Shouting Catfish and Subjugated Thunder God: A Popular Deity’s Criticism of the Governmental Authority in the Wake of the Ansei Edo Earthquake in Catfish Prints

Abstract

Soon after the devastating Ansei Edo earthquake in 1855, popular prints known as catfish prints (namazu-e) circulated widely. These prints were rooted in the folk belief that a giant catfish beneath the earth caused earthquakes. Various types of catfish prints were published: some depicted a punished earthquake catfish and served as protective charms against future quakes, while others functioned as sharp social commentary. In the latter type, the catfish was portrayed as a popular deity capable of bringing favorable societal change for people in the lower social class, symbolizing hope for commoners through reduced economic disparities after the disaster. The print “Prodigal Buddha” positioned the catfish as an antihero, criticizing the Tokugawa government’s inefficacy and the failure of religious institutions to provide spiritual salvation. By juxtaposing the catfish—now a newly popular deity—with a thunder god, formerly a fearsome deity but now submissively obeying the catfish, the print effectively visualizes the shift in status between the two. This article examines the criticism directed at political and religious authorities in the aftermath of the disaster, analyzing the layered symbolism of the thunder gods in the print.

1. Introduction

Natural disasters have the potential to profoundly impact and reshape religious beliefs. In Japan, faith in popular deities has historically fluctuated based on the perceived efficacy of their miraculous powers. Deities gained or lost prominence depending on their ability to fulfill the expectations of their worshippers. This reconfiguration of divine authority became particularly evident following the Ansei Edo earthquake1, which altered the power dynamics between the thunder gods, the traditional Shinto deities, and a newly emergent popular deity—the earthquake catfish.

The devastating Ansei Edo earthquake hit the city of Edo, now known as Tokyo, at around 10:00 p.m. on 2 October 18552. It was estimated to have had a magnitude of 6.9 or 7.0, and it has been reported that more than 4200 people were killed and over 2700 injured in the quake and its ensuing large-scale fires. Approximately 16,000 buildings in Edo were destroyed (Miura 2019, p. 91). Higher numbers of human victims and damaged properties were reported on the relatively soft ground of in the low-lying areas of the city, populated mainly by commoners and people of lower social status. “A report on the Ansei Earthquake” (Ansei Kenmonshi; 安政見聞誌), published around 1855 and illustrated by Utagawa Kuniyoshi3, describes how the fire spread in the city of Edo just after the earthquake occurred, burning out a large part of the city and forcing many displaced people to sleep outside in the cold or in improvised shelters (Ansei Kenmonshi 1855).

In the midst of this tumult, a form of popular art known as catfish prints (namazu-e; 鯰絵) circulated widely. These were large-format (ōban; 大判), multicolor prints with a variety of depictions of catfish and descriptive captions. The catfish prints were based on folk beliefs that a catfish who possessed the power to cause earthquakes lived under the ground and that the deity of the Kashima shrine (Kashima no kami; 鹿島神) in Hitachi (currently Ibaraki prefecture), northeast of Edo, could suppress the catfish by pinning it under a keystone (kaname-ishi; 要石)4. The keystone is a natural stone located within the precincts of the Kashima shrine (Tō 1968, pp. 40–41). However, when the deity would leave for Izumo (currently in Tottori prefecture) for the annual assembly of deities, the catfish was able to slither out from beneath the keystone and cause massive earthquakes around Edo and the surrounding Kanto area (Smits 2009, p. 12). The deity of the Kashima shrine was also known as a thunder god named Takemikazuchi no kami. He was also reputed to be a powerful guardian of the nation of Japan, wielding a special sword with magical power to protect the nation called Futsuno Mitamano Tsurugi. He was also a deity for warriors because of his association with the sword.

Following the Ansei Edo Earthquake, these prints experienced a dramatic rise in popularity and were widely circulated as part of a broader corpus of popular prints depicting contemporary social issues. This belief is thought to have predated the Edo period, as references to it can be found in the Konjaku Monogatari (Tales of Times Now Past), a collection of narratives compiled around the 12th century. Despite the existence of this belief, visual representations explicitly connecting catfish to earthquakes did not emerge in popular prints until around the time of the Great Kyoto Earthquake of 1830 (Kitahara 2013, pp. 199–202). Ryūtei Senka (1804–1868), a popular writer, noted in his diary “Days after an Earthquake” (Nai no Hinami; なゐの日並) that over three hundred and eighty varieties of prints featuring the Ansei Edo earthquake were published in the two days just after the earthquake (Ryūtei 1929, pp. 756–57).

Catfish prints were also published after previous earthquakes since they were believed to have the power to protect people from earthquakes. However, the number and diversity of catfish prints sold at the time of the disaster were unprecedented (Ono 1967, p. 178). The catfish prints depicting the Ansei Edo earthquake served not only as charms against earthquakes but also as a form of reportage, documenting social phenomena and directing criticism against government officials. The ruling Tokugawa shogunate attempted to prevent the circulation of catfish prints; however, publishers continued to produce them, as they did not want to miss this lucrative business opportunity. That is why most catfish prints produced after the earthquake were crafted by anonymous artists, who, at that time, were required to obtain official governmental sanctions to avoid punishment (Ansei Kenmonshi 1855). Before the government completely banned publishing two months after the earthquake, these catfish prints served as a poignant mirror of the state of post-earthquake society, vividly reflecting public perceptions of the social situation in the aftermath of the disaster.

Some catfish prints depicted the earthquake catfish as evil and deserving of punishment, while others portrayed it as a sort of lucky deity that brought prosperity to commoners. This reputation grew because the post-quake period saw a reduction in economic disparities. To help the less fortunate victims of the calamity, the government enacted measures that compelled the nation’s wealthy to donate money, and business for construction workers boomed as the city began to rebuild. With such unexpected favorable developments for commoners, the earthquake catfish began to be celebrated as a popular deity for his contributions to reshaping the social order and the flow of money within society (Kitahara 2013, pp. 207–12).

