Cicadas

2022/07/20

Mitsuhiko Takada

President of Omi Keio Club, Professor at Ryukoku University, 1979 Faculty of Letters

Summer mornings at shrines begin with the sound of cicadas. "Semimaru"—this gentleman with a peculiar name—was a Heian-period poet and a renowned master of the biwa. He is said to have been either a prince of Emperor Daigo or a zoshiki (low-ranking official) under Prince Atsumi, the son of Emperor Uda. The Semimaru Shrine, which enshrines Semimaru as the ancestral deity of the performing arts, is located near the Osaka no Seki barrier along the Old Tokaido Road connecting Otsu and the capital of Kyoto. During the Edo period, it oversaw preachers (itinerant performers) from various provinces and issued licenses to perform across the country, making it a bustling hub for many involved in the performing arts.

In recent years, the buildings of Semimaru Shrine have suffered severe damage. In 2015, the "Seki-Semimaru Performing Arts Festival" was launched with hopes for reconstruction. This year marks the 1,200th anniversary of the shrine's founding, and last year, volunteers launched a crowdfunding campaign to raise 30 million yen for repair costs. It is an initiative where local people have united to restore the shrine, sparked by the singular art form mastered by the man known as Semimaru. However, only about 7 million yen has been raised so far. It is a very difficult situation.

Semimaru-san might be shouting from inside the shrine: "Can't we do something about the remaining 23 million yen?!"

Yoshiyuki Kobayashi

Executive Officer and CSO of Curio Inc., 1986 Faculty of Science and Technology, 1988 Master's in Science and Technology

The season has arrived where the buzzing of cicadas reaches even someone like me, who is not fond of insects. During the walks I started during the COVID-19 pandemic, there are days when I am startled to find their discarded shells.

Cicadas spend anywhere from three to nearly twenty years underground. Their shells are proof that they have successfully emerged, and in the world of feng shui, they are apparently treated as lucky items. Let's take a look at these cicada shells, which also appeared in a recent historical drama.

In the world of Kampo medicine, cicada shells are called "Sentai" and have been used since ancient times as a crude drug with effects such as relieving itching, reducing fever, and strengthening the immune system. Examining their components reveals that, like the shells of crustaceans such as crabs and shrimp, they are made of a substance called chitin, which consists of many linked glucosamine molecules. This is the same glucosamine familiar from TV commercials. In fact, this glucosamine and chitin are the primary raw materials for the anti-influenza drugs currently used in the market. A treatment for influenza—the epitome of winter—can be made from cicada shells, a symbol of summer. It is a truly mysterious relationship.

Takashi Torii

Teacher at Keio Senior High School, Member of the Keio University Research and Education Center for Natural Sciences

In summer, Hiyoshi is filled with a chorus of cicadas. The main performers are the Large Brown Cicada and the Robust Cicada; depending on the season, the Kaempfer Cicada takes the lead, and in the evening, the Evening Cicada becomes the protagonist. It was four years ago that I collected the Platypleura kaempferi, which is in decline. As the advisor of the Biology Research Club, I often collected cicadas and other insects with students in Mamushi-dani.

For many readers, memories of cicadas likely involve their buzzing and catching them as children, but for me, it is different. This is because I hold a doctorate in insect systematic taxonomy. While cicadas are not my specialty, in the comparative morphology of insects as a whole, I have explored the various body parts of various insects, including cicadas, in detail. I will write about their wings. Insect wings have many lines. These are called wing veins, and in principle, every single one has a name. Countless patterns exist in the branching, merging, and length ratios of each vein, serving as keys to identifying species or exploring relationships. When I teach this to students who chose wing veins for their graduation research while having them observe the wings of an Evening Cicada, they are all amazed.

Forty years have passed since I began focusing on insects, and before I knew it, I will reach retirement age next spring. However, my research into insect taxonomy will likely continue for a lifetime. I think this as I listen to the grand chorus of cicadas.

Yoshitaka Kamimura

Associate Professor at the Keio University Faculty of Business and Commerce

"Zee-wa, zee-wa, zee-wa, zee-wa."

In the sloped green spaces of Tokyo Metropolitan University (Hachioji) where I spent my student days, the grand chorus of the Small Meimuna cicadas would suddenly begin at summer twilight. The males of this species have a habit of singing in synchronization, creating a strange illusion as if the entire oak forest is pulsating and singing.

When I was a graduation research student, I would collect various insects in this forest day and night and bring them to the laboratory. This was because the assistant professor at the time, who was my practical supervisor, was looking at the sperm of every possible insect under a microscope.

Interestingly, the sperm of the cicada family is not passed to the female individually, but in a state like a "noren curtain" (rope curtain), neatly arranged on a long rope of protein. Since the rope is digested by the female, it may serve as nutrition, but nothing more is known beyond that.

I learned the joy and importance of observing a wide variety of living things, as well as the difficulty of solving mysteries. About a quarter-century has passed since then, and that professor is nearing retirement, but I wonder if the chorus of the Small Meimuna cicadas can still be heard this year.