Yôkai: Monsters, Giant Catfish, & Symbolic Representation in Popular Culture

Chapter Eight

Yōkai: Monsters, Giant Catfish, & Symbolic Representation in Popular Culture

This chapter brings together previous material while also exploring new topics. We begin with a brief history of monsters in the popular Japanese imagination at approximately the time of the Tokugawa period. This overview is not comprehensive but focuses on the three most common varieties of monsters: oni 鬼, tengu 天狗, and animal tricksters (foxes [kitsune] 狐 and badger-dogs [tanuki] 狸). With this overview in place, we turn our attention to an examination of one peculiar and complex variety of monstrous creatures, the giant catfish known as namazu 鯰. Through the lens of namazu-related lore, we examine popular religious beliefs, anxieties, values, art, and the broader political context of Japan during the turbulent period of ca. 1830-1900. We finish by examining the role of classical Japanese monster symbolism in depictions of the Anglo-American enemy during the Pacific War years, late 1941-1945.

Yōkai 妖怪: the Realm of the Uncanny

The term yōkai is often rendered "monster" in English, which is adequate. The English term, however, emphasizes an externally existing entity, but the Japanese term often puts stress on the mental state of the perceiver. Komatsu Kazuhiko, a scholar of yōkai, defines the term as "an abnormal phenomenon, or a related thing or entity." He finds it useful to divide distinguish between two types of yōkai: 1) uncanny phenomena (yōkai genshō 妖怪現象) and 2) specific monsters such as demons, goblins, giant spiders, or whatever (yōkai sonzai 妖怪存在) (#more details#). The former type emphasizes the mental state of the perceiver. Let us consider some examples of each type of yōkai.

Uncanny phenomena. You are alone in your apartment studying late on a dark, stormy night. Lightning flashes, illuminating the room, followed by a burst of thunder so loud you can feel the vibrations. As the noise fades, you realize the TV is on, but you know it was not on before. "Some strange electrical phenomenon" you rationalize as you go to turn it off. A few nights later, however, you find the TV on when you arrive home, but you are sure it was not on when you left. Your mind recalls the stormy night and you feel slightly ill at ease.

You are seated on the commode in profound contemplation but suddenly feel something gently touching your rear end. "A rat!" you think, as you struggle to remove yourself from the fixture. When you look back, however, there is no sign of any rat or other such creature to be found. In Japanese lore of the Tokugawa period, you have encountered is a specific yōkai-like phenomenon, often called "kainade" (怪撫で, literally "uncanny patting"). The perpetrator is, presumably, one of the several mysterious beings thought to dwell in and around toilets--but who knows for sure? Kainade is an example of uncanny phenomena connected with the sense of touch.

An example of uncanny sounds would be tanuki-bayashi (狸囃子, literally "badger-dog accompaniment"). In this case, in the dead of night, a lone person suddenly hears the sound of festival drums. But the drums sound a little odd, and the sound seems to have come out of nowhere and its direction is hard to pinpoint. Surprised, the hearer tries to get a fix on the sound, but it fades away. There is no festival or any other occasion for drumming anywhere nearby. What is going on? According to Japanese lore, the drumming is that of an animal trickster known as a tanuki. A tanuki is a #real animal,# which is closely related to dogs although it looks something like a raccoon or badger (#another example#). In the popular imagination, #tanuki# have large bellies. Furthermore, they are nearly always depicted as males with huge scrotums (#another example#). Indeed, children in Japan today are likely to be able to sing a one-verse song ditty that goes: Tan, tan, tanuki no kintama wa; kaze ni fukarete bura bura (features onomatopoeia, but, roughly: "The tanuki's balls are blown back and forth by the wind"). Anyway, the eerie sound of mysterious drumming at night was thought to be the result of one or more tanuki drumming on their bellies or (ouch) *scrotums.*

And in the realm of sight, a good example of uncanny phenomena would be kitsune-bi 狐火, which literally means foxfire (which happens to be an accurate term in English, in addition to will-o'-the-wisp). This phenomenon manifests itself as a phosphorescent, golden or orange glow in wooded areas or swamps at night. In Japanese lore, it is thought to be connected with foxes as they transform from one shape to another--shape shifting being one of their characteristics. Sometimes, this foxfire takes on an enchanting quality, and leads night-time travelers astray.

(Of course we modern people, being scientific and rational, would never believe in such explanations or the phenomena behind them. We have no need, for example, for exorcisms, psychics, astrologers, and the like, and we are highly skeptical about such things as #extra-terrestrial visitations,# #patent medicines,# or #skunk apes# or even the penis enlargement ads that bombard our e-mail inboxes: "Three inches in three months without dangerous stretching exercises!? You're not fooling me. That's impossible!" Isn't it great to be modern! By the way, try an internet search for any of the terms mentioned here or similar ones--astrology, exorcism, skunk ape, UFO, healing cloth, etc.--and see what turns up. And, of course, let us not forget the recently-emerged social and political monsters and the various reactions to them [#"Monsters Under the Bed"#].)

Specific monsters. Japan is and has been home to a #wide variety of monsters.# As in most cultures, these monsters--being creations of the human imagination--typically resembled people, other animals, or well-known objects. Perhaps the most common formula for creating a monster was to exaggerate some part of the human anatomy. For example, elongating a woman's neck so that it resembles a snake results in a monster called *rokuro-kubi* 飛頭蛮 (*another example 1*). Another way to create monsters is to take ordinary objects and make them come alive, often by adding human-like limbs, faces, etc. to them. This process is facilitated by the general belief that as people, other animals, or even inanimate things age, they are inclined to become ever more like yōkai. Foxes, for example, cannot perform their shape-shifting tricks until they are several hundred years old. Likewise, inanimate objects of very old vintage are subject to becoming the abode of spirits who animate these objects. Typically, such monstrous objects appear inanimate most of the time, but emerge at night or at other times when people are not around *to frolic in consort with other such yōkai-objects.*

Japanese monsters probably reached a peak of variety, creativity, and popularity during the late Tokugawa period, though they remain highly popular today, especially in animation and comics. If we move back in time to the Heian Period, we find that this rich variety of monsters is lacking. Instead, there were three main types of monsters: oni, tengu, and the animal tricksters foxes and tanuki. During the late Kamakura period, the variety of yōkai began to expand. In every period from Heian onward, the increasing variety of monsters notwithstanding, oni, tengu, and the animal tricksters have remained a mainstay of Japanese monster lore. Therefore, let us focus more closely on these three classic varieties of yōkai.

Oni. The term *oni* is usually translated as "devil" or "demon" or something similar, which is adequate but not perfect. In today's popular culture, "oni" comprises all or part of the name of several rock bands, #computer games,# #animation episodes,# and so forth. In trying to figure out the major characteristics of the classical oni, let us start with the following description by Juliann Wolfgram:

Throughout Japanese folklore, legend, and religious apocrypha, certain supernatural beings called oni exist which incarnate universal forces, sometimes beneficial but most often destructive to the human world. Easily moving between the realms of the living and the dead, these demonic spirits often interact with luckless humans. For Japanese artists, oni became a means to depict not only malignant supernatural forces, but one side of the inherent nature of mankind as well. ("Oni: The Japanese Demon" in Stephen Addiss, ed., Japanese Ghosts & Demons: Art of the Supernatural [New York: George Braziller, Inc., 1985], p. 91.)

