Yoshino Jingû

Yoshino Jingû is a fairly new shrine dating back to 1899 when it was constructed per oders of Emperor Meiji to commemorate Emperor Go-Daigo, an emperor of the 14th century. Emperor Go-Daigo was known for overthrowing the Kamakura Bakufu, the first warrior government of Japan, and restoring political power and authority to the Imperial Family for two years under the Kenmu Restoration. Unfortunately Emperor Go-Daigo’s allied warrior clan, the Ashikaga, saw a chance at power and took it, backing a different courtier to be emperor. Go-Daigo fled to the south, established a rival court at Yoshino (which didn’t last long), and passed away soon after. His tombulus is just up the road.

For the casual: 1. For the educated: 7.

This shrine is purely a nerd spot. It’s not a pretty shrine, there are far better shrines and temples in the area, and it’s so new that the only people I can imagine being interested in visiting this shrine are those who understand some of the aspects of the emperor himself and his failed attempt to restore imperial power.

If casual visitors do make their way here, please try to visit in late March/early April when the cherry blossoms are in bloom. Yoshino is famous for the sheer quantity of cherry trees that cover the mountain side.

Outermost gate to the shrine.

 

Kamigamo Jinja

Kamigamo Jinja is the upper of two shrines dedicated not only the the Kamo-gawa, the Kamo River, but also to the founding of Kyoto itself. The deity enshrined is the three-legged raven, or Yatagarasu in Japanese, and is the primary ancient emblem of the Imperial Family. The Yatagarasu is a very important figure in the culture of Japan as well as a defining character in the history of the Imperial Family. It is said that when the capital of Japan was being moved from Nara, the emperor followed a three-legged raven north to where the city of Heian-kyô (Kyoto) would be founded. After leading the emperor, the raven retired to its home now enshrined as Kamigamo Jinja.

For the casual: 8. For the educated: 10.

I can’t believe that it took me five years to see Shimogamo Jinja, the lower shrine, and then move north to the upper shrine. This is one of those places that you see on the map being so far north that you think to yourself, “Hey, I think that is going to be so much trouble getting to that I don’t think it’s worth it.” But that’s just the thing, it’s not hard to get to at all. Whether by taxi, bus, or subway with a little walk, the shrine is actually very easy to get to and I would say quite beautiful too. The trees that line the banks of the Kamo-gawa are mostly cherry trees and so in spring you get the blossoms and in fall the leaves turn red. Granted they don’t have the same colorful attraction that a maple or a ginko tree might impress, but it’s still a lovely change in color.

The shrine stands out from its surroundings because of the vibrant vermillian of its paint. Large torii gates and fences designate the boundaries of the shrine. A long gravel path then leads visitors straight through a lawn to the inner shrine. It is believed that the sport of horse-riding, and the festivals associated with it, began its practice at this shrine, as a result the shrine has a horse-riding festival in late spring. I’m not sure how regular this is, but when I was there, there was a good luck horse in a small stable just outside of the main shrine that you could pay to feed.

The shrine consists of three main sections, the Hoso-dono, the Hashi-dono, and finally the Hon-den. The Hoso-dono is the first building that visitors see after passing through the inner torii. It is known for the two cones of sand which stand in front. These cones of sand are said to have cleansing properties and are kept intact year-round. The Hashi-dono, currently undergoing rennovations, is less a prayer building and more of a formal reception house. The Hashi-dono, as its name suggests, is a building which straddles one of the streams which bisects the shrine grounds. It is also here that a missive from the emperor is put on display when he sends his good wishes for the Aoi Matsuri every year. The Hon-den, the main shrine, is the final building with two gates, the Ro-mon and the Chu-mon. The Chu-mon is only opened at New Years so most people are only familiar with the Ro-mon. Inside are enshrined the spirits of not only the Yatagarasu, but also the local deities of the area which have been worshipped since prehistoric times.

I visited in November during Shichi-Go-San, a one month period when families pray for the health of their children. Therefore, many of the people are dressed in suits and dresses with the children wearig special kimono. Center right is a young boy in one such kimono with his father learning to bow at the torii.

Lucky horse!

The Hoso-dono and the sacred cones of sand.

 

Atsuta Jingû

Atsuta Jingû is one of the holiest shrines in Japan and considered as such because it is a shrine to the sun goddess Amaterasu-Omikoto, the matriarch of the Imperial Family. Technically, enshrined is Atsuta-no-Omikoto, which is Amaterasu’s spirit in the form of one of the three Imperial Regalia: The Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi. The Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi (Grass-Cutting Sword), or Ame-no-Murakumo-no-Tsurugi (Heavenly Sword of Gathering Clouds), is one of the most important cultural items in Japan, confering unto the emperor the power to rule. I mentioned in a previous post that Naiku in Ise is the holiest shrine in Japan and holds in its poscession, though unconfirmed, the bronze mirror which holds the image of Amaterasu-Omikoto. Atsuta Jingû can be thought of as simply another shrine to house an equally important item.

For the casual: 6. For the educated: 10.

