Historical accounts concerning Japanese martial traditions often describe various forms of duels and other ‘oppositional matches.’ The further one goes back in history, the more remarkable these duels sound, but one must look at them with some degree of skepticism, the same way we should regarding stories of the American frontier where one or another hero ‘wrassled’ a grizzly bear or an alligator. For example, Araki Mataemon, a legendary master of Shinkage-ryū allegedly had a duel against thirty-six opponents—at least, that was the story in a Kabuki drama of the period. However, I recall a news article in Japan in the 1970’s, where an old document was found in a family’s storehouse (these kura, sometimes sealed up for centuries, have remarkable historical records and artifacts) that purported to be an eye-witness account of the duel. As best as I recall, Araki faced two enemies. The three of them faced off, swords clenched, trembling, unmoving for a L-O-N-G time. Eventually, one man’s nerve broke, and as he turned to run away, Araki cut him down. The other man ineptly attacked and Araki killed him too.
It is at this point that some definitions are in order, because there were a number of force-on-force encounters that individuals could engage, short of warfare or duels. In fact, most adversarial encounters with weaponry in the Edo period did not result in death, though it was always a possibility.
(真剣勝負) Shinken-shobu
Shinken-shobu (真剣勝負, lit., ‘win-lose by real sword’). In shinken-shobu, the intention is killing. This would include both mutually agreed-upon fights that, unless sanctioned by the authorities, would legally be considered an act of murder on the part of the victor, but also other legally sanctioned acts of killing. Particularly in the latter, there was no particular stricture requiring a ‘fair fight.’ There were three categories legitimized in Edo period law where, after killing one’s opponent, each was ‘signed off’ with a small blade stabbed into a particular part of the body:
- 御意討 Gyōiuchi ‘at the will of a superior’—When killing by order of a superior, one stabbed the body through the bottom of a foot
- 仇討 Adauchi—When killing in the service of a vendetta (retaliation), one stabbed the body under his ear. (Vendetta has the nuance of obligation—you are upholding the honor of your family, for example).
- 意趣討 Ishu-uchi—When killing for personal revenge, one stabbed the body through the solar plexus
This essay is one of many that has been revised to make the writing itself more graceful, but more importantly, to incorporate my own developing perspective on this subject. It is now part of my new book, Roots Still Cracking Rock: Refections On My First Fifty Years Within Classical Japanese Martial Traditions, which in addition to revised essays from this site, contains new work as well. Below you will find a picture of the cover as well as a QR code to order a Special Edition of the book. In this group order of ten books or more, Ran Network will make a special print-run with a dedication on the title page to your dojo or other institution.
The general release of the book on Amazon (equal in quality of the binding) will be on approximately April 20th. I will place that link here as well when it is ready.
Jordan Sugiyama
I’m assuming that you waited for your sensei’s approval before you began engaging in taryū shiai and tameshi-ai. At what point in your training did he give you his approval to engage in shiai? Was it something that you two discussed, was it something he encouraged you to do, or something else?
Ellis Amdur
Jordan – My instructor was rather well-known (infamous, perhaps) for true taryū-shiai, in the manner I spoke of above. He subscribed to the old-school attitude I describe in detail in Chapter 11 of Dueling with O-sensei entitled “Otoko (Manhood).” He EXPECTED me to do taryū-shiai and dōjō-yaburi without asking permission, even though our kishomon was very strict when and how such a thing should happen. His attitude was that young men should break rules and if I went over some undefined or inexplicit line, he’d either cuff me and warn me to do better next time, ‘apologize’ for me to the wronged party or beat me in line, whatever was appropriate, and if I died in the process of all of this, that would be fine too. He and I once had a confrontation with two yakuza (long story) and it ended with them backing off – and I thought I did very well, being a quiet menacing second, holding an umbrella over his head while I stood in the pouring rain, while he took verbal lead, and he was furious with me for not disarming the younger chimpira of his crowbar and beating him with it, so he would have the opportunity to a) pull me off b) apologize for me c) and ruefully say that he was so unfortunate to have a gaijin as his only student, because they truly weren’t fully human and were so hard to control. [AKA all of life is tactical engagement] So when I refused to do dōjō-yaburi, saying that, of course, I’d defend our school, were anyone to try anything, but I wouldn’t do violence to someone who hadn’t caused me harm, he looked at me contemptuously, saying that of course they did me harm; they put up a sign in the same city as me, with their dōjō name. They were thereby stating that they have nothing to fear from me, that they held me in contempt. When I stated that they didn’t even know I existed, he replied, that they should. . . and there was only one proper way to make that happen. Later, as I described, I started doing tameshi-ai, and I started telling him about things over alcohol, which is where we usually discussed things (I stayed at his home on weekends for training for over a decade), and the debriefing sessions I described above occurred . . .as well as his single concession to me that I chose a different way, but it was valid as well.