Although most definitions of oni correctly point out that these beings can be both destructive or beneficial, the earliest accounts of oni suggest that in Heian times, they were regarded only as destructive. They devoured people or caused them to become sick or injured, and Heian-vintage oni were almost always associated with the smell of blood, dark clouds, thunderstorms, and other destructive images or phenomena. There is strong evidence from literary sources, including diaries, that Heian aristocratic men and women believed in the existence of oni and feared them. Oni typically appeared to resemble humans, at least roughly, but usually featured one or more horns on their heads as well as such attributes as one large eye (or sometimes three or more eyes) and various animal features such as hooves, the head of a horse, et cetera.

The precise origin of the Heian-era oni is a matter of some speculation. One theory is that it came from #starving ghosts# (gaki 餓鬼), #hell wardens,# the kings of hell, and other such popular Buddhist images. Another theory is that oni were originally wayward, unruly kami. Of course, it is possible that oni originated from both of these sources. In any case, oni became entrenched in the popular imagination during the Kamakura period, as popular Buddhism gradually spread to the masses. There was a strong tendency at that time to associate oni with the infernal officials and wardens of Buddhist hell, and it is also common in contemporary Japanese depictions of Buddhist hell to portray the #hell wardens as oni.# Under certain circumstances, the spirits of the dead could become oni and thereby cause trouble in the world of the living.

One such example was #Sugawara-no-Michizane# (845-903), a great literary scholar and politician of the middle Heian period. He was a comparatively rare example of a non-Fujiwara aristocrat who rose to high rank. But he was eventually framed by the Fujiwara for offenses he did not commit. As a result of this political intrigue, Sugawara was banished to Dazaifu on the island of Kyushu, where he died soon after arriving. At least according to legend, not long after his death, a *fierce thunder-kami* began to wreak havoc back in the capital. Because the victims of this divine wrath were mainly those who had slandered Sugawara, the Fujiwara leaders quickly came to the conclusion that it was the ghost of Sugawara turned into an oni (#see and hear the whole story#).

To solve this problem, Sugawara was posthumously awarded the highest court rank, made into a deity (kami) of scholarship and literature, and worshipped as such at a series of shrines. These measures put an end to the destruction. And to this day, in the form of Tenma Tenjin 天満天神, the kami of scholarship and literature, Sugawara's spirit continues to reign benevolently, helping students pass exams (provided they go to the appropriate shrine, ask for divine assistance in the proper manner, and, most importantly, throw money into the donation box).

The example of Sugawara becoming a benevolent kami is perhaps the earliest example of an oni taking on benevolent characteristics. As time went on, it became common for oni to be portrayed as potentially both destructive or benevolent, depending on circumstances. As we shall see in a later section, this characteristic figured prominently in popular Japanese images of the Anglo-American enemy during the Second World War and during its immediate aftermath.

Tengu. The origins of tengu probably go back to China in terms of the basic shape of this creature. It was during the Heian period, among monks of the Tendai and Shingon sects of Buddhism, that tengu made their fist appearances in Japan. The word *tengu* is often translated as "goblin," which is probably as good as any other term, but tells us rather little about the characteristics of tengu. In terms of physical appearance, tengu tend to fall into one of two varieties. First are tengu that look like a cross between a bird and a person. Others lack the obvious bird-like features and are thus closer to humans. Tengu of this latter type are usually distinguishable from humans by their *abnormally long noses.* Sometimes a beak substitutes for a nose in the bird-like variety. An important feature of both types of tengu is that they are usually dressed as mountain monks (yamabushi 山伏, literally "those who lay down in the mountains"). The ringed staff is one of the obvious monk-like accouterments.

Tengu were closely connected with certain forms of Buddhism. The following passages by Pat Fister nicely sum up the major characteristics and roles of tengu in premodern Japan:

Like foxes and tanuki, . . . tengu could change themselves into men, women, or children and play malicious tricks on people. Those people who unknowingly intruded upon tengu territory often met with bizarre circumstances, but this did not frighten away devoted mountain priests, who entered into the sacred mountains and forests of Japan with the hopes of learning the secrets underlying the magical powers of the tengu. In turn, the tengu would sometimes assume the shape of these mountain priests, and depictions of the goblins in this guise are among the most popular representations of tengu in Japanese art. ("Tengu, the Mountain Goblin," in Addiss, ed., Japanese Ghosts and Demons, p. 103.)

Furthermore:

Some scholars believe that tengu derived from the Buddhist guardian deity Garuda, who was introduced to Japan from India via China along with the rest of the Buddhist pantheon. . . . In many of these tales, tengu were portrayed as enemies of Buddhism. Tengu could transform themselves into the appearance of Buddhas, priests, or nuns in order too delude people, especially other priests. Appearing the guise of Buddhist clergy, tengu would attempt to trick others into following the wrong path. Numerous tales exist of tengu attempting to hinder the religious devotion of priests . . . In addition they were believed to be the cause of fires at Buddhist temples. . . . The concept of the “tengu road” was developed by Buddhist priests in the twelfth century as a special punishment for vain and hypocritical priests. Numerous legends remain from that time in which bad priests became tengu and were forced to lead the rest of their lives as miserable mountain goblins. (Ibid., pp. 103-104.)

So tengu were much like oni, but they tended to prey on Buddhist clerics in the mountains and rarely killed their victims. Instead, they tended to be tricksters, and, like the trickster animals, tengu were capable of appearing in the guise of humans. Until approximately the fourteenth century, tengu were always portrayed as malevolent. But, like oni, tengu gradually came to be regarded and portrayed as creatures capable of both bad and good deeds. Some good tengu even morphed into guardians of Buddhist temples and monestaries. Furthermore, as Fister points out above, the magical powers that tengu allegedly possessed came to be sought after by some humans. This legacy remains today in the form of the word "tengu" being part of the name of many martial arts training facilities.

One interesting use of the tengu motif was in the depiction of certain foreigners during the nineteenth century. Perhaps the best example is *Commodore Perry* and his crews during their visits to Japan in 1853 and 1854. There was an active tabloid press in all of Japan's major cities by this time, and sketch artists often depicted Perry with tengu-like features. Although in a superficial sense, such depictions were obvious distortions, as symbolic representation, they are quite accurate. Perry arrived from a distant land in powerful, awesome-looking "black ships." He and his crew behaved in ways that Japanese observers would have regarded as strange, and, of course, he was there to intimidate the bakufu into signing a treaty. He was, therefore, a menacing presence with the potential to do serious harm. But, like "real" tengu, the knowledge and power that Perry possessed was something that could be learned, and, possibly, applied for beneficial purposes as well. We will see more about how Perry and his visit was depicted in a later section of this chapter.

Throughout most of the Tokugawa period, *depictions of European foreigner* by Japanese artists were typically realistic in terms of depictions of facial features, clothing, and so forth, and they rarely if ever included the features of tengu or other yōkai. It was not until the mid to late nineteenth century that these foreigners had a major impact on life in Japan. And, at that time, foreigners' *noses began to grow accordingly* in many depictions. An interesting twist on this theme can be seen in an ad for *Tengu cigarettes.* In it, the exoticness of tobacco, foreigners, and tengu are blended together--along with some nudity--to sell cigarettes.

