Pathway to Japanese Literature

Author: Orikuchi Shinobu

The Evolution of Incantations

1. The God's Bride

By the time national consciousness had emerged, within Japanese shrine maiden practices, Shinto priests were generally close relatives of high-ranking shrine maidens.
However, this remains within the realm of our conjecture; moreover, even in eras more recent than those recorded in history, there were still numerous shrine maidens recognized as sovereigns across villages and provinces.

Empress Jingū is one such case.
The prevalence of many empresses in ancient times was likely due to the enduring influence of this reason.
Among those who have been considered male sovereigns, might there not have been women who actually lived as shrine maidens?
Regarding this point, a detailed discussion would invite considerable reservation.
Even Himiko from the Wei Chronicles—who tends to be considered alongside Empress Jingū—maintained her position as a ruler in northern Kyushu through her shamanic abilities as a shrine maiden.

High-ranking shrine maidens in the villages adhered to celibacy as a principle.
This was because they were promoted as brides of the gods.
During divine festivals, the fundamental concept behind men and women of the crowd entering ecstatic states and falling into ritual promiscuity lay in the belief that deities manifested themselves through each individual man.

The song-gatherings transformed into stomping dances among Nara-period urbanites were in fact distinct phenomena; however, the established theory holds that beyond the utagaki and kagakai assemblies in the eastern provinces—whose legacy customs appear to have transmitted to later eras—Sumiyoshi’s so-called “small gatherings” also belonged to this category.

Therefore, it appears manifest deity priests customarily took lower-ranking shrine maidens—brides of the gods—to their beds. This practice endured even into the Heian period at provincial shrines preserving ancient traditions.

The provincial chieftains of Izumo and Munakata—who still nominally retained their long-prohibited gubernatorial titles though these now merely attested to their priestly lineages divorced from political power—had forbidden transgressions against court attendant maidens (*Ruiju Sandai Kyaku* legal code), a prohibition illuminating pre-Nara village priests' lifestyles. Though commonly perceived solely as handlers of imperial meals, these attendant maidens were in truth lower-ranking shrine maidens serving both deities and manifest gods.

It can be inferred that the conscription of daughters from provincial district magistrates into serving as court attendant maidens—who would return to their home regions after completing palace service—had the purpose of making girls who had served gods worshipped by village chieftains (predecessors to district magistrates) instead serve Yamato deities, thereby transmitting the substance of religious syncretism and ritual unification to their former territorial districts.
For manifest deities to lead and sleep with court attendant maidens was neither an act performed as deities nor as humans.
If we consider that Japan’s human sacrifice legends contained several kernels of truth, we can conceive of women being presented to the gods from this perspective—not as those to be devoured.

For this reason, examples of court attendant maidens becoming consorts or wives were surprisingly scarce in transmitted records.
The account from Emperor Ingyō’s chronicles regarding a Korean man suspected of composing the poem “Une me haya” (“Ah! Court maiden”) and “Mimi haya” (“Ah! Ears”) reminiscing about Three Hills—thereby violating a court attendant maiden (*Nihon Shoki*)—should likely be interpreted as an accusation of stealing the god’s bride.
This matter demonstrates both the actual existence of Japan’s right of first night and its underlying rationale.
The Sandai Kyaku edicts directed toward Izumo and Munakata were not merely preserving antiquated customs within the imperial court; for commoners, they served both as rational policies seeking to disentangle gods from manifest deities and as cultural institutions.

When deities arriving from the vast skies or beyond the seas came to be conceptualized above local land spirits, a hierarchy became established even among the gods themselves.
The gods who arrived from afar often became the focal point of faith in the villages.
The gods to whom brides—also called “tsueshiro”—were presented appeared to have been numerous on this side.
Even though the gods who arrived at designated times seldom made themselves visible, such shrine maidens were appointed.
In regular divine festivals, even for those who came dressed as gods, the duties performed as brides of the gods remained unchanged.
This is thought to have been a practice conducted through both village festivals and household festivals.

2. Divine Visitor

The honored guests invited to the newly constructed room’s purification ritual were treated with exceptional reverence and attentiveness.

In the new room, Fumishizuko clinked the ritual bells, yet...
Like a jewel / You who shine so bright— / Lodge within these inner chambers (Man'yōshū Book 11, Sedōka).

This likely indicates there was an honored guest standing beyond the screens during the dancer’s performance.
Can we not discern the semblance of gods who visited every household?

In the new room’s ceremonial clearing of wall grasses, pray do not proceed.
Like grasses / The maidens thronging— / Before you... (Man'yōshū Book 11, Sedōka)

This was no mere diversion for banquet amusement.
One may surmise this custom arose during the incipient unraveling of an ancient tradition wherein dance priestesses were ritually dedicated to the principal guests of chamber-consecration ceremonies.

There exists a tradition (recorded in *Nihon Shoki*) that when Emperor Ingyō attended the Empress’s room-blessing ritual, he compelled his reluctant elder sister—who had been hesitating to present her—to offer up Sotoorihime, his younger sister who served as a dancer.
The tradition that even the deeply jealous Empress could not refuse this derives from entrenched folk beliefs.

When Kume no Kobutate was invited to Shukumi Hosomi’s new room, Prince Ōke’s hesitation to perform as a dancer should likewise be interpreted through this lens.
The incident where the room-blessing ritual’s honored guest—revered as a deity—abruptly withdrew from their seat upon hearing Prince Ōke’s song lyrics must be examined with this underlying significance in mind.

The term *marebito* (divine visitor) in fact carried profound significance.
The honored guests who came to the room-blessing ritual were considered substitutes for the rarely visiting gods.
It was likely that after the honored guest recited an incantation, they would be welcomed and take their seat at the banquet.
Even today, in Okinawa's countryside, construction is believed to be built by people during the day and created by gods at night.
On the day of the ridgepole raising, the god descends into the house, rings a ritual bell, and vigorously strikes pillars and foundation stones.
It is said that this sound reaches the ears of the family members prostrating outside the mansion.
Of course, this was the shrine maidens’ doing.

In the Yaeyama Islands, kami-people and ritual officiants attending village festivals or household ceremonies wrapped their faces and other parts with banana or palm leaves, leaving only their eyes exposed. Using divine voices and gestures, they danced in accordance with the gods' epic narratives.
This was a ritual conducted at the village ceremonial grounds.
Standing at house entrances, they would recite incantations and perform blessings for subsequent events.
From the deepest earth's depths—giant gods presiding over annual coming-of-age rites; from the Pure Land beyond the sea—grain gods arriving to bless agriculture; groups claiming to be ancestral spirits who descended upon Obon households with several to over a dozen retainers to impart teachings through song and dance—all these deities descending at appointed times bore witness to ancient vestiges of interaction between incantations, theater, and divinely timed visitations.

In half of Okinawa’s main island, where the summer Sea God Festival was still conducted, the gods crossed over because they did not go to the Pure Land beyond the sea.
The mountain gods, who were the country’s gods, went out to welcome them.
At the village ceremonial grounds, it had been the annual custom to sing fragments of ancient epics while performing scenes of sea fishing and mountain hunting.

The divine festivals of the Okinawan islands, which were believed to preserve vestiges of Man'yōshū people’s lives up to a certain point, were precisely this.
There were numerous examples in mainland Japan where humans gradually forgot the divine acts—such as imparting blessings for annual harvests and guidance through seasonal transitions—and came to perform these rituals themselves.

The seasonal envoys—who had vanished before the Meiji era—would don woven hats adorned with fern leaves over cloth-wrapped faces, clatter four-piece bamboo clappers, and dance at household gates during year-end celebrations.
"The phrase 'It is the season' was likely the divine voice imparting both the passage of time and agricultural advisories."
In both Manzai and Monoyoshi congratulatory rites, one can discern age-old traditions long repeated—whether as gods or as divine-human intermediaries.

“Noble one beneath the sacred tree—(abbreviated from ‘How do you regard this year?’)—”
From warrior household congratulatory rites—which showed traces of evolving dialogues with tutelary deities like “Thus the matter (omitting ‘ni sōrō yo’). Most auspicious” (*Local Studies*)—to folk practices still performed today: “Will it bear? Will it not?”
“If it doesn’t bear fruit, I’ll cut it down!”
“It will bear.”
“It will bear,” and when observing rituals like those performed on New Year’s Eve and Setsubun nights where people went around threatening fruit trees, this appeared less as incantation and more as direct negotiation between humans and spirits.
Depending on one’s perspective, it could also appear as though gods were negotiating with spirits.
However, this was a mistaken assumption.
This could be understood through the example of Manzai and Saizō.

Saizō who accompanies Manzai likely originated from "Sai no Otoko" (Man of Talent). It also seems to have been pronounced *seinō*, and there are instances where it is written as 青農 (Blue Farmer). However, in this case, it appears to concern a puppet. The Man of Talent could also be a human. In the Divine Kagura of the Naishidokoro, following the "Dance of the Human Leader," after a round of sake, there was the "Performance of the Man of Talent" (*Eke Shidai*). This was a form of *sarugaku*, consisting of comical mimicry. However, there were not infrequently shrines that made puppet *Seinō* the center of their festivals. Especially in Hachiman-lineage shrines, puppets were often employed. As for the Kagura songs transmitted today, they appear to belong to the Iwashimizu lineage. In this school of Kagura, it can be surmised that the Man of Talent was simultaneously the Blue Farmer, who had puppets perform *sarugaku*.

