Momotarō
This is Fab Figmentals, the podcast that explores the realm of curious creatures, magical monsters, and beautiful beasts. I’m your host, Lindsey Morse.
On each episode of Fab Figmentals, we dive into the folklore and history of a different legendary creature and share a story about it.
Last episode, I teased that this week we’d be looking at mesmerism, animal magnetism, and Edgar Allen Poe, but I’m going to bump that episode for another week or two. I still need a little bit more time to weave things together. I hope you understand.
Instead, this week we’re going to look at a famous Japanese folktale: Momotarō, the story of the “peach boy.”
The legend of Momotarō is an old one, and it’s been told many many times. In most cases, the legend goes a little something like this:
An old, childless couple finds a peach floating down a river, and when they fish it out and take it home, the peach opens up to reveal a small baby.
They’re thrilled to welcome the child into their home, and they raise the peach boy as if he were their own son. Momotarō is a special child, and as he grows up his adoptive parents believe more and more that he’s destined for greatness.
One day, Momotarō decides to travel off in hopes of defeating a band of man-eating giants that have been wreaking havoc on his homelands. The story of how he gets there (and the friends he makes along the way), is really fun.
There are a number of English translations, and the one we’re going to hear today I found in a compilation of stories called A Book of Giants: Tales of very Tall Men of Myth, Legend, History, and Science. The story is called "The Peach's Son,” and it was first published in a book called Myths and Legends of Japan, by F. Hadland Davis.
I’ve made a couple of small tweaks, but the story is largely unchanged.
Let’s dive in.
Here’s “The Peach’s Son”:
****
One day, while an old, childless woman stood by a stream washing her clothes, she chanced to see an enormous peach floating on the water. It was quite the largest she had ever seen, and as this old woman and her husband were extremely poor she immediately thought what an excellent meal this extraordinary peach would make. As she could find no stick with which to draw the fruit to the bank, she suddenly remembered the following verse:
Distant water is bitter,
The near water is sweet;
Pass by the distant water
And come into the sweet.
This little song had the desired effect. The peach came nearer and nearer till it stopped at the old woman's feet. She stooped down and picked it up. So delighted was she with her discovery that she could not stay to do any more washing, but hurried home as quickly as possible.
When her husband arrived in the evening, with a bundle of grass upon his back, the old woman excitedly took the peach out of a cupboard and showed it to him.
The old man, who was tired and hungry, was equally delighted at the thought of so delicious a meal. He speedily brought a knife and was about to cut the fruit open, when it suddenly opened of its own accord, and the prettiest child imaginable tumbled out with a merry laugh.
"Don't be afraid," said the little fellow. "The Gods have heard how much you desired a child, and have sent me to be a solace and a comfort in your old age.”
The old couple were so overcome with joy that they scarcely knew what to do with themselves. Each in turn nursed the child, caressed him, and murmured many sweet and affectionate words. They called him Momotarō, or "Son of a Peach."
When Momotarō was fifteen years old, he was a lad far taller and stronger than boys of his own age. The making of a great hero stirred in his veins, and it was a knightly heroism that desired to right the wrong.
One day Momotarō came to his foster-father and asked him if he would allow him to take a long journey to a certain island in the North-eastern Sea where dwelt a number of man-eating giant ogres, who had captured a great company of innocent people, many of whom they ate. Their wickedness was beyond description, and Momotarō desired to kill them, rescue the unfortunate captives, and bring back the plunder of the island that he might share it with his foster-parents.
The old man was not a little surprised to hear this daring scheme. He knew that Momotarō was no common child. He had been sent from heaven, and he believed that all the ogres and demons could not harm him. So at length the old man gave his consent, saying: "Go, Momotarō, slay the ogres and bring peace to the land.”
When the old woman had given Momotarō a number of rice-cakes the youth bade his foster-parents farewell, and started out upon his journey.
While Momotarō was resting under a hedge eating one of the rice-cakes, a great dog came up to him, growled, and showed his teeth. The dog, moreover, could speak, and threateningly begged that Momotarō would give him a cake. "Either you give me a cake," said he, "or I will kill you!”
When, however, the dog heard that the famous Momotarō stood before him, his tail dropped between his legs, and he bowed with head to the ground, requesting that he might follow "Son of a Peach," and render to him all the service that lay in his power.
Momotarō readily accepted this offer, and after throwing the dog half a cake they proceeded on their way.
They had not gone far when they encountered a monkey, who also begged to be admitted to Momotarō's service. This was granted, but it was some time before the dog and the monkey ceased snapping at each other and became good friends.
Proceeding upon their journey, they came across a pheasant. Now the innate jealousy of the dog was again awakened, and he ran forward and tried to kill the bright-plumed creature. Momotarō separated the combatants, and in the end the pheasant was also admitted to the little band, walking decorously in the rear.
At length Momotarō and his followers reached the shore of the North-eastern Sea. Here our hero discovered a boat, and after a good deal of timidity on the part of the dog, monkey and pheasant, they all got aboard, and soon the little vessel was spinning away over the blue sea.
