[In the following excerpt, Kominz discusses the modification of the story Soga Monogatarai to provide the essential premises for the Kabuki play Ya no Ne, and points out that the most important differences in the Kabuki version are its New Year setting, the strength and determination of the central character and vitruosity required of the actor playing him, and the emphasis on visual effects. Ideographic characters in this essay have been silently removed. This essay has been slightly revised by the author for reprint here.]

The kabuki of the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries was essentially an actor's art. We know most plays by title only and it is often difficult to determine the authorship of the texts that have survived, but a wealth of detail remains telling us which roles individual actors played and how well they were received. Through the 1670s plays were rough-hewn constructions. The lead actor decided on a plot and its breakdown into scenes, and with the help of ‘authors’ he invented speeches for the various actors. At rehearsals the actors wrote down at most the opening lines of their parts and relied on memory and imagination to fill in the rest on stage.¹ In the course of time kabuki developed and play-writing became more important. Some playwrights, such as Tsuruya Namboku, 1755-1829, and Kawatake Mokuami, 1816-1893, were widely known and respected in their own lifetimes. In addition, the impact of Western literary values in the modern period led to a greater interest in dramatic literature and the process of its creation. Contemporary kabuki has nevertheless retained its traditional character as an actor's theater. The aragoto (‘wild business’) plays best preserve the spirit of the Edo stage of the early eighteenth century, and in no other form of the art is the actor's predominance more apparent.

In traditional aragoto plays the lead actor is the obvious center of attention. The other actors, the words and music of the play, and even the gorgeous sets fade into insignificance; their role is to reinforce the image of strength and valor presented by the aragoto character and to bring the virtuosity of the main actor into clear focus. The aragoto actor is spectacular even in immobility. Every aspect of his appearance is exaggerated. His bold costume makes him seem larger than life. In Shibaraku, for example, concealed stage assistants hold out his huge square sleeves to enlarge his appearance. Some aragoto roles call for the actor to use a sword or arrows about five feet long; in other roles he carries three swords instead of the samurai's usual two. But the most striking visual features of aragoto are the actor's face and limbs, which are painted with bright stripes that accentuate natural lines of anger and tension.

The acting in an aragoto role is as stylized and overstated as the actor's appearance. Aragoto plays are an early form of shosagoto, or dance play. The performer's movements follow a complex choreography, and his gestures and postures illustrate the lyrics of the play. But traditional aragoto is not pure dance as are the more common buyō shosagoto; the aragoto actor has many lines of his own to deliver, and his movement is a series of crudely linked static postures, not a smoothly flowing dance.² His movements are expansive and full of vitality; he stamps loudly on the floor, he makes great, sweeping strokes with his oversized sword, he crushes foes beneath his feet or tosses them lightly away, he expresses his joy in a swaggering roppō dance.³ Dynamic postures that demonstrate heightened emotion or resolve culminate with the mie, in which the actor rolls his eyes and twists his face in a fierce grimace. The malevolent glare of an aragoto character is often enough to terrify an enemy and send him scampering off in full flight.

Aragoto lines, usually delivered in a strong, guttural voice, can be part of a dialogue or simply another demonstration of the predominance of the lead actor. The actor may accompany his own physical effort with onomatopoetic descriptions of his action, and sometimes he even bellows a brisk series of nonsense syllables to demonstrate the strength of his voice.⁴ Many of the lyrics are in a heroic vein. The hero recalls the immortals of Chinese and Japanese martial lore, and vows to outdo their feats. The power of the aragoto actor is often reinforced through an encounter with a contrasting wagoto (‘gentle business’) character. Wagoto costumes are subdued and naturalistic, and wagoto acting is restrained to the point of femininity.

The aragoto style of acting was introduced to kabuki by Ichikawa Danjūrō I, 1660-1704. The term aragoto is in fact a contraction of aramushagoto (‘wild warrior business’), which first appeared in accounts of Danjūrō's early career, although it is not known whether the word was invented by the actor himself or by his fans. Danjūrō's stage debut was made at the age of fourteen when he appeared as Sakata no Kintoki in Shitennō Osanadachi. No text of this play survives, but it portrayed the youth of the four faithful retainers of Minamoto no Yorimitsu, 944-1021, who were known as the Shitennō, or Four Guardian Kings. Medieval folklore and literature, including the noh, immortalized the gallant Shitennō, who were renowned for having killed several ferocious demons in the Kyoto region.⁵ In his first role, Danjūrō wore the costume of a heroic youth, used red and black make-up, and carried a battle-axe.⁶ In his next three roles he played Soga Gorō, Fuwa Banzaemon, and the thunder god Narukami.⁷ In kabuki tradition, Soga Gorō is a rambunctious character with super-human strength. The historical Gorō and his elder brother Jūrō gained immortal fame by avenging their father's murder in 1193. They were killed in the vendetta, and their story was recounted in the medieval tale Soga Monogatari and in numerous plays based on that story.⁸