The Man of Talent likely began by impersonating and representing deities, but as the objects of faith became more elevated, they were stripped of their divine attributes and cast aside.
Thus, they likely came to serve as intermediaries who translated divine oracles into human speech and transposed them into human actions.
From the act of materializing divine hints, sarugaku-style comedic mimicry came to be staged, resulting in the emergence of opposing figures—with gods acting while the Man of Talent assumed the waki role—in such a manner.
Even the waki kyōgen of Noh—the precursor to kyōgen—became something utterly meaningless that treated its audience as simpletons, reduced to nothing more than an antiquated relic; yet in former times, it was not primarily narrative but rather comedic—indeed, it must have exemplified the true essence of Noh’s ancient core, “Sarugaku,” from which present-day kyōgen diverged.
The narratives of ritual Noh gradually leaned toward dramatic “Shura plays” and similar themes in response to samurai demands.

While their content gradually refined itself, their forms remained unchanged from before—resulting in new expressions being successively layered atop existing foundations.
This is why comedic elements like kyōgen and wit came to be positioned beneath the supporting roles.

In *Niwaka* (improvised farces), *Chaban* (comical farces), and *Daikagura* (grand kagura performances) as well, such comedic roles existed, repeating parrot-like antics.
The sedōka form I previously mentioned serves as this contrasting role in structure, but it is thought that in even earlier times, their content too involved parrot-like repetition.
Repeating interrogative phrases and answering with efforts amounting to replacing the question mark at a phrase’s end with an exclamation point—this was the customary form of divine oracles.

Three: Hokai

The recitation of Congratulatory Ritual Speeches was called *hoku*.
The term *homu* shared the same etymological root and belonged to this same category of usage examples.
While *homu* today carries the simple sense of praise, it originally developed through describing preemptively blessed ideal states before differentiating into its celebratory meaning.
The term *tatafu*, falling within this same lexical group, appears to have emerged considerably later.
It signified a prayer’s intent to anticipate a state of perfect fullness verging on overflow.
This usage pattern became fixed only after the adjective *tatahashi* (“perfect”) came into being.
It does not seem that *sanhashi* (“praiseworthy”) arose simply because one felt compelled to offer praise.

Having been reapplied and formed into compound words—such as *kotohogu* (verbal hoku recitations)—the term *hoku* retained more of its primordial essence than *homu*. This was not merely ritual prognostication. “Through our skin the *ho* omen faintly emerges…” The “*ho*” documented in works like the *Jingūki* later became confined to love poetry usage, thus becoming “visible on the surface”—as in “revealed in one’s countenance.” Yet it appears to denote divine intent’s elusive shadows manifesting symbolically, akin to divination signs (*urakata*). When contrasted with *ura* (末), *ho* (秀) reveals its core conceptual framework. Ritual phrases like “within ochre’s *ho*” position this *ho*—marked by sacred pigments—as a cipher for celestial will. The chanting accompanying such *ho* was likely termed *hoku*, though I posit an antecedent phase where deities themselves manifested *ho* as portents. Within historical records, *hoku* inherently contained elements of ritual divination (*ukehi*) and augury (*uranai*).

Suppose that an attention-grabbing event occurred.
The ancients regarded this as the gods' *ho* and sought to discern its implication.
At Mamuta Embankment (or Hime Island), an incident occurred where a wild goose laid an egg, and Takenouchi no Sukune recited—as recorded in the *Kojiki* and *Nihon Shoki*—the verse "O divine child, to fully govern: / The wild goose has borne offspring," treating it as a fragmentary verse of a *hogi* song.
Taking the wild goose of the Eternal Land's egg-laying as the "*ho*" of the Emperor's immortal longevity, they performed the Congratulatory Ritual Speech.
It is thought that Congratulatory Ritual Speech (*kotohogi*) became the name for oral texts celebrating life through verbal incantation, from which the term Ritual Prayer (*norito*) emerged.
The original meaning had undergone precisely the transformation described in Part One.
The fact that the object of *hoku* was life appears to be factual.

Kushi no Kami dwelling in Tokoyo, Iwatatsu Sukunabikona no Mikoto’s divine *hoki*: *hoki kuru hoshi*, abundant *hoki*, *hoki moto hoshi*—the sacred sake that has been ritually offered! (*Kojiki*)

This song of *sake hokai* demonstrates how it combined divination of life with celebratory rites. To divine the fate of Prince Homudawake, who was ascending from Tsuruga, sake had been brewed and set aside in anticipation. There were instances where success or failure was determined using overnight sake and rice porridge divination. Here too, through the success or failure of the sake’s fermentation, the traveler’s health was ritually ascertained. And when they returned, they would drink that sake and express their gratitude.

The term "sake hokai" did not refer to mere sake serving.
It referred to the initial Congratulatory Ritual Speech performed when brewing sake.
At first glance, this might have appeared to be a celebratory rite for sake production or a prayer for its success, but that interpretation missed its mark.
"In the stalwart man’s Congratulatory Ritual Speech over rich sake, I have placed my reliance."

The Ōjin-ki represented a form of temporal ellipsis within the Reciter of Congratulatory Ritual Speeches.
This constituted the institutionalization of *machi-zake* (awaiting sake), where practitioners utilized the commencement of sake brewing to conduct divination through Congratulatory Ritual Speeches (*kotohogi*) for longevity.
As this divinatory aspect gradually became neglected, prayers for successful fermentation emerged as one manifestation of Congratulatory Ritual Speech.
This was why the term *sake hokai* came to approximate the meaning of a sake banquet.
Such transformations occurred across all dimensions of Congratulatory Ritual Speeches.
However, since sake fundamentally originated from ritual practices, one cannot disregard its divinatory purpose at the very inception.

When examining Room Congratulatory Ritual Speeches (*murohogi*), this causal relationship became intertwined. The Congratulatory Ritual Speech from Prince Ōke’s Room Hogi likely consisted of phrases commonly used in society at large. By affixing invocations to each architectural component, they celebrated the household head’s longevity. After formulaic declarations like “The pillar signifies steadfastness of spirit, the beam prosperity of spirit, the eaves orderliness of spirit, reed screens serenity of spirit, arrowroot roots fortification of life, and thatching buds an excess of wealth,” there followed a hymn-like passage chronicling the origins of the sake being used—a variation of *sake hokai*. This transitioned into the ritual injunction: “Gently in your palms, deign to clap.” The text concluded with the chant-like phrase “Our Long-Lived Ones (*Jōrei*)” from the *Kenkō-ki*. Here too, the intrinsic connection between Room Congratulatory Ritual Speech and life-prolonging rites became evident.

Through new construction at times when life stood poised for renewal, they sought to fix the household head's fate. Here existed life and its material counterpart set in opposition, yet no trace of divinatory intent could be discerned. What remained were solely incantations born of metaphor.

Even when dealing with existing dwellings, it appears ritualists sometimes deemed Congratulatory Ritual Speech (*kotohogi*) capable of effecting transformations equivalent to constructing fresh chambers. As erecting new Niiname-sha halls and ritual spaces annually proved impractical, there arose Grand Shrine prayers amalgamating purification rites with Room Congratulatory Ritual Speeches (*murohogi*). At each year's Niiname, Shinkonjiki, and Daijōsai festivals preceding formal ceremonies, Imibe priests would traverse the palace halls frequented by His Majesty, suspending *mihogi* jewels at four corners while intoning *norito* prayers throughout their procession. This *mihogi* practice entailed preparing blessings for fateful portents the gods might reveal—the jewels here serving not as divine seals but ritual implements. The *Izumo Kuni-no-Miyatsuko Kamuyogoto* resounds with such metaphorical invocations: "May white jewels illuminate Your Divine White Hair's splendor / May red jewels kindle Your Vitality's blaze / May blue jewels fortify Life's Foundation entwined—/ O Radiant Deity reigning o'er Ōyashima's realm..."

IV. Congratulatory Ritual Speech

The Congratulatory Ritual Speech (*kotohogi*) came to be fully incorporated into the terminology of age-related expressions likely because court ceremonies increasingly tended to celebrate the Emperor’s longevity on every occasion.

It cannot be said that folk incantations were solely aimed at praying for the household head's health and happiness. There must have been many incantations simply intended to effect agricultural yields, construction projects, labor outcomes, and similar practical matters.

At each year's commencement, during provincial officials' New Year's audience, the practice of chief retainers acting as representatives to present Congratulatory Ritual Speeches could be observed persisting through the Nara period. Though labeled "New Year's Greetings" in writing, these remained fundamentally Congratulatory Ritual Speeches. Ōtomo no Yakamochi's verse—"How thickly falls today's snow! A Congratulatory Ritual Speech"—from Man'yōshū Volume 20 articulates through this speech's efficacy a prayer that the Emperor might enjoy such longevity as to eternally receive these ritual performances. Another example—"May you amass a thousand years and achieve perfection!" from Kokinshū Volume 20—reflects not merely festive New Year sentiments but embodies the profound expectations of those who, through these speeches, affirmed faith in the sovereign's enduring vitality while celebrating his reign.

In antiquity, delegates from each clan and military division would present their hereditary Congratulatory Ritual Speeches—a custom likely mirroring eulogistic practices. Their phraseology probably resembled texts like the Nakatomi Heavenly Deity Congratulatory Ritual Speeches and Kamuyogoto. I maintain it improbable that they confined themselves to simplistic expressions about life extension.

The oldest incantations—under the belief that they were transmitted unchanged as divine oracles—served as divine judgments, binding promises, and coercive demands.
The power of divine incantations was carefully and secretly transmitted as something that would never perish.
"That which is called the 'Heavenly Decrees and Solemn Pronouncements' is precisely this."
In part of the text, those containing these divinely granted ancient incantations are found within the Imibe clan’s ritual prayers, the Ise Shrine’s ritual prayers, and the Nakatomi clan’s Heavenly Deity Congratulatory Ritual Speeches.

What particularly evokes its ancient form is the Chinka-sai (Fire-Calming Festival) ritual prayer.

When they reverently enshrined the heavenly descent, using the Heavenly Decrees and Solemn Pronouncements that had been ritually established through speech, they proclaimed:

[prefaced this with]

"...", the deity instructed.

