performed by a chanter (tayū) to the accompaniment of the shamisen. More specifically it is described as kojōruri (‘old’ jōruri), the term applied to texts that predate the era of the renowned playwright Chikamatsu Monzaemon. From the early 17^th century the stories came to be used for the traditional Japanese puppet theatre, originally called Ningyō jōruri or ‘puppet jōruri’ and today more widely known as Bunraku.

Geisha playing the shamisen. From Seirō bijin awase, 1770 (BL Or.75.g.34 v.2 fol. 26v)

Geisha playing with a puppet. From Seirō bijin awase, 1770 (BL Or.75.g.34 v.5 fol. 71v)

According to a note at the end of the text it was published in Edo (now Tokyo), in 1685 [Jōkyō 2] by Urokogataya based on an original version (shōhon) produced by the chanter Edo Magoshirō . Not long afterwards it was acquired by the German Engelbert Kaempfer (1651-1716), author of the History of Japan, who served as physician to the Dutch East India Company at Deshima from 1690-92. During this time he collected books, manuscripts, maps, natural history samples and ethnological artefacts which were to serve as the source material for his later writings on Japan following his return to Germany. Clearly Kaempfer was interested in this play text as there are annotations in his handwriting identifying some of the main characters.

Self portrait by Engelbert Kaempfer. Detail
(BL Sloane Ms 3060 fol. 502)

After Kaempfer’s death in 1716, his collection was purchased by the physician, naturalist and collector Sir Hans Sloane and subsequently entered the British Museum on its foundation in 1753. So it was that the text of The Life of Kōchi Hōin left Japan and found its way to London.

A note on the inside of the front cover records that in December 1770 it was examined, along with other Chinese and Japanese books in the Museum, by a Chinese model-maker named Chetqua who mistakenly declared it to be ‘a Chinese story book’.

Erroneous note by Chetqua inside front cover  (BL Or 75.g.23(1), front)

Thereafter for almost two centuries it remained in the British Museum Library, largely unremarked, until its significance as the only surviving copy of the play was recognised by Professor Torigoe Bunzō of Waseda University in 1962.

In 1973, along with the rest of Kaempfer’s books, it was transferred to the newly established British Library.

Although the text of the play was published in Japan in 1966, it was not until 2009 that The Life of Kōchi Hōin was revived and performed again, primarily through the efforts of Donald Keene, Professor Emeritus of Columbia University. This performance in London will bring the story of Kōchi Hōin to life in the city where the play text has been preserved for almost 300 years.

Select bibliography
Yu-Ying Brown. ‘Origins and Charactersitics of the Japanese Collection in the British Library, British Library Journal, 24 (1), 1998, pp. 144-157.
Yu-Ying Brown, ‘Japanese Books and Manuscripts: Sloane’s Japanese Library and the Making of the History of Japan’ in Arthur MacGragor (ed.), Sir Hans Sloane: Collector, Scientist , Antiquary, Founding Father of the British Museum (London: British Museum, 1994), pp. 278-290.
Torigoe Bunzō and Charles Dunn (eds). Kojōrurishū : Daiei Hakubutsukan-bon . Tōkyō : Koten Bunko, 1966

Hamish Todd, Head of East Asian Collections

The British Library has recently digitised two important manuscripts relating to the Okinawan language (click on hyperlink to get to digital copies): English-Loochooan dictionary: with many phrases in the higher style of the literati, and a glossary of derivatives from the Chinese language (BL Or.40) and Elements or contributions towards a Loochooan & Japanese grammar (BL Or.41), written by the missionary Bernard Jean Bettelheim (1811-1870) and presented to the British Museum on 2 May 1867.

Dedication from Bettelheim’s Dictionary (BL Or.40 f.2r) :

As this dictionary was written while I was in part supported by kind English friends, and in grateful remembrance of many favors, both temporal and spiritual, recevied from Englishmen while in England & at Loochoo & especially for the gracious protection received from the English Government while in my mission field I wish this volume to become the property of the national museum in London, Great Britain. Cayuga, Illinois, U.S.A., Apr 10^th 1867.