One catfish print entitled “Prodigal Buddha Social Reform Satirical Chant” (Doraga nyorai yonaoshi chobokure; どらが如来世直しちょぼくれ; hereafter, “Prodigal Buddha”) portrays the catfish disguised as a type of religious street performer known as gannin bōzu (願人坊主), which literally means “petitioning monks” (Figure 1). He looks like an angry punk rock star: he wears a worn-out black robe and a pair of geta sandals on his bare, human-like feet, loudly shouting a satirical song that depicts social phenomena just after the disaster. In his right hand, he is holding a yotsudake, a traditional Japanese percussion instrument, similar to a castanet, made of bamboo and often used in dancing and musical performances (Watanabe n.d.).

Gannin bōzu originally referred to monks from Kurama temple in Kyoto who had traveled to Edo as litigants in the late sixteenth century. Once they had lost their lawsuit, they had no money and began to beg. As part of their begging, they developed a performance repertoire patterned on Buddhist rituals connected to Shinto deities. In the seventeenth century, gannin bōzu engaged in pseudo-Buddhist activities such as selling talismans and proxy pilgrimages to temples and shrines. They also conducted Buddhist rituals, including reading and explaining sutras and exhibiting the figure of Buddha on the anniversary of his birthday (Groemer 1999, pp. 277–79). In the nineteenth century, the performances of gannin bōzu became much more secular and entertainment-oriented, departing from their earlier focus on the preaching of Buddhist precepts.

The catfish gannin bōzu performs a chobokure, a chant much like modern rap, which was a popular form of performance unique to gannin bōzu. The text that fills much of the frame in “Prodigal Buddha” is the content of his chobokure. Speaking on behalf of earthquake victims in Edo, he criticizes religious institutions and governmental authorities. The catfish decries the attitudes displayed by Buddhist temples toward disaster victims as merciless. He also criticizes the failure of Kashima, which is believed to be responsible for protecting the nation from earthquakes. In addition to denouncing the actions and attitudes of official institutions, the catfish celebrates the favorable changes that have come to Edo’s commoners and concludes his speech with an optimistic outlook on society’s post-disaster future.

The aftermath of the Ansei Edo earthquake demonstrated that religious institutions had failed to save people in difficult circumstances and protect them in times of disaster. Meanwhile, the catfish, the embodiment of the earthquake, emerged as a popular deity because he was believed to have effected changes beneficial to the lower classes. Thus, his position as a deity came to be elevated over that of the Kashima deity, who had failed in his duties. The print depicts a thunder god behind the catfish assisting the catfish gannin bōzu as he performs the chobokure. The submissive depiction of the thunder god, a divine figure in both Buddhism and Shintoism, in “Prodigal Buddha” symbolically visualizes these changes in popular perceptions of the newly popular deity and traditional religious institutions.

Moreover, the catfish became a symbol of anti-authority. By flipping over the keystone, he became free to cause an earthquake that destroyed the existing social and economic order. As a result of the earthquake, the economic and diplomatic issues the Tokugawa government had been preoccupied with temporarily quieted down. The earthquake catfish appeared to have more power to solve political problems than the government. The print “Prodigal Buddha” depicts the earthquake catfish as an antihero protesting the inept response of the Tokugawa government and religious institutions in the aftermath of the earthquake. The Tokugawa shogunate’s rule, which spanned over 300 years, came to an end 13 years after the Ansei Edo earthquake. By the time of the disaster, the government had encountered severe political, economic, and diplomatic problems. The Tenpō reforms issued between 1841 and 1843, which incurred the ire of the public, strictly controlled commoners’ everyday life, from what they could wear to what they could eat, which the commoners bristled at. However, policies pushing frugality in the Tempō reforms did not solve the economic problems. Prices rose, and the economic disparity expanded due to the long famine in the 1830s. The rich became more affluent, and the poor became poorer. In the city of Edo, people, including artisans and peddlers, suffered from poverty. For these lower-level commoners, the catfish became a menacing antihero capable of shaking off governmental suppression and criticizing their administrative capability.

While many catfish prints feature the catfish as a hero, it is notable that a thunder god is often juxtaposed with the catfish, acting as a foil to it. He loses his dignity as a deity and appears as an assistant to the catfish, thereby reinforcing the catfish’s position as the lead character and its possession of power. The thunder god’s submissive role in catfish prints is crucial for interpreting covert criticism of authorities, including the Tokugawa government. Although many catfish prints depict thunder gods alongside earthquake catfish, scholarly research on the role and function of thunder gods in such prints remains limited. This article examines the symbolism of thunder gods in catfish prints as a vehicle for critiquing religious institutions and ruling authorities. Through textual and visual analysis, it explores the interplay between imagery and sociopolitical commentary, with a particular focus on the “Prodigal Buddha” print.

2. The Ansei Edo Earthquake and Catfish Prints

In catfish prints, the catfish symbolizes the earthquake itself and plays multiple complex roles, embodying both good and evil. Some prints depict the catfish as a being deserving of punishment for the destruction it has caused. This type of imagery reflects both fear of earthquakes and hope for recovery, emphasizing the desire for a swift return to normalcy. People placed these prints in their homes as talismans to ward off future earthquakes (Ouwehand 2013, pp. 57–66). One print, entitled “Repulsing a Catfish” (Namazu taiji 鯰退治) shows a giant catfish being beaten up by men and women of all ages (Figure 2). This type of print served to ease the nerves of desperate and frustrated earthquake victims as they vented their anger toward the malevolent fish (Miura 2019, p. 94).