Trickster Animals--Foxes and Tanuki. The notion that foxes are apt to turn into human form and thereby deceive people in various ways came to Japan form China. Indeed, the notion of foxes as tricksters is common in may cultures thought the world (#Fox lore and tales#). In Chinese lore, it was also possible for fox spirits to possess people, always with bad results, though fox possession was somewhat less common in Japan. Still, the deception that foxes could perpetrate often came with tragic results, and humans under the influences of foxes almost always became ill in some way. One very common motif in folk tales of both Japan and China was that of a fox taking on the *appearance of a beautiful woman* and thereby seducing unwary men (#contemporary artist's portrayal#). Brenda Jordan describes the fox's yōkai-like characteristics as follows:

Kitsune [foxes] are known to hypnotize men, seduce them, create illustrations with which to trick them, or lure them to places where they might come to some harm. *Fox Fire,* by Andō Hiroshige, illustrates what is known to Western culture as will-o’-the-wisp. Kitsune bi (fox fire) is the term for a light made by foxes to lead a man astray from the road on which he is traveling. ("The Trickster in Japan: Tanuki and Kitsune," in Addiss, ed., Japanese Ghosts and Demons, pp. 136-137.)

Recall that young foxes were not thought to be capable of such transformations, so artistic representations of foxes often depict small ones looking like foxes along with one or more larger, older ones having morphed into some degree of human features (#contemporary example#). In such depictions, the young foxes are often portrayed as preparing for or looking forward to the day when they, too, would be able to transform themselves. Because of foxes' propensity for transforming into the shape of beautiful, seductive women and playing tricks on humans, they are a common feature in contemporary animation.

We have already taken a brief look at tanuki, so there is no need to go into much more detail here. They were thought to have the same transformative powers and trickster-like propensities as foxes, except that they were almost always depicted as male. Therefore, tanuki did not usually turn into beautiful women to perform their tricks (although such a transformation would theoretically be possible). More commonly, tanuki morphed into Buddhist monks (like tengu). They were also known to perform all sorts of amazing feats with their huge scrotums. Another characteristic of tanuki is their fondness for alcoholic beverages. Therefore, it is common to find #statues of tanuki,# jug in one hand and scrotum hanging down to the ground, outside the entrances to bars throughout Japan.

Namazu (Giant Catfish): A Special Case of Yōkai

Before reading this section, as a preview, study "Catfish in Japanese Culture":

<<PDF>>

Having surveyed the common types of yōkai and some of the cultural beliefs and phenomena associated with them, let us turn our attention to the yōkai known as namazu. Although there really are various types of catfish in Japan, which more-or-less resemble the namazu of visual art, the size of namazu in folklore and popular imagination tends to be much larger than anything found in nature. Namazu range in form and function from being #actual catfish# inhabiting the rivers and lakes of Japan (#despite some claims# of a definitive match, there is probably no specific species that corresponds to the name namazu), to mythological giant catfish, and even to literary, artistic, #religious# and political symbols and objects of contemporary popular culture. Throughout much of Japan's history, people associated with natural disasters and a general state of disorder in the balance of cosmic forces. Later, during the eighteenth century, urban dwellers began to associate namazu specifically with earthquakes. Let us now briefly trace the evolution of the idea of namazu in Japanese folk religion and lore. (Much of the material in this section is based on the articles in Miyata Noboru 宮田登 and Takata Mamoru 高田衛, eds., Namazu-e: Jishin to Nihon bunka 鯰絵：地震と日本文化 [Satofumi shuppan, 1995]. In English there is only one major source, Cornelis Ouwehand's very thorough, Namazu-e and Their Themes: An Interpretative Approach to Some Aspects of Japanese Folk Religion [Leiden, Netherlands: E. J. Brill, 1964].)

By the late Tokugawa period, namazu-related lore had become especially widespread in urban areas, and ideas about what namazu did or might do had become relatively uniform throughout most parts of Japan. During the Kamakura and Muromachi periods, we find namazu-related myths and folklore here and there throughout the Japanese islands, but without any uniform sense of the role of namazu in nature and human society.

One early variety of namazu lore is “mono-iu sakana” 物言う魚, in which namazu are able to speak or turn into human form and transmit messages to people. This motif was common around and along lakes, rivers, marshes, and other bodies of water. It assumed as a premise that namazu were not ordinary fish, but rulers of the realm of water. Folktales would feature namazu and sometimes other large fish. A fisherman or other human(s) would impinge on the domain of the namazu and try to catch it. In response, the namazu would become human, try to pass on a message to the fisherman or others to stop. If the attempt at communication failed and the fish was killed, because the namazu was the ruler of the realm of water, some curse or punishment would come forth from heaven—a flood, for example.

There was another early motif, the message of which was, "Do not eat namazu!" One example is the legend of the origin of the Yodohime 淀姫 Shrine (also sometimes pronounced Yodahime or Yotahime). To make a long story short, there was a huge snake that killed people at night from time to time. A parent and child were in a boat fishing one night and the snake came upon them. They prayed to heaven for help, and, after a few moments, they realized all had quieted down but that there was a large fish on shore. It was a namazu with a swollen belly. When they cut it open they found that it had swallowed the snake. The local villagers had a funeral for the namazu and forbade the eating of namazu out of gratitude. To not eat namazu is the pledge of the Yodohime Shrine.

At the Fushimi Shrine in Chikushi-gun in Fukuoka-ken, Yodohime is also the enshrined deity. A river runs in front of the shrine and there is a deep gorge in one area called “Namazu Kamado” 鯰かまど (namazu furnace). Legend has it that namazu live at the bottom and they swim up to the surface topresage major upheavals, for example, Tokugawa Ieyasu’s destruction of Osaka castle in 1615 and the Shimabara Rebellion of 1637. The notion of a “namazu (no) kamado” (or a “namazu kama”) is common in late medieval folktales texts. It indicates an area in which a group of namazu live. They are rarely seen by people, but, when they do appear, they often presage some kind of natural upheaval, typically an impending flood. And there is a legend with a similar message in the region of #Lake Biwa# (see the discussion of Chikubushima below). In short, in these sorts of legends, namazu were sagely creatures who could foretell natural disasters, had spiritual powers, or were agents of deities. Notice especially that the appearance of namazu became associated with natural upheavals in medieval Japan. Later, this association would become specific to earthquakes, and by the middle of the nineteenth century, many Japanese regarded a giant, subterranean namazu as the cause of earthquakes. (For English summaries of namazu-related legends that reinforce points in the preceding three paragraphs, see Ouwehand, Namazu-e and Their Themes, pp. 72-79.)

By the late Muromachi period, namazu had become firmly associated with unrest and upheaval, though not specifically with earthquakes. Around 1413, the shōgun, Ashikaga Yoshimochi, commissioned the artist Josetsu to produce a now famous painting that exemplifies the Zen Buddhist idea that one's mind cannot be grasped. The result was *Hyōnenzu* 瓢鮎図, which means literally "Illustration of catching a namazu (鮎 in this case, not the usual 鯰) with a gourd." This complex painting features, in the foreground, a *ragged looking man* trying to catch or hold down a catfish with a smooth bottle gourd. The namazu has moved into relatively open water and is about to enter a wide area overgrown with weeds. Catching it or pinning it down with a gourd seems to be impossible, and, indeed, today the image of pinning down a catfish with a gourd is a well-establish metaphor for doing the impossible. At the time the painting was created, however, the range of possible meanings of its rich symbolism was quite wide, and interpreting this painting thoroughly requires a book-length study (and there is one: Shimao Arata 島尾新, Josetsu-hitsu hyōnenzu: hyōtan-namazu no ikonorojii 『如拙筆、瓢鮎図：ひょうたんなまずのイコノロジー』, [Tokyo: Heibonsha, 1995]). Here is the key point to bear in mind for our purposes: Hyōnenzu is the earliest known example of the image of pinning down a catfish with a gourd or other object. Before continuing, take a quick look at this *nineteenth-century variation on Hyōnenzu,* which also reviews a point from earlier in this chapter about tanuki.

