In the ancient capital of Heian-kyō, where the imperial palace stood as a testament to the grandeur of the era, there lived a lazy fisherman. One fateful evening, as the sun's golden rays faded behind the horizon, casting the world in twilight's glow, the fisherman's thoughts turned to the resplendent Imperial Koi Ponds, known far and wide for their abundance of sacred koi fish.
As the man contemplated the riches that awaited him beneath the tranquil waters of the Imperial Ponds, his wife warned him of the peril that lay ahead. "The ponds are sacred," she cautioned, her voice tinged with an ancestral reverence. "You cannot fish there. They border the realm of the sleeping dead, a place where the living should not intrude." Unmoved by his wife's wisdom, he dismissed her words with a nonchalant wave of his hand and headed out the door.
As he walked towards the ponds, he came across another fisherman who waved a greeting. His face turned solemn when he heard of the lazy fisherman's plans. "It is bad luck to tresspass on sacred land, and even worse to take koi from the Emperor's pond. Fishing there is a grave mistake," he warned. The lazy fisherman brushed off the man's concerns, convinced that his quest for the Imperial koi was just, and they parted ways.
Upon reaching the Imperial Koi Ponds, the lazy fisherman cast his net into the waters. The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a tranquil glow upon the scene. Yet, this tranquility was soon shattered by the unhappy cries of a maiden who appeared from the darkness. With long, flowing hair that shimmered in the moonlight and a voice as gentle as a sigh, the maiden implored the man to cease his fishing, to preserve the sanctity of the sacred waters. The man remained resolute. Ignoring her pleas, he resumed his fishing with an air of arrogance.
It was then that the maiden, her eyes shining with a wicked glint, slowly used her hand to wipe her own face off. The fisherman watched in horror as she erased her own features, leaving behind a grotesque, featureless expanse like an eggshell. Panicked and trembling, he abandoned his fishing gear and fled from the Imperial Ponds, the maiden's featureless gaze haunting him with every step.
Reaching his home once more, the fisherman slammed and bolted the door behind him. As he hurridly began to recount the tale to his wife, she interrupted him. "You have transgressed against the sacred," she said, as she turned around to show him a face with neither eyes, nose, nor mouth. The startled fisherman fainted at the sight.
Congratulations, fellow language learners, on meeting the focus of the next yōkai in our Japanese Folklore series - the haunting Noppera-bō! The name "Noppera-bō" (のっぺらぼう) literally translates to "faceless ghost" in Japanese, and is an apt description of these otherwise humanoid cratures. They are occasionally confused with Mujina, shapeshifting tanuki-like mammals who can also assume a faceless, human appearance, but Noppera-bō are distinct shapeshifting yōkai in their own right. The above legend, as well as others like it, have been recounted through generations in Japan. Although the Noppera-bō never harm their victims beyond scaring them sightless (pun intended), they almost always start out as people the victim would ordinarily trust who then reveal their terrifying true form. This is often the case with Japanese legends of yōkai, with the focus being more on a lingering creepiness than on horror.
This folktale raises intriguing questions about its cultural significance. Some have suggested that the unsettling appearance and mysterious nature of the Noppera-bō reflects a fear of the unknown, or being disconnected from people we love, their emotions hidden behind a blank facade. Others suggest it mirrors paranoia against strangers and fear of the impermanence of identity in a rapidly changing world; a fear that might have been hightened by the rising tensions between Japan and China during the Heian period. That said, it might also have just acted as a warning to keep lazy fishermen away from the emperor's prized koi!
The Noppera-bō has not remained confined to the annals of history though. It continues to captivate the Japanese imagination and has made appearances in contemporary pop culture, featuring in literature, films, video games, and manga. There have even been reported sightings of Noppera-bō in modern times, the most famous of these sightings taking place in Hawaii in 1959, where a Waialae drive-in theater restroom became the epicentre of someone's own haunting Noppera-bō encounter. The witness claimed to see a woman combing her red hair, but, upon approaching the Noppera-bō, the creature turned to reveal a blank face with no features. The witness was reported to have been admitted to the hospital after suffering a nervous breakdown.
Whether fact or fiction, we cherish the tales of the Noppera-bō and other yōkai, for they are not mere ghost stories but windows into the depths of Japanese history and imagination. As we continue our language studies, lets continue to nurture our appreciation for the cultural treasures that make Japan a land of both mystery and wonder. Until our next folktale, remember, in the world of yōkai, mysteries abound and there is always more to uncover.
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