The Fox And The Jewel (Karen A.Smyers, 1999)

I went for anthropology of folk religion, everybody's favorite topic as commonly known. Wait, isn't it? Then, why does everybody have to visit Fushimi Inari Taisha [伏見稲荷大社]  as soon as their feet touch Japanese soil I don't know, and I can only guess it's pretty. For those who can scrap a little deeper than tourism guides and expect more from a culture than mere exoticism, the very objectifying enjoyment that grants the perpetual permanence of the very ignorance which in turn spawns it, thoroughly academic research is mandatory. And that's exactly what Karen A.Symers provided by conducting a prolonged study on the polymorphic and mysterious Inari Ōkami [稲荷大神] and then writing it down on the present volume, a classic in the field. Ranging from etymology to symbolic semantics and comprising field interviews with priests, scholars, shamans and lay devotees, it closely tracks the historic genealogy, the present practices and the blurry religious canon associated with the so-called Fox Deity and its worship. Said phenomenon, as many others in Japanese folk religion, absolutely defies conventional definitions of what constitutes a ''religion'' according to western standards, of course. An ever-recurring set of symbols surrender Inari, who may be perceived as male, female, androgynous (the tail, key and jewel entailing sexual associations), charming, terrifying, Buddhist, Shintō, and diversely associated through History with rice harvesting, fishing, birth, prosperity but also madness, possession, kidnapping and death associated with fire. This elusive figure is also a shape-shifter who can grant wishes under certain circumstances. Thus, an endless cluster of meanings loosely connected configures a non-centralized non-codified widespread cult, which does not imply any concrete political, ethnic or national associations. Quoting Karen:

It is the silence of these symbols that has kept Inari continually popular and free of sectarian strife over the centuries in Japan. Because there is no central myth, dogma, or scripture that accompanies the symbols, there is no fixed orthodoxy governing them. Their significance is not tied to a set of verbal meanings that becomes reified as the 'Truth' about Inari

Religion adherence in contemporary Japan has often been defined as ''aesthetic'', yet it would entail the philosophical connotation of the term (even if Inari is indeed rich in merchandise in contemporary Japan). The boundaries are thin and mostly conventional as not adherence nor express belief were really stressed not even in traditional Japanese religion, which in turn stressed adherence to the communal structure of social practices and sanctioned behavior. Thus, Buddhism, Taoism, Confucianism and folk Shintō operated in different spheres of the individual life with frequent and non-problematic overlaps among them, and stressing one tradition over another, even if pregnant with significance in concrete historical periods or social classes, was largely an individual choice.

The Fox And The Jewel comprises seven chapters, which could be taken as three parts, the first one (Chapters I and II) dealing with Inari as a deity, its characteristics, historic records and overall historical genealogy. The second one (Chapters III and IV) deals with symbolism and religious iconography, stressing, as the title indicates, both the Fox and the Jewel. The third one (Chapters V, VI, VII) is concerned with the dynamic tension between infinitely diverse worshipers and the ''official'' practices and belief systems stressed at the biggest Inari shrines in Japan: Fushimi Inari Taisha [伏見稲荷大社] and Toyokawa Inari [豊川稲荷], which constituted Karen's main sources of information during scholar internship in Japan. As study cases they revealed to be excellent. Fushimi Inari is a highly bureaucratized Shintō shrine [神社] with inflexible schedules and a distant, highly impersonal relationship with visitants. The temple personal focus on maintain a flawless appearance, performing approved rituals historically reconstructed and barely associating itself with kō [講] or local groups of worshipers. It is almost conducted like a business on rush hour. On the other hand, Toyokawa Inari is actually a Zen Buddhist temple [お寺] of the Sōtō branch, and its real name is Myōgonji. Also, its real dedication is to its eternally famous founder Dōgen and the Buddhist Dakiniten. Dakiniten is in fact a key element in giving Inari, already a Japanese phenomenon by 700 AC, a Buddhist background; it would help if not by the fact that Dakiniten (as most of the Mahayana elaborations on Buddhism) has himself a long and confusing background, from the bloodthirsty Indian origins of female Dakinis to enlightened ally of the Buddha over Myanmar and Laos, to Boddhisatva-esque avatar of the Tibetan Vajrayanas, then mysteriously arrived to Japan on the back of a white fox. Apparently Japanese Buddhist travelers chose the best among the local fauna in an attempt to give him an animal-seat as magnificent as those of the Indian and Tibetan sutras and sagas.

Toyokawa constituted a polar opposite of the Fushimi shrine: zen monks were easy-going, flexible and kept alive a warm relationship with local kō, even those led by shamans. Even if not really excited about the Inari worship storming their Buddhist temple, including people erecting their own miniature shrines with statues of foxes and permanently dressing them with the characteristic red bibs, they easily accepted and celebrated it, while really devoting themselves to zazen sessions. Karen spends a hefty amount of the book to examine the many differences in both environments, and interviewing both priests, monks and scholars.

And yet, as the study progresses, one gets to know the fact that Inari, who enjoyed a huge popularity widespread through all Japan during the Heian period (to the point of being sponsored by the Imperial authority), is of almost unknown origin. Even though the Fox symbolism in Japan is as strong as that of the Sun and its Goddess, it constitutes a strange underground reversal of it. Apparently it could have been introduced in the islands by the Hata [秦氏] clan, originally Korean, which took seat around what today is known as Inari Mountain, where Fushimi is located. From that point on, and strongly differing from most popular Shintō deities (as Amaterasu herself), you'll find scattered historical references to ''Cults of the Fox'' but no official references in ancient mythological works such as the Kojiki [古事記] or the Nihonshoki [日本書紀]. Only later interpretations decided to marry its figure to that of Uke-Mochi-No-Kami [保食神], kami of harvesting and the agricultural circle, who got her head chopped off by the lunar kami Tsukuyomi [月読の命]; this was probably an attempt to integrate Inari's perplexing popularity and huge following into the sacred canon of Imperial ''educated'' Shintō, as opposed to that of the folk. Yet, such an attempt had to be unfruitful.

