Learning Karuta For Fun

My journey with the game of Karuta began one August day in 2023 with the kind folks at a local karuta club, and right away I loved the game. However, over time, I realized that the competitive style of karuta, like you see in the anime Chihayafuru, was not for me. The constant pressure to grind out game after game to make incremental improvements, especially as a working parent with little time or energy for such endeavors, made me feel increasingly hopeless about making any real gains.1 Finally, with my children getting older, and one of them graduating, I had to take a long break from karuta. It just wasn’t fun anymore.

Recently, I’ve been playing again with a small informal group where we just mess around a bit, and play shorter Karuta games using the casual format. This is how most Japanese people play in Japan, by the way.

Thus, I wanted to share my experiences lately with readers in hopes that they may find ways to keep enjoying karuta, or help introduce it to people outside of Japan who didn’t learn it in grade school.

For starters, I ordered this 5-color Hyakunin Isshu set online from the good people at Oishi Tengudo last year,2 and after using the set a few times, I finally realized this five-color set is different than the more well-known version sold in Japan. It uses different colors, and divides the cards differently. My karuta reader apps were not set to recite poems according to Oishi Tengudo groupings, so I was really confused at first.

Using my favorite karuta reader app, Wasuramoti (Android and iOS), I decided to make custom lists based on the Oishi Tengudo groupings. You can do this too in Wasuramoti by selecting Advanced Config, then Set of Poem:

In the Oishi Tengudo set, the “red” group (also called Group A), is comprised of poems whose kimari-ji (starting syllables) start with む (mu), す (su), め (me), せ (se), う (u), つ (tsu), し (shi), も (mo), ゆ (yu), ち (chi), and ひ (hi). These cards have very few or no tomofuda (cards with similar kimari-ji), so they’re distinct and easy to learn first. I created my custom list with 20 cards, just like my physical set.

I made a similar custom list for Group B (“blue”) as well. This group is a bit harder because it includes cards whose kimari-ji have slightly more tomofuda cards (3-4): い (i), み (mi), た (ta), and こ (ko). So, there’s a bit more effort required to distinguish one card from another. Yet it’s still the second easiest group.

… and so on.

When I practice, I just grab the color I want to play (“red”, or Group A in this case) and scatter then on my desk, casual-style.

Then in the Wasuramoti app, I select the group of poems I want (see above), set the app to display the torifuda, same as cards on my desk, and set the reader to “auto” mode so it doesn’t stop with each poem. I just want to see if I can recognize the poem before too late. I don’t care very much about speed.

It is fun to play this way. I can finish a game pretty quickly (roughly ten minutes) and it is not very exhausting. Since I chose the easiest set of cards first, I remembered many of them pretty quickly despite the long hiatus, which was gratifying.

This format of playing smaller sets of cards, with optional levels of difficulty, and no threat of penalties, seems to be a great way to introduce to new players as well. I was happy to see that a new player, who had experience with Japanese language, quickly pick up the game, took a few cards of her own, and had a great time. If people aren’t having a great time, why play karuta?

Karuta is super fun, and a great game to enjoy throughout one’s life. However, if you are struggling, don’t blame yourself. Instead, find what you enjoy about karuta, pick a more gentle format, and focus on that, not what the A-rank players are doing.

Happy gaming!

1 The final nail in the coffin was when I joined some online communities which I soon realized were very focused on competition, and very little on actually enjoying the culture of the Hyakunin Isshu. It was just another sport, with physical training regimens, and techniques to edge out your opponent. That is not why I created this blog back in 2011, and not why I continue to enjoy the Hyakunin Isshu now. I had left the world of competitive card games behind when I quit playing Magic the Gathering before the Pandemic, and didn’t want to resume.

2 They only ship in Japan as far as I can tell, and with tariffs making things more expensive, it might be hard to get outside of Japan. Thus, I am adding a new index page for five-color Hyakunin Isshu to help readers make their own sets

Why Learn the Kimari-ji

Lately, I’ve been having some fun conversations with coworkers introducing them to the Hyakunin Isshu, and while describing the poems, I realized that learning the kimari-ji of each poem is a handy way to keep track of which poem is which. When I first learned the Hyakunin Isshu way back in the early days of this blog, I tried to learn the poems by number. They are listed in numerical order in many publications, so this made sense.

