Early summer rains – water and weather in swordsmanship

Travellers sheltering from the rain

‘This endless rain’ wrote Ki no Tsurayuki in the 10th century in a poem about the rainy season. This is a sentiment shared by many in Japan at this time of year, although as that season, exceptionally short this year, ended more than two weeks ago, perhaps less so than usual. Nevertheless, I seem to have been dodging sudden downpours ever since – what is known here as guerilla rain – culminating in heavy rain last week on the very day of the Gion Matsuri procession, when richly decorated wooden floats, some weighing several tons, are pulled through the streets of downtown Kyoto. I’m sure many of those involved in the festival could sympathize with Ki no Tsurayuki’s feelings.

It rains elsewhere, of course, but Japan seems particularly well supplied in this respect. The country is criss-crossed with streams and rivers (often concreted over in the cities) with many, like the gentle Kamogawa which runs through Kyoto, transformed into raging torrents after heavy rain. In times gone by, people must have been acutely aware of the power and danger of these natural forces.

My local stream on a rainy day

It is hardly surprising, then, that they worked their way into the martial disciplines of the time, serving as metaphors for changeability, flow, power and softness. Miyamoto Musashi wrote of water as representing the clarity of his teachings, as well as the key principle of adaptability. In this case, he used the example of the way water can adapt to the shape of its container, as well as the many forms it can appear in. ‘Take water,’ he said, ‘as the model for my school of strategy.’

Although a closer reading doesn’t offer much more specifically on the topic, it is this kind of passage that is suggestive of the depth of his studies and the way in which he intended them to be applied. We can infer that the subsequent techniques are really strategies or tactics that should be applied in a range of situations. And given his statement that he didn’t believe in inner and outer teachings, which is to say ‘secrets’ that were taught to some of his students and not to others, these may be seen as key aspects of his art. 

A detail from a print by Toyokuni showing Musashi fighting
the evil monk, Kainen (from the popular novel A Tale of Two
Swords - Sasaki Miyamoto Eiyo Nito den). Note the water themed background.

To take this further, we have to look at the way concepts are embodied in kata practice in other schools. There is a tendency in Japanese culture not to explain, but to have students repeat their actions until they get it – or not, as the case may be. Those who are familiar with Japanese arts and crafts may well have seen this – it is not limited to martial arts – and there seems to have been a general feeling that this combination of dedication and single-minded striving is the ‘correct’ path to developing skill. It enables practitioners to feel the skill in their body. If that is the way you have developed it yourself, it is probably not easy to conceptualise it verbally, especially in a culture given to vagueness and allusion in its language.

These arts contain a range of strategic and tactical principles that are largely hidden within the movements of the kata. Master practitioners might embody these principles naturally, or they might have been revealed more explicitly to students at the higher levels.

Musashi, then, in observing the nature of water, it’s clarity, mutability, and ability to take on the shape of its container, tells us that the spirit of his art, or his art itself, is present in every move. His pointing to the clarity of water indicates that these deeper principles are there to be seen, not hidden in the kata (unlike, he suggests, most other schools of his time).

It is tempting to read into Musashi’s words that his approach was to explain the concepts as he introduced the techniques to his students, and this might, indeed, be so. One thing that we can be sure about, however, is that he would have required a lot of unforgiving practice to ensure these principles were really reflected in the techniques.

While water is related to flow and change, related phenomena such as mist or fog (kasumi) and thunder also figure in martial lore. Mist indicates things that may be hidden or unclear – in a country as full of mountains as this, often partially obscured by mist or approaching rain, perhaps it is no wonder that this was used as a metaphor (though by no means universal); lightning refers to techniques that strike with extreme speed, usually directly downwards, a cutting through of distractions or barriers.

Familiarity with these elements was a kind of cultural literacy, useful as an aide memoire, but perhaps more so in pointing towards the deeper secrets of the energies of the natural world, energies that were surely recognised and utilized in the disciplines of war. Though these were largely concepts involving patterns of movement, rhythm and mindset, they could also be more esoteric. One of the more interesting techniques involved a way of reading the ki of a situation based on visual clues. This is illustrated in old manuals like mist rising above the mountains or enemy encampments, but the details of how this was perceived and trained remain obscure. 

