Rearranging the Landscape of the Gods: The Politics of a Pilgrimage Site in Japan, 1573-1912 (review)

With the publication of Rearranging the Landscape of the Gods, scholars and students of Japanese history, religions, politics, and society now have a wonderfully nuanced study that brings to life some major political transitions over a 350-year period. Although the focus is on a single religious institution—known today as Kotohira or Konpira Shrine on the island of Shikoku—Sarah Thal's scholarship and storytelling skills create a fascinating and richly rendered portrait that shows how the "history of the shrine can be seen as a concentration of larger forces in history" (p. 314).

To introduce the complexities of the site's geography, the opening chapter positions the reader alongside a samurai on pilgrimage in 1858. Taking excerpts from his travel journal, Thal recounts his approach, ascension, and worship before the powerfully efficacious deity Konpira Daigongen. As he approaches the main sanctuary, we gain a sense of how this mountain temple complex is organized in symbolic layers that reinforce ritual, spatial, and visual distinctions enhancing the power of the gods. A sense of "mystery, seclusion, and supernatural power" is created (p. 25) that, as Thal demonstrates in subsequent chapters, appeals to a broad range of social classes no matter how the political winds blow.

The descriptions and discoveries of the pilgrim are interesting enough, but the introductory chapter is further enriched by 12 prints from an 1847 publication, the Konpira sankei meisho zue, as well as two contemporary photographs. This wealth of information, simultaneously descriptive, analytical, and visual, is simply delightful to digest, concluding with a helpful overview of the "unspoken assumptions" of nineteenth-century pilgrimage in Japan (p. 37). Thal demonstrates that she is clearly in control of her sources as well as enamored by both the beauty and profundity of the site itself.

Before discussing the book's contribution to and significance for the fields of history and Japan studies, a brief overview of the main chapters seems prudent. The historical record of any religious site in Japan, such as one might read on its explanatory signs or pamphlets, is the product of centuries of negotiation and editing in response to shifts in political power. Thal begins her account by identifying Konpira's esoteric Buddhist origins in 1278 when this prominent mountain (later named Zōzu) was selected as a shrine to 30 deities thought to protect the Lotus Sutra. The next recorded appearance of the site is in 1573 by a Nichiren priest who identifies Konpira as one of four important deities of Buddhism from India, then associated with the Golden Light Sutra of the Shingon school. It becomes an important site for shugendō monks traversing the sacred mountains of Shikoku.

Konpira's religious emphasis changes when a neighboring daimyo invades the region and reconfigures the temple's deities, setting the stage for strategies of renaming, realigning, and maneuvering the temple to not only adapt to political power but also capitalize on it. As various temples compete for pilgrims and support, the importance of patronage is accentuated as the Mt. Zōzu complex becomes diverse and contentious. In 1648, the main temple of Konkōin received the red seal of the shogun as a site where prayers were to be offered for the stability of the realm. For reasons not entirely clear, priests associated with the original temple to the 30 deities of the Lotus Sutra felt compelled to challenge the more recently arrived priests venerating Konpira and the Golden Light Sutra. But they badly misjudged their power and influence. Judged as insubordinate by the feudal authorities that fully supported Konpira, they, along with their wives and children, were beheaded in 1670.

This punishment might sound surprising, but the economic stakes were very high for these competing religious factions. Mt. Zōzu's location in north central Shikoku—near the shipping lanes of the Inland Sea...