Between The Back and The Front Male Love PDF
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Preface
The Department of East Asian Studies at the University of Vienna has for decades
been a remarkably diverse and active academic community. About 1,500 under-
graduate and graduate students are currently enrolled in full-time programs in Chi-
nese, Japanese and Korean Studies and in East Asian Economy and Society. In order
to graduate from one of our MA programs, an extensive thesis must be written that
usually involves many months of hard work, sometimes even more. Primary and
secondary sources in East Asian languages are studied and analyzed, interviews and
surveys are conducted, and new social and cultural phenomena are discovered.
Despite the often high quality of these studies, not all of them reach a wider au-
dience. Many of our graduates enter a non-academic profession and get immersed in
the time consuming activities of their new lives. Others pursue an academic career
but change their areas of interest and focus on a new field. As a consequence, many
detailed, original and valuable studies never get published. This was the main moti-
vation to start this publication, the Vienna Graduate Journal of East Asian Studies.
An idea born in 2007, it took three years and many discussions to arrive where we
are today. The four editors cooperating in this endeavor Rudiger Frank, Ingrid
Getreuer-Kargl, Lukas Pokorny and Agnes Schick-Chen represent the various
disciplines present at our institute. We want to give our graduates a chance to show
their results to a wider audience. Even more importantly, we want to provide their
peers and the international academic community with access to the work of our
young and hopeful researchers. Taken together, this volume alone presents years of
meticulous labor. Much more has been done in the past, and will be produced in the
future.
The Journal also shows the diversity of research topics covered in East Asian
Studies at the University of Vienna. Literature, society, culture, economy all these
fields are represented in our approach to East Asia. The authors have been strongly
supported by their respective supervisors. For this issue, the authors and editors
thank Ingrid Getreuer-Kargl, Sepp Linhart, Richard Trappl and Susanne Weigelin-
Schwiedrzik for the many hours and all the energy, experience and wisdom they
have invested to make the theses a success and to develop the academic profiles and
capabilities of the writers. We also thank the authors of this volume for their
readiness to turn their theses into academic articles a task that, as we all know,
represents a formidable challenge regarding language and the need to compress. My
team at the Chair of East Asian Economy and Society, and in particular Ms. Karin
Frühwirth, has done an excellent job in text editing and communication with the
publishing house, the Praesens Verlag in Vienna. Susan Pares has once more greatly
helped us with the language editing. The University of Vienna through the Chair of
East Asian Economy and Society has provided the necessary funding and
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administrative resources. Last but not least, Dr. Lukas Pokorny deserves credit for
having acted as the project leader for this issue of the Journal. In many ways, it is
thanks to his persistent effort that this volume has been finalized.
This new Journal has a sister publication a book series in which we publish ex-
cellent PhD theses produced at our Department. Taken together, these outlets repre-
sent the enormous wealth of knowledge and insights produced by our graduates.
They are a source of pride for our Department. We hope that the Journal and the
book series will also serve in the traditional academic sense as means of communi-
cation within the academic community. Not least, may they also be a source of in-
spiration for those who will soon become our next graduates.
In the name of all editors, it is my pleasure and honor to present this new publi-
cation to our readers, hoping that it will be well received and that many issues will
follow.
Vienna, Dec. 2010
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Rudiger F rank
Professor of East Asian Economy and Society, University of Vienna
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Angelika Koch
A bstract
The present article explores representations of male-male sexuality and eroticism in humorous
tales of the Edo period. The point of departure for the discussion is the metaphor of 'back' and
'front' , which delineated the sexual options available to a grown-up man, na mely anal sex with
males and vaginal sex with female partners. A brief preliminary overview of the custom of male
love (nanshoku), which forms the unifying theme of the tales under discussion, is provided. After
an introduction to the genre of Edo-period humorous tales ( or kobanashi), the article cen-
tres on the depiction of male-male intercourse and eroticism in this type of literature, and argues
that certain discrepancies, relevant from a gender perspective, become discernible in the respec-
tive representations of the two partners of a nanshoku relationship. It is shown how the metaphor
of 'back' and 'front' is grounded in sexual practice, how it functioned and how it is employed for
the achievement of a comic effect in the tales. The article then goes on to address the question of
the extent to which male sexuality can be said to move 'between the back and the front' , and some
thoughts on gender and desire in the Edo period are offered.
K eywords: male homosexuality, nanshoku, humorous tales, kobanashi
Koch, Angelika. Between the Back and the Front: Male Love in Humorous Tales
Vienna Graduate Journal of East Asian Studies, Volume 1,
eds. Rudiger Frank, Ingrid Getreuer-Kargl, Lukas Pokorny and Agnes Schick-
Chen. Vienna: Praesens Verlag, 2011, pp. 1-32
# #
2 Vienna Graduate Journal of East Asian Studies
Introduction
One humorous tale of the Edo period tells of an unsuccessful male prostitute (yarō
野郎) and an equally luckless woman of the pleasure quarters. The story relates how
both pray to Kannon to make them more popular with customers. To this purpose
they visit the temple on seven consecutive days, and in the case of the woman her
request is granted by the deity at the end of this period. The male prostitute on the
other hand does not rise one notch in the customers’ favour after this week of wor-
ship at the temple. He therefore feels resentment towards Kannon, and that he is
being treated unfairly, considering the good fortune that has befallen his female
counterpart. He complains bitterly that the wish of the woman has been granted,
whereas his own prayer has apparently fallen on deaf ears with the deity. Upon this,
Kannon appears in front of the yarō and deflects the prostitute’s criticism with the
words: ‘You cannot switch your front for your back’ (original in Miyao 2006: 212,
translation in Levy 1973: 193).
‘Back’ and ‘front’ were, as will be discussed in some detail in this article, mean-
ingful metaphors closely connected to the floating world of the pleasure quarters,
tropes which revolved around services offered in the demi-monde and other phe-
nomena linked to this milieu. The humorous aspect of the tale, as such completely
cryptic to the modern Western reader, would have hit the target with a Tokugawa-
period connoisseur of the pleasure quarters at once – and would probably have
wrung a smile from his lips. The point of the tale at hand rests on a double entendre:
on the one hand, in everyday parlance ‘not being able to switch your front for your
back’ was a proverb signifying that one had to give something up in order to get
something else in return, and was roughly equivalent in meaning to the English
phrase, ‘you cannot have your cake and eat it.’ On one level the deity therefore reins
in the yarō and shows him his place as a mortal human who should practice defer-
ence, being dependent for the fulfillment of his wishes on the benevolence of the
gods.
In an erotically charged context, however, which is inevitably conjured up in the
story by figures like the yarō and the female prostitute, this admonition voiced by
the deity becomes fraught with sexual innuendo and comprises an additional layer of
meaning. In this connection, the ‘back’ stood for the side that earned the male prosti-
tute his living with male customers;; the ‘front’ on the other hand was the side of a
female prostitute that harboured her sexual attractions. ‘Back’ and ‘front’ therefore
came to connote male and female sex partners (as seen from the viewpoint of a male
subject), or in a wider sense the sexual act with a male or female partner. What Kan-
non thus tells the yarō on a second level of meaning is essentially that he cannot
have his cake and eat it sexually either. The yarō makes his living with his ‘back’,
and he will never be able to earn money with his ‘front’ like the female prostitute, a
feat as impossible as the fulfillment of his wish. The female prostitute got what she
Angelika Koch: Between the Back and the Front: 3
Male Love in Humorous Tales of the Edo Period
had prayed for and he simply did not. The preference shown to the woman seems a
divine whim – without which the pun at the end would not work, as should be noted.
As long as the yarō cannot simply turn into a female prostitute by ‘switching sides’,
this discriminatory state of affairs cannot be redressed and that is the end of it, as the
deity’s statement implies. Not only does Kannon thus show the male prostitute his
place as a mere mortal, but at the same time he also silently allots him a position in a
gendered matrix laid out by the dichotomy of ‘back’ and ‘front’ – a position which
in this case spells trouble for the yarō and renders the fulfillment of his wish impos-
sible.