 

This text shows two kinds of ki - the one on the left is roki – if 'smoke' is broken and and does not rise gradually ... it is defeat; it is weakness; it is evil. The other, ritsuki, shows the 'smoke' rising straight, without a break. the commentary explains that this is a great blessing for all things. Although the text talks about 'smoke', this is not meant literally.

Those techniques may have been lost, but weather continues to feature strongly in Japan’s cultural consciousness. Rain has been used to particularly good effect in the film world, where it is used both to highlight and increase emotional tension, and here, Kurosawa is the master. The final battle in The Seven Samurai is a case in point, but it also goes beyond the creation of heightened drama to create its own distinct aesthetic. It plays an important part in other movies of this genre - Rashomon comes to mind, but more familiar to many in the western audience would be the scene in The Last Samurai where Tom Cruise is soundly beaten by Hiroyuki Sanada, and in doing so, earns his grudging respect. While the aesthetic effect is not as strong as in Kurosawa’s work, its use to heighten tension and mark the significance of an event is similar.

From Rashomon, Kurosawa's first use of rain as a dramatic element

Now, as we approach August, and the heat of summer is truly with us, we might wish for a bit more of that rain from time to time. But not too much of it – the typhoon season is only just around the corner!

Short Swords - tantô-chokunyû (単刀直入) – getting straight to the point

 

Still from the movie Sekigahara (2017) – good use of a short sword.

The katana is, perhaps, the sword most closely associated with the samurai, but it is worth remembering that the short sword was a consistent part of the equipment of the bushi class throughout their history, and the exclusive right to bear two swords became a defining privilege of that class during the Tokugawa period. It was worn in many situations where the longsword would typically not be worn for reasons of practicality or security, yet it typically formed a lesser part of a warrior’s training.

One of the memorable chapters in the Heike Monogatari has Taira Tadamori show his cunning and foresight to foil an assassination attempt in the palace precincts by displaying a short sword to dissuade his would-be attackers.

 Swords seemed to have been central to training in many schools of bujutsu, although it is generally acknowledged that other weapons were more widely used on the battlefield. Swords had a deep cultural resonance going beyond mere practicality, also having religious and ceremonial uses, and perhaps this was why they were used as a vehicle for technical and theoretical development of basic principles and skills of combat that could be applied to a number of weapons.

 Nevertheless, specific skills for using the short sword were taught, often in conjunction with jujutsu or similar techniques of body control. The short sword was especially effective in situations where space was limited (such as indoors) or where surprise was a key element. Control of distance and line of attack were especially important, and the ease with which a short sword may be wielded with one hand leaves the other free for controlling the opponent.

 

The inherent disadvantage of the short sword when facing longer weapons could also be used to refine certain skills. Toda Seigen, reputedly the teacher of Sasaki Kojiro, Miyamoto Musashi’s famous opponent, was famous for his use of the short sword. Kojiro developed his skills with the extra-long sword from being a junior training partner for Toda as he further refined his short sword skills. (If you're interested, I wrote some more about that here).

Similarly, some two hundred years later, the eccentric swordsman Hirayama Kozo had his own students train in the short sword while facing an opponent with an extra-long sword to develop their spirit.

 

Hirayama wrote:

My swordsmanship is for slaying the enemy brutally. You must use this feeling of ferocity to penetrate directly into the enemy’s heart and mind. (Kensetsu – Sword theory)

 

Interestingly, one of his students had the chance to test this with a master of the Fuden Ryu, Kawakami Danemon, who came to try his skills against Hirayama. This Fuden Ryu, which has connections with the Asayama Ichiden Ryu (which has lately become well-known on Youtube), also has interesting teachings regarding the short sword, perhaps stemming from the teachings of the founder, who was a bodyguard for Tokugawa Ieyasu.

 

In this case, Hirayama was out, so his student, Soma Daisaku, took the challenge. The challenger used a long sword (the account I read says it was 6 foot shinai, although I assume the original measurement was shaku) while Daisaku had a short shinai - 1 shaku 3 sun (about 15 inches) in length. They faced off but Daisaku gradually forced his opponent back. When his opponent tried to counter, Daisaku’s thrust sent him into the wall. (I also wrote about Hirayama and Daisaku here.)

