Translate

B03 Yokai (Japanese yokai)

reason in sanctum We respect respective reason as respectable with respectful manner
Yokai (Japanese yokai)
Chapter 1: Reason of Origin 03/07
I’d like to include “yōkai (Japanese yokai)” among the incorporeal beings that, like spirits, dwell in nature. Or rather, unless we provide a strict definition, the terms “spirit” and “yōkai” are generally understood to refer to almost the same thing. Let me explain with an example. For instance, there is a yokai called “Kawa-akago (A Baby In The River).” This phenomenon occurs when a person passes near a marsh or pond and hears the cry of a baby. Thinking that a baby might be drowning, the person heads in the direction of the sound to help, only to hear the baby’s cry coming from a different direction. They search high and low but ultimately find nothing.

*Shigeru Mizuki’s Yokai Library (1)* includes an illustration by Shigeru Mizuki alongside the description of this “Kawa-akago” (Author’s note: Although the original text contained an illustration, we have refrained from publishing it online due to copyright concerns). Some readers who have read the text and seen the illustration might think, “There’s no way there’s a baby in the river. This must just be a case of mistaking the croaking of a frog or something for a baby’s cry. There’s no such thing as a ‘A Baby In The River.’” In a sense, this person is right, and in another sense, they are wrong. What I mean is this: it is certainly true, at least as a matter of common sense, that there can’t possibly be a baby in a river, and it is highly likely that the sound of a baby crying was simply a case of mistaking a frog’s croak. However, the term “Kawa-akago” is, after all, simply the name given to the “phenomenon” where a cry resembling that of a baby is heard in a river, yet no one is found there no matter how thoroughly one searches—much like how a warm, sunny day around October is called “Koharu-biyori” in Japanese. “Kawa-akago (A Baby In The River)” is by no means a name given to a baby living in the river. Therefore, saying “Kawa-akago doesn’t exist” is almost the same as saying, “Isn’t ‘Koharu-biyori’ just a term for pleasant autumn weather? You might as well just call it a sunny autumn day.” In other words, it’s ridiculous. As long as there is a phenomenon where a sound resembling a baby’s cry is heard near a river, “Kawa-akago” will continue to exist.

It is precisely those who take Shigeru Mizuki’s illustrations at face value and use them as a basis for making all sorts of high-and-mighty complaints who are being misled by the “yōkai” appearance of the “Kawa-akago” that Mizuki depicted in his illustrations. In fact, yōkai—like spirits and souls—are a matter of human perception. Therefore, Mr. Mizuki’s illustrations of “Kawa-akago” are, after all, merely the images that emerged when he perceived the phenomenon of “Kawa-akago” according to his own sensibilities; the true nature of “Kawa-akago” need not correspond to Mr. Mizuki’s illustrations, and it is even doubtful whether the phenomenon of “Kawa-akago” has any substance at all. In *Ōgon Jidai (The Golden Age)* (Kawade Bunko, 1986), Tatsuhiko Shibusawa defines a yokai as “a creature created solely by the workings of human imagination, taking the form of a single image, for which no counterpart can be found in nature.” I agree with this definition. Therefore, it can be said that yokai—or spirits—are not entities to which existence should be ascribed through the natural sciences, but rather entities to which existence is ascribed through the humanities.

Now, when an object of reverence takes on a tangible form, it acquires a powerful presence. Furthermore, it comes to be regarded as an indispensable reality that is closely intertwined with daily life or grounded in cultural traditions. The concept of spirits then evolves further: they are no longer merely symbols of the attributes of individual natural phenomena, but come to be worshipped as entities that exercise their own will to shape the world—that is, as the will that drives this ever-changing world moment by moment. This is the “spirit” of animism. Incidentally, while the term “kami (god)” is often used in animism, this does not mean that the God of universal religions (such as Christianity) dwells within various natural objects. The “kami” (i.e., spirits or god) of animism are, strictly speaking, transformations of human emotions and are entirely different in nature from the God of universal religions, who created the heavens and the earth and governs all things in this world.