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The genesis of Shunkan: examining the evolution of the portrayal of the Shunkan setsuwa sequence in the Heike, nō, jōruri, and kabuki traditions

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The genesis of Shunkan: examining the evolution of the portrayal of the Shunkan setsuwa sequence in the Heike, nō, jōruri, and kabuki traditions

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THE GENESIS OF SHUNKAN:
EXAMINING THE EVOLUTION OF THE PORTRAYAL OF THE SHUNKAN
SETSUWA SEQUENCE IN THE HEIKE, NŌ, JŌRURI, AND KABUKI
TRADITIONS

by

Kirk Ken Kanesaka

A Thesis Presented to the
FACULTY OF THE USC GRADUATE SCHOOL
UNIVERESITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
In Partial Fulfillment of the
Requirements for the Degree
MASTER OF ARTS
(EAST ASIAN LANGUAGES AND CULTURES)

December 2010

Copyright 2010 Kirk Ken Kanesaka

ii

DEDICATION

To my Family

iii

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would first like to thank my kabuki master, Sakata Tōjūrō, whose vision of
introducing the kabuki tradition to the international community has enabled me to return
back to pursue my graduate studies at University of Southern California. He has also
spent numerous hours, along with kabuki actor Nakamura Gannosuke, going over
Chikamatsu’s text with me. I would also like to acknowledge Mr. Kazuo Mizuguchi,
head of the historical department for Shochiku, LTD. Kansai, for all of the lengthy
discussion on the topic of Shunkan and ashizuri. Also, to my family, who has supported
all of my dreams and to which this thesis could never have been made possible without
their support. I would also like to acknowledge my committee members, Professor Akira
Lippit and Professor Anne McKnight for their time and guidance. And lastly, I would
like to express my sincerest and deepest gratitude to my committee chair, Professor
David Bialock, who has spent uncountable hours guiding, supporting, editing and
instructing me on my Shunkan studies. Truly, without his support and guidance, this
project could never have been made possible.

iv

TABLE OF CONTENTS

DEDICATION ii
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS iii
LIST OF FIGURES iv
ABSTRACT v
CHAPTER ONE: INTRODUCTION 1
CHAPTER TWO: DEFINING “ASHIZURI” 13
CHAPTER THREE: ASHIZURI’S TRANSFORMATION IN THE 26
MEDIEVAL ERA

CHAPTER FOUR: SHUNKAN AND THE MEDIEVAL CHILD MOTIF 31
CHAPTER FIVE: THE DIFFERENT VIEWPOINTS FOUND IN THE 40
VARIANTS RETELLING THE SHUNKAN CYCLE

CHAPTER SIX: NŌ AND SHUNKAN 47
CHAPTER SEVEN: CHIKAMATSU MONZAEMON AND HEIKE 59
NYŌGO GA SHIMA

CHATPER EIGHT: CONCLUSION 73
BIBLIOGRAPHY 75
APPENDICES:
APPENDIX A: “THE MATTERS OF THE FOOT-DRAGGING 82
DEITY”
APPENDIX B: AUTHOR’S REDENTION OF SHUNKAN’S 84
ASHIZURI ILLUSTRATIONS

v

LIST OF FIGURES

FIGURE 1: “ASHIZURI” 16
FIGURE 2: “ROKUDAI” MOTHER AND NURSE 18
FIGURE 3: “ROKUDAI” MONGAKU 19
FIGURE 4: SHUNKAN’S ASHIZURI 84
FIGURE 5: TEMPER TANTRUM 85
FIGURE 6: DEPARTURE 86

vi

ABSTRACT
The Heike Monogatari is a medieval text that is based on the rise and fall of the
Taira (Heike) Family. One of the many sub plots within Heike Monogatari revolves
around Bishop Shunkan, who was exiled to Kikai-ga-shima for taking part in the failed
conspiracy to try and overthrow Kiyomori, head of the Taira Clan. Although Shunkan
was sent into exile with two other colleagues, he was the only one who was not granted a
pardon to return to back to the capital. Therefore, as the ship departed, the lonely
Shunkan is depicted as a child-like character, weeping, crying and dragging his feet on
the beach in a manner referred to as “ashizuri.”
Of all the different variants of the Heike Monogatari, only the Kakuichibon has a
chapter dedicated to the exiled Shunkan under the title of “Ashizuri.” Although this
chapter of the Kakuichibon is named “Ashizuri,” it is only recently that several scholars
have begun to question why this is the only chapter that is named after an action and not a
character or plot related event. This study will trace the ashizuri phenomenon in pre-
modern literature and suggest possible readings of Shunkan’s ashizuri in the Heike
Monogatari. This study will show that ashizuri is not unique to the Shunkan sequence,
but that similar displays of grief can also be traced back to earlier Japanese texts such as
Ise Monogatari and the Man’yōshū. In addition to the physical movements of ashizuri, I
will also discuss and ultimately reject the claims for a supernatural explanation for the act

vii

of ashizuri. Lastly, I will examine the evolution of Shunkan’s depiction and the
modification of the ashizuri action in the performing arts of the nō, jōruri, and kabuki
theater.

1

CHAPTER ONE

INTRODUCTION

The story of Shunkan and Kikai-ga-shima (Devil’s Island) makes its first
appearance in the Heike monogatari (The Tale of Heike, ca. 1371). Hundreds of years
later, Shunkan’s story is still very much alive, especially within the Kabuki Theatre
tradition. I, myself, have a very special connection to the Shunkan story. My very first
role as a Kabuki actor was part of Kataoka Gatō’s (eldest son of former Kataoka
Nizaemon XIII) production of Chikamatsu Monzaemon’s Heike nyōgo ga shima (Heike
and the Island of Women-Devil’s Island, 1718) scene in June of 2003. At that time, I had
little knowledge of the actual medieval story, and yet somehow Chikamatsu’s version of
the Shunkan story forever remained embedded in my memory. Chikamatsu’s version
paints Shunkan as a tragic hero, whose self-sacrifice enables the young couple, Naritsune
and Chidori, to live a happy life as husband and wife (his version will be discussed in
full detail later in this paper.) Little did I know that Chikamatsu’s version varies greatly
from the versions that are presented in Heike variants.
As the first foreigner to become a professional Kabuki actor in the theater’s
history, I was primarily interested in the relationship between the medieval versions of
Shunkan’s character portrayal and how the performing arts subsequently modified and
adapted Shunkan’s story for dramatic representation. In particular, I wanted to see if
there was a connection between the foot-dragging, or ashizuri, that Shunkan performs

2

within the Heike variants and the foot-sliding technique, ashisuri,
1
that is commonly used
by actors in the nō and kabuki traditions. There seems to be a connection of sorts
between foot-dragging and foot-sliding and the idea of placating vengeful spirits.
However, beyond the placation motif behind the foot-dragging action, what most
interested me was the influence of this motif on the different portrayals of Shunkan in the
three distinct performed genres: 1) medieval recited narrative (monogatari), exemplified
in the Heike and its variants, 2), nō drama, which gave rise to the nō play Shunkan, and 3)
jōruri, or puppet theater, and kabuki, which produced their own versions of Shunkan’s
story in Heike nyōgo ga shima (Heike and the Island of Women), in the scene called
Kikai-ga-shima no ba (“Devil’s Island”).
What exactly is this “foot-dragging” that Shunkan performs and how does it
affect his character portrayal and representation in the Heike variants, nō’s Shunkan, and
Chikamatsu Monzaemon’s “Devil Island” scene, will be the main focus of this paper. I
will first start by giving a general overview of the actual war between the two rival clans,
the Genji and the Heike, on which the Heike is based upon. After this overview, I will
then examine Shunkan’s portrayal and the ashizuri phenomenon within the context of the
Heike. In the past, scholars have argued that the purpose of the Heike in general,
especially the Heike recited by blind lute players, is to placate the dead spirits brought
about by the war.
2
Due to the manner of Shunkan’s death, scholars have often used this
theory to link Shunkan to the vengeful spirit motif, arguing that the recitation and

1
The ashizuri, or foot-dragging, that is performed by Shunkan is not just a form of walking or a movement
of the feet as in ashisuri, or foot-sliding, but an action to express the emotion of distress and despair
brought upon by the fear of being abandoned.
2
The scholarship on this subject is vast, but for a good introduction, see Hyōdō Hiromi, Heike monogatari:
katari no tekusuto, (Chikuma shobō, 1998), pp. 110-126; 160-178.

3

performance of Shunkan’s story by biwa hōshi, or blind reciters, served as a way of
placating his vengeful spirit. Although this theory is plausible, I will argue that the
Shunkan story is also about the representation of Shunkan’s extreme emotional state of
agony and despair that ultimately gives rise to the action of the ashizuri. As we will see,
this “ashizuri” motif is not unique to the medieval Heike literature, but can also be found
in classical texts such as the Man’yōshū (The Collection of Ten Thousand Leaves, ca.
759), and Ise monogatari, (Tales of Ise, 9
th
c.) and others.
After examining the Shunkan story in the Heike variants, I will change literary
genres and focus on the nō drama Shunkan. Though its authorship is unknown, Shunkan
is one of the very few dramas in the nō repertory that focuses entirely on the main
character’s, who is presented as a living human in opposed to a ghost or supernatural
being in need of placating, extreme emotional state of agony and despair. I will argue
that, once again, the emotional state of Shunkan that leads to the foot-dragging motif
(although not explicitly named in the nō play) is the main focus rather than placation.
In the final part of my thesis, I will once again switch literary genres, turning
this time to Chikamatsu Monzaemon’s Edo period adaptation of the Shunkan story. In
Chikamatsu’s work, originally written for the jōruri puppet theatre and later adopted for
kabuki, Shunkan is transformed into a symbol of an Edo period townsmen (chōnin) hero.
Interestingly, Chikamatsu no longer has Shunkan perform the ashizuri (hence the main
focus is not his extreme emotional state), but has another character, Chidori, a diving girl
(ama) who was just recently married to Naritsune, perform the action instead. Again, the
main purpose of the Shunkan story is not placation, but the act, or in this case the lack, of
the ashizuri and its symbolism.

4

The goal in this study is to examine the genesis of the character portrayal of
Shunkan through the three different literary genres. I will examine the ashizuri concept
to highlight the importance of its action in relationship to the Shunkan story. Through the
genesis of the portrayal of Shunkan’s character and ashizuri story, I hope to illustrate how
the notion of ashizuri has transformed itself over time, surviving, even as the Shunkan
story has undergone modification, as an action that highlights the traumatic emotional
state of the character who performs it.

The Genpei War

During the middle of the twelfth century, the residents of the Heian capital
experienced three major upheavals that ultimately resulted in a reformation of the
political power structure that had secured peace and stability for nearly four hundred
years. The three upheavals were: (1) the Hōgen and Heiji wars of 1156 and 1159; (2) the
Genpei War between the Taira and Minamoto from 1177 to 1185; and (3) the Shōkyū
War of 1221. It was these three disturbances that ultimately gave rise to one of the most
famous works in medieval Japanese literature, The Tale of the Heike, which recounts the
rise and fall of the Taira.
The legends behind the Genpei War took shape during a time when the warrior
class had gained extraordinary wealth and power in a society that until then had been
controlled largely by a small group of the court nobility, the highest echelon of the Heian
aristocracy. Although this gradual power shift from the Heian nobility to the warriors
enhanced the power of warrior families, such as the Taira and the Minamoto, it did not

5

constitute a complete break with the old political system. Instead of opposing the old
political system and creating an entirely new one, the warrior class manipulated it to their
own advantage.
3
In particular, scholars, such as Jeffrey Mass, have argued that the Taira
based their rise to political power on the old political system such as gaining influential
positions such as provincial governorships and capital offices rather than acquiring land
and creating a strong standing military.
4

By the late eleventh century, after more than two hundred years of Fujiwara
hegemony of placing their daughters as the main consort to the emperors, and therefore
reserving political power for themselves, the Imperial family undertook the drastic step of
restructuring the In-no-chō, a private chancellery from which the retired emperor could
conduct affairs of the imperial house without interference from the Fujiwara.
5
This
revision was undertaken by the retired emperor, Shirakawa, who searched for new
accouterments of powers that included privately owned estates and a patronage system
that would extend into the provinces.
6
From this revision of the In-no-chō, the retired
emperor eventually joined in alliance with a branch of the Taira (also known as Heike or
Heishi), creating the In-Heishi alliance. This alliance marks the beginning to the Taira’s
rise in power.
However, the success of the Taira in achieving political and monetary gain came
at the unavoidable expense of sacrificing vested interests, especially those of the elite
aristocracy and religious institutions. Many of the provinces and governmental positions

3
Jeffrey P. Mass, Warrior Government in Early Medieval Japan: A Study of the Kamakura Bakufu, Shugo,
and Jitō (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1974), 2.
4
Jeffery P. Mass, “The Emergence of the Kamakura Bakufu,” in The Cambridge History of Japan, Volume
III, Medieval Japan, ed. Kozo Yamamura (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990), 129.
5
Mass, Warrior Government in Early Medieval Japan, 15.
6
Ibid.

6

acquired by the Taira through the In-Heishi alliance were gained at the expense of the
aristocracy and religious institutions. Thus, the Taira found themselves to be at the center
of political power but at the same time isolated from the traditionally elite aristocracy and
religious institutions.
7
As resentment from the traditionally elite aristocracy and religious
institutions grew, the In-Heishi alliance also started to deteriorate.
By the 1170s, the In-Heishi had entered its third generation of alliance between
the retired emperor Go-Shirakawa and Kiyomori. Although the start of the alliance
between Go-Shirakawa and Kiyomori was favorable, a number of events ultimately
forced the Taira to place the retired emperor under house arrest. The start of these events
occurred in 1177, when Kiyomori refused twice against Go-Shirakawa’s order to deploy
against the monks of Enryakuji Temple, resulting in the Court’s ceding to Enryakuji’s
demands.
8
Following the Enryakuji incident, in the sixth month of 1177, what became
known as the Shishigatani Conspiracy was exposed by the Taira, which resulted in the
termination and banishment by Kiyomori of Go-Shirakawa’s favorite followers.
9

The Shishigatani Conspiracy was a plot to overthrow the Taira. It was named
after the villa, owned by Shunkan, in which the conspirators would gather for their
meetings. Once unraveled by the Taira, Kiyomori reacted quickly by placing Go-
Shirakawa under house arrest, since it is believed that the retired emperor had some
involvement in this affair, and ordering execution or exile of the main conspirators.
10

Among the members involved in the Shishigatani Conspiracy was Naritsune and

7
Mass, Warrior Government in Early Medieval Japan, 21.
8
William Wayne Farris. Heavenly Warriors: The Evolution of Japan’s Military, 500-1300 (Cambridge:
Harvard University Press, 1995), 283.
9
Ibid.
10
Mass, Warrior Government in Early Medieval Japan, 20.

7

Yasuyori, both who will later be sentenced to accompany Shunkan as exiles to the island
of Kikai-ga-shima. This Shishigatani Conspiracy of 1177, the exiles of Kikai-ga-shima
and the events between the Taira and Minamoto that had escalated into a full-scale civil
war known as the Genpei War is what the Heike describes in its narratives.

The Heike as an Oral Tradition

In the 1970s and 1980s, scholarship tended to frame the Genpei War as an
expression of popular culture, though recent scholarship sees its origins as more
complicated. In the discussion that follows, I being with a review of those aspects of the
1970s to 1980s popular turn in medieval scholarship that still retain some validity and
relevance to how we understand the Heike, especially to those narratives centered on
Shunkan.
For example, while scholarship on the Heike and the Genpei War has done a good
job of highlighting a variety of the Heike’s subject matter, including accounts of
numerous nobles, priests, warriors and women, who all played roles in this conflict, less
attention had been paid to the role of commoners, in part because their voices are often
absent from the written sources produced by the elites. These commoners, however, had
their own stories to recount, and an extensive body of local legends connected to the
Genpei War, as Barbara Arnn and others have argued, arose in the rural areas throughout
Japan.
11
These commoners’ accounts and legends of the Genpei War, which include
versions of the Shunkan cycle to be discussed below, provide an insight into the larger

11
Barbara L. Arnn, “Local Legends of the Genpei War: Reflections of Medieval Japanese History,” Asian
Folklore Studies 38, no. 2 (1979): 1.

