I feel bad not having updated this blog since I started it, but I won’t arrive in Japan until this Sunday. Once I get there, there will be a whole new prefecture to explore, festivals to attend, and food to learn how to cook. As a foreign worker, I’ll also be mired in bureaucratic immigration processes.
Until that time, I’d like to share my translation of one of my favorite Japanese scary stories. The original Japanese text is here. “Miminashi Houichi,” or “No-Ears Houichi” is a 昔話 (mukashi banashi), or a folktale. It also appears in Lafcadio Hearn’s collection of Japanese ghost stories Kwaidan.
The Tale of “No-Ears” Houichi
Once upon a time, there was a temple called Amidaji in Yamaguchi prefecture, when it was still called Shimonoseki, and, at the time, there lived a biwa* player named Houichi.
Because Houichi had been blind from a young age, he had been taught to play the biwa and recite, and while he was still a young man, his skill at playing the instrument had surpassed that of his teacher, the priest.
The priest of Amidaji, recognizing Houichi’s talent, retired to the temple.
Houichi’s speciality was his telling of The Tale of Kenpei, especially the passage about the Battle of Dannoura, the final battle of the Heike-Genji Wars, and it is said that his way of telling it left no one with a dry eye.
Back then, when the final battle in the long dispute between Genji and Heike occurred, the household of the defeated Heike—right down to the women and children and the child-emperor known as Emperor Antoku—the entire lot of them was sunk to the bottom of the sea.
The recitation of the sad final battle of the Heike was the passage about the Battle of Dannoura.
This tale takes place one humid summer’s night.
Because the priest had gone out to perform a memorial service, Houichi sat alone in the temple, absorbed in practicing the biwa.
Sawa sawa. The grass in the garden swayed and rustled like waves; the sound stopped in front of Houichi, who sat on the veranda.
Then came a voice: “Houichi! Houichi!”
“Y-yes, my lord? Please, who is there? I cannot see you; I am blind,” he said.
The voice replied, “I am the messenger of a certain person of high social standing who lives near here. It is my lord’s wish that you play the biwa for him at his mansion.”
“Huh? Play my biwa—?”
“That’s right. I will lead you toward the mansion, so please follow behind me.”
Houichi, upon hearing that a person of social standing wanted to hear him play the biwa, was thoroughly pleased with himself, and so he followed the messenger.
Whenever the messenger took a step, Houichi heard the kasha kasha sound of armor, and he knew the messenger was a warrior.
They passed through a gate, and when they entered the expansive gardens, they had also entered a large mansion.
This was at the banquet hall, where a crowd of people seemed to have gathered: he heard murmuring voices and the rustling of clothes and the sounds of armor.
One female courtier spoke to him.
“Houichi, please play your biwa and recite The Tale of Heike without delay.”
“Yes, my lady. Because it is such a long story, at which passage would my ladyship like me to begin?”
She paused. “From ‘The Battle of Dannoura.’”
“Very well, my lady.”
Houichi plucked the biwa and began.
The sound of the biwa’s ro string.**
Waves beating down upon and smashing a ship.
The zing of arrows.
The roar of the soldiers’ voices.
The warrior’s breath cut off as they fell into the water.
Those were the things he recited, quietly, as he continued the tragic tale.
At once, the banquet hall became the battlefield of Dannoura, or very much like it.
Before long, he reached the sad final passage of Heike’s defeat, and when he did, from here and there in the hall there were heaving sobs. The instant Houichi’s biwa finished, the sobbing stopped, and a deathly silence fell upon the hall.
Before long, the courtier from before spoke.
“Our lord is very pleased. He honors you with his gratitude. Be that as it may, he asks that you return every night for the next six days. Tomorrow night, you will be brought to this mansion again. After that, you may return to the temple, but do not tell anyone about it.”
“Yes, my lady.”
The following day, Houichi met the warrior and returned to the mansion.
He played the biwa and returned to the temple in the same way as he had yesterday; however, this time, the priest saw him return.
“Houichi, what have you been doing here until now?”
Houichi did not reply.
“Houichi—“
But Houichi still said nothing.
Even though the priest asked many times, Houichi kept his promise and told no one what had happened.
When Houichi said nothing, the priest thought that whatever Houichi was hiding must be profound.
If Houichi went out, it appeared to the temple’s handymen like he was tagging along with someone.
By then, night had fallen.
Rain furiously pounded the temple roof.
And yet, Houichi was leaving the temple.
The handymen quietly chased after Houichi.
Houichi was supposed to be blind, and yet his legs moved quickly; they became unable to see him, as if he had been erased by the darkness.
“Where’d he go?” wondered the handymen, looking here and there, entered the graveyard.
A flash of lightning lit up the sky, and the rain-soaked gravestones rose to the surface.
“There! There he is!”
The handymen were petrified with surprise.
Soaking wet with rain, Houichi was playing his biwa over Emperor Antoku’s grave.
In a circle around Houichi were countless will-o’-the-wisps.
The handymen saw that Houichi must be possessed by ghosts, and ran with all their might back to the temple.
Hearing about this incident, the priest performed a charm to protect Houichi from the ghosts.
This charm was actually sutras written on Houichi’s body.
“Houichi, your extraordinary skill seems to have called the ghosts to you. It’s Heike’s household, choking back angry tears and sinking to the bottom of the sea! Listen carefully. Tonight, if anyone calls to you, do not answer! The ghosts will take the life of a person who follows them. Sit firmly in meditation and don’t move. If you reply and call out, this time, they will kill you. Understand?” said the priest, and he left for a vigil in the village.
Then, as Houichi sat in meditation [zazen], the ghost’s voice always seemed to be calling him.
“Houichi, Houichi, you didn’t come back!”
But Houichi did not say anything.
The ghost entered the temple.
“Hmm. There’s a biwa sitting there, but no one’s playing it.”
Looking around, the ghost saw two ears floating in the air.
“I see, this is the priest’s trickery! I am clever, but my hands cannot reach him. It can’t be helped; at least I’ll take his ears as proof I tried to take Houichi back with me.”
The ghost seized Houichi’s ears with his cold hands, and
Pari!
He ripped off the ears and returned with them.
At the time, Houichi was deep in meditation.
When the priest returned, he saw Houichi’s appearance and rushed into the room.
“Houichi! You’re safe!”
Deep in meditation sat Houichi, who remained motionless—but both ears were gone, and blood flowed from the place the ears used to be.
“Y-you—your ears—“
Everything became clear to the priest.
“So that’s what happened? When I wrote the sutras, I didn’t notice your ears. How pitiable that this happened! Well, I’ll call a good doctor to treat the wounds.”
Both of Houichi’s ears had been taken, and after that, the spirits no longer followed him. Thanks to the doctor, the wounds healed.
Before long, this story passed around by word of mouth, and Houichi became increasing famous for playing the biwa.
Before he knew it, Houichi was no longer called “Biwa-Priest Houichi” but “No-Ears Houichi” and became so famous that there wasn’t a person who didn’t know him by that name.
The End.
*Biwa – a Japanese stringed instrument
** The strings are named like the keys/strings of Western European instruments.
[…] week, I got a chance to see the opera of 耳なし芳一 (Mimi Nashi Houichi). One of my first posts on this blog was a translation of the story, which originally appeared in print in Lafcadio […]
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