by Osamu Dazai
One example is a riot of the Tsugaru Ezo triggered by internal strife in one family of the Ando clan. Among the Tsugaru people, according to A Brief History of Aomori Prefecture by Takeuchi Umpei:
… strife in the Ando clan led to riots in the eight provinces of Kanto and became 'the beginning of the crisis that would alter life in heaven and on earth' noted in the historical record Houjou Kudai-ki (A Record of the Nine Generations of the Houjou) and led to the Genko Incident and the restoration during the Kenmu era (1333-1336).
Perhaps, it should be counted as one of the remote causes of that major undertaking. In truth, Tsugaru affected, although slight, the politics of central Japan. The discord in the Ando clan must be a glorious record deserving special mention in the history of Tsugaru.
The area near the Pacific Ocean in today's Aomori Prefecture was Ezo land long known as Nukanobu. After the Kamakura period, the Nanbu clan, a branch of the Takeda clan in Koshu, migrated here and became powerful, and after the Yoshino and Muromachi eras passed, achieved unification of the entire country under Hideyoshi. Tsugaru fought Nanbu. In place of the Ando clan, the Tsugaru clan was established in Tsugaru and somehow calmed the entire province of Tsugaru. In the twelfth generation of the Tsugaru clan during the Meiji Restoration, the feudal lord Tsuguakira respectfully ceded the domain to the emperor. That's an outline of the history of Tsugaru. There are various theories about remote ancestors of this Tsugaru clan.
Professor Kita also touched on this.
In Tsugaru, the Ando clan fell. The Tsugaru clan gained independence and was long viewed as the enemy by the Nanbu clan. Their domain abutted the boundary with the Nanbu clan. The Tsugaru clan was said to descend from Konoe Hisamichi, a chief adviser to the emperor, or may be a branch of the Nanbu clan or descendants of the second son Hideshige of Fujiwara Motohira or a branch family in the Ando clan.
Also, Takeuchi Umpei explained the following about this issue.
The Nanbu family and the Tsugaru family passed through and felt great alienation the entire time. The origin of the above was the Nanbu clan considered the Tsugaru clan to be enemies of their ancestors for appropriating their former fief. The Tsugaru clan was originally a branch of the Nanbu and resisted the lord from the ranks of low-level government officials. On the other hand, the Tsugaru clan claimed the Fujiwara clan as their ancestors and emphasized the addition of the bloodlines of the Konoe clan even in medieval times.
In fact, Nanbu Takanobu was overthrown to benefit Tsugaru Tamenobu and had various castles seized in the southern part of Tsugaru. The mothers of the ancestors of Oura Mitsunobu for several generations of Tamenobu were women with the pedigree of Nanbu Kuji Bizen-no-kami and the next few generations had the courtesy title of Nanbu Shinano-no-kami. It's reasonable to believe these women harbored hatred toward the Tsugaru family of the Nanbu clan as traitors. The Tsugaru family searched for distant ancestors among the Fujiwara and Konoe clans. In the present day, convincing foundational proof does not necessarily exist.
Feeble arguments are presented as in the Record of Kasoku that does not defend the Nanbu clan. As the Record of the Takaya Clan long ago states about Tsugaru, the Oura clan is a branch family of the Nanbu clan. Kidate's Diary also states "The families of Nanbu and Tsugaru become one body." In contrast to recently-published books like Tokushi Biyou (A History Reader) that state Tamenobu lived as part of the Kuji clan (family in the Nanbu clan), data does not exist today to verify the correctness of this assertion. However, the Nanbu have lineage in Tsugaru in the past. Even as low-ranking government officials, it cannot be said there is no history from any perspective other than the family line.
Similar to this statement from Professor Kita, a firm conclusion is avoided. I mentioned at the beginning of this chapter for reference what is stipulated directly and unequivocally by the Nihon Daihyakka Daijiten (The Great Encyclopedia of Japan).
