.png)
One spring evening, Padre Organtino1 walked alone in the Nanban Church2 Garden, adjusting the sleeves of his long robe as he traveled. Many European plants grew in the church's garden beneath the pine and cypress trees, including roses, olives, and sweet laurel. The roses were recently in bloom, delicate petals catching and holding the last light of the summer sun under the shadow of the trees. A sweet fragrance wafted faintly through the evening air. This place held a peculiar charm that was utterly unlike that of any manicured Japanese garden.
Padre Organtino had a lonely look. He walked along a narrow pathway formed of crushed red sand, lost in memories. He recalled the splendor of the church in Rome, and the sound of rabeca3 fiddles at the port of Lisbon in Portugal, the taste of almonds... In his mind, he could almost hear the old hymn, "Dear Lord, Mirror of My Soul."4
These were the idle thoughts of a Western monk far from his birthplace, feeling the regretful longings of homesickness. He chanted the name of God over and over again to relieve his anguished longing, but the chant only made him feel worse, not better. The garden around him was lovely, but the air in it felt stifling: heavy and oppressive.
But this country is beautiful, too, Padre Organtino thought, reflecting on his current situation. It really is. The weather is much warmer here than it is at home. The people are unique in my experience. Padre Organtino had served as a missionary for many years, traveling from European ports to colonies in Guinea, the Congo, and Mozambique. They have kind and open hearts. Besides, recently the congregation here has increased dramatically. Tens of thousands of people worship in this place. This fine church stands in the very heart of the capital. In that sense, shouldn't living here be pleasant, even if I find it unpleasant? Why, then, do I feel that I am sinking into the pit of despair? I want to return to Lisbon and leave this country forever. Is this simply melancholy? But no, I wish I could go anywhere , even if it is not Lisbon. If only I could go to China, to Siam, to India... Nostalgia is not the true root of my depression. All I want is to leave this country, and soon. And yet...the scenery is truly beautiful, and the weather is warm...
Organtino heaved a heavy sigh. By chance, his eyes alighted on pale white cherry blossoms falling here and there in the shadow of the moss-grown trees. Cherry blossoms! Organtino stared at the clearing in astonishment. There, in the middle of four or five palm trees, was a weeping cherry tree with drooping branches, the flowers appearing hazy, as if in a dream.
"Lord, save me!"
Organtino made the sign of the cross to ward away evil. For some reason, the blossoms of the weeping cherry tree looked eerie to his eyes. Haunted— or perhaps possessed. The blossoms appeared to be a very Japanese thing— almost the embodiment of Japan itself. They unnerved him. But then he blinked, and realized that the blossoms falling from the tree were simply normal flowers. He smiled at himself, a little ashamed, and returned to the garden path, walking at a slow and measured pace.
Chapter 2
Half an hour later, Padre Organtino knelt down before the altar in the church, offering prayers to God. A lamp hung down from the circular ceiling, casting light on a fresco painted on the wall surrounding the inner shrine. The fresco depicted the archangel Michael battling with a demon of Hell over the body of Moses.5 It was strange, but the archangel and the demon seemed possessed of similar elegance and majesty this evening. Maybe it was a trick of the light, or perhaps the fragrant scent of fresh roses and yellow dyer's broom blossoms offered in front of the altar was affecting Padre Organtino's mind. He bowed his head behind the altar and concentrated on his prayers.
"Oh Lord God of great compassion and mercy! I have devoted my life to Thee since I left my home in Lisbon. No matter what hardships befall me, my devotion is given to the enlightened authority of the Cross. My abilities are humble, Lord, and worth nothing without your blessings.
"But while living in Japan, I have begun to realize just how difficult my mission is. Mysterious powers lurk in the mountains of this country— and not only the mountains. I have felt them in the forest, and even in the row houses in town. Each of these powers hinders my mission. I often experience despair, for reasons that are not clear even to myself. These powers are spread throughout this country, like underground spring water, and they must be defeated.
"Oh Lord God of great compassion and mercy! Aid me, so that the heathen Japanese may have a chance to see the glory of Heaven. I have been in anguish about this for many days. Grant me, Lord, a humble servant of Thine, some measure of Thy courage and patience!"
Padre Organtino thought he heard the harsh cry of a bird outside, but he continued his prayers without paying any heed to the sound.
