Otetsuki Penalties

One of my biggest challenges with learning to play karuta are penalties (otetsuki, お手付き). A penalty happens in one of there scenarios:

  • The correct card is on the opponents side, but you touch a card on your side for any reason.
  • The correct card is on your side, but for any reason you touch a card on the opponent’s side.
  • The card is not on the board (karafuda, から札), but for any reason you touch a card on the board.

In all three cases the result is the same: your opponent is allowed to send a card over to you. Their card count is reduced by one (advantage), and your card count also increases by one (disadvantage).

If you think about it, a penalty is more costly than simply letting your opponent take the card. In the rare case of a double penalty, it is extremely costly because your opponent will send over two cards.

However, the pressure to correctly identify and then take the correct card before your opponent makes penalties possible, even for pro players. However, the more you prevent penalties the better your gameplay overall.

In my case, I get penalties often under pressure. In some games, I get as many as 8-9 penalties which is disastrous. The featured photo is a game I lost recently where I had 6 penalties. I would have still lost but the margin was much bigger due to penalties and panic (i.e. “tilting”).

If I calm down and focus, I can reduce this far fewer. Sometimes when I panic, I have to remind myself that it is better to be slow, than to be wrong.

For the past month, I have been striving to reduce my penalty rate and found a great article in Japanese. It identifies a few different patterns of penalties people tend to do, and how to counteract each. I won’t explain the article word for word, but some of the more common patterns are:

  • Forgetting (or mis-remembering) the position of cards on the board. This requires a grasp of the kimariji for quick recognition, and focus to maintain a “mental map” in your head. Personally, I find it helpful to focus on an empty spot on the board as a meditation “focal point”, so I can visualize without looking.
  • Hitting cards on both sides of the board on accident. This requires physically practicing how you move your hand and being quick, but more precise.
  • Listening incorrectly (or jumping the gun) and taking the wrong card. This is very common and a good habit to break quickly.

One method I have used and wrote about before is playing solo and reducing the pressure while focusing on being correct, not fast.

Another, general method for reducing penalties is practicing kikiwaké (聞き分け): “separating sounds”. This is a form of teaming and a mini-game in the online karuta app called “Branching Cards” in English. The Japanese kikiwake means to listen and differentiate.

“Branching Card” in English

In each round you will be presented with 2-3 tomofuda (友札), or cards with similar kimariji. Your job is to listen and take the correct one. There are no empty cards; the correct one is always on the board somewhere.

As the article explains above, you should focus on the last syllable of each kimariji so that you can more easily differentiate which is being read.

In the example below, there are two cards with kimariji of しの (shino) and しら (shira). The の and ら are what differentiate the two.

In a more challenging example, there are cards with kimariji of みせ (mise), みち (michi) and みよ (miyo). The せ, ち, and よ are what differentiate the three.

At first this is surprisingly tough to do. You have to recognize the cards quickly, and then listen for the important syllable. I made many mistakes at first, but after a couple weeks, I’ve gotten better about waiting until the correct syllable is read.

As always keep practicing fudawake, but also strive to improve your listening and self-discipline too.

Good luck!

2024 Meijin and Queen Championships

Hello,

The 2024 championships for 70th men’s Meijin (名人) and 68th women’s Queen (クイーン) titles, were streamed on YouTube this weekend!

And sub-channel here:

It seems that the Meijin-Queen championships are held every year shortly after Japanese New Year (oshōgatsu, January 1st through 3rd), and are played as “best of 3” (out of 5) battle.

The battles this year, particularly for the Queen title, were especially intense. The reigning Queen, Yamazoe (山添), ultimately lost to Inoue (井上), but each of the matches was a nail-biter. Many of them came to unmeisen (運命戦, “sudden death”), where each player is down to their last card. The Meijin battle finished in three consecutive wins for Kawase (川瀬), keeping is title.

