Karl Friday's The First Samurai: The life and legend of the warrior rebel Taira Masakado

You know, I've always heard the phrase 'never judge a book by its cover', but until recently I've paid it little heed. Thus, when I saw the cover of Karl Friday's book on Amazon I kept putting it off. After all, what meat could there be in a book with bright, flashing colors on the front and a confusing, anachronistic woodblock print shown in relief? In short, it looked like just another of the myriad populist books on Japanese history, designed to get readers to plunk down money just so the author can rehash old material and convey the same vague generalities about samurai warfare. It seemed to be playing off of the success in the English speaking world of the Tom Cruise "you, too, can live out your doomed romantic warrior fantasies" movie, and pandering to the sammyrai fanatics.

On the other hand, it is Karl Friday, who brought us Legacies of the Sword, Hired Swords: The Rise of Private Warrior Power in Early Japan, and other notable works, so it was on my list.

Now I'm kicking myself that I didn't get this book sooner. The information on not only Taira Masakado, but on the life in Japan during the 10th century and other famous figures of the time, is absolutely wonderful. Not only that, but it presents the facts in a way that is easy and enjoyable to read. I would easily compare it to other recent biographies, such as David McCullough's "John Adams", which open to the reader not just a dry tome of the dust from a person's passing, but the rich texture of life in their day and age.

Taira Masakado is a figure that is famous in Japan, but his name has hardly made a splash in the English speaking world until this book, which will likely, as Thomas D. Conlan lauds, "remain the definitive study of the legendary warrior and his age for years to come." Friday begins by introducing his audience to the Masakado story as it is known in Japan--his rebellion, beheading, and the subsequent legends of that same vital appendage flying about Japan and causing havoc even as late as the mid 20th century. He illuminates for the reader the common conception of Masakado as the first warrior of the early medieval period to rise up in rebellion and challenge the imperial authority.

However, just has he has laid out the groundwork for you, Friday turns the whole thing on its head. He lays out a cogent argument for Masakado as a victim of circumstances and poor judgment, rather than a committed rebel. Masakado comes off as a an able warrior and administrator who was invested in the imperial system and likely had no real intention of setting up anything else, but he was driven into a position where he felt he had no other choice. In fact, the reader comes away with the feeling that Masakado's entire reputation is quite overblown by later historians, and yet the story of his life is no less enlightening about the times he lived in. In fact, it is because he was an exemplar of his times and not an outlier that a study of his life is of such import.

While examining the actions and motives of Masakado, Friday also examines the lifestyles of the provincial warriors during the Heian period and the combination of centripetal and centrifugal forces that kept court and countryside in balance. He reveals for the reader the economic politics of the often hastily assembled warbands, whose ties to their nominal general were often tenuous at best.

He also dispels the later veneer of romance that later authors were prone to place on samurai warfare, putting pragmatism in its proper historical place. For example, he describes not only the lauds given for men skilled at ambush tactics, but the reasons why they were so necessary in this age of the horse and bow.

His research is neatly referenced, with both in-page footnotes and 26 pages of footnotes at the end of the book. His bibliography is divided into Primary and Secondary sources, and the work contains a helpful index for looking up specific topics.

Admittedly, the swirl of "Taira", "Fujiwara", and "Minamoto" surnames can often make following the complex familial relationships of the time difficult for the uninitiated, but Friday uses that confusion to highlight the all too real social complexity of Heian period Japan.

In conclusion, I cannot recommend this book highly enough. Anyone interested in the history of the samurai and the rise of the warrior class should have a grounding in the provincial warriors of the Heian period, who were adapting the previous ritsuryo military guidelines to the new era of private bands of horsed archers, and this book, by highlighting one such individual, brings that transition sharply into focus.

If you liked this review, and want to have a look for yourself, then why not buy The First Samurai at the SA Amazon Bookstore!

Samurai Archives Interview With Historian Thomas D. Conlan

Dr. Thomas Conlan is an Associate Professor of History and Asian Studies at Bowdoin College. He received a BA in History and Japanese at the University of Michigan in 1986, a PhD in History from Stanford in 1998, and attended Kyoto University from 1995 to 1997 on a PhD Program. Dr. Conlan has written the groundbreaking books "In Little Need of Divine Intervention", "State of War", and "Weapons & Fighting Techniques of the Samurai Warrior AD 1200-1877". In addition, he has written articles on Japanese history (as well as done book reviews) for many notable works as the Harvard Journal Of Asiatic Studies, Monumenta Nipponica, and The Origins of Japan's Medieval World. He's also appeared as a guest expert on History Channel specials involving samurai, as well as helping put together acclaimed websites featuring in-depth examinations of two important Japanese documents/works of art-the Mongol Invasion Scrolls and the Heiji Disturbance scroll. Dr. Conlan was kind enough to take time from his busy schedule to speak to the Samurai Archives, and we think you'll find what he has to say to be as thought provoking as his books.


