Jason Weiser (0:00)

Quick disclaimer. There are some slight adult themes this week. Please see the post on mythpodcast.com for more info. This week on Myths and Legends There are three stories of love from Japan. We'll see why you shouldn't go seeking filth and squalor abroad when there's so much for you at home. And how when it comes to love, the best is one that doesn't involve poison, deception, or murder. The creature this time is three angry heads who want to make their problems your Problems By Setting youg On Fire. This is Myths and Legends, episode 402 misconceptions. This is a podcast where we tell stories from mythology and folklore. Some are incredibly popular tales you might think you know, but with surprising origins. Others are stories that might be new to you, but but are definitely worth a listen. Today there are three stories of love from the Edo period in Japan. The Edo period spanned between 1603 and 1868, and it was a time of peace and strict social order under the Tokugawa Shogunate. It was a time of art, theater, isolation from foreign influence, and where samurai became largely bureaucrats nostalgic for a warrior past, and merchants were on the rise despite their more common backgrounds. Almost none of that matters except in the background for today's stories, though, and we'll start our love stories with the man who's been recently widowed. Kind of. Alas, I am a widower. Yoshi Fuji gripped his kimono and looked to the sky, forlorn. Setting down the tea, his servant looked left and right. Um, was he going to be the one to say it? No one in the house met the servant's eyes. Okay, looks like this one was his. Uh, you're not a widower, Master, the servant said. His wife was fine. They just got a letter from her that morning. She went away to the capital, Kyoto, with the children. She would be back in a week. I am a temporary widower, the merchant actually said in the original. That's. That's not a thing. The servant set the tea down and then left, because he knew where this was going to go. After a few minutes of calling to the servant that it was a thing, the rich man finished his tea and sat back, then rose. Well, those were some lustful thoughts. Better walk those off. And according to the original, he was plagued by those when he was a temporary widower. And so he did. And instead of staying in his house, where he couldn't really get into trouble, he started off toward town. But he was barely off his own property when he saw oh It's a lady. And it was a lady. A beautiful young woman walked on the road, and she froze when she saw him. My lustful feelings are aroused, it said in the original, and he hopefully didn't say out loud when, rushing up to the woman, she began to flee from him. What? Who are you? Yoshi Fuji cried out, asking if they could please stop running. He slowed down, and so did she. The young woman turned. No one, she said. She was no one. That was difficult to believe. She was dressed in these ornate, beautiful silks. How about this? You come over to my house right now, he said. That would be unseemly. The woman stepped back. What? No. All he wanted to do was have sake. He redirected that sentence when he guessed where the former one would land. How about this? How about he comes over to her house? He said in a very enthusiastically menacing way that made it clear that he would be following her home. But he didn't. He walked next to her, holding her hand. You know, I never knew this was back here, he said, marveling at the mansion in the woods that was almost directly behind his house. A half dozen servants spilled from the mansion, exclaiming that her ladyship had returned. They treated the merchant and the lady to dinner, where Yoshi Fuji learned that she was the daughter of the house. The story tells us that they spent that night together. If, like me, you're wondering how she felt about that, well, the story sure doesn't. The next morning, he woke up alone and made his way to the main room, where a hunched, bearded man grasped his hands. Congratulations on spending the night with my daughter. The man grinned, nodding. Uh, okay. Thanks, Yoshi Fuji said. Or you're welcome. I'm not really sure how to respond to any of this. It's all a pretty new situation for me. This bond was obviously predestined. The old man clapped. Now you must stay with us. Can I spend more nights with your daughter? Yoshi Fuji asked. Yes, the old man beamed. Then stay I shall. And he did. Where is he? The servant who had served Yoshi Fuji tea the previous day asked. Back at the house. Back at the house? Oh, before I left last night, he said he was going to go walk off his lust, another servant said in passing. Oh, got it, the servant said, and waited for his master to return from whatever he had gotten himself into in town. Yoshi Fuji didn't return that night, or the