The fact is that Inari's attributes most probably spawned from the beliefs concerning different tricksters, even those who don't have a Fox appearance, as kitsune [狐] do. Varying accounts associate Inari's powers with that of will-o'-the-wisps, fertility deities and overall liminal spirits, able to inhabit both in the physical world and that of the unknown. Yet, Inari strongly differs with gnomic spirits or intermediary dwellers as it does not perform as psychopomp or serves human beings at all, even if particular circumstances can result beneficial to both. It always retains its numinous nature. The Japanese folklore concerning shape-shifters is enormous (Karen does a great work at conveying as much as possible to the point of dryness) and its relationship with Inari as a kami seems at times close, at times distant. Folk people have traditionally assumed not only a relationship but a direct identification with lore foxes and ever real ones:

Miyata notes that in the countryside, at smaller, less institutionalized Inari shrines, Inari's true form is often thought to be that of a fox, and its in these areas that the barks and habits of foxes are observed carefully for their oracular meanings (...) The other side of this feeling of familiarity, however, is terror at his retribution. For although Inari is approachable, he is not to be taken lightly. Inari's retribution [tatari] is renowned for its power

Of course, rural Japan has been on the run for quite some time, and fox's numbers have declined, first because of the dogs, imported from continental China, and then by the destruction of their habitat by Japan's endlessly sprawling cities. But many reports about foxes compiled by Karen seems to show that wild foxes (the most feline of the canines) were easily approachable by people, and allowed to be even touched if familiar enough. Another starking difference in contemporary Japan is the sanitization and purge of ''indecencies'', started by a governmental issue in 1868 and affecting religious iconography as well. For, as Karen quotes from an author of the 1920s:

At many of the small Inari shrines scattered throughout the country, phallic emblems as objects of worship or as votive offerings may still be seen. The police have, in recent years, removed a great many of the most gross and obvious of the phallic symbols, nevertheless enough remain to convince the investigator of the strong hold that this cult had on the people

As disturbing for modern-eurocentric Meiji Japan was Inari's association with madness and possession, which Karen marries with Bakhtin's theory about the carnival as a temporary hold on society's strict rules which allows the individual to freely express otherwise prohibited behavior for a short time, in order for him to be psychologically possible to return to everyday repressive society. In fact, Inari's paraphernalia ostentates a bright red which was traditionally worn by both small children and old people who had completed their obligations to society: both groups were permitted to act willfully and selfishly. If aka [赤] means red, complete strangers were called ''aka no tanin'' [赤の他人] (red other person) and babies are to this day ''akachan'' [赤ちゃん]. Of course, both of them were free of social customs. Endless word punning is inherent to Japanese, and it constitutes an even more important aspect of the religious context, creating endless concatenations of associated meaning in Shintō prayers or norito [祝詞]. Karen gives us an interesting description of fox possession:

Behavior that was traditionally diagnosed as ''fox possession'' included unusual eating habits, inappropriate use of language, inability to follow social norms, and, most interesting, newfound abilities in literacy (...) Other fox-possesed behavior included using abusive language, wanting to be always outside, dispensing money and goods like a millionaire, crawling on all fours, staying naked, barking like a fox, destructive violence and spitting (...) Thus fox possession was not simply a transgression of social norms through obnoxious behavior: sometimes it empowered people to step out of their structural limitations

Of course, fox possession was not only a religious understanding of what we today often call mental illness, substance abuse or the revenge of the rural community against too individualized personality (as it happened to early feminists as Raichō Hiratsuka) but also a social mechanism able to reintegrate such members into regular society once the possession resulted suspended. It rarely involved ordeal, but rather retreat, asceticism and care by the family combined with shamanic intervention until the psychological wound was cured if such a thing was to ever happen. Of course, such a mechanism disappeared in early modern Japan, where fox possession was looked upon with disdain and even some fear, not considered an excuse anymore. And yet, Inari worship totally retains this aspect of the individual psyche, as it perpetually transforms itself according to the taste, imagination and customs of the follower.

Orphaned of a strong and canonical support behind its worshiping, the untamed shapeshifter remains one of the most notorious deities of Japanese lore, accommodating itself in the contemporary world way better than many a deity. Changing fields of specialization, from rice harvesting to fishing in ancient times, helping both pregnant women and ferocious Tokugawa warriors during medieval periods and now revered by both Toyota CEOs (who have their own corporate Inari shrine) and young fashion icons, or contracultural movements. Never letting itself be trapped in intellectual classification or dead representation, Inari might actually own its success to its being ever-changing and opened to personalization, while preserving a quite distinctive and in fact alluring iconography. It would not be an exaggeration considering it the personification of change and role exchange itself, if not by the fact that it retains this positive charge of dynamic tensions, social-individual, male-female, terrifying-familiar, vengeful-propitious. It's noteworthy how most of Inari religiosity, if not all, is only concerned with worldly affairs, never projecting itself into an afterdead transcendence, something fully Shintō in nature. As long as the mysterious and the playful remains embedded in the Inari paradigm, it is reasonable to argue it will outlive most dogmatic-defined orientations. It constitutes a rare example of a strong folk religious tradition never taken away from the people, who easily know as much about Inari as any working priest.