Karasumori Shrine 烏森神社 (plain, wooden torii)

This is one of the most exiting places I've stumbled across in a while.

 

 

The area called 新橋 Shinbashi today refers to the area around present day 新橋駅 Shinbashi Station. In the Edo Period, this area was referred to as 烏森 Karasumori, literally “Crow Forest.” The name change to Shinbashi, literally “New Bridge,” was the result of the re-location of the services of the former 新橋停車場 Shinbashi Depot (originally located in present day Shiodome) to the current site in 1909. The new station took the name 烏森駅 Karasumori Station in 1909. In 1914, the old depot was shut down and Karasumori Station was renamed Shinbashi Station. However, one of the main exits is still called Karasumori.

 

 

But where did this name, Crow Forest, come from? There’s a lot of legend behind this, but in 935, a high ranking Kantō samurai of imperial descent named 平将門Taira no Masakado began agitating against the court nobility in Kyōto. His actions culminated in all out rebellion in 939 and he was eventually killed in battle in 940. His most famous legend is that his head was brought to Kyōto to be displayed along with a list of his treasonous crimes. But being a Kantō warrior, his head become enraged and flew back to Kantō and (according to the most popular story) still rests in the haunted 首塚 head mound in 大手町 Ōtemachi, literally the front door of 江戸城 Edo Castle. (Many say his spirit still haunts the area to this day.)

 

 

Anyhoo, the forces that put down Masakado’s rebellion were led by平貞盛 Taira no Sadamori and 藤原秀郷 Fujiwara no Hidesato. Legend says that before the final attack against Masakado, Hidesato prayed for victory at an unnamed 稲荷神社 Inari shrine (tutelary kami of provincial governors and eventually of 大名 daimyo, feudal lords) in 武蔵国 Musashi Province. Inari is usually depicted as a fox.

 

 

After praying for victory, a white fox came to Hidesato’s camp and gave him some magical arrows with white feathers – as foxes are known to do from time to time. Hidesato took the magical arrows and reigned hell down upon the Masakado’s rebel forces – as people with magic arrows are known to do from time to time. In the end, he routed the rebels, took Masakado’s head, and sent it to Kyōto for the imperial court to see as evidence of his victory.

 

 

Wanting to pay homage to the white fox, clearly an incarnation of an Inari kami, he set out to establish a shrine but he wasn’t sure what place would please Inari. One night, while he slept, the white fox came to him in a dream and explained the place where many birds gather is always sacred (this may be a folk tale referencing Shintō terminology, as every shrine is marked by a gate called a 鳥居 torii “birds are here”). The shrine was called 烏森稲荷神社 Karasumori Inari Shrine.

 

 

There is actually some confusion as to where the shrine Hidesato established was, but the shrine in Shinbashi contends that the original location was in 桜田村 Sakurada Village near where the infamous 桜田門 Sakuradamon gate is has been located since the Edo Period. According to that theory, at some point, most likely when castle building efforts really got going, the shrine was relocated to the present day location. Some say that the shrine has always been at its present location and that Sakurada Village comprised a much bigger area in the pre-Tokugawa years. I believe there may be a little truth in both stories.

 

 

Japanese religion has always been syncretic (blended) and a shrine with close ties to a victorious samurai would have inevitably taken a Buddhist stance during the Edo Period when Buddhism was seen – particularly in Eastern Japan – as being more “samurai” and less “imperial court.” In the Edo Period, the shrine buildings took on a typical 権現造り Gongen-zukuri style typical of syncretic Shintō-Buddhism of the day. However, in 1873, in one of its first moves to establish State Shintō, the Meiji Government concocted the 神仏分離 Separation of Shintō & Buddhism Edict. By this law, syncretic religious institutions were required by law to pick a side – you’re either Buddhist or you’re Shintō. No fence-sitting allowed, bitches.

 

 

I don’t know why. since 稲荷 Inari is a Shintō kami, but it’s at this time that the shrine changed its name from 烏森稲荷神社 Karasumi Inari Shrine to 烏森神社 Karasumi Shrine. When I visited, I didn’t see any imagery typical of an Inari shrine within the precinct. So it’s clearly not an Inari shrine anymore. That said, the shrine also doesn’t exhibit any traits of a Gongen-zukuri site (presumably, these didn’t survive the Great Kantō Earthquake or the Firebombing of WWII). The modern structure is concrete and uniquely illuminated. Most shrines are covered by trees and afforded some natural space, but this one is surrounded by office buildings and family-owned restaurants. The sacred space is marked by the shadows of high rise buildings, a rare wooden torii, and a maze of alleys that make the shrine an urban oasis, well off the beaten path and yet hiding in plain sight.

 

 

The shrine is not obvious. And even though it’s hidden in a maze of alleys, its precincts are still fairly large and apparently well-funded. They illuminate the area year round and supposedly have a special Christmas illumination (there’s some syncretism for ya!). They also have a somewhat famous 夏祭り Summer Festival. The side streets and alleys that surround the shrine are populated by traditional Shōwa Era restaurants that seat anywhere from 8-20 customers max. The prices seem to be reasonable and the owners have been passing the shop down through the family. It’s decidedly 下町 “low city” despite its 山手 “high city” history in the Edo Period. In short, this is Salaryman Central. The immediate area surrounding the shrine is frequented by locals and old people and foodies and is in direct contrast with the drinking and whoring that typifies the main thoroughfares in Shinbashi.

 

 

This shrine and this area are highly recommended.

 

 

 

Done