"In order to accomplish my mission, I must struggle with these unknown powers. I suspect that they are spirits. Grant me, Lord, the same power you had to drown Egyptian armies beneath the Red Sea!6 The strength of the spirits in this land cannot be greater than the entire Egyptian army. Please, grant me Thy power to drive away these spirits..."
Padre Organtino prayed continuously until he fell unconscious. He returned to his senses when he heard a cock crow loudly upon the altar. Organtino eyed the bird suspiciously. The cock perched proudly on the altar with his white tail feathers hanging down, crowing once more as if it was daybreak.
Organtino leapt up and spread his arms wide to try to expel the bird , but, after taking a few steps forward, he became petrified, shouting only, "Dear God!"
The dimly-lit church was suddenly full of numerous roosters . Where they'd entered from was unknown, but they were here, flapping in the air, roaming across the floor, crowing and cackling. The church floor was nothing but a sea of crests and feathers.
"Lord God, save me!"
Padre Organtino tried to cross himself again, but his hands did not move an inch. He felt like they were trapped in a powerful grip. A red light similar to the flames of a bonfire radiated into the church. Organtino realized that he was seeing human figures drifting in and out of the light.
The figures came into focus. Padre Organtino sucked in a deep breath, blinking in astonishment. He saw both men and women gathered inside the church, but their features were wholly unfamiliar to him. They all wore beaded gemstone necklaces and laughed for joy; there was no scorn in them. The numerous roosters crowding around the altar crowed more loudly and in unison with each other as even more figures solidified inside the church. At the same time, the wall that depicted the archangel Michael was hidden by a mysterious fog.
The atmosphere in the church was more suited to a Bacchanalia than a house of worship. In the reddish bonfire light, he saw Japanese men and women in ancient costumes sit in a circle and pour sake into one another's cups. In the center, he saw a woman with a healthy physique, but dishevelled hair,7 dance vigorously atop a large overturned wooden bucket. She waved a branch of small bamboo over her head as she moved.
Behind the bucket, a man who was as strongly built as a tree and as big as a mountain stood in a vaguely protective pose. He lifted an uprooted sacred evergreen tree, on which gemstones and mirrors hung, and set it into place in the center of the church by brute strength alone.
Around the man and woman, several hundred roosters cheerfully crowed and cackled incessantly, drawing their tail feathers and combs close together.
Organtino couldn't believe his eyes. In the space beyond this incredible spectacle, he caught sight of a large, door-like stone slab, obscured slightly by evening fog. The sight was austere and majestic: a complete contrast to the mad dance swirling around him.
The woman on the bucket continued dancing. The vine which bound her hair fluttered in the air. The gemstones strung around her neck shook, and the sound of them clacking together resounded like hail. She swung the small bamboo branch in her hand in all directions. Her chest was scandalously exposed. Her breasts were clearly visible in the red light, emblematic of nothing except the sin of Lust.
Padre Organtino offered up a prayer to his Lord. He tried hard to turn his face aside, but due to the power of some mysterious curse, he could not easily move.
A sudden silence fell over the illusory men and women. The woman on the bucket ceased her dance, as if she had recovered her sanity. Even the cocks competing for their crows became silent at this moment, their necks still stretched out.
The silence was broken by an ethereally beautiful woman's voice. "If I am secluded here, should the world not be covered in darkness? Yet it seems as if the gods are making merry for it."
Once the voice had faded away, the woman on the bucket glanced around, then gave a surprisingly graceful response.
"This is because a new god, superior to you, is there. We are rejoicing for their sake."
A new god—did that mean Padre Organtino's God? Organtino was briefly encouraged, and watched this strange illusion with interested eyes.
The silence stretched out, unbroken, for a while. Then the crowd of cocks crowed all together. The stone slab that looked like a door to a rock cave near the back of the church cracked down the middle, then slowly began to open outwards from both sides, like the two sides of a Japanese temple entrance door. Rainbow-colored light spilled forth from the crack in the rock slab, dazzlingly bright.
Organtino tried to cry out, but even his tongue refused to move. Organtino tried to run, but his feet wouldn't obey him, either. The light made him dizzy. He felt like he was about to fall.
The sound of men and women's voices burst forth in exaltation: "Amaterasu! Amaterasu! Amaterasu!"8
"There are no new gods here. There can be no new gods here."
"Those who oppose Thee shall be destroyed."
"Look! The darkness has vanished."
"The mountains, the forests, the rivers, the towns and the seas...all are yours."
"There are no new gods. All of us are your servants."
