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  RYUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA IN 1927.

  RYUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA'S

  KAPPA

  Translated from the Japanese by

  SEIICHI SHIOJIRI

  NEW EDITION (REVISED)

  THE HOKUSEIDO PRESS

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Note to the New Edition

  Preface (Translation)

  Introductory Notes Ryunosuke Akutagawa

  The Kappa in the Japanese Folklore

  KAPPA Preface

  I

  II

  III

  IV

  V

  VI

  VII

  VIII

  IX

  X

  XI

  XII

  XIII

  XIV

  XV

  XVI

  XVII

  Notes

  To

  Mr. Harrison Collins

  and

  Mr. Roger Inglott

  this little book is dedicated, in the hope that it will eventually find its way to these old friends who, I believe, will be glad to know that I have survived the war to bring the Kappas to the notice of the Occidental people.

  19, Kurumamichi, Yasui,

  Uzumasa, Kyoto

  1947, SEIICHI SHIOJIRI

  NOTE TO THE NEW EDITION

  I am grateful for the warm reception accorded this little book since it was first published in 1947. It went through three impressions in fifteen months, and a fourth was being expected when the publishers went out of business.

  In preparing this new edition for my new publishers, I have tried to the best of my ability to improve on the original translation. But I am well aware that it still leaves much to be desired, especially in the eyes of the readers whose mother tongue is English. It is a great handicap to me that being a Japanese I have never lived among English-speaking people.

  Dr. Tsunetō, who wrote the preface, is now President of the new Osaka University. Professor Collins, to whom this book is dedicated, has been found by the kappas at the University of Hawaii. He kindly read my manuscript in 1940, when he was a professor of English and American literature at the Hiroshima Bunrika University, and wrote me a highly encouraging letter, saying that it should be published promptly "in order that Occidental people too may enjoy an acquaintance with the kappas." It was this letter of his that enabled this book to find its publishers—after the war, of course, for in 1940 it was not the kind of stuff they cared for. I hope his "elephant" is behaving well.

  1949

  SEIICHI SHIOJIRI

  My heartfelt thanks are due to Dr. Kyō Tsunetō, President of the Osaka University of Commerce, for writing a charming preface, to which, however, I am afraid I have not done justice in my translation. It is a great pleasure to me to open this book with his preface, not only because he is one of the noblest living minds of Japan, but because he was one of the best friends of the author of Kappa. I am also indebted to him for his good offices in getting Mrs. Akutagawa's permission to publish this translation.

  1947

  Translation:

  The country of kappas, as described by Ryūnosuke Akutagawa in his Kappa, is of course a product of pure imagination, but it is not a community of Utopian romance. It is a caricature of modern Japanese society, intended to reflect the author's views of life and of the world. The reason why Akutagawa peopled his imaginary country with kappas was, I suppose, just because he was so fond of those animals of fancy.

  I remember those days I spent with Akutagawa in the early part of the Taishō Era (1912-26), during my undergraduate and graduate student years at the Law Department of the Imperial University of Kyoto. He lived then at Tabata, Tokyo, and whenever I went to that city I stayed at his house (which unfortunately was destroyed by fire caused by air raid on July 13 last year). We used to talk together in his straw-matted room upstairs, lying on our stomachs and scrawling idle sketches on pieces of waste paper. Many of these sketches of Akutagawa's were kappas, though more often I saw him drawing profiles of women with elegant Greek features. I also remember him once showing me a black and white picture of a kappa, saying with an air of not a little satisfaction: "A masterpiece, eh? This is my portrait."

  A few days ago Mr. Shiojiri brought me during my absence the manuscript of his English translation of Kappa. I began to read it late last night, and found it so interesting that I went through more than two thirds of the whole story at a stretch. Then I fell asleep—and I think I had a dream just before daybreak in which I imagine I saw something that looked like a kappa. The remaining pages I finished this morning. I enjoyed it very much. It has new charm in its new dress of translation.

  It seems that Mr. Shiojiri has devoted a great deal of time and labor to his work since he took it up years ago. How well he has done it I as a Japanese am of course unable to tell. But I think I may at least say that he has done it very conscientiously, exercising great care in the handling of every word or phrase of the original, and trying at the same time to reproduce its unique charm.

  We Japanese must hereafter try to understand Western culture more thoroughly and more extensively than we have ever done. But it is also desirable that we should try to help Occidental people understand Japan more correctly by introducing to them what has been achieved in various fields of Japanese culture, especially works of literary art. From this point of view it is a pleasure to see one of Akutagawa's novelettes translated into English and published.The heat of that summer of 1927 when Akutagawa ' cut off his own thread of life ' was as intense as it is this summer. Mr. Shiojiri's translation of Kappa has called up swarms of recollections of its author whose memory is so dear to me, and in this mood of retrospection I have scribbled down this brief preface.

