The SOAS Journal of Postgraduate Research, Vol. 8 (2015) 15   Analysis  of  Okuni  Sōshi  as  Sources  of  the  Earliest  Kabuki   Ivan  R.  V.  Rumánek   Abstract:  Okuni  sōshi  is  a  group  of  early  Tokugawa  period  documents  depicting  the  supposed   performances  of  Izumo  no  Okuni,  the  legendary  founder  of  the  kabuki  theatre.  They  contain   textual  and  pictorial  material  that  offer  us  an  idea  about  what  the  early  kabuki  might  have   looked   like,   although   it   is   not   certain   to   what   extent   they   are   trustworthy   in   terms   of   immediate  reference  to  Izumo  no  Okuni’s  real  performances.  Their  texts  even  challenge  the   very  historical  existence  of  Okuni,  as  she  is  depicted  as  the  actress  as  well  as  the  character  of   the  dancing  semi-­‐dramatic  skits.  Despite  this  historical  controversy,  the  Okuni  sōshi  do  convey   a  general  atmosphere  and  the  approximate  content  of  skits  which  stood  at  the  beginning  of  a   completely  new  theatrical  genre  in  Japan.  They  also  testify  to  how,  and  to  what  extent,  early   kabuki  drew  on  the  previous  tradition  of  nōgaku  (nō  and  kyōgen).     The  emergence  of  kabuki  as  a  mature  theatrical  tradition  is  usually  noted  to  date  from  the  end  of  the   17th  century.  However,  there  is  a  certain  paradox  regarding  its  genesis:  on  the  one  hand,  it  appears  as   an   elaborate   all-­‐male   actor   theatre   (in   contrast   to   the   puppet   theatre)   in   a   fully   established   form   around   1700   thanks   to   the   playwright   Chikamatsu   Monzaemon   (1653-­‐1724);   yet,   regarding   the   beginnings  of  kabuki,  the  founder  role  is  traditionally  ascribed  to  a  remarkable,  and  seemingly  isolated,   phenomenon  of  the  female  dancer  called  Izumo  no  Okuni.  She  came  to  Kyoto  and  swept  away  the   city’s  audiences  with  her  dances  as  early  as  1603,  and  to  such  an  extent  that  the  shogunate  had  to   issue  a  whole  series  of  bans  regarding  this  new  kind  of  performing  art  in  an  attempt  to  stop  what  it   regarded   as   improprieties,   not   only   during   the   kabuki   performances   themselves   but   especially   offstage.   This   study   analyses   the   earliest   written,   as   well   as   pictorial,   documents   referring   to   the   beginnings   of   kabuki.   Though   the   historical   existence   of   Izumo   no   Okuni   can   be   doubted,   the   performances  connected  with  her,  and  named  after  her,  cannot;  they  set  in  motion  a  completely  new   wave  in  the  theatrical  tradition  of  Japan.  This  author  attempts  to  identify  the  role  of  nō  in  this  process,   based  on  a  hermeneutical  study  of  the  Okuni  sōshi.     Okuni  sōshi  is  the  name  of  a  group  of  the  earliest  extant  documents  pertaining  to  early  kabuki   and  traditionally  (Tsubouchi  Shōyō  1925,  2-­‐19)  it  is  considered  as  including  four  materials:   1.  Kuni  Jo-­‐kabuki  Ekotoba      国女歌舞妓絵詞.  As  it  is  in  the  possession  of  Kyoto  University   Library,  it  will  be,  for  the  sake  of  brevity,  referred  to  as  the  “Kyōdai  book”  and  its  text  the   “Kyōdai  play”  (“Kd”  in  abbreviation).  It  contains  drama-­‐like  text  sections  that  alternate  with   pictures  that  represent  the  first  illustration  set  of  the  Okuni  sōshi.   The SOAS Journal of Postgraduate Research, Vol. 8 (2015) 16   2.  Kabuki  (no)  Saushi    かぶきさうし  (“Ss”  in  abbreviation).  It  is  thought  to  be  several  years   younger  than  the  Kyōdai  book.  The  historical  spelling  of  the  diphthong  -­‐  “saushi”1  is  preserved   here;   the   pronunciation   is,   nevertheless,   modern,   i.   e.   [so:śi].   Its   text   has   the   character   of   a  monogatari  and  is  interspersed  with  pictures  which  represent  the  second  illustration  set.     3.   Okuni   Kabuki   sōshi       阿国歌舞伎草紙.   In   this   study,   it   is   referred   to   as   “Bunkakan   fragments”  (“Bkk”  in  abbreviation),  being  in  the  possession  of  the  Yamato  Bunkakan  museum.   It  represents  one  panel  (page)  of  text  and  two  pictures.  The  kotobagaki  corresponds  almost   exactly  to  a  portion  of  the  Kyōdai  book  text,  and  the  two  pictures  are  independent  from  either   of  the  preceding  two  sets  and  thus  represent  the  third  illustration  set.             4.   Okuni   Kabuki   Kozu       阿国歌舞伎古図   In   this   thesis,   it   is   referred   to   as   “Kottōshū   Fragments”  (“Kt”  in  abbreviation),  being  contained  in  one  chapter  of  a  book  called  Kottōshū,   published   in   the   early   19th   century,   in   which   the   preceding   Bunkakan   fragments   were   reprinted   in   woodblock.   It   is   not   clear   whether   it   was   made   as   a  copy   directly   from   the   Bunkakan   fragments   or   from   some   other   copy   that   shared   its   origin   with   the   Bunkakan   fragments.                                                                                                                                                                               Each  of  these  sources  has  several  names  by  which  they  have  been  called  by  various  researchers.  Many   of  those  names,  when  collated  in  a  list,  are  too  similar  to  be  useful,  and  that  is  why  some  of  them  are   referred  to  by  descriptive  names  in  order  to  bring  out  their  respective  identity  and  origin  more  clearly.     All   four   Okuni   sōshi   are   e-­‐sōshi   or   “illustrated   books”   in   which   a   light   and   simple   text   (kotobagaki)  is  combined  with  pictures  (e).  They  are  generally  taken  as  part  of  the  body  of  Nara-­‐e-­‐ hon,  richly  decorated  illustrated  books  produced  in  early  1600s.   Textually,  there  are  actually  only  two  materials  –  1.  Kyōdai  book  (Kuni  Jo-­‐kabuki  Ekotoba)  and   2.  Kabuki  Saushi,  because  the  remaining  two  are  the  same  texts,  nearly  identical  to  a  portion  of  1.   (with   4.   