8

audience for the Heike narrative tradition, with interests different from those that are
recorded in written historical and fictional works, often about the same characters and
historical places.
12

These commoners’ accounts and legends, and the works they gave rise to mark a
major turning point in Japanese literature. No longer was literature based exclusively on
the elite ruling class, but commoners’ voices were incorporated into the different variants
of the Heike in the form of setsuwa, or literature based on local oral tales and traditions.
13

In this fashion, the Genpei War had a lasting impact upon Japanese literature. Not only
was it the first military confrontation in generations to affect both the capital and its
outskirts, but in its aftermath Japanese literature was completely transformed. Over time,
it would also give rise to new forms of literature. As Elizabeth Oyler writes in her book
Swords, Oaths, and Prophetic Visions: Authoring Warrior Rule in Medieval Japan, “the
Heike had a tremendous impact on the cultural production of the ensuing medieval age.
A host of additional new literary works indeed, entirely new narrative and performance
genres drew both inspiration and narrative content from the Heike’s episodes, while
simultaneously affecting the perception and interpretation of their Heike precursors.”
14

Oyler goes on to suggest that by articulating these events in the form of a narrative, the
Heike imposed a unified meaning upon history, which she sees as performing a function
that supplements the more traditional emphasis on appeasing potentially malevolent
spirits through the recitation of the Heike by the blind lute players, or biwa hōshi.
15

12
Ibid.
13
Ibid., 5.
14
Elizabeth Oyler, Swords, Oaths, and Prophetic Visions: Authoring Warrior Rule in Medieval Japan,
(Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 2006), 2.
15
Ibid., 4.

9

The Heike tales have been transmitted not only in writing, then, but also through
oral recitation. As Barbara Ruch argued even earlier, there is a complex relationship that
is still imperfectly understood among written texts used for instruction, such as historical
texts, written texts used for the sole purpose of being memorized by the blind lute players,
and the actual chanting of the performances themselves.
16
Ruch advocates for the usage
of the term “vocal literature”
17
to describe the medieval blind lute players’ performance
based on written texts, as opposed to the orally transmitted tales that have not been put
into writing, where the tales, not the performance, are central.
18
It was through these
blind lute-playing performers, who travelled throughout the country, that the Heike was
able to attract huge audiences, both literate and illiterate alike. It was most likely through
some such mechanism of diffusion and assimilation that certain tales in the Shunkan
cycle, to be discussed below, probably entered the Heike narrative tradition.
19

Another major influence on the Heike and the local legends that surround the
Genpei War, including those in the Shunkan cycle, is the role played by geography.
Except for Hokkaidō, the Heike collects legends connected to local topography from all
of the major islands of Japan, including Okinawa, totaling eighty-three stories

16
Barbara Ruch, “Medieval Jongleurs and the Making of a National Literature,” in Japan in the
Muromachi Age, ed. John Whitney Hall and Toyoda Takeshi (Berkeley: University of California Press,
1977), 286.
17
Though both Ruch and Arnn are interested in the affects that common folklore has upon the Heike, Ruch
makes a clear distinction that what is important is the actual performance by the blind lute players of the
Heike and how these performances effect the folklore surrounding the Heike. However, Arnn argues that it
is the text, itself, that is more important. This “text” can be in the form of not just written words but the
recitation of oral traditions.
18
Ruch, “Medieval Jongleurs and the Making of a National Literature,” 293.
19
Much of the earlier scholarship on the Heike during the 1960s revolved around trying to discover the
“original” text of the tale that could served as the source text from which the other variants evolved.
Scholars such as Kenneth Dean Butler looked at the earliest records of Yoshida Kenkō in Tsurezuregusa,
Essays in Idleness, that claimed Shinano no Zenji Yukinaga, as the author of this first version of the Heike.
Kenneth Dean Bulter, “The Textual Evolution of the Heike Monogatari,” Harvard Journal of Asiatic
Studies, 26 1966, 17-23. Though scholars have moved beyond trying to discover the original text, there
seems to be an influence between the textual and oral traditions of the Heike.

10

altogether.
20
Most of these legends are from areas where the Heike or Genji used
transportation or trade routes, and from remote areas where it was believed that warriors
who fled from the battle took refuge. These legends can be divided into three major
categories based on their subject matter: “1) those in which the subject is the Genji and
their connection with a particular locale or landmark; 2) those in which the subject is the
Heike and their connection to a locale or landmark; and 3) those in which a neutral
person’s encounter with the Genji or Heike is the subject.”
21
The legends that are placed
in the first two categories were collected in areas that were either sympathetic to the
Genji or Heike, or had routes that each of their armies traveled along.
22
The influence of
topography, as we will see later, is especially relevant to our understanding of the
Shunkan cycle.

Kikai-ga-shima and Shunkan

Legends connected to Shunkan (c. 1143-1179) and his place of his exile, Kikai-
ga-shima, vary in each of the Heike variants. Though scholars do not deny the fact that
Shunkan existed, a cloud of mystery surrounds his character, in particular the episodes
centered on the foot-dragging, or ashizuri, and the Ariō cycle. According to the Kakuichi
variant of the Heike,
23
Shunkan was the grandson of the Kyōgoku Major Counselor

20
Arnn, “Local Legends of the Genpei War,” 4.
21
Arnn, “Local Legends of the Genpei War,” 4; though the third category is rare, one well known example
is the tale of Miminashi Hōichi made famous by Lafcadio Hearn’s collection of ghost stories, Kwaidan.
22
Arnn, “Local Legends of the Genpei War,” 4.
23
In discussions of the Heike, I will be referring primarily to the Kakuichibon Heike, the Engyōbon Heike,
and the Nagatobon Heike. All citations will be from the following three texts: Ichiko Teiji, Heike
monogatari (jō-ge), vols. 29-30 of NKBZ (Shōgakukan, 1973-1975); Engyōbon heike monogatari
zenchūsaku (jō-ge), eds., Engyōbon chūsaku no kai, (Suikō shoin, 2006); and Asahara Yoshiko and Nanami

11

Minamoto no Masatoshi and the son of the Dharma Seal Kanga of Kodera, thus he would
have come from a family with minimal political power.
24
Characterized in the Heike as
“strong-willed and haughty despite his religious calling,” Shunkan allowed himself to be
a part of the conspirators who were foolishly plotting to overthrow the Heike (before the
outbreak of the Genpei War), by permitting the use of his villa at Shishigatani as a
meeting place for their discussions.
25
As Kiyomori quickly unraveled the plot, Shunkan,
along with two other conspirators, Taira no Yasuyori and Lesser Capitan Naritsune, were
sentenced to exile on the island of Kikai-ga-shima.
The location of Kikai-ga-shima remains somewhat of a mystery today. Scholars
continue to debate its exact location, some arguing that it is an island off of Kyushu,
others Shikoku, others yet Okinawa, and some even suggesting that it was an island in the
South Pacific. I will return to the problem of Kikai-ga-shima’s topography later in this
paper.
Eventually, Yasuyori and Naritsune are pardoned for their actions against the
Heike and are allowed to return to the capital. When a messenger dispatched from the
capital arrives at Kikai-ga-shima to inform them of the pardon, both the Kakuichi and
Engyōbon variants describe the miserable and pleading state of Shunkan (more dramatic
in the Engyōbon variant), as he discovers that his name is not on the official pardon letter.
This episode is found in book three of the Kakuichi Heike, in a separate section,

Hiroaki eds., Nagatobon Heike monogatari no sōgō kenkyū (jō-ge) 1 and 2, (Benseisha, 1998-1999).
Unless otherwise noted, all translations from the Heike variants and other texts are mine.
24
Heike monogatari jō; McCullough, Heike, 47.
25
Heike monogatari jō.

12

technically a “dan,” entitled “Foot-Dragging,”

or Ashizuri.
26
According to the Kakuichi
Heike, as the ship got ready to set sail back to the capital, “in despair, Shunkan went back
to the beach, threw himself down and beat his feet (foot-dragged his feet) against the sand
like a child who wants his nurse or mother. ‘Let me go with you! Take me!’ he shrieked
But the vessel went off, leaving behind only ‘a wake of white waves,’ as is the way of
journeying boats.”
27
Towards the end of Shunkan’s life, his faithful boy servant, Ariō,
visits him and witnesses his death.

26
It should be noted that in her translation of the Heike, Helen McCullough translates “ashizuri” as “foot
drumming.” However, I believe the term “foot drumming” represents more of an ashifumi rather
than ashizuri. The term “ashizuri” will be discussed in more detail later.
27
Heike monogatari jō, 204.

13

CHAPTER TWO
DEFINING “ASHIZURI”

In the Heike variants, it is only after Shunkan realizes that he is going to be
abandoned on Kikai-ga-shima that he enters a state of utter panic and despair, an
emotional state that closely resembles a child’s temper tantrum. During Shunkan’s
heightened emotional state, he is described as performing the ashizuri, or foot-dragging
action, on the shore of Kikai-ga-shima. But what exactly is this ashizuri action that
Shunkan performs? Moreover, why is it that an entire section, or dan, in the Kakuichi
Heike, is named after the physical action of the ashizuri, and not after Shunkan, Kikai-ga-
shima, or even the pardon that was granted, as is the case with the other variants texts of
the Heike? Even the renowned Heike scholar Saeki Shin’ichi, in his article “Ashizuri kō
heike monogatari wo chūshin ni,” became intrigued by this ashizuri phenomenon, since
the Shunkan Heike scene describing this phenomenon creates a strong impression on the
reader, though it is not clear what kind of action it refers to, nor have the commentaries
paid sufficient attention to the word’s meaning.
28

Drawing upon the lexigraphy of the term “ashizuri,” we can note a shift in the
way the term has been defined. The current commentaries on the Heike define “ashizuri”
largely as “jinanda,” the action or appearance of “vigorously stomping one’s feet”
(hageshii ashifumi no sama), which is generally taken to mean “to stomp one’s feet”
while standing upright.
29
Even examining earlier occurrences of “ashizuri” in the

28
Saeki Shin’ichi, “Ashizuri kō- heike monogatari wo chūshin ni,” Ronshū chūsei no bungaku (July 1994):
48.
29
Saeki, 49.

14

Man’yōshū, Ise monogatari, Genji monogatari, and many examples in the Heian court
narratives, the commentaries also define the action as “jinada.” This interpretation of the
term is likely based on the standard dictionary definitions dating back to the Meiji period
and early twentieth century, including those found in Daigenkai (1932), Gensen (1921),
and Nihon Kokugo daijiten. However, during the beginning of the 1970s, a number of
dictionaries including the Shinmeikai Kogo jiten, Iwanami Kogo jiten, and Jidai betsu
kokugo daijiten all became critical of the definition that defines “ashizuri” as “jidanda o
fumu,” meaning to rub or stamp one’s feet on the ground. The editors of Shōgakukan’s
Kogo daijiten (1983) regard this definition as an error. Instead, drawing on such sources
as the Man’yōshū, the late Heian period kanji dictionary Ruiju myōgishō, and the
Japanese-Portuguese dictionary Nippo jisho (1602-1603), the Kokugo daijiten entry
defines “ashizuri” as the action of a small child who rubs its feet together while weeping
in a supine or fallen down position.
30
Therefore, there no longer appears to be a
consensus on the word’s definition.
Looking at the Chinese graphical characters for the term ashizuri, one may
surmise that it refers to a form of action (or verb), with the Chinese graph
in the
compound phrase “ashizuri” conveying the sense of “to rub one’s feet together”
or “to rub one’s feet on the ground.” This suggests that those definitions that define
“ashizuri” as a form of “jidanda,” or “vigorously stomping one’s feet,” are probably
wrong.
31

30
Saeki, 49.
31
Itoi Michihiro, “Ashizuri goshi kō,” Waizu Shōin (October 1985): 118.

15

Examining the occurrences of ashizuri in the Shunkan sequence in the
Kakuichibon (KI), Engyōbon (EB), Nagatobon (NB), and the Genpei jōsuiki
(GS)
32
variants, each variant’s presentation of Shunkan’s foot-dragging actions is
slightly different:

KI:
He returned to the beach and collapsed, rubbing his feet [together]
(ashizuri wo shite) like a small child longing for its wet-nurse or
mother. (Heike monogatari jō, 194)
EB:
Returning to the rocky shore, he collapsed onto the beach (nagisa
ni hirefushite), rubbing his feet [together] (ashi wo surite) like an
abandoned child on the roadside longing for its we-nurse or mother.
(Engyōbon heike monogatari zenchūsaku, 122)
NB:
Returning to the rocky shore, he collapsed onto the beach and
watched the ship sail off, rubbing his feet [together] (ashi wo
surite) like an abandoned child longing for its mother or wet-nurse.
(Nagatobon Heike monogatari no sōgō kenkyū 1, 351)
GS:
Returning to the beach he collapsed, rubbing his feet [together] as
he cried out. (Genpei jōsuiki,106)

Although slightly different, all four of the variants have Shunkan doing the
ashizuri, re-enforcing the argument that the ashizuri is an action to be performed.
Furthermore, within all four variants, Shunkan is in the state of extreme grief and despair,
in which he “collapse” or “fall down” (hirefushi) onto the ground in a fetal-like position
(see Figure 1 and Appendix B). Therefore, although recent dictionaries from the 1970s
have redefined the word, the standard Heike commentaries still have yet to follow suit.
33

32
Ichiko Teiji, eds., Genpei seisuiki, vol. 2, Miyai shoten, 1991.

16

Rather than performing the foot-dragging in an upright, standing position, the Heike texts
describe Shunkan performing the foot-dragging while throwing himself onto the ground.

Source: Komatsu Shigemi, Heike monogatari emaki, vol. 3, (Chūō Kōronsha, 1994-1995), 28-29.

Figure 1: “Ashizuri”

Yet the exact position of Shunkan while performing the ashizuri is still debated by
Japanese scholars. Some scholars, such as Itoi Michihiro, claim that “collapsing, falling

33
Saeki, “Ashizuri no kō,” 49.

17

down” (taore fusu ) while performing ashizuri does not necessarily mean that
one must be face downwards on the ground. One could also be standing, on one’s side,
sitting or lying on the ground face up.
34
However, other scholars, such as Saeki, strongly
disagree, arguing instead that the position in which one must be while performing
ashizuri must be on the ground, face up or down. In the Heike, the verb “hire fusu” is often used with the same meaning as taore fusu. Examples of hire fusu and taore
fusu can also found in other works such as the drawings in “Kannon rieki shū,” where the
illustrations all show the person face down, though one cannot conclude that the
illustrations portray the characters as crying or weeping.
35
Several examples, all of them
from the standard Kakuichi variant, follow:

After reading the letter, the Nun of the Second rank, without
saying a word, thrust the letter into her sleeve and collapsed to the
ground (utsubushi ni zonararekeru).
36
(Book Ten, “Ukebumi”
[“The Reply”])

The Nun of the second rank threw herself down to the ground
(taorefushi), weeping in front of Munemori.
37
(Book Ten,
“Ukebumi” [“The Reply”])

In front of Rokudai’s mother, the nurse fell to the ground
(tafurefushi), shrieking and screaming (see Figure 2).
38
(Book
Twelve, “Rokudai”)

Falling to the ground (tafurefushi) in front of Mongaku, the nurse
shrieked and screamed loudly (see Figure 3).
39
(Book Twelve,
“Rokudai”)

34
Itoi, “Ashizuri goshi kō,” 134.
35
Saeki, “Ashizuri no kō,” 51.
36
Heike monogatari ge, 272.
37
Heike monogatari ge, 273.
38
Heike monogatari ge, 462.
39
Ibid, 466-467.