Even if you’re not an expert player karuta player, it’s pretty fun to watch. I watched the first few matches with fellow karuta players on Discord (invite here), and we had a great time.

Also, it’s neat to see the best of the best play, learn some good techniques, and see the tradition of the Hyakunin Isshu live on for another generation.

Interview with Karuta Peru Club: History of the Hyakunin Isshu

Hello readers,

Recently I mentioned an upcoming interview with the Karuta Peru Club via Steph, a fellow karuta player.

I am happy to report that we finished our interview and it is available on YouTube!

Also available on Spotify in podcast form:

In this episode, Steph and I mostly discuss the history of the blog, but then talk about some of my favorite historical figures in the Hyakunin Isshu, such as Sugawara no Michigan’s (poem 24) and Lady Izumi (poem 56), among other things. It was a fun conversation and Steph was a terrific host.

I do sometimes use the word “um” a lot, especially when I am a bit nervous (this was my first interview), but I hope viewers and listeners learn something new, and enjoy the conversation too!

In the next episode, we plan to focus more on our experiences playing kyōgi Karuta (competitive karuta). Stay tuned!

Big thanks to Steph for making all this happen. 🎉

P.S. books cited in the interview (non-Amazon links below):

I “Dew” Love You: Manyoshu Poem 88

This is a great example of a poem that’s very beautiful and sincere, yet also carries a darker history.

Original
Manyogana1		Modern
Japanese		RomanizationRough
Translation3
秋田之秋の田のAki no ta noLike the
穂上尒霧相穂の上に霧らふ うHo no é ni kiraumorning dew atop
朝霞朝霞Asakasumirice plant buds,
何時渡邊乃方二何処辺の方にItsue no kata niwhenever will my
我戀将息わが恋ひい止まむんWaga koi yamanlove for you evaporate?

This poem was composed by the wife of Emperor Nintoku, Iwanohimé no Ōkisaki (磐姫皇后) in the 4th century. Emperor Nintoku was a semi-legendary Emperor2 who was known for his sagacity and for his very long reign. They are both interned in famous Kofun mausoleums, Nintoku in Osaka (shown below), and Iwanohime in Nara:

Copyright © National Land Image Information (Color Aerial Photographs), Ministry of Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism, Attribution, via Wikimedia Commons

Empress Iwanohime was a very devoted wife, and wrote many other love poems to Nintoku as collected in the Manyoshu. Another example here is here, book 2, poem 85:

Original
Manyogana4		Modern
Japanese		RomanizationRough
Translation
君之行君が行きKimi ga yukiYour imperial outing
氣長成奴日長くなりぬKenagaku narinuhas gone on rather long, hasn’t it?
山多都祢山尋ねYama tazunéShall I come out
迎加将行迎へえか行かむMukae ka yukanto meet you?
待尒可将待待ちにか待たむんMachi ni kamatanOr, shall I wait for your return?

This poem sounds rather playful, and Iwanohime evidentially misses her husband and longs to see him again soon.

However, my book on the Manyoshu explains that the Iwanohime was also very clingy and jealous, since Nintoku had a frequent tendency to sleep around. In one infamous story recorded in the Kojiki, Nintoku slept with his own half-sister, Yata no Himémiko (八田皇女), while Iwanohime was away on family business. When she found out, she was quite furious and returned to her ancestral home, and refused to see him later when he apologized. Later, when Iwanohime passed away, Nintoku married that half-sister.

At first glance, Iwanohime’s poetry to Nintoku feels like a case of love and devotion, but given the stormy relationship they had, my book on the Manyoshu strongly implies that these poems also betray a sense of clingy desperation too.

P.S. Apologies for the terrible pun in the title. 😋

1 Sources: http://manyou.plabot.michikusa.jp/akinotano-honoheni.html and https://manyo-hyakka.pref.nara.jp/db/detailLink?cls=db_manyo&pkey=88

2 As noted in this post, the rulers of old “Yamato” were not actually Emperors are retroactively called emperors in later history since it is a single, continuous lineage with the modern Imperial family.

