The Pleasures of the Analog Life / Books: 'Manzai Kyokashu'

"The soft scenery, gently"—
The true essence where a peaceful scene is vividly inverted

In the glorious tradition of Japanese poetry, one could say that kyoka (mad verse) sits at the very bottom. Writing it this way might be taken as looking down on kyoka, but that is far from the truth; I actually feel much more affinity for these poems that laugh off all the myriad things of the mundane world without paying any mind to beauty, rather than the highly refined waka of the Heian nobility.


Such literature of boisterous laughter must have existed since ancient times, but it appeared on the stage of literary history during the turbulent Middle Ages, and eventually became widely accepted by society under the peace and stagnation of the Tokugawa Shogunate system. The 'Manzai Kyokashu' (Anthology of Ten Thousand Years of Mad Verse), published in 1783 (Tenmei 3), was a grand anthology that collected 748 poems by over 230 poets from past and present, selected by literary giants like Ota Nanpo (whose kyoka name was Shoku Sanjin), and it sparked an unprecedented kyoka boom in Edo during the Tanuma era. Well, enough of the tedious explanation; based on the Kyoyo Bunko edition (annotated by Toshihiko Uda), I will immediately announce my personal top three.


First, the poem at the very beginning of the book. It is astonishing right from the start.


　Composed on the day spring begins　Teitoku
・Blowing back the hem of Sahohime, the spring breeze reveals the soft scenery gently


A poem said to have been composed on the first day of spring by Teitoku, the leader of Teimon haikai. For now, the surface meaning is something like, "Oh, spring breeze, blowing back the hem of the young grass of Sahohime (Mt. Saho, Nara Prefecture), revealing the gentle scenery so delicately." If you decipher the implications hidden behind it, it becomes this: "Oh, spring breeze, blowing back the hem of the spring goddess's garment, revealing the soft fur (scenery) of her private parts (gently)." What do you think? It is structured like a "risqué picture" where the peaceful scene that comes to mind is instantly flipped into something vivid. And yet, both the surface and the hidden meaning convey the dazzling vitality of spring budding forth, without a hint of a morbid impression. Is this not truly the essence of kyoka?


This one is also intense.


　No title　Anonymous
・When you examine the inner reality of what is called love, it is nothing but two holes for urine and feces


It probably needs no explanation, but just in case, I will provide my own interpretation: "If you get to the bottom of the inner reality of love between women and men, it ultimately boils down to two holes that excrete urine and feces." While the meaning is completely blunt, there is a note attached saying, "Some say this poem is by Ikkyu Osho," and if that bold and unconstrained Zen master Ikkyu really did compose it, this foul-smelling poem might be one that has seen through to the state of "form is emptiness, emptiness is form."


Let me list one more, a poem that is not about crude humor.


　　Anonymous
・Speak to someone casually, and while wiping a tea bowl, let them drink tea
　　Some say this poem is by Rikyu Koji


Does it mean something like, "I want to have a casual chat and drink tea while wiping a humble tea bowl"? According to the note, it is considered a poem composed by Sen no Rikyu, the creator of wabi-cha who took his own life after incurring the wrath of the powerful Taiko Hideyoshi, and its dazed, simple flavor is charming. The 'Seisuisho,' a collection of humorous stories from the time of the third Tokugawa Shogun, cites this poem along with "If I could show the spring of the grass between the snow in the mountain village to those who wait only for the flowers," and reports, "Rikyu, considering this the true meaning of wabi, would always chant this poem, and when facing a friend who was troubled in heart, would say, 'Be sure not to forget this.'"


Whether it is layering the vitality of women onto the arrival of spring, discerning that the ultimate end of the worldly desires of love is merely two holes in the crotch, or entrusting the wonder of human interaction to a chipped tea bowl, I cannot help but be deeply impressed by the richness of the humor of the Japanese people contained within them. Where on earth have we, in the modern age, misplaced such laughter?