By this means, when they completed the ritual response with reverence—so that hastiness of divine will might not afflict the imperial court of the August Grandchild—...they declared their intent to fulfill the response using the words of Heavenly Decrees and Solemn Pronouncements.

[concludes with]

The portion contained within constitutes the Heavenly Ritual Prayer. From the Fire Deity's origins, when its violence grew rampant, they were granted preventive methods by the gods. They had also come to know this deity's weaknesses. The passage explains how even the existence of its enemies—water, gourds, clay, and river greens—became understood through the mother goddess's providence. Through these divine words, they threatened the spirits' vulnerabilities. This ritual prayer stands among the oldest extant examples and, I believe, may reveal traces of Congratulatory Ritual Speeches extending beyond mere longevity formulae. However, the phrases excluding the Heavenly Ritual Prayers belong to a significantly later period.

To her most beloved Kisu, she gave birth to Homusubi-no-Kami; her very body burned as she retreated into the rocks. For seven nights and seven days: "Do not look upon me."
"My husband’s life," she declared.
When seven days proved insufficient and he deemed her concealment suspicious, she gave birth to fire, her flesh burning once more.

Phrases such as these were archaic in style, yet their expression remained unpolished.
Nothing else as crudely ancient could be found elsewhere.
They fully preserved the ancient call-and-response structure.

Other ritual prayers invoking "Heavenly Decrees and such" retained so little of their purported essence that one might suspect separate Heavenly Ritual Prayers had existed whose relevant portions they failed to present.
The Heavenly Ritual Prayers appearing in the Ōharae Norito had likely been omitted from the text—some seemed to flaunt their lineage to intimidate spirits, while others one might suspect were motivated by baser intentions: attempts to assign historical periods to their households’ ritual prayer traditions.

The incantations of the Heavenly Ritual Prayers are among the oldest, and many of these have been lost to transmission.
The incantation referred to as *tohokamiemitame*—the so-called Three Types of Ritual Prayers—being regarded as Heavenly Decrees was Suzuki Shigetane.

V. Heavenly Ritual Prayers

It appeared there were various kinds of Heavenly Ritual Prayers.
Even in the Fire-Calming Festival’s ritual prayers, the inserted portions—such as *tohokamiemitame*—had changed considerably in nature.
This ritual prayer containing Heavenly Ritual Prayers and incorporating reciters’ interpretations belonged to the second period.
The immediately preceding form—classified under the designation of Heavenly Ritual Prayers—constituted an ancient Congratulatory Ritual Speech.
Forms from the third period onward rested on the concept that their potency as incantations emerged through mirroring divine Congratulatory Ritual Speeches.
Their creators were likely authorities who served as manifest deities—that is, Shinto priests.
As for the fourth period, this marked an era when incantation representatives became established in the grandest court of manifest deities—the time of Emperor Tenmu.

The name Ōnorito no Mikoto appears in the "Tortoise Divination Ritual Text (Shaku-ki Quoted Tortoise Omen Transmission)," while the Tortoise Omen Transmission Commentary records Kamitsuhime no Mikoto under another name: Amatsunoritoto Ōnorito no Mikoto. At first glance, these deities appeared to govern divination. Pushing this analysis further, they would belong to the category of deities associated with the Three Types of Ritual Prayers. I maintain that Kamitsuhime no Mikoto fundamentally served as the deity of turtle divination. Ōnorito no Mikoto might be understood as the general deity presiding over Heavenly Ritual Prayers, while Kamitsuhime no Mikoto might specifically govern the *tohokamiemitame* incantation forming part of them. This deity—the patron of ritual prayer specialists—could apparently be conceptualized as either a singular or dual entity. Should this interpretation hold validity, what position might Ōnorito no Mikoto occupy relative to Congratulatory Ritual Speeches and standard ritual prayers?

Judging from the content of ritual prayers, the first oral transmitters of incantations would appear to be Kaburoki and Kaburomi no Mikoto.
However, this was merely a legend; before they became so unified, there must have been numerous gods who initiated oral transmissions.
From their reverence for the antiquity of transmission, they likely gravitated toward more powerful gods.
Even if Amatsunoritoto Ōnorito no Mikoto was regarded as a deity possessing certain functions concerning all ancient incantations, it remains unknown since when this came to be.

From the mentality of transmitting divine words arose the conception of gods inherent to incantations themselves, necessitating also the existence of deities who safeguarded the incantations’ potency and forestalled their oblivion. In this sense, would it not be that the deity bearing the mysterious name Ōnorito no Mikoto also came to be enshrined? Beyond this, there now exist two interpretations. One might also consider these possibilities: whether it refers to the first deity who orally transmitted incantations, or a deity that frequently manifests within incantations—that is, the deification of a particular incantation’s potency.

The question of why Kamitsuhime—a goddess of turtle divination worshipped by the Urabe diviners of Amabe in Iki—bore a connection to ritual prayers demanded an explanation of the interplay between ritual invocations and divination.
Not only the Three Types of Ritual Prayers but also Congratulatory Ritual Speeches and ritual prayers appeared to frequently involve associations with divination.
Even practices such as sake divination had often belonged to the realm of divination.
The “ho” revealed by the gods was a metaphorical expression.
When considering that the original meaning of *hogu* lay in using a thing’s current state to guarantee another thing’s destiny exactly as this, people naturally desired the most favorable manifestation of “ho” possible.
Prayers necessarily involved the question of what would happen.
I held the supposition that the duties of ritual prayer masters (*nori-shi*) had given rise to magic-like incantation specialists (*noro-nji*).
Magic was the artistic refinement of divination.

Set up this tamagushi and, from sunset until morning light shines forth, proclaim with words the Heavenly Ritual Prayer and the Grand Decree. If one proclaims thus, the divination signs shall become clear, emerging like bamboo shoots from earth. From beneath it, the Eight Wells of Heaven shall emerge. ……(Nakatomi Congratulatory Ritual Speech)

When viewed in this light, we come to understand that incantations fall into two types: those producing immediate results, and those wherein the *ho*—a reservation of outcomes—manifests during their recitation. The subsequent mentality to emerge was the concept of attempting to draw divine will through metaphors of anticipated results.

If we speak of the order of emergence in terms of content, the category of Heavenly Decrees adopted direct expressions toward results. The adoption of *ho* as an essential element marked the second period of Congratulatory Ritual Speeches. The third period was characterized by an inclination toward divination from the gods’ “ho” on one hand, while on the other, stringing together human-made “ho” through language in an attempt to conversely bring about auspicious results. In our country’s Congratulatory Ritual Speeches that served as incantations, there were many of this type, and they appeared to have been carried over into ritual prayers as they were. When viewed through external periodization, the time when Shinto priests as manifest deities produced Congratulatory Ritual Speeches as divine mouthpieces saw a marked increase in those falling within this category. The creations of fourth-period incantation authors became markedly utilitarian. As the concept of manifest deities waned, prayers derived from human reasoning came to be directed merely toward the gods.

VI. Incantations

Incantations adopted metaphorical expressions, and from this locus of drawing forth divine will emerged magical practices.
The jewel used in the Ōtono-sai festival and Shingōshi ritual offerings had already entered this domain.
What particularly abounded in linguistic incantations was the Congratulatory Ritual Speech.
Each divine treasure employed in ritual offerings carried its own significance.
White jewels, red jewels, blue jewels, horizontal swords, white horses, white swans, woven patterns, young marsh waters, and mirrors became metaphors, followed by strings of auspicious phrases.
These were abstractly expanded from nominal metaphors.
The older the transmitted metaphors grew through time, the more they accumulated concrete associations and resemblances.
Tokiwa ("Eternal Rock") and Kataiwa ("Solid Rock") in fact originated from ancient chamber rites (*murohogi*), where parallels were discerned between bedrock stones/wall stones and life's steadfastness.

The terms "Ama no Yasokage" (Eightyfold Heavenly Shade; alternatively Heavenly Divine Shade or Solar Divine Shade) and expressions like "kudzu roots" all refer to kudzu ropes tied and hanging from the ridge of a house. They too were conceived in the chamber rites. Their length made them employed as an auspicious analogy for life’s longevity. From the mulberry tree’s vigorous vitality emerged the set phrase *ikashi yasōshi* (“eight thriving mulberry branches”). These were not simple metaphors as modern people might conceive them, but rather stemmed from an age when magic was practiced through these objects’ inherent allure. Through these substances’ power to infect others, practitioners sought to induce reactions in target objects.

While similarly utilizing infectious power, there existed another cause through which results manifested in notably intertwined ways.
This was the concept of word-spirits.
The theory positing spirits dwelling within human speech—which until then had been extolled without restriction—now required certain conditions imposed upon it.
This phenomenon belonged not to prose-like everyday dialogue but solely to oracles and divine utterances—or so they believed.
The supposition that Ōnorito no Mikoto might not represent this type of deity was something I had previously raised.
Kotodama are not word-spirits per se but rather spirits inhabiting texts of divine oracles.

Now, what we call the flourishing of kotodama referred to their activity directing itself toward objects and exerting a mysterious power.
The phrase “the eight crossroads where kotodama flourish” found in ancient forms of crossroads divination reflected how practitioners perceived divine intent in the unconsciously uttered words of passersby, harnessing their implications as manifestations of sacred texts’ spiritual power.
In short, it appeared to be a term referring to the incantatory power and prophetic power of divine words.
From this faith, even incantations created by humans came to be regarded as possessing spiritual power through divine sanction.
Even when viewed from the perspective of evening divination, the connection with Kamitsuhime could be explained.