18

Source: Komatsu Shigemi, Heike monogatari emaki, vol. 12, (Chūō Kōronsha, 1994-1995), 92-93.
Figure 2: “Rokudai” Mother and Nurse

19

Source: Komatsu Shigemi, Heike monogatari emaki, vol. 12, (Chūō Kōronsha, 1994-1995), 91.
Figure 3: “Rokudai” Mongaku

20

In these examples that are found in the Kakuichi, different terms (“utsubushi ni”
and “taorefushi”) are used to imply that the characters are all faced down. The only
example that explicitly indicates the character being faced down is the first example
using the term “utsubushi ni,” or collapsing face down (to the ground). The other term,
“taorefushi” implies that the character is falling to the ground, but does not indicate the
position in which the character is on the ground. However, in the “taorefushi” examples,
the character is always described on the ground (not standing). Therefore, if one were to
assume and accept the argument that the word “taorefushi” can be substituted for
“ashizuri,” then ashizuri must be an action in which the character is faced down and
crying or weeping in the presence of another person. Shunkan is recorded performing the
ashizuri on the ground in the presence of Yasuyori and Naritsune and the crew from the
capital. Though the Heike variants record Shunkan acting as though he is a child having
a temper tantrum while performing the ashizuri in the taore fusu position, this is just one
representation of the action. One does not necessarily have to be described as acting like
a child in order to perform the ashizuri, as shown in the examples above.
40

Each Heike variant devotes a section to Shunkan’s ashizuri phenomenon when he
is left alone on Kikai-ga-shima, but retold under different chapter titles with minor
differences in structure and presentation. However, in the Engyōbon and Genpei jōsuiki
variants, the ashizuri is not only performed by Shunkan on the Kikai-ga-shima shore
upon the departure of his fellow colleagues, but also during Ariō’s visit to seek his master
on the island. Also, in the Nagatobon variant, there is an explanation of the possible
origin of the ashizuri phenomenon, in the fourth book, in the section entitled “On the

40
Saeki, “Ashizuri no kō,” 52.

21

matter of the foot-dragging Deity,” which introduces the story of the monk Riichi and his
disciple Riken.
41
This Nagatobon variant will be examined and discussed later in this
paper.
Though there is no firm consensus on the exact position that one must be in order
to perform the ashizuri, the action does not simply mean to stand upright while dragging,
pounding, or stamping one’s feet while crying or weeping. The Edo woodblock prints of
the Heike and Genpei jōsuiki show Shunkan not standing while performing the ashizuri,
but sitting on his knees (seiza), lying down, or on his hands and knees curled in a fetal-
like position.
42
However, what is important is that the ashizuri is almost always
performed by someone who is experiencing extreme grief or despair.

Earlier Examples of Ashizuri in Japanese Classical Literature

The ashizuri phenomenon and the act of stamping or rubbing one’s feet while
showing distress, crying, or weeping are not unique to the Heike and the medieval era,
but can be traced back to earlier works, such as the Man’yōshū, Ise Monogatari, Genji
monogatari, and a large body of Heian court fiction more generally. These earlier written
references to the ashizuri phenomenon can be split into two broad categories based on
how and when the action is performed. The first category is based on the grieving

41
Asahara Yoshiko and Nanami Hiroaki eds., Nagatobon Heike monogatari no sōgō kenkyū 1, 281.
42
Saeki, “Ashizuri no kō,” 51.

22

emotional state of the person performing the ashizuri, while the second category is based
on the grief that a person feels from separating from another.
43

One of the earliest examples of the first category of performing the ashizuri as a
reaction to extreme grieving can be traced back to the well-known fairy tale of Urashima
Taro found in the Man’yōshū, complied in the middle of the eighth century.
44
In the
Man’yōshū version (9:1740), the poem is preceded the following brief kotoba gaki, or
preface, “A poem on the child Urashima of Mizunoe.
45
” In this version, a fisher boy
Urashima ventured out on the open sea on a fishing expedition. Since Urashima was
having such a successful catch, he decided to continue fishing without returning to the
shore. After being out to sea for seven days, he encountered the Princess of the Ocean
God who took Urashima to the underwater palace, where no one ages and there is no fear
of death. However, after spending three years in the palace, Urashima asked to return to
his village in order to visit his parents and let them know that he was still alive. The
princess agreed to let Urashima return and entrusted him with a black box, instructing
him that if he wanted things to return to as they were, to open the box. Returning to the
village, Urashima realized that everything and everyone around him had changed.
Remembering the words of the princess, he opened the magical box. Urashima looked
into the box “and when a white cloud came out of the box and trailed away in the
direction of the Eternal Land (tokoyo), Urashima stood and ran about, cried out and

43
Tomikura, Tokujirō, “Ashizuri setsuwa naritatsu ni tsuite no ikkō sai” from Koten no shyōso (Komazawa
koten bungaku kenkyū, 1979), 358.
44
One of the oldest records of the Urashima tale can be found in the Man’yōshū where there are several
entries and references about this tale. For a complete collection of the various versions of the Urashima
tales, see Shigematsu Akihisa, Urashimako no den, (Gendai Shichōsha, 1981): 1-288.
45
For a complete translation of the Man’yōshū version, see Edwin A. Cranston, A Waka Anthology, Volume
One: The Gem-Glistening Cup, (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1993): 323-326.

23

waived his sleeve, then rolled about in agony rubbing his feet together (koimarobi
ashizuritsutsu), [until] he suddenly lost consciousness.”
46

Here, we have an early example of the term ashizuri performed as a display of
human emotion. In this Man’yōshū poem-tale, ashizuri is also combined with another
term “koimarobi.” Drawing upon the lexigraphy of the term “koimarobi,” it combines
the two senses of “koi” (to stretch out on one’s side) and “marobu” (roll about in agony)
creating a meaning to “roll about in agony.”
47
Though this definition comes from a
commentary of the 1950s, which may reflect an earlier consensus on the term’s meaning
that may have since changed, there is an association of the ashizuri action with the term
“koimarobi.” This association between the two terms are not just found in the Urashima
tale, but also other poems in the Man’yōshū. Based on this evidence, some scholars, in
particular Yoshida Hiroko, have argued that the ashizuri action originally always
occurred in combination with koimarobi,
48
but that eventually the two terms evolved to
become inter-replaceable with each other.
49
Yoshida has also pointed out that in Heian
court tale literature, there is a shift in the meaning of the term “koimarobi.” In these tales,
the term “fushimarobi” (“fushi” to fall down and “marobi” to roll around in agony) or by
itself “marobi” is used instead of koimarobi.
50
By the time this term is used again during
the medieval era, it evolves once again from fushimarobi to taorefusu (“taore” to collapse,
and “fusu” in a downward direction) to “utsubushi marobi” (“utsubushi” to collapse face

46
Man’yōshū 2, vol. 5 of NKBT, 386-387.
47
Takagi Ichinosuke, ed., MYS 2, vol. 5 of NKBT (Iwanami Shoten, 1959): 385.
48
See Yoshida Hiroko, “Girei wo haikei ni motsu hyōgen-marobu to ashizuri wo chūshin shite,” from
Kokugo goishi no kenkyū (Osaka: Izumi Shoin, 1987): 24; Yoshida also argues that when the two terms
“ashizuri” and “koimarobi” are combined together in usage, the combination can also mean to perform
such action out of courtesy for a person who just recently died, in hopes of trying to revive him.
49
Yoshida, “Girei wo haikei ni motsu hyōgen,” 24.
50
Ibid., 38.

24

down on the ground). By examining the evolution and usage of the term “koimarobi,”
Yoshida argues that eventually these terms came to represent the same action as
represented by ashizuri, even in the absence of the term “ashizuri.” Hence, starting with
koimarobi and the terms evolving from it, these terms came to be used inter-changeably,
or in combination with ashizuri, in order to heighten the representation of the emotional
state of a person.
Turning to the second category, an early example of performing the ashizuri while
separating from another person is also found in the Man’yōshū. In the poem (MYS 5:904),
preceded by the head note “A Song of Love for a boy named Furuhi”
51
we find one of the
earliest recorded examples of ashizuri as an act of dragging one’s feet on the ground to
express one’s distress along with crying and weeping from the separation of a loved one.
This is a poem composed by Yamanoue Okura (660-730) who longs for his dead son,
Furuhi. Yamanoue begins his poem (a chōka) by recalling Furuhi’s birth and proceeds to
describe the child’s early years until his untimely death due to sickness. After the young
Furuhi dies, Yamanoue describes his grief over his loss, “I leaped, jumped and danced
[out of grief] (tachi odori). [After] dragging my feet and wailing (ashisuri sakebi), I
threw myself to the ground, pounding and beating my chest and wailed.”
52

In this poem, we have another example of ashizuri as a result of separating from
another person, where two notions are joined together: leaping and dancing, tachiodori
and the dragging of the feet while wailing, ashisuri sakebi. With the combination of
these two notions in this poem, there seems to be a contradiction with the action,

51
For a full English translation, see Ian Hideo Levy, The Ten Thousand Leaves, (Princeton: Princeton
University Press, 1981): 403-404.
52
MYS, vol. 2, vol.5 of NKBT, 119-121.

25

discussed earlier, of “collapsing, falling down” (taore fusu) while performing the ashizuri.
However, scholars, in particular Saeki, argue that taore fusu and tachi odori should not
be treated as two different, contrasting concepts, but as terms representing the same type
of grief and sobbing that is found in association with the ashizuri action.
53
Therefore, the
sobbing, grieving, or wailing can be performed either by standing or in a supine or sitting
position. Saeki further suggests that the use of tachiodori in conjunction with the ashizuri
action maybe one of the earliest instances of stamping one’s feet while grieving
(ashifumi).
54

53
Saeki, “Ashizuri no kō,” 53.
54
Ibid.

26

CHAPTER THREE
ASHIZURI’S TRANSFORMATION IN THE MEDIEVAL ERA

The ashizuri motif during the medieval period undergoes a transformation that
incorporates two major changes to its representation. Although the basic core
fundamental concepts of the ashizuri motif are still represented (the ashizuri is performed
in combination with the heightened emotional distress or anguish caused by a separation),
there are two modifications to the ashizuri motif during the medieval period. In both of
these modifications, the foot-dragging action is now performed on the seashore. In the
first modification, a person, who is left behind on the shore while his colleague sails
away into the ocean, performs the foot-dragging action. This first modification can be
seen in the Nagatobon variant of the story entitled “Ashizuri myōjin no koto.”
55
However,
in the second modification, it is not just one person sailing away, but two people sailing
away while one person is left behind performing the ashizuri.
56
It is this second
modification of the medieval interpretation of the foot-dragging that bears directly on the
Shunkan cycle of stories. Another representation of the second modification of the
ashizuri can also be seen in the fifth scroll of The Confessions of Lady Nijō
(Towazugatari), under the title “The story of the foot-dragging” (Ashizuri no hanashi).
57

In both modifications, what is important is that the foot-dragging is performed on the
beach and in the presence of another person, or people. Also, the medieval representation

55
Some scholars have argued that in fact two people sail away in the boat (one physically and one
spiritually). This story will be discussed later in the paper.
56
Tomikura, “Ashizuri setsuwa,” 361.
57
For a complete English translation of “Ashizuri no hanashi,” see Karen Brazell, The Confessions of Lady
Nijō, (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1973), 230-231.

27

of the ashizuri action also incorporates Buddhist religious beliefs and traditions. One of
the major Buddhist influences upon this ashizuri motif is the concept of fudaraku,
58
or
setting sail in a boat in search of the Western Paradise.
In the autobiographical accounts of The Confessions of Lady Nijō, Lady Nijō
recounts a story based on the legend of the foot-dragging action and the Buddhist concept
of fudaraku. In an entry dated from around 1302-03, Lady Nijō recounts how she wishes
to visit the temple at Ashizuri no misaki, located in Tosa. This temple was unique for
there was no head priest nor was the temple grounds enclosed. Any traveling monks or
practitioners of ascetics, regardless of rank or status, were allowed to visit the temple
dedicated to Kannon,
59
the goddess of Mercy. Lady Nijō recounts that the legend behind
the founding of this temple is based on a monk and his young disciple who was his
servant. The monk and his disciple were staying at the Ashizuri no Misaki, when
suddenly another young monk of unknown origins appeared. The disciple, full of
compassion, shared his meals with the young monk. However, the monk scolded his
disciple stating that sharing your food “once or twice is fine. However [you are] not to
continue to share your food so freely.”
60
To which, during the next meal, the disciple
told the young monk that this was to be the last meal he could share with him. The young
monk, full of gratitude towards the disciple, inquired whether or not the disciple would
like to see where he lives, which he gladly accepted. The monk, suspicious of the two

58
Tomikura, in his article, questions whether or not fudaraku was practiced or if it was even feasible for
people to set sail in such a manner. He concludes that it was not practiced during the medieval period, and
that it was not feasible due to the height of the cliffs where the boats were launched. Tomikura argues that
by the medieval period, authors wrote about fudaraku to recall the past. For a full discussion, please see
Tomikura, “Ashizuri setsuwa naritatsu ni tsuite no ikkō sai” from “Koten no shyōso” (The University of
Komazawa Classical Studies, 1979), 365-366.
59
Mizukawa Yoshio, Towazugatari zenshaku, (Kazama shōbo, 1966), 624.
60
Ibid.

28

young men, followed them to the cape. As the two young men boarded the small boat,
the monk cried out, “ abandoning me, where are you two going?”
61
To which, the young
monk responded, “We are going to the realm of Kannon.” As the monk watched, the two
young men stood up and transformed into Bodhisattvas. In a state of extreme anguish
and grief, the monk cried while performing the foot-dragging action. Hence, the name of
the place is called the “Cape of the foot-dragging” (Ashizuri no Misaki).
62

In Lady Nijō’s entry, the ashizuri motif is now combined with its medieval
location on the seashore, the Buddhist notion of fudaraku, and in this case, the concept
where two depart while one is left behind. Examples of the first medieval modification
of the foot-dragging motif can be seen in the Heike Shunkan episode, and also in the
Nagatobon variant in the section entitled “The Matter of the Foot-dragging Myōjin.”

Nagatobon variant: “Ashizuri myōjin koto”

Like the story recounted by Lady Nijō on the legend that surrounds the naming of
the cape in Tosa, in the Nagatobon
63
variant, book 4, entitled “The Matter of the foot-
dragging Deity,” there is a similar topographical story on the naming of the same
region.
64
According to the legend presented in the Nagatobon variant, this area in Tosa is
called the Foot-Dragging Cape (Ashizuri misaki) due to a monk named Riichi and his
disciple named Riken. As Riichi and Riken set sail from this cape to pray at a nearby

61
Mizukawa, Towazugatari zenshaku, 624.
62
Ibid., 625.
63
Asahara Yoshiko and Nanami Hiroaki eds., Nagatobon Heike monogatari no sōgō kenkyū 2 (Kōchū-hen
jō-ge), (Benseisha, 1998-1999), 281-283.
64
Mizuhara Hajime, Engyōbon heike monogatari ronkō, (Katō chūdōkan, 1979), 324.