The present discussion proposes to explore representations of male same-sex
love in humorous tales (shōwa 笑話) of the Edo period, which means that it is more
concerned with the ‘back’ than with the ‘front’, if one wishes to continue the meta-
phor here. This dichotomy, so fateful for the yarō in the above tale, will guide the
reader through the article as a red thread, as is already suggested in the title. After a
brief overview of the genre of humorous tales, this thread will wind through an ex-
ploration of male-male sexuality and eroticism, which forms the background for the
metaphor, before it is finally unravelled. It will be shown how this trope functions,
how it is used for the achievement of a comic effect in the tales – and most impor-
tantly, why it is appropriate to speak of the sex-gender system of the Edo period as
‘between the back and the front’. In its outlook the article largely confines itself to
the more erotic aspects of male love, since ‘back’ and ‘front’ as concepts belong to
the realm of the sensual and sexual. This should, however, not give rise to the im-
pression that male love was exclusively or even principally perceived of in terms of
carnal pleasures; quite the contrary, as the essay Inu tsurezure 犬つれづれ points
out, claiming that in the course of one or two years ‘it’ could happen once or maybe
twice – and sometimes not at all (quoted in Pflugfelder 1999: 43). These other facets
of male-male relationships lie, however, outside the scope of the present article.1
Male love, termed nanshoku 男色 or shudō 衆道, the ‘way of loving youths’, in
Japanese,2 generally designated a relationship between the so-called nenja 念者, an
adult man understood to have undergone the coming-of-age ceremony (genbuku 元
服), and a youth or wakashu 若衆. Nanshoku thus denoted a bond between males
that would nowadays fall under the label of ‘male homosexuality’ – a translation
that, however, holds some pitfalls, as Gregory Pflugfelder has already pointed out
(Pflugfelder 1999: 23-25), and which will therefore be avoided in the present article.
One major objection to this anachronistic rendering of the term is that in contrast to
the Western concept of homosexuality, which is understood to be a digression from
the prevalent heterosexual norm and one forced into what Judith Butler has called a
1 For a discussion of other, non-erotic aspects of male-male relationships in the genre of humorous tales see
Koch 2008, especially pp. 60-102.
2 Pflugfelder gives a detailed definition and etymology of these two terms; see Pflugfelder 1999: 24-27.
4 Vienna Graduate Journal of East Asian Studies
Buddhist temples, nor did females have a very high standing in Buddhist thought,
which tended to regard women as morally inferior and intrinsically bad. Priests were
strictly forbidden any sexual contact with the other sex, a crime for which severe
punishment awaited them if caught (Faure 1998: 180-181),7 but ‘since their hearts
were, after all, made of neither wood nor stone’, as Kitamura Kigin 北村季吟 wrote
in sympathy with their situation (quoted in Schalow 1993: 10), it was only logical
according to him that they should turn to their acolytes (chigo 稚児) instead, which
was considered a somehow lesser evil. Boys who were sent to the temple by their
parents to receive an education or take Buddhist vows therefore became a target for
the advances of their older brethren.
Male love was, however, not only a prized commodity in the pleasure quarters
and the passion of the clergy, it was also the ‘flower of the samurai’ (bumon no hana
武門の華), as Nanshoku yamaji no tsuyu 男色山路露 puts it (Nankai no Sanjin
1988-89: 46). Among the warrior class a tradition of same-sex love developed from
medieval times onwards, running parallel to the custom of male love in Buddhist
temples. The male love of the samurai was, at least in popular depictions of the Edo
period, steeped in the strict warrior code of honour (bushidō 武士道), the core of
which was formed by the central notion of giri 義理, the obligations imposed on the
warrior by his honour. Giri was owed by the warrior to his lord and his comrades. A
woman was not considered capable of such noble feelings, which is why a relation-
ship with her could never reach the same depths as the brotherly connection between
a samurai and his comrades. In an ideology that glorified the (per definition male)
warrior and his loyalty towards lord and comrades, there was not much space left for
women. On the contrary, the latter were regarded a bad influence on the warrior
spirit, since they kept a man from courageously laying down his life for his lord, or
deprived him of the strength he needed in battle by exhausting his manly powers in
the bedroom at home (Ujiie 1996: 116). The male love of the samurai was thus, as in
the case of the Buddhist clergy, nurtured by a misogynous ideological basis and
fuelled further by the glorification of masculinity in the bushidō.
Humorous tales of the Edo period, which are a mirror of popular ideas of their
times, make liberal use of this inventory of characters and constantly play on their
widespread associations with male love. Since the stories were rather short, as is
illustrated by the example quoted at the beginning of this article, reference points for
readers were scarce in the texts and explanations virtually non-existent, which is
why a relatively high degree of cultural knowledge was required to understand these
7 The Jōdo sect formed an exception here and traditionally tolerated women. It should be noted that in the
literature of the time the Buddhist clergy were often depicted as not averse to the attractions of the female
sex. Monks, in disguise so as to escape punishment, were known to frequent the courtesan quarters, and in
some humorous tales the ban on women also does not keep priests from devising ways of smuggling fe-
males into the temple (see for instance Mutō, ed. 2004, vol.2: 359-360).
6 Vienna Graduate Journal of East Asian Studies
So far all that has been pointed out about humorous tales is firstly their relative
shortness and secondly the difficulties they hold in store for modern readers, but
what were these stories like? What sort of genre will this article be dealing with?8
The introduction to one of the oldest, and at the same time also the longest collection
of humorous tales with over a thousand stories, Seisuishō 醒睡笑 (1623), by Anra-
kuan Sakuden 安楽庵策傳, gives a first glimpse of what is to be expected:
Ever since I was a young novice I have written down stories I heard and found interesting
or funny on random scraps of paper. Today I am 70 years old and lead a secluded life in
the north-western part of the Seigan temple. I am called Anrakuan, he of the hermitage of
peace and happiness. In this way I live peacefully every day in my hut with the brushwood
door, and when I read again what I once noted down, the sleepiness passes and I cannot
help laughing. (My translation; original in Anrakuan 2004: 3)
In this quote, Anrakuan clearly underlines the entertainment value of the stories,
which are capable of banishing sleep and, more than that, can even provoke loud
laughter, as he remarks. The principal aim of the genre is thus easily discovered: the
amusement of the reader. Shōwa can accordingly be defined as short tales, simple in
structure and language, that aim to entertain the reader with mainly humorous con-
tents. For this purpose, various aesthetic means such as poems, puns or homophones
are employed in order to create a comic or witty effect (Haußer 2001: 75-83). In
fact, some of the names applied to the tales, which were alternatively called hanashi
話/噺/咄 (‘stories’), karukuchi-banashi 軽口話 (‘humorous stories’), kobanashi 小
話/小咄/小噺 (‘little stories’) or otoshi-banashi 落し噺/落し咄 (‘stories with a
punch line’) allude to their humorous function. The same is true for the general term
shōwa, ‘laughing stories’, which will be the preferred term to refer to this kind of
humorous tales in the present article.
8 For a more detailed investigation of the genre see Haußer 2001, also Mutō 1984 and the explanatory notes
in Mutō 2004. Translations of selected tales into English can be found in Levy 1973 and Schalow 1996.
Angelika Koch: Between the Back and the Front: 7
Male Love in Humorous Tales of the Edo Period
9 For details of this type of humorous tales see Miyao’s article in Miyao 2006: 468-479, whence the follow-
ing information on erotic shōwa is taken. It should be noted that the term enshō-shōwa was not in use in the
Edo period, but was introduced by literary scholars at a later date.
8 Vienna Graduate Journal of East Asian Studies
humour enjoyed enormous popularity in the literature of the time, exemplified for
instance by the kōshoku-bon 好色本 of Ihara Saikaku 井原西鶴, such as Kōshoku
ichidai otoko 好色一代男 (1682) and a host of other ukiyo-zōshi 浮世草子.
The hanashibon were by no means exempt from this trend, and from the earliest
collections onwards, such as the above-mentioned Seisuishō or the Kinō wa kyō no
monogatari 昨日は今日の物語 (ca. 1615-30), erotic humour was a stock theme in
the stories. Some hanashibon of the 17th century even collected indecent tales in a
separate volume (kan 巻) at the end of the book, which gave rise to the impression
that this was more or less a supplementary volume or an appendix to the ‘real book’.
