A Man Who Lived Like the Wind: The Trajectory of Gennai Hiraga (Part 2)
Last time, we talked about how Gennai's reputation was gradually spreading, like a favorable wind before something big was about to begin.
You'd like to think that once you have a reputation, doors will open, but...
Sometimes those paths don't lead to the future you hoped for, but to places you never expected.
──1759 (9th year of the Horeki era)
The domain lord, Yoriyasu Matsudaira, heard of his reputation and called him back into service.
But for Gennai, freedom was his greatest treasure.
He must have gradually felt suffocated by the days where he couldn't research freely and had to handle only what he was ordered to do.
After only two years—in 1761 (1st year of the Meiwa era)—he resigned again.
The result was a "Hoko-gamae" (a ban on employment).
Hoko-gamae: A measure where someone who defied the will of their domain or did not fit into the system would be barred from being hired by other domains or master families.
It meant he could no longer be hired by any domain, leaving him with no choice but to live as a ronin, so to speak.
Even so, Gennai never let go of those two things: "scholarship and ambition."
At the age of thirty-four, he returned to Edo once again as a ronin.
Back in Edo, despite being a ronin, Gennai burned even brighter with his passion for learning.
In 1762 (12th year of the Horeki era), he held the fifth Yakuhinkai (exhibition of medicinal substances).
This time, he even prepared flyers to call out to herbalists across the country.
The flyers distributed nationwide included detailed considerations for participants, such as the fact that the exhibition would cover shipping costs for entries and return them promptly after the event, and that it would take only about two weeks to arrive even from the western provinces.
It was a system that allowed people to participate without visiting the venue by leaving their items at one of the twenty-five "receiving stations" set up across the country, making it possible to submit items from far away. The concept was ahead of its time as an exhibition, welcoming unknown items and calling for a wide range of exhibits beyond just medicinal substances. The flyers, which wove together classical Chinese and Japanese, reflect Gennai's ingenuity and enthusiasm in balancing formality with practicality.
…It was a truly passionate, heartfelt call.
His efforts bore fruit, and the fifth Yakuhinkai was a magnificent success.
While the first exhibition had 180 types of items, this one gathered over 1,300, which shows just how significant Gennai's connections and hard work were.
And you know, it was through this Yakuhinkai that he formed a bond with Genpaku Sugita.
Genpaku, who called Gennai a "natural genius," later wrote his name down firmly in his book "Rangaku Kotohajime" (The Beginning of Dutch Studies).
Recognizing each other's talents and talking intimately—
They would continue to build their bond from here on out as truly trusted friends.
Furthermore, Gennai's disciple, Naotake Odano, would go on to handle the frontispiece and illustrations for the famous "Kaitai Shinsho" (New Book of Anatomy).
Naotake Odano, who drew the illustrations, was a disciple of Gennai and a person who learned Western painting techniques from him. It is said that because Genpaku, who was proceeding with the translation, and Gennai were closely connected, Odano was selected as the illustrator. In the text written at the end of the volume, Odano states, "This work is beyond my capabilities, but if I refuse, it will cause trouble for my friend," which reveals his humble thoughts and his resolve to take on the heavy responsibility. Note that while this text is considered the only one in existence written by Odano's own hand, there is a theory that it was ghostwritten by Gennai.
In other words, while Genpaku, Ryotaku Maeno, and their colleagues were opening up new horizons in medicine,
the connections Gennai had made were very much alive.
Thinking back, I believe this Horeki period was the time when Gennai was most methodically facing his studies.
And, the "national interest" that he believed in.
The ambition for the sake of the country.
The culmination of that could be said to be the "Butsurui Hinshitsu" (Classification of Natural Products).
It was a work that would remain for future generations, as he examined products from various regions and tried to build the foundation for scholarship and industry.
1763 (13th year of the Horeki era)
A product commentary book written by Gennai Hiraga, which records the Chinese names, Japanese names, shapes, properties, and production areas of 360 items selected from exhibits at the Yakuhinkai (product exhibitions) held since 1757. Sketches were added for 32 particularly rare items, and Volume 6 also introduces cultivation methods for Korean ginseng and sugar manufacturing methods with illustrations. It is thought that Western botanical books such as Dodoens' "Cruydeboeck," introduced in Chapter 1, were also used as references, and the perspective of domestic production and resource utilization in Japan can be seen throughout.