"Amaterasu! Amaterasu! Amaterasu!"
Organtino broke into a cold sweat, shouted something incomprehensible with great difficulty and collapsed.
Organtino returned from the depths of his trance at around midnight. He felt as if the voices of the gods were still echoing in his ears. He had a good long look around the church, but he saw and heard nothing strange. The lamp hanging down from the circular ceiling cast a dim light on the fresco of the archangel Michael, just as before. Groaning internally, Organtino slowly turned his steps away from the altar. He could not comprehend what the illusion he had seen meant. He was certain that the one who had shown him that illusion was not his God.
"So I am still struggling with this country's spirits— " The words slipped out unintentionally as Padre Organtino walked. "This struggle seems to be even more difficult than I believed. Whether I will win or lose—"
At that moment, Padre Organtino heard a whisper, right in his ear: "You will lose!"
Perturbed, Organtino looked towards the source of the sound. He saw nothing but the gloomy rose and yellow dyer's broom blossoms upon the altar.
Chapter 3
The next evening, Padre Organtino went walking in the garden of the Nanban Church again. His blue eyes were tinged with happiness. Three Japanese samurai had joined his congregation of believers that day.
The olive and laurel trees in the garden stood solidly in their places, casting their shadows on the earth. The quiet of dusk was disturbed only by the flapping of pigeons in mid-air as they returned to the church's eaves for the night. The scent of roses wafted through the air, and the earthy smell of wet sand was beneath his feet. Everything looked peaceful, like an evening in ancient times when winged angels had first seen the beauty of human women and descended to seek their wives.9
"It seems difficult for the power of the heathen Japanese spirits to gain victory over the authority of the Cross. What was that illusion I saw last night?—Perhaps it was a mere illusion. Was it not of the kind that the demons showed to Saint Anthony?10 The proof was that today we obtained several new believers. Soon, more churches of our Lord will be built everywhere in Japan."
Organtino was walking along when somebody tapped his shoulder from behind. He turned around, but he saw nothing behind him except the evening glow reflecting off the green leaves of the plane trees lining either side of the path of red sand.
"Save me, Lord!"
Padre Organtino turned his head forward again. Beside him, there was an old man wearing a beaded necklace. Padre Organtino had seen him in the previous night's vision. He kept pace with Padre Organtino, staying just a little bit behind him. It was not clear when or how he had gotten there.
Padre Organtino stopped walking and confronted the man. "Who are you?"
"Who am I?— It doesn't matter. I am one of the spirits of this country," the old man replied kindly with a smile on his face. "Let's walk together. I have come to speak with you for a short while."
Organtino crossed himself. The old man showed no sign of fear or revulsion.
"I am not a devil. Look at these beads I wear, and this sword. If they had been scalded by the flames of the Hell, they would not appear as pure as they are. Now, stop reciting your spells. You are giving me a headache."
Organtino folded his arms reluctantly and set off with the old man.
"You have come here to spread the teachings of your Lord," the old man said quietly. "I intend no offense, but I am afraid that your God will eventually lose his foothold in this country."
"Our Lord is the Almighty God. He is the only God that exists." Padre Organtino wanted to say that, but something made him hold back. The old man was speaking to him politely; he owed it to him to return the courtesy. "No other God can prevail over our Lord and savior," he said.
"There is such a god," the old man said. "Please listen to me. Your God is not the only one who has come to this country from afar. Many Chinese philosophers came here to spread their teachings just after the birth of Japan as a nation— Confucius, Mencius, Lao Tzu, and Zhuang Zhou, to name just a few. These Chinese philosophers brought various new and marvelous things to this place, like silk and gems, along with their religious and philosophical ideas. They also brought miraculous characters for writing that were more valuable than any treasure. But was China able to conquer Japan with them? No.
"Have a look at the kanji characters, for instance! Their characters were conquered by us. Many centuries ago, I was acquainted with a poet named Kakinomoto no Hitomaro.11 If you haven't already, I beg you to read the poem Tanabata, composed by this man. You will not find Kengiu and Shokujo in it. The lovers written in the poem are Hikoboshi and Orihime.12 What the poet heard was the sound of the Heavenly River in his homeland, where his gods still dwell. He turned a deaf ear to the sound of the Yangtze River of China.