However, other catfish prints depict the catfish as a sort of hero making positive changes to society in the aftermath of the disaster. Many of these employ a motif of an anthropomorphized catfish to satirically report on social phenomena that occurred after the Ansei Edo earthquake. The shogunate’s Tenpō reforms severely restricted popular prints incorporating social critique or satire. However, the government was unsuccessful in completely restricting such prints. Printmakers seeking to report on social conditions often adeptly employed caricatures and visual puns in their criticism of the government to avoid censorship. Catfish prints were a part of this genre, as they reported on social reality through various techniques, including satire, visual puns, employment of motifs of well-known popular stories, and extensive text descriptions of the scenes they depicted. Even amid the disastrous situation just after the earthquake, catfish prints containing satirical depictions of society and government were widely circulated, suggesting the considerable demand among the public, who were eager to know more about the social situation after the earthquake (Tomizawa 2005, pp. 9–22, 68).

One print titled “A Catfish Making the Rich Release Their Gold and Silver” (Namazu ni kingin o hakasareru mochimaru; 鯰に金銀を吐かされる持丸) (Figure 3) depicts a catfish dressed in black and holding a sword, assuming an appearance typical of popular depictions of chivalrous outlaws and forcing rich people to spew gold coins from their mouths. Beneath them, artisans, whose businesses flourished in the wake of the earthquake, joyfully gather up the money. The print depicts the earthquake catfish as an antihero who forced wealthy merchants provide money for commoners.

In the Edo period, wealthy merchants donated money and food in cases of disaster, a common custom in early modern Japanese society. The names of donors and what they donated were announced publicly. Thus, although this custom of donating money was based on goodwill, wealthy merchants felt pressure to make donations to people in need. They had also lost their houses and much of their luxurious belongings; therefore, the earthquake brought them a massive financial loss (Kitahara 2013, pp. 246–50). In addition, the catfish in this print is shown to have caused the earthquake in order to help commoners overcome financial difficulties by providing more job opportunities for them, such as that of construction workers (Saitō and Imai 2004, p. 74).

In the print “The Construction of Peace” (Taira no tatemai;平の建舞) (Figure 4), catfish are depicted as carpenters engaging in the reconstruction of society under the supervision of Daikokuten, a god of wealth. The text reads that the catfish are creating an equal and peaceful world; the catfish are shown to be working on the construction of a large平 character, which means “peace”. People in Edo noticed that the earthquake was doubly unlucky for the rich, while the lower classes in Edo benefitted from good business. While rebuilding the city, carpenters, plasterers, and other professionals providing the materials and labor to rebuild the city enjoyed a brisk upturn in their business fortunes as wages for construction work increased (Wakamizu 2007, p. 70).

These contrasting depictions of the catfish in the wake of the Ansei Edo earthquake underscore the resilience and adaptability of the people in Edo. The catfish, symbolizing the contrasting qualities of destruction and resurgence, enmity and admiration, and killing and nurturing, was cleverly incorporated into prints to depict the calamity of 1855.

Another aspect of the new hero’s image was criticism of the government’s incompetency in dealing with national and social problems. The earthquake distracted people in Edo from the socio-economic unrest caused by the arrival of the Perry Expedition in 18535. As the chobokure in the print “Prodigal Buddha” describes, the earthquake temporarily made people forget the diplomatic crisis caused by the Perry Expedition, and the price of rice, which had risen in part as a consequence of the Perry Expedition, fell amidst the mayhem caused by the catfish.

A print titled “Debate between the Earthquake Catfish and America on the Second Day of the Tenth Month in the Year of Ansei 2” (Ansei ninen Jugatsu futsuka yoru daijishin namazu mondo; 安政二年十月二日夜大地震鯰問答) depicts a catfish and Commodore Perry playing a party game, competing with each other by tugging at a rope looped around both their necks (kubihiki; 首引き) as they debate the United States’ demand that Japan opens itself to trade and diplomacy (Figure 5). The catfish is dubious about America’s superiority over Japan and threatens to bury Perry in the mud if he refuses to leave.

A judge announces victory for the catfish, attributing to the catfish strong leadership qualities and the ability to negotiate with the American officials. Such diplomatic problems were or at least seemed to be resolved following the quake. The catfish was given credit for this achievement, not the Tokugawa government. Describing the new catfish hero’s exceptional contributions to creating a better society, these catfish prints mock the Tokugawa government’s incompetency in economic and diplomatic issues.

Japan has long taken a unique approach to coping with natural calamities by enshrining harmful entities as deities. This practice involves transforming evil spirits believed to be the cause of disasters into gods who protect people. These deities are then worshipped for their ability to provide worldly benefits in specific domains of life and mitigate unfavorable consequences in others. Through enshrinement, these seemingly contradictory aspects—harmful and beneficial, worldly and sacred—are harmonized in service of prosperity through the transformation of negative power to positive power.

As philosopher Matsudaira Narimitsu posits, Japanese deities embody a dual role as both protectors and destroyers, as many deities were evil spirits before being acknowledged as deities. In two of the most prominent such cases, the furious spirit of the Heian-period (794–1185), according to scholar and politician Sugawara no Michizane, who cursed the enemies responsible for his exile, became the god of learning, and a warrior named Taira no Masakado who led a large revolt against the imperial court in the tenth century became the tutelary deity of Edo (Matsudaira 1998, pp. 37–41).

Despite initial malevolent associations, the catfish was able to metamorphose into a force for good through such a process of enshrinement. This compatibility between the sacredness and earthiness of Japanese folk deities provides people with a foundation for the novel creation of popular deities called hayarigami (流行神). A hayarigami is a deity who emerges suddenly and quickly attracts vast numbers of worshippers. Such deification is an aspect of folk religion distinct from those found in such established institutional religions such as Buddhism and Christianity. Hayarigami are supported mainly by people from the lower social classes, such as peasants; however, they do have some limited cachet among the middle and upper classes as well as intellectuals (Ikegami 1994, p. 8).