By this time, the name of Gennai, the organizer, had become widely known in the town of Edo.
However, scholarship does not make money.
Whether searching for medicinal herbs or investigating mines, it costs both money and manpower.
Even so, Gennai did not stop his pace.
Textiles, ceramics, mining—he reached out to the front lines of industry, wanting to stop the wealth of this country from flowing overseas at any cost.
That is why he aimed for a path of domestic production rather than relying on imports.
Based on that belief, he tried to open up the future of the country by "domesticating" Western technology and tools rather than just "imitating" them.
When he turned his eyes to ceramics, he relied on the memories of the pottery methods he had learned in the past, searched for clay that suited Japan's climate, devised firing methods, and finally fired porcelain that came to be called "Gennai-yaki."
The same goes for woolen fabrics.
At the time, Rasha (wool fabric) was all imported and expensive. To compete with that, he thought he needed sheep first, so he brought four sheep back from Nagasaki and even started raising them in his hometown of Sanuki.
From there, he created a domestic Rasha named "Kunitomo-ori," bearing his own real name.
It was a truly mind-boggling story.
It took manpower, time, and money.
He created it, but as a business—it just didn't work out.
Furthermore, there is a story that he even made "fireproof cloth" using asbestos, which is resistant to heat and chemicals, and presented it to the Shogun.
In the first year of Meiwa (1764), Gennai discovered asbestos in Mt. Ryokami in Chichibu, wove it, and named it "Kakanpu" (fireproof cloth). It attracted attention as a non-flammable fabric that would not burn even when thrown into a fire, and could have oil and ink stains burned off. Gennai prided himself on it being a "world first," but his disciple, Nakayoshi Morishima, later recorded that he was shown a larger piece by a Dutchman. The "Ryakusetsu" is a book in which Gennai, having succeeded in producing the fireproof cloth, introduces it.
And then, there were the mines.
Even though gold and silver were already becoming difficult to extract, he believed that "there are still buried treasures in this country," and he dove into every field imaginable.
Gennai's idea of connecting science and industry was like walking a hundred years ahead of his time, all by himself.
That man was a herbalist and a geologist.
While being a scholar of Western learning, he was also a haiku poet and a writer of Joruri plays.
When he picked up a brush, he painted Western-style art, and under the pen name "Fukuchi Kigai," he even wrote the preface for the Yoshiwara guide "Saiken Aa-Oedo."
And under the pen name "Furai Sanjin," he wielded his brush as a writer of fiction,
making the people of Edo laugh with didactic books like "Nenashigusa" and "Furyu Shidoken-den."
Honestly, the way Gennai's talents manifested was so elusive and unpredictable that it left me speechless.
However, back then, the profession of "writer" wasn't really a well-established career.
Even so, in order to continue his studies and hold onto his aspirations for the country, he had to make money.
The "Hiraga-style" satire that occasionally peeked through his humorous stories—it wasn't just simple comedy.
A raw, poisonous edge that could be taken as abuse or insults—
perhaps he was venting his pent-up frustrations with a world that wouldn't go his way, and with his own life.
I still remember one evening.
Gennai was sitting on the veranda of the tenement house, quietly looking up at the moon.
I quietly crawled out from under the floorboards and sat down next to him.
"You must be much freer than I am."
There was a sense of loneliness mixed into that muttered voice.
When I glanced into the tenement room, I saw several boxes lying around that were called "Elekiter."
Initially, it was advertised as "curing illnesses with electric shocks," but it had little effect and instead attracted people's interest as a spectacle. Nevertheless, it is an invention that symbolizes the beginning of electrical technology in Japan.
Those must have been boxes filled with the continuations of his dreams.
However,
none of those many dreams worked out as a business.
His knowledge was simply too far ahead of his time.
From here on, the story becomes a bit heartbreaking for me, too.
…I felt like the air was gradually changing.
The wind was still quiet, but it felt chilly and unsettling somewhere—
Shall we continue the story again soon?
Wait for me a little while.