The reason for this is explained by the author of one of these hanashibon, the Karu-
kuchi ōwarai 軽口大わらひ (1680):
Concerning the circumstances in which I have entitled this volume ‘with reserve’ [enryo],
the following has to be said: Since I have collected in this section things which are inde-
cent [sashiai], this title serves the purpose of informing the reader of this. This is not
something to be read in broad daylight. (My translation; original in Miyao 2006: 471)
As becomes clear from the quote, the point of gathering all tales with erotic contents
in a single volume was to be able to put it aside, because the stories included were
not suitable for perusal ‘in broad daylight’, i.e. in front of other people, but were
rather meant for some private nook, where others could not possibly take offence.
It was common to entitle these separate volumes ‘enryo’ or ‘sashiai’, in order to
warn the reader that something indecent and objectionable (sashiai 差し合い) was
to follow and that he should if necessary treat this section with reserve (enryo 遠慮).
Being similar in function to an ‘R-rated’ label on video films nowadays, these terms
drew the attention of the reader to the fact that ‘the following material was not suit-
able for persons under 18 years of age’;; in other words was not for tender-hearted
minds. Sashiai was originally used in the context of renga 連歌 and haikai 俳諧
poetry, where it referred to a rule stating that similar words could not be used in
direct proximity to each other. In a figurative sense it therefore acquired the meaning
of something uncultivated or inelegant – of something not corresponding to good
taste, just like a badly composed poem. Thus, the reader was conscious of the fact
that he would be confronted with something that was not wholly in tune with good
mores, whenever he came across a title of this sort in a hanashibon. That this was by
no means a rare experience for a reader of this genre can be judged by the fact that
Tsuyu no Gorobē 露の五郎兵衛 apparently deemed it necessary to emphasise the
immaculate propriety of his own collection of stories by adding the note ‘sashiai
nashi’, ‘no indecent stories’, to the title page of Karukuchi gozen otkoko 軽口御前
男 (1703).
From the An’ei era (1772-81) onwards, when the genre of shōwa as a whole
reached its pinnacle of vitality and humorous tales became the fashion in Edo, as
Angelika Koch: Between the Back and the Front: 9
Male Love in Humorous Tales of the Edo Period
was briefly pointed out above, single-volume collections began to appear that spe-
cialised solely in erotic stories. The colourful titles of these works often left no
doubt about their explicit contents, such as Sashi makura さしまくら (1773), Karu-
kuchi bobo dangi 軽口開談義 (1775), Mame darake 豆だらけ(1775) or Mame
dango 豆談語 (1777), all of which refer in some way to the bedroom and its me-
chanics, mame and bobo being slang words for the pubic parts of a woman. These
books were not regular publications, but were printed in small numbers and sold to
amateurs of erotic literature, which is why only relatively few of these collections
survive today. The tales in these works were usually accompanied by fairly explicit
illustrations meant to encourage the reader to read and look further. Contrary to
shunga 春画 prints of the day these erotic depictions were in black and white, and
by comparison also less detailed.
In these erotic shōwa two different types of relationships were generally repre-
sented: on the one hand those between man and woman, for instance in the shape of
husband and wife, husband and servant girl, man and female prostitute or wife and
lover; on the other hand those between two members of the male sex. Just like male-
female relationships, the depictions of male-male love affairs also came in various
constellations and were mainly depicted as taking place between monk and chigo,
samurai and wakashu, or customer and male prostitute, since these were the social
groups most intimately linked to nanshoku practices in the popular mind of the Edo
period, as has been pointed out in the previous section. It is this kind of relationships
between males that will be the focus of the present discussion, which will now turn
to the often explicit contents of the tales themselves and explore the workings of the
‘back’ and the ‘front’.
Since this article proposes to deal with the erotic domain of male-male relationships,
the following sections are figuratively speaking going to throw open the paper
screens of the bedroom and investigate the sexuality of our unequal couple, which
generally consisted of an adult man and a youth. What was an intimate tête-à-tête
between a nenja and a wakashu like? What aroused a man’s sexual interest? What,
on the other hand, was considered a passion- killer? And what was the preferred way
of doing ‘it’, anyway? All these spicy details will be revealed in the sections to
come, which is why it would be appropriate, if one were to adopt the Edo custom of
warning readers in advance of explicit contents, to print ‘sashiai’ in big bold letters
over the following and to recommend people to abstain from reading it in a too pub-
lic place. However, in order to get to the bottom of the metaphor of ‘back’ and
‘front’ and the sex-gender system it represents, it is necessary to look into sexual
mores prevalent at the time.
10 Vienna Graduate Journal of East Asian Studies
In the Edo period, the preferred sexual technique between partners of the male
sex was anal penetration, a theme that has already been discussed in detail in au-
thoritative works on the topic (Pflugfelder 1999: 41-42, Leupp 1995: 109). This state
of affairs is also evident in the shōwa, which depict mainly this form of sexual inter-
course. One example of a tale could be found where interfemural sex (sumata 素股)
is mentioned (cf. Miyao 2006: 104), a sexual practice consisting in the insertion of
the male member between the thighs of his partner. This technique, however, con-
jures up a context lacking in cultivation in this particular tale, since the story centres
on an ‘uncouth’ man who virtually rapes a youth. In fact, a fairly negative attitude
towards this type of intercourse seems to have prevailed in general in the Edo pe-
riod, as Pflugfelder and Leupp, relying on other literary sources, have pointed out
(Pflugfelder 1999: 41, Leupp 1995: 109). Sumata was thus relegated to the position
of a sexual option in practice feasible, but which in the discourse on shudō was con-
sidered as marginal. In consequence, the range of sexual techniques commonly prac-
tised in nanshoku relationships did not allow for a lot of variation and was in es-
sence limited to anal sex.
These restrictive boundaries of permissible sexual acts are playfully extended by
the following humorous tale, which depicts other, socially unsanctioned forms of
sexual gratification:
A page in a samurai household had an intimate relationship with another employee of this
household, whose name was Kumon. One day Kumon was on watchman’s duty. He felt
lonely and when he secretly peeped through an opening in the paper sliding doors into the
next room, he saw the page he had become intimate with there, all alone. The nenja
thought, ‘Luckily I am on my own here, too, and if everything goes well, I shall kiss him.’
He put saliva on the paper sliding door and made a hole in it with his finger. Secretly he
called to the wakashu, ‘No one is here. Get it out.’ ‘Yes!’ replied the wakashu and thought
this could only mean one thing. At once he bared his buttocks and put them against the
hole. The nenja, intending to kiss him, sucked at the backside fondly. Both partners were
startled and as the wakashu quickly put his mouth to the hole, the nenja got out his thing,
and soon the wakashu had his mouth full. (My translation; original in Miyao 2006: 95)
This shōwa transgresses sexual norms with the aim of creating a humorous effect. A
misunderstanding between the partners gives rise to sexual constellations usually not
represented in the discourse on male love and accounts for the entertainment value
of the tale. The page thinks his partner expects to have intercourse and therefore puts
his bare buttocks to the opening, thereby silently complying with the prevailing
sexual standard of anal penetration between men. 10 His intimate friend, however,
merely wishes to kiss his partner, another form of intimacy accepted by the canon of
10 This rather uncommon position, which involves penetration through a hole in the paper sliding doors, is
also depicted in Koi no mutsugoto shijū-hatte 恋の睦言四十八手 (1679), by Hishikawa Moronobu 菱川師
宣, under the title ‘through the paper sliding doors’ (shōji-goshi 障子越) (Screech 1999: 196).
Angelika Koch: Between the Back and the Front: 11
Male Love in Humorous Tales of the Edo Period
male love (Pflugfelder 1999: 41). There is no intention on the part of the characters
to undermine the established norms, on the contrary, both behave in accordance with
the rules of sexual interaction; the breach of accepted standards is brought about by
a miscommunication. This leads to a mismatch in the conventional combinations of
mouth-mouth in kissing and penis-buttocks in anal sex, whereby other, uncommon
forms of sexual stimulation are created involuntarily, in this case anilingus and fella-
tio (Pflugfelder 1999: 42).