On what sources did Danjūrō draw to create his new stage art? This question has intrigued specialists in such surprisingly diverse fields as literature, cultural history, religion, and anthropology. Of course, Danjūrō was not the first actor to put powerful characters and martial displays on the stage. In the noh theater, plays about demons and warriors show men, ghosts, and monsters in violent aspect, and the dance in these plays is vigorous and sometimes even acrobatic.⁹ Noh dance probably contributed to the choreography of aragoto; the ‘pillar mie’ for example, may derive from a similar posture used in demon noh. The kōwakamai and ko-jōruri also contain many scenes of martial conflict.¹⁰ It is unlikely that Danjūrō had much experience with noh or kōwakamai, but ko-jōruri was being performed for the public in seventeenth-century Edo and Danjūrō probably watched both this and a special form of ko-jōruri known as kimpira jōruri.¹¹Kimpira jōruri described the exploits of the sons of the Shitennō, with Sakata Kintoki's son, Kimpira, ‘a daredevil warrior, youthful and short-tempered, but brave and persistent’, as the main hero.¹²Kimpira jōruri fully exploited the use of puppets; heroes performed super-human leaps and stunts, and combat scenes portrayed a mayhem of severed heads and limbs. Recitation was strong and rhythmic; Izumi Dayū beat an iron bar to accompany his chant and used it to smash puppets in fight scenes.¹³Aragoto shares with kimpira jōruri its exaggerated actions, youthful exuberance, and the artless violence of its heroes.

Although the Edo puppet theater surely influenced Danjūrō's aragoto style, the true origins of aragato are found in ritual performances of popular religion. Danjūrō was a follower of shugendō and the patron deity of his family was Fudō.¹⁴ The doctrine of shugendō contains elements taken from both Buddhism and Shinto, and its leading adherents were yamabushi, or mountain ascetics. Their rituals included dances called aramai (‘wild dance’),¹⁵ in which they portrayed violent warriors and deities, including Fudō. The action in aramai includes stamping, glaring, twirling, and acrobatics, and dancers use swords and sticks in fight scenes. Evidence linking shugendō practises and Fudō worship to the kabuki of the Ichikawa family includes the following: (1) the movements in aragato and aramai are similar; (2) the tsurane lines in aragoto appear to derive from yamabushi prayers;¹⁶ (3) Fudō is an important character in the aragato repertory—Danjūrō I often played the role and his son Danjūrō II made his debut as Fudō; and (4) the Ichikawa family may have chosen the color of persimmon for its ceremonial kimono because that is the color of yamabushi robes.¹⁷

The purpose of yamabushi aramai, like that of most powerful ritual dances, is to drive away evil spirits that cause sickness and disaster. Yamabushi performed these dances in private houses to cure the ill or insane, and at festivals to protect the community from calamity. The concept that demons or wrathful deities, presented on stage at festivals, could destroy evil spirits is basic to Japanese folk belief. The kami of early Japan often had malevolent intentions and a demonlike aspect, and thus inspired fear in believers. Yet if properly supplicated, respected, and entertained, these dangerous deities could be won over and could protect the community from the minor evil spirits that were believed to cause illness, poor crops, etc.¹⁸ Buddhist iconography reinforced this belief in a deity of terrible aspect but of benevolent intentions. Fudō, for example, appears ferocious, wreathed in a halo of flame. Although he smites demons with the sword in his right hand, he pulls lost souls to paradise with the rope in his left. The dynamic and awesome appearance of Buddhist statues depicting the Godai Myōō (including Fudō), the Shitennō, and the Niō strongly influenced aragoto costuming, make-up, and postures.¹⁹ Vigorous dances such as the aramai were intended to please the deities by demonstrating their great strength, but festival participants also believed that divine power could enter the dance performers and that these dancers could cure illness or torment caused by evil spirits.²⁰

Among the most dangerous spirits in the Heian and medieval periods were the arahitogami or goryōshin, that is, the spirits of great men who were either punished unjustly or who died violent deaths. If these spirits were not appeased they might cause calamities such as fires, floods, crop failures, as well as sickness, madness, or death by possession. Arahitogami could be pacified or won over if they were deified and worshipped and if their stories were recited or shown in performance.²¹ Two of the most important heroes of kabuki aragoto, Soga Gorō and Kamakura Gongorō Kagomasa, were worshipped as arahitogami in the medieval period. The spirits of these two men were feared more than those of other warriors because the name Gorō sounds like goryō. Soga Gorō was revered as a thunder god because his name sounds like the Japanese onomatopoetic representation of thunder, ‘goro, goro, goro’, and because his death occurred at the beginning of the summer rainy season.²²

Aragoto's roots in popular religion have been clearly documented, but scholars still debate whether aragoto kabuki was a secular or religious performance for spectators in the early eighteenth century. When Danjūrō I played the role of Fudō, members of the audience threw coins onto the stage as offerings to Fudō,²³ and several performers and spectators went to Danjūrō II to be cured of illness or possession. There was, for example, a fellow performer who was ill owing to fox possession.

