Ghosts and Demons in Japanese Prints

I’ve been itching to revisit the Chicago Art Institute, and over Thanksgiving I got my wish. This time we were able to tour the entire museum, including a special exhibit on ghosts and demons in 19th century Japanese prints.

One of the most ingenious pieces on display depicted a scene from a kabuki performance. As you can see, the center figure is pouncing upon a hapless damsel, having transformed from a maiden to a ghoul. This required a rapid costume change from the actor, which we can observe by turning a flap on the print. Kind of like a children’s book.

Turn to the right, and it’s a woman.

To the left, and it’s a ghoul.

The second print was far more frightening. In it we see a ghost made of ceramic plates, rising into the coal-black sky bent on haunting her murderous husband. According to legend, he slew her for breaking the dishes, but in death she found power that she never had in life.

Hide your eyes, because this next print is even spookier. This time a ghoul is in the bedroom, peeking through the mosquito netting at the treacherous couple who drowned him. Aren’t the colors incredible? And look at those tendrils by the ghost’s skull. They remind me of seaweed, perhaps alluding to his watery grave.

Alright everyone, calm yourselves. Warai Hannya, pictured below, is our last demon. She was known for preying upon children and even clutches a head in the print. Nice lady, right?

Now that you’ve been thoroughly spooked by the bad guys, it’s time I introduced you to a hero. Meet Shōki the Demon Queller. In the print below you can see him astride a slavering tiger, mincing goblins to chutney with a wicked-blue sword. Pictures like this were displayed for the Boys’ Day festival, and Shōki banners were used as a safeguard against disease. I guess that sword kills bacteria as well as demons.

What did you think of the prints? Do you have a favorite? Or are they too grotesque for that?

How To Make An Authentic Chiton

The other day whilst perusing the Internet, I came upon a set of instructions for making a chiton, or Greek tunic. It’s surprisingly simple, and best of all no sewing is required. All you need is a white sheet, five safety pins, a belt, and a friend to model it for you. The latter was supplied by one of my buddies, who we’ll just call Mymy.

STEP ONE - Fold the sheet lengthwise until it’s as long as you want the chiton to be. Traditionally it was worn to the ankle, but Mymy and I decided to be scandalous and made ours shorter.

STEP TWO - Grasp one side of the sheet and hold it in front of your body. Note that I said side, not corner. You want to grab the cloth a few inches behind that. See how Mymy holds it?

STEP THREE - Wind the other half around your back.

STEP FOUR - Pin the two top corners together. If you don’t have a pin, hairbands will suffice.

STEP FIVE - Take the piece of material held in your right hand and attach it to the corresponding cloth behind your back. Greek women used brooches, but again, pins or hair ties will suffice. Once this step is completed, you will have created the first sleeve. Slip your arm through.

STEP SIX - Repeat Step Five using the material in your left hand.

STEP SEVEN - Next pin the slit on your left together. Tie a belt around the middle, strike a pose, and you’re done. Congratulations!

If you decide to give the chiton a try, let me know how it went in the comments. I’d be happy to answer any questions.

The Leper King

Tutor discovers Baldwin's leprosy

In 1170, Prince Baldwin’s tutor noticed something strange about him. He felt no pain while roughhousing with the other boys, even when they dug their fingernails into his arm. Soon it became apparent that the young prince had contracted leprosy. He was only nine years old.

Tragedy struck again in 1174. The king was dead, and the only possible successor was Baldwin, who was by this time in his early teens. Managing an Empire is a major undertaking, even for an adult, but Baldwin had neither experience nor health on his side. Right from the beginning, his reign appeared to be doomed.

And yet despite the odds, Baldwin clung to the throne. He lived under the guidance of regents until the age of fifteen, then assumed full control of Jerusalem. By this time he was noticeably sick with leprosy. The last thing he needed was a kingdom to worry about, but once again Baldwin did not shirk from leadership.

One of his first decisions was to attack the Muslim king, Saladin, who had been plundering Syrian village of Aleppo. If Syria fell, Jerusalem would soon follow. It was a brittle situation requiring uncommon wisdom. One wrong move could result in the death of thousands, but Baldwin proved to be an excellent strategist. First he struck Damascus, putting Saladin on the defensive, then forged an alliance with the Byzantine Empire and prepared to attack Egypt. Unfortunately an important member of the raid died, Baldwin’s own health began to wane, and the invasion was canceled.

About this time several nobles stripped their support from Jerusalem, leaving the city only 600 knights and a few thousand infantrymen to face Saladin’s army. With the enemy just 45 miles away, the time had come for Baldwin to make a final stand. He rose from his sickbed, mounted his horse and stood in the path of Saladin’s force.

A contemporary author wrote that Baldwin appeared “already half dead.” The rest of the army wasn’t much better. The sight of the teeming Muslim soldiers drove knives into their hearts. Perhaps sensing this, Baldwin called for the Bishop of Bethlehem to present the relic of the One True Cross. The king prostrated himself before it, prayed earnestly for victory, and encouraged the troops to hold fast.

After that, the Leper King led the charge. He raised a sword with one bandaged hand, striking down the enemy wherever they dared appear. The people said Saint George road beside him, and under Baldwin’s leadership the crusaders not only defended Jerusalem but utterly trounced the invaders. Almost ninety percent were killed. Saladin himself barely escaped.

Baldwin returned home victorious, but his troubles weren’t over yet. Illness plagued the Leper King all of his life, rendering his arms, legs and vision useless. Several times he tried to abdicate, but was unable to find a suitable replacement. He died of sickness on May 6, 1185, and without his guidance Jerusalem fell to Saladin two years later.