Even though the tale in question thus suspends sexual norms in order to get
laughs from the reader, who naturally tended to be amused by novelties and curiosi-
ties, this does not change the fact that anal sex was the rule. Anal sex involved the
penetration of the anal opening of one partner by the penis of the other partner,
which implies that basically both partners could assume the role of inserter as well
as insertee, since both were physically equipped for either part. However, sexual
roles in a nanshoku relationship tended to be fixed, the wakashu invariably being
allotted the passive function of insertee (Leupp 1995: 109, Pflugfelder 1999: 41).
How these respective roles were constructed in the shōwa is exemplified by the
following tale:
A customer, who was new in Yoshichō, went to bed [with a wakashu], and when his sex-
ual excitement was heightening, he said, ‘I am coming now. How about you? I am coming,
I am coming!’ To this the wakashu replied, ‘He is gone, he is gone, lalala.’ (My transla-
tion;; original in Mutō 2004/2: 176)
Set in Yoshichō, a part of Edo famous for its kagema teahouses, this tale revolves
around a sexual encounter between a new customer and a male prostitute. The role
of inserter is unequivocally depicted as pleasurable, a fact hardly to be overlooked,
since the customer in the shōwa reaches orgasm, as he lets his partner know in no
uncertain terms. The wakashu, for his part, notably does not respond with an expres-
sion of sexual ecstasy, but with a verse from a well-known popular song of the pe-
riod (Mutō 2004/2: 176). The point of the story is to be found in the juxtaposition of
the verb iku 行く (literally ‘to go’, and if referring to sexual acts equivalent to the
English expression ‘to come’), put into the mouth of the nenja to indicate that he is
approaching orgasm, with its opposite kuru 来る (literally ‘to come’), which was not
used in a sexual context.
If one leaves the entertaining aspect of the youth’s reply aside for the time being,
the one feature that strikes one about it is its passivity. The youth’s utterance does
not represent an expression of his own pleasurable sensations, but only a comment
on the sexually aroused state of his partner – and a rather distracted and indifferent
one as such. While the nenja is nearing orgasm, the prostitute seems to let his
thoughts wander off and hums a song. The pleasure the wakashu derived from sex-
ual interaction was apparently fairly limited and was certainly not considered an
integral element of the sexual act (Pflugfelder 1999: 41-42). On the contrary, the
12 Vienna Graduate Journal of East Asian Studies
role of insertee was often depicted as disagreeable, painful and plagued by health
problems such as, for instance, haemorrhoids:
When an acolyte first came into a temple, he suffered from a severe case of haemorrhoids.
Since the boy did not look healthy at all, the abbot called the monk responsible for this boy
and scolded him. ‘It is shameless to suck out a boy’s energy like this.’ To this the monk
replied, ‘May all the big and small Gods of Japan, particularly Sannō-daishi, the God of
Hie shrine, be my witnesses! I did not suck at him, I only tore him when I pulled my thing
out.’ (My translation;; original in Odaka 1970: 109)
As can be surmised from this tale, the sexual practices of male love were not always
very tender on the youth, who is even made to cry out with the pain of being pene-
trated in some tales. Lustful cries, on the other hand, being the acoustic expression
of sexual excitement, as well as the orgasm itself, were exclusively reserved for the
nenja in the shōwa – who, judging from his behaviour in the tales, apparently took
great pleasure in penetration. A reaction on the part of the wakashu, be it of a verbal
or other nature, was apparently not expected, and certainly not a pleasurable one.
Signs of sexual arousal in the youth were, on the contrary, depicted as rather un-
usual – when depicted at all:
‘I am not going to hurt you, so do as I say!’ Thus someone made a wakashu comply with
his wishes. He bared the youth’s buttocks, but since his glans did not glide in smoothly,
even though he had moistened his thing well, he thrust a little harder, and then his penis
slipped in easily. When he laid hand on the front side of the wakashu, the latter got an
erection. [Upon this, his lover cried out], ‘For Heaven’s sake, I have pierced him with my
thing!’ (My translation;; original in Miyao (ed.) 2006: 221)
Whereas the lustful cry was the acoustic token of arousal, an erection was its unmis-
takable optical proof. This is precisely what the latter is, however, and is not re-
ceived in a very pleased manner by the nenja in the tale. The older partner appar-
ently plays with the penis of the wakashu, who gets an erection as a result. However,
this reaction of sexual excitement seems so unexpected that the nenja thinks he has
pierced the wakashu, having thrust too hard. He seems to assume that the only erect
penis in sexual intercourse must invariably be his own, since the male member of the
youth had generally no business in male-male intercourse. The sexual pleasure of the
wakashu is thus indirectly represented as a singular case – and a rather unfortunate
one.
This tendency to marginalise the sexual lust of the younger partner can be de-
tected in other literary texts of the period as well. Pflugfelder has pointed out that in
the rare cases where the younger partner is permitted a pleasurable sensation in in-
tercourse, this is represented as unorthodox or eccentric. Kōshoku kinmōzui 好色訓
蒙図彙 (1686) for instance describes the erection of a youth as ‘bothersome’ (urusa-
shi) for the penetrating partner (Pflugfelder 1999: 42). Edo-period images showing
Angelika Koch: Between the Back and the Front: 13
Male Love in Humorous Tales of the Edo Period
the sexual act between man and youth corroborate this picture by representing the
wakashu as a rule with a penis that is not erect – even though one can find some
examples of ukiyo-e 浮世絵 depicting the older partner masturbating the youth (see
for instance Hayakawa 1998: 50, 52, 70).
The general impression conveyed is, however, that intercourse was mainly a treat
for the nenja. In ‘male-male’ intercourse ‘male’ apparently did not automatically
equal ‘male’. A clear hierarchy was discernible that granted the older partner the
sexual privilege of penetration, thus fixing nenja and wakashu in an active-passive
dichotomy. The nanshoku relationship appears sexually tailored to the needs of the
older partner, and the younger partner becomes merely the object assisting in the
satisfaction of the nenja. The youth’s sexual excitement was not considered an inte-
gral part of intercourse, on the contrary, it was branded as strange and eccentric.
Whereas the nenja moans, thrusts and comes, the wakashu remains silent, is being
‘torn’ in penetration or cries out with pain. The active role of the penetrating nenja is
always depicted as a gain in pleasure, while the penetrated wakashu is denied any
sexual gratification and is even made to suffer in some of the tales. The sexual act
can therefore be said to move between the lust of the nenja and the indifference, or
in the worst case the frustration, of the younger partner.
The youth’s best side: the backside and its metaphorical implications
The male member of the youth was thus eclipsed in the sexual act and did not play
any part. It was the anal opening, or by extension the part of the body adjacent to it,
namely the buttocks of the wakashu, that provided the nenja with sexual stimulation
and the metaphorical ‘back’ with its basis, as will be discussed in detail in this sec-
tion. Since the buttocks occupied so central a position in male-male intercourse, they
were the prime erotic attraction for adult males keen on the pleasures of the way of
boy-love:
A man bought Sanogawa Ichimatsu and amused himself with the actor. He thought to him-
self, ‘Well, no one can compare to Ichimatsu. However, this is to last only as long as I am
here, once I bid him farewell and head home, I will be left with nothing. I would like to get
a token reminding me of him before I leave.’ Thinking this, he applied black ink to Ichi-
matsu’s buttocks and made a print of them. He returned home and looked at this image
carefully. His wife noticed it and asked, ‘What is this?’ The husband replied, ‘This is
Ichimatsu.’ ‘What, it looks rather like a pattern of karamatsu [Japanese larch]. (My trans-
lation;; original in Mutō 2004/2: 173-174)
The customer buying the company of the kabuki actor Sanogawa Ichimatsu 佐野川
市松 for a night craves a souvenir reminding him of this brief and blissful encounter
with the young man. What could be a more suitable token to refresh his memory
14 Vienna Graduate Journal of East Asian Studies
after having parted with his idol than the latter’s buttocks, this principal bodily at-
traction of every youth? Thus the man makes a print of it in ink and walks away with
this prized picture of Ichimatsu’s backside. After his return home he contemplates it
for his personal aesthetic pleasure. His wife, however, misinterprets the reply of her
husband and takes ‘Ichimatsu’ to mean the Ichimatsu pattern, a check pattern actu-
ally named after the actor, who used this design in his clothing. She points out that
the print looks more like a pattern of karamatsu 唐松, which consisted of stylised
leaves of the Japanese larch, that in fact bore a certain resemblance to the shape of
buttocks (Mutō 2004/2: 174). In a humorous way Ichimatsu’s backside is thus
turned from a mere erotic body part into an object of aesthetic appreciation, as if it
were a real print.
