Floating Along in the World of Japanese Prints

The Espousal of the Rat's Daughter

I bought the above illustration a couple of years ago, partly because I am always looking for images of rats in art, but also because I am interested in the work of European artists who have been heavily influenced by Japanese art and design.

This particular illustration was taken from the children's story book 'Green Willow and Other Japanese Fairy Tales', written by Grace James, illustrated by Warwick Goble, and published in 1910. It shows a scene from the tale 'The Espousal of the Rat's Daughter', when Mr Nedzumi goes to ask the wind if he would be interested in marrying his daughter.

Warwick Goble was a Victorian illustrator who specialised in children's books, specifically those containing exotic tales of the East. He produced some magnificent watercolours during his career, but despite the quality of his work is nowhere near as well-known as his contemporaries, such as Arthur Rackham and Edmund Dulac.

Goble was born in 1862 and raised in London. He went to The City of London School and attended the Westminster School of Art. He was exhibiting at the Royal Academy by 1893, but it wasn't until 1896, at the age of thirty-four, that he began his career as an illustrator of children's books, with 'The Oracle of Baal'. Over the next few years, he produced illustrations for only a handful of books, including H.G. Wells' 'War of the Worlds' in 1898, but as the demand for books with colour illustrations grew, so did Goble's productivity. An edition of 'The Water Babies' in 1909 was followed by 'Green Willow and Other Japanese Fairy Tales' in 1910, in which Goble's fascination for Japanese illustrative techniques is very visible.

Click here to read the complete story of 'The Espousal of the Rat's Daughter'.

Japanese Fairy Tale - The Goblin Spider

I've had this little crepe paper book for an age, but after carrying out quite a bit of cleaning yesterday, and removing the homes of quite a few spiders, I was inspired to finally post it here.

The Goblin Spider - Rendered into English by Lafcadio Hearn, published by Hasegawa in 1899. No. 1 in the Japanese Fairy Tale Second Series.

In very ancient books it is said that there used to be many goblin-spiders in Japan. Some folks declare there are still some goblin-spiders. During the daytime they look just like common spiders; but very late at night, when everybody is asleep, and there is no sound, they become very, very big, and do awful things. Goblin- ...

spiders are supposed also to have the magical power of taking human shape - so as to deceive people. And there is a famous Japanese story about such a spider.

There was once, in some lonely part of the country, a haunted temple. No one could live in the building because of the goblins that had taken possession of it. Many brave samurai went to that place at various times for the purpose of killing the goblins. But they were never ...

heard of again after they had entered the temple.

At last one who was famous for his courage and his prudence, went to the temple to watch during the night. And he said to those who accompanied him there: - 'If in the morning I be still alive, I shall drum upon the drum of the temple.' Then he was left alone, to watch by the light of a lamp.

As the night advanced he crouched down under the altar, which supported a dusty image of Buddha. He saw nothing strange and heard no sound till after midnight. Then there came a goblin, having but half a body and one eye, and said:

'Hitokusai!' (There is the smell of a man). But the samurai did not move. The goblin went away.

Then there came a priest and played upon a samisen so wonderfully that the samurai felt sure it was not the playing of a man. So he leaped up with his sword drawn.

The priest, seeing him, burst out laughing, and said: - 'So you thought I was a goblin? Oh no! I am only the priest of this temple; but I have to play to keep off the goblins. - Does not this samisen sound well? Please play a little.'

And he offered the instrument to the samurai who grasped it very cautiously with his left hand. But instantly the samisen changed into a monstrous spider-web, and the priest into a goblin-spider; and the warrior found himself caught fast in the web by the left hand. He struggled bravely, and ...

struck at the spider with his sword, and wounded it; but he soon became entangled still more in the net, and could not move.

However, the wounded spider crawled away, - and the sun rose. In a little while the people came and found the samurai in the horrible web, and freed him. They saw tracks of blood upon the floor, and followed the tracks out of the temple to a hole in ...

the deserted garden. Out of the hole issued a frightful sound of groaning.

They found the wounded goblin in the hole, and killed it.

The Divorce Temples of Mantokuji and Tōkeiji

 

Following on from "Seven Reasons for Divorce', which discussed the behaviours which could inspire a man to divorce his wife, I thought it would be a good idea to post about the divorce temples of Mantokuji (in Kōzuke Province) and Tōkeiji (in North Kamakura), where women, who during the Edo period had no legal right to initiate a divorce, could could go if they wanted to leave their marriage.

The divorce temples offered a means, sanctioned by the state, by which, as long as certain criteria were met, women could negotiate a divorce. A divorce, along with a marriage, amongst the ruling classes was considered a political matter, and permission had to be sought from the government before either could take place. For everyone else, however, both were considered private matters. A man had simply to issue his wife with a writ to divorce her (or in the case of areas of Japan where a go-between was required, that party had only to do so for the matter to be final). A woman from a well-off merchant family, on the other hand, had to persuade her husband to issue her with one, or have her family persuade him, if she wished to end the marriage. If her husband was unwilling to issue one, the only option available to her was to approach a divorce temple, in the hope that the male temple officials could negotiate a divorce on her behalf.

Basically, the temple's role was to persuade the husband to issue a divorce letter. The officials relied heavily upon the temple's reputation and power to impress upon the husband his duty to release his wife. Should the officials fail, they then approached the shogunate's Magistrates of Temples and Shrines to force the husband to comply, though this was seen as a last resort.

Between 1762 and 1803, Mantokuji's process was as follows. When the woman arrived at the temple, her hair was cut. She was then expected to serve as a nun for three years, after which time her husband was expected to issue her with a writ of divorce. If he refused to do so, the magistrates were involved. This added a further two years to her term, but after completing the full five years her husband would be ordered to issue the writ under threat of imprisonment. From 1804, the length of service as a nun was reduced to twenty-five months, and a woman could leave the temple early if her husband agreed to issue a writ before her full term had been served. She was then free to remarry. While in service, the woman was required to carry out the duties of a nun; the acquisition of a temple divorce relied upon a good report being issued at the end of her term concerning her behaviour during her stay.

Tōkeiji's process was slightly different in that once the magistrates became involved the woman would have to serve the full term, regardless of whether or not her husband issued a writ during that time.

One way to speed up the process, if a husband was reluctant to issue a writ, was for the woman's family to offer him a cash settlement. Given that the daily expenses of the woman, such as food and clothing, would also have to be met by her family during her term within the temple, divorce was an expensive matter.

What about the children? Well, women had no legal right to custody. If the husband agreed, the wife would be allowed to keep female children, but not males. If the wife was pregnant during the divorce process, the baby when born, if it were a boy, would have been taken by its father. With the husband's consent, a female baby could be given to its mother.

A Japanese bride, albumen cabinet card, c. 1890-1910.