"But I must tell you about the characters themselves, rather than the poem. Hitomaro used Chinese characters to write Tanabata. He used them as mere phonetic symbols, with no regard to their ideographic meaning. Although the character shiu , 舟, meaning 'boat,' was imported, a boat is called 'fune' in this country. If Japan had adapted the kanji characters with their exact pronunciation and meaning, the Japanese language would have changed to the Chinese language. It was not, of course, Hitomaro himself, but the power of our gods that protected the poet's integrity and heart.
"Chinese philosophers also introduced calligraphy into this country. Kukai, Daufū , Sari, Kauzei13 ... I frequently visited them in secret. They all used Chinese strokes for their models. But a new beauty was created from the tips of their writing brushes. Their strokes turned, in a while, into the new Japanese strokes, which were different from the strokes of Wang Xizhi and Chu Suiliang.14
"And we did not just win with kanji characters. Our breath, like the sea breeze, softened the teachings of the old Confucians. Ask any of the natives of this country! They believe a ship that carries Mencius' books will capsize because those books invite our anger. Shinato does not permit such evil to land on our shores.15 You must see the pattern. I know that you have noticed the power that dwells in this country."
Padre Organtino stared, stupefied, at the old man. He was entirely ignorant of Japan's history, so more than half of the old man's eloquent speech was not remotely comprehensible.
"And after the Chinese philosophers came Siddhartha, a prince of India."
As he continued his talk, the old man plucked a rose from the side of the path and brought the blossom to his nose, thoroughly enjoying the scent. At the stem where the flower was taken off, the same flower remained as it was. Although the color and shape of the flower in the old man's hand appeared to be the same, it looked hazy: not entirely real.
"The fate of Amida Buddha was the same. You may be bored with these individual stories— yes, I see it in your eyes. What I wish you take special heed of is the teaching of Honji Suijaku.16 This teaching led the people of this country to believe that Amaterasu and the Mahayana Buddha were the same entity. Is this a victory for Amaterasu, or a victory for the Buddha? There are many individuals in this nation who do not know Amaterasu, but who do know the Buddha. In the figure of the Buddha that they see in their dreams, they envision the image of Amaterasu, rather than the Indian Buddha. I have walked with Shinran and Nichiren17 under the shade of the flowers of sal trees.18 The Buddha they worshiped and adored was not the black figure surrounded by a halo, but the spitting image of a brother of Prince Shōtoku,19 who was amiable and dignified. I will cease with these long stories full of unfamiliar names now, since I think that I have proved my point. What I wish to tell you is that your God stands no chance against the gods of this country."
"Well, you may say so," Organtino said, "but today, three samurai were converted to our religion."
"Many men will be converted. It doesn't matter. The majority of the people in this country were converted to the teachings of Siddhartha, at one time or another. Our power is not the power to destroy, but to modify."
The old man tossed away the rose. As soon as the flower left his hand, it vanished into the evening twilight."The power to modify? That is not something unique to Japan. Take, for instance, Greece, with its many gods, and the demon which dwells in that country— ”
"Pan is dead,20 and can no longer be revived. Yet we are still alive, as we are."
Padre Organtino glanced curiously at the old man's face.
"You know of Pan?"
"Yes, I read about Pan in a horizontally-written book brought back from Europe by the lords of Western Japan.21 — But as I was saying, even if the power to modify is not limited to this country, you should still be cautious. Our gods are old divinities, like the Greek gods, who saw the dawn of the world."
"But our Lord will win," Padre Organtino said stubbornly.
The old man continued slowly, as if he had not heard Padre Organtino speak. "Just four or five days ago I met a sailor from Greece who had landed at a coast in Kyūshū. Whether he was a god or a man, it is hard to say.
"As I sat with the sailor on a rock under the light of the moon, he told me various tales. They included the tale of a one-eyed god who captured him, the tale of a goddess who turned men into pigs, the tale of a mermaid with a beautiful voice, and so on. Do you know the name of this man? Perhaps you do. In his homeland he was Odysseus, but since coming here, he adopted the name Yuriwaka.22 So, you also must be careful. You cannot say your Lord will always win. The teachings of your God will not ultimately prevail, no matter how widely they may spread. ”
The old man's voice was quiet.
"It may happen that your God adapts himself to Japan. The philosophies of China and India have changed over time. The Lord of Europe must also change, if he is to survive. Gods lurk in our trees, in our shallow streams, in the breezes that sigh over roses, and in the evening light reflected from this temple's wall. They are ever-present, anywhere and anytime. I beg you to be careful for your own good, and your own safety..."