Thanks to forum members Dash and JLBadgley for submitting questions, and Obenjo, Kitsuno, and Ashigaru for their input.


SA: Where did your interest in Japanese history first begin, and why is it that you've chosen to dedicate your career to this pursuit? What period are you most personally fond of, and why?


TC: I first remember reading a book about the samurai when I was in junior high school (one of Turnbull's books). That first got me interested in Japan, and while I was attending Harvard Summer School, I decided to devote my life to studying Japan. Sounds corny, but it is true. As a sign of my promise, I used all of the money I had saved that summer to buy an ivory netsuke of a man carrying a monkey in a sack. (I still have that netsuke).


I feel fortunate that I have been able to learn under so many great professors at the University of Michigan and Stanford, for they have helped me along this career. I don't have a good reason for why I have dedicated my career to this save that I continue to find Japanese history interesting. I love the fourteenth century, for the sources are unparalleled, and there is a refreshing honesty to the documents. The precision of the documents also amazes me. When I first read a battle report describing wounds, and saw notations by a battle administrator describing them as "deep" and "shallow." I knew that through such records, I could reconstruct how men were wounded, and thereupon understand how wars were fought in the fourteenth century. It was a September day in 1992 that I knew that I would write about the wars of the fourteenth century for my Ph.D. dissertation (this became State of War).


SA: “In Little Need of Divine Intervention” was your first book and brought new insights to the Mongol Invasions of 1274 and 1281, using the reward petition scrolls (Moko Shurai Ekotoba, commonly known as the ‘Mongol Invasion Scrolls’) of Takezaki Suenaga as its focus. This was fascinating both for its examination of what the scrolls tell us about the invasions as well as the history, changes, and variant copies made of the scrolls themselves. How was the central point of the book (that the ‘kamikaze’ was only the exclamation point on a set of failed invasions rather than the major cause of them) received both in the west and Japan? Did the lack of access to the original scrolls (held by the Imperial Household Agency) cause any difficulties in your research?


TC: I often think of In Little Need as my second book, as I wrote it after I had completed State of War. It came out of my classes at Bowdoin, for as I was teaching a freshman seminar at Bowdoin on the "Wars of the Samurai" in the fall of 1998. I was amazed that the Suenaga account had not been translated, so I set about doing it.


I was able to view many of the copies of the scrolls while in Japan (2000), and also visit Suenaga's lands and the walls where the Japanese defeated the Mongols in Northern Kyushu. I also had the opportunity to view the important scenes of the original, which is held by the Imperial Household Agency, during a museum exhibit. At that time, I saw two scenes from the originals--1) where Suenaga is being shot off his horse, with the exploding 'teppo' nearby, and 2) where Suenaga, with his ersatz shin-guard helmet falling off his head, is decapitating an enemy sailor. And such excellent photographs exist of the originals from recent exhibits that it is possible to view the scrolls pretty well.


I have been happy with the reception that my book has received. Japanese archaeologists at Takashima, who are excavating the remains of the Mongol fleet, had agreed with my assertion that the Mongol fleet was of a relatively small size; and also my revision of the invasions have influenced the narratives of books in fields outside of the discipline of history. Richard Bowring's The Religious Traditions of Japan (Cambridge 2005), for example, accepts my characterization of the invasions, which is gratifying. Reflecting on the reception, I was surprised that the sources pertaining to the invasions have not been more rigorously analyzed, or that these scrolls were not translated earlier.


SA: In conjunction with the book, a website was put together that allowed viewers to browse and compare side-by-side the different versions of the scrolls, noting the changes and additions made to each version along with other features of note. Later, a similar website was created for the Heiji Disturbance Scroll (chronicling the Heiji No Ran of 1159). This gave readers the chance to see rather than just read about the important features of these documents/works of art, and is a fine example of how the rapidly developing electronic technology field has aided the study of history. Do you believe that the computer age and the attendant ease of procuring copies of source documents has been one of the major driving factors behind the excellent work, new theories, and other advancements in Japanese history made in the last ten years?


TC: I do not know if changes in scholarship were caused by the new technology, but certainly this new technology enables some obscure sources to be better appreciated. We remain in the early stages of appreciating all that can be done on the web.

I believe that the web allows for scrolls and other sources that are not reproduced in a book format to be viewed in a manner approximating the experience of seeing the original. The Mongol scrolls website grew out of a need to scan images for publication in In Little Need of Divine Intervention. It was Peter Schilling, of Bowdoin, who first suggested that we build a site to see the scrolls. It took us several years to do, but fortunately, technology improved, and computers could handle larger images more easily. The Heiji scrolls represent our latest reproduction of the scrolls. I graciously received digital images from the MFA and Kevin Travers designed this excellent site.