night after. The servant sent someone to town who said that Yoshi Fuji never arrived. His wife and son, Tadasara, remember, returned from Kyoto and Still, the father hadn't come home. He went out on a lust walk. His wife looked to the floor when she met with his brothers, they sighed. They never understood why he did that. Just stay at home. Still, it's been 10 days. Might be better off to start looking for remains. Yoshi Fuji's wife broke down and they comforted her. They ordered a statue of Canon carved so they could petition it to find the location of Yoshi Fuji's body. Thirteen years was a long time in paradise, but it felt like just yesterday he had menaced his future wife on the road and now they had this wonderful life together and they had a beautiful son. Nothing against his first wife and son, but with all due respect, he was going to profoundly hurt and disrespect them both by declaring this son with this woman his heir. You know, years can fly by. Before you know it, Your podcast is 10 years old and kids who started listening when they were 12 are graduating from college. I've had projects where I blink and it's been years since I've looked at them. Completely unrelated. Fictional will be back this year, so maybe I can understand how it's been years. And Yoshifuji wouldn't have even thought about maybe going home or going into town to have his heir officially changed with his brother who was a senior officer in the government. Oh, hello, strange man, Yoshi Fuji said as a man hobbled up to the manor. We don't get too many travelers around here. Come to think of it, they hadn't gotten any travelers or visitors in 13 years. Oh well, nothing ominous to read into there. Hey there, elderly man. Yoshi Fuji waved, turning. He was going to ask his wife and father in law to prepare some food for the traveler. But they were huddled in the back of their house, as far away as they could get, shaking and refusing to move. Um, okay. Getting harder to ignore the weirdness. I guess I'll get some food. He turned back around and the man was no longer hobbling along the path. He was right next to Yoshi Fuji. You are fast. Yoshi Fuji laughed. And then the man picked up his cane and poked Yoshi Fuji sharply in the side with it. Ow. Yoshi Fuji said. Don't do that. The man didn't listen. He poked Yoshi Fuji again. Hey, stop it. Rude. It's too rude. Yoshi Fuji shouted. The old man poked him again. The man moved between him and his house. He poked Yoshi Fuji yet again. The old man was relentless, and Yoshi Fuji figured that even though he could probably take the old man in a fight. If this man was willing to poke complete strangers on their own doorsteps, well, Yoshi Fuji was actually going to be very respectful and not beat up an old man. Not because he was scared of this wiry old dude and his no nonsense, pokey energy. Okay, so. Woods, right? You want me to go into the woods with you? Yoshi Fuji said, then called back to his house. Honey, I'm being slowly kidnapped. Go to the magistrates, please, and talk to my brother. He'll. He'll know what to do. But the house was silent. Wow, this is a thick forest. Yoshi Fuji was having a hard time pushing through. The trees had grown so close together that it was basically a squeeze. And the man was still poking. Yes, I get it. Go that way. I am. Wow, it is dark out here. And stinky. It was dark night somehow. But he could only squint up at the sky. Even the moon was bright out here. But why? Why was the moon bright? Then he looked down at his arms. They were withered and caked with filth. But where was he? Dad. A voice called out from the dark. Masada had given up hope of ever finding his dad. His uncles had carved the statue of cannon and prayed for days, though admittedly he didn't think anything would come of that. But then, unable to sleep, he woke in the middle of the night and felt like something was calling him out to the storehouse. That vague and general spiritual calling turned into a literal grunting and groaning as, approaching the storehouse, a dirty, grimy figure crawled upon the ground. Tadasara thought that it could be a yokai creature, like one of those ones that licks the bathroom or shows you its butthole. But its butthole is an eye. Then he squinted. There was something strangely familiar about this thing, though. It was then that he realized it was his father. Tadasada praised canon. After 13 days, they had found his father. Thirteen days? No, it's been 13 years since I was a temporary widower, Yoshi Fuji said. The wife grimaced. She told him to stop saying that when she had to travel. That wasn't a thing. The servant arrived with a bucket, a rag, and a lantern to begin washing the filth off of him. I. I had a son. Yeah. Hi, dad. Tadasata said. No, no, my beautiful precious boy. I was going to disinherit you, Yoshi Fuji said. Tadasada said