Japan’s Giant Skeleton Art Is Based On A Fascinating Story
The great thing about Takiyasha the Witch and the Skeleton Spectre (1844) by Utagawa Kuniyoshi is the fact that you can grab any random person, smoosh their face into the priceless woodblock print, and go: “Hey, see this gap-toothed skeleton that looks like something from a Deliverance/Army of Darkness crossover? Don’t focus on its giant size, because that’s literally the least interesting thing about it.” And the best part is that museum security won’t be able to intervene because all you’d be doing is spitting a bucket-full of hot, juicy truth.
The story of the Halloween triptych involves the woman on the left, Princess Takiyasha, daughter of the eastern warlord Taira no Masakado, who rebelled against the Kyoto emperor in the 10th century, and tried to establish a royal court in his domain. Taira failed, was beheaded, and eastern Japan never became a politically-significant region of the country. Takiyasha didn’t take kindly to the government acting like the worst barber ever and taking everything off her dad’s top, so she decided to do toad about it. That’s not slang for drug use, though the rest of the story does sound like the result of one. Seeking vengeance, Takiyasha studied black magic under the giant toad sorcerer Nikushisen. She was apparently an apt student, because later, when two government agents came to her father’s dilapidated mansion looking for his supporters, she was able to summon Clive Barker’s Voltron to kill them.
The giant skeleton in the woodblock print is actually a type of yokai spirit known as a gashadokuro. Legend says that they are born from bodies that haven’t been given proper funeral rites, causing them to grow angry and resentful over not being able to get their friends and relatives out of work for a day. When hundreds of these spirits get together, they merge to create the gargantuan gashadokuro that usually hangs around rural roads, picking up travelers, popping their heads off like bottle caps, and chugging their red life-juice like Bloodweiser.
In any case, the samurai in Takiyasha the Witch and the Skeleton Spectre defeat the gashadokuro, though how they managed to do it without gas-powered grapple hooks and utility swords is anyone’s guess. The woodblock print is not only one of the most badass examples of Japanese art, but also a handy lesson about the ukiyo-e movement that developed in the Edo Period (1603 – 1868). The colorful genre was primarily fueled and inspired by the country’s emerging city culture and townspeople who occasionally wanted action, and a bit of scares in their art. Also, porn. Lots and lots of weird-ass porn, including Utagawa Kuniyoshi himself, whose other works include a depiction of gashadokuro made entirely from bone-penises. There is a “boner” joke in here but it’s such low-hanging fruit, I’d need a shovel to reach it.
Follow Cezary on Twitter.