Bettelheim’s career
Bettelheim, the first Protestant missionary in what was then the independent Kingdom of Ryukyu (technically a tributary state of Qing China but de facto under the control of the Satsuma Domain on behalf of the Japanese Shogunate), was born in June 1811 in Pressburg (Bratislava) of Jewish descent. He was educated in Budapest and Vienna before moving to Italy where he obtained a doctorate of medicine at the University of Padua in September 1836. He converted from Judaism to Christianity in 1840 while serving as a military surgeon in Smyrna. Some months later he moved to London where in 1843 he married an Englishwoman, Elizabeth Mary Barwick (1821-1872), and took British nationality. The same year he joined the ‘Loochoo Naval Mission’, founded by Lt. Herbert Clifford, as a lay preacher and medical missionary, and on 1 May 1846 he arrived in Naha, Okinawa on board the ‘Starling’ accompanied by his wife and their two young children.

Bernard Jean Bettelheim (Okinawa Prefectural Museum)

From the outset Bettelheim met with strong opposition from the local authorities and he and his family endured many slights and hardships. His efforts to preach were disrupted by officials and according to one account, ‘People even went so far as to put buckets of filth at his feet while he was speaking’ (Pierre Leturdu, quoted by Cary, p.23). Nevertheless Bettelheim remained in Ryukyu for eight years, working as a missionary, using his medical skills to treat the sick, studying the Okinawan (or ‘Loochooan’ language)^[1] and translating parts of the Bible. Throughout these years he maintained a detailed journal which chronicles his trials, tribulations and successes as well as providing a vivid account of life in Ryukyu at that time. Bettelheim finally left Okinawa, to the relief of the authorities, aboard an American warship (part of Commodore Matthew Perry's fleet) in July 1854 and went to Hong Kong where his translations of the Gospels of St Luke and St John, and of the Acts of the Apostles and Romans were published in 1855 at the instigation of George Smith (1815-1871), Anglican Bishop of Victoria.

From Hong Kong Bettelheim moved to the USA, settling in New York. During the Civil War he served as an army doctor and was living in Cayuga, Illinois when he presented his works to the British Museum. He died of pneumonia in Brookfield, Missouri on 9 February 1870. In 1926 to commemorate the 80^th anniversary of his arrival, a memorial was erected on the site of his former home in the precincts of the Gokokuji Temple in Naha. Although it was destroyed in World War II, a new memorial has since been set up.

Memorial to Bettelheim at Gokouji, Nara (Source: Wikimedia Commons. Photo by LordAmeth)

Bettelheim was a controversial figure both in his own day and since, with biographers disagreeing over his personality, importance and legacy. His presence was a source of constant irritation to the Ryukyu authorities and his journal details the hardships he faced. His success as a missionary appears to have been limited - according to the highly critical account by George Kerr, he made just ‘one avowed convert in seven years’ (Kerr, p. 288). However, Earl Bull, a Methodist missionary in Okinawa, considered him a remarkable and self-sacrificing man but one who was ‘not fitted temperamentally to be a successful missionary’ (Bull, p. 122). Otis Cary said of Bettelheim, ‘The Kingdom of God is not to be built up by the disregard of the rights of others, and it is to be questioned whether its progress was not retarded rather than hastened by what was done in Loochoo’ (Cary, p.22). One of his more sympathetic critics, Anthony Jenkins, who edited his voluminous journal, wrote ‘A man of science, linguistics, theology, music and even amateur aesthetics, Bettelheim was one who whose brilliance was parallelled by self-importance’ (Jenkins, p.viii).

Grammar and Dictionary
When he arrived in Ryukyu, Bettelheim had very few resources to assist him in his efforts to learn the language. He had a copy of Medhurst’s Japanese-English Dictionary ^[2], Karl Gützlaff’s Japanese translations of portions of the Bible, and a glossary of Okinawan compiled by Clifford in 1818 which Bettelheim found to be full of mistakes. In his study of the local language, therefore, he was compelled to start from scratch, relying principally on what he could learn from the Okinawans themselves.

