Hello and welcome to the history of Japan podcast, episode 446. In Days of Old, there was a man.

To get the obvious out of the way, this is the first podcast I'm recording in the wake of the assassination of former Prime Minister Abbe Shinzal.

I've gotten a lot of requests over the last few days to do something on this, and I definitely

will at some point, though I am undecided on what I want to do between a full episode or

something shorter like the Patreon newsletter. However, regardless of what I do, I do want to

give this a few weeks. I am not a journalist, and breaking news is not my

specialty. I'd like some time for the dust to settle before I start trying to think through

what this all means. Plus, it seems like some of the facts of the matter are still unclear. New

details are still being revealed as we speak. So, long story short, yes, something is coming, no, I have not decided exactly what

or exactly when.

Now, let's get on with the show.

On this podcast, over our run together, we've covered many of the great stories of Japanese

literature, from the moon princess Kagia and the tale of the the bamboo cutter to the cutting sarcasm of Seishonagon, from

the meandering pessimism of Kamono Cholme to the nostalgic romanticism of the

Warriors of the Tale of Heike.

But there's one classic of Japanese literature we haven't really dealt with at all,

chiefly because it is, in my opinion, one of the most challenging ones to get a grasp on at all.

The story in question would be Isay Monogatari, variously translated as the Tales of Isay

or the Isay Stories.

In its original form, Isay Monogatari likely dates back to the 800s or so of the common era,

but it's hard to be sure of that or much else.

The authorship of the stories, or even the timing of some of them,

...