However, many publications in Japan also list the poems by their kimari-ji too.

But if you’re not playing karuta (casual or competitive) why bother? Think Michael Jackson.

The album cover for Michael’s Jacksons Thriller, courtesy of Wikipedia.

Michael Jackson’s songs are tremendously famous. As soon as I say out loud, “Eddie are you OK?”, or “Billie Jean”, anyone listening beyond a certain age range will know how to finish the next lyric. It’s not necessary to know the whole song, simply knowing a key lyric triggers the rest of the song, or at least recognition of the song.

Think of kimari-ji the same way. Since the Hyakunin Isshu was meant to be a compilation of the very 100 best waka poems in Japanese antiquity (as chosen by Fujiwara no Teika), you can think of them as a “Best of Michael Jackson” album collection.

Thus, rather than remembering poem 29 it may be easier to remember it as the ko-ko-ro-a poem since the first line starts with that verse (kokoro até ni), and that’s enough to distinguish itself from other poems.

How To Recite the Hyakunin Isshu Like a Pro

If you’re here reading the blog, chances are you like the poetry of the Hyakunin Isshu. Who doesn’t? Maybe you like it so much, you’ve tried to memorize your favorite poems too (I do). But what’s better than memorizing your favorite poems? Reciting them!

When I first learned to play karuta, I realized that poems of the Hyakunin Isshu are recited in a specific style in Japanese. This is necessary for the players to hear clearly, but also reflects a traditional singing method for reciting waka poetry.1 Even on kids shows about Japanese language, when waka or haiku are recited, they’re recited in the same way. Of course, this is not required, but it is cool to learn, and doesn’t take that much effort.

First, let’s look at this Youtube playlist of Hyakunin Isshu poems.2 In particular, let’s look at poem 2:

Poem 2, はるす

All waka poems, including the Hyakunin Isshu have five verses, and are usually written top to bottom, right to left. The poems are further divided by the first three “upper verses” (kami no ku, 上の句) and last two “lower verses” (shimo no ku, 下の句) for structured, reciting, and for games.

It really helps if you can read hiragana script, but even if not, listen to the intonation of the poem, and the way some syllables are drawn out longer (expressed above as vertical “|” lines). That’s how you recite waka poetry.

The syllables that are drawn out are not always in the same place, by the way. Poem 24 of the Hyakunin Isshu does not always match poem 2 especially the fourth verse (fourth column from the right):

Poem 24, この

Or take a look at poem 11 which has a slightly unusual format. This makes the pacing different, and affects where syllables are drawn out:

Poem 11, わたのはらや

Poem 11 is a particularly tricky poem to recite, in my opinion, but also fun because the first two lines sound really neat.

Reciting isn’t just for showing off by the way.

In my book on the Manyoshu, it talks about how many poems come alive when they are recited. This was true during Japanese antiquity, and centuries later when the Hyakunin Isshu was compiled too. There are sounds and expressions that have a nice ring to them and it’s not always apparent if you are just reading the poem in your mind. For example poem 3 of the Hyakunin Isshu uses a lot of “no” (の) sounds that come alive when recited aloud:

Poem 3, あし

Another example is poem 58 which simply has a nice ring to it:

Poem 58, ありま

Anyhow, unless you’re training to be a professional yomité reader in karuta, it’s not necessary to master reciting all 100 poems, or to even sound this nice. However, if you have a handful of poems you like, learning to master the recitation is a great way to bring poems to life. You can use the excellent Youtube list above, or if you are a tactile person (like me), you might consider getting a set of yomite cards like the ones sold by Oishi Tengu-do, direct link here. I purchased mine in Japan this year and enjoy flipping through them and practicing poems I like.

In truth, I am a TERRIBLE singer. I am truly tone-deaf. But, with a bit of practice you get used to the rhythm of a poem and can recite it without much effort. Some poems are easier than others (poem 11 is tough), but with a bit of practice and familiarity anyone can learn to recite their favorite poem.