he didn't need to know that. The wife asked. And where is the sun? This wife. Are they. Are they here right now? Yoshi Fuji laughed. What? No. The withered arm, caked with dirt and excrement, pointed, shaking, as Yoshi Fuji said, it was in the forest. The forest. Just over there there was a beautiful grand mansion. The eyes of the mother, son, and the servants followed the man's finger and the trail of filth not to the forest but to the storehouse. The mother gestured to the servant, who rose with the lantern. The trail went not to the door of the storehouse but to a gap in the boards underneath. The wife took the lantern and pushed it into the darkness. The stench and swirl of a dozen foxes exploded out at her as they rushed from the hole, taking off into the forest. The foxes, the kitsune, had bewitched Yoshi Fuji, making him think that he had been in a grand mansion with them for over a decade, when really he had been mired in fox filth underneath his own storehouse. One fox lingered, and a tear making a track through the grime left on his face. Yoshi Fuji reached out and then that fox followed the others. They had a monk come by and pray for him, and others come to exorcise the evil influences. After a few months, he looked like himself again. When he finally let go of the illusion. He marveled how he thought the bottom of the storehouse that wasn't six inches off the ground could have been a grand manner. He thanked his son and brothers and wife for not giving up on him, I guess, not knowing they were actually just looking for his body, and said he truly learned his lesson. Everyone should invoke and meditate on Canon. His wife and son's smiles faded. Uh, what? The son said. He thought the lesson might be be faithful to your spouse or honor your commitments. Or don't become enslaved by lust. Or don't menace strange women on the road and follow them home and forsake Canon. The father gasped. No, I mean, those lessons don't conflict at all. It's just like. Seems like you're focusing on being bailed out instead of not making mistakes in the first place. And it seems like you're imposing moral rules from afar instead of respecting my rights to abandon my family and disinherit my son for strangers who may or may not be foxes. Yoshi Fuji closed his eyes and raised a palm. As for him, he would serve and respect Canon, the sun said. That was a big false dichotomy. It wasn't an either or. You could respect Canon and also not abandon your family whatever. And so Yoshi Fuji did. He lived for another 10 years until he was 61, and he invoked and meditated on canon throughout that time. He also did not abandon his family for foxes again. Definitely because it was wrong. Definitely also because of the lack of opportunity because they already chased all those good looking foxes off the property. The end that is the story and its lesson. Kannon, as we've talked about before, is a deity in Japanese Buddhism and roughly analogous to the Bodhisattva Guangyen from the Journey to the West. We've talked about Kitsune too, but but in Japanese folklore there are two types. The first are the good ones, the messengers of the Shinto deity Inari. The ones in the story today were not those. These were the other types, the tricksters, the mischievous and malevolent pranksters who will slowly starve you to death for following them home with or without provocation. Anyway, as we saw in the last story, it is possible to fall out of love. That happens on the next story, but not with a person. It's with a place that will, however, be right after this this show is sponsored by BetterHelp. Relationship red flags we talk about them a lot on this podcast. There are actually several in this week's episode alone. But what's more interesting to me are green flags. Like not things to avoid, but things to go after to celebrate. For me, a green flag is someone who encourages you to pursue your dreams and be the best version of yourself. Honestly, that's my wife, Carissa. Maybe, though you might have a hard time knowing what a green flag looks like, or even fostering them yourself. Basically, it's time to form relationships that love you back, and a good therapist can help you see what that looks like. I've talked about how helpful therapy has been for me throughout my life, and it's not just for people who've experienced trauma, but it's kind of for everyone. If you're looking into therapy, check out BetterHelp Better. It's fully online, so that means it's both convenient and affordable. 