Bettelheim set to work on compiling his grammar shortly after his arrival. The British Library’s manuscript has a preface dated 4 September 1849 but as early as 10 September 1846 he noted in his journal that he had ‘already begun to collect notes towards a grammar of the Loochooan’. Work on the dictionary must have begun around the same time for by 20 March 1847 he wrote in the Dictionary ‘I am at “Brib”’. His linguistic labours continued for five years until finally he recorded in his journal - with a characteristic lack of modesty (Jenkins, Vol. I p.616):

25 Dec 1851 … the greatest entry of this day, yea The Greatest Entry of the Year I have to make is that the Dictionary is finished. Thanks be to God for patience & health given to accomplish such arduous work. With such materials as I had, I am sure never man wrote such Dictionary. And I am equally sure, notwithstanding all the defects the work may have, the degree of completeness to which it is brought was never given to a dictionary by one man [….] What a beastly labour of hand & back bending, besides mental toil & anxiety.

Title page of Bettelheim’s Okinawan grammar (BL Or.41 f.1r)

The status of Okinawan as an independent language or as a dialect of Japanese has been much debated. It seems Bettelheim himself was confused at times - the title page of his grammar shows that the original title was Elements or contributions towards a Japanese grammar with ‘Loochooan &’ being added later. In his preface he writes ‘I have never been in Japan nor did I hear natives from Japan speak more than three times, we being entirely prevented from coming into contact with those arriving here’. Nevertheless he states:

From a regular comparison between our language spoken here, and that contained in the books referred to [³], I hope I am not at all mistaken in calling ours Japanese, with the exception of a trifling difference between the sounds’. He concludes that ‘though there may be,as in any other language there are, dialectic differences in the Japanese, and that therefore a Yedoman [⁴] may as much differ from a Shuri-samuré as a London Cockney does from a broadmouthed Scotchman, yet the language of both to all ends and purposes is the same, and they will be able to understand and converse with each other.

Perhaps he later came to change his mind and added ‘Loochooan’ to the title when presenting the manuscript to the British Museum.

Following the annexation of Ryukyu by Japan, the Ryukyuan languages were customarily regarded as Japanese dialects. They are now recognised as independent languages belonging to the Japonic language family, related to – but distinct from – Japanese. Nowadays, the language described in the grammar and dictionary is defined by linguists as ‘Shuri Ryukyuan’ or uchinaaguchi, the language of the royal court in Shuri, capital of the Ryukyu Kingdom, which enjoyed greater prestige among the various Ryukyuan languages ^[5].

‘On the Japanese Letters’ – katakana as used to write Okinawan (BL Or.41 f.3v)

Although Bettelheim’s Bible translations into Okinawan were published in 1855, his grammar and dictionary were long overlooked. The grammar was finally edited and published in the 1980s (Kina et al. (1980-1984)). It contains 100 pages with sections ‘on the Japanese Letters’ (i.e. katakana), the phonology, morphology and syntax of Okinawan as well as some exercises and examples of the language. The dictionary, which runs to over 1,300 pages from A to Zoology, remains unpublished.

The last page of Bettelheim’s dictionary – ‘Zone’ and ‘Zoology’: ‘Through the help of God finished Christmas Day 1851’ (BL Or.40 f. 626v)

The British Library also holds copies of Bettelheim’s Okinawan translations of the Gospel of St John (16011.a.8, 16011.a.11), Gospel of St Luke (16011.a.10), Acts of the Apostles (16011.a.6, 16011.a.9) and Romans (16011.a.7,16011.a.12), and a further translation of the Gospel of St Luke into Japanese (16011.a.13).

Bettelheim’s Okinawan translations of the Gospels of St John (left) and St Luke (right) (BL 16011.a.8 & 16011.a.10)

Bettelheim’s Okinawan translations of St Paul’s Letter to the Romans (left) and Acts of the Apostles (right) (BL. 16011.a.12 & 16011.a.9)

First chapter of Bettelheim’s Okinawan translation of St Paul’s Letter to the Romans (BL. 16011.a.12)

Whatever his successes or failings as a missionary, later generations have reason to be grateful for Bettelheim’s energy and dedication to recording the Okinawan language. His Grammar and Dictionary constitute an extremely valuable resource for the study of the language.

