The New Year
The _San-ga-nichi_, or "three days" of the New Year, is one of the most
important of the Japanese festivals, for the Japanese make far more of
the New Year than we do in this country. They regard the first three
days of the year as a fitting occasion when it is most important to
insure good luck and happiness for the days that follow, and in order
to bring this about many quaint and ancient observances take place.
Before the houses are decorated a thorough winter cleaning is carried
out. "In ancient times," writes Mrs. C. M. Salwey, "from the Court of
the Emperor to the hut of the peasant, this attention was observed to
such an extent that the Shōgun's Court provided overseers, who visited
with ornamented dusting poles, to overhaul the labour of the servants,
passing their official brooms over ledges and crevices, and in so doing
flourishing in a certain manner their mystic wands to demonstrate
the Chinese ideograph which signified water." Not only is the house
thoroughly cleaned and everything put in order, but evil spirits are
got rid of by throwing out peas and beans from the open _shoji_, or
paper slides.
On the festival of the New Year the houses and gate-posts are adorned
with straw ropes, and these are often made to represent such lucky
Chinese numbers as three, five, and seven. The food chiefly eaten on
this occasion comprises lobsters (their bent and ancient appearance
suggesting long life), oranges, and certain varieties of edible
seaweeds. In addition there are mirror cakes, associated with the Sun
Goddess, and these cakes, composed of rice, are eaten with the oranges
and lobster, and served on pure white trays. One other important
decoration must not be overlooked, and that is the branches of the
pine-tree. These branches symbolise long life, and for some unknown
reason they are burnt when the festival is over.
One of the most picturesque customs associated with this festival,
and one particularly appealing to children, is the Treasure Ship
with the Seven Gods of Good Luck on board, to which we have referred
elsewhere.[1]
The Boys' Festival
The _Tango no Sekku_, or Boys' Festival, takes place on May 5, and is
intended to inspire the youth of Japan with warlike qualities. It is
the day when flags are to be seen in every direction, when the roofs of
the houses are decorated with the leaves of iris, so that Nature's flag
and the flag made by human hands are both conspicuous on this joyous
festival, which is popularly known as the Feast of Flags. Boys are
presented with small figures representing certain great heroes of the
past, while ancient swords, bows, arrows, spears, &c., are handed down
from one generation of children to another.
Perhaps the dominant feature of this festival is the paper flag
shaped like a carp. It is hollow, and when inflated with wind has the
appearance of vigorously flying through the air. The carp symbolises
something more than the crude spirit of warfare, for it typifies
tenacity of purpose and indomitable courage. As the carp swims against
the stream, so is the Japanese youth expected to fight against all
the fierce currents of adversity. This idea is probably derived from
the fascinating Chinese legend of the Dragon Carp which, after a long
struggle, succeeded in swimming past the Dragon Gate rapids, lived a
thousand years, and finally rose into the sky.
The Festival of the Dead
The Festival of the Dead, or _Bommatsuri_, deserves mention here
because it contains much that is legendary. The Japanese peasant's
conception of a future life is not a very delightful one. At death
the body is washed and shaven and then arrayed in a pure white
garment--indeed, in the garment of a pilgrim. Round the neck is hung a
wallet containing three or six _rin_, according to the custom of the
place in which the death occurs, and these _rin_ are buried with the
deceased. The idea of burying coin with the dead is to be found in the
belief that all who die, children alone excepted, must journey to the
Sanzu-no-Kawa, or "The River of the Three Roads." On the bank of this
dismal river Sodzu-Baba, the Old Woman of the Three Roads, awaits the
coming of souls, together with her husband, Ten Datsu-Ba. If three
_rin_ are not paid to the Old Woman she takes away the white garments
of the dead and, regardless of entreaties, hangs them on trees. Then
there is the no less formidable Emma-Ō, the Lord of the Dead; and when
we add to these dread figures some of the terrors of the Buddhist hells
it is not surprising that the gentle and poetical Japanese should have
founded a festival that will afford a pleasant, if all too brief,
respite from the horrors of Hades.