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And it was super affordable too, compared to not just sweaters, but cashmere sweaters. Everything at Quince is priced within reach, 50 to 80% less than similar brands. And by partnering with top factories, they cut out the middleman and pass the savings on to you. And maybe my favorite part about Quince is that you don't have to sacrifice ethics for a deal. Quince only works with factories that use safe, ethical and responsible manufacturing practices and premium fabrics and finishes. Give yourself the luxury you deserve with quince. Go to quince.com legends for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. That's Q U I N C E dot com legends to get free shipping and 365 day returns. Quince.com legends Frog didn't hate Kyoto. He didn't have any major issues with Kyoto. This was the 17th century, so over tourism wasn't really a problem. Yet there were samurai and temples and people moving this way and that in what was technically the capital of the empire. He didn't hate Kyoto, but he did kind of hate himself. Well, hate is too strong of a word. He was annoyed with himself. When he was growing up as a young frog under his parents log, he told himself, as soon as he could, he was gone. There was a whole world out there and he wasn't about to be stuck in his childhood home. And he did leave for a bit, but for the outskirts, a bunch of natural beauty. There's that one temple with the gates. It was good stuff. But he knew Kyoto. He knew where all the good spots were for flies and everything else frogs eat. Because as we've talked about, frogs are low key, horrifying, and will eat whatever fits in their mouths. Snakes, mice, but don't Google it. He knew the frog grocery stores and the frog school districts. He settled down for a bit, just a bit, while he figured out what he would do next. And yeah, that was years ago. The time just got away from him. But he could do something about that. He could make a change. He was only four years old and if he was lucky, he had another four to go. He'd rather live the life he chose than the one he had fallen into thanks to his own inertia and inaction. He packed his frog bag, hopped from his stream and put on his brown coat and striped trousers and told his mother and father goodbye. He was going to see the world. He was going to see Osaka. Osaka currently is a major city in Japan. I think it's the second largest. It's about 50 kilometers or about 47 miles from Kyoto, and it's a major shipping port. It takes about 15 minutes on the Shinkansen, the high speed train, an hour to drive it, and 11 hours for a human to walk. So the frogs had a trip in front of them. And yes, frogs. You see, in Osaka, there was another frog living in a ditch down by the ports. Every day he saw ships come and go, and every day he stayed put. All of his friends at one point or another hopped aboard, but he had been too scared. So he stayed in Osaka, the commercial center of the empire, where even though he saw people and frogs and animals from all over Japan, he never left. That is, until today. He couldn't exist between two places, between his dreams and reality. He had to live in one. So he would hop the road up to Kyoto, the home of the emperor, and see the world. Then, who knows? So he too grabbed his frog bag, a jacket and pants, and hopped off. Like I said, according to Google Maps, it would take a human about 11 hours to walk between Osaka and Kyoto. The frog from Kyoto, happy to be making some change, any change, hopped along. The Osaka frog did the same. Seeing that the world outside its city was not all that scary, it was actually kind of charming. Then one morning, each frog saw something up ahead. It was a frog. The frog from Osaka hopped up to the frog from Kyoto. Oh, hey. What was the other doing so far from his home? They learned that they weren't so different from each other. In fact, they were hardly different at all. Despite some slight tweaks in their respective motivations, they were pretty much exactly the same. They had the same to see the world outside their home. It was nice to see a similarly cultured and motivated frog. And it had been a long journey so far for both of them. So they found a cool bit of mud in which to relax, ate some flies and maybe an easily accessible mammal or snake in a horrifying manner, and continued their conversation. The frog from Osaka asked the frog from Kyoto what his city was like, and he said it was, well, a city. It had some buildings, some shrines, some temples. There was a body of water nearby how about the Osaka Frog? He laughed. Actually, yeah, same deal. Buildings, shrines, temples, body of water. Wow. He breathed deeply. Okay, kind of weird question, but what if it's not worth it? Kyoto Frog said. What? Yeah, like what if we're leaving what we know for more of the same, but worse. Like we don't know anyone and we're in a strange place but it's just the same. That sounds legitimately terrible, the Kyoto frog said, and added that the thought had been growing in his head as well. He stood and pointed. That rock? Osaka Frog said. Yeah, it was a rock. The highest point nearby. What's that? What's