While speaking of Congratulatory Ritual Speeches, my discussion had delved into the realm of ritual prayers that still lacked any explanation.
Yet nothing possessed boundaries as thoroughly intermingled as these two.
To explicate one meant being compelled to treat the other as annotation.
As the scope of Congratulatory Ritual Speeches contracted while Ritual Prayers progressively expanded into new domains, they generally came to be distinguished by two separate designations.
Even elements that ought properly to be called new ritual prayers were still termed Congratulatory Ritual Speeches during the late Asuka period and the age of the Fujiwara capital.
The appellation *norito* (Ritual Prayers) emerged upon entering the Nara period; what had until then been confined exclusively to "*nori to iu*"—ritual utterances chanted at sacred sites called Tsugeridokoro—gradually came to encompass all forms of incantation.

The Life of Itinerant Performers

I. The Office of Congratulatory Rites

The notion that bearing karmic diseases originated from outcast beggars—in the sense of katai—is first and foremost established theory. If that is so, then the reason the same patients have been called *monoyoshi* for three hundred years also becomes clear. It may be considered whether such patients were numerous among those engaged in the lowly occupation of *monoyoshi*, or whether it simply contained the derogatory implication of being called a “beggar’s disease.” It may be considered that *monoyoshi* had undergone the process of being old-meaning beggars—that is, wandering celebrants (itinerant performers)—before becoming modern-style beggars. Speaking of *Senshū Manzai*—though the term carries pompous connotations—there was ultimately no distinction from the folk *monoyoshi*, to the extent that it later became a new appellation for part of the *monoyoshi*.

The *monoyoshi*—one of the numerous hinin settlements around Nara—clearly possessed documentation demonstrating their engagement in *hokai* practices.

In the *Senku Tsukiawase* cited in *Wakun no Shiori*, they stated that due to the meritorious power of *monoyoshi*’s congratulatory rites—which rendered estates unshakable—"even rocks did not tremble," while in the appended verse, this transformed into "kei" (scene/landscape).

Welcoming the horse ascending late at night from the east—even in dreams, *mono* fares well.

A certain kyōka from *Horikawa Hyakushu* reveals the original meaning of *monoyoshi*.
While *mono* appears to share the agricultural connotation of terms like “yields,” it may instead represent a vague mode of expression—a certain conventional notion since the imperial era—whereby fortune came to be called *mono* through its incorporation into the conceptual framework of “things.”

Eke Shidai preserved the oldest extant document using the characters for monoyoshi.
The connection between the concept of monoyoshi was certain, but there remained doubt regarding the reading of its suffix.
It became an unofficial New Year's congratulatory rite and could be said to be the origin of the court's New Year ceremony known as the "Congratulatory Rites of the Sacred Tree."
The significance of *mono* lay in how its content had been utilized quite extensively.
It also gave the impression of something like annual fortune.

In the households of daimyō and shōmyō, the congratulatory rites performed by household retainers likely encompassed various practices beyond those resembling *Senshū Manzai*. From late autumn through spring, two other matters stood out in addition to these. One was “Dream Casting (the prototype of *hatsuyume*)”, and the other was the previously discussed “Congratulatory Rites of the Sacred Tree.” These rituals presumably served as ancillary duties for a certain class of samurai retainers since ancient times.

Even when termed “household members,” this servile class—merely a type of slave euphemistically renamed “household children” across eras—never bore a title as honorable as what later warrior clans perceived in the designation *gokenin*. The attendants who served monzeki temples were phonetically read as *kōnin*, but they originated as samurai retainers who emulated *toneri* courtiers to become private *zuijin* attendants. That they derived from temple servants did not mean they were half-monk and half-layperson; rather, they merely adopted the guise of companions while living lifestyles more secular than ordinary householders’, showing no compunction about killing. The Yamabushi mountain ascetics and Nanto Daishu were protest groups formed by these attendants. That many companions emerging after the Muromachi Palace’s establishment—even those abandoning violence—originated from shrine and temple servants serves as one explanatory note.

To the samurai’s chant of “The august one beneath the Sacred Tree,” the lord responded: “Indeed, that matter.”
“It proceeds auspiciously,” answered the lord, serving as proxy for his own spirit.
These constituted a type of Return Ritual Prayers.
The form likely involved promptly voicing externally what should have emanated internally from the recipient of the Congratulatory Ritual Speech.
This became comprehensible if one supposed there had existed a format where the Emperor’s inner voice responded during His Majesty’s reception of New Year’s congratulatory rites.
It would mean acting as substitute for responses uttered by spirits dwelling within oneself when replying to Congratulatory Rites.
The New Year’s rites were not conducted merely through qualifications as court dignitaries.
They appeared to have originated from the ritual capacity that Shinto priests naturally possessed as clan leaders and village lords.

Return Ritual Prayers were something that Mr. Hoshino Teruoki of the Imperial Household Agency’s Ceremonial Department collected many of.

The appearance of Senshū Manzai in the New Year congratulatory rites of the imperial court first became evident around the Muromachi period.
This was the work of itinerant performers from Kitabatake and Sakuramachi.
Many of the Inbe clan’s duties had transferred into the hands of the Urabe.
These duties further shifted toward Onmyōdō (yin-yang divination), likely transforming into the primary responsibilities of their subordinate slave communities.
Shrine and temple slaves were liable to be misunderstood as constituting a single entity in certain respects.
They utilized this misunderstanding as well, making it their livelihood through oral performances.
When protection from shrines and temples became insufficient, they clung to society’s undiscriminating mindset and generally moved into broadly similar professions.
Setting aside side occupations in handicrafts—those grounded in traditional transmission—the main profession was in fact prone to disarray; even when consolidating these, it remained inconspicuous.
Itinerant performers such as chanters, being mostly temple slaves or shrine slaves by qualification, formed an intermingled profession of complex nature; yet this can also be considered from the perspective that the contours of the term “itinerant performance” had expanded indiscriminately to encompass all aspects.

Those who emerged from temple slaves likely sustained themselves through oral performances by narrating sekkyō—passages with minimal regulatory elements that emphasized rhythmic oral delivery—imitating the liturgical recitations of Mii-dera’s sekkyōshi reciters and Mount Hiei’s ritual instructors through doctrinal examples of foundational vows, worldly benefits, and karmic retribution.
Then, while absorbing influence from later-emerging Dengaku and Sarugaku Noh traditions, their repertoire appears to have transformed entirely upon entering the Muromachi period.
Meanwhile, among shrine slaves called *shinjin* (“divine persons”), subordinates of the Urabe clan sustained themselves through Inbe-style “estate praises” resembling Congratulatory Ritual Speeches and periodic folk purification rites—which served both as this group’s sole livelihood and what appeared to be the *shinjin*’s exclusive income source.
These groups gradually merged from the imperial court’s twilight years, eventually producing exorcism priests—overseers wearing paper crowns like those documented in *Konjaku Monogatari* (*Tales of Times Now Past*).
As this was an era when Shinto priests and shrine attendants felt no conflict serving both gods and buddhas, people long regarded even such bizarre-looking ritual officials without suspicion.
Moreover, there had always existed an implicit necessity to connect this practice with chanting’s primary occupation.
This stems from how the oldest form of itinerant performers became its archetype.

It was at the beginning of the Edo period that subordinate chanters under the Tsuchimikado family were compelled to abandon Sekkyō recitations due to their prohibition.
Until then, as a new form of Sekkyō recitation, they had employed *utai*-style lyrical compositions and *kuse mai* dances while conducting purification rites and estate praises.
Yet relatively speaking, during the Warring States period, there existed among the common people a peaceful life that defied historians' expectations.
They came to lead lives firmly rooted to the land.
Side occupations came to be recognized by society to such an extent that they could sustain livelihoods.
While this point differed slightly—even considering how Dengaku and Sarugaku actors frequently toured the remote territories of patron clans—they could not be conflated with fully settled farmers.

As *monoyoshi* early lost their connection with shrines and the court’s *Senshū Manzai* came to join hands with chanters, the New Year’s congratulatory rites performed by household retainers of regional daimyō and shōmyō likely ceased to be limited to samurai of certain family lines.
In congratulatory rites as well, there emerged those that became increasingly professionalized and those that lost their professional consciousness.

*Monoyoshi* and *manzai* came to appear as two distinct entities due to differing appellations in folk and court contexts, but they were originally one and the same.
All local *monoyoshi* transformed into court-style or urban appellations, until by the Meiji and Taisho periods they were forgotten to the point of being listed in national language dictionaries as “an alternate name for leprosy; dialectal term.”

Linguistically speaking, *monoyoshi* likely constituted an older appellation than the latter—which appears to have repetitively appended phrases like "Senshū Manzai" at their conclusions—when viewed through lexical evolution.
It would be hasty to conclude that this *monoyoshi* directly continued from itinerant performers (*hoka hito*) prior to semantic differentiation; however, one might say their eras were roughly contiguous.
Rather than viewing the practices—daily and monthly reckonings, agricultural encouragement, congratulatory rites—performed by shrine attendants as having sequentially transformed into subsequent forms, one could instead consider them as having emerged later from a single origin that took on diverse shapes and hues across eras and regions.
However, since this would only complicate the logic further, we had to abandon emphasizing considerations of direct or collateral lineage and instead focus on observing the facts.

II. An Annotation on the “Beggar’s Chant”

Book 16 of the Man'yōshū collected many works that appear to be fragments of epic poetry.
Among these, what stands out as particularly unconventional are the two long poems labeled “Beggar’s Chants.”
Even if one need not interpret these specifically as songs of itinerant performers, the concept of beggars at that time and their lifestyle becomes discernible.
[The term] contains the derogatory implication of those supported by others—people who made their living through travel rather than settled occupations.
It by no means refers to propertyless vagrants of the early modern period.
Moreover, it is certain that they were itinerant performers.

By the mid-Heian period, hokahi had become indistinguishable from beggars; we may tentatively use this as a foundation to advance our inferences.
Itinerant performers were those who made their rounds carrying professionalized ritual practices—chanting Congratulatory Ritual Speeches while conducting rituals as hokahi in chambers and halls—which had undergone differentiation in content and artistic refinement.
That they constituted the earliest itinerant performers—door-to-door entertainers—is, I believe, an accurate conjecture when inferred from etymology.