 

The sword in a red saya is Daisaku's normal sword
The longer one is an extra large one he used for practice.
Courtesy of https://japanbujut.exblog.jp/24646197/

(This is to say nothing of the relative merits of the two schools per se. There is still a school of the Fuden Ryu, though this is not to be confused with the sojutsu school of the same name – the two are written with different characters).

 

While I'm on the subject, the short sword also plays an important part in my new novel, Fallen Blossom, Book 2 of the Oshima Tokyo Noir series. 

If you like murder, mystery and martial arts, and a bit of not too distant history – it’s set in 1930’s Tokyo – this could be the book for you! It’s available as an ebook on most major online book sellers, including Apple Books, Kobo and Amazon, from today (May 20^th) and it’s at a discount price until May 27^th.

This link will take you to the non-Amazon sites (and probably Amazon after today).

Fallen Blossom

 

If you shop at Amazon.com, this link will take you direct to the page. 

Fallen Blossom on Amazon.com

For those of you who prefer paper, the paperback will be coming soon.

Finally, tantô-chokunyû 

This is an expression that literally means to go straight into the enemy (troops, camp) singlehanded, but tanto (単刀) -single sword - is also a homonym for tanto (短刀) - short sword, so it seemed appropriate for this post. In common use it means to 'get straight to the point', surely something users of a short sword would want to do.

Decoding Armored Combat - the NHK Way

I try not to spend too much time scrolling through online feeds, but like most of us, I suspect, I often find myself doing it more than I would like, especially these days, when the the news seems to propel us from one disaster to the next. Sometimes, however, something a bit more interesting crops up. 

In this case, it was courtesy of NHK World, and was a combination of a broadcast TV programme (for the domestic Japanese audience) and a section with a foreign panel, two of whom, Alexander Bennett and Christopher Glenn, know their stuff with regards to Japanese martial arts and armour (Akino Roza, the other panelist, has more general cultural knowledge). At about 30 minutes, the programme is a reasonable length to make it worth watching, and I think there is something in there for the lay person and enthusiast alike. I have been around Japanese martial arts for a good number of years, but I certainly got something out of it.

https://www3.nhk.or.jp/nhkworld/en/shows/5001439/?cid=wohk-fb-org_vod_5001439_dps-202502-001

I am putting the link here, but it will only be available till September 2025, which seems like a long way off now, but for anyone reading after that date, I’m going to describe some of the parts I found more interesting below.

The action begins sometime around the three minute mark, with a demonstration of how spears were used in military formations. Although I have seen some people bitterly protest about the use of spears as, basically, striking weapons which would be raised and then used to strike from above rather than as pointy sticks, the weight of informed opinion seems to be that this was common practice during the Sengoku period (when spears became one of the principal weapons on the battlefield. Indeed, you can well believe that training men to use the spear this way would have been very time efficient.

Anyway, there is a demonstration of the power this technique can produce (yes, we all know boards don’t fight back, but illustrative, all the same). The higher level version of this is also interesting – the use of the flex of the spear shaft is not usually shown in Japanese systems, whereas it is a common feature (sometimes unrealistically so) in Chinese systems, both for usage and also training purposes. I have some experience of Japanese spears, and the shafts certainly do have a certain amount of flexibility – the one used in this demonstration was quite long, and I think that length is certainly an important consideration for this kind of technique. Many Japanese spearheads have a triangular cross-section, which makes them especially suitable for this bludgeoning type of attack. Other types would most likely have been used differently.

Any way, you can see the flex here:

A couple of other points that were interesting were presented in the discussion of foreign the foreign panel. In particular, I found the point about the overlap of armour particularly interesting – the cuirass wrapped around the body with the back overlapping the front on one side. This seems counter-intuitive: a spear thrust might get caught rather than glancing off, for example (although that in itself could be further examined). However, an overlap to the back would also provide a grip for an opponent if they came into grappling range, something you certainly wouldn’t want.

A cuirass showing the overlap coming from behind.

Moving on, there is also a section on using weapons on horseback, and you get to see the stubby Japanese ponies that were common in those days. There is also a section on Shosho Ryu Yawarajutsu – an early type of jujutsu. This is interesting as preserving aspects that involved fighting an armoured opponent. Many Japanese schools preserve this aspect to a greater or smaller degree – there are several interesting videos online showing techniques from Tenshin Shoden Katori Ryu that many people are probably familiar with – so this may not be new to you, but it is quite interesting all the same. 