Danjūrō seized the patient, glared at him in aragoto fashion, and shouted, ‘If you don't go away now, you'll have to deal with me!’ The patient's face changed color, and he suddenly jumped from the second-floor balcony into the street. The leap was the fox spirit in flight and the patient was cured.²⁴

Aragoto plays have an important place in the annual kabuki rituals established during the time of the first two Danjūrōs. Shibaraku was an indispensable item of the kaomise program, the gala spectacle staged during the last month of the year. The leading Ichikawa actor always took the part of Kamakura Gongorō in the play. The tradition of performing Soga plays for the New Year was established during the time of Danjūrō II. In the Genroku period, 1688-1704, plays were performed in the Kansai region in the bon season as offerings to the brothers' spirits. In Edo, Soga plays were staged at various times until 1709, when they were successful at all the Edo theaters in the first months of the year. From 1709 until well into the Meiji period, Edo, or Tokyo, theaters opened the New Year with Soga plays, and the leading Ichikawa played Soga Gorō in one of them. Some of these plays were so successful that they enjoyed long runs, the record being set in 1721 when Ōtaka Nigiwai Soga for 280 days. The spirits of the Soga brothers were enshrined and worshipped at the ‘three Edo theaters’ (Nakamura-za, Ichimura-za, and Morita-za), and from the 1750s until around 1815 theaters celebrated the Soga Festival on the 28th day of the fifth month, the day of the brothers' vendetta.

The exorcisms performed by Danjurō II and the role of the Soga brothers in kabuki rituals convince various scholars that the appreciation of aragoto in the Edo period was more religous than it is today. Responses to a theatrical event depend, of course, on the individual spectator. Edo audiences were generally more provincial than those of the Kansai, for in the first half of the Edo period most inhabitants of the city were country born or only a generation or two removed from their rural origins. Newcomers brought with them their experience that action on stage partakes of the divine. The position of aragoto in the annual kabuki events does not provide convincing proof of the religious nature of aragoto. Both the Soga New Year tradition and the Soga Festival were established following box-office successes. Actors gave thanks to the Soga spirits for providing them with the thematic material that brought artistic and commercial success, and spectators, actors, and theater owners seemed to believe that what pleased them also pleased the gods. ‘The Umekawa Soga kyōgen was an unprecedented hit. It must certainly have pleased the arahitogami.’²⁵ This attitude toward the spirit of Soga Gorō was far different from that of medieval peasants who had lived in fear of Soga Gorō's wrath and who had beseeched the spirit, as a thunder god, to bring timely rains.

It is particularly difficult to separate the religious from the secular in Japanese rituals, especially in the case of rituals performed during annual observances such as the New Year. Aragoto acting was suited to traditional New Year's customs, including ceremonies to drive off demons and evil spirits to insure health and safety in the coming year. The Okina and Sambasō dances, which are performed in noh and kyōgen to celebrate the New Year, have the same origins, with stamping the feet central to the choreography of both dances and of all aragato movement. Stamping subdues or kills evil spirits that were believed to dwell in the earth. And the universal New Year's image of a youth driving off an old man can be seen in the portrayal of Gorō as a brash, young upstart and his enemy as a crafty old man.

From his diary we know that Danjūrō I considered his acting to be an integral part of his religious life,²⁶ and it is certain that he drew on archetypes deeply rooted in the cultural imagination of the Japanese when he created his aragato characters and plays. The popularity of aragato acting made Danjūrō the preeminent actor of Edo, and by 1692 he was the best-paid actor there. He cast his plays so that he would dominate the stage and all other actors would remain in his shadow; as a result, Danjūrō had frequent conflicts with employers, colleagues and subordinates. Danjūrō was murdered on-stage by a rival actor, Ikushima Hanroku, in 1704. The motive for the crime remains obscure even today.

Danjūrō II was a brilliant successor to his father and brought to the stage many of the plays that became classics of aragoto. From the time of the first two Danjūrōs, the Ichikawa family has played a leading role in the kabuki of Edo and Tokyo. Originally the family preserved the exclusive right to perform their best aragoto plays, but today actors from other groups present aragoto kabuki. The currently performed versions of Shibaraku and Ya no Ne are probably closest in form to the aragoto plays of the early eighteenth century. Other frequently performed aragoto plays include Kanjinchō, Kotobuki Soga no Taimen, Narukami, the ‘Kuruma Biki’ scene of Sugawara Denju Tenarai Kagami, and Kokusen'ya Kassen.

