"Reading Between the Lines of Rakugo: The Nature of the Japanese Language"

2021/02/08

In the late 1940s and early 50s, entertainment was limited to little more than rakugo on the radio. Families would gather around a single radio to listen to the rakugo of Shinsho or Bunraku. Even the occasional power outages are now a fond memory.

The characters in rakugo are not all good people. Thieves appear, but there are no violent robbers. Many are fools who enter an empty house by mistake or are seen through from the start when trying to extort someone, ending up handing over everything they have and begging for forgiveness.

Rakugo can be said to form a single virtual city. That is why some people call them "residents of the Rakugo Kingdom." A city cannot consist only of beautiful, well-kept places. If theaters or show tents are built in entertainment districts, there is a boss who runs them. The same goes for temple and shrine festivals. Where there are red-light districts, there are also underground gambling dens.

Since the historical background of many stories is the late Edo period, the level of education was not yet high. Some people were illiterate. These misunderstandings create laughter. However, even if someone is a bit slow-witted or has a physical disability, they are never bullied or looked down upon.

Since rakugo is a storytelling art passed down through tradition, there is no definitive original text. It preserves vanished occupations, annual events, and customs. Because it uses the language of the common people, one hears insults that are not very refined and expressions that are practically dead words. The jargon and slang used among peers, which are fun to know, also live on.

I became interested in the "Japanese of the underworld" born from popular entertainment, which is rarely found in dictionaries, and I have collected and reflected on it. For example, young people today wouldn't understand terms like "hettsui" (cooking stove) or "yabuiri" (servants' holiday). Words like "tatesugosu" or "tatehiki ga tsuyoi," or the "Gama no Abura" (Toad Oil) pitch, are usually just glossed over. For stories where the crucial "sage" (punchline) is hard to understand, it is explained beforehand in the "makura" (prologue), but if the secret is revealed in too much detail, the audience's interest cools. This is where the rakugo performer struggles.

Wine is meant to be enjoyed by drinking, not for showing off one's knowledge. The same is true for rakugo. However, much like cholesterol, there is "good" and "bad" knowledge. The knowledge described in this book (though I don't think of it that way myself) is, of course, the good kind. It is extremely regrettable that the capacity to enjoy "trivial things" like rakugo is being lost due to the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic.

"Reading Between the Lines of Rakugo: The Nature of the Japanese Language"

Atsuyuki Shigekane

Sayusha

256 pages, 1,800 yen (excluding tax)

*Affiliations and job titles are as of the time of publication.