The above description flowed, but on a closer look, Tsugaru has an insignificant existence from the perspective of Japan as a whole. In Oku no Hosomichi (Narrow Road to the Deep North) by Basho, he writes of his departure, "Thoughts of traveling three thousand ri before me fills my heart." North was Hiraizumi at that time and is no further than the southern edge of Iwate Prefecture today. It would take twice as much walking to reach Aomori Prefecture. Tsugaru is one peninsula on the Sea of Japan side of Aomori Prefecture. The Tsugaru of old was centered on the Tsugaru Plain that extended along the Iwaki River flowing over sixty miles; to the east were Aomori and the Asamushi area; to the west were the shores on the Sea of Japan; the north went down along the shore to the Fukaura area; and the south probably reached Hirosaki.
The Kuroishi clan, a branch family, lived in the south and had a tradition of independence as the Kuroishi clan in this area and encouraged what could be called a cultural temperament different from that of the Tsugaru clan. Now, in the north is Tappi and its narrowness is disheartening. It's reasonable for Tappi to go unmentioned in the history of central Japan. I spent the night in an inn deep in the north in Narrow Road to the Deep North. The next day, the boat didn't leave port. The road I walked the previous day took me to Minmaya. I ate lunch there then returned by bus to N's home in Kanita. On foot, Tsugaru isn't so small.
About noon two days later, I left Kanita alone by ferry and arrived at Aomori Port at three in the afternoon. I traveled by the Ou line to Kawabe, changed to the Gono Line, arrived in Goshogawara around five, and immediately took the Tsugaru Railway north over the Tsugaru Plain. The light was already dim when I arrived in Kanagi, the place of my birth. Kanita and Kanagi are a distance from each other and follow one side of a rectangle. Lying between them is the Bonjusan mountain range where nothing resembled a path. There's no choice but to take a huge detour along the other three sides of the rectangle. I arrived at my birth home and first went to the Buddhist altar room. My older brother's wife came with me and opened wide the door to the altar room. For a time, I gazed at the photographs of my parents on the altar and respectfully bowed. Then I went to the family sitting room to greet my sister-in-law again.
"When did you leave Tokyo?" she asked.
A few days before leaving Tokyo, I sent a postcard to my sister-in-law stating that I was thinking about touring Tsugaru and planning to stop by Kanagi to visit my parents' graves and hoped that wouldn't be an imposition.
"About a week ago. I was delayed on the eastern shore. N from Kanita was a great help."
She must know about N and said, "Oh, I see. I received your postcard and wondered if something had happened and worried when you didn't appear. Yoko and Mitsu have been waiting for you and went to the railway station every day. In the end, someone became cross and said she wouldn't notice even if you came."
Yoko is the oldest daughter of my oldest brother. About six months earlier she married into the family of a landowner near Hirosaki but visited Kanagi from time to time with her groom. The couple was visiting at that time. Mitsu is the youngest daughter of my oldest sister. Still unmarried, she always comes to help at the house in Kanagi and is an obedient child. These two nieces clinging to each other came laughing cheerfully to greet their uncle, the undisciplined drinker. Yoko looked like a student and not in the least like someone's wife.
"You look ridiculous," they immediately said and laughed at my clothes.
"You dopes. This is popular in Tokyo."
Assisted by my sister-in-law, my grandmother appeared. She was eighty-eight.
"Oh wonderful, you came. You came," she shouted. She was energetic although she looked weak shuffling in.
"What shall we do?" asked my sister-in-law looking at me, "Shall we eat here? The others are on the second floor."
Yoko's groom was seated between my two oldest brothers. They were just starting to drink on the second floor.
How much etiquette is maintained among brothers? And what degree of candidness and rudeness is acceptable? I still have no idea.
"Would it be a problem if I went upstairs?"
I thought it'
d be unpleasant if I drank beer here alone and would look meek.
"Either is fine," she said smiling then gave an order to the young women, "Well, take the cups upstairs."
Wearing my jacket, I went upstairs to the nicest room with golden papered sliding doors. My brothers were quietly drinking when I made my noisy entrance.
"Hello, I'm Shuji. Pleased to meet you."