At about the same time that Joestsu was painting Hyōnenzu, an obscure tale of local miraculous and supernatural occurrences was undergoing revisions that would make it moderately well known among aristocratic readers in fifteenth-century Kyōto. This tale was the Chikubushima engi 竹生島縁起, and it purported to tell the origins of Chikubushima, a small island in Lake Biwa, near Kyōto. One aspect of the legend explaining the creation of this island is that it floats on the water without being rooted into the earth. In this respect, Chikubushima closely resembles the ancient Japanese creation myth of Izanagi and Izanami standing on the floating bridge of Heaven and dipping the jewel spear into the brine. The relationship between Chikubushima and Lake Biwa is analogous to that of the Japanese islands and the ocean. And what is underneath this island, wrapped around its circumference? Yes, a giant namazu. Actually, the story in the Chikubushima engi is a little more complex. What seems to have happened is that ancient, Chinese-derived legends of a giant ocean-dwelling dragon supporting the earth influenced the Chikubushima story. Because of the freshwater environment, however, and because large catfish live in Lake Biwa, the dragon morphed into a namazu. Generally speaking dragons and namazu were interchangeable in many premodern Japanese texts. Indeed, many illustrated texts show a dragon surrounding the Japanese islands in the picture, but call it a "namazu" in the accompanying text. Finally, recall in the above paragraphs the discussion of namazu as sagely messenger fish. A type of yellow catfish in Lake Biwa is known as "Benzai-namazu" around Chikubushima. Benzai is a deity of good fortune, and the yellow catfish is thought to be his messenger. It seems that the revised Chikubushima engi is the earliest text (ca. 1415) to mention the idea of a giant catfish supporting a land mass on which people dwell.

Moving into the middle of the eighteenth century, we find indications that, among urban dwellers in Edo and some of the other large cities, namazu are starting to be associated with earthquakes in the popular imagination. The Japanese islands are volcanic and subject to frequent earthquakes, both large and small. Naturally, there developed many theories about what might cause earthquakes, and typical examples form around 1700 would have included: 1) the movement of a creature that supports the earth causes quakes: a) ox; b) dragon/snake; c) large fish; 2) the movement of a deity or giant supporting the earth causes quakes; 3) quakes occur when the pillar or band supporting the world is shaken or moved; 4) when male and female deities have sex, the earth quakes; 5) when an earthquake takes places, people yell “We are still alive!” and the ancestors or deities causing the quake stop it. The theory that namazu cause earthquakes, is, of course, an example of 1c, and it evolved out of an older theory that a large, subterranean dragon or dragon-snake was the culprit.

The idea that the movement of a giant dragon under the ground causes earthquakes came to Japan from China. It was a *prominent theory * during the seventeenth century. (Incidentally, there was an alternative explanation in which the movement of a giant pheasant located at the Kashima Shrine caused earthquakes.) During the eighteenth century, a giant namazu gradually replaced the giant dragon as the source of earthquakes in the popular imagination. Except for the change of animals, however, the details of the theory remained largely the same. Let us take a closer look at just exactly how a giant namazu causes earthquakes.

Geographically, we need to go to Kashima, which is near Tokyo on the Japan Sea coast. Located at Kashima is a prominent shrine, the *Kashima Shrine,* wherein is housed the kaname-ishi 要石. There is no standard term for kaname-ishi in English, but some possibilities are "foundation stone," "key stone," and "rivet stone." This stone--actually more like a boulder than a stone--helps hold the world together. Most of it is under the ground, but its top is visible. Located at the point farthest East in the main Japanese islands, some Japanese regarded Kashima as the main transit point for deities. Benevolent ones would enter the Japanese islands through Kashima and evil ones would, hopefully, leave via Kashima. In this context, the kaname-ishi served as a sort of defensive spiritual bulwark, which, ideally, helped keep the malevolent forces of nature in check. One of these forces was earthquakes.

For our purposes, the main function of the kaname-ishi was to pin down the head of a giant namazu that lives in subterranean waters deep within the earth. It is the movement of this namazu (or, in the seventeenth century, substitute a dragon for the namazu) that causes earthquakes. But the weight of the kaname-ishi alone is not sufficient to keep the catfish immobile. The Kashima Deity (Kashima daimyōjin 鹿島大明神) must lend a hand by pushing down on the kaname-ishi. Sometimes the *deity dozes*, is distracted, or has to be out of town for a meeting at the Izumo Shrine (really!). When out of town for a meeting, the deity Ebisu would fill in for the Kashima Deity, but he frequently lapsed in his vigilance. These lapses, reduced the downward pressure on the kaname-ishi, thus giving the namazu some wiggle room. The result was an earthquake, the intensity depending on the vigor with which the namazu moved around. Indeed, in the case of a major quake, it would seem that the Kashima Deity has, at least momentarily, *lost any control* of the situation. Sometimes, he was depicted as *trying to regain control* over the namazu. Eventually, of course, the quakes and aftershocks subside, a sign that the Kashima Deity was *back in control* after his lapse.

Based on the information we have seen thus far, it would be reasonable to assume that the namazu would always be depicted as an agent of mayhem and destruction. And, indeed, most images of namazu portray them this way. But what about *this image,* which is typical of a sub-genre of popular images about "world-rectifying namazu" (yo-naoshi namazu 世直し鯰). The term yo-naoshi (world-rectification) means to correct or reform a world (or society) that has become wayward and corrupt. A classic instance of world rectification in this sense would be an armed uprising against an evil regime. So, were earthquakes regarded as instances of world rectification? Yes, at least the large, destructive ones were so regarded by many urban dwellers during the late Tokugawa period. They regarded earthquakes as heaven-sent warnings, punishments, and/or the literal shaking up of a corrupt world in order to reform it. According to Miyata Noboru, among the residents of Edo there was a growing sense of foreboding during the nineteenth century because many regarded the creation of massive cities like Edo and Osaka to be contrary to the laws of nature. Therefore, nature would eventually bring these cities down, and an earthquake (plus its fiery aftermath) was the obvious mechanism for doing so. (Miyata and Takata, Namazu-e, p. 33.)

But the existence of large cities was only one possible reason for world rectification. The bakufu had grown ineffective and corrupt, as had most of the domain governments. The early nineteenth century was a time of frequent crop failures, famine, strange weather patterns, urban riots, and mass religious pilgrimages--often started by rumors of some sort of supernatural phenomenon--whose participants sometimes developing into unruly mobs. View this slide show, #Troubled Times in Japan, 1830 - 1868# to review these points:

<<PDF>>

Some of the urban riots were the result of the hoarding of basic commodities by unscrupulous merchants in an effort to create artificially high prices. In short, there were many reasons for ordinary urban dwellers to regard their world as needing radical rectification and thus teetering on the edge of one or more major heaven-sent calamities. One important point to bear in mind (and explored in the next section) is that many Japanese of the 1850s regarded Perry's expedition as part of this world-rectifying process.

