Nureki Chimuo Archive

Next, the second act of the kyogen at the Tsurukame Theater.

1. Light Play: Tatsuan’s Game of Life… Three Scenes

Tatsuan………Kawabe Saburo Wife O-Tetsu………Kawabe Harue Iwataya………Yamamoto Jun Wife O-Matsu………Bando Yoko

2. The Teacher’s Lesson: The Terakoya Scene

Takebe Genzo………Onoe Takenosuke Wife Tonami………Onoe Otojo Drooling Child………Kataoka Tobei Grandfather………Ichikawa Fukujiro Shunto Genba………Sawamura Tetsuzaburo Matsumaru………Bando Takejaku Wife Chiyo………Ichikawa Fukunosuke

3. Comedy: The Borrowed Wife, One Act

Nishiyama Ryokichi………Onoe Takenosuke Wife Ocho………Ichikawa Fukunosuke Okimi………Bando Yoko Former Wife Otaka…Bando Saikiko Geisha………Fushimi Yoko Ikakeya Masajiro…Sawamura Tetsuzo His Wife Miki……Onoe Otojo

This title and cast list are my transcription of the text from a poster affixed behind the hanamichi, which, as mentioned earlier, extends diagonally from the stage left side.

Since this was immediately after the war, specifically the year 1945 (Showa 20), the character “傳” in Suguwara Denju Tenarai Kagami” is written with the old-style kanji.

The character for “geisha” is written as “藝.”

And the “い” in “Ikakeya Masajiro” is written as “ゐ18.”

That aside, the role of the drooling grandfather in “Terakoya” assigned to me in this production was the part with the most lines I had since becoming a member of the Takejaku troupe.

“Yodarekuri” means a slovenly child who is always drooling.

In “Terakoya,” the drooling child is the largest and most mischievous among the many temple school children appearing at the curtain rise. This role is traditionally played not by a child actor, but by a named actor, meaning a well-known adult performer.

“Boy, this is a scene where we can really let loose. Let’s make the audience laugh together, you and I.” Tobei said, the actor playing the drooling boy.

Tobei still called me “boy,” just like he did back in the Hitachi public relations troupe days.

“Sugawara Denju Tenarai Kagami” is considered one of kabuki’s most famous plays, alongside “Chushingura” and “Yoshitsune Senbonzakura.” Since many are likely familiar with it, I will omit the synopsis.

I’ll briefly describe only the “Terakoya” scene.

The red-faced villain, Shunto Genba, and the protagonist of this act, Matsumaru, arrive at the home of Takebe Genzo, where Kan Shosho’s son, Kan Shusai, is being sheltered, accompanied by a large number of guards.

They deliver Lord Fujiwara no Tokihira’s order to Minamoto no Genso, cut off Sugawara no Shusai’s head and present it. They have come to verify the head.

At the home of Minamoto no Genzo, who serves as the temple school teacher, many village children have gathered as students.

The villagers, fearing their own children or grandchildren might be mistaken for Kan Shusai and beheaded, come in droves along the hanamichi.

Note: ゐ is an now unused hiragana character, generally pronounced the same as い, in

English think the “ee” in see.

The children are called by name by their fathers or grandfathers and return home one after another.

“...Next is fifteen year old Yodarekuri…” At the signal of the Gidayu singer raising his voice, I, playing the grandfather, stepped forward at the gate, bent low, and called out, “Bon-yo, bon-yo!” calling for the drooling boy.

Then, dressed like a mischievous little rascal, the drooling boy emerges from the back, clattering his feet loudly. He dons a paper armor, brandishing a broom as a naginata striking a grand pose.

The tension that had built up until now dissolves, and the audience bursts into laughter.

When the drooling boy saw me standing at the gate, “Oh, Grandpa, you’re here?” he said, and started to head outside.

But Shunto Genba, had been waiting, (A vulgar, filthy brat like you couldn’t possibly be Kan Shusai! Ugh, infuriating!)

With this feeling, he smacks Yodakuri’s head hard with the iron fan in his hand.

The smacked drooling kid comes crying loudly and sloppily to me, his grandfather.

“Grandpa, that red-faced samurai smacked my head!” he said, and continued crying sloppily.

“Oh dear, oh dear, how frightful, how frightful,” I say soothingly, taking Tobei’s hand and starting to walk home.

But the drooling child threw a tantrum and refused to budge.

From here, Tobei began an impromptu performance, saying to me, “This is a place where we can do as we please, so let’s make the guests laugh together.”

Standing stubbornly by the hanamachi, Tobei continues his tantrum, “If you won’t listen to what I say, I won’t move, you hear?”

“Oh, alright, alright, I’ll listen to anything you say,” I replied.

“Grandpa, will you really listen to anything I say?”

“Oh, I will, I will. Go ahead and tell me.”

“Well then, Grandpa. Take me to that place across the station with all the red lights,” said Tobei.

“What nonsense are you talking about?” I scolded him, waving my arms wide.

Here, the audience bursts into laughter.

The “other side of the station” referred to the area beyond the Joban Line’s Kameari Station, the opposite corner from Hitachi’s Kameari Factory and the Tsurukame Theater.

That’s where people from the “Sangyo District (Triple Industry)” of Kameido in Koto Ward had relocated after being displaced by the massive bombing raid on the downtown area by the American air force on the night of March 9th.

“Sangyo” was a colloquial term referring to three types of businesses, restaurants, waiting rooms, and geisha houses. It’s now obsolete, but when I was a child, the name “Sangyo District” still lingered.

“That area is the Sangyo District, so kids shouldn’t go near it.”

It only fueled my imagination. I’d wonder what kind of mysterious, frightening, yet fascinating people lived in a place children weren’t allowed to approach, and my heart would race with excitement.

The audience erupted at the drool-worthy line, “Take me to the place with the red lights across from the station,” and that’s exactly why.

“What are you talking about? That place isn’t for kids like you,” I scolded.

“No, no, Bon wants to go! I want to go to the place with lots of pretty girls wearing red kimonos and white powder!”

Spurred on by the audience’s laughter, Tobei continued to shout loudly.

The audience laughed simply at the bizarre contrast. I, playing the grandfather, was still a sixteen year old boy, while Tobei, playing the spoiled grandson, was a large man in his forties.

At that time, I was still a virgin.

I had never even gone to see the corner where they had relocated their business from Mamiedo to Kameari.

I was interested, but it felt frightening, and I couldn’t go.

People called me a terribly precocious brat for writing plays about love between men and women without batting an eye, but when it came to such places of prostitution, I was extremely timid.

That timidity, actually, remains with me to this day. You might not believe it, but it’s true.

Grandpa, drooling, finally coaxes his whining grandson to stop fussing, turns him around, and begins walking.

After two or three steps, the grandson climbs off Grandpa’s back and instead hoists Grandpa onto his own back.

“Hold on tight, Grandpa!” he says, retreating down the hanamichi with a comical waddle.

Laughter and applause erupt from the audience.

The play “Terakoya” then descends into an utterly gruesome tragedy where the innocent son of Matsumaru is sacrificed and beheaded. So perhaps this “laughter” in the first half is forgivable.

It is the unique artistry of Kabuki’s staging.

Both the protagonist Matsumaru and the antagonist Shunto Genba remain silent and motionless, maintaining solemn expressions throughout this “laughing” scene.

Bando Takejaku’s Matsumaru was a magnificent portrayal, filled with spirit and profoundly heart-warming.

Immediately after the curtain fell on that Matsumaru, “Fukujiro-san, you’re quite good.” I was praised, and I felt as if I were soaring to the heavens.