  August 18, 1946. KYO TSUNETO

  INTRODUCTORY NOTES

  RYUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA

  THE KAPPA IN THE JAPANESE FOLKLORE

  RYUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA

  Ryūnosuke Akutagawa ranks among the greatest men of letters of modern Japan. He was an artist in the true sense of the word, his devotion to his work being sometimes compared with that of Flaubert. In fact, some of his writings are gems of perfect workmanship. But the beauty of his style can hardly be appreciated except in the language he used. If put into other tongues, his masterpieces would be no better than Hiroshige's color prints copied in oils.

  Akutagawa was born in Tokyo on March 1, 1892. After finishing the course of the First High School in 1913, he studied English literature at the Tokyo Imperial University, from which he was graduated in 1916. The thesis he submitted for graduation was a study of William Morris. In the same year he wrote and published three short stories, The Nose, The Imo-gruel and The Handkerchief, which brought him immediate fame and launched him upon the brilliant activity of the next eleven years. He married Fumi Tsukamoto in 1918, and in the following year published his third and perhaps most important collection of short stories under the title of The Puppet player. He was now a leading figure in the literary circles of Japan, and successfully maintained his position for the rest of his life, which he cut short on July 24, 1927, at Tabata, Tokyo, by taking a dose of veronal.

  What made him prefer death no one knows for certain except Akutagawa himself. He says that it was "a vague fear," which again does not seem to clarify the matter at all. But let us leave it at that. Suffice it to say here that he had made up his mind to quit this world and was calmly " playing with death," as he put it, when he wrote the last six works on the following list, including Kappa.

  Some of his important works are: The Rashōmon (1915); The Nose, The Imo-gruel, The Handkerchief (1916); The Inferno, The Death of a Christian, The Death of Bashō (1
918) ; The General, In the Grove, Otomi's Chastity (1922); From Yasukichi's Note-books (1923); Travels in China, The Biography of Daidōji (1925); The Death of Genkaku, The Mirage, Kappa, The Man of the West, The Cog-wheel, A Fool's Life (1927).

  Two complete collections of his works have been published since his death, one in eight volumes and the other in ten volumes.

  THE KAPPA IN THE JAPANESE FOLKLORE

  The kappa is a fabulous creature of the rivers, ponds, lakes and the sea, and is supposed to be more or less like a child about three to ten years old. Popular imagination has given him many strange characteristics, of which the most remarkable is what is called the sara (Japanese for dish) of his head. It is not a movable article as the word would suggest, but a small cavity or hollow on top of the skull. When this dish is filled with water, the monster is supposed to be so powerful that he can drag men and horses into the water. I remember when I was a boy mother often telling me not to swim in deep waters lest I should be caught by a kappa and get my liver (which vaguely meant the most important internal organ) picked out through the anus.

  The kappa is very widely known in Japan. Literally the word means "river-child." It has many other names of the same meaning, such as kawatarō, kawako, kawarakozō, etc. In the Iwami Province where I was born he is called enkō. Evidently this name comes from the old popular belief that he looks like a monkey, for the word enkō more usually means "monkey." Suiko, or "water-tiger," is a literary name taken from an old Chinese book.

  There are many old Japanese books containing articles or pictures of the kappa, from some of which the following is quoted:

  ....Often he (the kappa) bewitches men and women. Some people say that he is the transformation of a big tortoise. Looks like a child with an ugly face ....His skin is greenish yellow, and at the top of his head is a small cavity containing water. This water gives him great physical strength— If you meet with a kappa, deal him a hard blow on the head and drive out the water kept there, and he will fall helpless. It is said that a great number of kappas are found in the Kyūshū provinces, where they are believed to be the transformations of old otters.

  —Honchō Shokukan, a book of common articles of food, published 1695.

  Looks like a monkey, with a long nose and round eyes. Very powerful when he has water in his dish, or the clam-shell-shaped cavity on top of his head. The color is grey, with a touch of greenish yellow. Wears a shell and keeps his limbs in it like a tortoise, but when he sticks them out he looks like man. His hands and feet are webbed, each with five fingers or toes. Very fishy-smelling.

  —Hone Kibun, a book of animals, vegetables and minerals, published c. 1800.

  ....Looks like a child about ten years old. Goes naked. Walks erect and speaks human language. The top of his short-haired head is concave and holds a small quantity of water. Lives in the water, and comes out in the evening to steal melons, egg-apples and other farm products. Likes wrestling, and challenges every man or woman he comes across to a contest of strength.... When you wrestle with a kappa, shake your head violently up and down several times. He will do the same and lose every drop of water on top of his head, and will soon be overcome. But until he has lost the water he is stronger than the strongest man. Moreover, he can withdraw one arm into his chest and stretch out the other twice its usual length. This peculiarity, coupled with the slipperiness of his skin, makes him all the more difficult to deal with. Sometimes he drags even horses and cows into the water and sucks their blood through their anuses. One must be careful when crossing a stream.

  —Wakan Sansai Zue, an encyclopedia published c. 1700.