1 Roughly 99% of the poems I’ve posted in this blog for the past 13 years are all waka poems. These poems almost always have a pattern of 5-7-5-7-7 syllables, as opposed to later haiku poetry that only have 5-7-5 syllables.

2 If you want to search other Youtube examples, search for 百人一首 読み上げ (reading Hyakunin Isshu aloud).

The Iroha Poem

y. One of the most famous poems across Japanese history and even contemporary culture is a poem called the Iroha. The name “iroha” comes from the first three letters of the poem “i”, “ro” and “ha”. What makes this poem famous is that it uses each hiragana syllable exactly once, and still makes an intelligible, not to mention lovely, poem.

Because of this, it was often used in pre-industrial Japan as a way to organize things. Theater rows would be organized by the order in the Iroha letters, and so were firefighter brigades in pre-modern Tokyo (a.k.a. Edo). Even modern karuta sets are organized by iroha order. I don’t mean the Hyakunin Isshu karuta that I often discuss in the blog, but more informal karuta games that kids often play. We have a few sets here at home, given to us by my in-laws for the grandkids. You can see a nice selection of Iroha karuta sets on the Okuno Karuta online store, too.a

Various karuta sets my in-laws in Japan sent us. The top one is my wife’s original Hyakunin Isshu she had from grade-school.

But I digress.

The Iroha poem’s author is unknown (more on that later), but it was originally composed in old Manyogana script, like other poems of the early Manyoshu anthology, then later in hiragana. It includes many old spellings, so it’s a bit hard to render in modern Japanese.

The poem is as follows:

ManyoganaModern JapaneseRomanizationTranslation1
以呂波耳本部止いろはにほへI ro ha ni ho he toEven the blossoming flowers
千利奴流乎和加ちりぬるをわchi ri nu ru o wa kawill eventually scatter
餘多連曽津祢那よたれそつねyo ta re so tsu ne naWho in this world shall
良牟有為能於久らむうゐのおra mu u i no o kuremain unchanged? Let us today2
耶万計不己衣天やまけふこえya ma kyo (ke fu) ko e tecross the mountains of impermanence
阿佐伎喩女美之あさきゆめみa sa ki yu me mi shiand no longer have superficial
恵比毛勢須ゑひもせe hi mo se sudreams, nor be deluded
1 adapted translation from Wikipedia, plus a few modifications of my own
2 有為 (u i) meaning “viccisitudes of life” or the impermanence of all phenomena

This poem has strong Buddhist allusions to such concepts as samsara (“the aimless wandering lifetime after lifetime”), the delusions that bind us to this existence, awakening to these delusions (e.g. “enlightenment”), and finally nirvana (“unbinding”). The poem itself shows considerable familiarity with earlier Buddhist texts such as the Perfection of Wisdom sutras, including the Heart Sutra, as well.

But I digress. Again. 😅

There are some really interesting aspects of this poem that are worth sharing. First, authorship. Given the strongly Buddhist undertones of the poem, it’s often been attributed to a famous Buddhist monk named Kukai (a.k.a. Kobo Daishi) who was a talented poet and calligrapher. Another theory states that this poem may attributed to none other than the famous court poet Kakinomoto no Hitomaro, who composed poem 3 in the Hyakunin Isshu (あしびきの).

But things get even more interesting.

Scholars have noted that if you take the last syllable of each line (highlighted above for convenience) it spells another sentence: toka (ga) nakute shisu (咎[が]無くて死す) meaning “he/she died without fault or blemish”. Another theory, mentioned in my new book, points out that the 5th column spells out ho(n) wo tsu no ko me (本を津の小女), which could mean “deliver this book to my wife in the town of Tsu”, which if taken together with the 7th column implies that “I will die without blemish, please deliver this poem to my wife”.

So, is the poem a tribute to someone else? Perhaps Kukai or Hitomaro? If so, then who wrote it, and why? Was the poem a coded message to someone who was executed for political reasons? Or was the poem simply an attempt at word-play?