Further reading
Bull, Earl R., Okinawa or Ryukyu – the Floating Dragon. Newark (Ohio), 1958.
Cary, Otis, A History of Christianity in Japan. New York: Fleming H. Revell Co, 1909.
Griesenhofer, Christopher, ‘B. J. Bettelheim 1849 : The first grammar of Ryukyuan’ in Handbook of the Ryukyuan languages: history, structure and use. Berlin ; Boston, Walter Gruyter GmbH, 2015.
Jenkins, Anthony P., The Journal and correspondence of Bernard Jean Bettelheim 1845-1854. Parts I-II. Naha: Okinawa-ken Kyōiku Iinkai, 2005-2012.
Kerr, George H., Okinawa: the history of an island people. Rutland ; Tokyo : Tuttle & Co., 1958.
Kina Chōshō et al., “Betteruhaimu-cho ‘Ryūkyūgo to Nihongo no bunpō no yōkō’, Nantō bunka ; 2 (1980)-6 (1984).

Hamish Todd, Asian and African Collections

___________

[1] Okinawan is one of the five (some argue six) Ryukyuan languages. The obsolete terms ‘Loochoo’ and ‘Loochooan’ derive from Liuqiu, the Chinese pronunciation of the characters 琉球 which are read in Japanese as Ryūkyū.
[2] An English and Japanese, and Japanese and English vocabulary : compiled from native works, by Walter H Medhurst. Batavia, 1830.
[3] i.e. Medhurst’s dictionary and Gützlaff’s translations.
[4] i.e. citizen of Edo (Tokyo).
[5] For a detailed description of the grammar contained in Elements, see Griesenhofer.

The British Library holds a five-volume set of Ofuda [amulet] albums from which we have been introducing some selected items in our previous AAS blog posts. One of these featured an image which happened to be of Daikoku, and caught the attention of the East Asian Money Curator at the British Museum. She drew our attention to some fascinating coin-shaped charms with images of Daikoku and Ebisu.


Daikoku (left) and Ebisu (right), two coin-shaped charms. British Museum 1887,0511.21  and 1984,1222.13

Daikoku and Ebisu are not only two of the Seven Deities of Good Fortune in Japan, they have also been major votive gods for bringing good luck in answer to the prayers of Japanese since time immemorial. They are considered to be the guardians of the natural produce of land and sea, and while one hosts the annual meeting of eight million gods, the other keeps guard over their vacant shrines. They can sometimes be thought of as father and son, but there are also various other reasons why Daikoku and Ebisu are paired together.


Daikoku (left) and Ebisu (right) on a coin-shaped charm. British Museum 1908,0605.8 

Daikoku is the tutelary god of farming and Ebisu is the deity associated with marine products. This combination covers almost all possible sources of food, one of the fundamental drivers for the development of human society. Japan has always been a country of agriculture (rice) and fishing, and so praying for bountiful harvests of rice and good catches of fish was deeply embedded in people’s daily life and attitudes.


Two Ofuda of Daikoku, shown riding on rice bags. Ofuda harikomichō : Daiei Toshokanzō  お札貼込帳 : 大英図書館蔵]. British Library, 16007.d.1(5), 74-80

Daikoku is depicted riding on rice bags and Ebisu carries a fishing rod and a big fish, and these associated images directly symbolise their roles: promising a good harvest and a plentiful catch of fish. However these were not their only roles. If we trace the origins of Daikoku and Ebisu back through ancient legends, we learn that their existence itself is a story of constant transformation.


Ebisu carries a fishing rod and a big fish. Ofuda harikomichō : Daiei Toshokanzō  お札貼込帳 : 大英図書館蔵]. British Library, 16007.d.1(4), 12-17

In fact, Daikoku is a mixture of the Japanese Shinto God Ōkuninushi 大国主 and the deity Shiva, one of the principal deities of Hinduism. How did Shiva ‘The Destroyer’ come to be transformed into this jolly happy figure carrying a big bag of presents on his back?

The answer is linked with the spread of Buddhism into East Asia.  When Chinese monks travelled to India as the birth place of Buddhism to learn about the origin of the Buddha’s doctrines, they translated many sutras into Chinese. Chinese is an ideographic language without phonetic symbols so the early Chinese scholars had to match up every uncommon foreign word with the closest equivalent to their own Chinese ideographs.

Shiva was absorbed into Tantric Buddhism as one of the deities guarding the Buddha. Shiva has as his avatar Mahākāla, literally meaning “great” + “darkness or blackness”, which correspond to the Chinese ideographs 大 + 黑 (Dà hēi). In the Buddhist pantheon, Shiva was thus transformed into Dàhēi tiān大黑天, a brave protector of Buddhism from all demons against the virtues of Buddha.