An illustration by Oscar Ratti from his well-known book. The illustrations were an important part of the book and certainly added colour and atmosphere, despite certain artistic liberties. Of course, something like this is pure fantasy ... or maybe not?

As well as younger, more mobile members of his dojo, the 87 year old headmaster of the style demonstrates some of the techniques, including kicking someone wearing armour, which is worth seeing.

A well- produced documentary with something for everyone – at least, those who are interested in those kinds of things!  

Duel in the Snow - The Sword of Doom

The snow yesterday (not so common these days, and comparatively light compared to much of the rest of the country) reminded me of this classic scene from the film, The Sword of Doom, one of the several versions of the multi-volume novel by Nakazato Kaizan, Daibosatsu Toge – Great Buddha Pass, but arguably the best. (The others do have their good points, though). 

 

The sword master, Shimada Toranosuke, played here by Toshiro Mifune, (I have written his name the English way, but all the other names here are written surname first) is attacked mistakenly on his way back from a friend’s house. The attackers realise they have the wrong man, but make the mistake of pressing on with the attack regardless. This may be one of Mifune’s best appearances as a swordmaster (admittedly, the role is quite minor) but he plays it to perfection. 

You can watch the clip here:  https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x3ev4e0

Mifune was a great actor, and he knew how to look the part, but if you want to see someone who actually knew how to use a sword, the same role was taken in two earlier versions of the same story (Sword in the Moonlight was the English title, I believe) by the veteran actor Tsukigata Ryunosuke (see the photos below), who had trained in a branch of the Shinkage Ryu, – the Jikishinkage Ryu was Shimada’s own school.

 

Although the main character of this story, Tsukue Ryunosuke, was fictional, Shimada Toranosuke was not. He was one of the strongest swordsmen of his day, and his lines about the connection between the sword and the mind are famous today in kendo dojo: 

The sword is the mind; 

If the mind is correct, the sword will be correct. 

If the mind is not correct, the sword will not be correct. 

He who would study the sword must first study the mind. 

Mind – kokoro – while basically meaning ‘way of thinking’ also has connotations of attitude and an almost moral dimension, as indeed, is made clear by his final comment in this film clip: “a sword which is not correct is an evil sword.” This, of course, refers to the swordsman.

As well as his skills with the sword Shimada was known for his upright character. It is perhaps worth noting that the original target of the assassination in this scene was Kiyokawa Hachiro, who often gets short shrift from Shinsengumi fans but was known as a Confucian scholar as well as a swordsman and is considered by some to have suffered from bad press), and his companion for part of the journey (in a different palanquin) is the famous spearman Takahashi Deishu – also known for his extremely virtuous character and his skill with the spear – the two were, in fact, friends, and Kiyokawa was later assassinated after leaving Deishu’s house. 

The leader of the assassins in this scene is Hijikata Toshizo, one of the more well-known and popular members of the Shinsengumi, and it is interesting how easily he is handled by Shimada, despite his reputation as ‘Demon Hijikata’. 

 

Nakazato Kaizan was himself a man of some principle, refusing to join the pro-military writers’ group, Nihon Bungaku Hokoku-kai, during the war, and casting the Shinsengumi in an unflattering light is telling. Mind you, with a ‘hero’ like Tsukue Ryunosuke, you can tell there are going to be more than a few moral grey areas.

For interests sake, here is a (very) short excerpt from the novel just before Shimada is attacked in his palanquin. I hope it gives something of the flavour of Nakazato’s writing:

A swordmaster of the highest level naturally has powers far beyond the ordinary. On the way, Shimada Toranosuke felt a sudden suspicious presence, and though he had not expected that the Shinchogumi would send such elite troops, he readied for an attack, leaning against the back of the palanquin in preparation for a sword thrust to the space in front of him (where a passenger would normally sit). 

By the time Hijikata called out to wait, he had already tied back his sleeves and dampened the mekugi of his beloved sword, forged by Saburo Shizu. When the attack came, he drew and cut with a single slash from under the sword that had pierced the empty space he had left, severing the leg of one of the black-clad swordsmen who had been waiting, and shot out.

