URASHIMA TARŌ 浦島太郎
Pronunciation: OO-rah-shee-mah TAH-roh
Also known as: Urashimako (浦島子), and Urashima no Ko (浦島の子)
Overview
Urashima Tarō is a kindhearted hero from a folk story dating back to the eighth century, who didn’t even have a name until the 1400s. In Japan, his story is just as well known as the tales of Momotarō and Kintarō (see their entries), but it is different in its strange twist and ultimately sad ending. Unlike the Peach Boy or the Golden Boy, Urashima Tarō wasn’t a wunderkind who was born extraordinarily powerful and took part in a lot of epic battles—he was just a normal guy who did a good deed and got rewarded, and then what felt like the right decision landed him in an unfortunate place (you’ll read more about this later in the entry).
There are quite a few variations of Urashima Tarō’s tale through the ages, many of them quite old. One very ancient reference to his legend can be found at a shrine in northern Kyoto Prefecture called Urashima Jinja (Urashima Shrine). It boasts a document that describes a man named Urashimako who left his land in C.E. 478, went to a place where people never die, and then came back in C.E. 825. Upon returning, Urashimako was carrying an important part of the story, a tamatebako, with him. Tamatebako (玉手箱) is a word that was created by combining tama, which means “jewel” but has the nuance of meaning “beautiful,” with tebako, a traditional small box for storing things. Ten days after his return, he opened the beautiful jeweled box, white smoke poured out, and he transformed into an old man who died soon after. Upon hearing this story, the emperor at the time (Emperor Junna) ordered a shrine built to pay homage to both the tamatebako and Urashimako’s no doubt disgruntled spirit.
Background and Popular Stories
Otogizōshi (御伽草子), or companion tales, are a group of thirty- to forty-page short stories written and illustrated during the Muromachi era (1336–1573). The authors and artists are mostly unknown, but what is known is that unlike past literary works that came from the aristocracy, these stories were created by a much broader spectrum of society, including monks, hermits, those in the warrior class, and possibly merchants. Scholars debate whether there are only twenty-three “true” otogizōshi or as many as five hundred. Within the authenticated twenty-three tales lies one about Urashima Tarō.
One version of his fairy tale goes like this. Long ago, a young fisherman saw some rambunctious boys hitting a sea turtle with sticks. He shooed the children away, saving the poor animal. The next day, the turtle returned and told him as a reward for saving its life, the dragon god (see the Ryū entry) had invited him for a visit to his dragon palace, Ryūgū-jō. Urashima Tarō accepted; he climbed on the turtle’s back and off they went.
There he was met by Otohime (乙姫) (the grandmother of Japan’s first emperor, Jimmu), the dragon god’s daughter. They spent three days enjoying each other’s company in the magical underwater palace made of coral and gold and silver. On day three, however, Urashima Tarō suddenly had the urge to see his aging mother again. He told this to Otohime, saying he wished to return home.
She was saddened to hear his decision but understood his feelings. Otohime then presented him with a tamatebako as a parting gift and told him to take it with him but to never open it. He agreed, climbed back on the turtle, and departed the magnificent dragon palace forever.
After arriving home, though, Urashima Tarō noticed that everything looked different than he remembered. His mother’s house was gone and even more disturbing, no one knew who he was. He retraced his steps to the beach and encountered a very elderly man who had heard the name Urashima Tarō. However, the old man recounted that Urashima Tarō was a figure of legends who’d disappeared from that very shore before the old man was even born.
As it turned out, three hundred years had passed since Urashima Tarō had first taken a ride on that fateful turtle and visited the Ryūgū-jō.
The realization that everything he knew was gone, and that a return to the dragon palace again was impossible, thoroughly depressed the young fisherman. He sat down and—whether intentionally or unintentionally, no one will ever know—he opened the tamatebako that he’d vowed to keep sealed. In an instant, he was engulfed in white smoke and transformed into a very old man with a long white beard and hair.
Some early variations of the tale have him going instead to a mountain called Hōrai or Tokoyo no kuni (meaning “Timeless Land”). Mount Hōrai in Chinese mythology is called Mount Penglai and believed to be a legendary, magical place where all the animals were pure white, and jewels and enchanted fruits grew on trees. This fruit could cure any disease, grant eternal youth, and bring back the dead. Immortals lived in palaces made of gold, silver, and platinum, and from the top of the Mount Hōrai billowed the smoke of the burning elixir of immortality.
In Modern Stories
Urashima Tarō is indeed ageless, while maybe not quite as prevalent in modern culture as Kintarō and Momotarō. Still, you can find mention of him in author Ursula K. Le Guin’s short story “Another Story, or A Fisherman of the Inland Sea” as well as in the manga and anime Gintama in the Ryūgūjō arc, which has the turtle, Ryūgū Palace, Otohime, and Urashima, who ends up sealed in a cryo-chamber. There is also a “bad” version of the folk hero named Ura Urashima (which translates to “Reverse Urashima”) in the manga series YuYu Hakusho.