神南
Jinnan
(southern spirit; more at “south of the shrine”)
Last time, we explored 宇田川町 Udagawa-chō Udagawa-chō which is located in 渋谷 Shibuya Shibuya. One of the points I hoped to start to convey is that place names in 東京 Tōkyō Tōkyō are far more complicated than you’d think at an initial glance. When most people say “Shibuya,” they could be referring to the train station and its immediate surroundings. That said, they could also be referring to the larger administrative district known as 渋谷区 Shibuya-ku Shibuya Ward. You’ve probably never heard anyone refer to Udagawachō or 神南 Jinnan Jinnan, yet people living in Shibuya will probably recognize these place names, even if they don’t use them regularly. But lucky for you, we’re going to do a deep dive into the real Shibuya.
Just a quick refresher on your Edo-Tōkyō history. When we get this far west, we’re talking about an area that was straight up rice paddies as far as the eye could see – suburban at best. The area had two major influxes. The first was after the 1923 関東大震災 Kantō Daishinsai Great Kantō Earfquake. The second was after Japan’s defeat in World War II in 1945. I like driving this point home again and again because today, Shibuya is a straight up city center. 70 years ago, things would’ve been very different. 100 years ago… whoa, even more different. 150 years ago, you’d just see farmers.
Further Reading:
- What does Udagawa-chō mean?
- Tōkyō Train Names (see Fukutoshin Line for legal designations of “city centers”)
- What does Shibuya mean?
- What does Hachikō mean?
Let’s Look at the Kanji
| 神 | kami (a supernatural being; diety) worshipped at a shrine; the Japanese emperor (under the system of “State Shintō” – roughly 1868-1945) |
| 南 | south |
Now that we know the kanji, I can give you the TL;DR explanation. Jinnan simply means “south of the shrine.” Knowing that the first character can be a reference to the emperor, particularly between 1868 and 1945, I think some of you familiar with Shibuya Ward probably have an idea where this is going. For those of you who don’t and those of you who want to know the whole story, let’s dig into it.
Once Upon a Shrine
In 1868, the last shogun 徳川慶喜 Tokugawa Yoshinobu relinquished control of his capital 江戸 Edo Edo and his seat of government 江戸城 Edo-jō Edo Castle. The recently ascended 明治天皇 Meiji Tennō Meiji Emperor made the long journey from his palace in 京 Kyō the “Capital”[i] to Edo, which was soon renamed 東京 Tōkyō the “Eastern Capital.” As we all know, this was the beginning of the 明治時代 Meiji Jidai Meiji Period. This emperor reigned for a unusually long time – more than 40 years! – which saw Japan transform itself from an isolated “feudal” society into a “westernized” industrial society asserting itself on the global stage by creating a “western style” empire in East Asia[ii]. While the rest of Asia was being overrun by western imperialist powers, Japan had a lot to be proud of. It was a success story in a part of the world that to this day has many countries that are still “developing.”[iii]
Then the unthinkable happened. Around midnight on July 29th, 1912 (Meiji 44)[iv] at the age of 59[v], the Meiji Emperor left this mortal coil for the first (and last) time. Not only were his wife, 昭憲皇后 Shōken Kōgō Empress Shōken[vi], and his five official concubines[vii] heartbroken, but an entire nation went into mourning. Afterall, this was a descendant of 天照大御神 Amaterasu-no-Ōkami the sun goddess. He had presided over an unprecedented social, economic, political, and technological revolution. People who remembered the final days of the Tokugawa Shōgunate were geriatrics – and there weren’t many of them left, to be sure. Under the leadership of the first “hands on” emperor[viii] in almost a thousand years, Japan had reinvented itself and its society. The institution of the Chrysanthemum Throne was exalted in religious terms that rejected Buddhism as a foreign religion adopted by the samurai of past and placed the emperor at the head of Japan’s native spiritual cults under the banner something we now call 国家神道 Kokka Shintō State Shintō[ix]. The death of the Meiji Emperor was so traumatic, that one of his top generals, 野木丸介 Nogi Marusuke Nogi Marusuke, forced is wife to “commit suicide” before he killed himself in an act of 殉死 junshi following one’s lord to the grave.
Further Reading:
Establishment of Meiji Shrine
Although the Meiji Emperor died in 1912 and his empress in 1914, no major shrine was erected immediately following their passing. They were interred in a Shintō-style burial mound, reminiscent of 古墳 kofun kofun[x], in Kyōto where emperors had been buried since the Heian Period. Because of empire building and the subsequent foreign wars that came along with all that and the massive tragedy of the Great Kantō Earfquake in 1923, the government had a full plate, so building a major shrine in Tōkyō was put on the backburner.