up? Kyoto Frog said. Well, they could position themselves as they were walking, get on that rock, and each boosting the other up, helping him to stabilize on his back legs. Each could see where they were going and decide if it was different or worth it at all. Osaka Frog said, no. Yeah, that made sense. He rose. The Kyoto frog met him on top of the rock, the wind blowing in the morning sun, and they positioned themselves as they had been hopping, Kyoto Frog facing southwest, Osaka Frog facing northeast toward Kyoto. They held onto each other's slimy frog hands as, shaking, they rose on their hind legs and there at the top of the rock, each could see a city in the distance. Kyoto Frog looked and laughed. Osaka was nothing but a copy of Kyoto. It had an imperial palace, a massive amount of shrines, and wooden storefronts nestled into low mountains nearby, all with somber samurai and court officials. Osaka Frog laughed himself. Kyoto was just another city crisscrossed with canals, shops, merchants, warehouses, and docks opening up to a bay with lively traders all over. So there's a joke here. The story describes the frogs with eyes on the backs of their heads, which I isn't, I think 100% true, but isn't completely false. Regardless, even though their nose might be facing one way while they're on their hind legs, the city that their eyes see is their own city. And this is played for, I guess, laughs because the two cities in question, Osaka and Kyoto, are very different, despite being so close. We'll talk about this more later. The frogs steadied themselves as they lowered, smiling, their bemused frog smiles. Exactly the same for you, one frog said to the other. Exactly the same. The frogs nodded to one another and croaked their goodbyes as each hopped off back home. Osaka Frog to Osaka and Kyoto Frog to Kyoto. When they returned, they actually enjoyed their homes. They found new small things to appreciate and knowing this was where they were going to be because there was no point in living anywhere else because every place was exactly the same. They could rest. They lived out their frog lives happy and unburdened. So, yeah, like I said, Kyoto and Osaka were at the time the story was put down to paper, so different that it would be impossible to get them confused. Today, they're a little closer. Kyoto is more built up than a sleepy city full of temples that it's portrayed as on YouTube and in that one photo of that one street you always see, but they're still different. Kyoto has a preponderance of temples and shrines, while Osakara Rei roughly has the same population as New York City and is way bigger population wise, than, say, Los Angeles. Most of our audiences in the U.S. so it's analogous to saying, like Washington D.C. and New York City were exactly the same if they were closer. The story really speaks to me. We've moved around a little bit and there's a pull for us to just get up and go. Carissa and I call it our two year itch, where you've been in a place for two years and just want to go somewhere else. What I found though, is that if you don't kind of change how you look at the world, you'll end up having a very similar life in that different place. I know that, yeah, we could, like, move to Hawaii or the Pacific Northwest. We'd likely end up with our current life just with a nicer backdrop while we're driving to get groceries or at soccer practice or outside my office window while I type away at scripts. It's kind of making peace with being where you are while you're there. The frogs in the story did that and found happiness and contentment. Granted, it was out of their own mistakes and ignorance, but I found deeper explanations of the story, saying that there's like a Buddhist idea of things not being what they seem and making peace with the illusion. On the final story today, it's a geisha who does what she must to survive and all the guys who just want to keep her forever. Sakuroko smiled as she plucked the shamisen. She always had a talent for appearances, for hiding in her heart what she truly felt, and for only showing the world what she wanted them to see. She still remembered the day that her father died. He wasn't cut down in the street by some young man trying to make a name for himself or executed after some court intrigue. He simply dropped to the ground while out in the market, clutching his chest. Her father, a great samurai and friend of the daimyo, fell and never rose again. His creditors moved fast, but Sakura Ko moved faster. She was only 16 then, but she had been trained as a future lady. She was prepared to manage an estate and navigate political alliances. That would have been her life. But dance the shamisen, the tea ceremony, calligraphy, to say nothing of conversation. She had been raised to address the shogun. Talking circles around the Okasan was easy. Within