SA: “State Of War” centered around the warriors of the 14th century (notable for the destruction of the Hojo regents/Kamakura Bakufu, the Kenmu Restoration, and the subsequent Nanbokucho wars) and how they conducted the art of war. Period accounts and war tales (‘monogatari’) are used to build a model of battle that seemed to be mostly skirmishes where the majority of injuries (around 75%) were received from projectiles (the majority of these being arrows in this time frame). Massed cavalry charges or dense infantry formations were rarely seen. Given the unreliability of many accounts, letters, quasi-official documents like the Azuma Kagami, and monogatari (ranging from ridiculously high estimates of troop strengths to the discounting of the role of lower status warriors), how difficult was it to separate fact from fiction to arrive at a workable model?


TC: It is best to use documents, literary sources, geography and archaeology in tandem to get a sense of a past age. Literary sources can be very illuminating. They just must be used with care and treated with skepticism.I find that literary sources are most useful in their details as to how certain weapons are used, and least useful in their characterizations of specific individuals (who can be easily idealized or demonized), or, for that matter, for their estimates of the size of armies. . People are very poor at estimating the size of large groups. Most accounts overestimate the size of armies by a factor of at least 10. Chronicles such as the Taiheiki use numbers as metaphors and there is no clear consistency. At the same time, a careful read can prove illuminating. Accounts of the Jokyu War provide fantastically large estimates of troops (over 180,000) but at times, refer (more accurately) to armies consisting of hundreds or 1,800 men, which strikes me as plausible.


A fictional account can be used as a historical source. A novel for example, could provide insight into what it was like to ride a bus for someone who knew nothing about them; the same can be the case for details about weapons usage in medieval texts. Exploration of textual variants can prove insightful. I have discovered a roster of the names of the Kamakura warriors who were wounded, killed, or who captured or killed enemies in 1221. This roster (which has not been translated) proves very insightful, and could very well be a copy of an actual list provided to Kamakura after the 1221 conflict. So it is important when studying an age to be aware of all sources; the more primary documents one reads, the better it is to deeply understand an age.


SA: One of the more interesting sections of “State Of War” is the chapter “Sacred War”, which among other things examines the influence of Buddhism, Shinto, and superstition on the warriors of the 14th century (both in a military and political sense). Was the financial, military, and administrative support given by gokenin and samurai to temples and shrines (and vice versa) born out of true belief, or was it largely political expediency?


TC: I am glad that this chapter is of interest. It is one of my favorite ones in the book, and has become the basis for my next monograph.

We cannot know the actual motives of anyone, but all actions seem to suggest that warriors and courtiers believed that various prayers and maledictions determined victory in military endeavors. My most recent research explores how Shingon priests proved to be the most politically powerful men of the fourteenth century. They were responsible for the fighting to continue, and they first enforced the notion that warriors should be loyal to their 'lord'.


SA: Your newest book, “Weapons & Fighting Techniques of the Samurai Warrior 1200-1877” is a lavishly illustrated volume that seems to be aimed at a general readership. How was the experience of writing this book different from your first two?


TC: The short deadlines differed greatly from my previous research, where I could pretty much work at my pace. I received much help in securing permission for photos, and also was able to work with a team of illustrators, so the book came out quite quickly, and not several years as I was used to. I found it hardest to not be able to include footnotes. I compensated wherever possible by mentioning the name of the sources that I used in the narrative. I think it is important to provide information that can be verfied. I included all my sources in the bibliography, but I would prefer having footnotes.


SA: The new book also does to the battle of Nagashino what ‘Divine Intervention’ did to the Mongol Invasions-reappraising the course of the battle using not only primary documentation but also period painted screens, recent excavations, and a survey of the battlefield terrain. What led you to discount the embellished Edo period accounts of the battle and present such a dramatically changed version? Did you find the extremely small number (nine to date) of bullets recovered from the site of the battlefield surprising?


TC: In 2005, I had the opportunity to walk the Nagashino battlefield and in doing so, and seeing where bullets had been discovered, I realized that common characterizations of the battle were wrong.


As a result of this visit, I explored sources about the battle, which have conveniently been published in a volume of the Aichi kenshi (prefectural history of Aichi). This compendium of sources contains all surviving accounts and documents pertaining to the battle, and also reproduces the oldest surviving screens depicting the battles (unfortunately I could not get an image of this reproduced in "Weapons and Fighting Techniques.") My Nagashino narrative represents my first foray into reconstructing this battle; I may do a more extended account in the future.


