The Mirror of the Gods
. 1540 manuscript.
257
Figures
Reiwa 1 (2019).6.13. Around the hour of the Dragon, I set out for Urin’in
Temple. When I arrived at the modest early eighteenth-century recon-
struction, it was deserted, as usual. Despite the Urin’in’s location near
Kyoto’s Kita-Ōji Dōri, a major thoroughfare, and its proximity to the
famous Zen temple Daitokuji, it is off the beaten tourist path. (This
being said, in an unprecedented surge of activity, three visitors passed
through during the hour that I spent here.) Even the seemingly ubiqui-
tous
omamori
(amulets) are nowhere to be found. The temple’s present
circumstances make it hard to remember that it has imperial origins
dating back to the early ninth century. Even more so that it was once
famous for lectures on the
Lotus Sutra
and so well recognized that the
unknown author of
The Great Mirror
chose it as the setting for the first
full-length narrative work to present Japan’s history as driven by cosmo-
logical principles, marking the beginning of an entirely new way of writ-
ing about the past. In spite of the Urin’in’s relative neglect today, because
of its importance to the subject of this book, I thought that a return to it
would provide the best setting to express my gratitude to those who have
made this project possible. Or, to paraphrase one of the narrators who
will appear in it, to reveal just how all of this has come about—for any-
one who would but listen.
This book grew out of my dissertation, so I should begin by thank-
ing my committee members, particularly Tom Hare, my advisor, and Ivo
Smits. I am especially grateful for the intellectual latitude they allowed
Preface
x
Preface
me. Although as a graduate student I was not always able to appreciate
the value of this freedom, when it came time to sit down and write an
actual book, I realized how important it was. Their guidance, along with
support from Martin Collcutt, Thomas Conlan, Komine Kazuaki, and
the late H. Richard Okada, has at a fundamental level made this book
possible.
Despite its origins in my dissertation, however, most of the work for
this project has unfolded at the University of Michigan, where I am lucky
to have found intellectual camaraderie and friendship among members
of the Department of Asian Languages and Cultures, as well as some in-
terlopers from the History Department, thanks to the “Fragments”
workshops hosted there. Micah Auerback, Ben Brose, Miranda Brown,
Youngju Ryu, and Hitomi Tonomura each took the time to read chap-
ters from (or in some cases, the entirety of ) earlier versions of this work
and offer constructive feedback. Don Lopez chaired an invaluable man-
uscript workshop for me as well as offering key advice about navigating
numerous stages of the writing and publishing process. Chris Hill and
David Rolston both provided useful reading suggestions that have found
their way into this work. Juhn Ahn, SE Kile, and Emily Wilcox kindly
assisted with sundry technical matters.
Farther afield (geographically speaking), I would particularly like to
thank David Bialock and David Spafford for their generous feedback on
this book. I have some sense of how much time and energy went into read-
ing and commenting on an entire draft, and the benefit of having fellow
medievalists engage so thoroughly with my work at a critical stage was
immeasurable. In a related capacity, I would also like to express my grat-
itude to my two (recently revealed) reviewers—Terry Kawashima and
Elizabeth Oyler—for their generous and constructive input, as well as
my editor, Robert Graham, for suggestions and shepherding me through
the publication process. And in more general matters of managing book
writing (perhaps best classified as “aiding and abetting”), I wish to thank
Anna Andreeva, Varuni Bhatia, Kevin Carr, Madhumita Lahiri, Levi
McLaughlin, Matthew Stavros, Jolyon Thomas, Molly Vallor, and Jona-
than Zwicker.
I have also profited from several opportunities to share my work as it
was developing. The Kyoto Asian Studies Group supplied a venue for one
of the earliest public presentations of my postdissertation research in 2016.
Preface
xi
Subsequent opportunities for exchange have likewise been beneficial. In
this vein, I would like to voice my appreciation to Matthew Fraleigh and
Jason Webb for including me at “Loose Canons II,” as well as Mack Hor-
ton for his comments; Angela Dragan, Magdalena Ciubancan, and the
organizers of the 2016 “Japan—Pre-modern, Modern, and Contemporary”
conference at Dimitrie Cantemir University for making me a guest
speaker; Edward Kamens for giving me the chance to speak in the CEAS
Japan Colloquium series at Yale University; Cynthea Bogel for bringing
me to Kyushu University for a lecture; and the organizers of the Kyoto
Lecture Series, Martin Nogueira Ramos and Silvio Vita, for giving me
one last chance for feedback before my revisions were due.
Support for this project has been provided by multiple travel grants
from the University of Michigan Center for Japanese Studies, as well as
a Japanese Research Fellowship from the Hakuho Foundation, which has
enabled a yearlong stay at Kyoto University under the auspices of the
Graduate School of Education. Here, I would especially like to say thank
you to Niels van Steenpaal for agreeing to host me, and all that has en-
tailed in terms of offering feedback on chapters and pushback on
presuppositions.
Acknowledgments (even when couched in a preface) are, in the end,
a publicly oriented genre; but like a medieval scholiast, I believe that some
information is better suited for limited circulation. I trust that the hand-
ful of people upon whom I have relied far more than their antiseptic rec-
ognition above suggests (as well as those completely behind the scenes)
will understand if I deviate from genre conventions here and decide to
keep some things beyond the realm of the written word. This in no way
lessens my gratitude to each of you—I hope that you know who you are
and that we can celebrate soon.
And with that, it is time to move back to the eleventh century.
A few words about the stylistic conventions of this book. For historical
figures, names follow the traditional order of surname followed by given
name. In the case of secondary scholarship, for texts in Japanese—as well
as their translations—I follow the Japanese name order. Where the orig-
inal language of publication is English, the given name is followed by the
surname, regardless of the nationality of the author. All Japanese names
are romanized in accordance with modified Hepburn style, save where a
scholar has indicated an alternative romanization. There, I defer to the
individual author. For Chinese historical figures, even within the con-
text of Japanese texts, I romanize using pinyin to facilitate comparisons
with non-Japanese sources.
Japanese place names are romanized in accordance with readings pro-
vided in the primary sources wherever possible. Where such readings are
not indicated, as in the case of certain temples, I defer to the institution’s
current preference, although I indicate the possibility of multiple read-
ings at the site’s first appearance. When referring to specific dates, I fol-
low the traditional dating system. Thus, they appear as “Reign Period year
(Western year).Month.Day.” The presence of a small “i” indicates an in-
tercalary month.
Lastly, for Japanese and Chinese titles of and passages from primary
sources, I use a hybrid approach. For Japanese works, I supply a roman-
ization of the title followed by an English translation in parentheses. Al-
though most of the works in this book have not been translated into
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