The contemplation of the buttocks from afar, as a quasi-aesthetic object, is also
depicted in the following tale in a highly satiric manner:
According to Japanese folklore, water sprites (kappa 河童) had their mind set on
snatching the shirikodama 尻子玉, ‘ass jewels’ supposed to be hidden in the human
anus, from unsuspecting victims. This association of the mythical creatures with the
anus probably accounts for the popular belief of the Edo period that kappa were
fervent boy-lovers (Leupp 1996: 88). Hiraga Gennai’s 平賀源内 biting satire Ne-
nashigusa 根無草 (1763), created a few years before the tale quoted above, for in-
stance describes a love affair between such a water sprite, who has taken on human
form, and the popular kabuki actor Segawa Kikunojō II 瀬川菊之丞 (Hiraga 2002:
462-486). This conceptual link eventually became so strong that kappa apparently
even came to be used as an expression for a nanshoku enthusiast in the jargon of
boy-love (Hanasaki 2006: 51).
If the father and son pair of water sprites therefore admire the buttocks of the on-
nagata 女形 in this tale, this fascination is sparked by the liking for beautiful boys
popularly ascribed to them. The little water sprite, however, is not satisfied with
merely looking. In a situation probably familiar to many parents nowadays from the
supermarket, the little one attempts to touch the fascinating object, but is admon-
ished by his father, since this is still ‘for sale’. This infantile gesture and the paternal
rebuke encapsulate a thinly veiled satiric jab at the commercial milieu of nanshoku,
whose main commodity was ‘buttocks’, that is to say the sexual favours of youths,
Angelika Koch: Between the Back and the Front: 15
Male Love in Humorous Tales of the Edo Period
which were not available for free but had their – sometimes rather exorbitant – price.
The little boy-lover is therefore disappointed in his naive belief that he can simply
reach out for the desired object, which turns out to be out of bounds for him.
The buttocks of a wakashu were thus a highly eroticised body part that was de-
picted as an aesthetic attraction and as the place of sexual satisfaction for the older
partner. After all, the nenja, just like the little kappa in the tale quoted above, was
not satisfied merely with looking, but in the end also expected to touch, as has been
demonstrated in detail in the previous section on male-male intercourse. From a
physiological point of view, however, the anus also functioned as an excretory or-
gan. The tension thus established between the erotic-sexual aspect and the physio-
logical aspect of the anus is often exploited for humorous purposes in the shōwa,
which created laughs by freely moving between the two functions, as is the case in
the following tale:
A man had a wakashu bend over and inserted his thing all the way. As he was just in the
middle of using his hips and was sliding in and out smoothly, the wakashu asked, ‘Could
you pull it out briefly?’ ‘I am going to come, I cannot pull it out.’ ‘Please, I need to fart
and it is urgent. This is really embarrassing.’ ‘Still, I am coming now, so suppress it a little
bit longer!’ Just as he was saying this, the older brother burped. (My translation; original in
Miyao 2006: 179)
The two functions of the anal opening, being all of a sudden both called for at the
same time, come into conflict with each other here, and the comic tension of the tale
is thus created. The idea is that the fart suppressed by the wakashu, its normal escape
route being blocked, is finally released through another orifice, namely the mouth of
the older partner, in the shape of a burp.
In any case, this double-faced aspect of the anus as excretory organ and sexual
orifice was a rich source of faecal humour that ranged in variety from farting to the
products of defecation per se. In the context of the present discussion, however, it is
its sexual function that is of interest, since it fashioned the anus or by extension the
buttocks as the central symbol of shudō. Any mention of this part of the body in a
sexual context invariably implied anal sex and in consequence nanshoku and male-
male intercourse, since anal sex represented the standard sexual practice between
males. On account of this chain of associations a close conceptual link existed be-
tween the buttocks, anal sex and nanshoku, as is mirrored in the jargon of connois-
seurs of male love of the period. This jargon contained an abundance of expressions
referring to this body part sexually so central. Apart from the term shiri 尻 that de-
noted the buttocks in common parlance, the anus was called by colourful names like
nyake 若気 (‘youthful energy’) or kikuza 菊座 (‘chrysanthemum seat’), an expres-
sion that alluded to the resemblance the anus held with the inner part of this iconic
16 Vienna Graduate Journal of East Asian Studies
Japanese flower. Other terms that were in use, such as subari 窄 (‘tight hole’) or o-
kama 御釜 (‘pot’) underlined the property of the anus as an orifice.11
A large part of these metaphors woven around the youth’s buttocks by the vo-
cabulary of shudō denoted the body part per se as well as the wakashu. Nyake, su-
bari and o-kama were expressions referring to the anus as well as by extension to the
whole youth, the owner of this iconic body part of male love. On a lexical level, the
buttocks thus became virtually a pars pro toto for the wakashu, the wakashu thereby
being indirectly defined merely as the young man attached to this part of the body
that was such a strong presence in the discourse on male love. It is unnecessary to
mention which ‘side’ was considered the youth’s ‘best side’. The body of the youth
is often reduced to this one part that harboured sexual pleasures for the older partner,
not only on a word level, but also in the erotic nanshoku discourse as a whole, which
centred on the buttocks. In this way, the wakashu is silently shaped by the desiring
male gaze12 of the older partner, who projected his fantasies and wishes on to the
youth’s body, only seeing what he wanted to see.
This chain of associations of anus/buttocks-anal sex-nanshoku was, however, not
yet complete as such and was spun further on a metaphorical level. As a result of a
process of continuing abstraction, not only the buttocks and the anus, but the general
term ‘back’ in the sense of the whole rear side of a wakashu came to connote a cer-
tain type of sexual practice and a certain kind of sex object:
Automatically the boy associates the request to turn around (ushiro muku 後ろ
向く), coming from the mouth of an older man, even though completely harmless in
this case, with sexual acts and points out that under these circumstances he prefers
staying with his previous employer, where services of a sexual nature obviously also
ranked among his duties. Thus, the mere mention of ‘back’ (ushiro 後ろ) in all pos-
sible variants, such as for instance ‘back gate’ (kōmon 後門, uramon 裏門), in any
remotely sexual context inevitably implied anal sex with a male partner and conse-
quently nanshoku, a connotation that shōwa eagerly exploited to create humorous
double entendres.
As such the term represented one half of an antithetical pair, its counterpart being
‘front’, which referred to vaginal sex and therefore to female sex partners, as is illus-
trated by the following tale:
A monk from the surroundings of Kiyomizu regularly visited [the teahouses specialising in
male love in] Miyagawachō and entered into an intimate relationship with a yarō named
Tatsunosuke. At this time he also became close to a maiko named Sashirono for some rea-
son, a fact he kept hidden from Tatsunosuke. One night the patron of the bordello said to
him, ‘Honourable priest, I cannot understand why you favour a female prostitute all of a
sudden.’ Pretending to be completely ignorant the monk replied, ‘Ever since this public
display of the Kiyomizu Kannon I have revised my ways and turned to the front.’ (My
translation; original in Miyao 2006: 151)
Questioned about his sudden change of mind concerning the choice of sex partners,
the monk replies jokingly that he has been enlightened by the sight of the Kiyomizu
Kannon, and has since reconsidered his sexual preferences. He has turned his back
on the ‘back’, that is to say anal sex with youths, and now prefers the ‘front’ of a
woman in vaginal penetration.