I find it best to treat Edo accounts and narratives with skepticism, because they tended to be ahistorial thinkers who projected the ideals and assumptions of their age onto a very different Japanese past.


Takeda Katsuyori was not so stupid as he appears in the film Kagemusha. He attempted to encircle the Tokugawa forces opposing him and was tricked into doing so by a Tokugawa commander opposing him. Trickery accounted for the decisive nature of the encounter more than guns per se.


The small number of bullets does not surprise me, as this area was intensively tilled in the Tokugawa era, and the bullets, if discovered by peasants, were probably melted down for their metal. In addition, I believe the number of gunners was less than has commonly assumed--perhaps only 1000 or so.


SA: Much of what is accepted as truth regarding pre-modern Japanese battles (both in English and in popular Japanese publications such as Rekishi Gunzou) comes from the histories of these events written in the 1890’s by the Japanese General Staff ("Nihon Senshi"). These works were written with the agenda of giving Japan an impressive documented military history to present to western eyes. Recent evidence indicates that battles promoted in these histories as major events were in fact rather minor actions. Using Tedorigawa (1577) as an example, it is written up as a major set piece battle involving tens of thousands of troops. However, the scant real evidence on it shows a minor rear guard action involving a small skirmish between a thousand or so troops. With this in mind, how reliable should these volumes (and many other earlier Edo period histories) be considered?


TC: I do not consider them to be very reliable. Far better to critically analyze surviving primary sources. OK to read these sources and use them as a guide to surviving sources, but best not to let them cloud your understanding of the past.


SA: One of the common threads running through your works is stripping the veneer from samurai warfare. Rather than being shining paragons of honorable behavior, samurai are shown (in their own documents and words) to be rather self serving and ruthless. Running from battle, abandoning comrades, switching sides, striking from ambush, setting fires, and looting are the norms rather than the exceptions. Bushido was an idealized version of samurai behavior that as you have pointed out was largely a fallacy and surely not followed as a general ‘code of conduct’ throughout Japanese history. While this question might be more appropriate for a behavioral psychologist, why do you believe the concept of ‘bushido’ exerts such a strong pull on so many self-styled ‘Modern Samurai’? Why in particular bushido, when other outdated warrior codes from other cultures have been left behind in the pages of history?


TC: I characterize what I do as essentially humanizing the samurai and showing that they could be brave, cowardly, or self-serving. One sees the whole range of behavior in their actions. War was in a strange sort of way a very human event and those who fought and survived had to maintain a healthy dose of pragmatism.


Bushido represents an ideal--a remarkable cultural formulation--that is very much alive today. The reason for this stems not from Tokugawa thinkers, who tried to formulate a justification for warriors to exist in a time of peace, but the work of Nitobe Inazo. Nitobe defined Bushido in such as way as to make it understandable in European/American context. Thanks to Nitobe, Bushido became a component of Western cultural consciousness. Bushido represents a moral code not tied to any religion--Chivalry without Christianity-- which accounts for its appeal, I believe.


SA: What are the biggest challenges you face in producing something? Is it the research, the writing, or the actual act of publishing?


TC: Finding the time to research, write and revise a project.


SA: Many acquire an interest in Japanese history through the avenues of anime, manga, martial arts, video games, and Japanese films. Do you see such sources of ‘pop culture’ history as an opportunity to foster a serious interest in Japanese studies, or a hurdle to be overcome?


TC: By all means, they are a good avenue into study; I think that they represent a good gateway into more serious study. If you intend to engage in serious study, then learn Japanese.


SA: What advice do you have for students of Japanese history? For those who wish to pursue a career in the field, what universities would you recommend?


TC: It is important to come from the universities with the best reputation--Princeton, Stanford, Harvard, Berkeley, University of Michigan, Columbia. Many institutions are strong in modern Japanese history, but for premodern instruction, there are fewer specialists. Joan Piggott at USC, Hitomi Tonomura at Michigan, and Andrew Goble at Oregon are great scholars taking on graduate students.


SA: Whose work among the current crop of historians impresses you the most? What other books would you recommend to our board members, either in English or Japanese?


TC: I could write a long list but for historians that come to mind right now, I like Dani Botsman's work on crime and punishment in Tokugawa Japan, the writings of Karen Wigen of Stanford, Mark Ravina's work on Saigo Takamori and local lordship in Tokugawa Japan, and Karl Friday's recent work on Taira Masakado.


SA: Your faculty listing on Bowdoin University’s website lists several articles and projects you are currently working on. What other works might you have in progress you can tell us about?