We will never know, but the impact of the Iroha on Japanese poem can still be easily seen today.

a Although things like Chihayafuru and this blog tend to emphasize the competitive karuta of the Hyakunin Isshu, in reality that’s only a small subset of karuta gaming culture. Most of it is much more informal stuff you play at home with family, much like board games in Western culture, and often times doesn’t even relate to the Hyakunin Isshu. Maybe I’ll post about it some time, but thanks to grandparents in Japan, we have 4-5 sets here ranging from such subjects as places in the city of Kamakura, old folks-sayings, Japanese fairy-tales, and just really basic words in Japanese. Most of these list the cards using iroha-order, and are not related to the Hyakunin Isshu. We’ve played them with our kids from time to time, and they’re much easier than competitive karuta, though it’s still assumed you know at least some basic Japanese.

Karuta Training through Nakama-Waké

As I wrote previously, I have been spending a lot of time trying find more effective training methods for myself and for new, foreign Karuta players because of the scarcity of resources. One website that has been particularly helpful in Japanese is Karuta Club, managed by the Meijin (master player) Kawase Masayoshi and his wife.

It’s a pretty nice site and has a ton of training and resources, though almost all of it is in Japanese. There is a nice English-language introduction that is worth reading.

But for this post I wanted to focus on one particularly helpful article. This teaches a method of memorization called nakama-waké.

The method seems a bit complicated upfront but really helps in those 15 minutes (or 30 seconds on the app) when you have to memorize the board, and uses knowledge you probably already know: the kimari-ji.

Let’s look at my kimari-ji chart here. You can see how the cards are group by first syllable : “ha” cards, “tsu” cards, “ki” cards, “wa” cards and so on.

Kawase’s article suggests that after you learn the kimari-ji, next invest time memorizing how many are in each group. If you look at the chart, there are only two cards in the “tsu” (つ) group, compared to seven in the “wa” (わ) group, or 16 in the “a” (あ) group. Some groups are very large, some are very small.

Let’s use the examples of the “ha” group. From the chart we can see that there are four cards that start with “ha” (は):

Kami no Ku
(upper verses)
Shimo nu Ku
(lower verses)
Poem No.
はなさそう あらしのにわの ゆきならでふりゆくものはわかみなりけり96
はなのいろは うつりにけりな いたずらにわかみよにふるなかめせしまに9
はるすぎて なつきにけらし しろたえのころもほすてふあまのかくやま2
はるのよの ゆめばかりなる たまくらにかひなくたたむなこそをしけれ67

If we remember that the “ha” group has 4 cards total, and when you are memorizing at the start of the match, you can determine which of the four are on the board. The rest can be safely ignored as kara-fuda (“empty cards”).

This separation of similar cards (“friends”) between the ones on the board and the ones that aren’t is why this is called nakama-waké (仲間わけ): “separating friends”.

Using the online karuta app, let’s demonstrate this. Here’s a game I played earlier, using default settings: 8 cards per side, only 30 seconds to memorize. The cards are all laid out, and my opponent (the computer) and I are memorizing.

Of the four “ha” cards, I can see two on the board, highlighted in purple. The two cards are “haruno” (はるの) on my side and “harusu” (はるす) on the opponent’s side. That means the other two in the group “hanano” (はなそ) and “hanasa” (はなさ) can be totally ignored if they are read aloud. That helps me avoid accidentally taking the wrong “ha” card and getting a penalty.

While we’re here, you might notice that both “shi” (し) cards are on the board, highlighted in green: “shira” (しら) and “shino” (しの). Even better they are on my side. That means I can just put group them together and simply listen for “shi” (し). Of course, the danger is that the opponent knows this too. Position matters.

Similarly, both cards of the “tsu” (つ) group are on the board too, highlighted in red. They are on opposite sides of the board though, so I still have to be careful to distinguish which is which when read. But it also means there are no “empty” tsu cards either.

Finally, of the seven unique “one syllable” cards, only one of them is on the board: “sa” (さ) which I’ve highlighted in blue. That means I can totally ignore the other six: “mu” (む), “su” (す), “me” (め), “fu” (ふ), “ho” (ほ) and “se” (せ) if they are read.

This may seem like more work upfront, and it does take time to get used to thinking like this, but it really helps in a couple ways:

  1. Your memorization process is more structured, less haphazard, and so you can memorize a full board of 50 cards more easily.
  2. Less risk of penalties because you’re only paying attention to the cards you know are on the board per group, and disregarding the rest.