29

mountain, a sudden turn in weather forced their boat back to shore. Fearful that his pupil
was not holy enough to set sail, Riichi left Riken behind on the shore and once again set
forth into the sea. Fearing to be left alone and apart from his beloved master, Riken
chased after his master’s boat. Riken prayed as he watched his master’s boat disappear
beyond the horizon. Riken’s emotional state of despair and grief caused him to drag his
feet along the ground and fall down. It is said that Riken’s soul left his body and joined
his master on his boat, although his physical body remained on the shore. From Riken’s
actions and emotional state, the cape was named the “Foot Dragging Cape.”
65

The legend of Riichi and Riken can be classified as an example of either the first
or second modification of the ashizuri during the medieval period. Physically, Riken is
left behind, abandoned on the shore. However, spiritually, his soul left his body to join
his master on the boat. If we were to apply the possible concepts behind the Riichi and
Riken story to the Shunkan cycle, it could have been incorporated within the Nagatobon
in order to teach various different Buddhist notions. As the Heike scholar Mizuhara
Hajime notes, by focusing on this notion of “abandonment,” while watching a departing
boat, the story highlights the Buddhist notion of human suffering and pain, and the notion
of a wandering spirit.
66
Shunkan’s soul, so wanting to board the ship to return with
Yasuyori and Naritsune, departed from his body and left it soulless, much like a
wandering spirit. However, this legend of naming the Foot-Dragging Cape that can be
found Riichi and Riken story can also be found throughout different regions of Japan,
such as Aichi Prefecture and Kagoshima Prefecture, where there are similar capes that are

65
Asahara Yoshiko and Nanami Hiroaki eds., Nagatobon Heike monogatari no sōgō kenkyū 2, 282.
66
Ibid.

30

named “Foot Dragging” but written with different kanji characters.
67
In all of these
ashizuri examples of the medieval period, it is important to note how the person left
behind feels abandoned. This is similar to the case of Shunkan, who is described as
crying like an abandoned child as Yasuyori and Naritsune sail back to the capital.

67
Ibid.

31

CHAPTER FOUR
SHUNKAN AND THE MEDIEVAL CHILD MOTIF

As noted above, the performance of the ashizuri does not necessary mean that the
person must be standing or upright. Though there is no evidence, prior to the Tokugawa
period, that Shunkan’s foot-dragging is similar to that of a baby’s temper tantrum action,
it is interesting to note how Shunkan came to be depicted as a child while performing the
foot-dragging within the Tokugawa woodblock prints.
68
The earliest illustration of
Shunkan’s childlike portrayal is found in the “Enpō gonen han”
illustration.
69
This image of Shunkan as a child came to dominate the Tokugawa period’s
illustration of Shunkan on Kikai-ga-shima. Although there is no clear explanation as to
why Shunkan is illustrated curled up in a fetus or sitting position while weeping, perhaps
the artist read the Heike sequence in this manner and then reflected how the Tokugawa
people imagined that a grieving child behaves.
70

In his article “Stamping the ground” (Jindara numa), the Japanese folklorist
Yanagita looks at the Kansai term “jindara.” Yanagita claims that in the Kansai area, the
term “jindara” was used from the Tokugawa period through the early Meiji period to
describe children’s temper tantrums. In the Kanto region, this would be similar to the
term “jidanda” .
71
Jindara is thought to be a characteristic of a child before
becoming an adult. A frustrated child would sit on his buttocks and throw his legs up in

68
Saeki, “Ashizuri no kō,” 56.
69
Ibid.
70
Ibid., 57.
71
Yanagita Kunio, “Jindara numa” in Teihon Yanagita Kunio shū (Chikuma shobō 1962-1975), Vol. 7,
406.

32

the air while frantically moving them in a rapid kicking motion.
72
However, during the
medieval period, Yanagita points out that the image of a person full of resentment or
frustration who would sit cross-legged was also referred to as describing a state of
jindara.
73
It is in this later manner that Shunkan is portrayed within the Tokugawa period
illustrations.
According to the Nihon hōgen daijiten , or the “Japanese
Dialect Dictionary,” jindara means “break the earth apart in the fields by constantly
stomping on it” or to “constantly stomp one’s feet out of frustration.”
74
However, since
this definition is not the same as the description that Yanagita gives, there could be a lack
of connection between the concepts “jindara” and “ashizuri.”
75
However, during the
medieval period, this notion of “jindara” was the same as ashizuri because one could
either sit on the ground while dragging one’s feet on it, or just rub one’s feet together out
of frustration.
76

One of the earliest examples of both jindara and ashizuri can be traced back to the
Ise Monogatari. In Ise Monogatari, there is a passage “Long ago when a young child
was in a state of deep sorrow or grief, he would cry as he rubbed his left and right feet
together.” In this passage, the child is portrayed as displaying his grief by crying and
rubbing his right and left feet together (saiyu no ashi wo surite). In this manner, Saeki
suggests that there was an evolution of both jindara and ashizuri that incorporated them
with the child motif.

72
Yanagita Kunio, “Jindara numa,” 406.
73
Ibid.
74
“Japanese Dialect Dictionary” (Tokyo: Shogakukan, 1989).
75
Saeki, “Ashizuri kō,” 57.
76
Ibid.

33

Although Saeki, drawing on Yanagita’s theory, examines Shunkan’s child-like
actions in terms of jindara and ashizuri, he fails to address the problem of Shunkan’s
physical description and the topography and possible location of Kikai-ga-shima, both of
which can shed further light on the mystery of why Shunkan is illustrated in the image of
a medieval child. In the following passage, for example, Ariō recalls meeting his master
Shunkan upon his arrival at Kikai-ga-shima:

One morning, a man as thin as a dragonfly came lurching into sight
from a rocky beach. Bits of seaweed and other ocean debris clung
like a crown of brambles to his hair, which grew straight up as
though he might once have been a monk. His joints stuck out, his
skin hung in folds, and it was impossible to tell whether his
clothing had originally been silk or some other material. In one
hand, he held a strand of edible seaweed, in the other a fish given
to him by a fisherman. Although he appeared to be walking, he
staggered from side to side without making any progress.
77

It is important to note Shunkan’s unkempt appearance, with his hair shooting
upwards and his appearance that has “now taken on the heteromorphic characteristics of
the islanders.”
78

According to Irene Lin, building off the ideas of Yanagita Kunio, “in the
medieval Japanese context, hair becomes a cultural marker of status. Hair is both a
public and private symbol.”
79
The Japanese during the medieval period believed that
newborn child passed through a dangerous period until the age of three, when its soul and
spirit were too weak to defend themselves from evil spirits. As a precaution, therefore,

77
Heike monogatari jō, 228; McCullough, Heike 111.
78
David T. Bialock, Eccentric Spaces, Hidden Histories: Narrative, Ritual, and Royal Authority from The
Chronicles of Japan to The Tale of the Heike, (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2007), 256.
79
Irene Lin, “Traversing Boundaries: The Demonic Child in the Medieval Japanese Religious Imaginaire”
(PhD diss., Stanford University, 2001), 165.

34

their hair was kept shaved.
80
After the age of three, the hair was allowed to grow,
resulting in an ambiguous gender distinction between the males and females.
81
It was not
until the boy reached the age of fifteen that he underwent “the ceremony of becoming an
adult (genpuku), where his hair was put up in a top-knot, or motodori, and a headdress
marking adulthood, or eboshi, was placed on his head, and his clothing changed to that of
adults. Therefore, hair, or more specifically, hairstyle became a social marker of
adulthood and thus full membership of society…if one deviated from or violated the
social norms, then [his] privileges as member of society [were] revoked. In consequence
his hairstyle [was] accordingly changed.”
82
Before genpuku, when the children finally
become gendered, they were still believed to belong to the “non-humans,”
83
or “hinin,”
one of the words used to described Shunkan’s unkempt appearance. In short, Shunkan’s
physical characteristics straddled the vague boundary between “nonhuman” (hinin), and
“child,” or Lin’s category of “dōji” , which may explain why Shunkan is so often
depicted as a child in the Heike.

Hajime Mizuhara and “Demon’s foot dragging”

As noted previously, the Heike scholar Mizuhara Hajime has speculated on why
in the Kakuichibon variant a separate episode, or “dan” should be named after Shunkan’s

80
Lin, “Traversing Boundaries,” 166.
81
Bernard Faure, Red Thread: Buddhist Approaches to Sexuality (New Jersey: Princeton University Press,
1998), 249-250.
82
Lin, “Traversing Boundaries,” 166.
83
According to Lin, “In medieval society, non-humans included not only the spiritual ‘others’ (animal
spirits, spirits of deceased humans, kami or buddhas), but also social ‘others’ (outcasts [hinin], children),”
87.

35

action of the foot-dragging. Nowhere else in the Heike variants is there a chapter named
after the action of a particular character rather than the person, place or event.
84
In
comparison, this same episode in the Engyōbon variant occurs in scroll two under the
title of “The pregnancy of Highness Kenreimon and the pardon of Naritsune”
(Kenreimonin gokainin koto tusketari naritsune shamen no koto).
85
Mizuhara also draws
attention to another aspect of Shunkan’s ashizuri, its connection to what is known as the
“Demon’s foot dragging” (oni no ashizuri).
86
As its name indicates, the island to which
Shunkan, Yasuyori and Naritsune were all banished, Kikai-ga-shima,
87
was in the
medieval imaginary regarded as the island of the demon world. Though it is unclear
where exactly this island was located, with some scholars arguing for a location west of
Kyushu and others closer to Shikoku or Okinawa, Mizuhara has proposed that it was the
modern day island of Iwo Jima in the Pacific Ocean.
In the Engyōbon variant, Kikai-ga-shima is actually referred to as “Iōjima,”
88
or
the sulfur island, due to the high quantity of sulfur that was mined from the island and
traded with China. Thus, the name Kikai-ga-shima refers to the island’s description of
the volcanic activity representing the world that the demons inhabit.
89
In order to
discourage and prohibit people from sailing to Kikai-ga-shima, Mizuhara suggests that
sailors would have encouraged the idea that demons actually inhabited the island, and
thus the name also came to be written as the “island of the demon” (oni ga shima

84
Mizuhara, Engyōbon heike monogatari ronkō, 324.
85
Engyōbon jō, 333.
86
Mizuhara, Engyōbon heike monogatari ronkō, 324.
87

88
; Kitahara Yasuo and Ogawa Eiichi, eds., Engyōbon heike monogatari, vol. 1 (Beneisha, 1990),
176.
89
Mizuhara, Engyōbon heike monogatari ronkō, 328.

36

).
90
Because humans never visited the island, the demons, fallen into a state of despair
and loneliness, began to perform the ashizuri. It is also possible that there is some
contamination of the demon and foot-dragging motif from an earlier story in the Ise
monogatari, touched on earlier. The sixth story of that collection describes how a woman
abducted by her lover was subsequently eaten by a demon. Overcome by grief, the
woman’s lover is described as crying out loud as he walked about dragging his feet.
91
In
this example, the demon is shown to be vicious and feared by men, which may explain
why sailors used demons to discourage people from sailing to the island. But demons
also have a human capacity for feeling lonely. If we accept Mizuhara’s argument, the
Shunkan in the Heike episodes has taken on characteristics of the Ise lover and combined
that with local beliefs about demons. To the child (dōji) and nonhuman (hinin) aspects of
Shunkan, discussed previously, we must now add the idea of Shunkan as demon (oni).
And as Irene Lin has argued, in her discussion of the demon, or oni, in medieval Japanese
culture, the oni is a character “who is not of this world but is in this world, similar to the
child. Demons [oni], like children, are interpreted and manipulated by different
institutions of power in their ideological discourse.”
92
And this, as we shall see, invests
Shunkan with a power of his own.
Because the oni is seen as part of the “nonhumans” (hinin) in medieval Japanese
society, they are placed alongside children at the outer border (kyōkai), or outer
peripheries of society. Though insignificant in the social hierarchy, they become
important labels of the “others,” or the “periphery,” in comparison to the “court” or

90
Ibid.
91
Morimoto Shigeru, Ise monogatari zenshaku, (Daigakudō Shoten, 1981), 151-152.
92
Lin, “Traversing Boundaries,” 50.

37

“center.” “They became symbols of ‘potentiality,’ albeit ambiguous, possessing both
positive and negative possibilities, both sacredness and pollution, and thus…effective
mediators between the inside and the outside realms in social, political, and religious
spheres.”
93

Shunkan’s very existence thus depends and is defined by the court’s, or in this
case Kiyomori’s, pardon. In this way, Kiyomori illustrates the power of the “center” in
comparison to the “other” by not allowing Shunkan to return back to the civilized world
of the capital with Yasuyori and Naritsune. To put this in a broader religious and
political perspective, according to the Japanese anthropologist, Yamaguchi Masao, the
tennō produced a symbolic space or realm in which his subjects viewed this realm
as sharply polarized between a center (capital) and periphery (other).
94
The center
defines the civilized world with the emperor at the center, and the periphery defines the
chaotic and strange. Any anomalies that occurred in the center, such as epidemics and
calamities, were thought to be caused by members of the periphery who trespassed into
the orderly center of the emperor. The periphery was therefore considered to be both
sacred and polluted, having powers that were both positive and negative.
95

Because of this center-periphery constellation, an interesting polity is created
between the emperor and the nonhumans. According to the seventh century Ritsuryō
codes, codes that were enforced to govern society, executions were to take place at the

93
Ibid., 51.
94
Masao Yamaguchi, “The Dual Structure of Japanese Emperorship,” Current Anthropology 23:4 (1987),
5-11.
95
Lin, “Traversing Boundaries,” 59.

38

center or the marketplace of the city.
96
However, in the eleventh century, a shift occurs
from the executions taking place in the center to the periphery, mainly along the
riverbanks.
97
In the same manner, by the eleventh century, the role of the emperor shifts
accordingly. The emperor, in tandem with the state, begins to act as dispellers of
pollution and pacifiers of angry ghosts and demons.
98
In order to do so, the emperor had
to first be removed from the pollution, resulting in the removal of the pollution in the
center. Hence, the emperor was now no longer a full member of society, much like the
nonhumans.
99
The emperor, by taking on the role of a purifier, must now also touch
defilement, shokue, in order to dispel it.
100
He therefore comes to share certain essential
traits and roles with the nonhumans. Because nonhumans were also involved in handling
and disposing of the dead, they also acted as purifiers. The emperor, state, and the
nonhumans were now all essentially related to each other as purifiers of society.
Earlier scholarship on the Shunkan cycle had argued that after his death,
Shunkan’s spirit became an onryō, or a malefic spirit, that contributed to the downfall of
the Heike clan. Since Shunkan’s malefic spirit was never pacified by the emperor, or by
the state or members of the Heike clan, his spirit is blamed as one of the reasons why the
Heike suffered numerous setbacks, which ultimately resulted in their defeat. It has been
argued that one of the reasons for including the Shunkan cycle in the Heike was to pacify
Shunkan’s spirit, especially when recited by the blind lute players.

96
Though Keirstead claims that the marketplace was part of the center, David Bialock in Eccentric Spaces,
Hidden Histories, 186-187; 286-287, along with Hyōdō Hiromi and other Japanese scholars, argues that
these marketplaces (ichiba), though located in the capital, were in their own right regarded as a periphery.
97
Thomas Keirstead, “Outcasts before the Law: Pollution and Purification in Medieval Japan,” in Currents
in Medieval Japanese History: Essays in Honor of Jeffrey P. Mass, Gordon M. Berger, Andrew Edmund
Goble, Lorraine F. Harrington, and G. Cameron Hurst III, eds., (Los Angeles, Figueroa Press, 2009), 289.
98
Ibid., 290.
99
Ibid.
100
Ibid., 291.

39

Though this is one common reading of the Shunkan cycle, we can also conclude
that through his association with nonhumans, Shunkan possesses some of the same
“powers” as the emperor.