Folk beliefs are often primitive and magico-religious, but they have sometimes provided the basis for new religious movements. Such beliefs have tended to surge in popularity during times of severe social unrest as people seek to deal with their confusion and anxiety. Still, their popularity typically wanes, and they become forgotten after the particular crisis that gave rise to them abates (Ikegami 1994, p. 5). The deification or heroization of the earthquake catfish observed in catfish prints manifests this phenomenon: the transformation of a malevolent figure responsible for causing earthquakes into a popular folk deity associated with preventing earthquakes and creating good fortune for the lower classes of Edo.

3. The Catfish in “Prodigal Buddha Social Reform Satirical Chant”

3.1. Chobokure Chanting

The print “Prodigal Buddha” depicts a catfish gannin bōzu performing a chōbokure, narrating the state of society in the aftermath of the disaster. Chobokure was a rap-like musical performance featuring vulgar chanting. It was typically performed by a pair of street performers who would also play percussion instruments and sometimes dance. Nakamura Yukihiko, a researcher of pre-modern Japanese literature, argues that chobokure originated in syncretic religious texts known as saimon (祭文). Saimon initially referred to prayers to deities recited as part of a religious ritual, but mountain priests (yamabushi; 山伏) developed saimon into a style of a popular song called utazaimon (歌祭文) (syncretic religious songs) with lyrics that included gossip and tales of bizarre social happenings (Nakamura 1957, p. 34).

Shikitei Sanba’s comic story “Typical Amateur Play” (Shirōto kyōgen monkirigata; 素人狂言紋切形), published in 1814, includes a chobokure in its narration of a vendetta story. Chobokure had become established as a novel medium for reporting news as well as a genre of popular folk songs by the mid-nineteenth century. As the popularity of chobokure grew, many more were created and published as two-to-three-page leaflets that sold very well in Edo (Nakamura 1957, p. 28). The chobokure reported the scandal of a wealthy merchant, Zeniya Gohei, who was suspected of poisoning a pond and was published with an illustration (Ono 1967, pp. 231–37).

By 1855, chobokure had become a signature art of gannin bōzu street performers. It also became a vehicle by which the masses could circulate criticism of authorities. One major example of such criticism was seen in the anti-foreign movement that developed in 1858 in response to the Tokugawa government’s consent to the Ansei Treaties with the United States, Great Britain, Russia, the Netherlands, and France. Newly written chobokure harshly rebuked the government for compromising with Western nations and criticized the samurai class as being addicted to the decadent pursuit of pleasure (Yamaguchiken Bunshokan n.d., pp. 164–66).

With chobokure, gannin bōzu took on a role beyond mere street entertainers, becoming spokesmen for the public in their expressions of the frustrations and disappointments townspeople felt toward authorities. They were highly visible, popular figures, and by the nineteenth century, their aggressive and audacious performances had become enshrined in other popular performing and visual arts, including in the era’s most celebrated theatrical form when adapted by renowned kabuki actor Bando Mitsugoro III (1775–1832). “A Series of Seven Magnificent Figures” (Shichimai tsuzuki hana no sugata-e; 七枚続花の姿絵), designed by Utagawa Toyokuni, depicts the actor’s performance as a gannin bōzu (Figure 6).

3.2. Criticism of Buddhist Temples

The chōbokure chanted by the gannin bōzu in “Prodigal Buddha” expresses criticism of Buddhist temples (see Appendix A for a complete translation of the chobokure):

The earth cracked, mud gushed out, and things toppled from shelves; people fell down because it was impossible to stand upright, and it was challenging to protect themselves from the continuously falling roof tiles and walls of mud. The evacuees had to shelter in wet, cold fields, holding their empty stomachs in a state of misery.

So many people died during the disaster that there were not enough coffins for all the corpses; bodies were put into barrels, tea boxes, and sugar containers. Even worse, some bodies were pushed into rainwater tanks covered with slimy green algae. The Buddhist priest was displeased by the decline in alms. Not only did he not recite the Buddhist sutras, but he also did not perform the last rites for the deceased. The crematory was heavily crowded with the newly dead, and the crematorium worker grimly stated that it would take more than ten days to cremate all the bodies.

The catfish gannin bōzu indicts Buddhist temples’ attitudes toward disaster victims: even in the devastating aftermath of the earthquake when people were seeking salvation for their souls, Buddhist temples sought to increase their profits from the disaster by charging higher fees for funeral services. “A Reportage on the Ansei Earthquake” depicts one of the memorial services for the deceased held in 13 temples (Figure 7). Many people attending the service are deceased victims of the disaster, many of them seriously wounded, some with missing body parts. One figure is entirely black, suggesting that his body was burnt by the fires caused by the earthquake. Another figure, a pregnant woman, shown in the front, is holding her bulky belly, seemingly still protecting her baby even after her death. In contrast to these visions of agony and grief, many monks appearing in print seem to have slight smiles on their faces, seeming to suggest that since the Tokugawa government funded the memorial, the temples profited from the service, illustrating how the death and destruction caused by the earthquake were lucrative for Buddhist institutions (Saitō and Imai 2004, p. 76).

Buddhist temples being motivated by monetary gain was hardly new at the time of the Ansei Edo earthquake. During the Edo period, Buddhist temples partly functioned as government offices at the local level. In the mid-seventeenth century, the Tokugawa shogunate instituted firm anti-Christian policies in its efforts to eradicate Christianity in Japan6. The government required Buddhist temples to participate with this policy and established a temple registration system called the danka (檀家) system. Each household was required to register with its local Buddhist temple by paying a mandatory registration fee, and the temple would certify that the family had no Christian members. Since the Tokugawa shogunate severely persecuted Christians, obtaining a patron certificate from the associate temple was a matter of life and death. As every member of society was required to have temple-issued certification, this system granted Buddhist temples a great deal of social control over their patrons.