3 Apologies for any mistakes here.

4 Sources: https://manyo-hyakka.pref.nara.jp/db/detailLink?cls=db_manyo&pkey=85 and https://jti.lib.virginia.edu/japanese/manyoshu/Man2Yos.html and http://manyou.plabot.michikusa.jp/manyousyu2_90.html

Love Triangles and Forbidden Fields: Manyoshu Book 1, Poem 20

Now that the year is winding down, I have had time to catch up on some personal projects, and that includes watching the anime Chihayafuru. In season one episode 12, I was surprised to see one of the characters recite a poem, not from the Hyakunin Isshu, but from the Manyoshu, so I wanted to share it here:

Original
Manyogana1		Modern
Japanese		RomanizationTranslation
茜草指あかねさすAkanesasuThe crimson sunset
武良前野逝紫野行きMurasaki no yukisets these forbidden fields
標野行標野行きShime no yukiaglow.
野守者不見哉野守は見ずやNomori wa mizuyaWave not,
君之袖布流君が袖振るKimi ga sodé furufor the guards might find us.
Translation provided by Chihayafuru

This poem was composed by Princess Nukata (額田王, Nukata no Ōkimi), who was the wife of Emperor Tenji (who composed poem 1 in the Hyakunin Isshu). According to Chihayafuru, Princess Nukata had formerly been married to Tenji’s younger brother, Prince Oama (大海人皇子, Ōama no Miko). Although they had separated, Prince Oama snuck into the Emperor’s lands and waved to her. She was worried that they would be seen, hence the poem.

But, here’s where things get interesting: Princess Nukata recited this poem at a banquet attended by her husband, Tenji, and her ex-husband Prince Oama. What’s going on?

My book on the Manyoshu provides further context. Prince Oama and Emperor Tenji had a …. complicated relationship. Tenji was ambitious and wanted to strengthen his own family lineage, so he pressured Prince Oama to marry his daughter Princess Unonosarara better known as Empress Jito (poem 2 of the Hyakunin Isshu). Tenmu was thus forced to marry his own niece. Further, Tenji designated Prince Oama as his heir until much later when he finally gave birth to a son. Later, after Tenji’s passing, the son was made Emperor briefly, but Prince Oama quickly raised an army and marched on the capitol and became the next Emperor, Tenmu.

Nonetheless, this poem is brilliant because of the visual imagery, but also relatable feeling of unresolved feelings towards someone you still care about.

But as we shall see, the story doesn’t end there… stay tuned.

1 Source: https://art-tags.net/manyo/one/m0020.html and https://tankanokoto.com/2019/04/nukata.html

Upcoming Podcast Interview

Dear Readers,

I am happy to report that I’ll be appearing in a podcast about the Hyakunin Isshu and Karuta coming up in a few weeks! It is exciting to collaborate with a fellow karuta player, “Steph”, who hosts the Karuta Chat podcast.

(Also available on Apple Podcast and many other feeds too)

I’ll have more details soon, but it will be a chance to share my experiences with the Hyakunin Isshu, karuta and more with a wider audience. If you’d like to know, I hope you’ll consider giving the Karuta Chat podcast a listen.

Playing Karuta Solo Has Its Benefits

Having played Karuta now for three months and against a variety of opponents, including computer opponents, I realize that I get otetsuki (お手付き, “penalties”) a lot. Like, a lot.

In one in-person game, I was nervous and got eight penalties which is simply painful. Even when playing against the computer on hard mode, I get 2-4 penalties at a time.

I had 4 this particular game (the red X’s shown). 🤦🏼‍♂️

Anyhow, after finishing some other long-term projects recently, I’ve been investing time to practice karuta, and to grow and develop my skills. One of my big goals has been to reduce penalties as much as possible, and so after some introspection, I realized that my biggest issue, besides being nervous and jumpy, is that i don’t pay attention enough to the reader.