This dichotomy implicitly demanded an adult male subject, represented in the
tale above by the character of the monk, from whose perspective sexual practices are
seen. The complementary relationship of ‘back’ and ‘front’ would not hold, at least
not in the same form, when viewed from the angle of a wakashu or a woman. ‘Back’
and ‘front’ as metaphors thus structure the domain of desire of a male adult, which is
seen as divided in two on the basis of the different sex objects available. Strictly
speaking, this dichotomy represents a distinction between two sexual practices,
namely anal sex and vaginal sex. This distinction, however, because of prevalent
sexual norms, automatically implied a certain sex of the sex object. In other words,
‘back’ and ‘front’ depended as metaphors on the standard sexual techniques an adult
man would practise with female and male partners respectively. Digressions from
these standards certainly existed in practice, as can be for instance gathered from
images depicting anal sex with women,13 but these less common forms were obliter-
ated by the metaphor of ‘back’ and ‘front’, which thus represents a generalisation of
the norm.
An exception to this norm is for instance portrayed in the following tale, where a
female prostitute extends the range of her standard services in order to heighten her
allure for a certain section of customers:
A certain monk passed through the courtesan quarter. A prostitute clung to his sleeve.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked angrily. ‘I took Buddhist vows when I was five or six and
have not accepted anything from the hands of a woman ever since that time. Let go of me
at once!’ The courtesan replied, ‘Of course, but I am not asking you for anything that
would be against your vows. I have heard that monks make use of wakashu. I can also
make my buttocks of service to you.’ Hearing this, the monk said, ‘I had not thought of
that. How much do you charge?’ ‘Let’s see. Since I like it from the front, I will take what-
ever you can pay for that. An attack on the back gate requires more of an effort on my part
and therefore costs a little more.’ The monk said, ‘As you can see, I am a penniless and
weak old monk. I am not fit for the difficulties of an attack on the back gate anymore. So
let’s assault the front gate with my lance!’ And soon they were at it. (My translation, origi-
nal in Odaka 1970: 138)
The courtesan is aware of nanshoku practices in Buddhist temples and the sexual
preference for boys in this context. Being a business woman, she naturally seeks to
attract customers and therefore adapts the range of her services to the demands of
the monk. However, since anal sex does not correspond to the sexual norm of vagi-
nal sex practised with female partners, she charges a higher rate for this ‘extra ser-
vice’. Upon this, the customer, who represents the humorous type of the sex-
obsessed monk, quickly relinquishes his previously negative attitude towards
women and braces himself for ‘an assault on the front gate’. Even though the sexual
status quo is thus restored at the end of the tale, the prostitute nevertheless lays claim
to the erotic domain of the wakashu with her strategies to win customers. In fact, a
type of female prostitute called kagema-onna 陰間女 did exist, who imitated waka-
shu in their appearance and invited customers to make use of their services with the
words ‘My buttocks are at you disposal’, as Shikidō ōkagami 色道大鏡 (1678) re-
lates (Leupp 1995: 176). The reference point for the dichotomy of ‘back’ and ‘front’
are thus sexual standards, which were, however, not always upheld.
In the following tale the opposite case is depicted, and the wakashu enters the
female erotic domain by turning role expectations upside down, thus also upsetting
the established contrast of ‘back’ and ‘front’ for the sake of humorous effect:
When a man tried to seduce a wakashu inexperienced in the ways of boy-love, the youth
complied quickly and even stayed over. When the man had the wakashu turn around to his
back under the covers, the youth said, ‘It is better from the front.’ He had the man lie on
top of him and pulled his legs up. From the very beginning he said, ‘Push violently, push
violently!’ and took great pleasure in it. Weirdly enough, his partner could not stand this
and came on the spot. He pulled out his thing and said to the wakashu, ‘I have another re-
quest. Would you let me insert my finger?’ The wakashu agreed and abandoned himself to
the nenja. ‘I have yet another request. Let me look at you by light.’ – ‘Why do you insert
your finger and want to look at me by the light of a torch?’ – ‘It is rather strange that this
feels so good, so I want to see if there is not a vagina somewhere.’ (My translation;; origi-
nal in Miyao 2006: 188)
In his inexperience, the wakashu in this tale, described as a jiwakashu 地若衆, that
is to say a non-professional youth, apparently falls short of expectations of how a
youth should act. At once willing to abandon himself completely to the man, he also
seems to enjoy sexual interaction greatly, which was considered rather uncommon
Angelika Koch: Between the Back and the Front: 19
Male Love in Humorous Tales of the Edo Period
for the penetrated partner, as has been pointed out. Lustful comments, normally only
to be heard from the nenja, are here put into the mouth of the youth, a reversal of
roles that contributes to the overall narrative strategy of the tale to construct the
youth as an unorthodox bed partner.
With his eccentric sexual preferences the youth also breaks up the established di-
chotomy of ‘front’ and ‘back’, by letting the man, who actually intends to take him
from behind, go about it from the front. Thus, he approaches the female domain,
since the front unequivocally carried connotations of femininity and normally im-
plied vaginal sex. In his behaviour the youth therefore undermines the role expecta-
tions applying to a wakashu, which finally culminates in the questioning of his bio-
logical maleness at the end of the tale. The youth apparently stretches gender
boundaries to an extent that the man feels he needs to be reassured by physical facts
– and wants to make sure if there is not maybe a vagina somewhere, rather than an
anus.
While the main attraction a man looked for in a woman was thus the female sex
organ alluded to in the metaphor of the ‘front’, the prime point of interest a wakashu
had to offer was to be found at the ‘back’, in the shape of a body part that was not
his sex organ. This is typical of the discursive representation of the wakashu that
makes one look for the male member of the youth in vain. In the rare cases where
the penis of the wakashu is mentioned, it is implied that it should actually not be
there at all and is depicted as out of place, as has become clear in the tales discussed
above. On a more subtle linguistic level, metaphors and symbols revolving around
the wakashu also refer mainly to this one part of the body considered the very thing
for a good time with a youth, only that this is not his ‘thing’, but his backside. The
penis of the nenja, on the other hand, is present in the shōwa, it is being moistened,
thrust, inserted, pulled out. The male sex organ was a fairly popular topic in the
shōwa in general, and some tales even depict the literal comparison of penis lengths
(cf. for instance Mutō 2004/2: 196). Even the vagina as the female sex organ, which
had by definition no place in a nanshoku relationship, is suspected in the anus of a
boy, as was illustrated in the tale above. But what about the male sex organ of the
youth?
The latter is conspicuously absent in the erotic shōwa on male love, and looking
for it remains a rather futile venture. Since the desiring male gaze of the nenja had
no use for it, the penis of the wakashu plays virtually no role in the texts. Thus, the
primary sex organ, this icon of the seemingly untouchable Western concept of the
duality of the sexes, is written over in discourse and virtually replaced by another
part of the body. The locus in discourse usually reserved for the penis remains noth-
ing but a blank spot in the representation of the wakashu. This metaphorical fig
leave was, however, not attached out of some prudish sense of shame, since shōwa
generally did not display any second thoughts about depicting sexually explicit facts.
20 Vienna Graduate Journal of East Asian Studies
Rather it can be seen as due to a lack of interest, the gaze being directed towards the
‘back’ and the sexually more attractive bodily regions situated there.
Moving between: desire and the two ways of love in the shōwa
‘Back’ and ‘front’ thus represented sexual possibilities available to an adult man:
vaginal sex with women and anal sex with boys. The universe of desire of an adult
male in the Edo period appears as divided in two, as expressed by a whole set of
dichotomies that were used at the period to classify the sexual domain. In Kōshoku
ichidai otoko, Saikaku, for instance, speaks of ‘two ways of love’ (shikidō futatsu 色
道二つ) (Ihara 1992: 3), referring to shudō 衆道 and nyodō 女道, the ‘way of
youths’ and ‘the way of women’. These twinned terms were used basically inter-
changeably with the expressions nanshoku 男色 and joshoku 女色, ‘male love’ and
‘female love’, which expressed the same dualism.