TC: In addition to those articles, I have completed an account of Medieval Japanese Warfare, 1200-1550, which will be published in the Cambridge History of War, a new multivolume series that I think readers of the forum will be interested in. This will not come out for a few years. I also continue working on my next monograph, about the political importance of Shingon, and how Shingon Buddhists of the fourteenth century were able to create emperors and the symbols of office, and enforce the notion of loyalty to a lord. I am polishing my manuscript, called From Sovereign to Symbol: Regalia, Ritual and the Struggle for Secrecy in Fourteenth Century Japan.


SA: We'll be looking forward to those! Thank you, Dr. Conlan, for an informative and entertaining interview-it's been a pleasure.

Turnbull’s ‘The Samurai Swordsman: Master of War’

We at the SA just received the newest offering from the prolific Stephen Turnbull-“The Samurai Swordsman: Master of War”. As we speculated in a post a few months ago, the book is an expansion of his previous work, the long out-of-print “The Lone Samurai and the Martial Arts” (as he details in the introduction). You’ll also see it listed on different Amazon sites under its earlier proposed titles of “Art of the Samurai Swordsman” with Honda Tadakatsu on the cover, or just plain “Samurai”. It’s not an Osprey book (surprise!), but rather an impressive lengthy hardback (208 pages) published by Frontline Books (and in the US by Tuttle).

‘Samurai Swordsman’ is a coffee table book with an abundance of full color photos, prints, paintings, and portraits (some taking up two pages). Like most of Turnbull’s books, it’s a visual treat. It’s organized by chapter into several interesting themes and the incidents Turnbull lays out make for entertaining reading. There are basic chapters on general eras of Japanese history (ancient, Kamakura, Sengoku, Edo, and the Bakumatsu) along with several that focus on a specific subject (sword schools and styles, swords in society, vendettas and ronin, and female warriors). The evolution of the swordsman and the role of his weapon is traced throughout Japanese history from the early days of the Genpei war (when the bow was the weapon of choice for most samurai) through the Sengoku (where the spear and arquebus ruled the battlefield) into the Edo period, where the romanticized form of the samurai swordsman most westerners are familiar with (and that populate most chanbara films) began to take form. Notable early swordsmen such as Kamiizumi Ise-no-kami Nobutsuna geared their swordplay towards the practical, where it would be used under battlefield conditions. The (relatively) peaceful times under the Tokugawa Shogunate saw the highly stylized and regulated schools of swordplay take shape, resulting in a much more formal approach to swordplay more suited for individual duels. Also examined is how these more peaceful times gave rise to an idealized form of samurai behavior, bushido (which is espoused and followed much more ardently by self styled ‘modern sammyrai’ than it ever was by the real thing).

Turnbull also displays an excellent writing style, giving life and a dramatic flair to the tales of old. The careers of many prominent swordsmen are brought to life within its pages. From the usual suspects such as Miyamoto Musashi and the Yagyu to the more obscure (but perhaps superior) Chiba Shusaku and Takahashi Deishu, Turnbull gives both the historical reality and glorified legends that have sprung up around these figures. Turnbull’s strength lies in his descriptions and accounts of these old legends (along with the many illustrations and photos pertaining to these events, most from his personal archives), making his book an interesting contrast and companion to other recent works such as Thomas Conlan’s ‘Weapons & Fighting Techniques of the Samurai Warrior 1200-1877 AD’. Whereas Conlan meticulously deconstructs the traditional accounts (many of which are based on Edo period sources written decades after the fact) to show what is perhaps the kernel of truth that lies at their center, Turnbull gives the richness and impact of the stories that defined the glory days of the samurai. They’re interesting treatments of the same subject-the reality versus the ‘public face’ that helped shape the culture of Japan. In effect, they’re different facets of the same gem. Hence, we get the legends of female warrior Tomoe Gozen, the story of Akechi Mitsuhide’s mother being put to death in a botched hostage negotiation, and Asano Naganori (whose inept assault on Kira Yoshinaka in Edo Castle gave rise to the 47 Ronin incident) being called an ‘upstanding’ ‘well respected and experienced samurai’-all of which recent evidence suggests are false, but that have become widely accepted as fact both in Japan and the west.

The book does have a few editing problems (as virtually all texts dealing with history do). There are a few mismatched dates, and some photos appear to be mislabeled (such as a print on pages 182-183 dealing with the Satsuma Rebellion of 1877 that implies the infamous Shinsengumi were present-a rather difficult feat since they hadn’t been around for several years by then). Turnbull’s bibliography is outstanding (with both English and Japanese language sources from academia and general surveys), and will give readers several excellent avenues to pursue further study.