The old man's voice faded away, and no trace of his passage behind Padre Organtino remained. He dissolved into the air like so much mist and dream. The tolling of bells echoed from the steeple of the Nanban Church. Padre Organtino recognized the tune —Ave Maria—but he did not smile. His frown remained fixed in place as he walked back to the church.
Chapter 4
That same evening, Padre Organtino read De Imitatione Christi23 in the light of a candle. He was in a small room in the living quarters of the church. On the wall, there was a poorly colored fresco depicting The Last Supper. Padre Organtino’s desk was on the opposite side of the room’s only large window, so the light of the candle was dim. Wind sighed through the trees as Padre Organtino turned pages restlessly, the quietness surrounding him feeling as heavy as a shroud.
The spring night wore on with Padre Organtino sitting at the desk, reading and thinking. He tried to keep his mind occupied with religious texts, but it kept wandering back to the strange man he had spoken to that day. "The devil makes work for idle hands — and idle thoughts. Pray to be busy!"24 He mumbled the adage of Saint Jerome at the page he was reading.
Soon, weariness overcame him. Padre Organtino indulged in idle reverie, resting his cheeks in his hands.
"Are the spirits in this country the same as Pan of Greece ? Are they similar to, say, the centaur, written about in the biography of Saint Anthony? The old man I met today did not show reverence to the Lord, but he still held reverence for some kind of god...But that’s impossible. Anyhow, I will brief the Head Church in Rome regarding the illusion I saw last night. There are many of my brethren stationed in the East. Perhaps I am not the only one who has witnessed such a strange thing... Are the cocks crowing once again?"
Trembling, Organtino snuffed the candle out. As the light of dawn became lighter, the faces of Jesus and his disciples became vivid on the fresco before him.
"I need not fear any evil, so long as I am in the presence of this fresco. There is the face of Jesus, who sits in front of the window, and the fig tree outside—oh, wasn't it a fig tree?"
Organtino snapped his mouth shut, confused and exhausted. The rectangular window behind Jesus usually showed a fig tree, but when he looked at it now, he saw the the blossoms of a weeping cherry tree illuminated in the twilight. And that was not the only change: the expression of Jesus's face looked somehow altered, surrounded by a halo. Padre Organtino took in the painting from top to bottom, then picked up the candle from the top of his desk and approached the wall. He carefully observed the fresco, which was so poorly colored that it was difficult, at times, to tell if his eyes were playing tricks on him or not.
"It's strange. Peter's face looks like the old man's face—the one I met. How could the spirit of this country change the appearance of our Lord Jesus?"
The next change to the painting was sudden and very obvious. As Padre Organtino leaned in to observe Peter more closely, the man in the painting turned his wrinkled face in his direction. Organtino took a reflexive step backward. Cold sweat dripped down his spine. The image of Peter on the wall smiled and winked at him.
Encouraged by this seeming friendliness, Padre Organtino approached the wall once again, raising the candle, and solemnly spoke to Peter.
"In the name of God, Lord of Heaven and Earth, I ask you: who are you?"
Then Jesus, the halo shining brightly around his head, uttered an answer similar to something Padre Organtino might have found in a Buddhist sutra.
"He is my shadow; I am the light."
The smiling Peter spoke to Jesus from the side. "My Lord, why show Thyself only to us, and not to the world?"
Jesus answered, "If people love me, I shall keep all my promises. I shall come and make my abode with them. I say unto you, child, that I was with you for a while. I shall not let you be orphaned. I shall come unto you again."
"My Lord, where did you go? Where are you now?" Peter asked.
"You cannot follow me to the place where I have gone," Jesus said. “But do not be afraid. You and I shall one day be together at the place where I am. You do not see me now, but if I am alive, you also shall dwell with me."
The twelve disciples in the fresco all spoke at once: "My Lord, Amaterasu! We will be together with you..."
Padre Organtino dropped his candle. It left a trail of fire in the darkness as it fell. At that very moment, he saw Jesus's face change into that of a beautiful woman. He heard cries of, "Hosanna! Oh Hosanna! Hosanna in the highest! By the name of Amaterasu, we shall be happy. Hosanna! ..."