In that case, doubts arise as to whether the lyrical compositions carried by itinerant performers were creative works.
As Congratulatory Ritual Speeches gradually broke down, incorporated external elements, and became increasingly epic in form, the ingenuity aimed at genuinely entertaining people’s eyes and ears likely underwent rapid transformation in due course.
What previous scholars did not believe—and what must absolutely be incorporated into theater history—is the existence of puppets.
Moreover, there existed dances performed to accompany epic poetry.
This matter will be discussed at a later opportunity.

This poem contains many elements thought to gain significance precisely through accompanying gestures, even when considered based on its content alone.
"The Deer Song" appears structured to enact movements such as a deer bowing—raising and lowering its neck—and leaping about with nimble motions.
"The Crab Song" similarly evokes vivid imagery through depictions of sideways crawling figures, bubble-blowing, and shifting eyes.
It remains unclear whether humans performed these gestures themselves or demonstrated them using puppets.
What pleased ancient people about dance lay primarily in its gestural aspects.
Indeed, their traces remain clearly visible.
This became intricately intertwined with ritual theater, increasingly gravitating toward using mimicry to provoke laughter.
Both Sarugaku and Kabuki theater reveal through their very names that they consist of mimicry and gestures portraying human follies alongside familiar animals' peculiar movements.

If imagination permits, I would like to annotate this poem as follows. Deer were fearsome enemies in mountainous regions; crabs were fearsome enemies in waterside farming villages. While deer posed threats of course, the devastation of rice plants from being eaten and clawed by crabs had been a bitter experience endured since ancestral times. That agricultural incantations for harvest prognostication likely contained phrases related to wind and water could be inferred from the later ritual prayers that emerged. However, they made no mention of harm caused by animals. Yet there can be no doubt that besides the Ritual Prayers transmitted from the court to provincial shrines, Incantations suited to local circumstances had been passed down within shrines themselves. I believe there were also Incantations that sought to threaten birds, beasts, and insects into retreat.

When the *hokahi* style differentiated and began evolving into an artistic form, expressions tormenting those animals became strongly pronounced in their wording; they began performing such actions through gestures, and furthermore, expressions emerged—both in lyrics and gestures—depicting them surrendering and proclaiming it an honor to sacrifice themselves for humans. Then, the original significance behind this song’s creation became comprehensible.
I wish to defer discussion of this song’s formal aspects to a later occasion.

III. The Dance of Mimetic Gestures

To strengthen incantations' efficacy, practitioners performed spirit-provoking or intimidating gestures during recitation.
Even within Dengaku and Sarugaku traditions, traces persisted of them physically enacting the totsugi method.
This ritual dynamic emerged when spirits grew preoccupied with contemplating abundant harvests.
Ceremonialists doubtlessly engaged in acts of spiritually disciplining through torment.
Such gestural practices formed one foundational element linking physical movement to sacred rites.
Furthermore, this choreographic transformation—where rituals became dance-dramas—culminated in codified gesture dances.

The Hayato’s ritual gestures (*wazao-gi*), while serving as an explanation for the origins of epic poetry, likely serve merely as description; they may be perceived as having minimal choreographic transformation, as they imitate gestures mimicking a drowning person.

While it is conventionally held that *Tatsutsumai* derives its name from dancers repeatedly standing and sitting during performance, this interpretation likely became obscured because older forms of “*Shuju-mai*” (Dwarf Dance)—frequently performed among the populace after the imperial court era—were transmitted through miswritten character forms, while the archaic term *tatsutsu* persisted as its designation.
The one who performed this dance was Prince Ōke; that it occurred during the *Shukumi no Murohogi* ritual—repeatedly referenced—becomes explicable if one traces back to the Heian-period conception of household spirits as dwarves.

The Torinakomai was a dance long celebrated at Ise Grand Shrine.
Generally called the Hiyoiyoi Dance and said to mimic a chicken chick’s form, it indeed involved body movements resembling a limping run.
It could not be said that gestures—whether performed by people or puppets—imitating deer and crabs’ exaggerated motions had failed to accompany songs of itinerant performers from the Congratulatory Ritual Speech lineage.

IV. Relics of the Itinerant Performers

What the itinerant performers left to posterity were tools bearing their name, in addition to their esteemed appellations and door-to-door performing arts.
The vessels called *tobei* and *tobei-an* seen in texts like the *Engishiki* are said to be identical to the *hokai* (traveling case).
It has been thought that their legs—facing outward in a cat-foot style and numbering four—originated from this feature.
It was quite large and was thought to have had an appearance reminiscent of a Chinese-style chest.
The slightly smaller item with a rim that appeared to serve dishes and function as a makeshift desk seemed to have been called *tobei-an*.
Even if there was a phonetic distinction between *hi* and *wi*, during this period when the phonological values of these two sounds had not yet stabilized and could freely transform, the difference in kana characters did not signify a difference in meaning.

However, the *hokai* of slightly later eras among the populace were not that large.
Their form also appeared to have changed considerably.
This vessel frequently depicted in picture scrolls had a much smaller form—something that could be carried alone during travels or long journeys.

I believe people found this vessel commonly used by itinerant performers convenient and began widely adopting its form regardless of size. If I may venture one step further in speculation, travel in antiquity would have involved carrying as many items as possible—placing them on heads, hanging them from necks, or shouldering them. It seems tools capable of transporting luggage for two or even three people—whether carried on shoulders or hung from hands—came to be domestically produced through the hands of seasoned travelers among itinerant performers. If that is the case, then it follows logically that *hokahi*—the abbreviated form of *hokahibito* (itinerant performers)—would become the vessel’s name as a commemoration of its inventors.

The fact that *hokai* (traveling case) would be pronounced as *hokahi* in clear sound could also be inferred from its ateji (phonetic character assignment) as *tobei*. Mr. Koizumi Chikashi also informed me that in his hometown area of Awa District, Bōshū, they pronounced it without voicing, and that the term had been preserved exclusively for use when carrying offerings from each household up the mountain during the Mountain God Festival.

If the tobei used at court shared origins with hokai traveling cases, all details regarding when and through what procedures they were adopted remained unknown.
Only that these were vessels related to rituals was almost certain.

Even as they ventured into performing arts as itinerant entertainers, it could be surmised they continued their primary work of reciting incantations.
No matter how their professions diversified,a form of divine faith continued being transmitted.
While traveling around reciting Congratulatory Ritual Speeches and performing door-to-door arts，it was unthinkable they did not carry boxes containing spirit vessels—sacred objects.
There were frequent examples of wandering preachers transporting box-enclosed divine spirits.
The hokai had originally been intended for precisely this purpose，though its applications gradually expanded.
Mr.Yanagita Kunio once published a paper titled *“Utsubo and the Water Deity”*（Historical Studies）.
He expounded how these boxes served not merely as containers but spirit repositories，and how tracing this lineage revealed the religious significance of hisago gourds and utsubo vessels.
If you examine this work，you will swiftly come to accept my argument.

The origin of the tool called *hokahi* demonstrated that itinerant performers were simultaneously wandering preachers, while the existence of ritual performer groups undertaking prolonged journeys already in the Fujiwara capital suggested what must be termed a subtle karmic connection.

V. The Decline of the Hokahi

The creation of beggar chants occurred in an era when—however new it may seem—the populace had not yet developed a creative consciousness.
The first emergence of creative poetry, if we are to take a representative figure, was during the latter half of Kakinomoto no Hitomaro’s lifetime.
The metamorphosis of Incantation Epic Poetry—which appears to resemble lyrical poems about crabs and deer—emerged around a time thought to be either contemporaneous with the first half period or slightly earlier.

While its form adhered to the structure of Congratulatory Ritual Speeches, its content adopted a conception reminiscent of the lyrical sections of epic poetry.
This demonstrated the incipient fusion between Congratulatory Ritual Speeches and the kataribe reciters.
And under what circumstances did those itinerant performers come to embark on a wandering existence?

As professional groups transmitting epic poetry, *kataribe* did exist; however, whether there had been recognized professional organizations dedicated to Congratulatory Ritual Speeches remained questionable. Not only were there no traces of independence among *hokahi*-type shrine attendants, but counterevidence even existed. While *norito* ritual prayers were of course recited, there had been numerous examples of even Congratulatory Ritual Speeches being orally delivered by high-ranking shrine officials—likely originating from shrine priests belonging to each clan (*kuni no miyatsuko* equated to village lords. Yet there were even instances of high-ranking officials—masters serving as clan chieftains (*uji no kami*)—presenting such speeches. In that case, one could say this had not yet developed into ritual ceremonies with specialized professions or hereditary occupational consciousness. Moreover, by the Heian period, ritual prayer masters (*nori-shi*) and other shrine personnel of relatively lower status had already begun to appear. Originally, reciting incantations had not been the exclusive domain of village lords; rather, beyond important traditional village ceremonies, they became dissociated from Congratulatory Ritual Speeches. When that occurred, the qualifications of shrine personnel involved in this ritual work gradually declined. Furthermore, in regions retaining memories from an era preceding the conceptualization of village lords and other leaders, young men who underwent coming-of-age ceremonies acted as temporary shrine priests—impersonating deities and reciting incantations. This practice remained not only in Okinawa but even in mainland Japan during the Taisho era. Given such circumstances, there existed among youths—both shrine attendants and Shinto priests—various individuals reciting incantations, alongside those who suddenly developed religious awareness; thus, those handling incantations must have been extraordinarily diverse.