Eventually, when Shiva =  Dàhēi 大黑reached Japan he was not only accepted as one of the Buddhist Devas, but also merged with a Japanese god. The Japanese Shinto god Ōkuninushi 大国主, could be read phonetically as Daikokunushi, very similar to the sound of Dàhēi 大黑 in the Japanese phonetic reading 'Daikoku'. In Japan Buddhism and Shinto belief are closely connected and over time have influenced each other, becoming mixed together.  Thus Daikoku大黒 can be both a Buddhist Deva and an avatar of Ōkuninushi.
 

Daikoku (left) as a young god shows that he keeps a touch of his past as Mahākāla. Daikoku (right) in one of his most popular manifestations.  Ofuda harikomichō : Daiei Toshokanzō  お札貼込帳 : 大英図書館蔵]. British Library, 16007.d.1(2), 41-44 and 16007.d.1(5), 74-80

Ōkuninushi is the god of the completed construction of the world situated between heaven and hell, known in Japanese as the ’Ashihara no Nakatsukuni 葦原中国’, which literally means “The middle country of reed beds”, and which represents the physical land of Japan. Ōkuninushi builds the land mass and the villages, introduces farming and treats the sick. He blesses all good relationships and lives in Izumo. Once a year, all Japanese gods assemble at his great shrine and have an annual meeting to report to each other – a sort of divine summit meeting!

However, there are a few exceptions, such as Ebisu 恵比寿. He stays at his own shrines to keep his eyes on people who are praying, as well as to watch over the vacant shrines whose gods have departed to attend the great shrine in Izumo.

Ebisu is an indigenous Japanese Shinto god, who has not been combined with other religious figures. Japan is surrounded by seas so it is natural for the ancient Japanese to worship the sea.  Ebisu is often symbolised by marine flotsam. He represents visitors from across the sea and is the god of what the sea brings forth. Ebisu is often associated with Hiruko 蛭子.

Ebisu (top) and Daikoku (bottom). Illustrated by Ogino Issui 荻野一水.Zuan hyakudai 圖案百題. Kyoto: Unsōdō 京都 : 芸艸堂, 1910. British Library ORB.30/788

Hiruko was born as the imperfectly formed child of Izanagi and Izanami as they were trying to form the land of Japan. Hiruko did not have a firm enough body to become an island such as Awaji island or Shikoku island. He was placed in a tiny boat and abandoned to the sea. Hiruko survived this trial and was eventually washed ashore. This legend led to Hiruko being linked to visitors from the sea bringing forth sea resources, and eventually Ebisu was identified as Hiruko.

Ebisu is also associated with Kotoshironushi 事代主, one of the sons of Ōkuninushi大国主, who loves fishing and is deeply connected with the sea.  Kotoshironushi was the key deity in Ōkuninushi’s negotiations with Upper Heaven (Takamagahara 高天原), to reach agreement to pass on the role of rule of Japan to the descendants of the Sun Goddess.  In return Ōkuninushi insisted that a great shrine be built for him in Izumo. Therefore Ebisu, who is associated with Kotoshironushi, plays an important role in patrolling while all the other gods are meeting at his father’s shrine.

Ebisu fishing. Coin-shaped charm. British Museum 1884,0511.2414

Daikoku and Ebisu continued to develop and build up Japan, bringing a rich variety of produce from land and sea which led to the accumulation of wealth and the evolution of society.  It therefore makes sense to the Japanese - and those interested in Japan and its culture - that Daikoku and Ebisu, the chief guardian deities of happiness and good fortune, should constantly turn up in the shape of charms or amulets.


Daikoku as Ōkuninushi (right) and Ebisu as Kotoshironushi (left). Ofuda harikomichō : Daiei Toshokanzō  お札貼込帳 : 大英図書館蔵]. British Library, 16007.d.1(5), 64-70 

Previous blog posts on Ofuda:

Ofuda: in with the good, out with the bad (Part 1), 27 May 2016

Ofuda: in with the good, out with the bad (Part 2), 10 June 2016

Yasuyo Ohtsuka Curator, Japanese Collections

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