Chapter 5
Padre Organtino of the Nanban Church— but no, it was not Organtino. A long-nosed Western priest adjusted the sleeves of his long robe and quietly left the garden where laurel trees and roses grew in the evening twilight. He went to view a pair of three-hundred-year-old folding screens that depicted the arrival of a ship that had taken missionaries away from Japan's shores.25
Goodbye, Padre Organtino! The Western priest saw him on the screen, walking together with his brethren along the seashore. Padre Organtino was looking at a ship with its flag hoisted. In the background, a misty haze was painted in gold spackle. The captain of the ship walked a black dog along the deck. A little Black boy leaned over the side of the ship, holding an umbrella.
Whether God will win or Amaterasu is not easy to judge, even now. Perhaps future generations will know for certain. If only the screen were two-way, so that Padre Organtino might see us, gazing back from the seashore of the past.
The Western priest imagined the sounds of the cannon on the black ship sailing along the horizon, like an echo or a distant dream.
Goodbye, Padre Organtino! Farewell!
THE END
Translator's Notes
I am indebted to Masatoshi Iguchi, whose textual notes proved invaluable throughout the translation process.
1 Gnecchi-Soldo Organtino (1530 – 1609)
was a Jesuit missionary who came to Japan during the Portuguese Era.
Born in Cast di Brescia in northern Italy, he became a priest at the age
of 22. After serving in Genoa for some years, he was sent to Kyōto via
Malacca in 1570. He learned Japanese, adapted to Japanese customs,
eating rice instead of bread, and wore Japanese clothes. He also studied
Buddhist teachings, especially the Lotus Sutra. Organtino won the trust
of Oda Nobunaga and built a new Nanban Church (see below) in Kyōto and a
seminary under Azuchi Castle. After Toyotomi Hideyoshi seized power and
issued a decree to expel foreign missionaries, Organtino's activities
became difficult. He died in 1609 at the age of 79, from illness.↩
2 Nanban Church (南蛮寺) is a name applied
to spaces or structures used by Christian missionaries and Japanese
Christian converts in the early history of the Catholic Church in
Japan.The kanji literally mean "of/for the southern barbarians"; such
churches were present in Kyōto, Nagasaki, Hirado, Azuchi, Osaka,
Kanazawa, Sunpu, and Edo. Many Nanban Churches were destroyed due to
Toyotomi Hideyoshi's 1588 edict against Christians in Japan.↩
3 The rabeca or rabeca chuleira is a
fiddle originating in Portugal, and is still played in Portugal and
Northeastern Brazil. It is most commonly used in Brazilian forró music
and morna, a type of folk music played on Cape Verde. The instrument is
descended from the medieval rebec.↩
4 This is not a real hymn. Scholarly
sources indicate that Akutagawa may have pulled this title from a book
of Bulgarian songs compiled by C.F. Morse called
A Grammar of the Bulgarian Languages: With Exercises and English and
Bulgarian Vocabularies.
The relevant passage is as follows: "The song of the nightingale is
pleasant, Honour is the reward of virtue, The eyes are the mirror of the
soul, The branches of the trees bend under the burden of fruits."↩
5 Jude 1-9: "Yet Michael the archangel,
when contending with the devil he disputed about the body of Moses,
durst not bring against him a railing accusation, but said, The Lord
rebuke thee." (KJV)↩
6 Exodus 15: 3-5 "The Lord is a man of
war: the Lord is his name. Pharaoh's chariots and his host hath he cast
into the sea: his chosen captains also are drowned in the Red Sea. The
depths have covered them: they sank into the bottom as a stone." (KJV)↩
7 These dancers and figures are Japanese
gods. The name of the dancer is Ame-no-Uzume (天鈿女命). The man in the
next sentence is Ame-no-Tajikarao(天手力雄神).
↩
8 Amaterasu (天照大御神, 天照大神) is the
goddess of the sun in Japanese mythology. She is a major goddess in the
Shinto religion, considered to be one of the three most important
offspring of the creator god Izanagi. Amaterasu's chief place of
worship, the Grand Shrine of Ise, is one of Shinto's holiest sites and a
major pilgrimage center and tourist spot.