As folks who have been following the blog know, the key to playing karuta is to know the kimari-ji syllables, those first, unique syllables each poem has to distinguish from other poems. Until you hear those syllables, you can not be 100% sure which poem is being read, and if you guess wrong, you get a penalty. Sometimes, I got lucky and guessed correctly, obviously though, sometimes I guessed wrong.

Memorizing the kimari-ji is the first step. You also have to recognize them when you hear them, and hopefully faster than your opponent.

I decided this month that I wanted to invest more time in discipline and listening skills, and less on speed, so I have switched to playing “solo mode” on the online karuta app. There are other ways to do this of course, but the point is that I am playing against a “goldfish”.

Why a goldfish?

A “goldfish” is a term in Magic: The Gathering, for when you are practicing against a completely passive opponent. They are there, but do nothing. Like a goldfish. 🐠

If you play solo mode on the online karuta app, you are not pressed for time. You can slow down, pay attention to the reader, and then take the card when you recognize it. It is also a good way to catch your bad habits, test your different card arrangements, etc. It’s a surprisingly handy tool for improving your game.

Also, it’s a great way to analyze your play style. when playing “solo mode” against the computer, I still got jumpy and took a penalty.

Further, as your listening improves, your speed will gradually improve, but it does require a touch of patience, and a willingness to sacrifice speed over accuracy. I need this. My accuracy is poor, and speed cannot fix that. If I don’t play more accurately, I will continue to suffer loss after loss.

Even when I practice fuda-nagashi drills, I realized that I had to slow down a bit, or I would mis-identify cards again. It’s important to recall cards quickly, but if you mis-identify a card, then it’s not worth it. Better to accurately recall the correct kimari-ji, even if slower.

So, if you are learning karuta, and you feel like you are struggling, stop, backtrack, slow down, and focus on playing good karuta, not fast karuta. With a bit of time and patience, it should pay for itself.

P.S. Special thanks to the crew on the Competitive Karuta Discord group (Discord invite link here) for their helpful advice, much of which was incorporated in this blog post. ☺️

The Kōrin Karuta Collection

On a quiet Saturday afternoon, the first in a long time, I caught up on some reading and continued to read through my book about the Hyakunin Isshu (mentioned here): the Hyakunin Isshu Daijiten.

In one chapter, the book discussed a special artistic collection of the Hyakunin Isshu called the Kōrin Karuta collection (kōrin karuta, 光琳カルタ) which was painted by the famous artist Ogata Kōrin (尾形光琳, 1658-1716). The featured image above is one of his famous paintings depicting irises in a field (Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons).

I had a hard time finding available images of the Ogata Kōrin collection of cards, but you can see an example at the Tengu-do homepage. There’s a few things that make this collection noteworthy among the long history of the Hyakunin Isshu….

First, the cards use a gold background, instead of white or off-color white. If you look at Ogata’s other paintings, this is a common technique that he used, so it makes sense.

Second, and more significantly, the torifuda cards are painted as well. Whereas the yomifuda cards have portraits of the poets (with some subtle details we’ll talk about below), modern torifuda cards only have the text on them. Ogata decorated the torifuda cards using scenes that matched the poem.

For example, poem 100 (ももしきや) is shown here on the Tengu-do website. The corresponding torifuda card shows the eaves of a palace since the poem is about the declining condition of the Imperial palace amidst political strife. Poem 35 (ひとはいさ) is shown here. Since the poem is about the first cherry blossoms in spring, the torifuda card depicts cherry blossoms. And so on.

Third, the cards were larger in size than a standard karuta card used today. Perhaps the cards were not meant for playing, but as a medium of art.

Also, I realized that the illustrations of the poets looked awfully familiar. My first karuta set uses the same Ogata illustrations, even though the torifuda are not illustrated, and the card background is plain white versus the original gold color.