The government used this system to firmly bind communities to their temples, with temples acting on behalf of the government to regulate and supervise people’s activities. The danka system made it difficult for people to change the temple with which they were affiliated. These affiliations lasted from birth to death: when a person was born, they would automatically become a patron of their family temple, and that same temple would conduct their funeral (Hur 2007, pp. 95–114). Buddhist temples often took advantage of their position in this government-authorized system by abusing their authority. In some cases, temples would insist that patrons observe and pay for the anniversary of the Buddha’s death and other significant days in Buddhism; if they did not, these power-abusing temples would regard the patron’s family as Christian.

People had to participate in as many rituals as their temples required, and the temples could charge patrons considerable amounts of money for each one. For Buddhist temples, their patrons in the danka system were a steady source of revenue. Many temples came to be more focused on receiving revenue than teaching Buddhist sutras and preaching the principles of Buddhism. Meanwhile, many patrons lost faith in their affiliated temples and sects, as temples were unable to meet the religious needs of their patrons (Tamamuro 1986, pp. 37–40).

The moral corruption of Buddhist priests was also widely known by the nineteenth century. News of a sexual scandal involving the chief priest of Enmeiin, a temple affiliated with the Tokugawa shogunate and family, circulated widely in the early nineteenth century. The handsome priest seduced many women, including women from high-ranking samurai families. He used Buddhist rituals as opportunities to pray for women to have sexual intercourse with them. He was executed by the temple magistrate in 1803, but the event was written about in fiction and became a hot topic of discussion (Yamaguchi n.d.). Further, an essay compiling information on events and customs during the Tokugawa period, “Reports on Current Society” (Kōgai zeisetsu; 巷街贅説), exposed the actual names, ages, and affiliations of sixty-nine Buddhist monks who were customers of the pleasure quarters and were arrested there (Jinsaiō 1912, pp. 9–11).

Popular fiction ridiculed the moneymaking business and prodigality of Buddhist institutions and monks. In “The Thousand-Armed Bodhisattva’s Hand-Rental Business” (Daihi no senroppon; 大悲千禄本), written by Shiba Zenkō, the thousand-armed Bodhisattva starts a hand-rental business in response to his financial hardship, a sarcastic take on the profit-seeking activities of Buddhist figures and institutions (Shiba 1785). “Three Saints in the Pleasure Quarters” (Hijiri yūkaku; 聖遊廓), written by an unknown author in 1757, and “Buddhist Deities as Current Good Customers of the Pleasure Quarters” (Tōsei daitsūbutsukaichō; 当世大通仏買帳), authored by Shiba Zenkō, both depict Buddhist deities as buying courtesans in the pleasure quarters (Hijiri Yūkaku 1757; Shiba 1781). That these stories were popular suggests that the public popularly perceived Buddhist monks as money-motivated and morally corrupt and that the people of Edo enjoyed mocking such monks and their institutions. The catfish’s chobokure in “Prodigal Buddha” laments the greed of Buddhist monks and temples. However, it asserts that even with such failed institutions, society can still be prosperous thanks to the power of the earthquake catfish, effectively proclaiming that the catfish has superseded the spiritual and governmental authority Buddhist temples.

As the gannin bōzu originally appeared as Buddhist monks or pseudo monks, their historical transformation into vulgar street performers symbolizes the change in how these institutions were perceived, from sacred to secular and even to depraved. The gannin bōzu disguise the catfish wears suggests an ironic attitude toward Buddhist institutions. His attire also demonstrates his criticism against the Buddhist institutions. Looking like a monk, he wears a short, tattered black coat and geta sandals and has a long orange rope, similar to the kind of informal ornamental cloth (wagesa; 輪袈裟) worn by Buddhist priests, draped around his neck. Showing the catfish gannin bozu in this shabby attire represents the scornful attitude many people held towards Buddhist monks and institutions in late nineteenth-century Japan. The “Prodigal Buddha Social Reform Satirical Chant” print denounces religious institutions for failing to properly fulfill their religious and societal roles.

4. Thunder Gods vs. the Catfish: Shifts in Power Dynamics

A thunder god accompanies the catfish in “Prodigal Buddha”, suggesting the deity’s subordinate status to the catfish. The appearance of the thunder god here follows closely the established conventions for depicting the deity: a hairy, animal-like, and monstrous figure. Traditionally, a thunder god is portrayed as a deity with a fearsome and dignified appearance. However, the thunder god here seems bereft of dignity. His visage contrasts starkly with that of the catfish’s more humanlike appearance, with hairless limbs, smooth skin, and a black monk’s robe. The god has a blue cord that looks like wagesa around his neck, similar to the one worn by the catfish, suggesting that he is a subordinate associate of the catfish. The thunder god follows behind the catfish while tapping a mokugyo, providing the rhythm for the chanting of the catfish’s vulgar and satirical chobokure. The thunder god is totally incorporated into the performance, a participant in the catfish’s critique of Buddhist institutions. In order to analyze the subordinate position of the thunder god in this print, it is essential to discuss the change of perspective of the deity in the depiction of thunder gods in art. Thunder gods have been worshipped in a diverse range of Japanese religious contexts. In Japanese folk belief, thunder gods are typically depicted as a figure of oni, a demon with horns and sharp teeth, wearing only a tiger-skin loincloth and carrying a wheel on his back with small drums tethered to it; he was originally believed to be an oni who lived in the sky. Since ancient times, people had feared this thunder god for his supernatural powers that could cause abrupt thunder and fierce, unpredictable downpours.

In the Heian period, thunder gods were associated with the vengeful spirits of those who had died violent deaths. In that era, a prominent scholar and politician named Sugawara no Michizane was exiled from the capital and forced to move to Dazaifu in Kyushu, where he died in despair, the result of a conspiracy concocted by Fujiwara no Tokihira; it was believed that his profound bitterness transformed Michizane into a thunder god known as Tenman-Tenjin. The Michizane legend furthered the perception of thunder gods as menacing and furious deities. In “Picture Scroll on the Origin of the Kitano Tenjin” (Kitano Tenjin engi emaki; 北野天神縁起絵巻), created in the twelfth or thirteenth century (Figure 8), Michizane is depicted as a thunder god with a red body, eyes and mouth wide open, and hair standing straight up, a figure showing his tremendous anger and destructive potential (Baba 1971, pp. 152–57).