If a major earthquake was a world-rectifying event, why did innocent people die, sustain injuries, and/or lose their homes and businesses? To use one of today's popular euphemisms, we might call such things "collateral damage." In other words, world-rectification is not a precise operation in which only the guilty suffer harm--earthquakes and fires are too crude for precision strikes. But they do get the job done, at least to some extent, and the namazu seem genuinely to regret the damage suffered by #the innocent.# Indeed, it is not unusual in namazu-related images to find depictions of namazu experiencing second thoughts or regret after seeing the effects of a major quake. One way to depict this point is to show *smaller namazu vigorously criticizing a giant namazu,* whose movements presumably caused the quake.

At this point it is useful to make a distinction between two different types of namazu: 1) earthquake namazu (jishin namazu 地震鯰) and 2) world-rectifying namazu (yo-naoshi namazu 世直し鯰). There is no rigid difference between the two, and you will sometimes notice exceptions to the characteristics explained here. In general, however, earthquake namazu appear in popular images as a single giant catfish with few if any human attributes (arms, legs, clothing, etc.). Furthermore, any image prominently featuring the kaname-ishi and/or the Kashima Deity is likely to be that of an earthquake namazu (although there are numerous exceptions in which the Kashima Deity presides over the work of world-rectifying namazu). Images of earthquake namazu typically seek to explain or depict the causes of earthquakes or to serve as *prayer offerings or talismans* to help *prevent further quakes* and aftershocks. Earthquake namazu symbolize the wild, destructive potential in nature.

By contrast, world-rectifying namazu typically appear as humans with catfish heads, and so one might also call them namazu-men (almost always male). They rarely appear along with the kaname-ishi, and they typically engage in human behaviors such as #working as craftsmen,# *selling medicine,* #dispensing medical care to quake victims,# shaking money out of the rich, and spreading wealth around to ordinary people. Let us examine these last two roles in more detail.

The most common depiction of world-rectifying namazu shows them re-distributing wealth in one way or another. For example, they are shown forcing the rich to *vomit or excrete money.* Think about the effects of a major earthquake on different social groups. Of course, the quake itself and the resulting fires would be #dangerous and terrifying# for anyone in society regardless of status or circumstances. And the aftershocks would likely cause even more damage over the course of the next day or several days. Soon, however, the recovery efforts would start. The recovery, of course, would include salvage operations, the hauling away of rubble, and rebuilding. Labor, both skilled and unskilled, would be in great demand. Nearly anyone willing to work at recovery-related would be able to find a job at a high wage, at least for a while, and skilled craftsmen would be in an especially favorable position. Who would pay these high wages? The wealthy urban dwellers, whose expensive homes and businesses would need repair or rebuilding. Of course, the homes of the laborers, too, might need rebuilding, but they would be able to afford doing so because of the abundant work at high pay.

The majority of the population of Edo and other large cities made their living through unskilled labor, through skilled craft work, or by operating small shops (including street vendors). Most of these occupations would have profited nicely from the post-quake recovery work. So, for the majority of urban dwellers, earthquakes, while terrifying and destructive, were also a boon for personal and family finances. It would have been like *money pouring out from the heavens* and into their hands. (Of course, not all commoner occupations benefited from the earthquake, and some namazu-e dealt with this issue as well as with the phenomenon of workers in the construction trades suddenly behaving arrogantly as a result of their sudden good fortune. #Click here# for more details.)

Finally, there was a strong sense that earthquakes, as destructive as they are in the short term, provide a strong impetus for society to regain its social and financial health. The thinking here extrapolates from common theories about human health. For a person to be physically healthy, the most important characteristic is that the flow of blood and vital essence (ki) be vigorous and unimpeded. Prevailing medical theories regarded disease as the result of a blockage in the flow of these fluids. Economists and social commentators of the Tokugawa period frequently likened the flow of wealth--especially metallic currency--throughout society to be the major factor in social health (#click here for more details#). Therefore, the activity of merchants was normally a good thing because they were the main agents of the exchange, and thus circulation, of goods and wealth. Large merchants, however, often amassed great stores of wealth, which would therefore not be available to circulate through the broader society. Furthermore, these merchants sometimes hoarded goods in an effort to raise prices by creating an artificial shortage. Such practices were a major cause of social unrest. Major earthquakes, therefore, would literally shake things up and get the stagnating piles of hoarded goods and wealth back into circulation, especially into the hands of ordinary people (review: #earthquakes as social medicine#).

Notice that namazu were complex symbols capable of expressing multiple meanings, ambiguities, contradictions (or apparent contradictions), and much more. The next section examines some of the more explicitly political symbolism of namazu.

Perry's "Black Ships" and the Ansei Quake of 1855

In looking at the events of the 1850s as recorded in the urban tabloid press, two stand out as especially prominent. The first event was the visits of Perry's fleet, the first in 1853 and the second in 1854. The following year, a massive earthquake struck *Edo and a wide area around it.* This destructive quake was the second big event of the 1850s. It is known as the Ansei Earthquake (or Ansei Tokyo Earthquake), with "Ansei" simply being the era-name (nengō) in effect in 1855. Not surprisingly, the Ansei Earthquake resulted in a flood of namazu-related imagery, much of which we have already encountered via the links in the above sections. One point that most analysts of these images overlook is that some of them directly reflect themes that came to broad public attention during Perry's expedition. In this section we examine the widely-held view of Perry's arrival as a world-rectifying (yo-naoshi) event. The world-rectifying aspect of Perry's expedition linked it symbolically with world-rectifying namazu and the large earthquake the struck the shōgun's capital so soon after his visits.

Perry's "black ships" arrive. Even though high bakufu officials knew from foreign newspaper reports that Commodore Matthew Perry planned to sail to Japan with a U.S. naval fleet, the arrival of his black ships (kurobune 黒船) in Edo Bay during the summer of 1853 took the general population by surprise. A thriving tabloid press had developed in the major cities of Japan by that time, and it was not long before small boats full of sketch artists and other newspaper personnel surrounded Perry's fleet. His arrival caused a media frenzy. The drawings and reports from these artists and reporters soon *appeared in local newspapers.* For the past half century or so, Japan had fallen badly behind the major powers of the Western world in terms of military technology. Even as late as 1853, many residents of Edo had never seen a steam ship, and the sight of these monstrous, smoke-belching vessels produced a strong emotional impact on Japanese of all walks of life--which is precisely the effect Perry desired.

There was much confusion among the populace as a result of Perry's arrival. Prices rose sharply, for example, and people sought to hide or secure their household valuables. Samurai, most of whom were unprepared for warfare, rushed to acquire weapons. There was also confusion within the ranks of bakufu officials about exactly how to respond to Perry, even though a few of the highest officials had decided almost from the start to agree to a minimalist treaty should Perry insist on one forcefully.

This general state of confusion can be seen in some of the popular art of the day. The famous print artist #Utagawa Kuniyoshi,# for example, produced a print showing a painter, brush in hand, mentally bombarded with so many possible images to paint that he is momentarily paralyzed. Kitani Makoto 気谷誠 regards this print as a veiled critique or commentary on the confusion within the bakufu, with the painter's inability to act a metaphor for bakufu ineptitude in the face of rapidly changing events. (Miyata and Takata, Namazu-e, p. 57.) Although difficult to recognize amidst the confusion of the images in the print, there is a scene of a monkey trying to pin down a namazu with a gourd. The namazu is nearly invisible, but the monkey and the gourd alone would have been enough to indicate this well-known visual motif to alert viewers (the locus classicus being Josetsu's Hyōnenzu discussed previously). *Take a look at the print.* I have circled the monkey and gourd with a red paintbrush. The specific function of the monkey and gourd, according to Kitani, was to parody the ineffectiveness of Tokugawa Nariaki's view that the bakufu should reject all of Perry's demands even if doing so would lead to war with the United States. Tokugawa Nariaki was the lord of Mito and a Shogunal relative. His views never gained official favor, but they were well known to Edo residents who kept up with current affairs.