First, I greeted the groom then apologized to my brothers for being away for so long. Both brothers gave a short grunt and nodded in consent. That is the way in our family. No, you could say it's the way in Tsugaru. I'm used to it. Mitsu and my sister-in-law calmly poured sake into the cups, and I drank the sake in silence. The son-in-law was sitting behind the alcove post, and his face was flushed bright red. My brothers had always been strong drinkers but seemed much weaker.
"Here, would you like more?"
"No, I'm fine, thank you."
"And you?"
In this way, we politely went back and forth. After my wild drinking in Sotogahama, coming here was like entering the Palace of the Sea God or a different world. I was shocked and nervous about the gulf between the lives of my brothers and mine.
"Shall we have the crabs later?" whispered my sister-in-law. I brought crabs as a gift from Kanita.
"Uh."
I hesitated because crabs are a little too rustic for the elegant bowls. My sister-in-law may have felt the same.
"Crabs?" asked my oldest brother, "Don't worry. Bring them. And bring napkins."
The mood that night might have been pleasant in the absence of my brothers and the son-in-law.
The crabs arrived.
"Please, help yourself," my oldest brother offered them first to the son-in-law and shelled the crabs.
I sighed with relief.
"Excuse me, but who are you?" the son-in-law asked me with an innocent, smiling look on his face. I was startled but immediately reconsidered and found the question understandable.
"Oh, you see, I am the brother after Eiji (the name of my second oldest brother)," I said smiling but was disheartened. I felt craven by having to use Eiji's name. I gauged Eiji's reaction, but he looked indifferent and I felt cut adrift. No, that's not true, I sat relaxed and had Mitsu pour more beer for me.
The mood in my home in Kanagi is mental fatigue. I will be unable to write about this later. A man burdened by the bad karma of writing about his relatives and then not being able to sell the manuscript is gifted by the gods with this birthplace. In the end, I nap in a hovel in Tokyo and longed to see the dreams of home. I'll probably linger here and there and then die.
The next day, it rained. I got up and went to my oldest brother's drawing room. He was showing the son-in-law a picture. The golden folding screen had two parts decorated with elegant scenes. On one was drawn a wild cherry blossom tree. On the other was the landscape of the countryside. I saw the artist's seal and signature but couldn't read them.
"Who's this by?" I timidly asked while blushing.
"Suian," said my brother.
"Suian," I said still clueless.
"You don't know him?" said my brother, calmly without scolding, "He is the father of Hyakusui."
"Really?"
Of course, I heard that the father of Hirafuku Hyakusui was an artist but did not know the father Suisan drew such fine pictures. It's not that I don't like paintings. I'm not knowledgeable about paintings. I don't hate them. No, if I hate anything, it is my intention to become an authority. My great blunder was I never heard of Suian. My eyes saw the folding screen and I was in awe. If I whispered Suian, my brother may have viewed me differently. I regret asking, "Who's this by?" in a dopey voice. I agonized over the fact that could not be undone. Taking no notice of me, my brother said quietly to the son-in-law, "He's a celebrated artist in Akita."
"You could say he is like Ayatari of Tsugaru," I said timidly to redeem my honor and to flatter. The painters of Tsugaru are in the same class as Ayatari. In fact, on an earlier visit to Kanagi, my brother showed me a painting by Ayatari he owned. That was the first time I knew Tsugaru had an artist this great.
"Well, he's different," said my brother sounding completely uninterested and sat on a chair. The son-in-law and I stood gazing at the paintings on the folding screen, but my brother took a seat. The son-in-law sat in the opposite chair. I sat on the sofa beside the door a slight distance away.
"This man, it seems, has this as his main theme," said my brother to the son-in-law of course. My brother rarely spoke directly to me.
With him saying this, given his feelings on the significance of Ayatari, he seemed a little troubled by Ayatari's work falling into simple folk art.
"What is cultural tradition?" asked my brother as he rounded his back and stared at the son-in-law, "Naturally, the roots are deep in Akita."
"Is Tsugaru bad?"
No matter what I said, the result was awkward, and I gave up and talked to myself.
My brother surprised me with a question, "What will you write about Tsugaru this time?"
"Oh, well, I don't know much about Tsugaru," I said stumbling, "Are there any good reference books?"
