Two evenings ago I was walking home in the rain from Jiyugaoka Station, and spotted about 10 fire engines, a horde of people, and a huge billow of smoke that drifted up into the sky in spite of heavy rain from an approaching typhoon.
The sad fact was that a classic Taishō period (1912-26) mansion was up in flames, and the firefighters were struggling with a huge blaze that consumed a wonderful, historic wooden building.
Today I went back to see the outcome.
The photo (right) was taken just over the front gate, where a wheelchair was disturbingly left and police tape wound across the entrance. The destruction is pretty intense - the whole building is a skeleton now, with the refuse of burned telephone books, kimono, furniture, a TV, and even a coveted old reel-to-reel tape player parked on the small roof above where the front door used to be.
For Okusawa, a generally wealthy area, this is an incredibly big space. And sadly it was probably the largest old house I'd seen in Tokyo - till now.
This is the way the place was 18 months ago.
The trees surrounding the huge property made it difficult to get a decent shot from the street; I always intended to climb the wall (discreetly!) and get a couple of good photos. Now, sadly, it's too late.
There's nothing like a disaster - or an ongoing rash of 'em - to make you appreciate what you have and where you are.
In my case where I am is Tokyo, and this is one of my fave temples, a sprawling and (mostly) unknown treasure called Kuhonbutsu Temple (九品仏浄真寺), located near the appropriately named Kohonbutsu Station, two stops from us on the Oimachi Line.
It's about 20 minutes from Shibuya, but there's a world of distance between the two places.
Kuhonbutsu is also sandwiched between Futako-Tamagawa — rated the fourth most popular place to raise children in Tokyo — and Jiyugaoka... the fourth most preferable place to live single, footloose and fancy-free.
Aside from this odd sense of spiritual displacement on either side, that which sets this consecrated turf apart from the other local shrines and temples in this city is the sheer size and spaciousness of the sanctuary, as well as three wonderfully renovated, historic main halls that house a set of nine massive statues of Buddha, captured for posterity in subtly different poses.
These affectations are s'posed to have some special meaning, though I haven't any idea quite what these may be and haven't bothered to check the significance out online.
It's like Madonna, circa 1989, if she were tastefully cast in bronze.
According to the brochure Kuhonbutsu Temple was constructed several hundred years ago on the grounds of the old Okusawa Castle, and sections of these aged foundations can still be discovered if you look hard enough.
The stand-out is the photogenic bell tower (sho-ro), built in 1708, roofed in copper and adorned by a huge clapper that was cast in honour of the two great bodhisattvas (Kannon and Seishi) - fittingly designated a national cultural treasure.
I went here again two days ago, just to breathe in the silence and tranquility away from the non-stop newscasts about aftershocks and radiation, and it was genuinely moving. Funny that. I'm normally so easily moved.
One of my books when I was a kid was Stan Lee’s 1977 tome, The Superhero Women - which included a short tale of his, illustrated by John Romita, that previously appeared in Savage Tales #1 (1971).
‘The Fury of the Femizons’ featured a gynecocentric warrior society.
Yep, you read right: gynecocentric. Ahhh, the el cheapo thrills of an online thesaurus; for those without one, "gynocentrism" roughly acquaints to matriarchal and it's my new vocab discovery of the day - possibly good for use bamboozling posh and/or pretentious people at glad-bag dinner parties. Or not.
Anyway, in this particular society women call the shots while the men-folk are there merely to sit pretty and display a peck or two.
A similar theme was used in the 1977 second season of Space: 1999 in the episode ‘Devil’s Planet’, in which Commander Koenig crashes his Eagle on a planetary penal colony, where he finds himself the prisoner of the voluptuous Elizia and her equally S&M-inclined female prison guards.
The notion even shaped up an ongoing skit (‘The Worm That Turned’, 1980) in the British comedy The Two Ronnies... in which Mars Bars were hilariously rebranded Pa’s Bars.
Of course, Women’s Lib in the 1970s helped to shake up the conventional male/female wisdom personified in the ‘50s and Mad Men, and these days women do happen to run huge corporations and direct Oscar-winning films.
In Japan, however, things can be a little different.