probably   a   woodblock   print   of   3.).   Pictorially,   however,   the   Okuni   sōshi   represent   three   sources  –  1.,  2.  and  3.       The  Kyōdai  Book   The  Kyōdai  book  kotobagaki  has  the  form  of  a  libretto—an  early  kabuki  play.  It  describes  Izumo  no   Okuni’s  arrival  at  Kyoto  in  the  springtime  and  the  reader  witnesses  her  starting  to  perform  her  dance   at   cherry   blossom   viewing   parties.   The   season   of   cherry   blossoms   is   in   the   second   or   third   lunar   month,  but  other  sources  mention  the  fourth  or  fifth  month  as  the  time  when  Okuni’s  kabuki  odori   was  danced  in  Kyoto  in  1603  (Tokiyoshi  1997,  9-­‐10).  This  seasonal  discrepancy  can  be  explained  in   such  a  way  that  the  latter  occasion  was  not  the  first  one  and  that  Izumo  no  Okuni  had  performed  in   1  This  is  for  two  reasons:  firstly,  to  reflect  the  fact  that  its  name,  if  given  in  kana,  is  even  nowadays   spelled  さうし  (i.  e.  saushi)  rather  than  そうし  (soushi),  and,  secondly,  to  distinguish  this  work   clearly  from  the  generic  umbrella  term  kabuki  sōshi.   The SOAS Journal of Postgraduate Research, Vol. 8 (2015) 17   Kyoto   before,   with   her   first   Kyoto   spring   mentioned   in   the   Kyōdai   book   happening   some   time   previously.  This  would  also  mean  that  she  might  really  have  started  her  Kyoto  career  performing  in   the  yayako  (“baby”)  odori  with  which  some  of  the  period’s  references  (Tokiyoshi  1997,  9-­‐10)    relate  a   dancer  by  the  name  of  Kuni,  and  that  only  later  her  performances  became  distinct  from  other  dances,   winning  fame  under  the  new  name  of  kabuki  odori.   Allegedly,  the  year  1603  was  a  fateful  one  for  Okuni.  Nihon  Rekishi  Daijiten  records  the  results   of  the  research  of  various  historical  documents  which  more  or  less  confirmed  what  is  stated  in  the   Kyōdai  book,  namely  that  Nagoya  Sanzaburō,  the  “kabukimono”  (see  below)  and  Okuni’s  lover,  died  in   a  skirmish  in  that  year,  4th    month  10th  day  (or  5m  3d)  (Kawade  1958  “Nagoya  Sanzaburō”).  It  might   be  this  date  and  this  occasion  which  marked  Okuni’s  special  addition  to  her  previous  kabuki  skits.  Her   performances   probably   contained   the   life-­‐acclaiming   tradition   of   furyū   processions,   the   mirth   of   yayako  odori  and  the  erotic  flavour  connected  with  the  kabukimono  figure.  This  time,  she  mixed  in  yet   another   flavour—   the   macabre   topic   of   the   spirit   of   the   dead   Nagoya   appearing   during   her   performance.  For  a  topic  like  this,  she  quite  naturally  chose  the  classical  nō  model  of  a  mugen  (dream-­‐ and-­‐spectre)  play,  to  create  a  tantalizing  effect  on  Kyoto’s  audiences.     The  libretto  containing  this  new  and  surprising  skit  is  known  to  us  as  the  kotobagaki  of  Kuni   Jo-­‐kabuki   Ekotoba,   and   partly   from   quotations   in   Kabuki   Saushi.   The   authenticity   of   these   texts   is   questionable,  as  is  their  authorship.  For  the  lack  of  evidence  to  the  contrary,  they  are  here  considered   as  largely  based  on  the  very  texts  that  were  uttered  in  Okuni  kabuki  performances,  a  record  of  them,   more  or  less  precise,  from  the  memory  of  the  Okuni  sōshi  authors.  We  might  never  know  if  Okuni   wrote  the  extant  libretto  herself  or  whether  it  was  someone  from  her  troupe,  or  indeed  a  later  author   who   put   down   in   writing   what   they   had   remembered   from   the   performances;   at   this   stage   of   research,  this  is  impossible  to  establish.  The  truth  is  that  what  Okuni  sōshi  presents  as  the  libretto  of   Okuni’s  performance  has  much  in  common  with  nō,  as  will  be  shown  below.   In   a   way,   Okuni   kabuki   can   be   said   to   have   returned   to   the   religious—the   topic   probably   abandoned  by  the  yayako  odori  dancers;  nevertheless,  rather  than  “religious”,  the  new  performance   must   have   been   perceived   as   a   new,   popular   kind   of   “nō”,   hued   by   what   Hattori   characterized   as   “kabukitaru”  (Hattori  2003,  80)  touch  which  perhaps  included  a  distant  reflection  of  the  Kirishitan   idea  of  resurrection.           The SOAS Journal of Postgraduate Research, Vol. 8 (2015) 18   The  Nō  Structure  of  the  Kyōdai  Play   Kuni  Jo-­‐kabuki  Ekotoba  starts  in  a  perfectly  nō-­‐like  way,  both  in  content  and  form.  Each  classical  nō   drama   has   the   structure   of   particular   “modules,”   to   use   Royall   Tyler’s   wording   (Tyler   2004),   called   shōdan  (小段).  Some  of  the  shōdans  are  of  general  character,  like  ageuta  (higher-­‐register  song)  and   sageuta   (lower-­‐register   song),   some   are   specific   as   to   their   theme   or   location   within   the   overall   structure  of  the  play,  e.g.  nanori,  placed  in  the  opening  part  of  the  play,  is  the  portion  of  text,  and  of   action,   in   which   the   arriving   waki   figure   introduces   himself.   The   nō   shōdans   are   furthermore   characterized  for  their  musical  properties  –  whether  they  are  sung  or  just  recited  (fushi  -­‐  kotoba),  and,   if  sung,  whether  they  share  their  singing  rhythm  with  that  of  the  drums  or  not  (hyōshi-­‐ai  –  hyōshi-­‐ awazu).   It  is  next  to  impossible  to  get  an  idea  of  some  performance  of  the  past  if  no  historical  material   survives.  In  the  case  of  early  Okuni  kabuki,  we  are  fortunate  enough  to  have  the  Okuni  sōshi  materials   to  rely  on.  They  can  be  considered  a  record,  more  or  less  exact,  of  the  action  on  the  stage.   The  earliest  kabuki  text  known  to  us,  Kuni  Jo-­‐kabuki  Ekotoba,  has  the  literary  form  of  a  play   text.   Ogasawara   acknowledged   that   the   performance   is   depicted   in   nō-­‐style   (2006,   158).   