It could be surmised that Congratulatory Ritual Speeches auspiciously anticipating village households and their produce increasingly became the work of young people or lower-ranking shrine personnel.
As village religions gradually became systematized into the shrine system, those with weaker connections to shrines began falling behind.
The itinerant performers originated from before the shrine system era, and even afterward maintained scarce interactions with shrines.
The shrine personnel involved in these practices—not being proper shrine priests themselves—gradually came to be viewed with diminished regard.
At court, where Nakatomi and Inbe priests jointly performed incantations, the Nakatomi advanced alongside the shrine system while the Inbe adhered to traditional hokahi practices—a divergence that inevitably saw the latter overshadowed by the former.

Even at shrines, it was not that there were no duties for the itinerant performers' side.
Moreover, beyond purification rites, divination, and magical practices, even “Prayers for Bountiful Harvests (*Kokugen*)” and “Prayers for Longevity (*Reigen*)”—deeply connected to the semantic essence of ritual speeches—had fallen outside their domain.

When shrine presence became the sole criterion for divine qualification, the spirits targeted by itinerants were clearly demoted in rank.
As this occurred, Congratulatory Ritual Speeches naturally declined in value, while high-meaning Speeches alongside new incantations for purified gods came to replace them under the name of *norito* prayers.

What manner of people formed the origins of those itinerant performers who—as Congratulatory Ritual Speeches were already declining in status—further diversified into a distinct profession? It is thought that the earliest form of this professionalization involved those who—as temporary shrine priests—were young men from villages proficient in itinerant performance arts, or shrine personnel from villages estranged from their powerful clan patrons, now exiled or fallen into decline; these individuals traveled about reciting Congratulatory Ritual Speeches alongside divination, purification rites, and magical practices.

In an era when mutual wariness between villages had not yet fully dissipated, these travelers must have been relatively at ease. The gods of foreign lands were both feared and revered. Over existing gods whose spiritual authority had somewhat dulled, vigorous newly arrived deities would often press in with their dual possibilities of blessing or calamity. The shrine personnel who brought new guest deities from foreign lands also demonstrated the power of incantations. At the same time as reciting ritual speeches, they could ravage lifespans and harvests, and even summon plagues and rice pests. The Tokoyo deity rituals conducted in Suruga (Keitai-ki) and the eastward spread of Hachiman faith from Kyushu demonstrate how powerfully these new deities stirred people’s hearts. The fact that itinerant performers were able to make their livelihood by journeying through foreign lands cannot be fully understood without considering this point.

As they toured from village to village, they spread linguistic traditions wherever they went. Considering they bore the aforementioned authority, one could perceive their activities had unexpectedly achieved significant results.

Besides this, shrine servants too seemed to have participated in this initial movement. However, how members of the slave class could freely wander about—this point defied explanation. Therefore, I shall set this matter aside for now and would like to consider it further.

VI. The Dissemination of Epic Poetry

The fact that itinerant performers (*hokahi*) were not organized into professional groups like the *kataribe* reciters can be seen as the reason their activities as traveling performers came to encompass diverse aspects.

As evidenced even in beggar chants, the incorporation of dramatic structures and lyrical conceptions into Congratulatory Ritual Speeches' form could only stem from the influence of *kataribe* narratives.
I consider that among shrine personnel who had lost their protectors were included village *kataribe* as well.
Moreover, if *hokahi* (Congratulatory Ritual Speeches) did not constitute specialized duties of shrine personnel, there likely existed individuals who functioned both as *kataribe* reciters performing itinerant rites and as itinerant performers versed to some degree in "narratives."
Originally, these were individuals not entirely unacquainted with matters concerning the gods.
That they incorporated the *kataribe*'s epic poetry into incantations and produced an altered form was by no means without cause.

It was not merely a matter of incorporation; even the act of reciting epics—which in their original essence were inherently distant from itinerant performers—in their unaltered form would naturally occur if *kataribe* had intermingled among the ranks of those performers.
Moreover, in fact, their traces will be gradually discussed, but they certainly remain.

Relatively complete narratives and their fragments were carried from particular villages to other locales. What emerged there became both an exchange of tales and their dissemination. What must not be overlooked is how this instilled new stimuli upon hearts untouched by literary impulses. Within the Kojiki, Nihon Shoki, Man'yōshū, and Fudoki lie abundant instances—legendary offshoots from single origins and typological patterns across multiple tale types. One could no longer simplistically resolve this by assuming myths and legends transposed from shared folkloric transmissions naturally exhibit resemblances. Given that itinerant performers had existed since at least the Nara period, it would be disingenuous not to posit a more potent driving force here.

The Dissemination of Epic Poetry

I. Wanderers

Before discussing the lives of the *kataribe* reciters, I found myself compelled to describe the state of itinerant performers during an era when their interactions with *kataribe* narratives deepened in the latter phase of Congratulatory Ritual Speeches.
Regarding this matter, I believed a preliminary groundwork had already been established through what might be called an overview I previously wrote; therefore, with apologies for the digression, I continued tracing the path through which itinerant performers became epic poetry.
The origin of Japanese courtesans and the path to their institutionalization—Mr. Yanagita Kunio’s theory on this matter stood for our academic community as a peerless masterwork and ironclad conclusion, rendering many prior scholars’ ideas dismissible.
Mr. Yanagita Kunio had evidenced the historical existence of *kugutsu*—ancient wanderers (*ukarebito*) who maintained nearly identical lifestyles down to meticulous details—and their female counterparts, the itinerant courtesans (*ukareme*), through a serialized work in an anthropology journal around Meiji 41 (1908/09).
This group—remnants of indigenous people who centered their lives on foreign deities—had periodically visited various regions until developing post stations and ports led them to settle at strategic land-sea junctions.
They reportedly established performances (song, dance, puppet theater) and prostitution as women’s primary trades, becoming known as lodging-house leaders or elders.
I considered that among these wanderers—descendants of unassimilated peoples—likely mingled self-exiled refugees who had voluntarily become stateless.
In short, that these constituted the itinerant performers was a matter I had addressed earlier.

The reasons shrine personnel lost the protection of powerful clans who were their chief patrons were complex in nature: the perishing of village lords who had protected the gods, and the alteration in the content of those lords' faith. Here too, the breakdown could be considered in roughly three categories—those who either adopted the gods of Yamato-honmura or translated them into manifestations in the suijaku style (Category 1); those from weak or perished villages who were nonetheless revered as new deities (Category 2); and Buddhism imbued with strong Taoist hues, also classifiable in the same category (3). In regions unable to adapt to this shift in faith, the gradual "death of the gods" had begun. While safeguarding the remains of those gods, individuals who utilized the authority of proclaiming a new deity's existence to other regions began escaping their native provinces one after another. Consequently, their faith practices both retained archaic elements and acquired a rigid form divorced from their original purpose. That the gods worshipped by wanderers appeared in strange forms to people from the mid-Heian period onward was partly due to this circumstance.

Regarding ritual dolls—a matter I had thus far neglected to address—among villages deeply intertwined with Yamato-honmura, there gradually emerged those that had long possessed dolls serving as divine substitutes. It cannot be definitively concluded that even Yamato villages lacked them. In an era when temporary divine substitutes progressively lost their significance and human substitutes became prevalent, it was no wonder that groups permanently devoted to enshrining ritual dolls came to be viewed as heretical.

The gods and shrine personnel of Ōmura, who had been held in respect by Yamato-honmura, likely experienced a fortunate transition while gradually undergoing Japanization.
However, in villages that enshrined deities not conceived as being connected by bloodline to the village lords, even when those lords retained their influence as district magistrates, the deities and shrine personnel faced misfortune.
The Taika Reform—which severed religion from governance—likely first manifested its actual effects in these types of villages.
Moreover, when individuals unrelated to provincial governors replaced them as district magistrates for some reason, or even when officials dispatched from the capital acted without regard for local circumstances, remaining in one's native province became an active source of hardship.
The shrine servants of Hyuga’s Tsuno Shrine were reduced to slaves of provincial officials through the governor’s personal authority.
The divine wrath—instead of bringing calamity upon these officials—resulted in the shrine servants’ lineage being eradicated (Hyūga Fudoki fragments).
This stands as a sorrowful testament to how the gods of provincial governors held sway over district magistrates yet proved powerless against Yamato-appointed officials.
Simultaneously, it demonstrates how lower-ranking shrine personnel fell into the plight of double slavery—a situation offering no hope of surfacing.
Among village shrine personnel existed those made into shrine servants of newly arrived Yamato gods and those treated like shrine servants’ slaves due to lowered divine status.
The suffering of remaining in one’s native province extended beyond these hardships alone.

Among the dependent households of villages, those that could sustain themselves even after losing their protectors were primarily households that had inherited specialized crafts.
The misery of those outside this group could be readily imagined.
The first to be cast off from the tides of the times and loss of protection were the dependent households of the shrine personnel class.

To consider exile as existing only in one or two individuals or a single household was to be too accustomed to the circumstances of the early modern period.
Prior to the Sengoku period, households that—under the pretext of developing new territories—abandoned their native provinces and migrated hundreds of miles away, taking numerous family groups with them, had been beyond count.
They were merely wanderers who walked bearing arms in place of faith.
These new wanderers served as mercenary forces and also lent their aid to local clans along the way.
Those who were fortunate became daimyo, while those who did not rise as high became gokenin with guest status under powerful clans or dwindled into non-gokenin and gōshi.

In the history of our nation’s household registration system, what had to be reconsidered once more was the matter of collective exile. From journeys seeking habitable lands emerged means of livelihood within the journeying itself until itinerancy became an established lifestyle. Even when the faith they held lost its power—as long as their performing arts did not stray from the era’s interests and until their occupation achieved complete differentiation—they wandered as displaced people.