The festival takes place from July 13 to 15. At such a time most of
the houses are mere skeletons, being open to the summer breeze on all
sides. People saunter about in the lightest of garments. Butterflies
and dragon-flies disport in countless numbers, flying over a cool
stretch of lotus or settling on the purple petal of an iris. Fuji rears
her great head into the clear blue sky, bearing like a white scarf a
patch of fast-fading snow.
When the morning of the 13th arrives new mats of rice straw are spread
upon all Buddhist altars and on the little household shrines. Every
Japanese home on that day is provided with a quaint, minute meal in
readiness for the great company of ghosts.
At sunset the streets are bright with the flames of torches, and the
entrances of houses gay with brightly coloured lanterns. Those to
whom this festival applies in a particular sense and not in a general
one--that is to say, those who have recently lost some dear one--go out
on this night to the cemeteries, and there pray, make offerings, burn
incense, and pour out water. Lanterns are lit and bamboo vases filled
with flowers.
On the evening of the 15th the ghosts of the Circle of Penance or
Gakidō are fed, and in addition those ghosts who have no friends among
the living to care for them. There is a legend bearing upon this
particular phase of the Festival of the Dead. Dai-Mokenren, a great
disciple of Buddha, was once permitted to see the soul of his mother
in the Gakidō. He grieved so much on account of intense suffering that
he gave her a bowl containing choice food. Every time she tried to eat
the food would suddenly turn into fire, and finally to ashes. Then
Mokenren asked Buddha to tell him what he could do to ease his mother's
suffering. He was told to feed the ghosts of the great priests of all
countries "on the fifteenth day of the seventh month." When this had
been done Mokenren returned, to find his mother dancing for joy. In
this happy dance after much tribulation we trace the origin of the
_Bon-odori_, which takes place on the third night of the festival.
When the evening of the third day arrives preparations are made for the
departure of the ghosts. Thousands of little boats are packed with food
and loving messages of farewell. Into these boats step the departing
ghosts. Loving hands set these frail craft upon river, lake, or sea.
A small lantern glows at the prow, while pale blue clouds of incense
float up from the stern. Hearn writes: "Down all the creeks and rivers
and canals the phantom fleets go glimmering to the sea; and all the sea
sparkles to the horizon with the lights of the dead, and the sea wind
is fragrant with incense."
There is a pathetic charm about this festival. It is by no means
unique, for it corresponds to the Indian _Sraddha_; but in Japan it
is touched with a more delicate and haunting beauty. No one has been
able to solve conclusively the origin of the _Torii_, that wonderful
gateway that leads nowhere. What a charming entrance or exit for a
company of wandering souls! What a place for ghosts to play and dream
awhile is a Japanese garden, with its lake and moon-shaped bridge, its
stone lantern, its paths of silver sand! And what a street for ghosts
to wander in is the Street Everlasting that is so near to the Street
of Aged Men! Thus Yone Noguchi sums up the magic of a Japanese night,
one of those three nights when souls come in touch with old earthly
memories:
"The scented purple breezes of the Japanese night!
The old moon like a fairy ship of gold
Softly through the dream sea begins to rock on:
(I hear the unheard song of Beauty in the moon ship,
I hear even the whisper of her golden dress.)
The hundred lanterns burning in love and prayer,
Float on the streets like haunting memories.
The silvery music of wooden clogs of the Japanese girls!
Are they not little ghosts out of the bosom of ancient age?
Are they returning to fulfil their thousand fancies forgotten?
O the fancy world of the Japanese night
Born out of the old love and unfulfilled desires!
The crying love-song of the Japanese night,
The _samisen_ music of hungry passion and tears!
O the long wail of heart through the darkness and love!"