Unfortunately, there’s not an awful lot of information on Shimada in English, although anyone who has played the fairly recent game Rise of the Ronin will probably be familiar with him (and all the others mentioned above). 

Alas, games are not one of the things I have time for these days, but I must admit I learnt a lot from them way back when – of course, it was all pen and paper in those days.

After the Dragon: Enter the Snake - Japanese New Year 2025

 

So an old year leaves and a new one comes around. And in Japan that means the start of a new animal year according to the Chinese zodiac (yes, from January 1st, which might not be quite in line with the Chinese world, but is a tradition that has been going for the last 150 years or so). This year, 2025, is the Year of the Snake.

In Japan, like many other cultures, snakes tend not to be popular animals, but they command a sense of respect as well as fear – they can be divine messengers, as well as representing the dangerous and uncontrollable forces of nature. Their physical nature - the ability to shed their skin, their poisonous bite point towards other symbolic aspects such as renewal on the positive side, and malice on the not so positive.

Alas for this blog, there seems to be little overt connection to traditional martial arts in Japan –not the case in China, for example, where snakes and snake style movement feature in a number of styles. There is certainly a tradition of respect - snakes were revered at certain shrines, avoided when traveling in the mountains (although there seems generally to have been a prohibition against killing them) and even today you may still hear the old wisdom that one is not supposed to whistle at night for fear of attracting them. Snakes were not, however, common motifs for samurai or thematically embodied in their traditions.

As one of the animals of the Chinese zodiac, snakes do crop up in art, although they are not as common as many other animals. The white snakes used for many New Year decorations are auspicious - sometime divine messengers, they are often associated with the goddess Benzaiten. Nowadays, they are often depicted curled up, and here incorporating the mochi rice cakes that are often used as New Year decorations, looking cute but not particularly snakey. In the past, artists felt more comfortable with a more naturalistic representation, as you can see from the painting at the top of the page by Hokusai.

On the other hand, there is quite a selection of giant snakes (known as uwabami) to be found in ukiyo-e prints, as sinuous as you could hope for, usually locked in battle with a variety of brave heroes. Here is one such uwabami pre-encounter, once again by Hokusai.

 One of these, Heita Tanenaga, a real life 13th century samurai, seems to have made something of a career taking on these monster snakes, with tales telling of at least five different encounters. Utagawa Kuniyoshi’s dynamic style was well-suited to depicting such encounters, and strongly influenced other artists in their approach.

 but Hokusai who could turn his brush towards almost anything, was clearly not to be outdone.

I have seen such tussles explained as (a subconscious depiction of) the struggle of the upper and lower selves, the earthly and divine sides of our natures, and it’s easy to see where the snake fits in here. It seems nicely ‘symbolic’, but I wouldn’t necessarily dismiss it completely as there is something deeply attractive about such themes, something that you might be expected to grow out of (like superhero movies) but which many people do not.

Speaking of esoterica, snakes were also popularly associated with magic and the dark side of spirituality in novels and theatre in the Edo Period, and you can see these in prints as well. Here is Kidomaru engaged in his esoteric arts. 

Interestingly, some schools of bujutsu also incorporated aspects of these arts (and still do to some extent). Of these, perhaps the best known is Tenshin Shinden Katori Shinto Ryu; there are others. Some regard esoteric training as psychology, whereas others see the training as having a somewhat different flavour, enabling access to something beyond the merely human. The Japanese tend not to like categorically falling in one camp or another on many issues, but I have found that the world of spirits is one that is not dismissed lightly here. You may feel a little reassured to reflect that the swordsmen in the stories were not outmatched by sorcery – the strength of spirit from their training was a match for their opponents.

An unusual painting - I'm not sure just where it's from - it looks
like a picture scroll involving the zodiac animals up to more of their zany antics.

 

I’ll leave you with another rather unusual painting, once again by Hokusai, of a snake and dragon, painted as a lantern. If I recall correctly, it was painted for a business, in Fukugawa in Edo. This area was also known as Tatsumi, which meant south-east, as the area lay in the south east of the city. It is also a play on the place name, as ‘tatsu’ means dragon, and ‘mi’ is an alternative pronunciation for the word snake.