If you’re relatively new to karuta and you find this process intimidating, you can focus on smaller, easier groups of cards for now: the one, two, and three card groups. With experience, and familiarity, you can then expand to larger, more difficult groups and even use this trick with the huge “a” group.

Five Color Hyakunin Isshu Update

Hello,

If you are learning to play karuta there are plenty of resources in Japanese language, but outside of that, there’s almost nothing. This is understandable since karuta has only very recently become known outside of Japan, but it still challenging for foreign players to develop good foundations. So, although I am a casual novice myself, I try to share what I find.

One training method used in Japan, especially for children learning to play in school, is the Five Color (go-shiki, 五色) Hyakunin Isshu method. This is a way of color-coding the 100 poems of the Hyakunin Isshu into five groups of 20, based on relative difficulty to learn. I have posted about it before but didn’t have a set to try out and demonstrate.

Since I was in Japan earlier this year with the family (visiting in-laws), I decided to get a boxed set for myself. They are hard to obtain outside of Japan, and I had to order directly from the Oishi Tengudo. My package soon arrived at my in-laws house,1 and later I brought them home and opened up the box.

The set is very nicely put together. It comes in separate boxes for the reading cards, yomifuda, and corresponding the cards you take, torifuda.

Torifuda cards on the left, and yomifuda cards on the right.

Because the Five Color Hyakunin Isshu is mostly geared for children (and not nerdy middle-aged foreigners 😅), the illustrations have a cute, cartooinish quality, and the hiragana script uses a very readable font. Notice that the card borders have colors too: yellow and red in the pictures above.

Something that surprised me was that the back of the torifuda cards, which are usually not seen during play, also show the first half of the Hyakunin Isshu poems, with the kimari-ji emphasized. This saves new players the hassle of having to go and look up what the kimari-ji are.

Poem 15 shown in yellow on the left, and poem 65 in red on the right.

Also, if you get a set like this, and you use a Karuta reader app to read only that color. Many reader apps have readings sets specifically for the Five Color Hyakunin Isshu, however, the Oishi Tengudo set divides its cards differently, and so the sets in karuta apps are not the same. You have to make your own custom sets like I did here.

So, does it work as a training method? Is it worth foreign players going to the effort to getting one of these sets?

I haven’t had a chance to field-test yet, especially with new karuta players, so I don’t know. Some foreign players online have derided the five-color method, and instead advocated other learning methods (more on those in later posts), but unfortunately I don’t have enough data to say which works. Since I have already self-learned karuta (more or less), I can’t really use myself as a test.

That said, the resources above are really nice, and since they’re geared for children, they provide a nice, gentle introduction to playing karuta. You do need to read hiragana script, but if you’re intending to play karuta, you need to know hiragana anyway. It is also one way to start with learning a smaller subnet of the 100 poems, with increasing difficulty as you move between colors.

I am eager to try this out the next time I meet with the local karuta club.

1 I also ordered a yomite card set for reading purposes. I’ve written about that in a previous post.

Karuta Card Position: Teiichi

One of the first challenges when you start a game of karuta is to figure out where to put your cards. You’ve been dealt 25 torifuda cards out of 100 total (or 8 if you’re playing online) and they need to be arranged somehow in 3 rows (2 online) such that you can remember where they are, and hopefully make it harder for your opponent to take your cards.

An arrangement of cards, might look something like the picture above: 3 horizontal rows, 1cm between them, and cards arranged across these three rows usually clumped into corners.

Sounds easy … right?

Nope.

The concept of card position or tei-ichi (定位置) has plenty of strategy, and also plenty of personal habits. The first time I ever played, I didn’t know any of this and so my tei-ichi made no sense. I called it the “chaos strategy” as a joke:

It wasn’t even using the correct arrangement or spacing, but I lost 25-0 so I guess it didn’t matter. In time, my arrangement got somewhat better:

In any case, along as you adhere to the basic dimensions of the game layout, you can arrange your cards anyway you like. But also keep in mind that you have constantly remember the current board state (i.e. where every card is) because they often move around as the game progresses. This takes considerable concentration and good mastery of the kimari-ji.