The Laughing Festival of Wasa
Numerous other Japanese festivities take place during the year, and
two, the Festival of Dolls and the Festival of Tanabata, the Weaving
Maiden, have been referred to elsewhere. Perhaps in some way the
Laughing Festival of Wasa is the most quaint of all the Japanese
festivities. During the month of October a number of old men form a
procession carrying two boxes full of oranges and persimmons spitted
on sticks. These old men are followed by children with similar fruit
on bamboo rods. Just as the leader reaches the shrine he turns round
and makes a most ludicrous grimace, which is immediately followed by a
merry peal of laughter, and this irresistible merriment has its origin
in the following legend.
In the month of October the Gods used to assemble in a great temple at
Izumo, and they met for the purpose of arranging the love-affairs of
the people. When the Gods were sitting in the temple one of them said:
"Where is Miwa Daimyō-jin?" All the Gods looked everywhere for him, but
he was not to be found. Now Miwa Daimyō-jin was extremely deaf, and,
owing to this defect, he had mistaken the great day when the Gods met
together. When he reached Izumo the meeting had been dissolved, and
all the Gods laughed very much when they heard about it, a laughter
that is imitated year by year in the Laughing festival to which we have
referred.
The Torii
We have referred in this chapter and elsewhere to the _torii_, and
though authorities agree to differ in regard to its use and origin, the
theme is a fascinating one and well worthy of study. According to a
popular account the word _torii_ means "fowl-dwelling" or "bird-rest."
On the top beam of this imposing gateway the fowls heralded the
approach of dawn, and in their cry bade the priests attend to their
early morning prayers. In one legend we are informed that the sun
descends to earth in the form of the Ho-Ho Bird, messenger of love,
peace, and goodwill, and rests upon one of the _torii_.
Professor B. H. Chamberlain regards the "bird-rest" etymology and
the theories derived from it as erroneous, and believes that the
_torii_ came originally from Asia. He writes, in _Things Japanese_:
"The Koreans erect somewhat similar gateways at the approach of their
royal palaces; the Chinese _p'ai lou_, serving to record the virtues
of male or female worthies, seem related in shape as well as in use;
and the occurrence of the word _turan_ in Northern India and of the
word _tori_ in Central India, to denote gateways of strikingly cognate
appearance, gives matter for reflection." Dr. W. G. Aston also believes
that the _torii_ came from abroad, "but holds that it was fitted with
a pre-existing name, which would have originally designated 'a lintel'
before it came to have its present sacred associations."[2]
In regard to the construction of these gateways, Mrs. C. M. Salwey
writes: "The oldest _torii_ of Japan ... were constructed of plain
unvarnished wood. In fact, they were built of straight, upright trunks
of trees in their natural state, though sometimes bereft of the outer
bark. Later on the wood was painted a deep, rich vermilion, possibly
to heighten the effect when the background was densely wooded." Though
the _torii_ was originally associated with Shintōism, it was later
on adopted by the Buddhists, who considerably altered its simple but
beautiful construction by turning up the corners of the horizontal
beams, supplying inscriptions and ornaments of various kinds.
"The Footstool of the King"
Whatever the origin and significance of the Shintō _torii_ may be, no
one will deny its exquisite beauty, and many will agree in believing it
to be the most perfect gateway in the world. Perhaps the most wonderful
_torii_ is the one that stands before the Itsukushima shrine on the
Island of Myajima, and it is called "The Footstool of the King," "The
Gateway of Light," or "The Water Gate of the Sacred Island."
Mrs. Salwey writes: "Is not this Gateway the symbol of the Right
Direction, according to the dogmas of the Shintō Cult, the Goal towards
which the face should be turned--'The Way of the Gods.' Are they not
monitors writing their mystic message as an ideographic sign over the
Lord of the Gods before the rising and setting sun, enhancing by their
presence the dense luxuriance of cryptomerian avenue, reflecting within
dark, still rivers or the silver ripples of the Inland Sea?" We must
be content with this pleasing interpretation of the symbolism of the
_torii_, for it takes us through the gate of conflicting theories, and
gives us something more satisfying than the ramifications of etymology.
[Footnote 1: Chapter VII.: "Legend in Japanese Art."]
[Footnote 2: _Things Japanese_, by Professor B. H. Chamberlain.]