40

CHAPTER FIVE
THE DIFFERENT VIEWPOINTS FOUND IN THE VARIANTS RETELLING
THE SHUNKAN CYCLE

The emotional state of Shunkan as he is left alone on Kikai-ga-shima is
heightened by his performance of the ashizuri. The ashizuri is only performed when the
character is in extreme emotional pain and/or suffering while weeping and crying. A
comparison of the variants, however, especially the Kakuichi text (performed by the biwa
hōshi) and the so-called reading texts (yomihon), such as the Engyōbon, show a striking
difference in the degree to which they identify with the emotional state of Shunkan.
Japanese Folklorist Yanagita Kunio and scholar Yamashita Hiroaki, for example, argue
that the Kakuichi is written from a first person point of view which create a stronger
emotional connection with the reader/listener. However, other scholars such as
Kobayashi Yoshikazu, would argue otherwise, citing the usage of certain terms used in
the Engyōbon. This suggests in turn that each variant may have performed a different
function, eliciting different responses from their audiences and readers.
In comparing the Kakuichi with the Engyōbon, there is a clear difference between
how Shunkan is presented, which may have influenced the degree to which the
reader/listener sympathized with Shunkan himself. All major Japanese scholars agree
that the Shunkan episode is one of the most melodramatic dan in any of the Heike
variants, creating an atmosphere full of high emotional tension and distress.
101
Yet, as
Japanese scholar Itō Takako shows, the Kakuichi presents the Shunkan story in a manner

101
Hyōdo Hiromi, “Shiryō to chinkon: Shunkan Ariō monogatari nōto,” Kokubungaku 31, Vol. 7, (June
1986), 62.

41

that heightens the audiences’ sympathy towards Shunkan and his emotional state of
distress and loneliness, while the Engyōbon represents him in a more objective manner
that downplays Shunkan as being the only character in a distraught state.
102
For example,
comparing the same passage from both the Kakuichi and Engyōbon:

Kakuichi:

‘The three of us are found guilty of the same crime and exiled to the same place.
Yet, why is it that when the pardon is issued, two are to be recalled and one must
be left behind? Did the Heike forget about me, or perhaps it was a mistake on
behalf of the secretary? How could such a thing happen to me?’ lamented the
weeping Shunkan as he looked to the heavens and flung himself to the ground
(ten ni aōgi chi ni fushite)
103
all in vain. ‘It is your father’s miserable conspiracy
that is to be blamed for my state of despair,’ exclaimed Shunkan as he clings to
Naritsune’s sleeve in a state of agony. ‘You cannot just forget about me!’
104

Engyōbon:

Shunkan kept rolling and unrolling the pardon, setting it down and picking it up
hundreds of times. He shed tears of grief as he was rolling on the ground crying
and screaming (fushimarobite omekisakebite). ‘The three are found guilty of the
same crime, sent to the same place of exile, and yet, now with the declaration of
this pardon, two are pardoned and I, Shunkan, am to be left behind it is
unimaginable!’ wailed Shunkan and he flung himself to the ground face-up to the
sky (ten ni aogi chi ni fushite),
105
once again crying and screaming
(omekisakebu).
106
When Shunkan compared the grief of when he first arrived on
this island, it was nowhere near comparable to the grief that he felt now. When he
thought about the being left behind, Shunkan had no idea what to do. Weeping
over and over again, [Shunkan] picked up the pardon. ‘Can this be a mistake by
the scriber? If not, how can it be that the Heike has forgotten that I was also exiled

102
Itō Takako. “Heike monogatari-shishi no tani jikken to shunkan zōkei: kakuichibon-engyōbon wo to
shite,” Kōyasan daigaku koku bungaku kai 12/13, (December 1986), 30.
103

104
Heike monogatari jō, 203.
105

106

42

to this island?’ Once again rolling about in agony as before, it was painful to
behold! (Mata hajime no gotoku modaekogarekeru koso muzan nare).
107
Two
people’s joy, one person’s grief, both joy and grief express the extremity of a
situation.
108

Returning to the earlier discussion on the different terms that can be used inter-
changeably or in place of the absence of ashizuri, once again, in these examples, we can
conclude that these terms, including ashizuri, are all used to heighten the grieving state of
the character. In both the Kakuichi and Engyōbon examples, the term “fushite” appears.
This, again, refers to the description of Shunkan lying on the ground, which will later
give rise to the image of Shunkan as a baby throwing a temper tantrum. However, in the
Engyōbon, the narration is more emotive through the usage of a third person point of
view (underlined in the translation). For example, in the Kakuichi variant, right after
Shunkan expresses his distress over the fact that he alone was not granted a pardon and is
to be left behind on Kikai-ga-shima, it is immediately followed by his personal plea to
Naritsune not to abandon him so easily. In the Engyōbon, however, the description of
Shunkan’s distress is followed by a third person point of view describing the miserable
state of Shunkan. The author of the Engyōbon, therefore, unlike the Kakuichi where it is
Shunkan’s continuous dialogue, inserts language sympathetic to Shunkan. This also acts
as a follow up to Shunkan’s direct expression of his feelings. In this manner, the author
of this section tries to identify himself, and therefore the reader, with Shunkan’s state of
despair. The author of the Engyōbon also uses the description of Shunkan “rolling on the
ground crying and screaming,” (fushimarobite omekisakebite). Again, we see the
reoccurrence of the combination of the terms “fushi” with “marobu,” but in conjunction

107

108
Engyōbon heike monogatari zenchūsaku jō, 111-126.

43

of “omeki” (to cry) and “sakebu” (to wail or scream) in order for the reader to fully
understand the extremes of Shunkan’s feeling of despair and grief.
Some scholars, such as by Itō, claim the Kakuichi gives the reader/listener a first
person’s (Shunkan’s) account of the situation, telling the reader/listener exactly what
Shunkan is feeling and thinking. This, therefore, heightens Shunkan’s emotional state,
which becomes the main point of focus. However, the Engyōbon, Itō argues, tries to
make Shunkan’s sentiments more personable and understandable to the reader by adding
commentary through a third person. By doing so, the main focus is no longer just
Shunkan’s emotional state, but also his pitiful circumstances that surround his grief, and
the observations made by the third person.
109
Other scholars, such as Murakami Manabu
and Kobayashi Yoshikazu, go further. Not only do they regard the Engyōbon as
sympathetic to Shunkan, but they argue that the Kakuichi, through its narrative katari
style, separates the listeners from Shunkan’s emotions. Kobayashi even suggests that the
term “muzan nare,” that the usage of the term is important as it conveys empathy on the
part of the author, and therefore creates a strong bond between reader and Shunkan’s
emotions.
110

As Shunkan continues to beg and plea to be taken aboard the ship, even if only to
the shores of Kyushu, his emotional state escalates into a state of despair and he begins to
perform the action of the ashizuri on the shoreline, where the vessel is docked. In
commenting on the description of the departing vessel, the Heike scholar Yamashita

109
Itō, “Heike monogatari-shishi no tani jikken to shunkan zōkei,” 31.
110
Kobayashi Yoshikazu, Heike monogatari no seiritsu, (Izumi shoin, 2000), 260; Murakami Manabu,
Heike monogatari to katari, (Miyai shoten, 1992).

44

Hiroaki points out the usage of the term “only” (bakari), which occurs in the Kakuichi
version but not in the Engyōbon variant:

Kakuichi

‘Let me go with you! Take me!’ he shrieked. But the boat went off, leaving
behind only (bakari) “a wake of white waves,” as is the way of journeying
boats.
111

Engyōbon

As their boat cleaved the waves and they heard his [Shunkan’s] sobbing voice in
the distance, they imagined what the must be feeling, and both the Left Lieutenant
[Naritsune] and Yasuyori wept tears of grief that obscured their view of the sky as
they traveled. What envy he must have felt [seeing] the white waves in the wake
of departing boat rowing [out on the sea] (Omekisakebu koe no harukani name wo
wakite kikoekereba, makoto ni sakoso omourame to, shōshō mo Yasuyori mo tomo
ni namida wo nagashite, tsuyatsuya yuku sora mo nakarikeri. Kogiyuku fune no
ato no shiranami, sakoso urayamashiku obosarekeme).
112

According to Yamashita, this “only” is important because it enhances Shunkan’s
emotions from his viewpoint. Yamashita interprets the “only” as highlighting Shunkan’s
despair and his hatred towards his colleagues who abandoned him on the island. Yet in
the Engyōbon, this “only” is not present. Instead, Yamashita argues, the reader is given a
more objective viewpoint, including not only Shunkan’s emotional anxiety, but also a
description of Naritsune’s and Yasuyori’s grief and pain at leaving Shunkan behind.
113

Yet it may be that Yamashita’s argument is biased toward the Kakuichi variant.
In examining the Engyōbon (and although not included here the Nagatobon passage as

111
Heike monogatari jō, 206; McCullough, Heike, 100.
112
Engyōbon heike monogatari zenchūsaku jō, 121-125.
113
Yamashita Hiroaki, “Kokubungaku hyōshaku,” Kokubungaku (June 1978), 31.

45

well), this issue of viewpoint becomes a more complex matter. As other commentators
have noted, it is unclear to whose viewpoint is being expressed in the Engyōbon
description of the departing ship. The envy (urayamashi) could be that of Shunkan as he
watches the boat depart. Yet, the respect form of the verb, “obosarekemu,” suggests that
the scene could be presented through the eyes of Naritsune and Yasuyori. If this were to
be the case, the viewpoint would be that of Naritsune and Yasuyori looking back from the
boat toward the shore where Shunkan was left alone.
114
By allowing a third person point
of view, this passage in the Engyōbon conveys a more evocative imagery of the misery,
despair and grief that is not only felt by Shunkan, but also by Naritsune and Yasuyori.
Yanagita’s scholarship continues to be the source for many of these notions about
conveying “sympathy” to the audience for the cycle of Shunkan-related stories.
Examining a later sequence after the ashizuri scene, Yanagita argued that in the Kakuichi,
we are given the first person point of view from Ariō’s perspective, who was able to
converse with Shunkan and witness his death. This is important because Ariō is then able
to transmit Shunkan’s lived emotional experience and disseminate it through the vehicle
of Shunkan’s story.
115
The Heike scholar Mizuhara Hajime, on the other hand, has
argued that it is Yasuyori who should be credited with writing and recalling the Shunkan
story. Throughout the Heike, though the audience should feel some resentment towards
Yasuyori and Naritsune for so easily abandoning Shunkan, there are never any negative
comments about the two after their return to the capital. Yasuyori later also became an
author of an important collection of medieval setsuwa entitled Hōbutsu shū (ca. 1177-
1181) after his return to the capital, which scholars, such as Tomikura Tokujirō,

114
Engyōbon heike monogatari zenchūsaku jō, 128-129.
115
Yanagita Kunio, Yanagita Kunio shū, (Kadokawa shoten, 1973), 76.

46

suggesting that Yasuyori wrote the setsuwa to reflect favorably on himself.
116
Moreover,
Yasuyori, a strong believer in the Kumano faith, could have influenced the way Shunkan
is presented within the Heike as an irreligious man.
117
David Bialock discusses how the
Engyōbon incorporates a debate between Yasuyori, practitioner and defender of the
Kumano faith, and Shunkan
118
, who argues that all “kami [or gods] including those
worshiped by Yasuyori and Naritsune, are nonexistent and hence a form of heretical
belief.”
119
Thus, there is a split between among the Heike variants between the first
person point of view and an objective, or third person point of view on the story
surrounding Shunkan.
Because of this differences, the Kakuichi Heike, which was meant to be recited by
the biwa hōshi, holds a special power in which Shunkan’s voice is communicated directly
to the listeners. The Kakuichibon eliminates the many other collateral interests presented
in the Engyōbon to focus more narrowly on Shunkan’s plight. With the first person
point of view in the Kakuichi, Shunkan is presented as if he himself were speaking
directly to the listeners. As Thomas Conlan argues in another context, by reading
documents out loud, official reciters in medieval Japan functioned as a kind of shaman
who brought back the traces, or the speech of another.
120
In this manner, the biwa hōshi
also acted as intermediaries between Shunkan’s spirit and the living.

116
Tomikura Tokujirō, Heike monogatari zen chūshaku jō maki, (Kadokawa shoten, 1966), 440.
117
Mizuhara, “Engyōbon heike monogatari ronkō,” 328.
118
For the full discussion, see Bialock, Eccentric Spaces, Hidden Histories, 260-269.
119
Bialock, Eccentric Spaces, Hidden Histories, 264.
120
Thomas D. Conlan, “Traces of the Past: Documents, Literacy, and Liturgy in Medieval Japan,” in
Currents in Medieval Japanese History: Essays in Honor of Jeffrey P. Mass, Gordon M. Berger, Andrew
Edmund Goble, Lorraine F. Harrington, and G. Cameron Hurst III, eds., (Los Angeles: Figueroa Press,
2009), 30.

47

CHAPTER SIX
NŌ AND SHUNKAN

The Shunkan cycle first assumes form in the Heike variants, but later becomes a
popular theme in plays of the nō, jōruri, and kabuki traditions. Within the nō theatre,
“Shunkan, along with Yuya, and Matsukaze, is one of the three nō plays that one never
tires of performing.”
121
The nō version of Shunkan has been categorized as a “human
feeling” play (ninjō mono)
122
in the fourth category of Phenomenal nō drama in one
act.
123
The earliest English translation of Shunkan was published in Monumenta
Nipponica in January of 1941.
124
Since then, it has been translated numerous times, the
most recent being in 2005 by Kunio Komparu, a respected nō actor. Opinions on the
authorship have changed. It was first believed to be composed by Zeami Motokiyo, one
of the originators of nō theatre. However, recent scholars attribute the play to either

121
Nagayama Kozō, interview by author, telephone, June 5, 2010.
122
Eileen Katō, “Shunkan,” Karen Brazell, eds., An Anthology of Plays: Traditional Japanese Theater,
(New York: Columbia University Press, 1998), 179.
123
Kunio Komparu, Noh: The Noh Theater Principles and Perspectives, (Warren: First Floating World,
2005), uses the termology of “phenomenal” to represent a genre of nō that is based upon the experiences of
someone who actually lived in the real world. In this genre, the passing of time often coincides with the
real passage of time for the audience (75). I should note that this is similar to the term “genzai,” or present,
which refers to the shite living in the present “real” time. Komparu contrasts “phenomenal” with
“phantasmal,” where the manipulation of time and space go far beyond what is found in conventional
drama. Often time, this genre has a flexibility of time and space where the shite is often disguised as a
ghost recalling a memory of the past (76-77). I should note that this is similar to the term “mugen,” or
dream like, that features deities, plant and animal spirits, and ghosts of humans; Kunio Komparu, Noh: The
Noh Theater Principles and Perspectives, (Warren: First Floating World, 2005), 326.
124
For English translations of “Shunkan” see, C.K. Parker and Morisawa Sanrō, “Shunkan. A No Play,”
Monumenta Nipponica 4, no. 1, (January 1941), Eileen Katō, “Shunkan,” Karen Brazell, eds., An
Anthology of Plays: Traditional Japanese Theater, (New York: Columbia University Press, 1998), 178-
192, and Kunio Komparu, Noh: The Noh Theater Principles and Perspectives, (Warren: First Floating
World, 2005), 326-342. For the Japanese text see, Takagi Ichinosuke, eds., Yōkyoku shū, vol. 41 of NKBT,
(Iwanami shoten, 1963) 414-417, Yokomichi Mario and Omote Akira, eds., Yōkyokushū ge, vol. 41 of
NKBT, (Iwanami shoten, 1963), 414-417.

48

Zenchiku or Zeami’s son, Motomasa.
125
It is not clear which sources the author relied
upon while writing Shunkan, but in the Preface to their translation, C.K. Parker and
Morisawa Sanrō believed that the facts were drawn from the Genpei jōsuiki and the Heike
monogatari, since the Heike was the earliest and only source for the Shunkan story.
126

Unlike other Heike based nō dramas, Shunkan
127
is unique in the fact that
Shunkan as the shite, or main role, does not appear as a ghost (as in Atsumori) but as a
living human being, nor does he achieve any sort of relief or resolve from his pains and
sufferings at the end of the drama. In fact, the play ends at the height of Shunkan’s
despair and suffering on the desolated Kikai-ga-shima island.

The Possible Impact of Nō Origins on the Shunkan Story

Although the authorship behind the nō version of the Shunkan cycle remains
debated, it is clear that the author created Shunkan with the intention of departing from
the “dream play” (mugen nō) pattern typical of Heike based plays. In the mugen nō
dramas, especially those that revolve around the Heike, usually the shite appears in
disguise and reveals himself to be an un-pacified ghost of the past. At the end of the
mugen nō drama, the shite is often pacified, which emphasizes placation as a significant
ritual motif. However, in the case of Shunkan, the author ends the drama on Shunkan’s
heightened emotional state of distress, hence Shunkan is never pacified in the nō drama.