Perry's arrival generated much commentary about its implications and significance. One view was that his coming to Japan from across the sea was an instance of world rectification (yo-naoshi). Like the namazu examples we have already seen, Perry's black ships were sometimes viewed as medicine to reform an ailing society. For example, a newspaper article under the headline "Barbarian Steam Ships" (bankata jōkisen 蛮方蒸気船) characterized the arrival of the black ships the best possible medicine for society. It explained that the long period of peace has afflicted the warriors with an illness, making them ineffective and soft, but that recent events have refocused their energies on military affairs. (Miyata and Takata, Namazu-e, p. 57.) This line of thinking, and the use of a disease or malaise metaphor to express it, was quite common in the public discourse of 1853 and for several years thereafter.

Depictions of Perry's ships often portray them as *strikingly similar* to the some of the menacing namazu images that would later pour forth from the printing presses in 1855 (and I might add that this and other images like it also uses popular Buddhist symbols). And such portrayals were not entirely new in 1853 or 1854. Consider, for example, the tabloid image of a Russian ship that made an appearance in Japanese waters in 1845. It *looks just like a giant namazu.* Of course, this image was not an attempt to portray the ship in photorealistic detail. Indeed, chances are the artist had not even seen the Russian ship first hand. Therefore, he reverted to a basic stock image for powerful, awesome, threatening things from afar that occasional appear in nearby waters: the namazu. Furthermore, it was common during the 1840s and 50s to portray all foreign steamships in a manner that bore a general resemblance to giant namazu (*example of a Dutch ship*).

The Ansei Earthquake and its connection with Perry in the popular imagination. On the second day of the tenth month (lunar calendar--corresponds to early November in the solar calendar), 1855, a powerful earthquake struck Edo and a wide surrounding area. Aftershocks continued for the next five days. Many estimates of the number killed in the greater Edo area are around 10,000 (4-5,000 for the downtown area), but there is no way to know with certainty. The injured were even more numerous, and fires raged for days. Two of the most prominent advocates of a policy of "expelling the barbarians" (jōi 攘夷), who sought to reverse the recent treaty the bakufu had concluded with Perry, were killed in the earthquake.

For many residents of Edo, the Ansei Earthquake was no accident. It was part of the world rectification process that started with Perry's arrival. The earthquake was a heavenly-sent shakeup of a society that had become corrupt and imbalanced in many ways. For example, some Japanese (especially opponents of an expulsion policy) interpreted the deaths of the two "expulsion" advocates as a message from the cosmic forces themselves that such a policy was inappropriate. We can find in the visual imagery of the time points of correspondence between earthquake, signified by the world-rectifying namazu, and the black ships. Let us think this matter through using available evidence.

Recall the *image of the treasure ship,* whose hull is the body of a namazu. It certainly bears a rough resemblance to depictions of foreign ship steamships that we have seen. To assert a connection based only on the rough resemblance in this one case, however, would hardly be convincing. Here is additional *circumstantial evidence.* Many of the Ansei Earthquake-related images of world-rectifying namazu dispensing wealth feature the deity of good fortune Daikoku 大黒 (or Daikokuten 大黒天) as the one actually dishing out the money. In such images, it is as if Daikoku was the world-rectifying namazu's agent. Indeed, with rare exceptions, Daikoku is the only deity who dispenses money to the masses, even though there are others who might function in this role (the deity Ebisu is sometimes shown pinning down an earthquake namazu, but never distributing money).

Daikoku's name means "Big Black." Japanese symbolic representation then and now depends heavily on plays on words. The simplest and most common play on words was the uses of homonyms--words with the same pronunciation but different meanings. In English, such words ore often spelled the same, but in Japanese they are usually written with different characters. The use of Chinese characters in the Japanese writing system adds additional possibilities for visual puns in the process of construction plays on words. In this case "big black"--the deity--is depicted as helping to rectify the world. But what other "big black," had recently been on the minds of Edo's residents? Perry's black ships, of course. Furthermore, namazu, too, are always black. So Daikoku helps connect two other "big blacks" to himself: Perry's ships and the earthquake (giant) namazu.

Were the artists and their consumers really thinking of these connections, or were they simply a chance occurrence that later observers have strung together to make everything seem to fit a neat pattern? We cannot answer with complete certainty, for the very process of analyzing human affairs, past or present, is one of making things fit together after the fact. In this case, though, we have a very strong, convincing example in making the case for a connection between namazu, the black ships, and world rectification: *take a look.* Here, a giant namazu appears to have partially morphed into a whale. Significantly, though, the money it is spouting does not come from a blow hole. Instead, it comes from the same place that a smoke stack would be located on the steam ships of that time. Furthermore the entire appearance of the odd-looking namazu resembles one of Perry's black ships. Moreover, the text of an accompanying song written on the print includes a play on words that links "great country" with "big black" (both pronounced "daikoku"). This namazu-e was not a haphazard creation. It contains a veiled political message. So, we can say that at least some Japanese at the time of the Ansei Quake, explicitly linked prosperity, world rectification, Perry's expedition, and the earthquake. It is likely that many such Japanese regarded the likely start of foreign trade in Edo (which was vaguely promised in the treaty with Perry at some future date--another treaty in 1858 set up the details) as a further opportunity for profit profit.

Finally, consider this image of a neck-to-neck tug-of-war (kubi-hiki 首引き) between *Matthew Perry and a namazu.* Again we see a close connection in this minds of many Japanese between Perry's expedition and the earthquake. Unlike the examples we have just seen, however, in this one, the namazu and Perry (who represents "America" in the dialogue, or, more broadly, foreign pressure in general) are at political odds. The catfish begins by saying, "You stupid Americans have been making fun of us Japanese for the past two or three years. You have come and pushed us around too much . . . Stop this useless talk of trade; we don't need it. We are sick of hearing the noisy calls of the candy sellers. Since we don't need you, hurry up and put your back to us. Fix your rudder and sail away at once." Several such exchanges later, "America" says: "You catfish! It is funny for you to speak like that, making up your own reasoning. Despite the fact that men can usually hold you down with a gourd, on the fourth day of the eleventh month you tried to send us away by shaking Shimazu and Numazu, but our American spirit remained unmoved."

The referee in this match is a plasterer, and he gets in the last words: "Both of you be quiet . . . look with your eyes and see the cracks in the warehouses. We are asked to patch up these cracks and holes, asked over and over again; we are asked to prop up the broken down walls; we are known for our fine work with the trowel. Everyone admires our work. We are thankful this time for the earthquake, but both of you try to resolve your differences without causing us any more trouble. We don't want to see it; stop it!" (Translation provided by Peter Duus, The Japanese Discovery of America: A Brief History with Documents [New York: Bedford Books, 1997]. pp. 110, 112.) The plasterer's view here was probably typical of many Edo laborers. They were generally happy with the immediate post-quake situation, for reasons we have already examined. But the process of arriving at this point had been tumultuous and even terrifying. So, while thankful for the recent earthquake, these Edoites hoped for no more major upheavals in the near future.