What these word pairs shared with the dichotomy of ‘back’ and ‘front’ was the
angle of the male adult subject that served as a point of reference. Accordingly, the
‘way of youths’ was little if at all concerned with how youths loved, but merely with
how they were being loved by an adult male;; and the ‘way of women’ did not pay
much attention to the desire of the female sex. All these terms were categorisations
of sexual options open to an adult man. Youths and women, the dividing point in
these paired expressions, were in both cases the objects of male desire alone (Pflug-
felder 1999: 25-28). The same applies to the dichotomy of ‘back’ and ‘front’, which
makes women and youths disappear even more linguistically, and only vaguely hints
at these two categories as the objects behind certain sexual practices.
'Back’ and ‘front’ basically represent the same dualism as joshoku and nanshoku
or nyodō and shudō, even though these terms were by no means congruent. The
metaphor of ‘back’ and ‘front’ configured the partners implied in the dichotomy
purely as sex partners, whereas the other terms incorporated the sexual aspect of a
relationship in their meaning, but generally referred to a wider range of interactions
between male partners (Pflugfelder 1999: 43). The basic aspect common to all of
these paired expressions is that the picture they draw of male desire is divided in
two. However, this did not mean that a man had to be satisfied with only one half of
the picture, and these terms were therefore not pairs of opposites in the strictest
sense, contrary to the modern dichotomy of heterosexuality and homosexuality.
Rather, men could move between the domains of joshoku and nanshoku without
being stigmatised, a practice they subscribed to fondly, as has become evident in
several of the tales discussed. Men moved freely between courtesans and male pros-
titutes, and when they returned home from a tête-à-tête with a kabuki actor, they
were often expected by their wives.
Angelika Koch: Between the Back and the Front: 21
Male Love in Humorous Tales of the Edo Period
An adult man thus had in principle both ways of love open to him and moved in
this sense between the ‘back’ and the ‘front’, between male and female sex partners.
But did the same apply to the wakashu? Did he have any choice, or was this, like
other things in the hierarchically structured nanshoku relationship, a privilege of the
nenja? Was the wakashu permitted the same flexibility of sex partners the nenja
enjoyed? In tales dealing with male love the wakashu was naturally mainly config-
ured as the partner of an adult male, and in this context it was always his ‘back’ that
remained of sexual interest, since he invariably performed the role of insertee.
Away from the male gaze of the nenja and outside a nanshoku relationship, the
wakashu could, however, potentially act as a penetrating partner with women and
entertain sexual relations with the other sex. In the genre of humorous tales, as well
as in the popular literature as a whole and in images of the period, representations of
sexual encounters between wakashu and women are to be found. These were often
set in a commercial context, where women purchased the sexual favours of a kabuki
actor or a male prostitute. One comic verse (senryū 川柳), for instance, comments
that ‘the audacious widow chiefly travels the path of shudō’ (quoted in Pflugfelder
1999: 27). Another one quips: ‘The widow hurries off to buy a female role actor’
(quoted in Leupp 1995: 175). Female customers were apparently typically widows,
who were often caricatured as having an insatiable sex drive in the humorous litera-
ture of the period, but the ladies-in-waiting from the shogun’s castle were also re-
puted to have a soft spot for wakashu. Both represented types of women who neither
had the opportunity to have sexual contact with men in everyday life, nor were sub-
ject to the male control of a husband. Tanaka Yūko, however, takes the view that not
only these two groups, but women from all walks of life took advantage of the ser-
vices of male prostitutes (Tanaka and Shirakura 2003: 20).
The following tale revolves around a group of ladies-in-waiting, who are de-
picted as highly enthusiastic and persistent fans of an idolised kabuki actor:
‘Ogawa Kichitarō, who specialises in roles of rich men fallen into the lower classes [yatsu-
shi], is really indescribable, there are no words.’ Such was the opinion of the ladies-in-
waiting and they fell in love with the actor. Kichitarō grew tired of this popularity and
went to the kyōgen-kata, a person performing various stage duties during a kabuki per-
formance. ‘What should I do about this?’ Kichitarō asked him. ‘If you hold a raffle and
take the winner as your wife, the others will surely bear no grudge.’ ‘I understand, this
sounds reasonable,’ said Kichitarō and planned a raffle. Today was the day, and when the
drill with the pierced wooden tag [with the winning number on it] was lifted out of the box
[that contained all the numbers for the draw], voices were heard shouting out: ‘Here, that’s
me!’ One after the other a whole bunch of ladies-in-waiting came up to Kichitarō, plucking
at Kichitarō’s sleeve and making much noise. ‘Well, what is the meaning of all this? There
is only one pierced wooden tag, how can this be?’ ‘The ten of us bought our raffle ticket
together.’ (My translation;; original in Miyao 2006: 164)
22 Vienna Graduate Journal of East Asian Studies
Ogawa Kichitarō 小川吉太郎, a kabuki actor of the second half of the 18th century,
obviously enjoys enormous popularity with women in this tale. His sly scheme
meant to ward off the ladies-in-waiting who burn with passionate love for him back-
fires on him in the story. The raffle does not achieve the desired result of curbing his
appeal for the female sex, since no less than ten ladies win the first prize, in this case
Kichitarō himself – to the latter’s utter amazement and dismay. The ladies-in-
waiting had shared the ticket price, as was not uncommon a practice back then,
which meant that in the event of a win the prize would be distributed equally among
the holders of the ticket. While this did not pose a problem with prize money, the
allotment of shares became comparably more difficult with a human first prize. Ki-
chitarō thus becomes the target of laughter, since his supposedly cunning plan makes
him jump out of the frying pan into the fire.
This tale takes up an aspect that should not go completely unnoticed, notwith-
standing the previous discussion of the wakashu as the younger partner of a nan-
shoku relationship: youths also had the occasional flirtatious eye for the female sex –
and were certainly eyed fondly by women, as is the case in the tale above. Ogawa
Kichitarō, however, proves less than thrilled with his status as sex symbol with
women, even to the extent where he would like to put an end to the star cult the
ladies-in-waiting have built around his person. In Saikaku’s Nanshoku ōkagami 男
色大鏡 (1687), virtuous kabuki boys also turn up their noses at relationships with
women, shunning all advances of the ladies in their loyalty to the way of boy-love.
The fact is, however, that women apparently had an interest in the good-looking
youths, even though this was often portrayed in negative terms, ridiculed and smiled
at in the male-dominated discourse on male love – provided it was portrayed at all.
Literary depictions of relationships between wakashu and women are far less
common than representations of nanshoku. This may on the one hand be due to the
structures of the literary market of the period, where male authors wrote from a male
perspective for consumers of in this case erotic texts, who were also mainly male.
Another factor was that most (married) women certainly did not have the freedom to
frequent the pleasure quarters to the same extent men did. Nevertheless, women,
particularly the already mentioned higher-ranking ladies, were also known to patron-
ise kabuki actors (Shively 1978: 38). In the third month, when the ladies-in-waiting
customarily received vacations, theatres would even especially put on plays on clas-
sical topics in order to cater to the tastes of this clientele (Shively 1978: 29). Tanaka
Yūko assumes on the basis of pictorial evidence of the period that about half of the
audience of a kabuki performance was female (Tanaka and Shirakura 2003: 18).
That interactions between the artists and their female fans did not always remain
innocent is illustrated for instance by the notorious scandal involving the lady-in-
waiting Ejima 江島 and the actor Ikushima Shingorō 生島新五郎, whose affair
went on for nine years before it was discovered in 1716 (Shiveley 1978: 29-32).
Angelika Koch: Between the Back and the Front: 23
Male Love in Humorous Tales of the Edo Period
But what were these sexual encounters between wakashu and woman like for the
wakashu? Even though often treated with disdain, an attitude that sprang from the
strict nanshoku ethos in texts on shudō, an active sexual part seems to have held
some physical pleasures for the youth, as is for instance related in the Yarō kinubu-
rui 野郎絹篩 (1710): ‘It is needless to say how fortunate a yarō is when bought by a
lady-in-waiting. Being paid for doing something pleasant – that is almost scary’ (my
translation of the original quoted in Shirakura 2005: 49). Contrary to the role of
insertee allotted to the wakashu in male-male intercourse, the sexual act with female
partners is thus characterised as ‘something pleasant’ (yoi koto) for the youth – as
long as interactions between women and wakashu were not condemned on ideologi-
cal grounds.