"Let's see," said my brother smiling, "I have little interest in local history."
"There are probably popular guidebooks about famous sites in Tsugaru. I know absolutely nothing."
"No. None," said my brother shaking his head and smiling as though appalled by my carelessness.
He stood and said to the son-in-law, "I'll be going to the agricultural association for a while to consult some books. The weather will get worse today," then he left.
"Is it busy at the agricultural association around this time of year?" I asked the son-in-law.
"Yes, quite busy. Right now, they're determining the delivery quota for rice," said the son-in-law.
Although young, he was a landowner and well versed in this field. He explained various detailed numbers to me, but I couldn't grasp half of it.
"These days, I don't think seriously about rice. In this age, I gaze alternating between joy and sorrow at the rice fields from the train window as if they were mine. It's been a bit chilly until now this year, so has the rice been planted?"
My habit is to brandish my superficial knowledge at experts.
"It will be all right. If it gets cold around now, it will be cold, and the measures to take will be considered. The seedlings are sprouting normally."
"Is that so?" I said nodding and trying to look like I understood, "My knowledge was gained only from staring at the Tsugaru Plain yesterday from the train window. Now does tilling with horses leave plowing the field to the horse? It often appears to be left to oxen. When I was young, not only horses tilled, but handcarts were used. Everything was done by horses; the oxen helped but almost never plowed. When I first went to Tokyo, I saw oxen pulling carts. It was a strange sight."
"That's true. Horses have become scarce. Most were sent to war. This may be related to the ease of raising cattle. But from the perspective of work efficiency, oxen have half the efficiency of horses, no, it's probably much, much worse."
"Going off to war, have you…"
"Me? I've already received two warrants, but I was discharged and sent home both times. It's shameful."
The healthy young man had an untroubled, smiling look on his face. He said in a breezy, natural tone, "I don't want to be discharged the next time."
"Are there great men worthy of heartfelt praise hidden in this land?"
"I'm not sure, but they may be found among the hard-working farmers?"
"Yes, that's true."
I wholeheartedly agreed.
"My reasoning is sloppy, but we'd like to live with the single-minded determination of industrious farmers. However, we have petty vanity and, in practice, end up smug. But isn't it harmful to stamp farmers with a cumbersome label like industrious farmers?"
"That's true. The newspaper companies irresponsibly raised a clamor and dragged them out to be lectured and ended up turning the valuable
, hard-working farmers into strange men. Nothing good happens when they become famous."
"That's right," I said in sympathy, "Man is a sorrowful creature and has a weakness for fame. Originally, journalism was the invention of capitalists in America and is irresponsible. The moment they become famous, they mostly become simpletons."
I swept away the resentment about my personal matters at a strange place. Although this complainer speaks this way, caution is required because I tend to have the desire in my heart to become famous.
A little past noon, I opened an umbrella and walked alone around the garden in the rain. The plants looked the same. That was unusual, and I guessed it was through the efforts of my brother who maintains the old house. I stood at the edge of the lake and heard a faint sound. I looked and saw a frog jump into the lake. The sound was small and thin. At that moment, I understood Basho's poem about the ancient pond. I never understood that poem before. I could not imagine which part was good. I concluded reality always fell short of the promise because I received a poor education.
What kind of explanation did we receive in school about this poem about the ancient pond? A hushed noon darkness covered the dark blue ancient pond. A frog plopped in there (and did not throw itself into a big river). Ah, we were taught sounds linger, and the bird sings and the mountain becomes quieter. It's probably a lousy poem that is tantalizing but trite. The sarcasm is chilling. For a long time, this poem disgusted me and I kept my distance. Now, I've reconsidered and it's not that bad.
I don't understand the explanation for the plop. There's no reverberation, nothing. Only a simple plop. In other words, it is actually a sparse sound in an obscure corner of the world. A humble sound. Basho heard it and was deeply touched.
An ancient pond
A frog jumps in
The sound of water
When I reconsider this poem, it's not bad. It's a good poem. I capably reject the affected mannerisms of the temple grammar school in those days. That is, it is an exceptional idea. There is no moon, no snow, and no flowers. There is also no elegance.