After many days upon the ocean they sighted an island. Momotarō bade the bird fly off, a winged herald to announce his coming, and bid the ogres surrender.
The pheasant flew over the sea and alighted on the roof of a great castle and shouted his stirring message, adding that the ogres, as a sign of submission, should break their horns.
The ogres only laughed and shook their horns and shaggy red hair. Then they brought forth iron bars and hurled them furiously at the bird. The pheasant cleverly evaded the missiles, and flew at their heads.
In the meantime Momotarō had landed with his two companions. He had no sooner done so than he saw two beautiful damsels weeping by a stream, as they wrung out blood-soaked garments.
"Oh!" said they pitifully, "we are daughters of daimyos, and are now the captives of the Demon King of this dreadful island. Soon he will kill us, and alas! there is no one to come to our aid." Having made these plaints the women wept anew.
"Ladies," said Momotarō, "I have come for the purpose of slaying your wicked enemies. Show me a way into yonder castle.”
So Momotarō, the dog, and the monkey entered through a small door in the castle. Once inside this fortification, they fought tenaciously. Many of the ogres were so frightened that they fell off the parapets and were dashed to pieces, while others were speedily killed by Momotarō and his companions. All were destroyed except the King, and he resolved to surrender, and begged that his life might be spared.
"No," said Momotarō fiercely. "I will not spare your wicked life. You have tortured many innocent people and robbed the country for many years.”
Having said these words he gave the Demon King into the monkey's keeping, and then proceeded through all the rooms of the castle, and set free the numerous prisoners he found there. He also gathered together much treasure.
The return journey was a very joyous affair indeed. The dog and the pheasant carried the treasure between them, while Momotarō led the Demon King.
Momotarō restored the two daughters of daimyos to their homes, and many others who had been captives on the island. The whole country rejoiced in his victory, but no one more than Momotarō's foster-parents, who ended their days in peace and plenty, thanks to the great treasure of the ogres which Momotarō bestowed upon them.
****
It’s unclear just how far the legend of Momotarō goes back. The oldest known written version dates back to the Genroku era of 1688-1704, but it’s likely the story was around before then. Oral versions may have emerged as early as the Muromachi period, which ran from 1392-1573.
Regardless, the tale caught hold and held on tightly. And, in 1887, Momotarō cemented his fuzzy little legacy when the story was included in elementary school textbooks all over Japan.
Small children all throughout the country grew up hearing the story, and it became a cultural touchpoint for the Japanese.
With time, Momotarō, the hero who steps forward to protect and save his country, started popping up as a symbol of national power. During the First Sino-Japanese War, he was portrayed as a soldier in the Japanese Imperial army— bravely fighting for his people. Cartoons were drawn during the Russian-Japanese war that was fought in 1904 and 1905 that depicted the Peach Boy defending Japan, and he gained even more popularity during World War 2, when he was featured in wartime films. Japan, symbolized by Momotarō, fearlessly and valiantly stood up to the blood-thirsty ogres and the demon king, characters who, in this case, represented the allied forces and the United States.
In Japan today, Momotarō is still well-known. Most Japanese children know his story, and many sing his song.
“Momotarō’s Song” was first published in 1911, and it’s been popular ever since. Translated, the lyrics go a little some like this:
Momotarō, Momotarō
Those millet dumplings on your waist
Won’t you give me one?
I’ll give you one, I’ll give you one
If you’ll come with me on a quest to conquer the oni
I’ll give you one
I like that this song is sort of an invitation to the children singing to come and join Momotarō’s makeshift army, teaming up with the dog and monkey and pheasant to go and hunt the ogres. I can just picture a band of children picking up sticks and stones and playing pretend— running off to fight the bloodthirsty giants.
I didn’t grow up with this song and I don’t know the tune, so I can’t sing it for you. Not that you’d want me to, anyway… I’m not much of a singer. But I found a recording I’d like to play to close out the show. This was recorded by Kaihsu Tai in 2016. Here’s “Momotarō-san no Uta.”
[song recording]
****
Thank you so much for listening to this episode of Fab Figmentals.
Research, writing, and sound editing are done by me, Lindsey Morse. Our theme music was created by Graeme Ronald. If you’d like to hear the Momotarō song again, you’ll find a link to the recording in our show notes.
New episodes drop every other Wednesday. Make sure to subscribe to the show to get new episodes as soon as they’re available.
If you like Fab Figmentals, please tell a friend. Word of mouth is really the best way to support the show and help it grow. If you know someone who’d enjoy our quirky blend of history and storytelling, please spread the word.
Do you have a suggestion for a future episode? Or maybe just want to reach out and say hi? You can get in touch with me via our website, FabFigmentals.com, or on Twitter @figmentals. I’d love to hear from you.
As promised, next time we’ll be looking at Somnolites, humans who’ve been hypnotized or mesmerized out of their free will and into a deep trance. While not as outwardly threatening as dragons or demons, I find this one deeply chilling. There’s something about the idea of losing my own autonomy and being under another’s abject control that I find just plain unnerving.
We’ll see you next time.