A   close   formal  analysis  of  the  Okuni  sōshi  has  revealed  that  Kuni  Jo-­‐kabuki  Ekotoba  starts  with  an  exact  nō   shōdan  structure.  It  cannot  be  said  in  what  way  the  individual  shōdans  were  declaimed,  and  the  acting   style  of  the  performance  is  only  testified  to  by  a  dozen  pictures  accompanying  the  text;  nevertheless,   the  nō  structure  of  the  opening  part  can  be  identified  very  clearly.  The  shōdans  are  arranged  in  a   sequence   typical   for   nō   and   their   rhythmical   syllabic   characteristics   fall   exactly   into   those   of   nō   –   melodical  fushi  shōdans  are  in  the  particular  syllabic  7-­‐5  rhythm  typical  for  performing  arts.  Moreover,   the  pictures  show  a  regular  nō  orchestra  –  two  hand  drums,  one  baton  drum  and  a  flute,  and  it  can  be   inferred   from   these   indices   that   the   orchestral   and   melodic   quality   of   the   early   Okuni   kabuki   performance  was  based  on  nō  music.   What  follows  is  the  formal  analysis  of  Kuni  Jo-­‐kabuki  Ekotoba  as  a  libretto,  the  characteristics   of  which  are  compared  with  those  of  classical  nō  plays.  The  names  of  the  “shōdan”  in  the  kabuki  text   are  given  in  quotation  marks  to  distinguish  them  from  nō  shōdan  names.  For  easier  orientation,  the   numbers  of  columns  in  the  original  manuscript  are  given  and,  when  necessary,  the  transcription  of   Japanese  passages  are  given,  too.   The  Kyōdai  play—text  (kotobagaki)  of  the  Kuni  Jo-­‐kabuki  Ekotoba—starts  with  the  passage:   The SOAS Journal of Postgraduate Research, Vol. 8 (2015) 19   “1.  Shidai”   1.  Miyako  no  haru  no  hanazakari  [word  repetition  mark]   2.  kabuki  odori  ni  ideu  yo.       The  springtime  blossoming  in  the  Capital  -­‐   let’s  go  to  kabuki  odori.     This   passage   fits   perfectly   the   characteristics   of   the   opening   shōdan   called   shidai   by   which   most  classical  nō  plays  typically  start:  it  has  the  nō  shidai  metre  –  a  repetition  of  the  7-­‐5  ku  (“stanza”),   i.  e.  twice  7-­‐5,  followed  by  an  incomplete  ku  of  7-­‐4  syllables.  The  shidai  in  nō  is  a  song  with  a  distinct   melodic  pattern  even  today  (in  contrast  to  most  of  the  vocal  parts  nowadays  which  tend  to  be  rather   monotonous).  Although  obviously  no  melodic  characteristic  can  be  identified  for  this  Kyōdai  “shidai,”   it  can,  nevertheless,  be  hypothesised  that  the  Kyōdai  play  also  started  with  a  melodically  interesting   song  intended  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  audiences  at  the  opening  of  the  performance.   “2.  Nanori”   Similar   to   classical   nō,   the   “shidai”   song   in   the   Kyōdai   play   is   followed   by   a   part   which   corresponds   to   the   nō   shōdan   of   self-­‐introduction   –   nanori   (columns   2-­‐8.).   In   nō,   nanori   follows   immediately  after  the  opening  shidai  song;  the  waki  character  declares  his  identity  and  intensions  by   it;  in  nō,  it  is  very  often  a  wandering  Buddhist  monk  who  on  his  pilgrimage  has  “reached  this  distant   place.”  In  the  Kyōdai  play,  the  character  is  Okuni,  a  Shinto  priest’s  daughter  who  has  come  all  the  way   to  dance  kabuki.  In  this,  too,  the  nō  pattern  has  been  maintained.     An  exact  translation  is  hard  to  give  here,  because  after  the  introductory  “Somosomo”  (column   2),  there  are  three  possible  translations  of  c.  3-­‐6.  depending  on  the  position  of  commas  and  in  view  of   different  possible  syntactic  interpretations:   3.  kore  wa  Izumo  no  kuni  (no?)  ōyashiro  ni  tsukaemōsu     4.  shanin  nite  sōrō  (,)  soregashi  ga  musume  ni   5.  kuni  to  mōsu  miko  no  sōrō  wo,  kabuki  odori   6.  to  mōsu  koto  wo  narawashi,  [...]     I.   I   am   a   priest(ess)   of   the   Izumo   Shrine   (shanin   nite   sōrō,   soregashi   ga   musume),   I   am   someone’s  daughter  and  they  call  me  Kuni  the  holy  maiden.  To  teach  kabuki  odori  and  to...         II.  I  am  the  daughter  of  a  certain  priest  (shanin  nite  sōrō  soregashi  ga  musume)  of  the  Izumo   Shrine  and  they  call  me  Kuni  the  holy  maiden.  To  teach  kabuki  odori  and  to...     The SOAS Journal of Postgraduate Research, Vol. 8 (2015) 20   III.   A   certain   priest   of   the   Izumo   Shrine   (shanin   nite   sourō   soregashi   ga,     musume)   had   a   daughter   (musume   ni,   kuni   to   mōsu   miko   no   sōrō   wo,   kabuki   odori   to   mōsu   koto   wo   narawashi),  whom  they  call  Kuni  the  holy  maiden,  and  he  taught  to  her  kabuki  odori.     And  the  remaining  “nanori”  words  translate:   (c.  6-­‐8)  [...]  Because  the  times  of  the  Heavenly  rule  [of  the  Emperor]  are  so  peaceful,  I  humbly   went  up  to  the  Capital,  thinking  I  would  try  and  dance  there.   In  nō,  nanori,  unlike  the  shidai,  is  metrically  free  and  melodically  is  kotoba,  which  means  that   it  follows  the  natural  intonation  of  the  spoken  Japanese  utterance  –  only  ignoring  the  accentual  falls;   the  Kyōdai  play  “nanori”  is  also  metrically  free  and  it  can  be  surmised  that  it  was  declaimed  in  an   intonation  similar  to  nō  kotoba.     “3.  Ageuta”   Following  exactly  the  nō  rules,  the  next  part  is  a  song  in  the  5:  7-­‐5  rhythm,  the  flowery   depiction  of  the  pilgrim’s  route.  Generally,  it  is  called  michiyuki  and  in  nō  it  is  often  the  ageuta  song  in   the  higher  register.  We  can  imagine  that  the  Okuni  kabuki  singing  might  have  been  a  variation  of  this   nō  singing  style.     Below,  the  full  Japanese  original  of  the  “ageuta”  is  given  in  transcription  so  as  to  show  the   syllabic  metre  of  5:  7-­‐5.     It  is  difficult  to  give  a  clear,  unambiguous  translation  of  these  lines  which  are,  as  indeed  are   many  passages  of  the  Okuni  sōshi  texts,  full  of  poetic  allusions  and  puns  –  especially  the  traditional   poetic  figures  of  classical  poetry,  makurakotoba  (“pillow  words”  similar  to  ornate  epithets),   kakekotoba  (“pivot  words”  –  puns  based  on  homophony)  and  utamakura  (“pillow  of  the  poem”  –   poetical  toponyms).  