During the start of the match, a lot of people, myself included, like to place their favorite cards in certain areas, or arrange them in a certain way to help relieve the pressure of memorizing so many card positions. I am told by much better players that if you play an opponent enough times you’ll start to figure out where they usually put their cards and can anticipate this (making it easier to remember board state). I have yet to reach this state.

If you watch the anime Chihayafuru1 you may recall that the chubby kid Nishida2 explains some basic tips for good tei-ichi:

  1. Keep the one-syllable kimari-ji cards on the row closest to you. SInce they are taken very quickly, that little extra bit of distance may help you.
  2. Keep the tomofuda (友札) cards, the ones with similar kimari-ji, separate from each other. We’ll get to that in a moment.

These are merely suggestions though. Some players seem to prefer to a more offensive style of play, where they focus more on getting their opponent’s cards and less on their own card arrangement. Other players prefer a more defensive style where they focus on taking their own cards first, and making it as difficult for the opponent as possible.

A very common strategy I see for new and veteran players is to keep your tomofuda together (despite Nishida saying not to). For example, if I have the two cards starting with kono (poem 24) and konu (poem 97) as their kimari-ji, I might go ahead and keep them together. That way, I know where all my “ko” cards are. If I also have koi, then I might put all 3 together.

On the one hand, it’s easier for me to remember. On the other hand, your opponent will likely notice this too, and it makes their job easier.

You can also do as Nishida suggests and intentionally keep them separate. More work for you, but also more work for them.

Notice too that people often keep their cards towards the left and right edges. As with the single-syllable kimari-ji, that extra bit of distance makes it harder for your opponent to reach over and take the card before you do. In close games every bit counts.3

By the way, it is possible, within certain rules and customs, to rearrange cards into new positions during the match. People often do this in the late game when they have only 3-4 cards left and just want to clump them into a single spot, but this is a personal choice. I am told that moving your cards too often is frowned upon. However, if a card in between others was taken, it’s quite alright to shuffle the remaining cards on the row to the edges to take its place (keeping everything neat and tidy).

Since I am kind of a lousy player, I am not adverse to sharing my strategy here, but keep in mind that it is neither expert strategy, nor is it static. It changes and evolves as I gain more experience.

Because of my experience with Japanese language, I like to arrange mine based on columns of the hiragana syllabary, not so much tomofuda:

Chart courtesy of User:Pmx, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

For example, if I have cards that start with “a” or “i” kimari-ji, for example, I’ll lump them together since they’re in the same column of the hiragana chart. I often group “yo”, “ya” and “yu” together similarly. Of course, I often have tomofuda among them, but that’s not always the case. I have areas where I almost always lump the “a”-row cards, the “ya”, “wa”, and “mi” cards, the “o” cards and so on. It can vary quite a bit depending on which cards I get at the start of the game, but I’ve definitely evolved some habits, for better or worse.

If I have too many cards like this, then I might break them up into two groups so they don’t clump too much. If I get seven “a”-row cards, it’s a bit silly to keep “all my eggs in one basket”.

I do follow Nishida’s advice and keep my one-syllable cards in the corners, but that’s almost a universal strategy, I’ve noticed. Even if you’re reflexes aren’t great, that extra little bit of distance away from your opponent can help.

Further, sometimes, if there’s a card that I am pretty comfortable with, such as the ooe card (poem 60), wasura (Poem 38), or shira (poem 37), I like to isolate it in the middle of the back row. It’s very easy for me to grab, and its unique position is easy for me to remember. Sometimes I do that with the iconic chiha card (poem 17) as well, though it rarely works for me. Of course, this strategy sometimes backfires too.

Thus far, we’ve talked a lot about starting positions. Let’s talk about things moving around.

As cards move around either due to penalties, or because a card from the opponent’s side was taken, things will move around. This can make things hard to remember when you’ve barely got a grasp on where the cards were previously, and that can lead to penalties. One advice I found in Japanese was to send cards to your opponent that have lots of impact (i.e. easy to remember), so you have an easier time remembering the new board state. You can also send tomofuda cards to your opponent so that they are forced to keep them together, or keep them separate. You can also break up your own tomofuda this way.