YA NO NE

Ya no Ne is a New Year play about the Soga brothers and was composed by Murase Genzaburō; it was first performed at the Nakamura-za in 1729, with Danjūrō II playing the lead role of Soga Gorō.²⁷ The play was so well received that it continued for five months, enabling the proprietor of the theater to build two ‘Ya no Ne storehouses' from the profits made during its long run.²⁸Ya no Ne remained popular throughout the Edo period and was often performed,²⁹ and in 1832 Danjūrō VII, 1791-1859, included it among the Eighteen Great Plays. He felt that these plays best represented the aragoto traditions of his family, and he hoped that their regular performance would solidify his family's prestige and prosperity. Today Ya no Ne is among seven of the Eighteen Great Plays that are still frequently performed, and is presented once every two or three years, usually at the kaomise or for the New Year's production in January.

The plot of Ya no Ne is based on a small part of Soga Monogatari. The play embellishes the story and interweaves all manner of New Year customs of the Edo period. Some critics consider the text to be ‘incoherent and impossible to comprehend’, and believe that it was equally incomprehensible to the Edo audience.³⁰ It is true that there is no well-told story in Ya no Ne, but that is not the purpose of the text. First and foremost, the words of the play provide opportunities for the aragoto actor to display his virtuosity; in the second place, they delight the audience with their irreverent and sarcastic wit. The work pokes fun at the values and symbols that the people of the Edo period held in respect. Puns twist the sayings of Confucius into calls for lechery, and Gorō heaps abuse on the gods of happiness in a satirical monologue. Humor in the play largely derives from puns created by the juxtaposition of the contemporary vocabulary of the Edo period with the traditional Soga story. Audiences were familiar with both vocabularies, and so the contrast in meaning and tone was readily apparent and amusing. For the modern reader and audience both types of language are archaic and thus much of the humor is lost. But Soga Monogatari had nothing to do, of course, with Edo New Year's customs, and so the witty juxtaposition of those two worlds is obvious to all. The intrusion of New Year's food, gifts, and superstitions lightens the tone of the story and brings Soga Gorō, a legendary hero, into the lives of ordinary spectators.

The original source for the plot is found in the ‘Wada Sakamori’ episode of the popular version of Soga Monogatari.³¹ Soga Jūrō, the elder brother, visits his lover, Tora, in the Ōiso pleasure district. The powerful daimyo, Wada Yoshimori, appears with a large retinue and demands that Tora, who is famed for her beauty, be summoned to serve him. Tora does not want to betray Jūrō so at first she refuses to leave him, but finally they both join Yoshimori's party. Tora is asked to first serve the man whom she respects the most, and she therefore gives the first cup of sake to Jūrō. Yoshimori is offended and his retainers are outraged; a one-sided fight seems imminent, but Gorō, who has been alerted by a premonition of danger, arrives on the scene. Yoshimori's son tries to pull Gorō into the banquet room, but Gorō is so strong that his opponent cannot move him and succeeds only in ripping off several plates of Gorō's armor. All are cowed by Gorō's awesome strength and the two brothers leave safely.

Ya no Ne is concerned solely with the section in which Gorō is at home, has a premonition of danger, and sets off to rescue his brother. In Soga Monogatari the scene is described as follows.

Shortly before this, Gorō was at home in Soga. He sat in front of the altar reading the Lotus Sutra and praying for the salvation of his father's spirit. Suddenly a premonition of danger came to him. ‘I know that Jurō went to Ōiso. The warriors of the eight eastern provinces are probably there by now, on their way to the Fuji hunt.³² Since Tora is a courtesan, she could be the cause of some disturbance.’ He rushed into his room, put on his armor, and thrust in his belt the four-and-a-half-foot-long red-handled sword that had belonged to his family for generations. With no time to saddle his horse he jumped on bare-back and galloped more than twenty chō, riding as if taking a single turn around the training ground.³³

A kōwakamai and several ko-jōruri versions of the same incident were performed prior to the kabuki play. The ko-jōruri play, Wada Sakamori, published in 1664 under the name of the reciter Satsuma Jōun, d. 1669, is virtually identical to the kōwakamai play of the same title. The Edo chanter Tosa no Shōjō, fl. 1670s, modified the play significantly in his version, Fūryū Wada Sakamori, but the most dramatic sections of his play, including the section corresponding to Ya no Ne, still greatly resemble the kōwakamai. The sections relevant to the text of Ya no Ne are as follows.

Gorō was at Furui sharpening arrows. Becoming drowsy, he pulled up a go board to serve as his pillow, and fell into a deep slumber. His elder brother Jūrō approached his pillow.

‘Listen, Gorō! Even though you studied Chang Liang's Scroll of Forty-Eight Chapters on the martial arts,³⁴ you have drunk too much sake and are helpless. If you remain fast asleep, the plans of a thousand days will be destroyed in a single night. Get up! Get up!’

Jūrō repeated, ‘Get up!’, four or five times in Gorō's dream to rouse him. Gorō awoke with a start, looked around, but saw no one. Thinking it strange, he summoned a serving woman and inquired about Jūrō. She told him that Jūrō had said he would spend the evening away at Ōiso.

Gorō speculates about Jūrō's predicament, thinking that the danger must be Kudō's doing. He says that he will permit no one to ‘tread on Jūrō's shadow’. There follows a lengthy description of Gorō's arming himself, including a detailed account of the history of the armor and swords.