Following Turnbull’s career has been an interesting exercise. From his first book in the late 70’s (The Samurai: A Military History, still my favorite Turnbull effort) through his latest effort 30 years later, he has done more to make pre-modern Japanese history accessible to most westerners than any other author. He’s never been afraid to alter his viewpoints or opinions when new evidence is uncovered (as perhaps best shown in his changing evaluations of the battle of Kawanakajima over the years). As the internet and advanced telecommunications have made certain works much easier to gain access to, his sources have become more varied and of better quality. Turnbull’s research habits and sources have become more involved, detailed, and diversified as well. He has produced some truly excellent and original works the past few years (with ‘Kakure Kirishitan of Japan’ on top, along with ‘Samurai Invasion’ and other short works on east Asian piracy, Kawanakajima, the Osaka Campaigns, and Japanese fortifications). His newest, ‘Samurai Swordsman’, would make a great book to give someone as an introduction to pre-modern Japanese history. It’s available directly from Frontline here. Our friends in Europe can also find it at Amazon UK and in the US from Amazon.

Questions from the Audience - Sylvain Jolivalt

Here are the results of our question and answer session with Sylvain Jolivault, author of Esprits et créatures fabuleuses du Japon: Rencontre à l'heure du bouef. Enjoy!


Sylvain, who is your favourite Japanese artist, and would you say your work is influenced by any one in particular?

SJ: I'm fond of many ukiyo-e artists such as Hokusai or Hiroshige. I also very much like Toriyama Sekien’s works about yōkai. But I think my favorite one is Utagawa Kuniyoshi, among others for his depicting characters fighting huge monsters in a kind of super heroic style !
As far as modern mangaka are concerned, I like Akira's Ōtomo Katsuhiro, and, of course, Lone Wolf and Cub's Kojima Gōseki.

I've read Pierre Souyri’s book, translated into English as The World Turned Upside Down, which gives a very vivid portrait of medieval society in Japan. What else has he written - I guess he was great to study with.

SJ: We (me and my wife) much liked to attend his lessons. Unfortunately, that very year, I had to do my military service in the same time, so I couldn't attend all of them. His teaching is very lively. He is a very concerned and passionated teacher. His usual field is the study of Japanese society. I haven't read any other book he has written, except Histoire du Japon, which he wrote with several other authors and was edited by Francine Hérail.
(Here is Pierre Souyri's bibliography)

What medium did you use to create your pictures (water color, oil paints, ink) and are they computer enhanced?

SJ: I usually draw it first with a pencil, then I ink it with a fine felt-tip pen, and erase the pencil. After that, I color it up with watercolor.
I sometimes use my computer to clean up a drawing, erase unwanted stains. The computer is also useful for superimposing different drawings. For example, after having drawn a nice character, I may not want to waste it with a messed up background. So I can separate it and use it in different ways.
.
As far as the kyūbi no kitsune (above) is concerned, it has been drawn this way: with a water-colored setting, and then photoshopped!

Being involved in the haunted attraction industry, I'd be interested to know how you went about putting together your 'oni tetsubo'-materials, processes, sculpting, and molding. I seem to recall it being light (so likely foam) and 'customer safe', making it a possible template for weapons to supply our 'American yōkai' with.

SJ: Indeed, it's a safe weapon I made for LARP. The inner core is a wooden staff. On the handle part, the staff is wrapped in an insulated foam tube. The "hitting part" is made out of a long block of foam sculpted in a split hexagonal cone. The staff is glued to the foam cone up to its half-way point and an hexagonal cap is glued on top of it.
The big rivets are in fact split foam balls (like the ones used for beach tennis balls). The loop at the tip of the handle is made with a ring-shaped baby toy (made out of rather hard plastic, so you'd better not hit opponents with it.
At last the whole of it is coated with a mixing of black acrylic paint and pre-vulcanized latex. I finally added a light silver acrylic-paint dry-brushing on balls and angles.
And here it is!

金棒姫 Kanabô-hime


Of the Japanese ones you've seen, what do you consider the definitive book on yōkai?

SJ: If you want to look at a good collection of yōkai woodblock prints, I can recommend you Toriyama Sekien Gazu Hyakki-yagyô Zengashû 鳥山石燕 画図百鬼夜行全画集 (Collection of a Hundred Ghost Night Parade's Drawings by Toriyama Sekien).



As far as descriptions and explanations are concerned, Nihon Yôkai Hakubutsukan 日本妖怪博物館 (Museum of Japanese Yôkai) , by Kusano Takumi 草野巧 and Tobe Tamio 戸部民夫, is my favorite one. And Shibuya Yûji シブヤユウジ's pencil drawings are really fine.





Thanks to Sylvain and all who participated for the fascinating interview! Stay tuned for further interviews from the Samurai Archives.

Footnotes of History?