These  features  indicate  that  the  Okuni  sōshi  texts  are  clearly  based  on  nō   conventions.   9.  Furusato  ya     Izumo  no  kuni  wo  ato  ni  mi=(10.)=te,     suwe  wa  kasumite  haru  no  hi  no,     naga=(11.)=to  no  kō  wo  suginureba,     kakaru  miyo  (12.)  ni  mo  au  no  shuku,     michi  sebakaranu  hiro=(13.)=shima  ya,     toiyoru  miya  wa  Itsukushima,   14.  fune  no  tomari  ni  narata  no  hama,     tsuri  suru  (15.)  waza  wa  ushimado  no,     tsuki  ni  akashi  no  ura=(16.)=zutai,     nao  yuku  sue  wa  yo  no  naka  no,     nani=(17.)=wa  no  koto  mo  yoshi-­‐ashi  no,     The SOAS Journal of Postgraduate Research, Vol. 8 (2015) 21   wakaba  ni  kaze  (18.)  no  fuku  shima  no,     minato  no  nami  no  osamare=(19.)=ru,     miyo  ni  wa  ima  zo  ausaka  ya,     isogu  (20.)  kokoro  no  hodo  mo  naku     miyako  ni  hayaku  tsuki=(21.)=nikeri.     9.  My  birthplace,  the  province  of  Izumo,  I  left   10.  behind,  in  the  hazed-­‐over  distance  of  a  spring  day,  I  passed  Nagato  2   11-­‐2.  the  provincial  capital,  stayed  at  3  Ōno  =  “the  vast  [Ō]  plain  where  one  meets  [au]  with”   such  [=excellent]  times,     12-­‐3  Oh,  Hiroshima  with  no  narrow  roads!  –  there  the  shrine  to  visit  is  Itsukushima   14.  the  ship  stopped  at  the  beach  of  Narata,  the  fishing   15-­‐6.  skills  at  Ushimado,4  the  moon  there  linked  the  Akashi  shore,  and  the  further  goal  of  my   journey  –  the  centre  of  the  world  5  –  Naniwa   17.  the  words  of  leaves,  good?  bad?  6  the  young  leaves  in  the  wind   18.  blowing  through  the  Island  of  Happiness  7  whose  port  waves  calm  down   19.  in  this  fair  era  with  which  we  now  meet  at  the  Meeting  Slope!  With  a  hurry   20.  in  my  heart,  in  no  time  did  I  quickly  reach  the  Capital.     “4.  Tsukizerifu”   Again  in  the  style  of  nō,  the  “ageuta”  michiyuki  is  followed  by  the  shōdan  “tsukizerifu”  –  lit.   words  about  arrival:   22.  And  here  –  as  I  came  to  the  Capital,  (23-­‐4)  I  felt  like  viewing  the  imperial  city  cherry   blossoms  with  a  peaceful  mind.   The  clear  structure  of  a  sequence  of  nō-­‐like  shōdan  is  gradually  lost  as  the  performance   continues  with  a  portion  of  text  (c.  24-­‐43)  and  the  nenbutsu  odori  (c.  44-­‐65),  before  another  nō-­‐like   shōdan  was  identified  as  “issei”  by  Tsubouchi  Shōyō  (1925,  8):   “5.  Issei”   In  mugen  nō,  issei  is  the  preparatory  shōdan  designed  to  evoke  the  mood  of  expectation  of   the  supranatural.  It  is  usually  the  arrival  of  the  bōrei,  the  spirit-­‐of-­‐the-­‐dead,  and  this  is  exactly  what   happens  in  the  Kyōdai  book:   66.  Attracted  by  the  voice  of  the  nenbutsu,   2  Province  on  the  northern  coast  of  the  westernmost  part  of  Honshu,  west  of  Izumo.   3  A  series  of  puns  follows.   4  A  port  in  the  southeast  of  Okayama  prefecture.   5  A  makurakotoba,  perhaps  an  allusion  or  a  quotation  from  a  tanka.   6  Yoshi-­‐ashi  no  -­‐  a  refrain  famous  from  Zeami’s  Yamamba.   7  Pun  through  pivot  fuku.   The SOAS Journal of Postgraduate Research, Vol. 8 (2015) 22   67.  let  me  leave  the  sphere  of  sin-­‐caused  barriers.  Hey,  Okuni,   68.  allow  me  to  humbly  talk  to  you.  Do  you  not  recognize  me?   69.  In  the  longing  for  our  past,  have  I     70.  come  all  the  way  here.     By  this,  the  clear  nō-­‐like  shōdan  list  is  exhausted  and  the  text  continues  in  its  own   independent  way  -­‐  the  nō  turns  into  a  new  style  which  can  be  already  designated  kabuki  as  the   performance  goes  on.       The  Texts  of  the  Okuni  Sōshi   The  Kyōdai  book  is  a  libretto,  or  at  least  has  the  form  of  one,  and  conveys  an  idea  possibly  very  close   to  what  actually  was  played  at  Okuni  kabuki  performances.  On  the  other  hand,  Kabuki  Saushi  is  in  the   form  of  an  objective,  third-­‐person  observer’s  rendering  of  Okuni’s  life.  It  narrates  the  popularity  of   kabuki  and  offers  impressive  insights  into  her  performances.  It  is  a  monogatari,  i.  e.  work  of  prose   with   a   focus   different   from   the   Kyōdai   book.   The   account   is   about   Okuni’s   life,   followed   by   what   seems  to  be  a  spectator’s  observation  of  Okuni’s  performance,  and  the  ending  is  also  different.  Kabuki   Saushi  makes  evident  that  during  the  several  years  presumably  dividing  the  birth  of  the  Kyōdai  and   Kabuki  Saushi  texts,  Okuni  had  become  a  legend,  a  character  not  only  of  the  dramatic  form  of  early   kabuki   but   also   one   of   early   Edo   prose—perhaps   even   storytelling.   This   is   one   of   the   reasons   why   Kabuki  Saushi  is  regarded  as  a  historically  less  reliable  source  in  which  the  original  historical  reality   was   literarily   reshaped.   It   indeed   has   the   aura   of   reminiscence   of   a   time   long   gone—gone   forever   perhaps—like  the  words  in  columns  212,  213:        “Among  the  people  of  old,  some  went  to  see  the  kabuki  theatre  to  console  their  hearts.”     This  might  reflect  the  atmosphere  after  the  series  of  bans  had  started,  when  kabuki  felt  like  something   gone  forever.  Kabuki  Saushi  is  a  tale  in  which  poetic  language  narrates  the  story  of  both  Okuni’s  life   and   performance,   inseparably   entangled   together.   It   could   be   imagined   that,   originally,   it   was   an   oral  storytelling  piece  in  which  the  narrator  depicted  everything  in  a  colourful  storyteller‘s  style,  later   put  down  in  writing  and  complemented  with  illustrations  to  make  an  attractive  Nara-­‐e-­‐hon.  It  relates   the  tale  of  Okuni  coming  to  Kyoto,  more  amazing  than  all  the  beauties  of  literature,  and  shows  her   dance.  