Sixteen-Men Valley — a Japanese Folk Tale of Horror
The merciless heat of Japanese summer and the significance of willow trees
Before air conditioners were installed in every home, people tried to endure the merciless heat and humidity of Japanese summers by deceiving their senses with things they would associate with coolness: the sight of Prussian Blue on their kimono, the soothing sound of wind chimes and…the artificial chill induced by listening to horror stories.
So here’s a chilly Japanese folk tale called Jyūrokunin Dani (which I translate to Sixteen-Men Valley) with a little insight into the significance of willow trees in Japanese culture.
Yasuke was telling his guest how life was as a lumberjack during his youth. The mountains of the Hida region were steep and the forests there were dense. Wildlife was rich and varied — so varied that giant serpents would crawl around looking for raccoons, boars, and lumberjacks to eat.
Young Yasuke came back home all tipsy after having had more than enough to drink at a funeral of a coworker whose life was taken by a serpent. He realized there was a young woman he had never met waiting for him in his room.
She bowed and pleaded calmly, “I hear you will go into the woods of the mountains tomorrow. Please do not cut down the willow tree you will find there.” But Yasuke was too drunk to take her seriously and fell asleep.
The next morning, Yasuke tagged along with his fifteen coworkers into the woods. When they got to a deep trench, they found a huge willow tree that was no younger than a couple of centuries old. The lumberjacks cut the tree down excitedly and did not listen to Yasuke’s plead for them to stop.
That night, after the lumberjacks had dinner at their log house, they all suddenly felt drowsy. They instantly fell asleep on the floor. Yasuke woke up to the sound of the door sliding open. The woman he met the night before came inside. She kneeled beside a lumberjack, and kissed him. Not only did she kiss the lumberjack, but she also sucked his tongue off and killed the man.
One by one, she gave each lumberjack her kiss of death. Yasuke, for some reason, could not move a finger all the while. At last, when Yasuke was the only man left alive, the woman sat beside him and said, “I thought it wouldn’t end this way if I asked you for help” and brought her lips close to his.
That moment, Yasuke grabbed his knife, lashed at the woman, and then ran down the mountain as fast as he could.
Fifty years passed, and Yasuke still could not forget the dreadful incident and the deadly but beautiful young woman who had tried to kill him.
Old Yasuke looked up at his guest and said, “Don’t get me wrong, but you look just like that woman.”
The next morning, Yasuke was found dead on the floor. His tongue had been removed. The trench the willow tree stood in has been called Sixteen-Men Valley ever since.
Willow trees are spooky, to begin with. They let their long hair dangle from above, and that hair gently and creepily caresses your face whenever you walk underneath.
In Japan, you’ll typically see willow trees planted along waterways. Until cement took their job, they used to help prevent rivers from flooding by gripping the soil with their roots. They saved lives! But rather rudely, Japanese people have associated these trees with ghosts, probably because of how spooky they looked and also because they were often seen beside bridges.
Bridges were thought to be the boundary between our world and the world of the supernatural. You may have seen bridges that are arched into a semicircle in Chinese and Japanese gardens or paintings, and wondered why anyone would build such counter-ergonomic architecture. They are in fact not easy to walk on! The answer to the mystery is simple: those bridges were meant for gods to cross, not humans.
To make sure gods were the only supernaturals crossing bridges, willow trees were planted as they were believed to keep evil spirits away. People thought ghosts wouldn’t go too far away from the bridge, and instead linger beneath a willow tree at night.
The Imperial Gardens in central Tokyo are a jogger’s paradise. Every morning, hundreds of runners circle around the Emperor’s spacious residence, the most scenic and pleasant jogging course in the capital. The gardens are surrounded by moats, which are surrounded by nice stone pavements, which are of course accompanied by a series of willows that provide protection for the Emperor in a spiritual sense.
If you are the athletic type and you have a chance to stay at a hotel nearby, I seriously recommend that you go on a morning run around the Imperial Palace. You won’t be able to help but feel a kinship with the Japanese Emperor as you savor the beautiful view he generously shares with everyone. You’ll like the sound of the sacred willow trees brushing their hair against each other.
Anyway, the lumberjacks cutting down a willow tree after all it had done to protect people from floods and evil spirits were not wise. I think they deserved to have their tongues removed.
If you liked the folk tale and commentary on it, I’d like to recommend my book Folk Tales of Japan: 28 Japanese folk tales with cultural commentary very, very much.
As the title suggests, it’s a collection of Japanese folk tales that will take you back in time and guide you to enjoy Japanese culture further.
It’s a fun entry point into Japanese culture for readers who are curious to learn about Japan and also a wellspring of new perspectives for Japanese culture enthusiasts. The book is available via Amazon. Please have a look!
▶︎ Illustration of willow tree drawn and photos taken by Kyota Ko.