Gorō ran to the stable, where there was a fawn-colored horse that he had recently washed. Since there was no time to saddle it, he pulled some reins off a hook, put an iron bit in its mouth, led it from the stall, and mounted. The roundabout route would be three ri, but the direct way was only fifty chō.³⁵ ‘If I go around it will take too much time,’ he thought, and pressed on for Soga Nakamura. He spurred his horse and struck it with his crop, ‘Shitoto, hatato!’ He struck with his crop, ‘Shitoto, hatato!’, and spurred on his horse, which was soon bathed in white foam.³⁶

A third ko-jōruri play, Dōke Wada Sakamori, describes the scene in which Gorō rides off to rescue his brother. It probably dates from the early 1670s and is a line-by-line, and sometimes word-for-word, parody of Jōun's Wada Sakamori, set in the world of contemporary Edo. The plot of Dōke Wada Sakamori follows the traditional story exactly, but many lines are rewritten in colloquial Edo language, replete with contemporary proverbs and the slang and figures of speech from the worlds of commerce, crime and entertainment. The story is filled with references to the Edo of the late 1660s and early 1670s—popular foods, restaurants, clothing and hair styles, as well as the names of otokodate gangs and snatches of popular dances and songs.³⁷ The relevant section of Dōke Wada Sakamori runs as follows.

At a place called Furui, Gorō was engaged in the scrap metal business. He grew drowsy while polishing some arrowheads that he had bought at Asakusabashi in Edo as part of a wholesale purchase, and pulling up an iron teakettle, he dozed off and was soon fast asleep. A moment later his elder brother Jūrō stood above his pillow.

‘Hey, listen, Gorō! Forty-two robbers can join together and snatch wallets and steal scrolls, but if they commit too many crimes they'll be discovered, even if they try to hide their misdeeds. And if you stuff yourself with too much soba and sake, you'll be completely useless. If you stay fast asleep, the plans of a thousand days will be ruined in a single moment. And what do you think you're doing, sleeping at midday when there are so many sneak thieves about nowadays? Get up! Get up!’, he repeated four or five times in Gorō's dream to rouse him.³⁸

Gorō awoke with a start, looked around, and saw no one. When he went to the kitchen, he found the girl Kazuya doing the laundry. When Gorō saw her, he shouted, ‘Hey, servant, servant!’ Then he shouted backward, ‘Hey, vantser, vantser!’³⁹ Gorō asked her about Jūrō and she replied, ‘Master Jū said he wanted to go to Ōiso this evening, so he's away from home.’⁴⁰

Gorō's speculation that Kudō is responsible for Jūrō's plight, and the arming scene, are parodied in the same manner as the above lines parody the kōwakamai passage on p. 395.

Gorō ran to the stable and saw nearby the unloaded packhorse he had sent that morning to Odawara with a load of goods.⁴¹ The horse was being used to plow a rice field. There was no time to saddle it, so he pulled some reins off a hook, clanked an iron bit into its mouth, and swung on its back. ‘Kyūroku, don't drop the money bag, I'm depending on you.’⁴² The roundabout route was three ri, but the direct way was only fifty chō.

‘If I go around, it will take too much time,’ he thought, and he hurried toward Soga Nakamura. He spurred his horse and struck with his crop, ‘Shitoto, hatoto!’ He struck with his crop, ‘Shitoto, hatoto!’, and spurred on his horse, which was soon bathed in white foam.⁴³

Uji Kaga no Jō was one of the first ko-jōruri chanters to significantly rewrite medieval sources for presentation on the puppet stage.⁴⁴ Although Kaga no Jō performed in Kyoto, his plays were published and widely read, and similar settings and motifs in Ya no Ne suggest that Danjūrō was familiar with Kaga no Jō's Yoritomo Hamaide, a ko-jōruri play first performed in Kyoto in 1686.⁴⁵ The relevant section of Yoritomo Hamaide runs as follows.

Soga Gorō Tokimune has set up a hut at Furui. His servant Dōsaburō goes daily to the market to sell firewood, and in the evenings does handicraft work without respite to support his master. Earlier today Dōsaburō set out with a large basket of morning shoots to sell at the market. His visage clouded with tears, Gorō watched Dōsaburō leave, and now, awaiting his return, he burns some pine faggots. Morning and evening the smell of smoke mingles with the scent of the plum tree by the eaves. Shut up for the winter, Gorō awaits the color of spring. Will his destiny blossom like the flowers?