There are multiple types of thunder gods in Shinto cosmology. One of the oldest chronicles of myths and legends in Japan, “The Records of Ancient Matters” (Kojiki; 古事記), compiled in 712, narrates that eight thunder gods were born from the dead body of the mother goddess of the Japanese archipelago, Izanami. Many shrines enshrine a particular thunder god. For example, the Kamigamo (上賀茂) shrine in Kyoto enshrines a young and energetic thunder god called Wakeikazuchi no kami (別雷神), and the deity of the Katsurakiniikasuhono ikazuchi (葛木坐火雷) shrine is the fire-thunder god Honoikazuchi no kami (火雷神). Thunder gods are also renowned as deities associated with rain since most thunderstorms produce heavy precipitation. Kashima is also a thunder god born from the blood of the fire god slain by his father. He is known as a hero who helped bring the Japanese archipelago down from the domain of gods, passing it to the imperial family so the emperor could rule it. He is also a god of the sword, worshipped by warriors (Tō 1968, p. 12).

In Buddhism, a thunder god and a wind god are guardians of the Buddha. They are often depicted as a pair in Buddhist art. In Buddhist cosmology, there is a class of protectors who fight against evil powers called Tenbu (天部), among which are a group known as the Twenty-Eight Attendants (Nijū-hachibu shū; 二十八部衆). They are guardians of the Thousand-Armed Kannon (Senju Kannon; 千手観音), who is devoted to helping people with her thousand arms and thousand eyes. This thunder god and wind god were known to be fearful and violent deities who caused terrible disasters. The Twenty-Eight Attendants fought against them and made peace with them. After that, both the thunder god and the wind god became subordinates of the Twenty-Eight Attendants. At the Sanjūsangen-dō temple in Kyoto, statues of both deities stand alongside statues of the Twenty-Eight Attendants in service to its deity, the Thousand-Armed Kannon (Nishimura 1977, pp. 36–37).

Thunder gods have been depicted in a wide variety of arts, and imagery related to thunder gods underwent a profound transformation in the Edo period. Tamamushi Toshiko observes that the thunder god was no longer the terrifying, human-tormenting demon god depicted in “Picture Scroll on the Origin of the Kitano Tenjin”. The thunder god instead came to be depicted as a joyous divine entity, as seen in the seventeenth-century screen painting “Screen of the Wind God and Thunder God” (Fūjin Raijin Zu Byōbu; 風神雷神図屏風) (Figure 9), produced by Tawaraya Sōtatsu. The screen depicts the thunder god—alongside the wind god—as a dignified deity, existing in a heavenly realm far removed from the earthly world of humanity (Tamamushi 1994, pp. 15–23).

Differences in the thunder god’s depiction in the very similar nineteenth-century “Sliding Door with Design of Wind God and Thunder God” (Fujin raijin zu fusuma 風神雷神図襖), designed by Suzuki Kiitsu (1796–1858), are illustrative of this transition: Here, the thunder god appears more blurred, incorporated in the vast black cloud that extends across the cloudy sky that makes up the whole screen. The cloud seems heavy and wet, suggesting sudden rainfall is about to come (Figure 10). This depiction emphasizes thunder’s association with clouds and rain. Compared with the thunder god depicted by Sōtatsu, this god looks more like an animal than a deity, as he has less hair on his head, and his deer-like horns are more distinctive. In addition, his face is hairier than Sōtatsu’s thunder god, and the inside of his mouth is red, while Sōtatsu’s thunder god has a golden mouth. Kiitsu’s thunder god has a more animal-like, vulgar appearance, demonstrating less divinity.

By the eighteenth century, meteorological knowledge based on observations of patterns in everyday life had come to be widely disseminated. A 1767 book on meteorology titled “A Weather Forecast Handbook for All” (Min’yō seiu benran; 民用晴雨便覧) explains the mechanism of the occurrence of thunder and lightning, employing the ancient Chinese philosophical theories of yin-yang and the five elements7. According to this book, thunder occurs when the balance of yin and yang is disturbed. The book also analyzes the relationship between thunder’s occurrence in summer and the weather forecast in fall (Nakanishi 1767, p. 24). By the nineteenth century, a thunder god was depicted as a symbol of the natural phenomena of thunder and rain in everyday life rather than a god existing in heaven.

Depictions of a thunder god in a kind of popular print series known as Ōtsu-e (大津絵), named for the Ōtsu station on the Tokaido highway, marked a significant transition in cultural perceptions. Ōtsu-e became popular in the latter part of the Edo period, depicting a more human-like, rash thunder god (Figure 11). Although Ōtsu-e have a humorous appearance, they also convey satire and insightful observations about life. The prints were popular souvenirs for travelers along the highway and were also used as charms for protection from disasters and to invite good luck (McArthur 1999, pp. 11–13). In one Ōtsu-e titled “Thunder God and His Drum” (Kaminari to taiko; 雷と太鼓), the thunder god has dropped his drum from his seat in the sky and has resorted to using an unconventional tool, an anchor, to help him retrieve it. The drum is what the god uses to make thunder’s loud sound, so he cannot perform his duty without his drum. Such a blunder, coupled with the foolish expression on the god’s face, seems incongruous with the respect one might expect to be shown toward a deity, as the print suggests he lacks seriousness in the execution of his divine duties. This portrayal suggests that the thunder god may have lost some of his divine dignity by the time the Ansei Edo earthquake occurred.