She  is  invited  to  the  Imperial  Palace  and  gets  a  court  title  as  a  reward.  Rich  daimyō  lavished   gold   and   silver   on   her   and   she   has   a   residence   built   next   to   the   Kitano   shrine   in   northern   Kyoto.   However,  she  cannot  bear  the  idle  life  and  starts  dancing  again.  Crowds  come  to  see  her  performance   in  the  same  way  as  they  come  to  the  Kitano  deity.  A  description  of  the  crowded  auditorium  follows,   The SOAS Journal of Postgraduate Research, Vol. 8 (2015) 23   and  of  the  suspense  of  expectation  before  Okuni  finally  appears  on  the  scene.  Her  pose,  her  costume   and  dance  are  described  in  sumptuous  detail.  Nagoya  Sanza  appears  and  they  dance  together.   After  a  detailed  rendering  of  the  performance(s?),  there  comes  the  leave-­‐taking  of  Okuni  and   Nagoya  Sanza.  They  wake  up  after  sleeping  together,  and  she  sees  off  her  lover  who  is  returning  -­‐  to   the  other  world,  supposedly.  The  ensuing  words  “waking  up  from  a  dream”  evoke,  in  a  nō-­‐like  style   again,  the  authorial  intention  that  not  only  Okuni’s  sleep  but  perhaps  the  whole  performance  was  a   dream,  one  in  which  Okuni  was  reunited  with  the  deceased  Sanza.  The  closing  words  of  Kabuki  Saushi   describe  the  great  benefit  that  can  be  drawn  from  kabuki,  how  the  spirit  gets  cheered  up  and  how  it   all  “okashi!  okashi!”  (“is  amusing/funny”),  which  are  its  closing  words.   The  two  texts  share  many  passages  which  are  identical,  or  similar  with  only  slight  divergence.   It  is  these  discrepancies,  together  with  the  style  of  the  illustrations,  which  have  led  Japanese  scholars   to  presume  that  the  Kuni  Jo-­‐kabuki  Ekotoba  (or  its  original,  if  the  preserved  material  is  a  copy)  is  older   than  Kabuki  Saushi.     The  Bunkakan  text,  on  the  other  hand,  is  a  fragment  corresponding  to  columns  116-­‐136  of  the   Kyōdai  book  and  represents  the  first  Jōruri  modoki  (“jōruri  imitation”)  song  along  with  its  introductory   words,  ending  with  the  first  two  syllables  of  the  second  Jōruri  modoki  song.  A  comparison  of  the  ten   differences  between  the  Bunkakan  and  Kyōdai  texts  seems  to  indicate  an  earlier  provenance  of  the   Bkk,  although,  on  the  other  hand,  Hattori’s  analysis  of  the  pictures  in  the  Bkk  showed  that  they  might   be  the  closest  to  the  real  Okuni  performance   (Hattori  1968,  8).   The  most  important  structural  difference  between  the  Kyōdai  and  Kabuki  Saushi  performance   is  the  lack  of  nenbutsu  (Buddhist  chanting  invoking  the  spirit  of  the  dead  to  appear)  in  Kabuki  Saushi.   Based  on  its  diction  and  pictorial  style,  Kabuki  Saushi  has  been  considered  as  the  younger  of  the  two   (Shōyō,  Hattori).  However,  the  fact  that  nenbutsu  is  not  mentioned  here  does  not  necessarily  mean   that  it  was  not  there—the  author  might  just  have  chosen  not  to  mention  it.  Nevertheless,  it  could  be   hypothesised   that   precisely   the   absence   of   the   nenbutsu   skit,   with   Nagoya   appearing   without   any   previous   religious   ritual,   might   indicate   an   older   form,   a   phase   in   which   nenbutsu   was   not   yet   integrated  into  the  kabuki  performance  but  in  which  Nagoya  was  already  appearing  as  returning  from   the  afterworld  “feeling  attachment  to  Okuni’s  kabuki”  (Ss  c  88-­‐89).  The  described  performance,  if  a   single  one  at  all,  is  rather  incoherent  in  comparison  with  the  Kyōdai  play  which  would,  thus,  reflect  a   newer,  more  mature  version  with  some  further  reworking  done  in  which  the  nenbutsu  was  added  as   the  dramatic  element  immediately  connected  with  Nagoya’s  arrival.       The SOAS Journal of Postgraduate Research, Vol. 8 (2015) 24   The  Kabukibito   The  depiction  of  kabukibito  and  their  ways  was  one  of  the  new  topics  early  kabuki  introduced,  and   according   to   some   scholars   was   the   nucleus,   the   kabuki   itself.   The   Tōdaiki   chronicle   (of   unknown   authorship   or   date   of   compilation)   for   the   fourth   (rather   than   fifth)   month   of   1603   says:   “At   the   moment,  the  kabuki  dance  is  in  vogue.  A  shrine  maiden  from  the  country  of  Izumo  (her  name  is  Kuni,   yet   she   is   not   pretty)   was   the   first   to   dance   it,   coming   to   the   Capital.”   It   goes   on   to   say   that   she   imitated  the  outrageous  men  with  their  strange  clothes  and  swords  and  their  ways  in  the  tea  house.   The  whole  city  was  thrilled  about  her  and  she  even  danced  in  the  Fushimi  Palace  built  by  Hideyoshi   (Ihara  1972,  5).   These   outrageous   men   with   strange   clothes   and   swords   were   the   kabukibito.   Tsubaki   translates  kabuki  as  wild  and  takes  Okuni  dressing  as  a  man  for  a  reflection  of  the  “wild“  (kabuki)  spirit   that  became  the  heart  of  kabuki.  He  maintains  that  the  early  kabuki  era  was  marked  by  this  kabuki   spirit,  which  was  taken  up  by  the  machishū,  Kyoto’s  new  townspeople  with  commercial  wealth,  and   became  one  of  the  driving  forces  behind  the  early  modern  culture  (Tsubaki  2002,  1).  The  kabuki  social   movement  tried  to  oppose  the  medieval  set  of  rules  and  regulations,  and  was  supported  by  a  new   stratum  of  townspeople  (Kawade  1958,  134).  It  seems  that  this  driving  force  of  modern  culture  had   a  negative,  violent  aspect  to  it;  concretely  speaking,  kabukimono  were  gangs  of  dissolute  young  men   around  1600  who,  dressed  in  outrageous  clothes  and  carrying  overly  long  swords,  swaggered  about   the   streets   of   Kyoto   causing   trouble  (Shively  1991,  749)   and   made   life  in  the  cities,  chiefly  in  Edo,   insecure   before   the   Tokugawa   shogunate   took   over   (Barth   1972,   194).   