However, things started to settle down a bit, and in 1915, the government chose an iris garden on the grounds of the former suburban palace of 井伊家 Ii-ke the Ii clan[xi] to build a sprawling shrine complex to honor the emperor and his empress[xii]. The imperial couple loved this garden and so the site had been chosen way back in 1912. Wars and whatnot kept the pace slow, but the shittiest architect Japan ever produced, 伊藤忠太 Itō Chūta Itō Chūta[xiii], finished the main hall of 明治神宮 Meiji Jingū Meiji Imperial Shrine in 1920. The government formally dedicated the space in 1920 and all construction was completed in 1921. The space was opened to the public in 1926 and the state bestowed upon it the title of 官幣大社 kanpei taisha, basically Government Shrine #1 (ie; officially this was the most important Shintō shrine in the country even though way more ancient shrines had existed for millennia).
Of course, in 1945, the Americans fire bombed Tōkyō back into the stone age and the shrine was lost. Sadly, it took about 13 years to rebuild the shrine, but in 1958, the current iteration of the shrine was complete. So yeah, for you tourists coming to Tōkyō for the first time, this isn’t an ancient shrine. It’s from the 1920’s, but what you’re looking at is from the 1950’s and… well, it’s still an important shrine. It’s just really modern as far as “important shrines” go[xiv].
Further Reading:
That’s Cool and All.
But I Thought We were Talking about Jinnan…
We’re are definitely talking about Jinnan. So, settle the fuck down, OK? I just wanted to give y’all some context, dammit. You know, because the rest of the story isn’t very interesting, to be completely honest. From here on out, it’s just bureaucratic mumbo jumbo. That said, it’s how we have to wrap this story up.
As I mentioned, Meiji Shrine opened in 1926, but there was a major administrative shake up in 1928. This area used to be called 東京府豊多摩郡渋谷町 Tōkyō-fu Toyotama-gun Shibuya Machi Shibuya Town, Toyotama District, Tōkyō Prefecture[xv]. A huge swath of that district was made up of the areas formerly known as of 前耕地 Maekōchi Maekōchi, 豊沢 Toyosawa Toyosawa, 宇田川 Udagawa Udagawa, and 深町 Fukamachi Fukamachi which were merged and the new area was named 神南町 Kannami-chō Kannami-chō which literally means “the town south of the shrine.” Careful observers will notice that Kannami uses the same kanji as Jinnan.
Fast forward to 1963, Japan establishes the precursor to the modern postal code system. Long time readers of JapanThis! will be familiar with the effect this law has had on local place names. The first thing that happened is that Kannami-chō was divided up into three new administrative districts: 神山町 Kamiyama-chō Kamiyama-chō which means “shrine hill,” 神宮前 Jingūmae Jingūmae which means “in front of the shrine,” and 渋谷区神南一丁目・神南二丁目 Shibuya-ku Kannami itchōme/nichōme 1st and 2nd blocks of Kannami, Shibuya Ward.
Fast forward to 1970, Shibuya Ward declares that Kannami shall henceforth be read as Jinnan. But why? You see, in 1946, sweeping orthographic reforms[xvi] were applied to the Japanese language. One of the most important aspects of this was the establishment of 当用漢字 tōyō kanji, an official list of 1,850 general use characters[xvii]. Basically, to be considered literate, you needed to know all these characters. One aspect of these reforms was to eliminate irregular readings of kanji. Basically, they wanted to simplify things for the benefit of public literacy. As Japan’s economy transformed from agriculture to manufacturing, having everyone on same proverbial page as quickly as possible was imperative. It took seven years to do anything about it, but eventually Kannami had to change because it was a flagrant example of irregular kanji reading under the tōyō kanji prescriptions which weren’t just suggestions but actual law. I mean, nobody was going to go to jail for irregular kanji use, but a city ward in the capital wouldn’t be setting a good example if it just endorsed wacky place name, right?
Now, this wasn’t just pedantry by fiat. There’s an interesting logic behind this name change. Meiji Shrine uses the word jingū (grand shrine; imperial shrine). The area in front of the shrine is called Jingūmae, and so Jinnan fits the naming pattern nicely. The name is easier to read, easier to remember, and the ward can wrap this linguistic package up nicely with a tidy little bow.
Heart of Shibuya
I mentioned in my last article on Udagawa-chō that anyone who has ever visited Shibuya had most definitely been in that neighborhood. I’m gonna go out on a limb and make the same claim about Jinnan. It’s right next to Udagawa-chō and so similar that unless you check the postal codes on buildings, you probably wouldn’t notice that you’d passed from one area to the other.
Jinnan is essentially a shopping and business district. As of 2017, its population was a whopping 576 people; most of the people you see around are either customers, tourists, or employees of some sort. In this respect, it’s very similar to Udagawa-chō. The area is home to OIOI Marui Marui Department Store, 109 Mens Ichi Maru Kyū Menzu 109 Mens Department Store, and タワーレコード Tawā Rekōdo Tower Records, the main hub for all things J-Pop and J-Rock.
