If we are going to talk about Japan, then we must know a little of where the Japanese have historically believed Japan “came from”, its origin myth(s). But first, a quick note:
When a Japanese syllable-vowel is long, it is custom to mark it with a “u” in the Roman alphabet, thus yo (short) becomes “you” (a long yo sound): a word like youkai is spelled “youkai” and pronounced “yohhhkai”, not “you – kai”.
Japanese mythology is very interesting in the sense that it is sort of based on particle physics: the Universe began in its own primordial soup, a silent and shapeless mass of matter. Then particles within it began to move, which made sound. Light — as well as the lightest, fastest particles — rose within this chaotic primordial mass, with Light rising the “highest” (meaning it was the top “level” of the Universe) while underneath the particles formed clouds and Heaven (Takamagahara: The Heavenly Field/Plains). The heavier, slower particles formed Earth
With the formation of Takamagahara came the sudden appearance of the first five gods of Japanese mythology. When they all came into existence they “hid their bodies,” meaning they made themselves hidden and never appeared again. They also did not have gender and/or oppositely gendered dyads (male-female). Then some more gods came along in the same manner, eventually leading to Izanagi and his sister-wife Izanami, the gods who created the Japanese islands (by stirring up the water-y part of the primordial chaos with a jeweled spear), and birthed the Sun Goddess Amaterasu o-Mikami… to which I have a personal connection.
When I first arrived in Japan I sought opportunities to study traditional forms of music, as part of my quest to expand my cultural knowledge and abilities as a composer. A fellow teacher suggested I look into the Shinto/Imperial Court music (gagaku) orchestra at Ikuta Jinja (Jinja = “Shinto Shrine”) in Kobe, and she offered to vouch for me before an official meeting was arranged (as in Japan you don’t just meet people in situations like this; foreigners have to to be pre-introduced and vouched for). So after being vouched for and meeting the head priest, he eventually sent word back that he was not into the whole idea and denied my request.
A couple of weeks later I receive another word back saying that the priest had been consulting Amaterasu (Ikuta is considered to be her winter residence) about something and she herself told him through revelation that she was OK with me studying gagaku; that I would be a good ambassador for it, if not a decent performer of my chosen instrument (a small, nasal oboe-like instrument called a hichiriki). So the Sun Goddess herself gave me the green light, and I became a member of the Ikuta Jinja Gagaku Orchestra, one of only three official such orchestras in Japan, the other two being at the Imperial Court and Ise Jingu, Amaterasu’s main residence. By the way, it is often written that a divine child of Amaterasu (Wakahirume) is enshrined at Ikuta, while the locals believe it is Amaterasu herself under a different name.
In the Spring Japanese folks have a custom (mamemaki) of tossing beans at their front door or around the house while saying, “Oni wa soto, fuku wa uchi! “Demons out, Happiness in!”. Buddhist and/or Shinto priests often throw out packs of specially blessed beans (fukumame: “fortune beans”) to eager temple or shrine crowds at this time, so the people can super-charge their luck that year. Some older Osakans eat special uncut sushi rolls while facing in a lucky direction, but that is not the usual method. Note: though it is a Shinto custom, mamemaki has roots in ancient Chinese folk religion, and Japan began this custom as late as 700 A.D.
Speaking of beans and demons Japan has a colorful history of spirits and ghosts. Since the original religion of Japan (Shintoism) states that there are 8 million gods (spirits of varying importance) wandering around Japan, Japanese people consider themselves bound to encounter them in a variety of forms. These spirits are known as youkai. These spirits are described as coming in a very colorful variety of forms, revealing the highly creative nature of Japanese religious and folk narratives. If you were walking or asleep at dusk, then you might fall prey to a kamikiri-ma, a haircutting demon who snips your ponytail away. Another popular explanation was a “demon wind from a foreign land” has blown in and done such a deed. Ever been walking through a dark, lonely forest near a Shinto shrine? Then watch out for the “sand-sprinkling granny” (sunakake-baba), a grumpy old lady who throws sand at you if you’re not minding your business. Ever have an echo answer you when you yell out into a canyon? That is a mischievous “spirit of mountain reverberation” (yamabiko), a monkey-like demon who hangs around messing with hikers. Ever hear your cutlery running around at night? Then your house is infested with tsukumogami, antique household objects that come to life after 100 years (forks, spoons, musical instruments, etc.).
This is a very, very tiny intro to Japanese mythology, but it will give you a taste of the grand narrative of the story of Japan, from the archipelago’s ascent out of the primordial chaos to the latest bullet train racing across the main island Honshu.
So to summarize: Japanese culture begins with the most basic cultural phenomenon, Japanese language, and how the ideas of culture are shared between individuals and/or promulgated in society. To speak Japanese is to already be in culture and coloured by its inherent traits. Part of that culture-speak is the mythology of the nation’s origin, and its relationship with the spirit world.
Daniel Schnee 