This   meaning   for   the   word   kabuki  is  also  found  in  the  Portuguese  dictionary  Vocabulario  da  lingoa  de  Iapam   (Leims  1990,  67)    as   early  as  1603,  the  same  year  as  the  first  record  of  kabuki  odori.  The  compilers  of  the  Vocabulario  were   active  in  Kyushu  and  obviously  could  not  follow  the  most  recent  goings  on  in  Kyoto,  yet  in  its  fifth   meaning,   “cabuqi”   is   characterized   as   losing   one’s   control   or   taking   more   liberty   than   is   given   in   something  or  in  trying  to  answer  more  quickly  or  hastily  than  appropriate;  “cabuqimono”  and  “cabuita   fito”  is  a  person  of  these  characteristics,  with  the  addition  “or  is  happy  more  than  appropriate  when   hearing   news   etc”   which   corresponds   to   the   eccentric   properties   kabukimono   seem   to   have   been   known   by.   Mezur   cites   Ortolani’s   view   that   many   of   the   kabukimono   were   executed   for   their   subversive  behaviour  (Ortolani  1990,  164-­‐5)  The  troubles  kabukimono  caused  lasted  for  some  time;   Barth   mentions   that   the   battle   of   Osaka   Castle   in   1614-­‐15   contributed   to   the   worsening   of   the   situation  because  after  it,  rōnin  who  had  lost  their  occupation  went  to  Edo  and  other  cities,  seeking  to   vent  their  war  frustration  and  aggression,  roaming  the  streets  in  shocking  dress  and  hairdos  and  often   engaging  in  acts  of  violence,  riots  and  indecencies  (Ortolani  1990,  164).  It  was  not  until  the  end  of  the   The SOAS Journal of Postgraduate Research, Vol. 8 (2015) 25   17th  century  that  the  shogunate  finally  managed  to  get  these  gangs,  later  also  called  hatamoto  yakko   and  machi  yakko,  under  control  (Barth  1972,  194).   It  is  therefore  possible  that  Okuni  kabuki,  besides  being  inspired  by  kabukimono,  might  have   influenced  the  kabukimono  “vogue”  as  well.  In  connection  with  the  new  kabuki  performances,  the   words   kabukibito,   identical   with   otokodate,   seems   to   have   changed   meaning,   informed   by   Okuni   kabuki  skits.  The  verb  kabuku  came  to  mean  “to  walk  about  in  unusual  outfit,  to  behave  (speak  and   act)  in  a  sensual,  erotic  (好色めいた)  manner"  (Hirano  1989,  509),  which  is  the  meaning  obviously   connected  with  the  kabuki  tea  house  skits  of  Okuni  kabuki,  and  the  Okuni  sōshi  also  use  it  in  the  sense   of  “dancing  (the  specific  dance  called)  kabuki”.  Whether  the  previous  references  to  the  name  Kuni   actually  referred  to  the  founder  of  kabuki  odori  or  not,  the  later  reference  from  1603  marked  her   performance  as  distinct  from  both  the  previous  yayako  odori  and  boys‘s  dances  by  introducing  the   figure  of  kabukimono  and  basing  her  skits  on  it.   Ogasawara  writes  that  the  epoch-­‐making  idea  for  Okuni  to  include  in  her  performance  the   topic  of  chaya  kayoi  –  frequenting  the  “tea  house”  (presumably  one  of  the  various  kinds  of  brothels)  -­‐   might  indeed  be  connected,  as  the  folk  rendering  has  it,  with  the  fact  that  she  shared  the  stage  with   kyōgen  actors.  She  gained  eternal  fame  for  herself  by  adopting  what  represented  the  “the  climax  of   the   times”   (Ogasawara   1975,   142)   –   the   chaya   asobi,   the   most   topical   theme   of   fashionable   amusement.  According  to  Ogasawara’s  marebito  theory,  marebito,  the  visiting  deity,  was  for  the  first   time  in  history  united  with  the  chaya  goer  as  a  hero;  the  shrine  maidens  welcoming  the  deity  were   transformed  into  the  chaya  women  or  prostitutes;  these  four  character  types  merged  in  a  single  skit   and   determined   the   basic   structure   that   kabuki   would   continue   to   have   from   that   point   on   (Ogasawara  1975,  142-­‐3).     Performance  Structure  in  the  Sōshi   It  is  clear  from  the  content  of  the  two  sōshi  texts  that  they  refer  to  different  performances,  because— although   some   of   the   numbers   of   the   programme   are   similar—most   of   them   actually   differ.   The   springtime   performance   described   in   Kabuki   Saushi   is   longer   and   more   composite,   and   the   vital   difference  is  that  the  nō  structure  seen  in  the  Kyōdai  text  is  only  represented  in  the  former  by  the   opening  shidai:  (Ss  c  41-­‐2)     The  springtime  blossoming  in  the  Capital  -­‐  let’s  go  to  kabuki  odori.       The SOAS Journal of Postgraduate Research, Vol. 8 (2015) 26   Ogasawara  called  the  nō  structure  in  the  Kyōdai  text  as  a  “stitching  together  in  the  nō-­‐like   manner”   (Ogasawara   2006,   108)   of   individual   skits;   this   would   mean   that   they   were   originally   independent   skits   –   nenbutsu   odori,   chaya-­‐gayoi   (or   chaya   no   asobi)   and   furo-­‐agari,   additionally   connected  to  each  other  to  form  the  integral  plot  of  the  early  kabuki  play.   While  the  Kyōdai  book   presents  the  succession  of  scenes  as  one  performance,  it  cannot  be  clearly  established  from  Kabuki   Saushi  whether  it  is  a  realistic  description  of  a  real  performance  as  it  uninterruptedly  proceeded,  or   just  a  collection  of  impressions  of  individual  scenes  not  necessarily  in  their  sequential  order  in  one   successive  performance  programme.  This  would  also  account  for  the  absence  of  the  nenbutsu  number,   which  might  just  have  been  omitted  by  the  author  for  some  reason.     The  structure  of  the  Okuni  kabuki  performance  as  presented  by  the  two  Okuni  sōshi  texts  can   be  compared  as  follows  -­‐  the  corresponding  parts  are  underlined:    Kyōdai  book  (Kuni  Jo-­‐kabuki  Ekotoba)   1.  nō-­‐like  opening:                      shidai,                      nanori,                      ageuta  (=  michiyuki),                    tsukizerifu,   2.  Okuni  starts  dancing                    issei   3.  Nenbutsu  odori   4.  