Although not overtly political, many of these Ansei Quake namazu images bore messages with political implications. Obviously, the very fact that the world needed rectification was one such message. In common political theories of the time, corrupt or evil governments would incur the wrath of the cosmic forces, who would display their displeasure mainly through natural disasters and strange atmospheric phenomena. The disasters--earthquakes, floods, epidemics, et cetera--would eventually help to bring about a new government. This way of thinking originated in ancient China was part of the common sense of Japanese society at the time of the Ansei Earth. The images of world-rectifying namazu, especially, would have projected a message uncongenial to the political authorities.

The outpouring of namazu-related images after the Ansei Quake lasted about two months and then came to an abrupt stop. Why? Because bakufu authorities were uneasy about the potential for social and political commentary and banned the further creation of popular namazu images. But the namazu would return to popular imagery during the subsequent Meiji period, which we examine in the next section.

What might we say more generally about all the monsters, giant catfish, deities, and so forth that we have examined thus far? First, notice the relative complexity of these entities when used as symbols. The precise meaning of, for example, a namazu in an picture would depend on such factors as the broader historical context at the time of the picture's creation, the intended audience or market for the picture, and the interplay of other symbols within the picture, possibly including plays on words in the text that usually accompanied such pictures. Notice that not only the namazu, but all of the types of yōkai we have examined can be malevolent, benevolent, or ambiguous. Their exact meaning is always dependent on a set of contexts.

Finally, notice that we have not seen anything absolutely evil or absolutely good among these yōkai. At first glance we might think an oni always to be evil. But oni, like earthquake namazu and other yōkai, could cause both beneficial and harmful results. How might we translate oni into English? "Devil," "demon," "monster," or something like that. The problem with such terms, however, it that devils, demons, and monsters are always bad things. The Japanese oni, by contrast, is powerful and fearsome, but not necessarily bad or evil. Instead, oni pursue their own agendas. Therefore, when they come into contact with people, the results of that contact will vary. It is possible to exaggerate this point, but commentators on Japanese culture often point out a lack of absolute good and evil as a characteristic way of Japanese thinking. Instead, good and evil, gain and loss, harm and benefit are defined in terms relative to the prevailing situation. Sometimes this way of thinking is called "situational ethics." We have been seeing examples of this situational relativity throughout our survey of yōkai, and we will see more of this point in the later sections of this chapter.

Namazu in Meiji-Era Political Cartoons

Japan's Meiji state concentrated much more power into its hands than had any of the regimes preceding it. As much as was practically possible, state policies and propaganda tried to discourage ordinary Japanese from engaging in political actives. Just as was the case during the Tokugawa period, however, many Meiji-era Japanese took a strong interest in the political issues of the day. Political cartoons of the time were rich in symbolism and plays on words because making direct political statements was dangerous. The well-known namazu proved quite useful for Meiji cartoonists. Because of their great power, government officials were *often depicted as namazu,* with especially powerful officials appearing as giant namazu. Depicting officials as namazu also conveyed a sense of arrogance or self-importance, qualities in abundant supply among many Meiji officials.

Today we often hear the term "downsizing" or "reorganization" in the context of companies trying to become more efficient by reducing the size of their workforces. Almost never, however, do we hear these or similar expressions in the context of government. During Japan's Meiji period, however, the government was under terrible financial pressure, and its ability to extract taxes from the population was limited by low standards of living and a lack of capital throughout the country. So the Meiji state frequently tried to streamline itself, which often meant reducing the number of bureaucrats (on the whole, however, the government grew in size from decade to decade). Such government shakeups or streamlining went by the official name of "personnel adjustments" (jin'in seiri 人員整理). The popular term for these adjustments was "earthquake" (jishin). Namazu, of course, were perfect symbols for these personnel adjustments, as in *this example.*

*Ōkubo Toshimichi* was the leading figure in the Meiji government until his assassination in 1878. Naturally, there was great curiosity about what changes in course for the government, if any, would result from his death. Perhaps the biggest issue of the day--especially for the press--was the creation of some sort of national assembly. Major decisions would have been made in private among the remaining top officials of the government. *This cartoon* was part of the speculation about the near-term political trends.

One of the most important events of the early Meiji period was the Freedom and Popular Rights Movement (Jiyū minken undō 自由民権運動). This movement does not have a precise start or finish date, but it took place roughly between the years 1874-1890. The most vigorous activity took place in the early 1880s, after which time the government succeeded in suppressing the movement by a combination of brute force and partial concessions.

The Freedom and Popular Rights Movement encompassed a rather wide range of political activists, not all of whom spoke with identical voices. Nevertheless, there are several characteristics and demands that nearly all of the Freedom and Popular Rights activists shared. For one thing, the Freedom and Popular Rights Movement was anti-government in that its activists were all private citizens (some very prominent) outside the inner circles of power. Furthermore, these activists demanded that the government open itself up and become more representative of the Japanese people as a whole. At that time (and well into the twentieth century), all of the top government officials came from the former domains of either Satsuma or Chōshū. The Freedom and Popular Rights Movement activists sought to end this monopoly of power by what we now call the "Sat-chō Oligarchy." But their demands went much further: a constitution and a democratically-elected national assembly with real power. Although the movement fizzled under government pressure, it did succeed in pushing the government toward granting a constitution (1889) which provided for a national assembly with limited powers. Here is a *typical cartoon* from this period.

Let us conclude this survey of Meiji-era uses of the namazu symbol with an example about officials' fall from power. Meiji officials had many opportunities to enrich themselves improperly, and many took advantage of these opportunities. Those with exceptionally good connections could literally get away with murder (Kuroda Kiyotaka 黒田清隆, for example), but those without powerful friends or whose scandalous behavior was widely reported in the press were likely to find themselves out of the government. *This cartoon* describes such rapid falls from grace, but there is more to it than initially meets the eye--at least for most contemporary viewers.

Let us now jump from the end of the nineteenth century to the middle of the twentieth century. Japan has been at war with China since 1937 (or earlier) and expanded its war to the United States at Britain in December, 1941. This war, of course, was an event of enormous complexity. In the next section we take a look at one specific aspect of it: the figure of the oni (and occasionally other yōkai) in Japanese depictions of the Anglo-American enemy.

The Figure of the Oni in Japanese Wartime Images of the Anglo-American Enemy

Consider the following question: during the Second World War, what was the main point of portraying the enemy in a striking fashion in public displays (e.g., posters, billboards, magazine ads, etc.)? Without giving it much thought, many people tend to assume that the main intent behind these portrayals was to encourage soldiers to fight harder. Soldiers, however, were not the primary intended audience, and, moreover, soldiers in battle would need little or no motivation to fight beyond what battlefield conditions already supply. Because modern wars were contests between entire societies, not just opposing armies or navies, and because of the critical importance of industrial production, most images of the enemy sought first and foremost to *motivate civilian workers*.

In such conditions, the state would, of course, want a dedicated, conscientious workforce as well as a cooperative citizenry who adhere to rationing restrictions, conserve resources, and otherwise contribute to the war effort. Portrayals of the enemy, therefore, typically sought to demonstrate both the *urgency and the righteousness* of the war effort. Naturally, the enemy would be portrayed as evil and threatening, and, by explicit or implicit contrast, one's own side would appear virtuous. There are many ways to broadcast these messages, some more convincing or emotionally gripping than others--which leads to the issue of rhetorical strategies for portraying one's self in contrast to one's enemy.