In Edo, sturdy statues of a thunder god and wind god stand at the entrance to the Sensō-ji temple called the thunder gate (kaminari mon; 雷門), serving as guards to the Asakusa Kannon. The gate was named for the statue of the thunder god. During the Ansei Edo earthquake, the statue collapsed. The temple itself did not sustain severe damage, but aside from the thunder god, only the spire of the five-storied pagoda within the temple’s precincts was leaning over, and a handful of statues of Buddha around the temple grounds fell down. However, the fragility of the thunder god statue at Sensō-ji negated his powerful image. Rumors spread around Edo and whispered that the broken statue meant that earthquakes were more potent than thunder (Miyata and Takada 1995, p. 332).

4.1. Catfish Prints Depicting Catfish and Thunder Gods

Many catfish prints juxtapose images of the thunder god with the earthquake catfish to highlight the latter’s growing power and, conversely, the declining status of the thunder gods. The print “Thunder God, Keystone, and Catfish Surround the Dead Monkey” (Shinda saru o kakomu raijin, kanameishi, namazu) portrays the thunder god, the Kashima keystone, and a catfish as kabuki actors (Figure 12) from a scene in the play The Abbreviated Version of the Rise and Decline of the Minamoto and Taira Clans (Hirakana Seisui-ki; ひらかな盛衰記), which dramatizes twelfth-century battles between the Genji clan and Heike clans8. Here, the thunder god is depicted as carrying a shamisen over his shoulder and holding a wig; his drums are broken. This depiction of the thunder god is a reference to how the fact that a large number of actors, musicians, and entertainers lost their jobs following the disaster and left Edo. The thunder god appears to be running away from Higuchi Jiro, the hero of the kabuki play, who appears in the upper-right corner of the print. A phrase announcing the main character’s entrance on the stage (hayashikotoba; 囃子詞) appears in the print: “When Higuchi appears, the thunder god takes off on a trip to get away from him”. This indicates that even a thunder god fears Higuchi Jiro, the mighty hero of the play. In this print, the hero Higuchi represents the earthquake. Because of the Ansei Edo earthquake, people in the entertainment business in Edo lost their jobs and moved to other areas.

The presence of the monkey and catfish together references a common motif seen in Ōtsu-e in which a monkey suppresses a catfish with a gourd. In front of the thunder god, the keystone, representing the deity of Kashima shrine, scolds the catfish, accusing it of being responsible for the death of the monkey whose body lies between them. Wearing a casual commoner’s kimono, Kashima takes the form of a human from the lower social classes. It is implied that Kashima had relied on the monkey to constrain the power of the catfish in his stead while he was out of town. That the monkey has died means that Kashima failed to fulfill his duty. The catfish, with a half-smiling facial expression and his hands on his head, does not seem to have serious regrets about the accident, suggesting he does not see the monkey’s death as a serious matter. Compared to the economic benefit the earthquake brought to the commoners, the death of a monkey was not a serious matter. In addition, employing the monkey for such a major responsibility is a silly idea that would have been popularly called saru-jie, literally meaning “the wisdom of a monkey”.

The print illustrates that the thunder god’s power has declined as he has failed to suppress the catfish, even as the earthquake catfish has become more confident in his ability to bring about positive social change. This print portrays the earthquake in two ways: as an anthropomorphized, insolent catfish accused of causing the massive earthquake and as the wise and chivalrous hero of the kabuki play, Higuchi Jiro. The first image of the catfish is based on the idea that the catfish should be held accountable for the earthquake since the disaster was caused by his shaking body. The depiction of an earthquake catfish in the print “Repulsing a Catfish” (Figure 2) is based on this concept. However, the catfish in this print uses a powerful image of the kabuki hero to represent the earthquake. It scares the thunder god, suggesting the catfish’s robust power to make favorable economic changes for the commoners as a hero, a depiction that echoes the catfish’s appearance in “A Catfish Making the Rich Release Their Gold and Silver” (Figure 3).

These complex portrayals of the thunder god in catfish prints invite us to consider the symbolism regarding the thunder god. The catfish print clearly references that the earthquake catfish had achieved a superior position over the thunder god. The Ansei Edo earthquake lowered the position of the thunder god, who had already come to be seen as nothing worth fearing by the advent of the nineteenth century. Earthquakes assumed a higher position than the thunder god due to their ability to cause massive fires, destroy a city, and upend society. The thunder god played a significant role in catfish prints, impressing viewers of the prints with the catfish’s power to change society and his elevation of status above a more conventional, traditional deity.

4.2. Catfish Challenging Governmental Authority

The devastating destruction wrought by the Ansei Edo earthquake challenged conventional perceptions of fear, with the earthquake’s terrifying power overshadowing other sources of fear. One typical configuration of catfish prints uses the four figures of the catfish, thunder god, fire, and an older man, a reference to a common saying that identifies the four most fearsome things in life as earthquake, thunder, fire, and a father or old man (Jishin, kaminari, kaji, oyaji; 地震、雷、火事、親父). The juxtaposition of these things carries profound symbolic implications for shifts in how fear, power, and authority function in society. One print with this structure, entitled “Earthquake, Thunder, Fire, and an Old Man” (Jishin, kaminari, kaji, oyaji; 地震、雷、過事9、親父) depicts the catfish, an anthropomorphized representation of fire, and the thunder god talking about the Ansei Edo earthquake at a party (Figure 13).

The catfish, fire, and thunder god are enjoying the party and talking about the earthquake caused by the catfish. The catfish and the fire god wear the attire of commoners, while the thunder god is half-naked, wearing his typical tiger-skin loin cloth. An angry-looking old man who is not joining the party looks at the trio from the upper right corner. He wears a specific jacket called kamishimo, suggesting that he is from the warrior class. The text of the print narrates his concern about how their dangerous traits can cause disaster. The face of the old man is painted red with white highlights; in kabuki, a face painted red indicates an evil character. Here, he is thinking about how he should suppress these dangerous gangsters before they do something harmful. However, his only solution to the problem is to pray to the respective deities believed to have the power to suppress thunder, fire, and earthquake. His spineless attitude toward the catfish, thunder god, and fire, stepping away from their danger, suggests that the old man, who symbolizes the Tokugawa government, has fallen out of his ranking as one of the four feared things.