Even the paintings of the authors has some pretty interesting qualities to them. Using my own set, let’s take a look at a few notable quirks.

First, the “emperor” cards (cards where the poet was a reigning or retired emperor) have them seated on a straw mat with a brocade edge, a sign of authority. None of the other poets have this, even if the poet was a high ranking officials in the court. Here are the cards for Kōkō Tennō (“Emperor Koko”, poem 15) and Juntoku-in (“Retired Emperor Juntoku”, poem 100):

Second, while most poets’ faces are visible, the card for Shokushi Naishinnyo (“Imperial Princess Shokushi”, poem 89) completely hides her face. Why is that?

Evidentially, Princess Shokushi was quite beautiful, and Ogata didn’t want to leave her open to criticism or scrutiny, so he hid her face to protect. In some versions of the Kōrin Karuta set, Ono no Komachi’s (poem 9) face is also hidden.

The Kōrin Karuta collection isn’t the only famous illustration of the Hyakunin Isshu, and in time I hope to highlight others.

Personal Growth

After playing some recent matches with the good folks at the Competitive Karuta Club (Discord invite link here), and also in person with the Seattle Karuta Club, I realized that, as of writing, I’ve been learning to play for 11 weeks. It felt longer somehow. I even double-checked the calendar and, sure enough, it has only been eleven weeks from my very first karuta experience.

In that time I have managed to memorize all 100 kimari-ji. It wasn’t always easy, and I recall some of them faster than others, but practicing fuda-nagashi does help.

Further, I haven’t won a single match yet (online or in person), but I feel like more confident than before, am more aware of my opponents card arrangement (tei’ichi 定位置), sometimes able to keep track of cards that have already been read, and even take a few cards now and then. My rate of penalties is still higher than I like, but that’s still a work in progress.

In short, I have grown as a Karuta player. Not a lot, but it’s nice to look back and actually see progress.

Using the analogy Fire Emblem: Three Houses again, if I may,* there is a part of the story where your students have the option to face the dreaded Death Knight. Unless your student’s name is Lysithea, very few characters can defeat the Death Knight without considerable luck and strategy. It’s not that the characters are weak, they’re just not ready. So the game encourages you to know your limits, and just skip if you’re not prepared. Much later in the game, when your characters are much stronger, you will encounter the Death Knight again and have a much better chance to emerge victorious.

In the same way, battling an advanced player in Karuta probably won’t result in victory, but those little incremental wins, each card taken, each penalty avoided, is still a sign of growth.

As a game, karuta is more difficult to learn upfront compared to things like Magic: the Gathering, Pokemon TCG, etc. However, once you pass that hurdle, it becomes a game you can carry with you the rest of your life. You don’t have to keep buying new sets of cards, dealing with “power creep” with new card sets, etc. The 100 poems of the Hyakunin Isshu have been around for centuries and will continue to be around for many more. The more you play, the more your skills refine. There’s no rush, come as you are, enjoy the poems, learn a little bit each time.

Finding a community of players isn’t always easy, but the budding international community continues to grow and we are always welcoming new people.

If you’re unsure, feel free to take the plunge anyway. Hopefully, you’ll be glad you did. I was.

P.S. featured photo taken at Ryonaji temple in Kyoto, Japan, in summer of 2023.

* the best part of owning your own blog is that you can write whatever silly stuff you want. 😋 Also, if you own a Switch, please try FE:3H. It’s a pretty neat game.

Hello, Won’t You Tell Me Your Name? Manyoshu Poem 1

This is the opening poem of the Manyoshu, Japan’s earliest poem anthology, an anthology that a few early Hyakunin Isshu poets also contributed too.