Happy New Year 2025!

The military rake in times of peace – from the battlefield to civilian protection – part 2

 

A real antique kumade - this one was more than  260cm long

We looked at the military rake (kumade) last month, so now it’s time to see how it fared after the long centuries of war came to an end. Perhaps it was its utility that doomed it in the field of war – It didn’t have much mystique or status as a weapon, did not seem particularly attached to any social or military group (unlike the masakari or long handled axe, for example, which was long associated with yamabushi), and without anywhere to realise its use as a weapon, people forgot how useful it could be, and little more is seen or heard of it…as such. 

A modern day yamabushi with a masakari

 

(image courtesy of Trip Advisor)

 

While it doesn’t seem that the kumade made the transition as a weapon into the relatively peaceful Edo period, several weapons were used in civil defense/law enforcement that involved entangling and immobilizing an opponent. These were the triad of sasumata, sodegarami and tsukubo (there are several alternative names, but these are the most common – the fork, the sleeve entangler and the push pole. Matsura Seizan, for example, calls them the sasumata, hineri and shumoku). They were categorized as implements or tools rather than weapons, but their array of short spikes, partly to deter grabbing, would have been capable of causing significant damage, as well as helping to catch and entangle clothing. If you get the chance to see them close up, there is no doubt that you wouldn’t want the business end of any of them near you. 

sasumata

sodegarami

tsukubo

In their use, they could very well have replicated the hooking functions of the rake, and perhaps they were more suitable for use against unarmoured opponents. There doesn’t seem to be much in the way of techniques for these implements that have been passed down, though there are several videos online of people using them in more or less plausible ways. 

I would think that anyone reasonably well-versed in the use of pole arms (and jujutsu, perhaps, given their use for restraint) could come up with similar techniques. 

These were not the only tools used to subdue unruly lawbreakers. Anyone who has seen the classic film, Daisatsujin Orochi, starring Ichikawa Raizo, will surely remember the scene where the lone swordsman is confronted by a crowd of constables who attempt to capture him using ropes, doors two-wheeled wooden wagons and ladders (as well was some of the more usual implements just visible in the bottom of the frame below. (This is well worth watching in any case – one of my favourite Japanese movies. it's English title is The Betrayal).

A still from Daisatsujin Orochi - the hero is in the centre - note the the tsukubo and sasumata at the bottom of the frame.

A slightly less conventional law enforcement tool

Though this approach may seem to be a relic of the past, a modern iteration of the sasumata is still a common piece of equipment in schools (and police stations) in Japan (and also in China apparently – I saw one in evidence in a news report about one of the recent mass stabbing incidents) and has occasionally been deployed successfully. It offers the ability to hold off a knife wielding attacker while remaining at a safe distance. Techniques have been designed to give it more flexibility in use, and it looks as if it could, indeed, be quite effective, especially if it is part of a coordinated effort involving several people. An ideal version is depicted in the picture below. 

 

Teachers training with sasumata

 Here is a link to a video showing training in a supermarket:

https://youtu.be/WtdCxgmqDI4

Note the use of supermarket trolleys, too!

However, as always, the reality of an attack is likely to be quite different from practice. It would require a cool head to use it well against a knife wielding assailant, and, perhaps because of its success in being sold as such a practical response to a knife attack, there has been some criticism of its effectiveness. These criticisms stress the relative ease with which the knife wielder could catch hold of the head, either to twist it around so they can get past, or, by grabbing both prongs, take control of it. (As someone holding the two prongs has a mechanical advantage over someone just holding the shaft, this is quite possible.) The lack of spikes in the centre of the ‘u’ section, a feature in some ‘samurai period’ sasumata also means that there is nothing to stop the aggressor pushing back directly against the force of the defender, possibly forcing the defender to drop the sasumata or risk being cut. 

I like pole weapons but space limitations in Japan means I haven’t had the chance to practice with them as often as I would like. The modern sasumata certainly seems like something it would be fun to play around with.

On a final note, although the sasumata is designed to immobilize an attacker, that is not the only way of using it. The video below shows the owner of a jewelers shop in Tokyo using it successfully as a club in the most basic of ways – and it worked.

https://youtu.be/q1vwgwi-k9Y?si=9_Xv-ugJsCjvXLz9