Mountains of the Imagination: An Introduction

Shinjuku station is labyrinthine, a complex series of corridors, underpasses, platforms, ticket machines, and gates. A vast, bustling network, and perhaps a curious place to start a thesis about mountain use within contemporary Japan, sitting as it does at the heart of Tokyo, and forming part of the centre of Japan’s greatest metropolis. Amongst this everyday activity are groups of people, and individuals, laden under their hiking and trekking packs, and clothed in the latest hiking gear. Look carefully and you’ll see omamori mingling with other efficacious charms, mascots, and the assorted paraphernalia of mountain use hanging off numerous people’s bags. Many head for the same set of platforms, the Chuo Line with its direct connection to Kofu, Kobuchizawa, Chino, Matsumoto, and Hakuba, stations that link Tokyo with the Japanese Alps. Others can be found around the main bus terminal, waiting for express buses to major destinations such as Kamikochi, Kiso-Fukushima, Ontakesan, and Shin-Hotaka Onsen.

These individuals are participating in an increasingly popular recreational activity, involving hiking, camping, and mountain climbing, part of a wider collection of outdoor, or ‘adventure’ activities that have become an important facet of contemporary Japanese culture. As a mountain runner and alpinist, I am part of this crowd, and although I stand out (being western, with a relatively modest pack compared to the gigantic packs many people use that are big enough to hide a medium sized bear), I am absorbed in a mixture of tiredness, excitement, nerves, and an excessive quantity of coffee. There is a shared purpose and focus, and sense of belonging despite the diverse and individualised nature of the group.

Mountains play a focal role in the lives of those who climb and explore them regularly, often becoming the guiding force, around which everything else revolves. An obvious, but important point to make because that centrality is often overlooked, and/or taken for granted. With mountain use – whether that is climbing, hiking, trail running, or snow sports – being viewed as a hobby, something that is pursued during leisure periods/time.

To a certain extent this is true, but also wildly inaccurate, dismissing the fundamental role that mountains hold for many. It becomes a way of life, that to some involves exploring what they see as sacred landscape, with links to historic mountain cults and conceptualisations of a sacred topography of use. I have talked to people who described climbing Hotakadake as interacting with the gods of the mountain, giving thanks for their experiences, and hoping that close friends will be protected by their actions. But this overt invocation of the sacred is not universal, and other people I have met while in the mountains use different language to talk about the importance of looking after, and respecting mountains spaces as part of the Leave no Trace ethical code of mountain use. As part of these and many other discussions and interactions, a picture of a new (or renewed) appreciation for the spaces beyond urban Japan is encountered.

To explore the mountains of Japan is to be physically and temporally distanced from the urban every day (although the urban is often visible from the peaks and ridgelines). Wilderness or the wild outdoors is often evoked, although as I will discuss later in another post, we must be careful with these conceptualisations, as ‘wilderness’ is invariably romanticised to remove the presence of urban settlements. In Japan one is never far from the urban, and only in the most remote regions of the Japanese Alps, and certain areas of the Tohoku region are you out of sight of a city or large town.

My writing is the product of numerous interests, an iterative process which brings together concepts of sacred landscape, mountain climbing, trail running, and ideas of the sacred and profane (knowing that such a phrase is highly inaccurate). There is no singular question to be explored and answered, but rather an interrogation of a process of use and exploration; how mountains, these geographical, geological, and cultural constructs, play a central role in many people’s lives, as foci for veneration. ‘Veneration’ here can have multiple meanings, religious and spiritual, but also physical veneration, praising the landscape for its starkness, drama, for the complexity involved in exploring it, a complex concoction of ideas and understandings around how landscape is to be viewed, used, and understood.

I set out to explore a number of important themes which are already the focus of existing research – Shugendo, mountain climbing, folklore, Japanese Cultic Traditions, exploring how they interact with one another in the context of broader mountain use. Previous research on mountain use (more broadly speaking) in Japan has either focused on the religious/sacred nature of specific peaks as they relate to cultic centres and traditions (Breen and Teeuwen, 2010; Grapard, 1992; Junichi, 2014; Miyake, 2001, 2005; Reader, 2005; Sekimori, 2009, Ambors, 2008; Blacker, 1999; Blair, 2015; Earhart, 2011; see appendix for more on Shugendo), or when exploring mountaineering has focussed primarily on Japanese sports culture, the creation of professional organisations, amateur groups, alongside university and sports teams, mountain climbing within a structured context (Ion, 2015; Wigen, 2005, Hori, 1996; Thomas, 2001; Kelly and Atsuo, eds. 2007; Manzenreiter, 1997; 2000).

To a greater or lesser extent many of these themes are present throughout my work, informing one another, and influencing how people interact with the landscape around them. As such my writing incorporates elements of past studies, but looks at how they interact with and inform one another within the context of contemporary mountain based activities. Additionally, previous research on mountain use, specifically mountain climbing, has tended to focus on historical contexts, or organisations (see Manzenrieter, 1997, 2000; Wilson, 2012; Hori, 1966; Sato and Klautau, 2009).