Wishing to hone his faded warrior spirit, Gorō takes out some arrows with rusted heads. ‘Truly it is as if I am sharpening and polishing the straight way of the samurai. I feel as if I'm attacking Suketsune, my father's murderer. It feels just like I'm killing him!’ The bold spirit of this warrior brings to mind words of old.⁴⁶

Honda no Jirō Sukenobu enters. He is a retainer of Hatakeyama Shigetada, a daimyo loyal to the Soga brothers. Honda gives Gorō a horse and wishes him luck in his mission. Gorō sheds tears of gratitude and expresses concern about Jūrō, who has gone to the Ōiso pleasure district. Honda laughs and reminds Gorō that he himself often goes there to visit his mistress, Shōshō; he adds that women offer much-needed respite and consolation for masterless samurai whose lives are full of suffering.

Gorō resumes his arrow sharpening. Shōshō's girl attendant runs on stage and says that there has been a disturbance in Ōiso and that Tora has told her that Jūrō's life is in danger. The girl runs back toward Ōiso.

Gorō gasps in surprise. ‘Well, well, Lord Honda, may the god Suwa Myōjin be my witness that Kudō is plotting to kill Jūrō while he is on his way to or from the pleasure quarters. I won't let anyone even tread on the shadow of my brother, whom I respect like the sun and the moon.’

He leaps up to go, but Honda stops him. ‘Wait! It will be dangerous. You'd better arm yourself. I'll gallop after you, and if anything goes wrong, I'll guard your rear.’

The description of arming is briefer than in the kōwakamai and previous ko-jōruri, but the weapons are the same.

‘This horse is a gift from heaven!’ Gorō pulls some reins off a hook and quickly puts an iron bit into the horse's mouth.

‘With your leave, Lord Honda!’ he cries, and nimbly mounts.

‘Oh, how gallant! How brave! Don't do anything careless.’

If Gorō makes straight for Soga on the dangerous mountain road, the ride will be one ri and eighteen chō long. If he takes the roundabout route, it will be three ri. Harari, harari to! He strikes his steed and strikes again. His horse sends forth smoke and eats white foam.⁴⁷

The three dramatic texts translated above modify the original story of Soga Monogatari in various ways and provide the essential premises for Ya no Ne. For example, Gorō is not praying but is sharpening arrowheads, and Jūrō is endangered by Kudō Suketsune, their father's murderer, not by Wada Yoshimori. Ya no Ne incorporates these modifications but departs from the three texts in some details. For example, in the earlier works Gorō only suspects Kudō to be the source of danger, but in Ya no Ne Jūrō states directly that he has been caught by Kudō. Further, Danjūrō and Murase heightened the dramatic features of the earlier plays. In Ya no Ne, Gorō is informed of Jūrō's plight by means of his appearing in a dream, a far more dramatic ploy than the introduction of a messenger in Yoritomo Hamaide, and all mention of Gorō's tears are deleted as inappropriate to an aragoto hero.⁴⁸

The wit and humor of Ya no Ne owe much to Dōke Wada Sakamori. In Ya no Ne we find the same facetious puns and the same juxtaposition of crude, colloquial language and elegant, classical Japanese, of heroic dialogue alongside the jargon of tradesmen and bandits. Dōke Wada Sakamori is a purely comic piece. The word dōke indicates that the play was part of the tradition of comic kabuki acting, and comic puppet heads were probably used for all the roles.⁴⁹Ya no Ne is an aragoto piece with a stronger emphasis on Gorō's heroism. Much of the wit of Ya no Ne is more intellectual and subtle than that of Dōke Wada Sakamori (and hence more difficult to follow today), and the play does not make use of gratuitously silly word-play such as the gejo/joge line. Since Gorō is a true hero, Jūrō does not taunt him in the dream as in Dōke Wada Sakamori, but calls for help in the traditional way. However, several features of Dōke Wada Sakamori are carried over into Ya no Ne: for instance, Gorō is engaged in the scrap metal trade (but in Ya no Ne he sells old metal to pay his New Year's bills), and he rides off on a pack horse.

An important difference in the kabuki version is its New Year's setting, required of plays to be performed in the first month. Yoritomo Hamaide is the first work in which this episode suggests the New Year; the season is late winter, plum blossoms are mentioned, and a caller brings Gorō a present, although not specifically a New Year's gift. Danjūrō ostensibly based the arrowhead sharpening scene in Ya no Ne on a New Year ceremony performed by official armorers to the shogun,⁵⁰ but the rest of the references to New Year in the play derive from customs of the Edo populace.

The most important modifications in Ya no Ne serve to emphasize the strength and determination of Gorō and the virtuosity of the actor playing him. When Bundayū, a prominent jōruri reciter, appears and offers New Year's greetings, the lead actor is in fact playing two roles—Soga Gorō and himself, the head of an acting troupe. Jūrō's brief appearance provides a wagoto contrast to the aragoto lead: Jūrō's face is pale, his voice thin and quivering, and his form slender and unsubstantial. Ya no Ne includes several dramatic monologues that provide the actor with opportunities to assume dynamic postures and demonstrate his powerful voice. The arming scene of the earlier versions was deleted and replaced by an encounter with a daikon seller in which Gorō shows his physical strength and martial prowess. The vigorous, onomatopoetic descriptions of Gorō's ride are replaced by on-stage action, which, thanks to the dancing horse and daikon whip, conclude the play on a light note suitable to a felicitous New Year's piece.

