To go even further: In the story, the dorotabō calls out, “Ta wo kaese!” meaning, “Return my rice fields!” This phrase sounds very similar to ta wo tagaese (耕せ), which means to “plow the fields.” This could be another play on words, in which Sekien seems to be alluding to sexual intercourse. There is also the old Japanese idiom “doro ta wo bō de utsu”(泥田を棒で打つ), which literally means, “hitting a muddy field with a stick.” This is another euphemism for the pleasures of the adult entertainment quarter, and Sekien probably could not help himself but to reference it while creating this muddy yōkai.

The typical tale of the dorotabō goes something like this: Once, long ago, there was a man who lived in the Hokkoku, or Northern Country. He wanted to leave his grandchildren something of value—something that would ensure they had plenty of food and a solid way to make a living. After some thought, he bought a piece of land and turned it into a rice field. For many years, he selflessly plowed the field, planted seedlings, and grew and harvested rice. No matter how bad the weather or how much his body ached, he continued to toil away and never complained.

Meanwhile, his own adult children stayed at home and did nothing at all. They watched him work, ate his rice, and spent his money, never once lifting a finger to help. The old man grew older, maintaining the farm until the day he died.

At first, his children lived off the money he had left them, though they quickly frittered it away on alcohol. When it disappeared, they sold the land and used that money to carry on their degenerate lives. The rice field was never properly cared for by the new owners either. It wasn’t long after that, late one evening, that a dark-colored mud beast rose up out of the ground and began calling, “Give me back my rice fields!”

The spirit of the old man, full of bitterness and disgust at seeing what had become of his land and years of careful hard work, had returned. The very earth that the farmer had tended so diligently with unwavering devotion had transformed into the gruesome dorotabō. Every night, this muck-dripping, one-eyed apparition would emerge from the fields, its anguished cries shouting its displeasure, a relentless demand for the return of the stolen rice fields.

In Modern Stories

The dorotabō can be found in products from the Japanese media franchise Yo-kai Watch, going by the name Mudmunch in English, and in Pokémon as Grimer and Muk. You’ll notice both little monsters have only three fingers, like the original dorotabō, and seem to be rising up out of a puddle of filth. Then there is also a character Kabane Kusaka who is nicknamed Dorotabō in the manga Kemono Jihen.