Original
Manyogana1		Modern
Japanese		Romanization
籠毛與籠（こ）もよKo mo yo
美籠母乳み籠（こ）持ちMiko mochi
布久思毛與掘串（ふくし）もよFukushi mo yo
美夫君志持み掘串（ぶくし）持ちMibukushi mochi
此岳尓この丘にKono oka ni
菜採須兒菜摘（なつ）ます児（こ）Natsu masu ko
家吉閑名家聞かなIe kikana
告紗根名告（なの）らさねNanorasane
虚見津そらみつSoramitsu
山跡乃國者大和（やまと）の国はYamato no kuni ha
押奈戸手おしなべてOshinabete
吾許曽居われこそ居（お）れWare koso ore
師吉名倍手しきなべてShiki nabete
吾己曽座われこそ座（ま）せWare koso mase
我許背齒われにこそはWare ni koso wa
告目告（の）らめNorame
家呼毛名雄母家をも名をもIe wo mo na wo mo
1 Manyogana and pronunciation source

Due to length and complexity of poem, plus it’s very old Japanese, I can only offer a rough translation (based on modern Japanese ones) like so:

A basket. The beauty holding the basket. A digging tool (lit. a spatula-like tool). The beauty holding the digging tool. You who are on the hill gathering vegetables, tell me, what family do you come from? Do you not know? I am the sovereign of this land (lit. Yamato, old name for Japan), and that every corner is under my dominion? So, tell me, what is your family’s name and origin?

This poem was composed by Emperor Yūryaku, who reigned in the 5th century, before recorded history. Technically, the title of “Emperor” was not used by ancestors of the Japanese imperial family at this time, and was later implemented by the time of Emperor Tenmu, brother of Tenji (poem 1), but this is a retroactive title. At this time, Yūryaku and others of the lineage were more like great kings (daiō 大王). Interestingly, although this point in Japanese history is pretty murky, Yūryaku is mentioned on a dedication inscribed on an ancient sword, providing historical evidence that he did in fact exist.

Yūryaku was described in early historical documents as a strong ruler, who slew his brothers following the death of the last king/emperor to get to his position. In later years, he helped consolidate power, but also was described as tyrannical as well.

The poor girl whom the poem was addressed to probably wasn’t in any position to say “no”, in any case.

The reason why I posted this poem is two-fold.

First, this poem is noticeably different than the tanka (短歌, “short poem”) style poems of the Hyakunin Isshu. This is a chōka (長歌, “long poem”) style poem. Tanka poems, including all poems of the Hyakunin Isshu, follow the style of 5-7-5-7-7 syllables. Chōka poems were 5-7-5-7-5-7…..5-7-7 syllables, with as many 5-7 syllable verses as needed. The Manyoshu has both formats, but by the time of the Hyakunin Isshu, the chōka format had fallen out of favor, probably because it was simply too long and difficult to fire off verses quickly.

Yūryaku’s poem doesn’t fit the chōka format very closely though, so it’s hard to say how strict poetry was back then. Over the centuries, and by the time we get towards the end of the Hyakunin Isshu, the style poetry had definitely solidified into a very rigid format with many specific rules, customs, and phrases. Yūryaku’s poem reflects an earlier, looser style of poetry. Or, as a powerful sovereign, maybe he just didn’t care. Who’s to say?

Second, the tone of the poem (ignoring the power-imbalance between him and the girl1) is a very lighthearted and romantic tone. Early poems in the Hyakunin Isshu tended to have a similar tone, but gradually the tone tended to get more somber centuries later as the aristocratic culture came to an end. Compare poems 95-100 to poem 1-5 in the Hyakunin Ishsu, and you’ll see what I mean. Yūryaku’s poem definitely belongs to this earlier, more bucolic time.

Anyhow, it’s interesting how poetry reflects history as well.

1 When you look at Lady Murasaki’s diary as well, when Michinaga makes a pass at one of the servant girls, it’s strongly implied a visit later will certainly follow. Again, women back then had less agency, and would have been hard-put to say no to powerful, ambitious men like that.