Have you ever wondered why there seems to be so little scholarship on the Shinsengumi available in English? One may find it surprising, considering all the attention the Shinsengumi get in imported Japanese “pop” culture in the form of films, anime and manga. To date, the only book I know that is dedicated to the study of the “Wolves of Mibu” is Romulus Hillsborough’s Shinsengumi: The Shogun’s Last Samurai Corps published in 1995. On one hand, I have to tip my cap to Hillsborough for writing this book. At least he had the chutzpah to tackle this controversial historical group, and as a result, he’s been beaten up in internet forums for being unbalanced in his approach to the political factions of that day, overly critical of the Shinsengumi by those who adore them, as well as has been accused of writing a book that lacks a coherent flow and contains too many corny and hackneyed phrases. Yet for all of Hillsborough’s faults, both real, imagined or exaggerated, his work remains the only readily available non-fiction book about the Shinsengumi in English. So again, why aren’t there more? I was recently asked this question by a friend and this triggered a serious round of thinking. The following is based on my response.

I think the reason why there is so little on the Shinsengumi in English is that in terms of the overall story of the Bakumatsu/Restoration, they are relatively minor players and don’t do anything save one incident which dramatically affects the pace of events. That event was of course, the Ikedaya affair where they pretty much saved Kyoto from deliberately getting torched by some Chōshū nut job extremists. Other than that, what else can you say about these thugs and their brutal behavior towards each other and the loyalist extremists they hunted down? Sorry-- I use the word “thugs” to describe the Shinsengumi, but what other word best describes these guys? I’m definitely no lover of the loyalists, but let’s face it—the Bakufu thought the best way to fight the loyalist thugs that were terrorizing the streets of Kyoto would be with their own “deputized” gang of thugs—and they were right! So while the Shinsengumi may have been minor players in the overall big picture, they do loom very large in the Bakumatsu period history of Kyoto. It would be ludicrous to think that the Shinsengumi did not have a direct impact on the events in that city and everyday life there for a handful of tumultuous years. Again, their impact on Kyoto can’t be denied and is probably one of the reasons they are popular to this day in Japan. Stories and incidents that took place in Edo and Kyoto dominated the mass media then, so we are left with a wealth of material about their exploits in the not so distant past. This is evident by the number of books about the Shinsengumi that can be found on Amazon.co.jp or in any decent-sized Japanese bookstore. One look at my bookshelf further backs this up.

Okay, so the Shinsengumi remain a popular topic of scholarship in Japan, but why not in the rest of the world?

I think you can look at the Shinsengumi’s popularity in Japan and compare it to why a sizeable portion of American society may be able tell you a thing or two from the days of the Wild West about the James Gang or the Dalton Gang on the wrong side of the law or the Texas Rangers, Bat Masterson and the Earp brothers and their friends on the “right” side of the law. In a 20th century context, I guess you could make a loose comparison to Elliott Ness’ G-Men acting as a crack unit to take down Al Capone and the other gangsters of Chicago. Neither the outlaws nor their “good” guy counterparts were angels, but they all stick out and are relatively well known. Americans can tell you about these people and some of their exploits because they were exciting points in the long and bland history of how as a people and a country, the US got from there to here. Also, these people, both “good” and “bad”, were products of the times as well as the culture. They weren’t catalysts or show stoppers in a historical context, but just interesting, and because of this, they are remembered and studied. I don’t think too many non-Americans know much about these people, besides what they may have seen in movies or in old TV shows. I’m willing to wager that there probably aren’t too many non-fiction books published in foreign countries about these historical American figures for the same reason it is hard to find histories of Shinsengumi in languages other than Japanese.

Just as many Americans can say that they know the name of Jesse James or Billy the Kid, the same holds true for how Japanese look at the Shinsengumi—whether they are fans or not. Everybody in Japan knows something about the Shinsengumi—even the idiot kids who can’t even tell you the name of the current prime minister! So even though the Shinsengumi are a part of the landscape of Japanese history and culture and are fodder for exciting stories of adventure and dark camaraderie forged in blood, how much interest does a non-Japanese academic or his/her peers have in this topic? I’m not so sure they fully “get it” or find the subject matter all that interesting in the larger scheme of things. If we really think about it, there really aren’t too many books out there in English on the Bakumatsu. I’m already hearing groans from those who already think there are enough books on the Bakumatsu and not enough on the Sengoku period, but let’s face it; there really aren’t all that many books available on Japanese history as opposed to say, European or American history, yes? And most of the books on the Bakumatsu are going to focus on the general big picture or on the key individuals or han, such as Chōshū, Satsuma or Tosa. Thus sadly, for western written histories of the Bakumatsu, the Shinsengumi are nothing more than an interesting footnote. This is one of the problems with non-Japanese scholarship on this period. A lot of the exciting stuff gets relegated to mere footnote status as it really doesn’t alter the outcome of events. Hence, at least in English, the Shinsengumi, for the large part, remain footnotes of history.