Sanza  appearing   5.  Kabuki  odori:                      I.-­‐V.   6.  Kaze  mo  fukanu  passage     7.  Jōruri  modoki                        I.,  II.     8.  leavetaking  (offstage?)   9.  honjimono  style  ending                                                                                         Kabuki  Saushi     1.  nō-­‐like  opening:                      shidai   2.  yayako  odori  style  musume  odori     3.  kyōgen:  Narihira  kyōran   4.  Sanza  appearing   5.  Inviting  Sanza  in     6.  Kabuki  odori:                          I.,  V.,  IV.,  III.,  II.,  +  three  more  (VI.,  VII.,  VIII.)   7.  audience  joins  in  dancing,  12  more  songs     8.  (as  encore)  Furoagari  dance     (offstage:      9.  leavetaking   10.  “okashi!”  ending)   The SOAS Journal of Postgraduate Research, Vol. 8 (2015) 27   Okuni’s  dance  in  the  Kabuki  Saushi  starts  amidst  the  cheerful  and  breathtaking  atmosphere  of   blossoming  cherry  trees.  Similarly,  it  is  in  this  season  that  the  Kyōdai  book  has  Okuni  come  to  Kyoto   and  start  dancing  there.  As  Shively  writes,  it  is  evident  from  popular  stories  and  Kyoto  guides  that   visiting  temples  and  shrines  on  days  of  special  events  was  a  favourite  form  of  entertainment  (Shively   1991,  739),  and  the  cherry  tree  season  was  the  best.  In  the  Kyōdai  book,  Okuni  starts  performing  on   the  25th  day  of  the  1st  month:  (Kd  c  41-­‐43)  this  is  the  gathering  of  all  people,  high  and  low,  on  the  25th   day  of  the  New  Year,  visiting  the  shrine,  and  at  this  occasion,  I  would  like  to  start  kabuki  odori.   As  stated  above,  one  of  the  possibilities  is  that  Kabuki  Saushi  is  based  on  an  oral  storytelling   tradition,   perhaps   of   the   kojōruri   or   sekkyō   style:   most   of   the   book   is   prosodic,   in   the   5-­‐7   or   7-­‐5   syllabic  rhythm,  and  not  only  in  the  quotations  of  the  songs  on  the  stage,  but  even  the  narrator’s   words   are   often   prosodic,   which   might   suggest   the   storytelling   tradition.   A  lot   of   the   narrator‘s   attention  has  previously  been  given  to  Okuni‘s  life  in  Kyoto,  her  success,  recognition  and  the  fortune   she  achieved.  As  the  plot  progresses  towards  her  performance,  the  verses  assume  more  and  more  the   7-­‐5  structure,  which  is  what  I  term  the  stage  ku,  typical  of  performing  arts  from  the  shirabyōshi  times   (12th  century),  as  discussed  in  Rumánek  2012.   Thus,   Okuni   starts   dancing   at   a  cherry   blossom   viewing   venue   in   the   most   gorgeous   atmosphere  imaginable,  with  a  classical  poem  quoted8 ,  and  this  is  when  the  words  about  the  spring   time   in   the   Capital   are   sung   –   which   is   the   opening   shōdan   of   the   Kyōdai   nō   beginning.   In   Kabuki   Saushi,  however,  these  are  not  the  opening  words  of  the  performance  because  they  are  followed  by   another  narratological  rupture  when  performance  quotation  transforms  into  narration  again,  offering   detailed  descriptions  of  the  atmosphere  in  the  auditorium  before  the  performance,  the  suspense  of   the   expecting   spectators,   in   contrast   to   the   nō-­‐like   straightforward   dramatic   pace   with   which   the   Kyōdai   play   progresses.   Kabuki   Saushi,   it   seems,   makes   free   use   of   the   original   libretto   for   its   storytelling   purposes,   choosing   from   it   freely   according   to   the   author’s   (perhaps   narrator‘s)   preference.   At   last,   Okuni   appears   and   performs   her   first   dance   in   Kabuki   Saushi,   after   which   she   disappears  into  the  dressing  room  again.   What  follows  in  Kabuki  Saushi  is  called  “kyōgen”  (described  as  “mai-­‐kyōgen  of  Narihira’s  love   monogurui”  in  Geinōshi  Kenkyūkai    1986,  14)  and  is  a  (presumably  dancing)  piece  about  Narihira,  a   figure   based   on   the   9th   century   prince-­‐made-­‐commoner   and   poet,   famous   for   his   (often   highly   scandalous)   love   affairs.   The   narrator   comments   that   Narihira’s   heart   was   in   frenzy   because   of   his   8  It  is  a  tanka  by  Sosei  Hōshi  (Kokinshū  56)  in  which  the  springtime  Kyoto  of  the  cherry  blossom   season  was  represented  by  the  metaphor  of  brocade.   The SOAS Journal of Postgraduate Research, Vol. 8 (2015) 28   dissipation   and   his   figure   is   described   with   the   belt   worn   very   low,   wound   around   a   womanish   kimono.  From  the  description,  it  can  be  imagined  that  this  piece  was  done  in  a  humorous,  parodic  way   when  Narihira  “sings  about  all  forms  of  love  in  all  sorts  of  kouta,  dancing  along,”  and  this  parody  is   designated  as  Narihira  kyōran.     In  his  analysis  of  Kabuki  Saushi,  Hattori  (Geinōshi  Kenkyūkai  1986,  14)  maintains  that  it  was   written   as   an   impression   of   seeing   the   wakashu   kabuki   performance.   On   the   other   hand,   Moriya   Takeshi9  sees  the  appearance  of  the  beautiful  Narihira  as  the  reflection  of  a  trend,  in  Kan’ei  (1624-­‐ 1630),  of  a  return  to  classical  topics.  Thus  Narihira,  once  a  popular  figure  in  nō,  found  his  way  into   kabuki.     Narihira   kyōran   is   the   number   in   which   gender   reversal,   a   typical   feature   of   Okuni   kabuki,   virtually  starts.  The  narration  depicts  his  outfit  as  half  male  (kazaori  cap  and  a  sword)  and  half  female   (coloured  kosode).  In  fact,  the  latter  might  be  a  subversive  reinterpretation  of  the  Heian  courtier’s   garment  which,  in  the  popular  entertainment  that  was  kabuki,  was  reinterpreted  as  womanish  and   thus  used  humorously:  (Ss  c  70-­‐72)  which  was  an  outfit  which  puzzled  everyone  –  you  saw  a  woman   and  then  realized  it  was  a  man,  or  vice  versa,  thinking  you  saw  a  man  you  then  saw  a  woman.     Narihira’s   effeminate   air   was   a   tradition   reaching   back   to   times   long   before   Okuni   kabuki.   