the hour, she had secured enough to pay off her father's entertaining and gambling debts so her mother could live comfortably. It only cost Sakurako everything. That was years ago. Now she was Sakurico, flower of the cherry, the beautiful dancer, Veto, the geisha without peer. A geisha without peer, but still a geisha. The gentlemen of Edo had to have their pleasure, so every night she was called upon. Every night she was the focus of attention, of music and dance and conversation and just the right laugh at just the right time to make a gentleman feel like a conquering general. She wore silk and pinned her hair with coral and jade and whitened her face. All this was perfume on a corpse. Sakura Kobe might be the focus, but she was invisible in all the ways that truly mattered. After the parties were over, save a few untoward offers from those who ceded command of their wits to the sake, she was invisible. No one cared where she went. No one. She sighed when she answered the door the following day. No, my masterno. You didn't even wait to hear my master's offer. The man stepped forward, blocking her from closing the door. I don't need to, she said with a look to the lady who owned the house. A whisper would travel to the men, who would make sure the visitor left when he was asked. Do you know who my master is? The man asked. Yes. You have no business on the street, sakura Ko said. You have lost your way. You should have gone to the street with the toy shops, the dolls. That's what your master desires. And there are no dolls here. When the man saw she couldn't be bullied, reason with or yes, bought, his shoulders drooped and he left. Sakura Ko knew that this wasn't the end of it. And she was right. When his master arrived that evening by lantern light, oh flower of the cherry, he swooned. I must have. You must? She asked. He nodded. Yes, must. What will you give me? He leaned against the doorway. Fine attire, silk and brocade, a house, white mats and cool galleries, servants, gold hairpins, whatever she wished. No doubt he had those things, and more, many times over. But there was one thing on that list that wasn't mentioned by this third son of one of the richest merchants in Edo. And what would I need to give you for all these things? His eyes looked her up and down. Herself. Just herself. All of her body and soul. Body and soul. She sighed and began to close the door. What did I say? It's like everything I have, not enough for you. The man was so enraged spit began flying from his mouth. It's not everything. Not nearly, sakura Ko corrected him. And that was what she was going to need if she was going to give all of herself to him. He laughed. She couldn't expect him to, what with a geisha. Oh, is this. Is she on the clock, entertaining him with a fun joke? Hahaha. She was so good at her job. And I aim to keep it, not throw it away for words. Goodbye. Don't come back. She closed her door in his face. He screamed for a bit before the men outside told him that he would be doing a different sort of screaming if he didn't comply with what the geisha said. Now we've talked about it, I think, but there was a specific structure to the Edo period in Japan when it came to, well, sex work. We won't dive too deep into the discussion because it isn't super warranted here. But despite perceptions that have persisted since the 1800s, being a geisha wasn't and is not. That didn't stop guys from trying, though. I love you, a client said later on in the week over tea. Sakura Ko sighed inwardly. It was certainly a week outwardly. She smiled at the man, whose face was lined by age, not care. He had dalliances in his youth. Dalliances. He told Sakurako about an extensive and explicit detail over tea, and she listened. She told the proprietor of the teahouse to stop linking her up with this man, but he was as rich as he was foolish and kept piling money and putting social pressure on the manager until she had to relent. You are too cruel, he said. Didn't she know he loved her? Oh, absolutely, yeah. That was never a question, securico replied. You will come to my house tonight, the man said. She was about to object, but he said no, no, no, not like that. He had already cleared it with the manager. Sakura Co could bring a lady if she wanted. He was strictly hiring her as a geisha. He hoped she would see him for who he wasn't. He wasn't so old. Not yet. You have made it to old age. Sakura Ko smiled. It was a gift not given to all, and he still had time to prepare for his end he should be reading the law and meditating, not entertaining young women. He laughed. Good joke. Good joke. She was an entertainer. Truly. He would see her tonight after sunset. She helped him to his feet and he left nearly shaking with excitement. We'll see what the old man is thinking, but that will once again be right after this.