As in the case of American images of the Japanese enemy, the purpose of Japanese images of the Anglo-American enemy was the same: to encourage civilian sacrifice, diligence, and *production* by glorifying Japan's war aims and vilifying the enemy. Wartime images produced in the United States tended to place primary emphasis on denigrating the enemy and secondary emphasis on glorifying the American people and war effort. The emphasis in the case of Japanese-produce images was roughly the opposite: Japanese images often emphasized the superiority of Japan's people and soldiers, with denigration of the enemy being a secondary theme. Japanese liked to portray themselves as *morally superior* to the decadent Americans and British. This alleged moral superiority often led to overtones of cultural superiority.

When the enemy was the explicit subject matter of images, it was typically the enemy leaders Churchill and Roosevelt, not "the British" or "the Americans" who were singled out for criticism. Caricatures of enemy leaders employed the metaphor of the oni. As we have seen, oni often resemble humans, but display certain marks of the beast: claws instead of hands; horns protrude from their heads. They are powerful creatures, generally to be feared. Under the right circumstances, however, oni could also use their powers to bring about desirable results. Japanese cartoonists typically used the oni image as a device to criticize U.S. and British hypocrisy and deceit. This theme, plus that of Japan fighting to liberate Asia, were the two predominant motifs in Japanese wartime imagery. Often these two motifs were interwoven in wartime imagery.

#This cartoon,# for example, urges the people of Asia to rise up against their oppressors, the so-called "ABCD powers" (America, Britain, China, Dutch/Holland). In it, the ABCD powers (but without Holland depicted) tramp arrogantly across the downtrodden peoples of Asia, even though the ABCD submarine has been badly damaged. The basic message is to strike while the iron is hot, for your oppressors have sustained much damage and are relatively weak. Aimed at the people of India, *this cartoon* contains a similar message. Notice that John Bull appears to be human at first glance. If you look carefully, however, you will notice two horns protruding from his head.

Japanese images of enemy leaders often made the point that while they appear to be decent human beings, such appearances are but a deceptive masquerade. Under the surface, the enemy leaders are beasts (oni) seeking power, money, and aggrandizement--with the peoples of Asia as their victims. Titled, *"Horse's Legs, Badger's Tail,"* this early 1942 cartoon shows the Japanese military revealing the truth about Churchill and Roosevelt. Clad in the pious garb of padres, Japanese planes show Churchill to be a cunning badger (tanuki in Japanese--a badger-like creature who is a notorious trickster) clothed in death. Roosevelt has the backside of a horse (an indication of evil in Japanese folklore) and is clothed in dollars. Notice the crucifixes of these two, which are held like daggers. Such imagery would have been quite convincing to Japanese viewers.

Let us consider a few more examples of enemy-as-oni, all of which feature Roosevelt. *This poster* urges workers to "Produce more Airplanes!" and prominently features a demonic Roosevelt. The *next image* is a good example of the basic point of the oni image at this time: that the enemy resemble civilized human beings but are in fact devils. The human facade hides their true nature as if it were a mask. *"Weeping Statue of Liberty"* is rich in various themes from Japanese wartime propaganda. The main visual feature is a demonic Roosevelt seated atop a weeping Statue of Liberty.

As the war entered its last desperate year, the relative sophistication and emphasis on ideological principles and self-glorification discussed above tended to give way to *cruder images* of an *inhuman enemy* who was quite literally pounding on Japan's own door in the form of bombing raids over major- and medium-sized cities.

(Incidentally, Japanese images were sometimes quite sophisticated. One of the best examples is #"Vespers,"# based on the Millet's famous painting, #The Angelus.# "Vespers" makes much the same point as we have already seen: that the Anglo-Americans are pious-acting hypocrites, whose imperialism has led to death and destruction throughout Asia. Notice their baby Jiang Jieshi, leader of China's Guomindang party, in the basket. That the cartoon is based on a famous French painting from the 19th century is remarkable in part for its use of "high" culture in producing wartime propaganda. Would the same approach have worked in the United States? Possibly, but only with careful selection from a limited number of especially famous works. Certainly The Angelus would not have been well known [or known at all] to the average American.)

The use of the oni as the primary means to demonize the Anglo-American enemy made sense in that it was ideal for representing many of the major themes of Japanese propaganda such as alleged hypocrisy and deceit on the part of Roosevelt and Churchill. It may also have been serendipitous at the point when Japan finally surrendered (at least a year after it had clearly been beaten in purely military terms). John W. Dower asks the following question in his book War Without Mercy: Race and Power in the Pacific War: "After such a merciless war, how can one explain the peaceful nature of the Allied occupation of Japan, and the genuine goodwill that soon developed between the Japanese and the Americans in particular?" One simple but important reason, according to Dower, is that the wartime portrayals of a villainous enemy on both sides were simply untrue: "The Americans were not demons, as the Japanese discovered when they were not raped, tortured, and murdered as wartime propaganda and rumors had forecast. And the Japanese were more diversified and far more war-weary than their enemies had been led to believe." (New York: Pantheon Books, 1986, p. 301.)

Dower points out, however, that this simple reason was not the only factor at work in making the transition from war to peace relatively swift and bloodless. Additionally:

The abrupt transition from a merciless racist war to an amicable postwar relationship was also facilitated by the fact that the same stereotypes that fed superpatriotism and outright race hate were adaptable to cooperation. Here we confront the reason why certain code words and pet images of everyday life survive extreme vicissitudes: they are usually remarkably flexible and malleable, and can be turned about, even turned almost inside out, to legitimize a multitude of often contradictory purposes. This can be demonstrated with virtually all of the core metaphors or images that dominated the racial perceptions of each side during the war. (p. 301.)

The core metaphor for the enemy in Japanese eyes, as we have seen, was the oni. Dower points out that this image of the demonic outsider also had a positive side in Japanese folk culture:

Acceptance of this new, and lesser "proper place" subservient to the United States was made easier for the Japanese because other staples of wartime racist imagery were malleable. Noteworthy here was the positive or beneficent side of the outsider, stranger, or demon [oni] that was so deeply embedded in Japanese folk culture. The stranger or outsider always possessed double powers: the capacity to destroy, but also gifts that were entertaining and pleasant, and gifts that could contribute to one's own self-strengthening. The demon--the overwhelmingly dominant persona of the Anglo-American enemy during the war--was also the demon with a human face, the potentially tutelary deity. In occupied Japan, and for many years thereafter, this is the side of the demon that prevailed: large, powerful, human, protective, awkward, vaguely forbidding, generally but not entirely trustworthy. (p. 305.)

In considering Dower's point here, recall the remarkable flexibility of the namazu image during the nineteenth century. Or, consider the case of tengu as, in effect, potential tutelary deities when sought out by mountain monks who desired to learn the secrets of their special powers. More broadly, consider the flexibility of all of the yōkai-symbols we have encountered in this chapter and their characteristic of not being absolutely evil or absolutely good. The meaning and disposition of any particular yōkai would depend on context and circumstances. And so it was with the American oni in the 1940s. They remained oni because, at least in modern times, only Japanese can be truly and completely human. But in 1945 the American oni changed from being fearsome devils fit only to be exterminated to being tutelary deities from whose largess Japan greatly benefited in the postwar decades.