These essays depict the explosion of visual arts in the Edo era (1603–1867). Although sumi-e (ink drawing) works were originally done in shades of black, colorful sumi-e really took off in the 17th century. Then bright ukiyo-e (woodblock prints) emerged, overtaking sumi-e. Ukiyo-e had implicit political content, but erotic woodblock prints also abounded. Ukiyo-e developed in tandem with tattoos that covered a great deal of the body, and many currently popular tattoo designs come from Edo-era ukiyo-e. Finally, manga go back at least to the time of the artist Hokusai (1760–1849).

In the Edo era (1603–1867), Japanese streets vibrated with sounds, spectacles, and surprises. As these essays show, peripatetic performers entertained people in all kinds of ways. Some magicians would repeatedly say something like "Abracadabra" and produce a different wooden doll each time from under a bamboo basket. Jugglers would spin plates to make their juggling performances more appealing. Candy vendors would drum up business by playing flutes while walking around. And street performers sold utensils and incense, as well as medicines, giving rise to a term that means "showman; charlatan; quack."

In the Edo period (1603–1867), audiences were spoiled for choice. As these essays show, kabuki (a dance-drama combination featuring elaborate costumes, vivid makeup, outlandish wigs, and exaggerated movements) originated in the first year of the era! Immediately popular, the comic performances depicted everyday life, eventually with suggestive themes (and was particularly fashionable in the red-light districts). Then there was joruri, storytelling done via dramatic chanting, sometimes complemented by puppet shows. Finally, Noh, a type of classical musical drama that mainly involves masked male actors, offered Edo-era citizens yet another entertaining option.

As this bundle shows, red-light districts abounded in the hedonistic Edo era (1603–1867). In fact, second-class, unauthorized pleasure quarters lay adjacent to top-class, government-authorized red-light districts. A multifaceted, euphemistic term emerged that meant "geisha quarter," "prostitute," "red-light district," and more. Prostitutes were classified as 松, 竹, and 梅, with 梅 being the lowliest and with rankings likely based on looks and lovemaking techniques! A popular play in those days featured a prostitute named 梅ヶ枝 (there's 梅 again!) driven by financial desperation. Real-life prostitutes mimicked her behavior, also inspiring one woodblock print by Kuniyoshi.

The Edo era (1603–1867) lacked standard education, but institutions formed to meet the need. Teachers ran "terakoya" (private schools) from their houses. After-hours private academies emerged, as did an Osaka school that taught Dutch studies, medicine, astronomy, and other Western sciences. Adult scholars also made great advances, enhancing a mathematical system called "sampo," inventing "enri" (a calculus-like system), and devising complex calculations with the soroban (a Japanese abacus). One expert quantified a term that means "too many grains of sand to count"! These essays explore such topics, also showing how a word for "Pythagoras' theorem" represented an imaginative leap.

The Edo era (1603–1867) was a golden age for boatbuilding, and the 掘 essay explains why: political stability led to economic stability, and the burgeoning economy prompted a need for canals to transport goods, services, and people. As the 舟 piece shows, the Japanese actually devised boats with many styles and functions, including canal and river taxis. The 峠 article asserts that wealthy people traveled via commercial ships and that companies transported most goods domestically by boat. Indeed, the 垣 essay describes an odd-looking ship used to move items between Edo (the old name for Tokyo) and Osaka.

For thousands of years, Japan was isolated and homogeneous, particularly because the Tokugawa shogunate government closed the country from 1639 to 1854. The essays on 排 and 痘 show the costs of that, including the way this policy prolonged the smallpox crisis by delaying the arrival of vaccines in Japan. The essays on 謁 and 彰 describe how both Townsend Harris (the first U.S. consul general to Japan) and Commodore Matthew Perry signed treaties to change Japan's foreign trade policies, thereby opening the country to other cultures and sparking a westernization that delighted some Japanese and dismayed others.

This bundle is your gateway to the Edo era (1603–1867). The 江 essay deeply explores the carpe diem mentality, ukiyo-e (artwork), the constant fires, the traits of Edokkos (Edo natives), Edo script, and much more. The 頃 essay portrays the period as the golden age of kabuki, comic poetry, rakugo (stories), sumo, and street performances, also illuminating the term "Big Edo." By contrast, the 埼 essay spotlights "Little Edo" (Kawagoe in Saitama) with its historic buildings and a museum depicting the lives of Edo merchants. Finally, the 栃 essay mentions a cultural theme park that re-creates the Edo era.

In the Edo era (1603–1867), the aesthetically aware Japanese began using 粋, a word representing a delicate sense of beauty. Though 乙 as "stylish" conveys something quite similar, only 粋 drives the phrase 江戸の粋, which could translate as "spirit or sophistication of Edo culture" or "understated stylishness." The 浮 essay showcases woodblock prints (which portrayed daily life, scenes in history, kabuki actors, sumo wrestlers, landscapes, erotica, and more), exploring their connection to people's hedonism. And the 賂 essay presents Edo as a hotbed of bribery. Edo residents may have viewed bribes as virtues, not vices!

During the Edo era (1603–1867), most houses were made of wood and paper, topped by thatched roofs and crowded together in cities, so fires frequently erupted, particularly in Edo. The 拍 and 瓦 essays show which measures people took as a result. Citizens patrolled neighborhoods, calling out "Beware of fire!" And Edo residents embraced ceramic roof tiles, complying with new government regulations. The other two essays show where regular folks spent their days—at barbershops and public bathhouses—both doubling as gathering places. In Edo, bathhouses also became closely associated with prostitution.

Helping a distressed animal should reap big karma points, and most folktales in this bundle reflect that view—but not all do. One man obeys an entreaty to treat animals better and finds himself handsomely rewarded. In "The Magic Tea Kettle," told here bilingually, a tanuki goes to great lengths to reward a good Samaritan with wealth. Another folktale has a similar ending, but despite a woodcutter's kindness to an injured sparrow, the old man is still tested. A final story stands as an anomaly; Taro Urashima aids a turtle and ends up punished with sudden-onset old age.

Anxiety about food scarcity bedeviled Japan for centuries. Accordingly, some folktales reflect deep concerns about starvation. In "The Stone Potatoes" (told bilingually here), someone disguised as a filthy priest begs a woman for potatoes, only for her to hoard her stash. "A Human Sacrifice in Kamashita" (presented bilingually here) depicts the gravity of having floods repeatedly destroy crops. Another essay refers to the same folktale, showing why the name "Kamashita" must have terrified people. A final essay in this collection argues that Japanese folktales often convey philosophy rather than lessons, which sheds light on the two stories.

As this bundle shows, folktales about vengeance satisfy a human craving for justice. One depicts a spurned woman, Kiyohime, whose love turns to hatred and then to homicide. Another reflects a power imbalance between a would-be rapist and his female servant, Okiku. If one sees her as having the final say, that's salve for anyone who has felt powerless. In "Kachikachiyama," a rabbit punishes a wicked tanuki, fulfilling a universal longing for good to defeat evil. The story of Momotaro's battle may reflect a desire for justice on an international scale; the folktale could symbolize struggles between Japan and Korea.