Bakemono

Mogi-san recently gave me some hand-me-down dishes, and one of the bowls has quickly become my favorite thing in the entire house. It's light blue and it has a picture of an eyeball with arms and legs running away from a pair of chopsticks. I don't know why, but from the moment I saw that thing it tickled my fancy and I laugh every time I look at it. But when I first saw it I had no idea what it was supposed to be.

A few internet searches later I discovered that my favorite eyeball was a character from an anime called "Gegege no Kitaro." It started in the '50's, but has been so incredibly popular that it is re-made every 10 years or so. It's the story of a young demon/ghost boy named Kitaro who hunts classic Japanese monsters, aided by his dead father--who possesses an eyeball, rides around in Kitaro's head, and leaves the socket at will to run around. The sheer crazy charm of it all got me thinking about Japanese monsters, so I did a little research into them too. And now I can't stop. So indulge me for a bit.

 So first off, the Japanese lump all their monsters together under the term "bakemono", which literally translates to "things that change" and, in practical terms, means "things that you should never mess with." Whereas Western fairytales/ghost stories are pretty specific about what sort of monster you're up against--complete with identifying characteristics and weaknesses unique to each class--the Japanese legends don't seem to put much stock in specifications. A bakemono can be a ghost, a "bad spirit" (a non-Christian equivalent of a demon, I suppose), an ogre, a nature spirit, a shapeshifter, a witch, or even (my personal favorite) a household item that has gained sentience on its 100th birthday. Oh yes. We're talking umbrellas and sandals that suddenly snap to life, endowed with menacing eyes and teeth and a wicked score to settle for all those years spent shrouded in dust in the garage. To this day, some people still hold ceremonies with prayers and offerings to appease their  mistreated belongings.

Among the bakemono there are also demons who can stretch their necks to impossible lengths or even detach their own heads...for some reason. They're still scary because they're also cannibals, but I fail to see how the neck thing helps them achieve that aim. Seems like it would just make them more vulnerable; making your jugular an easy target has never seemed like a good plan to me. There's also a classic Japanese response to anorexia: if a woman starves herself, she develops a giant mouth on the back of her head and her hair starts dragging everything in reach towards the gaping maw in an effort to end the relentless hunger. And, another one of my favorites, the kappa: a turtle with a hole in his head that he must keep filled with water at all times or die. They are meant to be mischevious and deadly, of course--luring people into the water and drowning them--but I can't help but find them sort of adorable, especially in plush form: 

Aww! I'd go swimming with you ANY day!

Another blatant difference I've noticed between Western tales and Japanese ones is that Western stories always have some moral or lesson, however horrible it might be. Don't accept anything from crones. Don't eat giant confectionery domiciles. That sort of thing.  Japanese stories, on the other hand, have no rhyme or reason that I can determine. Quick! You find a baby alone in the woods, crying. What do you do?

a) Poke it with a stick to see if it stops crying.

b) Take it into town with you.

c) Leave that poor sucker in the cold and beat it; you've got more important things to do than value human life.

Let's hope you picked c, because otherwise you were just crushed to death by a crazy shape-shifting hag. Care to try again? Okay, you're a blind musician who's been playing in a fancy court for a while now. Everyone praises your singing and seems excited to see you each night. Then you find out that these are not actually people; they're spirits and you've been playing in a graveyard this whole time. What do you do?

a) Keep playing for them. For dead guys, they seem pretty cool.

b) Politely decline their next invitation and leave some nice offerings for them instead.

c) Trust some Buddhist priests who paint prayers all over your body except your ears and then tell you not to speak for 24 hours.

Who knows what would have happened with a or b, but the guy in the story chose c and ended up having his ears ripped off because they were left vulnerable. Still, the priest who was responsible for that oversight explained the musician should feel lucky; if he had kept making those ghosts happy, they would have rewarded him by tearing him to shreds.

I guess when I read our stories I generally get the message, "Do right and you'll get out of this." When I read Japanese stories, all I hear is, "Don't touch anything, don't trust anyone, and for goodness' sake don't open your mouth. If you're lucky, you might make it long enough to die in the next famine."

Oh, and as a final note: if you're a guy I'd think twice before getting married in Japan. Apparently there's a 90% chance you'll wind up wed to a snow spirit, raccoon, or fox. Ladies don't face those odds in the legends, but they do have to put up with husbands who refuse to let them speak and commit ritualistic suicide at the drop of a hat. You win some, you lose some I guess.