125
Katō, “Shunkan,” 180.
126
C.K. Parker and Morisawa Sanrō, “Shunkan. A No Play,” Monumenta Nipponica 4, no. 1, (January
1941) 246; hereafter “C.K. Parker.”
127
In reference to the Shunkan text, I will be using: Koyama Hiroshi and Sato Kenichirō, “Shunkan,”
Yōkyokushū, Vol. 2 Shōgakukan (1998).

49

Theories on the origins of the nō theatre can be divided into two major
approaches: those that rely on actual actors and their lineages, and those that rely on the
analysis of nō texts, performance records, and anything that is related to the performing
aspects (dance, music, country performances).
128
Scholars of both approaches are in
basic agreement that the present form of the nō theatre, founded in the fourteenth century,
is a modification of earlier theatrical performance traditions, such as sarugaku, dengaku,
and sangaku, dating back to the Heian period.
129

Kannami and Zeami, who were father and son, are generally regarded as the
founders of the nō theatre. Through their adaptation and incorporation of elements from
these earlier theatrical traditions, they created a new genre of drama that was
subsequently sponsored by the Ashikaga Shōgun. The link between the lineage of
Kannami and Zeami to medieval nonhuman groups, such as the Asobi clan, who
specialized in funeral rites and the pacification of the dead, may also explain the role of
Buddhist pacification rites for dead spirits and the frequent usage of ghosts as
protagonists in their nō dramas.
130

This link to ritual pacification may also be reflected in the music of nō and the
gestures of nō actors, which have been traced back to the shamanistic rituals of ancient
Japan that conjure up the dead or invite the gods (kami) to manifest themselves. For
example, the drums used in nō (both the hand drum tsuzumi and the lap drum ōkawa)
were also used as traditional trance-inducing instruments; the flute, as an instrument for

128
Benito Ortolani, “Shamanism in the Origins of the Nō Theatre,” Asian Theatre Journal 1, no. 2,
(Autumn, 1984), 167.
129
Ibid., 168.
130
Akima Toshio, “The Songs of the Dead: Poetry, Drama and Ancient Death Rituals of Japan,” Journal of
Asian Studies 41, (May 1982), 501-507.

50

the invitation of the gathering of the dead; and the strange and eerie yelling of the
percussionists called kakigoe, to conjure the gods to manifest themselves. Even the
movement behind the walking of a nō actor, ashisuri, the smooth gliding across the stage,
imitates the midair floating of ghosts or supernatural beings. Finally, the stamping of the
feet by the nō actors has been linked to the pacification rituals of the souls of the dead in
spirit-quelling (tamashizume) rituals of the ancient kagura mai, primitive shamanistic
nature dances.
131
One theory behind the ashizuri action links it to such pacification rituals,
claiming that the stomping of the feet pacifies the malevolent spirit. Yet, the paradox is
that Shunkan seems to deliberately avoid becoming the typical “spirit pacification” play,
exemplified in Atsumori, Yashima and other mugen style nō plays based on Heike
episodes, especially the so-called warrior plays.
The conjuring and pacification of the dead spirit, and the resolution of the pacified
spirit’s grief and attachment at the conclusion of the drama, typical of many dream
(mugen) style nō plays are not present in Shunkan. Rather, Shunkan is one of the only
plays in the nō repertoire in which the leading role is a living person whose emotional
suffering remains unresolved at the play’s conclusion. In order to emphasize this,
moreover, the shite who performs the role of Shunkan wears a mask specially made for
this particular play. Eileen Katō notes that because “Shunkan’s suffering is so intense…a
special mask was created for this role, even though most living middle-aged male
character are played bare faced (hitamen).”
132
By having this special Shunkan mask, it
sets this play apart from others that depict living human being, as opposed to dead spirits.

131
Honda Yasuji, trans. Frank Hoff, “Yamabushi Kagura and Bangaku: Performance in the Japanese
Middle Ages and Contemporary Folk Performances,” Educational Theatre Journal 26, no. 2, (May 1974),
195-197.
132
Katō, “Shunkan,” 179.

51

Depending on the presentation of Shunkan, the mask can be worn with three different
head coverings: “a peaked head covering often used by religious figures (sumi-bōshi), a
draped hood (hana bōshi), or a large black headpiece (kuro gashira).”
133
It is interesting
to note the usage of the kuro gashira headpiece for Shunkan. The kuro gashira is usually
reserved for supernatural beings, deities, demons, or ghosts.
134
Thus, recalling the earlier
discussion on Shunkan becoming the oni on Kikai-ga-shima, by representing Shunkan
with the kuro gashira, he can be equated to being a demon-like, non-human figure. Yet,
the author clearly presents Shunkan in a very sympathetic and human light among the
characters in the play (this is especially highlighted in the Taoist tradition of exchanging
wine between friends). It may seem that there is a deliberate attempt by the author to
counter the idea of Shunkan as a demon. On the other hand, the usage of the kuro
gashira, may to suggest that demons are as human-like and capable of feelings as human
beings. Though the author describes Kikai-ga-shima as an island inhabited by demons
and fiends (oni aru tokoro ni te, konjyō yori no meido nari),
135
these demons (and gods)
could surely be moved by Shunkan’s misery (kishin mo kanno wo nasunarumo, hito no
aharenaru mono wo).
136
In this manner, the drama is not about the pacification of
Shunkan, but instead, one that highlights the ashizuri concept that can be traced back to
the Heike, while providing a sympathetic view of Shunkan.

133
Ibid.
134
Komparu, Noh: The Noh Theater Principles and Perspectives, 248.
135
Yōkyokushū, Vol. 2, 308.
136
From the Chinese preface (mana) to the Kokinshū by Ki no Yoshimochi, Saeki Umetomo, ed., Kokin
wakashū, NKBT, vol. 8, Iwanami shoten (1958), 348; Yōkyokushū, Vol. 2, 308.

52

Differences Between the Heike variants and Nō Version of Shunkan’s Story;
Adapting the Shunkan Story for Drama

Shunkan opens with a standard nō format of a nanori, or a brief segment
announcing a name, followed by a michiyuki, or a travel song. A messenger from the
capital than announces to the audience that he must journey to Kikai-ga-shima to deliver
the written pardon stating that both Naritsune and Yasuyori are allowed to return from
their exile on Kikai-ga-shima. Following this scene, the audience is transported to Kikai-
ga-shima, with the entrance of Naritsune and Yasuyori on their “pilgrimage” of the sites
on the island that resemble those of the Kumano pilgrimage. Shunkan, dressed as a poor
fisherman, makes his entrance on the bridge carrying with him pail of “sake,” or wine (in
reality, a pail of spring water), after both Naritsune and Yasuyori take their sitting
position on the stage. Unlike the preceding spoken lines, Shunkan delivers his lines in
non-congruent dynamic mode,
137
hyōshi awazu, where the style of the nō song has no
fixed relationship between the syllables of the text and the beats of the drums. He laments
how he has fallen into a living hell, becoming the protector of Kikai-ga-shima (kikai-ga-
shima ga shimamori to),
138
plunging yet deeper and deeper into darkness while being
exiled to the island.
139
Within Shunkan’s opening speech, he recalls a Chinese poem:

137
Katō, “Shunkan,” 183.
138
Yōkyokushū, Vol. 2, 304.
139
Within Shunkan’s opening speech, he weaves together images from both Chinese and Japanese poems.
These poems are not referenced in the Heike variants. For full English translation, see Katō, “Shunkan,”
183-184. For the Japanese text, see Koyama Hiroshi and Sato Kenichirō, “Shunkan,” 304.

53

‘The bright jade moon-hare (gyokuto) sleeps by day
in barren mica lands,
the golden sun-crow (kinkei) roosts by night
upon a bare black branch.’
140

Neither the poem, nor the rest of Shunkan’s opening speech, is present in the
Heike variants. This poem, from an unidentified Chinese source,
141
is especially
important because it gives the reader or audience an insight into Shunkan’s thinking and
feelings.
142
Often quoted by figures fallen from former glory,
143
this poem describes the
imagery of the night (represented by the imagery of the moon-hare, gyokuto) with no
moon to shine, the day with no sun (represented by the golden sun-crow, kinkei) to shine,
suggesting that this world (in this case, Kikai-ga-shima) is in utter darkness.
144
The
author of Shunkan could also be foreshadowing the end of the play when Shunkan is left
alone on Kikai-ga-shima. This passage is also used as a technique to enhance the
dramatic impact upon the reader and audience. The author uses this dark scene to
contrast a happier, brighter one that follows directly after, where the three exiles
reminisce about their past lives in the capital.
145

In the following scene that directly follows the above dark monologue by
Shunkan, the author contrasts it with a scene where Shunkan joins his fellow exiles to
emphasize the camaraderie among them. This scene of camaraderie is not presented
within the Heike variants. As a show of friendship, Shunkan offers to share spring water

140
Yōkyokushū, Vol. 2, 304; Katō, “Shunkan,” 183.
141
Katō, “Shunkan,” 183.
142
Hayashi Nozomu, “Shunkan: gō choku to meren,” in Korenara wakaru nō no omoshirosa, (Kyoto:
Tankōsha, 2006), 85-86.
143
Katō, “Shunkan,” 183.
144
Yōkyokushū, Vol. 2, 304.
145
Hayashi, “Shunkan: gō choku to meren,” 86.

54

that he calls wine (iishu).
146
Yasuyori comments on how the “wine” is but spring water
from the island, to which Shunkan counters by explaining how the word for wine was
first used to reference the elixir (reishu) that seemed to be water.
147
To this, Naritsune
and Yasuyori both agree, explaining how this is the ninth month. The ninth day of the
ninth month represents a time for the chrysanthemum feast and the gathering of friends
where they would exchange cups of sake (kikushu) that represent the Taoist immortals’
elixir of life.
148
Here, Kikai-ga-shima takes on the characteristics of an island of the
immortals.
149
It is no longer a place of a living hell, but one of everlasting life. They
reminisce about their past lives in the capital, creating a cheerful mood at first that
eventually becomes one more mournful. However, this scene creates a special bond
between the three exiles that they share among themselves. This technique of contrasting
scenes creates a more dramatic affect that will later be recreated by Chikamatsu
Monzaemon in his drama on Shunkan.
Soon to follow is the arrival of the messenger from the capital, revealing that both
Naritsune and Yasuyori have been pardoned, but not Shunkan. The nō version follows
the Engyōbon, with Shunkan frantically looking for his name or title in the pardon or on
the wrapper of the pardon itself. Finding no trace of his name or title, Shunkan laments
his fate, sitting and weeping on the ground while pounding his fist. During this episode,
the nō text incorporates and develops the dream (yume) versus reality (utsutsu) trope that
also occurs in the Heike variants. For example, Shunkan is constantly making reference
to whether or not he is dreaming. He asks himself “is this a dream? If this is not a dream,

146
Yōkyokushū, Vol. 2, 304.
147
Ibid.
148
Takagi, Yōkyoku shū, 415.
149
Hayashi, “Shunkan: gō choku to meren,” 86.

55

let me wake from it, let me wake up! (kore ha yume ka satemo yumenaraba, sameyo
sameyo to utsutsunaki)”
150
This reference to dreams inverts the more typical structure of
the dream play by emphasizing the reality of Shunkan’s emotional and bodily suffering.
This play is framed even further by this dream versus reality trope with the arrival
and departure of the messenger and sailors at sea. As stated earlier, Shunkan’s opening
monologue creates an illusion that Kikai-ga-shima is not part of reality but a place that
exists in another world.
151
Shunkan laments, “[not having to] wait to die to go to the
world of the dead, I have already fallen into the world of the demons. I have become the
protector of Kikai-ga-shima, following a path from a dark [place] to yet a darker one
(naru mi no hate no kuraki yori, kuraki michi ni zo haeri ni keru).”
152
Here, the author
reminds the audience that Shunkan is not part of the world of the living or dead, but in a
state of limbo. The author furthers this feature by implying that Kikai-ga-shima is an
island of the immortals with its elixir that exiles exchange. Yet, with the arrival of the
messenger and sailors, this dream world is shattered with the intrusion of the boat. It is
as if the audience is awakened from a dream and being reminded of reality as “the fair
winds answered the prayers of the gallant sailors, the boat speedily [traveled towards
Kikai-ga-shima]. ‘Through all of our efforts, we have swiftly arrived at Kikai-ga-
shima.”
153
Here, the author reminds the audience that Kikai-ga-shima is part of reality,
and more so, that Shunkan’s state is one of misery and loneliness.

150
Yōkyokushū, Vol. 2, 308.
151
Recalling the earlier discussion about the center and periphery, in many ways, from the court centered
view, Kikai-ga-shima is considered to be part of another world.
152
Yōkyokushū, Vol. 2, 304.
153
Ibid., 306.

56

In order to further emphasize Shunkan’s absolute loneliness, the author chooses to
limit the complex scenic descriptions of Kikai-ga-shima that are found in the Heike
variants. Instead the only description of the island that is given is when Shunkan laments
how he must be left behind alone on the wild, dreadful, fearsome, rugged shores of the
island (samo osoroshiku susamajiki, araiso jima ni tada hitori).
154
The author also
incorporates several images that are associated with the motif of loneliness such as
seaweed and sea debris (sutegusa, mokuzu),
155
associated with fishermen/fisherwomen
(ama) and plovers (chidori).
156
Though images of sutegusa and mokuzu are mentioned in
the Heike variants, and the ama in the Genpei and Nagatobon, the description of the
chidori
157
is a new addition to the Shunkan story.
After a moving and touching scene that conveys the frantic, pleading and sobbing
Shunkan begging to be allowed off the island, the messenger, Naritsune, and Yasuyori
make preparations to depart for to the capital. Shunkan, “over come with the
wretchedness of his life (sasuga inochi no samishisai ni), clings onto the mooring rope
and tries to hold back the boat. But, the sailors cut the hawsers and pushed [the boat] out
into deep [waters].”
158
This is an amplification of the same Heike scene where Shunkan
pulls at the boat’s mooring ropes. This scene, once again, increases and intensifies the
physicality and the nightmarish reality of Shunkan’s suffering and pain. This might also
be read as subverting to the more metaphorical idea of the boat (fune) as the greater

154
Ibid., 308.
155
Seaweed was a popular image to describe the loneliness or longing of a person in Nara literature.
156
Yōkyokushū, Vol. 2, 308.
157
Later Chikamatsu Monzaemon will incorporate a new character into the Shunkan story named Chidori.
158
Yōkyokushū, Vol. 2, 310.

57

vehicle that transports suffering mortals to the “other shore” of the Buddhist
enlightenment (fudaraku watari).
159

Unable to bear his misery, “Shunkan no longer had the strength to stand.
Returning back to the shore, he collapsed (hirefushite) [on the beach]. Sobbing aloud,
‘Even Lady Sayo of Matsura’s [misery] is no greater than mine!
160
’”
161
Here, we come
across the term “hirefusu,” instead of “ashizuri” that is presented in the same scene in the
Heike variants. However, recalling the earlier discussion on the evolution of the terms
association with ashizuri, we can conclude that the term “hirefusu” is connected to the
ashizuri action. Though the term “ashizuri” is nowhere explicitly used in Shunkan, the
play enacts rather than describes the ashizuri action.
The drama reaches its climax with Shunkan yelling out towards the departing boat
to Naritsune and Yasuyori,
‘I [Shunkan] beg of you, I am depending on you!’
[And] as the reply of ‘Wait a while, oh wait a while!’ grew fainter, so did the
physical form that gradually grew far away in the waves of the distant (shidai ni
tōzakarau oki tsu nami no kasukanaru koe taete). All trace of the boat and all
trace of people faded from view (funa kage mo hito kage mo kiete miezunarinikeri
ato kiete), their traces vanishing from sight (ato kiete miezunarinikeri).
162

This passage echoes the Kakuichi’s “the vessel went off, leaving behind only ‘a
wake of white waves (kogiyuku fune no narainite, ato wa shiranami bakari nari).’”
163

Recalling the earlier discussion of this same passage, it is unclear from which viewpoint
this scene in Shunkan is being observed. It seems as if this last passage shifts in its point

159
Toshio, “The Songs of the Dead: Poetry, Drama, and Ancient Death Rituals of Japan,” 488.
160
The author of Shunkan takes this imagery of Lady Sayo of Matsura directly from the Kakuichi, see
Ichiko, Heike monogatari jō, 206.
161
Koyama and Sato, “Shunkan,” 310.
162
Yōkyokushū, Vol. 2, 311.
163
Ichiko, Heike monogatari jō, 206; McCullough, Heike, 100.

