2008年2月27日水曜日

Takeda Shingen--a story

Did you remember that name?

If you travel to Yamanashi, you will find a certain product at every souvenir stand. It’s called Shingen mochi, and it’s delicious. It’s a sweet named after Yamanashi’s greatest hero, Takeda Shingen.

The family name is Takeda, and the hero’s personal name is Shingen. Let’s call him Shingen in this story, though he had many names throughout his lifetime. Shingen became head of the Takeda clan back in the 16th century. That was a time known as The Warring States Period in Japanese history, because at that time Japan was less a nation and more of a motley collection of feudal domains.

The most famous story about Shingen concerns him and his arch rival, Uesugi Kenshin. They fought each other a total of five times, once in hand-to-hand combat. Neither one could defeat the other. When Shingen died of illness in late middle age, the rival cried inconsolably. Life wasn’t fun any more without a worthy rival.

Remember the part about Yamanashi being a landlocked province? One of the problems Shingen had to solve was finding a source of salt, the major food preservative in the days before refrigeration was invented. A rather romantic legend has it that Shingen led a party in search of salt down the Fuji River to the sea, where he came to a salt-making village. It was his plan to capture the village and secure an eternal source of salt.

However, Shingen’s reputation as a poet traveled well ahead of him.

The villagers’ idea was that if Shingen could not be defeated in battle, they would have to get him another way. Each night, a villager with a flute would play his most beautiful music. Each night, Shingen would come out of his camp to listen to the music and compose poetry. When this became established routine, the flute player dropped his flute, picked up a bow and arrow, and mortally wounded Shingen.

I read this in a novel (Japanese Inn, by Oliver Statler). I have no idea of whether or not it is true. It could be true, and that is good enough for me.

I like the idea that the only thing in the whole world stronger than a samurai is music and poetry.