So, the question is—who is going to write the next non-fictional account of the Shinsengumi in English? Any takers?

Weapons & Fighting Techniques Of The Samurai Warrior 1200-1877 AD

Wow, I thought to myself as I unwrapped a large parcel from a bookseller in the UK-Thomas Conlan (Associate Professor of Asian Studies at Bowdoin College and a leader in the scholarly examination of samurai warfare) has written a coffee table book-Weapons & Fighting Techniques Of The Samurai Warrior 1200-1877 AD! It's loaded with lots of color photos, diagrams, and artwork, including step by step demonstrations of fighting with bows, swords, spears, harquebus, and more. I can’t say I’m very impressed with the maps. Overall, the graphic presentation is a lot like Kure Mitsuo’s Samurai: An Illustrated History-but with more impressive writing.

While I’ve only given it a quick read through (I’ll post more on it later), these are my initial impressions. As far as text goes, there is a LOT to chew on here for those interested in samurai combat and tactics. Conlan brings the same fresh perspective that he’s brought to his two former books (In Little Need of Divine Intervention and State Of War). Even those who have kept up-to-date with the newest findings among Japanese historians will find some startling new material. Conlan continues the fine work that he (along with Karl Friday) has done in exploding the old myths of samurai combat and bushido. Samurai warfare is shown to have had over 75% of its casualties caused by projectile weapons (this concept isn’t new, but more evidence is presented). The impact of the small Japanese horse on battle is examined in depth (along with the extreme reluctance of horse owners to risk them in close combat), further reinforcing the notion that there were few if any massed cavalry charges in Japanese battles, with cavalry usually only being used in close combat to go after an enemy that had broken and was in retreat. Another interesting point Conlan makes (using contemporary accounts) is that the small horses put brawny warriors at a disadvantage.

Conlan also reexamines some of the more popular accounts given in most history books and puts a new spin on them. His section on Nagashino reinvents the likely course of the battle, beginning with debunking the numbers of guns fielded by the Oda. While most of us on the Samurai Archives realize that the Oda/Tokugawa forces had 1000, not 3000 (normally the number seen in Western histories), guns, Conlan takes it a step further and puts forth the notion it fielded 500 or fewer. Using the results of recent excavations of the battlefield, he postulates that Nobunaga achieved such a decisive victory by using the Tokugawa army as bait, concealing the Oda forces, and unleashing a massive ambush on the Takeda when they attempted to envelope the Tokugawa. The famous notion of ‘three ranks’ of rotating gunfire is largely discounted as an Edo period fabrication. It’s fascinating stuff many people won’t agree with, but it’s a well supported and thought out argument. Likewise, Conlan has a different viewpoint of the Uesugi army than is normally seen-he considers them to be right there with the Oda in terms of innovative and effective use of gunfire (largely due to their contact and friendly relations with the Ashikaga Shogunate, gaining access through them to early gunpowder and firearm technology) rather than the ‘traditional’ cavalry based army it is usually portrayed as. He ascribes the collapse of the major Eastern daimyo (the Takeda, Hojo, and Imagawa) largely to their failure to incorporate firearms technology quickly enough. Conlan even makes corrections to common attributions, such as identifying what is perhaps the most famous portrait of Minamoto no Yoritomo (as seen here) to be in reality a portrait of Ashikaga Tadayoshi (this info has been around since the mid-nineties, but is the first time I've seen it presented in an English language book).

The book comes up short in at least one major area-being written for a more general audience, it has no footnotes or endnotes. This makes further examination or study of Conlan’s points difficult to impossible. For example, he twice brings up a female warrior, Tsuruhime, who according to oral legend fought in several battles in the inland sea around 1542 (there’s an existing suit of modified armor attributed to her). He also mentions that there is an account of a group of female cavalry that fought in western Japan in the 1350’s. I find this interesting, but a dead end-what account? Contemporary? A war tale? Temple tradition? Where do the accounts of Tsuruhime come from? Without the notes, it’s impossible to tell and evaluate these claims.

Still, it’s a book that anyone with a serious interest in samurai warfare, Japanese history, or weaponry should have on their bookshelf. It will be interesting to see how the book is received by the public-the general audience it is aimed for will likely not take kindly to having its romanticized preconceptions dismantled so effectively. It’s sure to cause some spirited debate and get its readers reconsidering their positions on a multitude of topics. At around $13 for a 225 page hardcover loaded with color shots, it’s an absolute steal. Buy it today-you won’t be sorry.