58

of view back and forth from Shunkan looking at the departing boat from the shore and the
departed exiles on the boat looking back at Shunkan until everything vanishes from view.
This ending is in accord with the mugen nō pattern that typically concludes a play on the
note that all is an illusion.
164
Yet, Shunkan is not a mugen nō drama, but a genzai nō
drama that is very real, visceral and psychological. By switching back and forth between
the viewpoints from Shunkan and the exiles on the departing boat, Shunkan evokes not
only the anguished viewpoint of Shunkan, but also those of the departing exiles as they
part from one another, and in this case, forever. Thus, as the boat vanishes, so does the
hope for Shunkan to return back to the “real” world. The stage directions calls upon the
actor to sit and weep, and then stand and face the curtain (age maku) and weep, in which
this sort of weeping ending is called shiori-dome.
165
It is almost as if the author wanted
to stress the living agony of Shunkan, forever in a state of limbo.

164
Komparu, Noh: The Noh Theater Principles and Perspectives, 78.
165
Yōkyokushū, Vol. 2, 311.

59

CHAPTER SEVEN
CHIKAMATSU MONZAEMON AND HEIKE NYŌGO GA SHIMA

Regarded as one of Japan’s most famous playwrights, Chikamatsu Monzaemon
(1653-1724) composed the scene Kikai-ga-shima no ba (Demon’s Island) as part of the
second act of his five act Heike nyōgo ga shima
166
(Heike and the Island of Women), in
1719. The original version was first performed in Osaka’s Takemoto Theatre as a puppet
production, or ningyō jōruri. Heike nyōgo ga shima
167
was later adapted for kabuki in
January 1720 at Osaka’s Naka Theatre, starring the kabuki actor Anegawa Shinshirō in
the role of Shunkan. In the mid-eighteenth century, Ichikawa Danzō III’s portrayal of
Shunkan became a mega success, leading to “Kikai-ga-shima no ba” being presented as
an independent act from the rest of the play, a tradition that continues to the present day.
Chikamatsu Monzaemon was born Sugimori Nobumori in 1653, roughly 50 years
after Tokugawa Ieyasu had unified all of Japan, in the city of Fukui in the prefecture of
Echizen. His father, Sugimori Nobuyoshi, served Lord Matsuhira as a medical doctor.
Not much is recorded about Chikamatsu’s early years, but when Chikamatsu was still a
young child, due to some misfortune, his father became a ronin, or master-less samurai
and therefore had to relocate his family from Echizen to Kyoto.
168
However, while living

166
In reference to the jōruri text, I will be using: Sakaguchi Kōyuki, “Heike nyōgo ga shima,” found in
Chikamatsu Monzaemon shū 3, (Shogakukan 2000), 458-550. For English translations, see: Samuel L.
Leiter, “Shunkan,” in The Art of Kabuki: Famous Plays in Performance, (Berkeley and Los Angeles:
California University Press, 1979), 173-205; Samuel L. Leiter, “Shunkan on Devil Island,” found in Karen
Brazell, eds., An Anthology of Plays: Traditional Japanese Theater, (New York: Columbia University
Press, 1998), 418-442.
167
The reference here to the “island of women” within the title is based on act three of the original text in
which the beautiful Lady Tokiwa lures men, one after another, into her palace.
168
Konishi Tatsuichi, NHK ningen nihon rekishi: Chikamatsu Monzaemon, (Kabushikaisha rishū sha,
2000), 13. For English scholarships, see: Andrew C. Gerstle, Chikamatsu: 5 Late Plays, (New York:

60

in Kyoto, from around ten years of age, Chikamatsu worked for an aristocratic family,
learning Japanese and Chinese Classical literature. This would become the basis for his
love of the classics that would later influence his dramas for the puppet and Kabuki
theatres. Chikamatsu was first introduced to the puppet theatre during his studies under
his aristocratic family, but could not actively participate or affiliate himself with it in fear
of disgracing his family’s social status as a samurai. During his twenties, Chikamatsu
secluded himself for further study of the classics in the Chikamatsu Temple in the
prefecture of Omi. It is from this temple’s name that most scholars believe that
Chikamatsu picked his pen name.
169
Upon his return to Kyoto, Chikamatsu wrote dramas
for the puppet theatre of Uji Kaganojō, attaining instant fame for his works. Due to his
talents, he was recruited to write for the up and coming young talent, Gidayu Taiyū, who
had recently opened a new puppet theater named Takemoto Theatre in Osaka. In 1694, at
the age of forty-one, Chikamatsu decided to no longer work for the puppet theater and
became the sole writer to the famous Kabuki actor, Sakata Tōjūrō.
170
However, in 1704,
Chikamatsu quit writing for Sakata and once again returned to the puppet theatre. There
is no recorded reason why Chikamatsu had a sudden urge to return to the puppet theatre.
Scholars disagree on his reason, Keene, for example, claims that Chikamatsu left kabuki
because he felt that the puppet theater proved to be more popular than kabuki, or perhaps
Chikamatsu did not like the interpretations of the kabuki actors were acting his scripts.
171

However, Japanese historian Konishi Tatsuichi states that it is because Sakata was

Columbia University Press, 2001); Chikamatsu Monzaemon, Donald Keene, trans., Major Plays of
Chikamatsu, (New York: Columbia University Press, 1990).
169
Konishi, NHK ningen nihon rekishi: Chikamatsu Monzaemon, 37.
170
Ibid., 45.
171
Chikamatsu Monzaemon, Donald Keene, trans., Major Plays of Chikamatsu, 4-5.

61

already way beyond his peak as a Kabuki actor and Chikamatsu did not want to write for
just any Kabuki actor.
172
It was during Chikamatsu’s second return to the puppet theatre
that he composed Heike and the Island of Women. From Chikamatsu’s vast experience
and learning, we can assume that he had a command over classical and medieval
literature. Hence, when composing Heike and the Island of Women, he would use the
foot-dragging action to describe the heightened emotional state of despair performed by
the person who is confronted by the fear of abandonment.

Major Differences in Chikamatsu’s version of Shunkan’s Story

The major focus of the medieval Kakuichi Heike and nō version of Shunkan is
Shunkan’s emotional state of agony and pain at being left alone on Kikai-ga-shima.
However, by the Edo period, there was a shift of focus from emphasizing Shunkan’s
emotional anguish to presenting him as a model of a hero that is idolized by the
townsmen. This is especially illustrated in Chikamatsu’s jōruri text for the puppet theatre.
Although Chikamatsu’s portrayal of Shunkan is close to the medieval portrayal of
Shunkan (other Edo period literature often emphasizes and incorporates into their
interpretations of the Shunkan story religious, political, or social commentary on issues
that plagued Edo society), Chikamatsu still modifies the story to appeal to the general
society of his time. He appeals, for example, to the public’s sympathy for Shunkan’s
plight that is not based on his emotional state, but rather as a symbol of a hero who

172
Konishi, NHK ningen nihon rekishi: Chikamatsu Monzaemon, 74.

62

defends his family. In order to portray Shunkan as such a hero, one such modification
was the introduction of new characters to the Shunkan story.
Chikamatsu introduces two new major characters, Chidori and Senō Tarō
Kaneyasu. Chidori is a young girl who makes her living as a deep-sea diver, or ama.
She is from a nearby island and happens to have met Naritsune during his exile on Kikai-
ga-shima. The two fall in love, and their marriage is performed on Kikai-ga-shima by
Shunkan, and witnessed by Yasuyori. It is Chidori, moreover, who, when she is not
granted permission to return to the capital with her new husband, performs the ashizuri
action in the play. Senō is the official messenger (not Tanzaemon in the Heike traditions
and nō drama) whom Kiyomori sends to deliver Naritsune’s and Yasuyori’s pardon. In
Chikamatsu’s drama, Senō takes the role of the villain who antagonizes Shunkan and is
eventually killed by him. The introduction of both these characters helps Chikamatsu
transform Shunkan into a hero idolized by the Edo period townsmen.

Chidori: the Love Story

By introducing the character Chidori, Chikamatsu incorporates a woman’s
viewpoint in an otherwise all male centered drama. Chikamatsu, in contrast to Heike
versions, is not sponsored by any political and religious institutions, and therefore is able
to portray Shunkan as a sympathetic heroic icon that appeals to the chōnin, or merchants,
who were the major patrons of the jōruri and kabuki theatres. A popular subject matter
among the chōnin was the concept of human lust and desire, sometimes mistakenly we

63

equate to the concept of love.
173
We see this subject matter also present in Chikamatsu’s
other works, such as “Sonezaki Shinjū” (“The Love Suicides at Sonezaki”), and
“Shinjūten no Amijima”
(“The
Love
Suicides
at
Amijima”).
Chikamatsu thus uses
Chidori to introduce the concept of love, and by doing so, illustrates a more humane and
caring Shunkan who embodies the code of conduct admirable to any chōnin.
174

At the end of the first act in Heike and the Island of Women, Shigemori is
unsuccessful in trying to persuade Kiyomori to grant Shunkan a pardon. Instead,
Shigemori, who feels great compassion towards Shunkan, secretly issues him a pardon
and entrusts it to Tanzaemon. The Demon’s Island scene opens with a passage that
mimics the heikyoku style, or singing style of the blind lute players,

From time immemorial
this island’s fearful name
has been Kikai-ga-shima
-Devil Island-
a place where demons live.
It is indeed a hell on earth.
175

After this opening sequence, Chikamatsu describes Shunkan’s pathetic
appearance. He describes Shunkan as reverting to the social status of a beggar, whose
life is “dew-like” (tsuyu no mi), and whose hair stands up, bushy and all over the place
like “dry weeds” (sōsui ko kō no tsuku mo kami).
176
This description borrows directly

173
The western notion of “love” was indefinable until the Meji period when it was first introduced to Japan.
For a full study on the subject of ren’ai, or the western notion of love, see: Yokota Murakami, Don Juan
East/West:on the problematics of comparative literature, (New York: State University of New York Press,
1998).
174
Watanabe, “Shunkan zō no hensen,” 191.
175
“Heike nyōgo ga shima,” 483; Leiter, “Shunkan on Devil Island,” pp. 421
176
“Heike nyōgo ga shima,” 484.

64

from passages found in the Genpei jōsuiki,
177
and is closely related to the language of the
Kakuichi Heike.
178
Chikamatsu uses these descriptions to mimic the nō version: namely,
to open the drama with a gloomy and desolate atmosphere full of despair. From these
opening descriptions alone, one can conclude that Chikamatsu was probably working
from various Heike traditions, including the Edo period heikyōku traditions, the Genpei
jōsuiki, as well as the earlier known version of Shunkan.
179

As in the nō version, Chikamatsu, follows the gloomy opening with the arrival of
Naritsune and Yasuyori to pay Shunkan a visit, after their four to five day Kumano
“pilgrimages” on Kikai-ga-shima. Chikamatsu paints a family orientated description of
the three members that is stronger than the nō version and which is completely void in the
Heike variants. Shunkan, taking the role of the father, scolds Naritsune and Yasuyori for
not visiting him recently, while they both explain their absence. Here, to further brighten
the mood, Chikamatsu has Naritsune reveal to Shunkan that he has been recently engaged
to an ama named Chidori. Naritsune even asks Shunkan for permission to call upon
Chidori so that he can properly introduce his fiancée to Shunkan for his approval. It is
important for Naritsune to have Shunkan’s blessings, since Chidori, as a sea diver,
occupies a social status similar to that of the non-humans. Though the three exiles,
themselves, are now portrayed as belonging to this social class, especially Shunkan
because of his physical appearance, they are still from the aristocratic society of the
capital, and thus instilled with a strong sense of the social hierarchy. Yet with Shunkan’s
approval of Chidori’s marriage to Naritsune, Chikamatsu develops Shunkan’s character

177
Genpei jōsuiki, eds. Ichiko Teiji, (Miyai Shoten, 1991), 141.
178
Heike monogatari jō, 229.
179
Mukai Henō, “Chikamatsu ga egaita Shunkan ni suite,” Kokuritsu gekijo jōen shiryō shū 444, (June
2002), 58.

65

to appeal to an audience of the Edo period townsmen. At the same time, Naritsune’s
needing Shunkan’s approval re-enforces the idea that Chikamatsu is trying to create a
closer family bond between the three exiles. With Shunkan’s approval of Chidori,
Shunkan performs the marriage ceremony between the two, re-enforcing Shunkan as the
father and Chidori as his new daughter-in-law.
Though one may think that this love affair between Chidori and Naritsune is
unique, Chikamatsu was building upon a very brief reference that he took from the
Genpei jōsuiki
180
variant. However, Chikamatsu uses this love affair to highlight the
bond between Shunkan and his wife, Azumaya, that would later be used to transform
Shunkan into a tragic hero. The Kakuichi Heike also mentions Shunkan’s wife, but not
until Ariō arrives on the scene, after finding out that Shunkan had not been pardoned. It
is only then that the audience or reader learns that Shunkan’s wife has died of grief from
Shunkan’s being exiled. But in the Heike, Shunkan does not care about, nor even
mention, his wife during the ashizuri scene, where his only concern is about being left
behind on the island. Chikamatsu uses the love affair between Naritsune and Chidori to
parallel and remind Shunkan of his strong desire to be reunited with his wife,
Azumaya.
181
The Chidori motif, therefore, foreshadows Shunkan’s tragic loss of his wife,
who died not from grief, but by the order of Kiyomori himself.

180
Genpei jōsuiki, 102.
181
Mukai, “Chikamatsu ga egaita Shunkan nit suite,” 58.

66

Senō: the Wicked Villain

In contrast to the nō version, Chikamatsu’s wedding scene between Naritsune and
Chidori creates a more cheerful, happy atmosphere. From the opening passage noted
above, the evocation of a desolated, hell-like island, it is hard to believe that such an
auspicious celebration and union can arise. It is important to note that this union between
the young couple symbolizes the future that is yet to come, for this will be one of the
important features that distinguishes Shunkan as an Edo period townsmen hero.
Chikamatsu also uses this joyful occasion to set up a contrast with the following scene
describing the arrival of the vessel from the capital.
Much like his predecessors, Chikamatsu uses the same concepts and ideas that are
presented in the Heike variants, and later in the nō drama, when Naritsune and Yasuyori
are presented with their pardon and Shunkan’s name is nowhere to be found. However,
Chikamatsu introduces the new character, Senō Tarō Kaneyasu, the official messenger
from Kiyomori, who reads the pardon to the exiles. In the character of Senō, Chikamatsu
transforms a historical, well-respected warrior figure, who had no connection to Shunkan
or Shunkan’s story, into the wicked, spiteful character that appears in Chikamatsu’s
play.
182
There is no clear evidence why Chikamatsu decided to use the actual historical
Senō as the villain, but perhaps this is the result of Edo dramatic conventions, which
required a villain to enhance the drama. One can actually see the antagonist ridiculing
and belittling the already haggard and worn down exiles, which increases the audience’s
sympathy for them.