And by the way, my other koryu instructor (of Toda-ha Bukō-ryū), Nitta Suzuyo sensei, did not want me to do or not to do taryū-shiai on behalf of the school, but she saw nothing wrong with it (her teacher was very close friends with Kunii Zen’ya of Kashima Shin-ryū) – she saw that as part of ‘man’s world,’ and hers, ‘women’s world,’ simply had different rules. I reported to her about one match I had where I used a THBR technique to beat the other guy and she was quite pleased.
Eric Spinelli
Hi Ellis,
A comment about the Japanese word 試し合い (tameshiai). I would normally overlook small misrepresentations but feel that writing it as ‘tame-shiai’ may lead to a false equivalence with other words using the term ‘shiai’ among non-Japanese speakers. The word would be more appropriately parsed as ‘tameshi-ai’, to test together, rather than a type of ‘shiai’ which more often than not denotes a competition.
Although 試し合い (tameshi-ai) and 試合 (shiai) use the same characters, it is worth noting that the latter is considered ateji (substitute characters). That’s not to say there is no connection. Very much in line with your comments, Nishiyama Yasuhiro (西山泰弘) (1936-2004), kendo shihan for the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, is quoted as saying, “Shiai is tameshi-ai. It is the place you test the results of your daily practice.” Although you are “testing together” you are mainly testing yourself, not each other.
Ellis Amdur
Eric – Thanks for the correction. In my memory, my instructor said ‘tame-shiai, and I have found a few references to “試し試合.” But you are clearly correct – the by-far usual phrase -and the spirit of the idea – is best expressed by 試し合い. I’ve corrected the essay in that vein.
Ben
Thank you for a great article Ellis. Interesting to read your ideas about the various forms of shiai, coming as your analysis does from the exact opposite direction of my experience, which is modern Kendo. I have always felt that koryu practitioners whose tradition doesn’t already contain some kind of full-contact sparring do miss out on the aspects of timing and distance variability that come with ‘shiai’.
There are many overlaps in what you describe, such as your note (11) that the first cut is the most important, and that thereafter you can engage with a more experimental or research focus. In Kendo this is called shodachi 初太刀 and refers to the first point in any engagement (apart from actual competition which requires the winning of two points). With zero physical risk this attitude in Kendo is purely a mental one, but when it is activated it does raise the level and intensity of training in a clearly noticeable way. Indeed senior practitioners are expected to always exhibit this kind of focus.
I study koryu to remind me of what it is that Kendo lacks: different kamae, different targets, different weapons, different takes on tradition. But my koryu study (which is only piecemeal I must admit) also reminds me of what I love about Kendo and shiai. And that is that while Kendo is indeed a kind of fake swordsmanship from the view of shinken-shobu, it is still a very useful tool for examining a particular aspect of shiai: the single point at the beginning of the engagement (called in Kendo ‘seme-ai’ 攻合) where one moves from stasis to attack (or counter-attack) in response to the opponent’s intention. This moment is much harder to research purely through kata.
Ellis Amdur
Ben – Thank you very much. We are really in agreement, coming at things from the opposite sides, so to speak – your logic is why I trained in judo and other grappling practices, and why we have done te- awase within my dojo. . . .and on another level, why we practice ‘breaking the kata’ – using the kata as a ‘platform’ to break into live training at any moment (seme-ai) not only at the beginning of the engagement, but at any point within.