Like Naikû and Gekû, visual access to the shrine is largely restricted with tall walls hiding most of what is visible. Visitors do have access to a path which follows the wall to the back side of the shrine which gives an idea of just how large the inner sanctum is, but again, the most people are likely to see are the gold leaf caps on the finials jutting from the shrine roof. Having said that, Atsuta Jingû is a beautiful shrine in the heart of Nagoya and retains a great deal of forest surrounding it. The grounds are like many major shrines in Japan with large gravel paths and beautiful trees. If the weather is good, there is a wonderful play of light between the green of the vegetation, the gold of sunlight on the wood buildings, and the white gray of the gravel. It’s a really nice combination which I find very relaxing. Depending on the time of the year, various events take place at the shrine from unique matsuri to larger-scale holiday events. During Golden Week in May, the shrine is filled with people praying for luck for their children. Strangely enough, when I was there, there were chickens roaming around the shrine.

A little chat about the sword. Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi is not the kind of sword that one would think of when thinking about a “Japanese” sword. Because only the emperor and those of the highest ranks in the caretaking of the artifcats are able to see the items itself, there is no conclusive image or description of what the sword really looks like. However, based on traditional imagery and other ceremonial swords from ancient Japan, the educated guess is that it’s a bronze sword with a straight blade which actually resembles a gladius of sorts, though there is no actual correlation between the two. Where the story gets really juicy is the fact that it’s likely the sword no longer exists. During the Genpei War, a civil war in the late 12th century between the Taira and Minamoto samurai clans, the young Emperor Antoku, only about the age of 9, fled Kyoto with the Taira clan to Kyushu. Because Antoku’s grandfather was actually Taira no Kiyomori, the leader of the Taira clan, it was feared that the Minamoto clan would come after the young emperor and surplant him with an emperor favorable to their cause. To deny this new emperor the authority of succession, they took with them peices of the Imperial Regalia, in this case, Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi. According to Heike Monogatari (The Tale of the Heike), an account of the Genpei War, Emperor Antoku and his mother were aboard a Taira ship escaping to Kyushu when the forces of the Taira and Minamoto engaged in a naval combat. Rather than be captured, Antoku’s mother cast herself and her son into the sea and drowned, and with them, the sword. The emperor who actually succeeded Antoku was Emperor Go-Toba, an emperor with a passion for swordcrafting. When he crafted swords, he crafted his own imprint as a signature in the shape of a chrysanthemum, the emblem that would become the crest for the Imperial Family. Because of this, I have a theory that the current Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi was crafted, or at least overseen, by Go-Toba to replace the real one.

 

Taga Taisha

Taga Taisha is considered by many to be the premier shrine in Shiga Prefecture. Though the actual year of its founding is uncertain, it was likely founded some time around the 8th century because it was mentioned in the Kojiki, the oldest Japanese document recording the nation’s mythic origins and the geneology of Japan’s first emperors. Enshrined at Taga are the spirits of the two gods who created the world from foam: Izanagi-no-kami and Izanami-no-kami. As I have mentioned in other posts like Tsukiyomi-gû, shrines containing the spirit of Izanami-no-kami are very rare. After giving birth to a multitude of gods, she died in childbirth and became the ruler of the underworld. Upon seeing her hideous form, Izanagi did the very rude thing of running away and trapping her in the underworld. Understandably furious, she promised to curse their mortal creations with a limited lifespan and thus she is not a widely worshipped figure in Shinto.

For the casual: 8. For the educated: 9.

I’ll start with the bad news I guess: Taga Taisha is not an easy shrine to get to. Let me clarify: it’s not within a major city and requires prior planning to really go visit. That being said, I highly recommend that everyone consider visiting this shrine as I will get into in a little, but first I would like to take a rare oportunity to describe some methods of transportation to get to the shrine from Kyoto. While I’m sure there are buses or tours that make trips to Hikone for the castle and Taga Taisha, I’m going to make the assumption that you the reader are not going to be doing that. Instead, there are trains and cars, and between the two I’m again going to assume the former. Train-wise, there are two trains in particular you can use. The first is the Special Rapid service on the Kyoto line bound for Maibara. Hikone is the station before Maibara and is the best station to go to for the shrine. The Special Rapid is a commuter train that takes between and hour and 90 minutes to get from Kyoto to Hikone. If you would like the potential to speed that up at a higher cost, you can take the shinkansen from Kyoto to Maibara. Maibara is the largest station in the eastern Shiga area, but it’s not a major shinkansen station so visitors will likely have to wait for the Kodama line shinkansen which stops at every station. Still, it’s faster than the commuter train, though it may take time to wait for the Kodama line Shinkansen. From Maibara, a one stop ride south will get you to Hikone Station and from there you can change trains to a local one which goes to the shrine, but it doesn’t run very often. If you don’t want to worry about the local train, there are also buses that make their way over to the shrine. If you’re on a schedule, I recommend just taking a taxi because it’s fast and I had good luck speaking to the drivers.

Honestly, I really recommend going to Taga Taisha. For one, the atmosphere was everything that one could want from a shrine. Sure it’s a major shrine, but it was so secluded and the little stores across the street were clearly there for generations. It was almost like something out of a dream. The people were super nice and welcoming and the shrine is a beautiful piece of natural art. Stone walkways, tall cedar trees, and the rich brown color of the building makes for a super relaxing environment. Glittering gold accents on the supports starkly contrasts the earthen tones of the buildings, but it’s not overburdening. All in all, the light and colors really made me feel warm and relaxed. Because I was sadly pressed for time, I didn’t get the chance to really soak in everything at the shrine. Near the entrance and across from the talisman window is a small open-air cafe that looked like a really nice place to sit, relax, and enjoy the atmosphere. Like many shrines, Taga Taisha has a stage for Noh performances and maiko dances, so be sure to take a look for any special events before visiting. Who knows, you might get lucky!