182
Mukai, “Chikamatsu ga egaita Shunkan nit suite,” 59.

67

Although Senō antagonizes Shunkan and pushes him further into a state of despair
and agony as he fears being left behind, Chikamatsu later discloses that Tanzaemon is in
fact the secret messenger of Shigemori with Shunkan’s pardon. As the joyous news is
revealed, all three exiles become ecstatic at the prospect of leaving the island to return to
the capital. We should also note how once again Chikamatsu appeals to his audience by
creating a repeated pattern whereby a depressing, gloomy scene is followed by a joyous
outcome. However, with Chidori now married to Naritsune, it is no longer a family of
three but a family of four. Senō, regardless of Tanzaemon’s pleas, refuses to allow
Chidori to board the vassal, saying that it was already bad enough that he must allow
Shunkan off the island, and even more so if he must now allow Chidori to accompany
Naritsune.
183
As Naritsune tells both Shunkan and Yasuyori that he will remain behind
with his wife, both Shunkan and Yasuyori reassure him that they will not leave without
him.

Naritsune:
My friends, Shunkan and Yasuyori, please board the [vassal].
Shunkan:
No, no! We have no intention of leaving this place without you.
Yasuyori:
As Shunkan has said, we are one and will return only as one.
Shunkan, Yasuyori, Naritsune:
We won’t go! We won’t go! We won’t go!
184

Again, Chikamatsu highlights the strong bond between the three exiles that was
never present in the Heike and the nō drama. In fact, in the Heike and nō drama,
Naritsune and Yasuyori try to comfort Shunkan by telling him that once they return to the

183
“Heike nyōgo ga shima,” 491.
184
“Heike nyōgo ga shima,” 491; Leiter, “Shunkan on Devil Island,” 431-432.

68

capital, they will ask Kiyomori to pardon him.
185
Chikamatsu also uses this scene to
reveal the death of Shunkan’s wife, Azumaya.
Senō, disgusted with the display of camaraderie among the exiles, reveals to
Shunkan that Kiyomori had Azumaya executed for rejecting his advances towards her.
Furthermore, Senō reveals to Shunkan that once he is taken back, he will also be
beheaded like a common criminal. Unlike the Heike variants, therefore, where Azumaya
died due to the grief of her husband being exiled, Chikamatsu gives the story a different
twist by having Azumaya beheaded. He makes Kiyomori, represented through Senō, the
chief villain of the play and enemy of Shunkan. Though this sort of scenario where
Kiyomori pursues the wives of his enemies is present in the Heike, Chikamatsu utilizes
this motif in order to re-create the image of Shunkan. Even though the plot is different
from the Heike variants and the nō text, the emphasis in Chikamatsu is still on the
sympathetic quality of Shunkan’s character. However, it is no longer Shunkan’s grief
and agony at being left behind on Kikai-ga-shima that is central to the play’s denouement,
but his grief over the fact that he will no longer be reunited with his wife. In fact,
Chikamatsu goes one step further: he has Chidori replace Shunkan as the grief-ridden
person who will be left behind on Kikai-ga-shima to watch her comrades sail away.

Chidori as the presenter of Ashizuri

When Senō refused to allow Chidori to board the vassal and places the three
exiles under arrest, forcing them aboard, Chidori is left alone on the shore. Here,

185
This promise that Naritsune and Yasuyori make to Shunkan is never kept. Both Naritsune and
Yasuyori, in fear of enraging Kiyomori, never places a plea for the pardon of Shunkan.

69

Chikamatsu dramatizes her despair, the same felt by Shunkan in the Heike variants and
nō version of Shunkan. Chidori exclaims in her state of agony that “There are no devils
on Kikai-ga-shima, the devils are all in the capital!”
186
Returning to the previous section
on the social status of demons within the medieval society, Chidori, an outsider from the
viewpoint of the center, is clearly making a commentary about Kiyomori. The center is
now no longer the capital where Kiyomori and his corrupt bureaucrats reside, but Kikai-
ga-shima. For Chidori, rather than living in a corrupt, inhumane society, she is rather
happy living her simple life on the island. Again, Chikamatsu paints Kiyomori as the
villain, commenting about the system of the political government and society.
Chikamatsu, himself, born to the elite samurai class, chose to be part of the outcasts in
society when he became a fictional drama writer for both the puppet theatre and the
Kabuki theatre (both theatrical arts that were associated with the outcasts in the Edo
society). Perhaps Chikamatsu, due to his own hardships and lack of social status, wanted
to draw upon the sympathy of his audience, members of the merchant class,
187
who also
felt a disdain towards the political government at that time.
Chidori laments that she does not want to return to the capital to live a splendid
life as a nobleman’s wife, and that she won’t be allowed to sleep with Naritsune at least
one night, as man and wife. Chidori yells, “Please, I want to board! Let me board!”
188
In
her state of agony and despair, she screams and cries toward the boat, and it is here, in
Chidori’s present emotional state, that Chikamatsu has her perform the ashizuri. There is

186
“Heike nyōgo ga shima,” 492; Leiter, “Shunkan on Devil Island,” 433.
187
During the Edo period, the Tokugawa Government was based on Neo-Confucianism’s four basic social
ranks in society: 1) samurai, 2) farmers, 3) artisans, 4) merchants. Merchants were ranked at the lowest end
of the social ladder due to the fact that they did not produce anything but profits off of others’ hard labor.
Following the merchant class were the nonhumans who were considered to be defiled due to the manner of
their jobs. Kabuki actors were also considered to part of this nonhuman class.
188
“Heike nyōgo ga shima,” 492.

70

a clear shift away from Shunkan performing the ashizuri in the Heike variants to Chidori
now taking this role. By having Chidori perform the ashizuri at this moment, Chikamatsu
confirms the hypothesis that ashizuri expresses a heightened state of emotional despair
and agony. Chidori strengthens this conclusion with her commitment to commit suicide
rather than be left behind on Kikai-ga-shima. It is Shunkan, watching all of this, who
stops her from acting so irrationally. In this context, it is the body, in its extreme physical
and emotional agony, that subconsciously compels the subject to perform the action of
the ashizuri. Moreover, we can see how Chikamatsu inherits the medieval tradition of
ashizuri, which came to be associated with abandonment by the seashore.
189

Transformation of Shunkan into an Edo Period Townsmen Hero

When Shunkan sees Chidori’s pleas to board the boat fail, and her determination
to commit suicide, he returns to the shore to stop her from committing such a rash
decision and makes his own plea on her behalf. Since “my beloved is gone, what joy can
I find in Kyoto where I would have to view the moon and flowers with only myself for
company? Rather than face grief again in the capital, I will remain here on the island and
[Chidori] will board in my place…leave Shunkan, who is all alone in the world, here on
this island where I will devote myself to Buddha.”
190
Unlike the Heike or the nō version,
Chikamatsu transforms Shunkan into a hero that is idolized by the Edo period townsmen
by making him decide his own fate. Shunkan, already established as father figure to both
Naritsune and Chidori, now feels he has a duty to his new daughter-in-law to ensure her

189
Itoi, “Ashizuri goshi kō,” 55.
190
“Heike nyōgo ga shima,” 493; Leiter, “Shunkan on Devil Island,” 434-435.

71

future happiness.
191
Shunkan, no longer desirous of returning to the capital since his wife
was murdered, would rather give the chance of happiness to the young couple, who have
a future to look forward to.
After such a tearful plea with Chidori, Shunkan then proceeds to beg Senō to
allow Chidori to take his place, which Senō refuses. As a result, Shunkan draws one of
Senō’s swords
192
attacking him with it and wounding him severely. A battle between the
two ensues, in which Tanzaemon orders the remaining envoy not to interfere between the
business of the two men. Besides being ridiculed and denied his request, Shunkan now
sees Senō, a messenger of Kiyomori, as his mortal enemy.
193
Shunkan now feels that it is
Senō whom he must kill to avenge the wrongful death of his wife. Tanzaemon warns
Shunkan that by killing Senō it will void his pardon, and if he is to be left behind on the
island, there will be trouble at the checkpoint when there are only two returning exiles.
To this, Shunkan responds:

‘I understand, I understand. But if this girl boards with Yasuyori and Naritsune,
there will be no discrepancy in the number of passengers and you can’t possibly
have any trouble at the checkpoint. As for receiving the clemency of Lords
Shigemori and Notto for my former offense, I will negate it by killing this envoy
[Senō] and thus become guilty of a new offense. I will once again become an
exile on Kikai-ga-shima.”
194

In this manner, Shunkan, now guilty of murdering an official envoy, determines
his own fate and self-exiles himself back to Kikai-ga-shima. Shunkan’s self sacrifice for

191
Mukai, “Chikamatsu ga egaita Shunkan ni tsuite,” 60
192
Since it is not explicitly written which of the two swords, the long sword or the short, that Shunkan
drew, in the Kabuki presentation, there is an on going debate among the actors to which one should be
drawn. Some claim that Shunkan is too weak to wield the long sword, while others claim that it is easier
for him draw and maneuver.
193
Mukai, “Chikamatsu ga egaita Shunkan nit suite,” 59.
194
“Heike nyōgo ga shima,” 494-495; Leiter, “Shunkan on Devil Island,” 437-438.

72

the sake of Naritsune and Chidori transforms him into a figure idolized by the Edo period
townsmen. Perhaps to the Edo townsmen, this was their definition of what a hero should
be. Yet is clear that Shunkan chooses his fate, namely to remain on Kikai-ga-shima by
himself. This adds to the intensity of the farewell departure closing in Chikamatsu’s text.
As in the Heike and the nō version of Shunkan, Chikamatsu also concludes the
Kikai-ga-shima sequence with the tearful departing of the boat and Shunkan alone
looking toward the ocean horizon. Yet the fundamental difference is the presentation of
the emotional state of Shunkan. In the Heike variants and the nō version, it is clear that
Shunkan is full of agony and despair over being left behind alone on Kikai-ga-shima.
This emotional state is what leads him to do the ashizuri on the shore. Yet, here in
Chikamatsu’s version, Shunkan is overjoyed by the fact that he was able to sacrifice
himself for the sake of the newly wedded couple’s future happiness. Chikamatsu, once
again, skillfully weaves a pattern of anguish, happiness, and anguish to conclude with a
happy ending for the young couple. There is no dialogue between Shunkan and the
departing Naritsune or Yasuyori to beg on his behalf for a pardon, knowing that by
killing Senō it is already impossible, but rather a hopeful exchange that they will be
reunited in the next life. However, this happiness is short lived, for it is then that
Shunkan finally realizes that his self-sacrifice, meant for a greater cause, now means that
he is left all alone with no company. Upon this realization, Chikamatsu has Shunkan
“break down and cry,” (fushi marobi). Again, by using “fushi marobi,” we can conclude
that these words came to represent or stand for the action of ashizuri. Thus, upon
Shunkan’s realization that he is now all alone, abandoned by his family, Chikamatsu has
him perform the ashizuri.

73

CHAPTER EIGHT
CONCLUSION

Through the exploration of the genesis of the character portrayal of Shunkan in
the Heike variants, the nō play Shunkan, and Chikamatsu’s Heike and the Island of
Women, I have looked at how the Shunkan cycle evolved in different genres. Shunkan’s
portrayal in the Heike variants is one that is based on the influences of both political and
religious institutions, where the audience is clearly informed of Shunkan’s treason and
ungrateful attitude toward Kiyomori, and his irreligious actions against Kumano faith.
Several hundreds years after the end of the Genpei War, as the Heike variants continued
to evolve over the course of the 13
th
and 14
th
centuries, Shunkan’s story is further
immortalized into the nō repertory as a man who experiences great agony and despair.
By the Edo period, Shunkan’s story is once again re-dramatized within Chikamatsu’s
puppet theatre. Here, Shunkan is transformed from a character of agony and despair into
a hero idolized by the Edo period townsmen.
In addition to this evolution reflecting different conventions and genres, another
aim of this thesis has been to explore the possible meanings behind the ashizuri that
Shunkan performs in the Heike variants. Past scholars have argued that due to the
manner in which Shunkan died, his spirit was transformed into an anguished spirit that
plagued and helped lead to the downfall of the Heike, suggesting that the Heike
performed the function of placation. However, by examining the usage of the term
“ashizuri,” and those terms that are thought to be associated with “ashizuri,” we have
seen that ashizuri was performed to express an extreme emotional state of grieving and

74

agony. Though the presentation of the ashizuri action changed throughout the centuries, I
believe it is this basic notion of an extreme emotional state of grieving and agony that is
carried into the Heike tradition, and later incorporated and modified into nō and
Chikamatsu’s dramas.
For future research, I hope to continue pursuing the evolution of Shunkan’s
character portrayal into the Taisho period, where writers like Kikuchi Kan, Akutagawa
Ryūnosuke and Kurata Hyakuzō once again re-create the Shunkan story for a modern
readership in the early twentieth century. Another interesting topic that has not been
covered in this paper concerns the motif of “child abandonment” (sutego) in premodern
Japanese literature. As noted in this paper, by the Edo period the portrayal of Shunkan as
an abandoned child becomes a standard motif in woodblock prints and portraits that
accompany the Heike texts.

75

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82

APPENDIX A
“THE MATTER OF THE FOOT-DRAGGING DIETY”
195

The Tanba Lesser Capitan boarded his boat at the port of Sen’ō in a place called
Yuki in the Bichū Province, and rowed out into the distant waves. [The boat] circled
about landing at Natsuji in Iyo Province. Seeing the mountains towering up in the
distant, the Lesser Capitan asked, “What is that?” To which someone responded, “That is
the Cape of Ashizuri at the tip of the Tosa Peninsula.”
[Upon hearing the response], the Lesser Capitan remembered a long time ago
there was a monk named Riichi who was still unable to achieve the state of
enlightenment. Riichi swore an oath to pray at Mount Futaraku and undertook ritual
austerities for a thousand days.
He had a disciple named Riken. Accompanied by this one disciple, Riichi boarded
the boat and set forth. However, the headwinds blew furiously forcing their boat back to
the shore. Riichi, realizing that his [Buddhist] austerities were not yet complete, once
again performed one hundred prayers for another one hundred days. After the
completion of the one-hundredth day, the Holy Man [Riichi] boarded the boat alone
telling Riken, “I cannot achieve enlightenment by having you come with me.” The boat
was a hollowed out log.
Unfurling a white hempen sail, he yielded to the favorable winds that speed the
boat along far off into the distance, separating [the Holy Man and Riken] by the waves of
the sea. Abandoned by the Holy Man, his disciple Riken was overcome with grief. He

195

Asahara Yoshiko and Nanami Hiroaki eds., Nagatobon Heike monogatari no sōgō kenkyū (jō) 1,
(Benseisha, 1998-1999), 281-283.

83

thought: “Can I ever escape from this world of suffering or break the cycle of the six
paths?” [As Riken asked himself this,] the boat already disappeared from sight, making
Riken long bitterly for the Holy Man. Overcome with extreme distress and sadness, he
collapsed to the ground, and while rubbing his feet, he wailed out loud in grief
(taorefushi, ashisuri wo shite, omekikanashimu). He rubbed his feet on the earth,
[digging] an emerging hole into the ground that engulfed his entire body. Because of his
longing for the Holy Man and his extreme pain of mind, Riken’s soul departed and
indeed accompanied the Holy Man to worship on Mount Futaraku, leaving [only] his
physical body [behind] in this world. The original ground (honji) was Kannon; and the
phenomenal Buddha (suijaku), the Foot-dragging Deity (Ashizuri no myōjin).

84

APPENDIX B
AUTHOR’S REDENTION OF SHUNKAN’S ASHIZURI ILLUSTRATION

He
Source: Heike MonogataHeike Monogatari Kanbun 12 ban
Figure 4: Shunkan’s Ashizuri

85

Source: Kagen eki
Figure 5: Temper Tantrum

86

Source: Heike Monogatari Kanbun 5 ban
Figure 6: Departure

Abstract (if available)

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