Women’s Lib never actually took root here and at times the traditional Japanese family image resembles something like Leave It To Beaver – dad out earning a buck (as well as often drinking and carousing at yakitori bars at night) while mum's stuck in the kitchen and raising the kids; alternatively you can see many of them treating themselves at cake shops in Jiyugaoka with their erstwhile maternal mates.
While there have been matriarchal societies in the past in which women held sway over the men folk – even in fiercely patriarchal Japan – the last attempt here was probably the Empress Jingu in the 3rd century, though the historical veracity of her reign is these days contested anyway.
Not so surprising, really, when the Encyclopaedia Britannica notes that “aided by a pair of divine jewels that allowed her to control the tides, she is said to have begun her bloodless conquest of Korea in 200, the year in which her husband died.” The divine jewels sound like fun.
More recently succession to emperor has been regulated by the Japanese Diet (Parliament) and the current law excludes women from the the process.
Which brings us to the new Japanese movie The Lady Shogun and Her Men, titled more simply Ōoku (大奥) over here and released in cinemas last month.
If you look up Ōoku on Wikipedia you get this explanation: "The Ōoku refers to the harem of Edo Castle, the section where the women connected to the reigning Shōgun resided."
Directed by TV veteran Fuminori Kaneko, the film stars Kou Shibasaki (Battle Royale) as an alternate-reality 18th century shogun, and Arashi member Kazunari Ninomiya (Letters From Iwo Jima) as one of her gigolo-concubines, in a world decimated by an imagined disease that’s killed off most of the male population.
Think something a bit left-of-centre in shock/schlock value for local audiences.
It’s based on a more feminist, punchy manga by Yoshinaga Fumi (Ooku: The Inner Chambers) which had the smarts enough to win the 2009 James Tiptree Jr. Award for science fiction which expands or explores one's understanding of gender.
Yet this celluloid romp borders visually on an over-the-top J-Pop videoclip and while the script has all the hallmarks of a Japanese TV soapie (director Kaneko’s usual stomping ground), there are moments of fun and Shibasaki’s presence adds a deeper flavour.
For some of us, however, it feels like we’ve been here before – and honestly I think Ronnies Barker and Corbett did it better.
Another (mostly) unknown treasure in Tokyo is the sprawling Kuhonbutsu Temple, located right next to Kohonbutsu Station on the Oimachi Line, just 20 minutes from Shibuya (and 5 minutes from us).
It's oh-so-conveniently sandwiched between Futakotamagawa — rated the fourth most popular place to raise children in Tokyo — and Jiyugaoka... the fourth most preferable place to live single, footloose and fancy-free.
Aside from this odd sense of spiritual (dis)placement, that which sets this holy place apart from all the other local shrines and temples is the sheer size of the sanctuary, as well as the three wonderfully renovated, historic main halls that house a set of nine massive statues of Buddha, captured in subtly different poses.
It's like Madonna, circa 1989, if she were tastefully cast in bronze.
Kuhonbutsu Temple (本堂 - 九品仏浄真寺) was also apparently constructed several hundred years ago on the old grounds of Okusawa Castle, and parts of the aged foundations of this can still be discovered if you look hard enough.
So if you’re looking for a spot of relaxation, reflection and contemplation away from the hustle and bustle of the 24-hour metropolis at play outside the temple’s walls, this gorgeous location is the place to discover it—with the stand-out here being the serenely photogenic bell tower (sho-ro), built in 1708, adorned by a huge clapper that was cast in honor of the two great bodhisattvas (Kannon and Seishi), and fittingly designated a national cultural treasure.
Not quite sure what the point is of this Citroën, parked permanently in Jiyugaoka, about 5 minutes from our place. I know it's a permanent installation, 'cos the vehicle is all rusted up and the tyres are flat, plus it's chained off from the outside world.
Given that the householders have a relatively huge house in Jiyugaoka - one of the more expensive residential areas in Tokyo - and also have a classic Mustang in their driveway, I'm more inclined to believe that these people love classic cars than that they got all risque and lobbed off their clothes during the Summer Of Love in 1967... and remain nostalgic to this day.