I add to and expand upon such works by focussing explicitly on the physical in my approach to studying mountain use in Japan. By directly interacting with the landscape and the people who spend time in it, I am able to explore the relationships between historical knowledge and traditions, and the direct physical necessities of mountain use those other approaches lack. Mountain users are not academics, and while many might have a certain amount of knowledge regarding themes such as Shugendo, or Folkloric understandings of specific parts of a trail, it is only ever partial. This is in part one of the central themes and interests of my writing, how this partial knowledge informs use, and plays an active role in the formation of understandings of space and place that is simultaneously geographic and physical, but also imaginary.

The aim then is to elucidate on these themes and highlight how the exploration of mountain regions of Japan represents what I term ‘Journeys of Significance’. These journeys in their most basic state are often highly similar to overt pilgrimage trails such as the Shikoku Henro, a way of exploring significant (or sacred) landscape, thus highlighting the evolution that such journeys undergo as they adapt to the changing socio-cultural landscape and structures of Japan. Contemporary trends of forest bathing, the focus on powerspots (Carter, 2018), and on exploring space beyond the concrete urban, all represent attempts to discover something more fundamental or significant that is (perceived to have been) lost in the urbanisation of space.

There is a clear element of this within contemporary mountain use, an attempt to explore and experience something different, to free oneself from the socio-cultural stresses of Japanese society. Mountains offer an escape, no matter how brief or fleeting. On social media a repeated refrain is that being ‘in nature’ allows people to be themselves. While such comments are rarely explained, their meaning seems clear, that the natural spaces beyond the urban allow for a freedom that urbanised life does not allow. And although there are questions regarding these statements, not least to do with the way landscape is created through a constant process of use, the differentiations between the urban and the mountains within social media posts is readily apparent.

Mountains become a central space for storytelling and the sharing of narratives and ideas. They acquire a certain sentience, are often talked about in ways that suggest they are more than mere geography, with discussions incorporating everyday elements within what amounts to a mythical space often bearing little resemblance to the actual realities of that specific mountain.

When discussing hiking in the Northern Alps, friends talk openly about looking forward to views of Yarigatake – known as Japan’s Matterhorn, and possibly a more iconic mountain than Fujisan, to the dedicated mountain user. While hundreds of people climb Yarigatake every year, making their way from Kamikochi bus terminal to the inner recesses of the Kamikochi valley, it is primarily discussed as a distant, even mythical peak. Those I know who have climbed this mountain don’t talk about that specific experience, beyond sharing photos of themselves on the summit. Instead, the discussion is about the mountain as viewed from a distance, a visually distinct marker in the landscape which draws the eye A mountain of the imagination, mythical in quality, even as it is a physical feature of the landscape.

While my main focus has been on Japan, primarily driven by pursuing an MPhil and subsequently a PHD in the area, many of my comments and ideas are just as relevant when discussing broader mountain use across the world. And I think that exploring themes surrounding why people choose to explore mountains, be that as a hiker, climber, or skier/snowboarder can help elucidate on their importance and serve to provide a basis for their use and protection.

Sources:

Blacker, C. (1999). The Catalpa Bow: A Study of Shamanistic Practices in Japan. Richmond, Surrey; Japan Library.

Breen, J. and M. Teeuwen, (2010). A New History of Shintō. Chichester; Wiley-Blackwell.

Earhart, H. B. (2011). Mount Fuji: Icon of Japan. University of South Carolina Press; Columbia, South Carolina.

Grapard, A. G. (1992). The Protocol of the Gods: A Study of the Kasuga Cult in Japanese History. Berkeley; University of California Press.

Hori, I. (1966). Mountains and their Importance for the Idea of the Other World in Japanese Folk Religion. History and Religions, vol 6(1); pp. 1-23.

Kelly, W. W. and S. Atsuo (eds). (2007). This Sporting Life Sports and Body Culture in Modern Japan. Council on East Asian Studies. New Haven, Connecticut; Yale University Press.

Kuroda Toshio, tr. Fabio Rambelli. (1996) The Discourse on the "Land of the Kami" (shinkoku) in Medieval Japan: National Consciousness and International Awareness. Japanese Journal of Religious Studies. vol23, pp: 353-85.

Manzenreiter, W. (1997). Sports, Culture and Politics: The Changing Faces of Pre-war Japanese Mountaineering. New York; Mimeo.

Manzenreiter, W. (2000). Die Soziale Konstruktion des Japanischen Alpinismus. Wien: Abteiling für Japanologie, Institut fur Ostasienwissenschaften, Universitat Wien.

Miller, A. (1992). 'Everywhere and Nowhere: the Making of the National Landscape', American Literary History 4, (Summer), pp. 207-29.

Miyake, H. (2005). The Mandala and the Mountain: Shugendō and Folk Religion. Ed. Gaynor Sakamori. Tokyo; Keio-University Press.

Reader. I. (2005). Making Pilgrimages: Meaning and Practice in Shikoku. Honolulu; University of Hawaii Press.

Sekimori, G. (2009). "Shugendō: Japanese Mountain Religion. State of the Field and Bibliographic Review." Religion Compass vol3(1) (January 2009): pp; 31-57.

Sekimori, G. (2009). Defining Shugendō Past and Present: The "Restoration" of Shugendō at Nikkō and Koshikidake. Cahiers d'Extrême-Asie. Vol. 18, pp. 47-71.

Thomas, J. A. (2001). Reconfiguring Modernity: Concepts of Nature in Japanese Political Ideology. Berkeley; University of California Press.

Wigen, K. (1995). The Making of a Japanese Periphery, 1750-1920. Berkeley; University of California Press.