Early modern art played such a crucial role in music, theater, and dance that one could say it developed almost entirely from beneath ceremonial umbrellas. The objects held over courtesans were not likely presumptuous imitations of nobles or Chinese customs. At Ashigara Mountain, the wandering courtesan who performed arts for the retinue of the former governor of Kazusa had set up her seat beneath a large umbrella (*Sarashina Nikki*). The "Dance of the Fields" mentioned in Ōkagami also appeared centered around an umbrella erected in the fields. These two were somewhat old examples from the late Heian period. From that time onward—with *dengaku* becoming prominent—there came to be few folk performances in which umbrellas did not appear. Beneath the umbrella was where principal ritual participants positioned themselves—a practice that had existed in the Yamato court even before continental influences arrived—one that expressed sacredness while providing protection. An instrument called the *sasara*, apparently associated with lineages of wandering women, likely underwent considerable formal changes in later periods though speculation suggested its existence since Manyō times. While these matters may not constitute conclusive evidence, did they not demonstrate that even seemingly exotic aspects showed no significant difference from settled people?

Regarding ritual dolls, there is one point: not only have early modern Shinto scholars failed to direct their attention to them, but they also seem predisposed not to consider them pure creations of ancient Japan—a matter I feel compelled to address.

II. Puppet Theater Prior to the Kugutsu

There are records from the mid-Heian period of women among the vagrant Kugutsu people performing puppet dances.
The period when these flourished began quite abruptly during the Muromachi era.
Historians have characterized this age as a dark time of warfare and samurai dominance, yet written records alone reveal it to have been an epoch brimming with vital energy that foreshadowed Edo’s plebeian culture.
This was a society that finally took notice of those who—wearied by the performative civility of upper and middle strata—had been buried beneath society’s lowest layers.
One may discern that even before this period, puppet theater had been sporadically performed by lower-ranking shrine attendants and Kugutsu practitioners.
The troupes welcomed by urbanites for their novel styles were likely centered around Nishinomiya in Hiroda, Settsu Province—though we must refrain from considering these the true origins of puppet drama.
Traditions from this region hold Awaji puppetry in particular esteem.
This reverence becomes understandable when we consider Nishinomiya’s maritime connections; master performers naturally emerged from Awaji islanders across the strait who operated under this deity’s influence.
By the Muromachi period, those employing male puppets gradually rose to prominence, though Nishinomiya-style puppet theater had originally been perfected through women’s hands—particularly those of courtesans.
These courtesans, who began settling at landing points along the Yodo River and its tributaries, maintained profound ties to Nishinomiya.
The dissemination of Nishinomiya worship through Kansai likely stemmed from wanderers’ evangelism.
These itinerants probably practiced the archaic hokai ritual form of divine visitation.
The puppet dance called Ebisu-kaki preserved this ancient simplicity for later generations.

Even into the early years of Taishō, beggars who wore masks, chanted “Lord Ebisu has come from Nishinomiya to give thanks,” and danced at every gate belonged to this lineage.
It is known that the “Daikoku Dance” was also among the gestural theater performances where people impersonated deities in relation to Ebisu-kaki puppets.
That the belatedly emerging “Daikoku Dance” had already expanded its domain beyond *hokai* by the Genroku era—its lyrics tending toward narrative complexity despite simple dance movements—demonstrates how repeated collapses of *hokai* along similar trajectories ultimately settled into lyrical compositions bearing dramatic conceptions.

When examining Nishinomiya Shrine specifically, the puppets that served as ritual substitutes for gods arriving from across the sea—made to perform divine gestures during each festival—came to be utilized in celebratory rites by wanderers, thereby taking their first steps into performance arts as gate ceremonies.

While placing ritual dolls at the center of festivals is particularly notable in Hachiman-lineage shrines, there also exist examples like Matsuo Shrine in Yamashiro—an ancient sanctuary employing puppets—and Kasuga Shrine, where dolls are occasionally regarded as the deity’s true form.
In regional shrines, it is currently rather common to conduct ritual processions centered around puppets.
These puppets are called “Aonō.”

When examining Usa Hachiman, the ritual functions of "Aonō" stood out with particular prominence. In the festival of Chikuzen's Shika Island—deeply connected to Hachiman—participants would row out to open waters to imbue ritual dolls with divine spirits, conducting ceremonies from boats to invoke the sea.

Heian-period documents reveal references within the imperial court to these ritual dolls and what seems to be a singular named entity termed "Sa no Otoko." These figures emerged during Mikagura performances. Previous scholarship had exclusively regarded Sa no Otoko as human comedians performing in Kagura spaces—a point I previously addressed in my discussion on incantatory developments. The Ega no Shidai and Saikyūki records likewise note that following the "Dance of the Human Pillar" and a sake round came the "Form of Sa no Otoko." This indicates that while later periods interpreted Sa no Otoko as human, its original form was that of a ritual doll.

The character 態 (*tai*) demonstrates how ritualized gestures were physically enacted. It appears that through performative reenactments—repeating movements originally made by puppets during Kagura—participants sought tangible comprehension of divine will. Even in eras when practitioners abstained from using puppets called *sai no o*, they likely maintained archaic imitations of puppet motions. At present, I maintain the validity of my prior interpretation.

The comic role labeled *modoki* (牾)—which mimics every motion of its counterpart to comically unsettle them—formed the humorous element of ritual theater. Does not "the Form of Sa no Otoko" reveal the embryonic stage of this *modoki* tradition? Fundamentally, Mikagura ceremonies at court undeniably show influences from Hachiman traditions across multiple dimensions. Thus, interpreting Sa no Otoko as ritual dolls equivalent to Aonō remains logically consistent.

In ancient times when epidemics spread, [they] would create giant effigies of deities, place them along roadsides, and enshrine them (*Shoku Nihongi*). Even today during rice pest expulsion rituals, they carry straw dolls around and discard them in distant places. They believe all rice pests will attach themselves and depart. These were idols of the spirits of defilement, sin, and calamity. The concept held that they would carry away all impending harm in its entirety and return to their original realm.

The ritual objects for purification serving as human substitutes have undergone a slight shift in meaning. This concept of substitution through proxy objects bears Taoist influence that became infused into the practice.

In any case, what people of old were constantly familiar with were either their own ritual substitutes or beast-shaped idols—transformed from lions and dogs—that they kept close at hand to absorb and store impurities and calamities.
However, the origin of ritual dolls cannot be solely attributed to such impurity-transferring substitutes as *amagatsu* and *hōko*.
The cause behind the emergence of the custom of handling dolls can only be said to have first found its starting point in these bedside idols.
Dolls that resembled conglomerations of impurity, calamity, and sin—yet once people grew accustomed to them—they came to play with them.
The Five Seasonal Festivals were all Chinese folk traditions intended to avoid malevolent energies that took advantage of seasonal transitions to afflict people.
To these practices was added another layer of purification ideology, rigorously reinforcing the seasonal festival rites.
The dolls of March and May originated from temporarily enshrining divine substitutes that were floated away in rituals to send off deities—a concept that later transformed into our modern understanding of dolls.
Places that enshrine dolls during Tanabata and the Double Ninth Festival still exist today.
One can imagine that on Obon’s spirit altars there existed idols for spirits to inhabit alongside their ceremonial vehicles.
Obon too had largely syncretized the form of the “Summer Purification Ritual.”

The Omina Kami that the Sarashina Nikki author prayed to with youthful devotion; the dolls suspended from bamboo leaves during the imperial Miya-me Festival; the Hassaku Himegozen still observed in northern Kyushu—these were not objects for transferring impurities. Moreover, dolls serving as the true form of deities were fundamentally made as temporary creations by principle. They differed root-and-branch from Buddhist statues meant for perpetual enshrinement. Those divine wooden effigies surviving today belonged to gods or mortals inhabiting ambiguous realms between Shinto and Buddhism. Ritual dolls endowed with divine status were typically fashioned anew for festivals alone, while those shielded from daylight and preserved long-term remained scarce.

Moreover, dolls serving as the true form of the gods did not appear to be limited solely to deities that caused trouble for humans.
If this point remained unclear, dolls would likely have been considered solely as products of impurity transfer.

There still existed regions that feared dolls.
The emotions arising from both awe and defilement lingered in remote areas.
It was indeed true that puppeteers in troupes such as Bunraku-za felt their puppets possessed a lifelike quality.
On Okinawa Main Island existed people called nenbutsu practitioners who were viewed as below commoners.
In spring they carried a small box hung on the chest—known as *tera*.
This term encompassed shrine buildings, Buddhist temples, and wayside shrines.
They viewed the puppet stage as a sacred ritual space—within which they traveled throughout the island while manipulating puppets and chanting tales of a Japanese man named Kyōtarō.
The doll had deteriorated until its limbs became indistinguishable through long disuse, yet they handled it with great trepidation.
Mysterious occurrences were said to have often happened with this doll.

The cause of the vague notion that dolls did not exist in ancient times lay in how their initial creation and performances were attributed to Prince Shōtoku and Hata no Kawakatsu.
Masks particularly gave a strong impression of being post-foreign introduction, but when considering the migratory paths of the Japanese people, it could not be definitively claimed that they necessarily postdated *Bugaku* masks or the Buddhist and Bodhisattva masks used in *Nenkuyo* memorial services.
However, the mask-making by skilled artisans here belonged to temples, and because temporary productions by shrine priests came under the influence of their techniques or commissioned preservable wooden carvings, the original styles of masks became unknowable; it seemed appropriate to conclude that even their use in Shinto rituals had been entirely forgotten.

Since masks were meant to prevent people from considering that they represented gods embodied by humans—likely holding profound secrecy—and because those who used them presumably disposed of them appropriately out of concern that they might be seen by others, the very concept of "masks" would have remained unclear to ordinary people.
Moreover, in some regions, there existed practices of covering faces with broad leaves of plants—a custom still observable in the early modern period—stemming from the notion that it was preferable if people did not discern that a certain villager was performing an impersonation.
Therefore, there must have been masks and masked theater performances, but at present, I still cannot move beyond conjecture.

