In this interesting and beautifully illustrated account of the Japanese tattoo, the authors' intent is to place the subject within a context more culturally meaningful than that usually given it.
Hence the title. The lofty samurai ethos is not usually associated with the lowly tattoo (and certainly no samurai was ever tattooed), but the "idealized self image" common to both allows for "the similitude between tattooing and the samurai life (that) runs on a moral and ethical level." Both demand both patience and diligence, as well as great skill.
Certainly fidelity, loyalty and determination were ideals for both the samurai and his plebian counterpart, the "otokodate." This was the chivalrous and gallant commoner who, with the political decline of the samurai, took his place in the popular imagination -- and was often tattooed. Originally a guild mark (among other things), the tattoo also decorated members of such heroic organizations as the Edo fire department, and even now I would guess that more sushi chefs (still manifest as a guild) sport tattoos than do yakuza.
It is of course this latter profession that has made the tattoo notorious in contemporary Japan. At the same time, as the Kitamuras are at pains to explain, it is the yakuza who are the true heirs to the samurai: "The overpowering hierarchical system of honor and deference is just one of the ways in which this spirt is manifested." The yakuza have a strict appreciation of tradition, a strong sense of pride, and a belief in the efficacy of violence. The linking of samurai belief (bushido) and the art of the "horimono" (tattoo) is in its way logical.
Another similarity is the strong emphasis on the quality of "gaman," a word usually translated as "perseverance." This means striving toward a goal, no matter how bad the pain. In tattooing the pain is so literal that the term gaman was in some places used as a synonym for tattoo.
To be sure, pain is necessary if gaman is to be exemplified. As a means toward masculinization (among other things), tattooing without pain would never do: There would be nothing to gaman about. Therefore tattooing must be extremely painful, almost not to be put up with, so that putting up with it ("gaman suru") becomes a virtue.
Takahiro Kitamura says that "the pain of a single tattooing session -- which can last for several hours -- can persist for several days"; it can also cause nausea, or fainting. Even if electric needles are used rather than the traditional chisels, the pain is not to be downgraded. That the operation is painful (to what degree the nontattooed will never know) in itself contributes to those intangibles that make getting a tattoo attractive.
One is certainly proof of perseverance. The creation of a full "body suit" takes several years, even with regular weekly sessions. Such persisting also requires a similar degree of gaman from the wallet, since going to the tattoo master is, like going to the psychiatrist, expensive. There is another similarity as well. The operation takes so long, involves such disclosure, such pain, that very often a bond between tattoo master and customer is forged for life.
Kitamura knows a lot about this since he himself is a tattoo master, practicing under the name of Horitaka. His own designs, scrupulously traditional, are well known and much sought after. In his work he continues, in the best horimono tradition, the ideals of his teacher, Horiyoshi III.
It is this master whose work is so beautiful displayed in this book and who serves as example of the art and craft of tattooing itself. His methods of work, his relations with his clientele, his lineage (a family tree is included) and his eminence are all indicated. That the result is sometimes close to hagiography is proper. All accounts dealing with dedication and steadfastness must by their nature be hagiographic.
One of the results is that this scholarly accounting is also quite personal; indeed, often relaxed. Steadfast though these modern samurai are, they also like to loll around. Another of the results, certainly unintentional thought not unwelcome, is that tattooing is legitimized. Though public saunas still prohibit tattoo-wearers, and though there is a common prejudice that all such are really yakuza, the horimono refuses, rightly, to be demonized. Tattooing is an art and must be treated as such. It is this consideration and the success of its results that makes this book valuable.
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