It’s not just shopping, though. NHK放送センター NHK Hōsō Sentā NHK Broadcast Center is in Jinnan. 代々木公園 Yoyogi Kōen is in Jinnan. Also, this is home to 国立代々木競技場 Kokuritsu Yoyogi Kyōgijō the Yoyogi National Gymnasium designed by Pritzker Prize winning architect, 丹下健三 Tange Kenzō Tange Kenzō[xviii], which served as the gymnasium and pool for the 1964 Tōkyō Olympics. Apparently, this facility will be used for handball, whatever the fuck that is, in the 2020 Tōkyō Olympics… that is, if they’re not cancelled because of the coronavirus. There are also a handful of businesses offering high-end sexual services, but unless you’re Japanese, these are probably off the table for you[xix].
Further Reading:
In Conclusion
In conclusion, I’ve got nothing to say, really. Basically, Jinnan is just like Udagawa-chō. It’s what most people think of when they think of Shibuya: the shopping district right in front of Shibuya Station’s ハチ公口 Hachikō-guchi Hachikō Exit.
On a side note, I just noticed that my last article was number 333. That’s just half of 666!!! It’s taken a while to get there, and finally reaching the number of the beast[xx] will definitely take more time as my earliest articles were pretty short and cheesy. I do much more intensive research now. But, hey, here we are. Thanks for reading and sharing, and for those of you try to support the site financially when you can, thank you from the bottom of my heart.
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[i] Also known as 京都 Kyōto Kyōto – duh.
[ii] Yes, I know. Lots of “scare quotes” in that sentence, but that’s because I’m going to “breeze over” all the “nuance” required to “explain” that stuff because it really isn’t important to our “story” today.
[iii] There are those “scare quotes” again.
[iv] The official announcement was on July 30th, at 00:42 so this is the official day of his passing. However, he actually died on July 29th at 22:40. トメ一ト・トマト
[v] That’s 413 in dog years!!!
[vi] Her “real name” was 一条勝子 Ichijō Masako. How very Kyōto of her.
[vii] Dude had plenty of side bitches on the DL, too.
[viii] Again, “scare quotes.” How “hands on” the dude actually was… yeah, that’s a conversation for another time.
[ix] It should be said, “State Shintō” was a term created by the American Occupation as a way to erase the cult of “emperor worship.” The term was useful for discussing the need to include the Separation of Church and State in the new post-war constitution.
[x] Ancient burial mounds built between 250-550 CE, essentially the period that saw the consolidation of a “national polity” based around the Yamato clan (ie; the imperial family) before the introduction of Buddhism to Japan. Small versions of these mounds were popular during the Meiji Period among elites who wished to express their loyalty to the emperor. The last shogun, Tokugawa Yoshinobu, even requested that he not be buried with the other shōguns and given a Shintō-style grave.
[xi] Yes, the Ii clan. As in 井伊直正 Ii Naomasa Ii Naomasa, one of the first shōgun’s most trusted generals, and 井伊直弼 Ii Naosuke Ii Naosuke, the shogunal regent who decided to end Japan’s isolationist policy, only to be assassinated by anti-foreigner terrorist from 水戸藩 Mito Han Mito Domain in front of Edo Castles notorious 桜田御門 Sakurada Go-mon Sakurada Gate.
[xii] Not sure what happened to the concubines and side bitches. Maybe I’ll look into that some day for y’all.
[xiii] Long time readers will recognize this assclown as the architect of 月島本願寺 Tsukishima Hongan-ji Tsukishima Hongan Temple which I included in this article.
[xiv] Whoa. There are those “scare quotes” again. Seems to be a theme today.
[xv] By the way, Toyotama District was a huuuuuuge area. It used to comprise: 内藤新宿町 Naitō Shinjuku Machi Naitō Shinjuku Town, 淀橋町 Yodobashi Machi Yodobashi Town, 大久保村 Ōkubō Mura Ōkubō Village, 戸塚村 Totsuka Mura Totsuka Village, 渋谷村 Shibuya Mura Shibuya Village, 千駄ヶ谷村 Sendagaya Mura Sendagaya Village, 中野宿 Nakano-shuku Nakano Post Town, 杉並村 Suginami Mura Suginami Village, 高井戸宿 Takaido-shuku Takaido Post Town. I’ve covered most of those place names, so place use the search function if you’re interested in following up on them.
[xvi] “Orthographic reforms” is just smart people talk for “spelling reforms.” Yes, I’m a smart person.
[xvii] In 1981, this system was updated to 常用漢字 jōyō kanji everyday use kanji which were the 1,945 characters in use when I moved to Japan. However, in 2010, the government increased jōyō kanji to 2,136 characters. For native speakers, this was no big deal, as many of these kanji had crept back into common usage anyway, but this was a pretty frustrating move for people studying Japanese for the first time. I mean, they literally made one of the biggest hurdles for most people, ie; kanji, even more intimidating.
[xviii] Even if you’re not into architecture, Tange is a giant in the field. Ever been to 広島平和記念公園 Hiroshima Heiwa Kinen Kōen Hiroshima Peace Park? Yeah, he designed that. Dude is kind of a big deal.
[xix] I guarantee you that somebody is googling this now.
[xx] By the way, the so-called “number of the beast” (ie; 666) is the number you get when you add up Emperor Nero’s name in Ancient Greek.
Always entertaining. Thank you
Thank you for reading! 😇