The old man symbolizes the Tokugawa government, which proved unable to deal with the confusion after the Ansei Edo earthquake. This depiction suggests the old man has dropped out of the list of four fearful things, leaving only three: the earthquake, thunder, and fire. However, among the three remaining fearful things in this print, thunder appears to rank lower than the other two. The line spoken by the thunder god in the image reveals that the thunder god fell from the sky and broke his hip. He also disconsolately denigrates himself as a loser, as his drums broke when he fell from the sky, so he is now out of a job. The fire figure says that the fire happened due to the earthquake, admitting his subordinate position to the earthquake. The catfish explains that he shook his body to cause an earthquake because he wanted to change society. This textual and visual description suggests the catfish’s powerful position among the three and the government’s incompetence in dealing with social problems. In catfish prints depicting the catfish and thunder gods (Figure 1, Figure 12 and Figure 13), it is obvious that the thunder god had lost his divine power as a mighty and fearful deity, while the earthquake catfish, as a hayarigami, was ascendant in power and popularity for his ability to bring newfound prosperity to commoners. Catfish prints portraying the thunder god and the earthquake catfish together demonstrate the change in power dynamics between the two deities. As the thunder god represents the Kashima deity, who was also a patron deity for warriors (i.e., the ruling class), Buddhist temples, and political authority, the superior position of the catfish seen in catfish prints demonstrates the rise of skepticism and criticism of the authority and competency of temples and the government.

Since the Buddhist temples served as local administrative offices, criticism of Buddhist temples led to criticism of the Tokugawa shogunate. The variety of vulgar images of the thunder god propagated in catfish prints served as a pressure valve that allowed viewers to release their anger and frustration toward authorities. Along with the chobokure chanting that harshly accuses the Buddhist temples’ of corruption and sarcastically criticizes the government’s ability to deal with political and economic problems, the thunder god’s lower position as depicted in “Prodigal Buddha”—having fallen both from the sky and from the lofty status of a feared deity to a vulgar street performer—visually narrates the declining authority of the Tokugawa government.

5. Conclusions

Soon after the disastrous Ansei Edo earthquake, in which thousands of people in Edo were killed, a variety of catfish prints with various motifs depicting the earthquake and society after the disaster were anonymously published. While some catfish prints depict the catfish as a villain culpable for the deaths of thousands of people, others portray the catfish as a hero or deity of good fortune. The disaster led to unanticipated economic shifts that favored commoners, who, in turn, regarded the earthquake as a fortuitous event. Many catfish prints cleverly employ metaphorical techniques to convey the reality of social change and criticism against authorities. These prints, often laden with satirical content, hide their true intent within the motifs of popular culture, drawing on chobokure, kabuki, Otsu-e, and traditional sayings. This use of metaphor allowed the artists to express their dissent without fear of governmental punishment, adding a layer of depth and intrigue to the artwork. The power of art as social commentary is evident in these prints.

“Prodigal Buddha” depicts a powerful image of the catfish disguised as a gannin bōzu, shouting criticism against religious and governmental authorities. Gannin bōzu, though originally associated with Buddhist temples, had evolved into independent street performers, and, by the nineteenth century, their signature chobokure performance had become aggressive and radical, using sarcasm and biting satire in their political chanting. They had achieved a reputation as rebellious heroes fighting against the social order.

Drawing on the powerful chobokure chanting of the gannin bōzu, the catfish declares the inversion of power dynamics among new and existing deities. Buddhist temples had long been expected to have as their primary function the salvation of souls. However, they had become morally corrupt and shifted their focus to money making. Commoners in Edo had lost faith in the Buddhist temples. Their disappointment in Buddhist institutions flared when they refused to conduct funerals for people in need in the wake of disaster, having abandoned their foundational duties as priests in pursuit of monetary gain. The catfish gannin bōzu, pronouncing critical messages against the Buddhist temples, is a powerful complainant against Buddhist institutions.

The print “Prodigal Buddha” effectively employs the submissive image of the thunder god following the catfish gannin bōzu in his chobokure performance to accentuate the catfish’s power as an antihero. A thunder god symbolizes multiple concepts. Once a fearful, dignified deity who belonged in the sky, his image changed over time, and by the nineteenth century, he and his image had fallen down to earth. The thunder god also signifies the Kashima deity, who was originally known as a thunder god, who also lost his dignity and authority due to his failure to suppress the earthquake catfish. In the print, the catfish’s chobokure blames him for failing to stop the earthquake.

The thunder god also has an association with Buddhism as a guardian of the Buddhist deities. It was symbolic that the statue of the thunder god disgracefully collapsed in the earthquake. The declining dignity of the thunder god symbolically corresponds to the declining dignity of the Tokugawa shogunate. Thus, the thunder god in this print embodies the declining authority of the deities of Shintoism and Buddhism as well as governmental authority. Through multilayered symbolism in its image of the thunder, the print “Prodigal Buddha” successfully delivers a satirical critique of both religious and governmental authorities while contrastingly celebrating a new, popular deity in its straightforward depiction of two street performers.

The print describes the inversion of authority and suggests possibilities for creating a new world for commoners, free from existing religious and political authorities. The chaotic and unusual situation after the Ansei Edo earthquake allowed people to glimpse such a society. Catfish prints are excellent case studies of how people in Edo perceived the religious and political authorities through the chaotic post-disaster situation. However, since their criticism against authorities is carefully encoded, they are prone to being misread and having their meanings overlooked. The Tokugawa shogunate ended in 1868, fourteen years after the earthquake. Careful examination of the catfish prints can help us understand how people in Edo were aware of the disintegrating political system of the Tokugawa shogunate.