In an illustration from Ryūtei Tanehiko’s yomihon “Asama ga Take Omokage Zōshi,” there was depicted a scene where village ruffians, wearing various masks that had been hung at the shrine, forced their way into the home of a parentless maiden on New Year’s Eve and made off with her household belongings.
The practice of masked individuals visiting on New Year’s Eve undoubtedly derived from folk traditions.
The fact that terms such as *kabuku* (to cover) or *kaburu* (to don) have become standard expressions for masks indicates that ancient masks enveloped the face from above.

Even when observed in Noh theater, those who donned masks were women apart from gods and spirits.
In most cases, women were considered madwomen who were one with being spirit-possessed.
Besides the reason that Noh actors could not perform female roles with an unmasked face, one might consider that they were treated as equals for the sake of making the gods more present.
When one calmly considered the matter apart from legends linking Prince Shōtoku to Noh theater, one could imagine the dancing forms of Ta-asobi—their heads wrapped in simple masks—as prototypes for figures like Okina.
Might it not be that even Taima-dera’s Bosatsu Rendō was underpinned by the masked forms of deities descending in traditional Shinto festivals?

When examining elements within passages preserved in the Kojiki that retain epic poetic form, one discovers not only lyrical songs (*uta*) in poetic sections but also narrative *katari* segments among them.
The narrative portions constitute descriptive text.
The emergence of descriptive text cannot be regarded as an initial developmental stage.
Though formally structured in first-person perspective, its content assumes third-person stylistic qualities.
This clear unfolding of descriptive text’s significance originates from foundational demands for dramatic performance contexts.
This stylistic theory will likely receive detailed treatment on another occasion.

Thus, we may confidently believe in the existence of puppet theater.
However, to what extent did they reproduce physical expression?
To what extent were they used in village festivals?
All remain uncertain.
Did they use puppets to represent both gods from distant lands and local land spirits?
That too remains unknown.
From the perspective of later materials, the man of talent appears akin to local land spirits.
However, I have already written about this matter in the development of incantations.
Moreover, it cannot be definitively said that there were no mixed performances involving both humans and dolls.

In ritual puppet theater, there must have been performances consisting solely of simple dances. They must have annually reenacted the divine origins appearing in epic poetry. In short, in ritual theater—whether involving humans or puppets—the performers were solely physical expressions, with all lyrical and narrative elements being additions provided externally.

The ritual dolls of later eras would not have been the utterly motionless entities we imagine. Judging from the demeanor of those performing “the posture of the talented man,” the dolls themselves appear to have moved with considerable agility in their frolicsome antics.

Festival display dolls and their ilk were by no means an invention of the early modern period.
All festival floats—hoko, yama, dashi, danjiri—every one originated from the same concept as the "marker mountains" that had existed through the Heian period.
In early Heian times, they created Mount Penglai atop these marker mountains and placed figures of immortals there.
These marker mountains were sites of divine descent; practitioners dragged them to ritual grounds to welcome gods.
This constructed mountain served both to bind sacred emblems symbolizing divine objects and to install godly substitutes.
Likely hills adorned with foliage, marker mountains constituted one of antiquity’s rituals for receiving deities (*Izumo Fudoki*).
While their significance remained self-evident, people swiftly forgot why dolls had been placed upon them.

If immortal figures believed to originate from Taoism were indeed literally understood as dolls, they already existed during the Nara period's zenith—likely not playthings but objects venerated by *fangshi*.
The essence of immortal practices spanning the Fujiwara and Nara periods into early Heian times possessed sensuous beauty, even incorporating celestial maidens awaiting encounters with mortal men.
These were not simply the tattered immortals of later eras.
As for 'marker mountains,' their original significance faded into decorative immortal peaks embodying wishes for imperial longevity.
The placement of dolls—a practice predating Heian-period designs—would likely have constituted divine substitutes when their primordial meaning remained intact.

III. New Otherworldly Incantations

Lord Isonokami Furu, due to the bewilderment caused by a graceful woman, tied ropes to the horses and surrounded the livestock with bows and arrows; revering the Great Lord’s imperial command, he departed for the remote rural lands far from heaven.
Old clothes—will you not return from Matsuchi Mountain? (From “Three Poems and Short Poems Composed When Lord Isonokami no Otomaro Was Exiled to Tosa Province,” *Man'yōshū* Volume 6)

It was merely identified as a song from when someone had been exiled to Tosa, with no attribution to any individual.
From standard writing conventions, this should presumably have been labeled “Song of the People of the Time.”
Otherwise, following old commentaries’ manner, there ought to have been a note attributing the first two poems to “Otomaro’s wife (or alternatively, his counterpart Kume no Wakame)” and the latter two poems to “Otomaro’s songs.”
First, it would have been correct to treat this akin to “When Prince Asaotsu Was Exiled to Iragu Island in Ise Province, People Lamented and Composed Songs” in Volume 1.
If that were so, the opening phrase’s aloof formality became comprehensible.
Though one might consider that Furu and Isonokami—being neighboring areas where both clans shared Mononobe’s compound surnames and lineage—explained such phrasing, the Furu clan’s distinct existence provided no rationale for this expression.
By employing pillow words to evoke Isonokami and presenting Furu—whose reciprocal implications could be immediately grasped—to subtly allude to a famed incident’s protagonist likely resulted from happenstance, yet constituted an ingenious method.
This marked the first evidence that no close associate had composed it.
“The graceful woman’s bewilderment” too would have been an unnecessary detail unless part of a story-structured narrative.
Next emerged an oddity in geographical arrangement.
The poem depicted crossing Matsuchi Mountain.
Yet the third poem suggested traversing Oso no Saka at Kawachi’s border.
Since visiting Sumiyoshi Shrine formed the proper route, its appearance in the second poem likely indicated more than distant worship.
Thus arose contradiction.
The fourth tanka cited Ōsaki—a place name existing in every province.
To insist this specifically denoted Kii forced incongruity.
These mismatches revealed this poem was no exchange between actual parties.

To cross over to Tosa, departing via Kii was not the proper route.
It could not be said there were no instances of proceeding directly from the Kino River mouth toward Awa and heading to Tosa by following the coastline from beach to rocky shore, but the routes of the time would have departed from either Naniwa or Sumiyoshi.
In any case, the fact remained that there was a discrepancy in the proper route.

As itinerant performers recited wandering epics, natural transformations gradually emerging came to be narrated as tales that still resonated deeply through people’s rumors—and when they began entering history’s domain, memory’s confusion began perceiving fragments of ancient epics—whose origins had been forgotten—as lamentations of modern tragic romances, while unconscious revisions increasingly lent validity to this perception.
The opening phrases likely bore different personal names prior to their association with this incident.
For there was nothing as prone to change as the names of protagonists in epics and legends.

The poem of longing for the homeland composed by Yamato Takeru on his deathbed in the *Kojiki* was attributed in the *Nihon Shoki* to Emperor Keikō during his imperial tour of Tsukushi, and similarly appeared in the *Bungo Fudoki* (though it remained a somewhat questionable text).
This was but one example among many.

The phenomenon of interpretations being freely expanded over time and place was frequently observed within folk traditions, particularly in oral transmission.
These too could be regarded as variations of the Prince Kinashi Karu-type epic poetry without issue.
After all, since the Tale of Prince Karu was a type of noble exile narrative, its prior form had still existed.
To the form that narrated the wandering until the deity’s enshrinement, they richly added romantic embellishments, conceived causes, and attached human conclusions until it came to assume a semblance of historical truth.
Therefore, the distortions of epic poetry infinitely complicated history.
If we further pursued this line of inquiry, it could not be definitively stated that what were regarded as historical facts recorded in national histories following the *Shoku Nihongi* relied solely on court historians’ diaries and a limited number of foundational sources—excluding the use of legendary accounts or Chinese-style writings imitating contemporaneous folk narratives modeled after Chinese anecdotal histories.

When citing the most prominent example, works such as the Chu Ci and Jin-Tang period anecdotal histories contained numerous records of folk tales documenting sexual interactions between immortals and humans through first-person and third-person narratives. These narratives expanded even into what might be called the celestial palaces of the human realm—the imperial courts—not only recounting with decadent prose the affairs between emperors and goddesses but extending further to depict, in intricate and seductive detail, realms of amorous desire encompassing emperors and those within the inner palaces.

Since they were originally not products of imagination but records of folk narratives, the name “shōsetsu” came into being. The character ‘shō’ (小) served as a prefix denoting meanings related to commoners and urban life, forming a contrast with ‘dai’ (大), which represented officialdom. The term *setsu* (説) denoted folktales and legends.

Novels and anecdotal histories were thus one and the same—historical traditions transmitted among the populace that inherently anticipated containing inaccuracies.
This occurred because they placed excessive value on works compiled by official historians; however, gradually—even unconsciously—the authors themselves came to recognize that elements of imagination had become intermingled with factual accounts.
It was thus that the term *denki* (“tales of the strange”) came to bear resemblance—both in origin and content—to what were called *romance* novels in Roman-ruled European lands, works recording regional legends.

Already, *Yūsenkutsu* alone had indeed crossed over to the Nara period, and even writings imitating it appear in the *Man'yōshū* (Volume 5); yet one cannot say there were none beyond this. The fact that people from Korea and Japan, upon entering Tang China, invariably visited Zhang Wencheng's residence to request writings and return home (as recorded in the *Tangshu*) does not mean they neglected anecdotal histories documenting legends of Taoist secrets and court intrigues—let alone the decadent Chu Ci-style works of the Song Yu school. Rather, I believe this serves to corroborate that a great many books in that field were indeed imported. Moreover, immigrants have brought living traditions intact. And yet, there is not a single nation in the world that lacks points of agreement in their folk traditions. Between Japan and China as well, astonishing similarities came to be gradually discovered during that period. How exhilarated must the people of the late Asuka and Fujiwara Palace periods have felt when their traditions aligned with those of the advanced nations!