Ya no Ne is above all a visual experience. The bold costumes and make-up, the actor's grandiose gestures and the ease with which he handles his long arrows and carries the huge whetstone, all contribute to creating the aragoto character. …

Notes

1. Charles J. Dunn & Torigoe Bunzō, The Actor's Analects, University of Tokyo Press, 1969, p. 118.

2. Buyō, is the dance style of contemporary kabuki. For a brief discussion of the different requirements of shosagato in contemporary and eighteenth-century kabuki, see Dunn & Torigoe, p. 170.

3. ‘The word is said to have been derived from roppō kumi or roppō shū, which were organizations of proud commoners ready to assert themselves against the retainers of the Shogun.’ Earle Ernst, The Kabuki Theatre, University Press of Hawaii, 1974, p. 99.

4. A modification of the tsurane, or long run-on monologue.

5. The Shitennō kill the demon Shūtendōji in the noh play Ōeyama, the great earth spider in Tsuchigumo, and encounter the demon of the Rashōmon Gate in Rashōmon.

6. Toita Yasuji, Kabuki Jūhachiban, Chūō Kōronsha, 1969, p. 25.

7. According to surviving records, Danjūrō's next three plays were Kachidoki Homare Soga, 1675; Yūjoron, 1680; and Kadomatsu Shitennō, 1684. Ihara Toshirō, ed., Kabuki Nempyō, Iwanami, 1956, I, pp. 123, 137, & 151.

8. Plays based on the story of the Soga brothers include fourteen noh plays of the Muromachi period, seven kōwakamai plays, and innumerable puppet and kabuki plays.

9. Examples of acrobatics in noh dance include somersaults in Shakkyō and Youchi Soga (translated in MN xxxiii:3 (1978, pp. 447-59), and the hotokedaore, or ‘Buddha fall’, a fall flat on the back representing death in battle. Difficult acrobatic movements can be deleted from some dances if the actor lacks the ability to perform them.

10. The kōwakamai was a form of ballad drama, popular in the late medieval and early Edo period; for an excellent treatment of the art, see James T. Araki, The Ballad Drama of Medieval Japan, Tuttle, 1964. Ko-jōruri refers to the puppet theater of the early Edo period; see C. J. Dunn, The Early Japanese Drama, Luzac, London, 1966.

11. For a history and analysis of Kimpira jōruri, see Dunn, pp. 84-95.

12. Fujimura Saku, ed., Nihon Bungaku Daijiten, Shinchosha, 1932, i, p. 828.

13. Izumi's dates are not known for certain, but the first play published under his name appeared in 1658. Dunn, p. 85.

14. Fudō is a manifestation of Dainichi, and is represented with a dreadful expression and surrounded by flames, holding a sword in his right hand and a rope in his left.

15. Yamabushi aramai is still performed in some districts of Hokuriku and Tōhoku. Misumi Haruo, Sasuraibito no Geinōshi, NHK, 1975, p. 125.

16. Misumi, p. 129. The comic theater of kyōgen satirizes yamabushi prayers by turning them into tsurane-like run-on lines, the content of which is a combination of boasting and gibberish.

17. Misumi, p. 129, and Kanazawa Yasutaka, ‘Aragoto ni Kiku Kami no Ashioto’, in Kokugakuin Zasshi, 57:5 (1956), p. 75.

18. Masaya Akira, ‘Soga Monogatari no Minzokuteki Kiban’, in Kokugakuin Zasshi, 69:4 (1968), pp. 47-48.

19. There are various examples of the influence of Buddhist iconography on aragoto. For instance, niō tasuki are cords with two intertwining colors used to tie up the actor's sleeves during a fight; and when aragoto actors assume a defiant posture, they raise their toes imitating the posture of guardian statues trampling on demons. Toita, pp. 32 33. Further, the red and blue lines painted on the aragoto actor's face and limbs may derive from the protruding chikara suji, or ‘sinews of strength’, found in Buddhist statues.

20. This can still be observed at setsubun festivals. For example, at the Rōzanji festival in Kyoto, the dancers sit on the veranda after their performance and spectators line up before them to be cured. The performers rub the afflicted parts of the body to effect a cure.

21. Hori Ichirō, Folk Religion in Japan, University of Chicago Press, 1968, p. 43; Herbert Plutschow, ‘The Fear of Evil Spirits in Japanese Culture’, in tasj xviii, 1983, pp. 133-51.

22. Aoe Shunjirō, Nihon Geinō no Genryū, Minzoku Mingei Sōsho, 1971, p. 152.

23. Misumi, p. 128. The Ichikawa stage name was Narita-ya and derives from Narita Temple (Shinshōji), where the family went on pilgrimage to worship Fudō.