↩
9 Genesis 6:1-2 "And it came to pass, when
men began to multiply on the face of the earth, and daughters were born
unto them, That the sons of God saw the daughters of men were fair; and
they took them wives of all which they chose." (KJV)↩
10 This refers to Saint Anthony the Great
(251-356 AD). Depictions in art show Saint Anthony being tempted or
assailed in the desert by demons, whose temptations he resisted. There
is evidence that Akutagawa read
La Tentation de Saint Antoine (The Temptation of St. Anthony), by
Gustave Flaubert, written in 1874.↩
11 Kakinomoto no Hitomaro (柿本人麻呂,
ca. 660-724 AD) was a famous poet honored as the Sage Poet, along with
Yamabe no Akahito (山部赤人). He left behind 75 short-poems and 19
long-poems; Tanabata, referenced in the text, is among the most
famous.↩
12 The Tanabata myth is about two
star-crossed lovers that the Japanese adapted from China. Kengiu and
Shokujo are the Chinese names of the lovers; Hikoboshi and Tanabatatsume
(or Orihime) are their Japanese names.↩
13 Kukai (空海) 774-835 AD: The founder
of the Tendai Sect of Buddhism; Daufū (道風) 894-967 AD: A noble; Sari
(佐理), 994-998 AD: A courtier, and Kauzei (公成), 999-1042: A courtier.
All of them are known as master calligraphers.↩
14 Wang Xizhi (王羲之) and Chu Suiliang
(褚遂良) are considered masters of Chinese calligraphy.↩
15 Shinato (科戸) is a Japanese god of
the wind.↩
16 Honji Suijaku (本地垂迹): The Theory
of Syncretic Manifestation; literally "the theory of original reality
and manifested traces."Cf. Kosuke Nishitani, Understanding Japaneseness:
A Fresh Look at Nipponjinron through "Maternal-filial Affection”, Rowman
& Littlefield, 2016.↩
17 Shinran (親鸞), 1173-1263 AD and
Nichiren (日蓮), 1222-1282 AD were the founders of the Pure Land Sect
and Nichiren Sect of Buddhism, respectively.↩
18 In Hindu tradition, the sal tree is
said to be favored by Vishnu. Its name shala, shaal or sal, comes from
Sanskrit śāla, literally "house," a name that suggests it for housing
timber; other names in the Sanskrit language are ashvakarna, chiraparna
and sarja, among many others.↩
19 Prince Shōtoku (聖徳太子, 574 – 622)
was a semi-legendary politician of the Asuka period of Japan who served
under Empress Suiko. He is renowned for modernizing the government and
for promoting Buddhism in Japan.↩
20 Pan, in Greek mythology, is a
fertility god. Plutarchus wrote that during the reign of Tiberius, the
crew of a ship sailing near Greece heard a voice calling out, "The Great
Pan is dead." Christians took this episode to be simultaneous with the
death of Christ.↩
21 There were four young Japanese
Christians despatched to Europe from 1582-1590 on behalf of three
Christian lords in Kyūshū. They brought back with them a typographical
printing machine, religious items and books. The mission was called the
Tenshō Embassy to Europe. ↩
22 This refers to Yuriwaka Daijin
(百合若大臣, lit. General Yuriwaka), a Japanese folk hero. A common
version of the story is as follows: A minister and the governor of
Chikushi, Yuriwaka was appointed the general/admiral to counterattack
the Kublai Khan’s marines when they came to invade Hakata, in Chikushi
(1277?). Yuriwaka led an expedition to chase after the Mongolian’s
vessels which were retreating, damaged by a typhoon, and successfully
won the victory, killing the enemy’s four admirals. But, on his way
back, when his fleet stopped to rest at the Isle of Genkai, he was
betrayed by his subordinates, the Beppu brothers (別府兄弟), and
marooned there. The brothers gave a false report that Yuriwaka was
killed during the battle. They not only usurped the position of Yuriwaka
but approached his wife with propositions of marriage. Yuriwaka's eagle,
named Midorimaru (緑丸), freed by his wife, flew to the sea and brought
back her husband’s short message written with his blood on a leaf. As
Yuriwaka’s wife prayed at Usa Shrine, a fisherman from the Bay of Iki
discovered Yuriwaka on the island and sent him back to Hakata. The Beppu
brothers were unable to recognize Yuriwaka, because he was in disguise,
and employed him. In an archery contest held at Usa Shrine, Yuriwaka
named himself and shot the traitors to death. Thus, Yuriwaka and his
wife were reunited. ↩
23 First written by Thomas a Kempis in
Latin ca. 1418–1427. ↩
24 Saint Jerome, also known as Eusebius
Sophronius Hieronymus, was an early Christian monk.
↩
25 In history, Padre Organtino remained
in Japan until his death and did not continue his missionary travels.↩
No comments:
Post a Comment