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In Tsukushi, there was a man... (Tsukushi ni...) from the series Essays in Idleness (Tsurezuregusa)
In Tsukushi, there was a man... (Tsukushi ni...) from the series Essays in Idleness (Tsurezuregusa)

In Tsukushi, there was a man... (Tsukushi ni...) from the series Essays in Idleness (Tsurezuregusa)

Artist (Japanese, 1780–1850)
Datecommissioned for a New Year, ca. 1832
MediumColor woodblock print
Dimensions7 13/16 × 7 1/16 inches (19.8 × 17.9 cm)
ClassificationsPrints
Credit LineGift of Joanna Haab Schoff, Class of 1955
Terms
  • Surimono
  • Color woodblock print
  • Poetry
  • Vegetables
  • Armor
  • Swords
  • Japanese
Object number2011.017.019
Label CopyCommissioned by the Fylot Circle (Manji-ren) for a New Year, ca. 1832 Kyo hiraku Today, we break it open Gusoku ni zo shiru And from their armor we know Tsuchio ne These great roots of the earth Futamata naranu With the merit of warriors Bushi no isao wa Not split between two masters —Jushitsu Morozane Tsurezuregusa was a popular miscellany of entertaining stories, random thoughts and advice for living written by Yoshida Kenko around 1330–1332. In the section quoted in the open book beside the title cartouche, made to look like a book cover and imprinted with the symbol of the Manji Group, the tale of a constable from Tsukushi (modern Kyushu) is introduced. Believing giant radishes (daikon) such as that depicted in the print would preserve his health, the man ate a pair of them every day. One day, when enemy forces attacked his constabulary, the man was surprised to see two soldiers unknown to him come rushing out from inside. So fiercely did the two fight that the enemy was driven back and retreated. On asking the identity of his saviors, the constable discovered that they were the radishes he had eaten everyday. In the poem, the term used to refer to the split-bottomed daikon, futamata, means both “double thighs,” and “double loyalties,” as in a soldier who serves two masters. A further connection between military imagery and the contemporary New Year is made in the reference to the practice of gusoku-biraki, a samurai version of the New Year kagami-biraki, or “mochi rice-cake breaking.” Warrior families would place a round mochi cake as an offering before a display of armor (gusoku), and this would be broken up and eaten on the eleventh day of the New Year. Yet a further reading of gusoku ni as gusoku-ni, could refer to a dish made of boiled Ise lobster (a common New Year treat) with its shell (“armor”) still on. In this mode, the opening lines could be seen as a series of embedded references to food: mochi, boiled lobster and soup (shiru), in addition to daikon.
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