Already  as  hero  of  the  classical  nō  Izutsu,  Narihira  wears  a  special  kind  of  costume,  combining  the   courtier’s  hat  and  specially  patterned  coat  that  identify  Narihira  with  the  female  kimono  of  the  female   character,  Aritsune’s  daughter.  “It  is  a  “half-­‐man,  half-­‐woman”  combination,  which  shows  that  while   she  is  still  Aritsune’s  daughter,  she  is  also  now  Narihira”  (Looser  2008,  186).  Thanks  to  this  between-­‐ gender-­‐ness  of  Narihira,  he  was  also  a  welcome  character  in  later  performances  of  wakashu  kabuki;   this  way  of  representation  of  the  famous  9th  century  personage  did  not  leave  the  stage  of  early  kabuki   well  into  the  yarō  kabuki  period  (Mezur  2005,  167).   Narihira  in  Kabuki  Saushi  is  a  messenger:  a  parallel  can  be  drawn  between  him  and  the  figure   of  Nagoya  Sanza  who  is  to  appear  next  and  who,  similarly  to  Narihira,  is  (c  84-­‐90)  a  womanizer  of   exquisite  taste  [...]  A  kabukimono  of  excellent  figure,  he  had  arduously  led  the  lifestyle  of  falling  in   love,  sent  messengers  with  notes  to  women  regardless  of  their  social  statuses  and  had  them  at  his   wish;  they  called  him  the  kabukimono  who  knew  how  to  flow  through  life,  but  now,  it  is  only  his  name   that  has  remained  in  the  world.   9  守屋毅  Miyako  no  geinō  (Geinōshi  Kenkyūkai  1986,  14).   The SOAS Journal of Postgraduate Research, Vol. 8 (2015) 29   The   lifestyle   of   falling   in   love   (irogonomi)   and   sending   messengers   with   notes   to   women   regardless  of  their  social  status  are  signs  which  unite  the  figures  of  Nagoya  and  Narihira.         The  Images   The  images  are  useful  in  that  they  offer  us  some  idea  about  the  possible  staging  of  Okuni  kabuki,   although  not  necessarily  a  completely  reliable  reflection  of  the  historical  reality  –  Kimbrough  warns   that  the  depictions  (especially  in  Nara-­‐e-­‐hon  kojōruri  and  sekkyō  stories)  of  performances  may  not   always  be  trustworthy  (Kimbrough  2013,  11).   What   all   the   three   illustration   sets   have   in   common   is   the   depiction   of   what   is   generally   considered  as  the  arrival  of  the  bōrei  ghost  of  Nagoya  Sanza:       1.  Bōrei  image  –  Kd  (Kd  pic.  7)       The SOAS Journal of Postgraduate Research, Vol. 8 (2015) 30   2.  Bōrei  image  -­‐  Ss  (Ss  pic.  8)      3.  Bōrei  image  –  Bkk  (Bkk  pic.  1)   In  all  three  of  them,  a  male  figure  is  seen  in  front  of  the  stage  (or,  in  the  case  of  Kabuki  Saushi,   in  front  of  an  engawa  veranda)  upon  which  Okuni  stands.  This  represents  a  break  from  the  nō  staging   since  in  the  mugen  nō  plays,  in  the  presentday  staging  at  least,  the  appearing  spirit  or  ghost  comes   onto  the  stage  down  the  hashigakari  bridge;  in  early  kabuki,  he  apparently  came  from  the  side  of  the   audience;  not  only  do  we  see  him  do  so  in  the  pictures,  but  the  kotobagaki  says  so,  too:   Who  is  it  amidst  the  gathered  crowd  of  high  and  low?  Should  I  know  you?  Who  would  you  be?   (Kd  c.  71-­‐73)   A  sense  of  humour  and  parody  can  be  identified:  “Though  it  is  humble,  please  do  deign  to   come  in,  she  invites  master  Sanza  in.  And  so,  you  a  kabukibito  of  old,  tell  us,  please,  how  the  world   used   to   be   then”   (Ss   c.   115-­‐117)   A   slight   mockery   can   be   imagined   here   as   the   tea   house   lady   is   actually  talking  to  someone  who  has  been  dead  and  by  this  kind  of  speech  she  seems  to  distance   herself  from  what  used  to  be  the  reality  of  the  deceased  person’s  life.  This  attempt  at  humour  adds  to   the   general   light   tone   and   runs   counter   to   the   common   and   supposedly   natural   awe   felt   at   the   apparition  of  a  ghost.     Hattori  writes  that  it  has  been  taken  for  granted  (Hattori  2003,  76)    that  the  chaya  no  asobi   was  the  most  favourite  and  most  typical  skit  of  early  kabuki  and  that  its  attraction  consisted  in  gender   reversal  with  Okuni  enacting  the  kabukimono  visiting  the  chaya  and  a  kyōgenshi  playing  the  chaya  no   kaka,  or  tea  house  lady.  This  cast  is  based  on  the  chaya  no  asobi  scene  in  the  Bunkakan  fragments   which  show  three  characters  presumably  representing:     1.  Okuni  playing  the  kabukimono,     The SOAS Journal of Postgraduate Research, Vol. 8 (2015) 31   2.  a  kyōgenshi  playing  the  chaya  no  kaka,  and     3.  the  saruwaka  playing  the  joker.         4.  Chaya  figures  –  Bkk  (Bkk  pic.  2)   Out  of  the  three  sets,  the  Bunkakan  images  are  considered  as  the  earliest,  and  thus  this  cast  is   supposed  to  be  the  original  one.  These  figures  can  be  seen  in  Kabuki  Saushi  as  well:     The SOAS Journal of Postgraduate Research, Vol. 8 (2015) 32   5.  Saruwaka  and  kaka  -­‐  Ss  (Ss  pic.  10)   Conclusion   It   is   nowadays   difficult   to   appreciate   fully   how   enthralling   Okuni’s   kabuki   odori   must   have   been   when  it  gained  sensational  acclaim  and  Kyoto’s  audiences  were  swept  away,  as  can  be  imagined  on   the  basis  of  the  Okuni  sōshi.  These  materials  can,  however,  give  us  an  idea  about  the  staging,  the   figures   and   the   structure.   They   complement   our   understanding   of   how   new   and   fresh   Okuni’s   performance  was.  Presumably  attractive,  sensual  and  amusing  at  the  same  time,  it  modernised  the   nō/kyōgen  theatre  tradition  to  a  point  where  the  development  took  on  a  completely  new  direction   and  kabuki  was  born.     Bibliography     Barth,  Johannes.  1972.  Japans  Schaukunst  im  Wandel  der  zeiten.  Wiesbaden:  Franz  Steiner  Verlag.   Dunn,  Charles  J.  and  Torigoe  Bunzō.  1969.  The  Actors’  Analects  (Yakusha  Rongo).  Tokyo:  University  of   Tokyo 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