In any case, as gameplay continues, I try to scan and rescan the board state over and over again to refresh the current card positions. I even close my eyes and try to remember the board state in my mind without any visual distractions. I found closing my eyes to be especially helpful. I think in Chihayafuru, the kids even played a game where the cards were face-down, so the entire game was done from memory. I haven’t tried this yet, but might try it with a smaller set of cards someday.

Based on limited experience, I have noticed that if I stay focused and keep re-scanning the board state over and over, while paying close attention to what the reader is reciting, I tend to play better. When I lose focus, everything goes off the rails.

So, initial card position is something important to consider, but even more important is updating that “mental map”, and of course good listening skills.

Good luck!

P.S. This is pretty amateur advice, so take this with a grain of salt.

1 To be honest, I never finished season one of Chihayafuru. I watch plenty of Japanese TV, but I just don’t watch anime very much. I don’t really watch Ghibli movies either. However, in a feat of hypocrisy, I love Fire Emblem: Three Houses.

2 I forget his English nickname, but his Japanese nickname is Nikuman-kun where nikuman are just the Japanese version of Chinese hum-bao. Anyhow, you probably know the guy, right? Right? 😅

3 If you’re playing against me though, you’re probably going to win. I think my win rate is about 2-3% thus far.

Progress At Long Last

I started playing Karuta last August with the Seattle Karuta Club, and from time to time I play the computer on the Karuta online app. There’s been a lot of ups and downs in my life, but I’ve tried to stay focused and practice when time allows.

However until today I was never able to beat the hard mode on the Karuta app. At first, I played the easy or solo modes for a long time, afraid to get demolished. I eventually moved up to medium difficulty for a time and got used to it.

But every time I play hard mode, I get destroyed. I get nervous, get penalties, and lose track of where cards are because I am thinking too much about losing.

Finally, I won a match. I made a single penalty (oku vs. ogu) and yet otherwise everything else went surprisingly smooth for me. I even got three of the one-character kimarji cards (se, fu and mu) which I usually struggle with.

It was weird.

For once, I was relaxed and focused on where each card was. My mind was clear. Everything just clicked. In spite of the penalty, I played solid Karuta and won.

I guess practice really does make perfect.

Thank you, Byleth. 😋

Tips for Being the Yomite: the Karuta Reader

Author’s note: this draft was nearly complete before I had to go to the hospital in February. I decided to post as-is even if it is a bit late.

At a recent meeting of the Seattle Karuta Club, I tried my hand at being the yomité (読み手), the card reader.

The game of Karuta traditionally requires three people to play: two opponents and one person, the yomité, to read the full poem cards, the yomifuda.

Reading the cards is not just a matter of reading aloud, there’s a certain style and method to it. Plus you need to be able to read hiragana smoothly, including the weird spellings. Further you have to be clear enough that players know precisely which card to take.

Usually, Karuta players overseas just use one of several reader apps, but in Japan, Karuta matches usually have a yomité when possible. It’s a handy skill to learn if possible, even if you are musically tone-deaf like me.

This featured photo is me starting the match. I was quite nervous since it was my first time, and have a terrible singing voice. I don’t say that to be modest; I am genuinely a bad singer.

Right away, I found I could read the text easily enough, but I didn’t project my voice, or enunciate the kimari-ji properly. Halfway through the match I “found my groove” and my reading improved but I still needed practice.

Learning to read Karuta cards does not take long to learn, but learning to read well takes time.

This page in Japanese focuses on learning to read Karuta cards. It even includes a video (Japanese only)

Source: https://www.karuta.or.jp/karuta/reading/

The good news is that there are tools for non-Japanese as well if you know where to look.

This set above (product link here), made by Oishi Tengu-dō is designed specifically for reading:

In red, the kimari-ji is shown, and the text of the poem includes rhythm clues (the lines and arrows) where you should elongate the syllable, for example. Each poem has a slightly different rhythm. It’s not the same pattern with every poem. So, you definitely have to practice each poem and how to recite them.

In the end, taking turns as the yomité is a nice way to share responsibility, and even Japanese is not your first language, you can pick it up with a bit of time and effort.

Being able to recite your favorite poem the traditional way is also a neat skill to learn anyway.

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!