  ....Has a long-haired head and a face very much like a tiger's. As big as a badger... . Afraid of monkeys .... The young are spit forth, or born from the mother's mouth. No edged tool can cut him, a sharpened hemp stick being the only effective weapon against him. ...Likes to wrestle with children.... A dose of powdered bark of the Chinese anise taken with water is a good cure for the insanity that often results from wrestling with a kappa.... Keeps water in a hollow on the triangular top of his head, his strength being lessened with the loss of the water. Steals cucumbers and musk-melons to eat them, and sometimes horses and cows to ride them. These animals are of no use afterwards. Often casts a spell on women and rapes them.. ..Drags men and women into the water and, thrusting his hand in through their anuses, picks out their livers....

  —Wakun no Shiori, a dictionary published 1805.

  Dear Mr. Kimpei Urayama,

  I beg to present you with a kappa caught off the coast of Mito on June I. It measures more than three feet in length and weighs about a hundred pounds. I have never seen such a big one.... There were noisy cries in the sea, like those of babies. The fishermen cast their net and caught many kappas in it. But they all nimbly made their escape except this one, which was knocked down with a pole.... When it fell it broke wind, and the stench was so offensive that the fishermen became ill afterwards.... It seems to have no bones at all. Its anus consists of three openings, only a hissing sound being produced when the gas is emitted....

  Yours sincerely,

  Gompeiji.

  —Shokusanjin, 1768-1829, a humorist..

  Mr. Kawai of Nagoya was a man of large build and great strength. In the early hours of July the 3rd, the 3rd year of Hōreki (1753), when he was walking along the Oise, he came upon a little boy wearing a brown hemp garment and a black obi (girdle), with no hair at the top center of his head. Mr. Kawai asked him where he was going, and was told that he was on his way from the Camellia Grove on the upper stream to the water-mill.

  Mr. Kawai walked on, when suddenly the little boy seized his obi and pulled him back. " So you are that damned kawakozō (river-child) that has done so much harm to innocent people here," said Mr. Kawai. " I would smash your brains out if I were not under a vow not to destroy life."

  The kawakozō was rightened, and hurriedly jumped into the river and was gone. After a while, however, when Mr. Kawai was seated on the bank puffing away at his pipe, the kawakozō _stole out of the water and approached him again.

  Mr. Kawai saw him, and in an angry voice told him to be gone. The kawakozō said, as he jumped back into the river, that he had never met with such a formidable person before.

  On his way home Mr. Kawai told this story to Mr. Yamaoka, who in turn told it to me in July, the 9th year of Meiwa (1772).

  —Wakun no Shiori.

  In the Tenshō Era (1573-92) there lived in the village of Haneba, Shinano Province, a man whose name was Shiba Kawachi. One day he left his horse grazing alone on the bank of the Tenryū. Presently a kappa took the tether and tried to drag the horse into the river. But the animal would not move an inch. It seemed determined to have its own way. So the kappa wound the rope tightly round his waist and pulled with all his might, until at sunset the horse made up its mind to put an end to the tug of war, and, before the kappa had time to disentangle himself from the rope, ran back to the stable.

  The people of the house and their neighbors rushed upon the kappa and bound him hand and foot to a stable post. But the master of the house, who felt pity for the luckless little monster, unbound the rope and let him go. And from time to time after that he found some fresh-water fish at the door of his house, probably brought by the grateful kappa during the night.

  —Shinano Kidan, Folklore of the Shinano Province, published c. 1830.

  A certain old family in Sayo District, Himeji, sells a medicine for broken bones prepared by a secret formula. It is known as the " kappa's remedy " and is highly prized for its virtues. According to the local tradition, the formula was first learned from a kappa in the Mei Era (1704-1711) by one of the ancestors of the family.

  One late summer day, when the heat was unbearable in the stable, his horse was taken to the bank of a stream and tied to a little willow in the shade of a tree. But soon the horse ran back to the stable. A servant went to see what had happened, and found something like a monkey squatting in a corner, with the tether round its
waist. He dragged it out and bound it to a persimmon tree. The top of its head was concave, and the concavity was surrounded by reddish-brown hair that looked like dry needles of a pine-tree. The people who gathered around agreed that it was a kappa and were loudly discussing what should be done with him, when the master of the house came.

  He glared at the hateful little devil and declared that he would cut him to pieces to avenge the deaths of the villagers who had lost their Lives in the river. Then he drew his sword and :hopped off his right arm. The kappa lamented his fate, and with tears running down his cheeks begged his life to be spared, swearing that he would never again do any harm to that family and the villagers. The samurai felt pity for him. It would not add anything to his credit to kill so mean a thing as a kappa. He would let him go, he said, if he would write an apology.

  But the kappa did not know how to write, nor had he the hand to write with. He begged the samurai for mercy's sake to return his right arm. But what was the use of an arm that had been cut off? the samurai demanded. He would keep it as a souvenir. The kappa bowed again and again and begged him to give it back, saying that he would set it all right that night. The samurai was interested, and asked whether the kappa prepared the medicine for himself. The kappa replied that he did.