24. Toita, p. 29.

25. Aoe, p. 158. The Umewaka was an acting family.

26. See Laurence Kominz, The Stars who Created Kabuki: Their Lives, Loves and Legacy, Kodansha International, 1997, pp. 34-107, for a biography of Danjūrō I, and pp. 36-64, passim, for excerpts from and a discussion of Danjūrō's diary

27. Ernst, p. 26, translates the title of the play as ‘The Arrow Maker’, but ‘The Arrow Source’ or ‘The Arrowheads' would perhaps be more accurate. The title of the play performed in 1729 by Danjūrō II was Suehiro Ehō Soga, or ‘The Soga Fan and the Lucky Direction’. Although Murase is considered the author of the play, most scholars credit Danjūro II for the concept and form of the work.

28. Misumi Haruo, Soga no Buyō oyobi Aragoto: Soga Kyōgen Buyō Shū, Kokuritsu Gekijo Jōen Shiryōshū, 50, 1970, p. 22. A district called Ya-no-kura in Chūō-ku, Tokyo, takes its name from the storehouses.

29. Ya no Ne was performed eleven times in the Edo period. For a record of performances, including information on the names of each version, actors, and theaters, see, Ya no Ne Sannin Kichisa Kuruwa no Hatsukai, Kokuritsu Gekijo Jōen Shiryōshū, 74, 1972, pp. 1-5.

30. Misumi, Soga no Buyō, p. 17.

31. Sakamori literally means ‘sake party’, and refers to the party held by Wada no Yoshimori, 1147-1213; the episode is found in the rufubon and Taisanjibon texts of Soga Monogatari.

32. In the summer of 1193 Minamoto no Yoritomo summoned the warriors of the Kantō region for a great hunt on the slopes of Mt Fuji, and it was there that the Soga brothers slew their father's murderer.

33. The last sentence means, ‘riding without halting’. Ichiko Teiji & Ōshima Tatehiko, ed., Soga Monogatari, NKBT 88, Iwanami, 1966, p. 256.

34. Chang Liang, d. 168 b.c., is credited with a treatise on the martial arts, Kakō Biyō; the story of how he learned the secret of martial arts from a sage is told in the noh play Chōryō.

35. 7.3 miles, as opposed to just over one mile.

36. Sasano Ken, ed., Kōwaka Bukyokushū, Rinsen Shoten, 1974, pp. 473-74.

37. The otokodate were men who frequented the pleasure quarters; they set and followed the newest trends, and are portrayed on the kabuki and puppet stages as dashing and gallant characters. There is disagreement as to whether the term refers only to characters in plays or to actual men as well.

38. In the preceding monologue, Jūrō rebukes his younger brother but does not ask for help; when Gorō awakes, the situation returns to the traditional form and he must hasten to rescue Jūrō. Such inconsistencies were unimportant as the audience knew the story so well. In this monologue puns based on the kōwakamai play suggest that the author considered his audience to be familiar with the traditional work: ‘forty-two thieves’ replace the forty-two chapters on the martial arts, stolen ‘scrolls’ refer to the martial-arts ‘scroll’, and sneak thieves ‘hiding’ their crimes, kakusu, is linked to Gorō's ‘studying’, gakusu.

39. Gorō plays with words in a rather silly way. First he calls the servant in the normal way, gejo, and then he merely reverses the syllables, joge.

40. Kazuya refers to Jūrō in an affectionate way by calling him Jū-sama.

41. Odawara did not exist at the time of the historical Soga brothers.

42. The meaning of this line is uncertain. Kyūroku is an Edo-period servant's name, but it does not appear in any other work about the Soga brothers. Presumably it was Kyūroku who led the horse to Odawara and is using it to plow the rice field. Gorō may have have earned the money by delivering freight with the horse.

43. Yokoyama Shigeru, ed., Kojōruri Shōhonshū, Kadokawa, 1964, vi, pp. 418-19.

44. Uji Kaga no Jō, 1635-1711, was an innovative jōruri chanter; Chikamatsu Monzaemon's first plays were written for him.

45. The play has been attributed to Chikamatsu, but it is now believed to be the work of Kaga no Jō.

46. ‘The life of a true gentleman is like cutting and smoothing ivory, like shaping and polishing gems.’ Da Xue, iii: 4; Chinese text in James Legge, tr., Confucian Analects, The Great Learning and the Doctrine of the Mean, Dover Publications, New York, 1971, p. 363.

47. Fujii Otoo, ed., Chikamatsu Zenshū, Asahi Shimbunsha, 1925, iii, pp. 28-31.

48. It is only in the Kaga no Jō version that Gorō weeps during this scene. While aragoto was all the rage in Edo in the late seventeenth century, love plays and pathos plays were popular in Kyoto and Osaka. Hence Kaga no Jō modified the story to suit his audience.

49. Shinoda Jun'ichi & Saitō Seijirō, Noroma Soroma Kyōgen Shūsei, Daigakudo Shoten, 1974, pp. 515-21 & 534-41.

50. Toita, p. 153.