The youth therefore stood between a passive sexual role in intercourse with adult
men, that was seen as rather disagreeable, and the active, more lustful role he could
assume with female partners. From this point of view he also moved between the
‘front’ as vaginal sex with women and the ‘back’ as anal sex with men, even though
not in the same sense as the nenja, from whose perspective the metaphor was mainly
configured in the Edo period. The adult male had a free choice of partners of both
sexes as well, but for him these options represented active and pleasurable sexual
activities. Thus, both partners of a nanshoku relationship moved in a certain sense
between ‘back’ and ‘front’, only what it meant for them was different. The pleasures
of the ‘back’ belonged by definition to the adult man, while the youth was always on
the painful, passive receiving end of male-male sexual interaction.
Conclusion
The point of departure of this discussion was the dichotomy of ‘back’ and ‘front’ –
two terms that have sent the reader on an article-long tour through the realm of
male-male sexuality and eroticism. Simple as it might seem at first sight, this meta-
phor encapsulates a whole body of erotic facts, starting with the realities of male-
male (and male-female) intercourse, and ranging all the way to the nature of desire
in the Edo period. As far as the nanshoku relationship is concerned, the metaphor
implicitly draws the picture of a truly unequal couple, a couple where the older part-
ner was ‘more equal’ than the youth, and where his viewpoint was imposed on the
younger partner. Accordingly, the nenja enjoyed certain privileges that came with
this position of power in a nanshoku relationship. Foremost among these was the
claim he had on the inserter role, which was considered the one part in male-male
intercourse that held the promise of sexual fulfilment. His young companion mean-
while was not meant to enjoy sexual interaction to the same extent, and if he did
derive pleasure from it, against all role expectations, this was depicted as a sign of
eccentricity in the youth.
24 Vienna Graduate Journal of East Asian Studies
However, the older partner had the licence not only to touch, but also to look,
judge and shape the youth. After all, the ‘back’ stood for the body part of a youth the
adult male yearned for, and it was the latter’s wishes that were channelled into the
metaphor. It is a striking fact that none of the tales cares to comment on how dashing
and handsome the nenja is, while the youth and his physical charms are under con-
stant scrutiny – imposed by those who had an interest in peeping, namely adult men.
This male gaze of adult men functions on several levels; it is not only the eyes of the
nenja within the narrated world of the stories that rest upon the youth, but ultimately
those of the mostly adult male readers and authors as well. Erotic nanshoku texts
constituted a ‘literature of the nenja’ (Pflugfelder 1999: 54), and it is the fantasies
and wishes of the adult male that shape the stereotypical picture of the attractive and
highly eroticised wakashu as represented in the tales.
The youth’s desires and erotic ideals, on the other hand, were generally accorded
no importance in the texts. The tales did not address the question if the nenja was
good-looking, or possibly even repulsively ugly, since the wakashu apparently did
not possess the right to assert his gaze. Besides, such straying from the adult male
viewpoint would not have catered to the tastes of the prototypical consumers of
these texts, who represented mainly the nenja half of a nanshoku relationship. The
same applies to sexual intercourse, which was primarily configured as the older
partner’s playground, while the youth seemed a mere toy in it. Behind all this, a
certain underlying tenor becomes easily discernible: the adult male penetrates, the
youth is penetrated; the adult male looks, the youth is looked at; the adult male
judges, the youth is judged. Thus, the youth appears as the passive counterpart of his
older partner, a passivity that is not merely a grammatical one, but extends to repre-
sentations of male-male intercourse as well as male-male eroticism, as has become
apparent in the previous discussion.
This dominance of the adult male is also evident in the construction of the
youth’s body, which was generally characterised by the discursive absence of the
male phallus, this icon of the masculine. While the nenja sports an erection promi-
nently in some tales, not only is this denied to the youth, but his male sex organ is of
little importance in general, in whatever state of arousal. This omission might on the
one hand be accounted for by the lack of interest the male gaze of the nenja showed
in this part of the youthful body, but could also be seen as a strategy on the part of
the adult male to assert power. After all, only one partner could ‘wear the breeches’
in the relationship, that is to say, lay claim to male dominance, sexually and other-
wise. In order to be able to dominate, the nenja per definition needed someone he
could dominate. In order to keep the nenja in a position of power, the youth had to
be deprived of his masculinity to some degree – so why not emasculate him discur-
sively?
Angelika Koch: Between the Back and the Front: 25
Male Love in Humorous Tales of the Edo Period
In his passivity, the youth approached the domain of the other, ‘non-adult male’
in the universe of desire of a nenja, namely women – a category he was distinct from
in most other respects, though. He shared characteristics with both women and men,
but was naturally neither the one, nor yet the other, which left him in a somehow
ambiguous situation. Moreover, outside the boundaries of male love the youth could
also leave this passivity behind when he interacted with female partners, as has been
discussed above – which made his gender status even more ambivalent. It has there-
fore been suggested that the youth constituted a separate ‘third gender’ alongside
adult men and women.14
Irrespective of whether one subscribes to this view or not, it is precisely this
quality of ‘between-ness’ that seems characteristic of the Edo period, a fluidity of
gender and a flexibility of sexual desire unfamiliar to the Western observer, whose
options are delineated by a comparatively rigid ‘matrix of intelligibility’ (Butler
2007: 23-24), able to produce only a limited number of ‘intelligible’ genders,
namely those based on a coherence of sex, gender and desire. While from a Western
hetero-normative viewpoint a biological male is thus supposed to behave according
to standards considered ‘manly’, and to desire like a man, which is equivalent to
desiring women, the metaphor of ‘back’ and ‘front’ tells a completely different
story. Both youth and adult men could move freely ‘between back and front’, be-
tween male and female sex partners, without being stigmatised. Furthermore, it
should be kept in mind that every youth would eventually become an adult man,
who could potentially take over the role of nenja in a nanshoku relationship, and
enjoy the pleasures of anal penetration denied to him in his earlier days as wakashu.
Thus, despite the God Kannon’s claim voiced in the tale quoted at the very begin-
ning of the article, there was certainly a lot of ‘side switching’ going on, in various
directions.
As far as such ‘moving between’ is concerned, the metaphor of ‘back’ and
‘front’ tells a tale of tolerance. Same-sex relationships between males were widely
accepted at the time – an attitude that is mirrored in the shōwa dealing with male
love. These humorous tales were therefore by no means the Edo-period equivalent of
bad ‘gay jokes’ that made fun of same-sex practices. Far from it, the shōwa depicted
male love as a cultivated erotic discipline, the pursuit of which was considered a
sign of a fashionable man about town. Accordingly, the laughter in the stories is
directed at those men who misbehave in their advances towards a youth – or those
who do not follow the way of boy-love at all. This is to be illustrated by one last
tale, which provides a fitting conclusion to a discussion of male-male sexuality,
because it captures the attitude towards male love in the Edo period in a nutshell. It
pokes fun at an adult man so ignorant of the etiquette of male-male intercourse that
14 See, for instance, Mostow 2003. Pflugfelder argues against such an approach, since the category of waka-
shu constituted a temporary status (Pflugfelder 1999: 36).
26 Vienna Graduate Journal of East Asian Studies
he mistakes the moistening of the male member with saliva, meant to facilitate anal
penetration, for a very different, everyday act:
A certain man exclusively liked women and was not familiar with youths at all. ‘What a
boor you are! Probably you are also completely ignorant of how to treat a boy.’ Thus his
friends would say and laugh at him. Upon this he replied: ‘That is true. But I have watched
others doing it, and I have noticed something strange. They take something, completely
absorbed in it, and eat it. That I don’t understand at all.’ (My translation;; original in Odaka
1970: 98)
Thus, an obvious lack of knowledge about the intricacies of ‘the back’, together with
an unwillingness to ‘move between’ the two ways of love, could apparently even
make a man a laughing stock.
Angelika Koch: Between the Back and the Front: 27
Male Love in Humorous Tales of the Edo Period
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GLOSSARY