Chapter 2 No.2

BEFORE speaking further of the poetical literature of sémi, I must attempt a few remarks about the sémi themselves. But the reader need not expect anything entomological. Excepting, perhaps, the butterflies, the insects of Japan are still little known to men of science; and all that I can say about sémi has been learned from inquiry, from personal observation, and from old Japanese books of an interesting but totally unscientific kind.

Not only do the authors contradict each other as to the names and characteristics of the best-known sémi; they attach the word sémi to names of insects which are not cicad?.

The following enumeration of sémi is certainly incomplete; but I believe that it includes the better-known varieties and the best melodists. I must ask the reader, however, to bear in mind that the time of the appearance of certain sémi differs in different parts of Japan; that the same kind of sémi may be called by different names in different provinces; and that these notes have been written in Tōkyō.

I.-Haru-Zémi.

Various small sémi appear in the spring. But the first of the big sémi to make itself heard is the haru-zémi ("spring-sémi"), also called uma-zémi ("horse-sémi"), kuma-zémi ("bear-sémi"), and other names. It makes a shrill wheezing sound,-ji-i-i-i-i-iiiiiiii,-beginning low, and gradually rising to a pitch of painful intensity. No other cicada is so noisy as the haru-zémi; but the life of the creature appears to end with the season. Probably this is the sémi referred to in an old Japanese poem:-

Hatsu-sémi ya!

"Koré wa atsui" to

Iu hi yori.

-Taimu.

The day after the first day on which we exclaim, "Oh, how hot it is!" the first sémi begins to cry.

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PLATE II.

"Shinné-Shinné,

Also called Yama-Zémi, and Kuma-Zémi.

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II.-"Shinné-shinné."

The shinné-shinné-also called yama-zémi, or "mountain-sémi"; kuma-zémi, or "bear-sémi"; and ō-sémi, or "great sémi"-begins to sing as early as May. It is a very large insect. The upper part of the body is almost black, and the belly a silvery-white; the head has curious red markings. The name shinné-shinné is derived from the note of the creature, which resembles a quick continual repetition of the syllables shinné. About Kyōto this sémi is common: it is rarely heard in Tōkyō.

[My first opportunity to examine an ō-sémi was in Shidzuoka. Its utterance is much more complex than the Japanese onomatope implies; I should liken it to the noise of a sewing-machine in full operation. There is a double sound: you hear not only the succession of sharp metallic clickings, but also, below these, a slower series of dull clanking tones. The stridulatory organs are light green, looking almost like a pair of tiny green leaves attached to the thorax.]

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PLATE III.

Aburazémi.

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III.-Aburazémi.

The aburazémi, or "oil-sémi," makes its appearance early in the summer. I am told that it owes its name to the fact that its shrilling resembles the sound of oil or grease frying in a pan.

Some writers say that the shrilling resembles the sound of the syllables gacharin-gacharin; but others compare it to the noise of water boiling. The aburazémi begins to chant about sunrise; then a great soft hissing seems to ascend from all the trees. At such an hour, when the foliage of woods and gardens still sparkles with dew, might have been composed the following verse,-the only one in my collection relating to the aburazémi:-

Ano ko? dé

Tsuyu ga inochi ka?-

Aburazémi!

Speaking with that voice, has the dew taken life?-Only the aburazémi!

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PLATE IV.

1-2, Mugikari-Zémi, also called Goshiki-Zémi.

3, Higurashi.

4, "Min-Min-Zémi."

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IV.-Mugi-kari-Zémi.

The mugi-kari-zémi, or "barley-harvest sémi," also called goshiki-zémi, or "five-colored sémi," appears early in the summer. It makes two distinct sounds in different keys, resembling the syllables shi-in, shin-chi-i, chi-i.

V.-Higurashi, or "Kana-kana."

This insect, whose name signifies "day-darkening," is the most remarkable of all the Japanese cicad?. It is not the finest singer among them; but even as a melodist it ranks second only to the tsuku-tsuku-bōshi. It is the special minstrel of twilight, singing only at dawn and sunset; whereas most of the other sémi make their music only in the full blaze of day, pausing even when rain-clouds obscure the sun. In Tōkyō the higurashi usually appears about the end of June, or the beginning of July. Its wonderful cry,-kana-kana-kana-kana-kana,-beginning always in a very high clear key, and slowly descending, is almost exactly like the sound of a good hand-bell, very quickly rung. It is not a clashing sound, as of violent ringing; it is quick, steady, and of surprising sonority. I believe that a single higurashi can be plainly heard a quarter of a mile away; yet, as the old Japanese poet Yayū observed, "no matter how many higurashi be singing together, we never find them noisy." Though powerful and penetrating as a resonance of metal, the higurashi's call is musical even to the degree of sweetness; and there is a peculiar melancholy in it that accords with the hour of gloaming. But the most astonishing fact in regard to the cry of the higurashi is the individual quality characterizing the note of each insect. No two higurashi sing precisely in the same tone. If you hear a dozen of them singing at once, you will find that the timbre of each voice is recognizably different from every other. Certain notes ring like silver, others vibrate like bronze; and, besides varieties of timbre suggesting bells of various weight and composition, there are even differences in tone, that suggest different forms of bell.

I have already said that the name higurashi means "day-darkening,"-in the sense of twilight, gloaming, dusk; and there are many Japanese verses containing plays on the word,-the poets affecting to believe, as in the following example, that the crying of the insect hastens the coming of darkness:-

Higurashi ya!

Sutétéoitémo

Kururu hi wo.

O Higurashi!-even if you let it alone, day darkens fast enough!

This, intended to express a melancholy mood, may seem to the Western reader far-fetched. But another little poem-referring to the effect of the sound upon the conscience of an idler-will be appreciated by any one accustomed to hear the higurashi. I may observe, in this connection, that the first clear evening cry of the insect is quite as startling as the sudden ringing of a bell:-

Higurashi ya!

Kyō no kétai wo

Omou-toki.

-Rikei.

Already, O Higurashi, your call announces the evening!

Alas, for the passing day, with its duties left undone!

VI.-"Minmin"-Zémi.

The minmin-zémi begins to sing in the Period of Greatest Heat. It is called "min-min" because its note is thought to resemble the syllable "min" repeated over and over again,-slowly at first, and very loudly; then more and more quickly and softly, till the utterance dies away in a sort of buzz: "min-min-min-min-min-minminmin-dzzzzzzz." The sound is plaintive, and not unpleasing. It is often compared to the sound of the voice of a priest chanting the s?tras.

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PLATE V.

1, "Tsuku-tsuku-Bōshi," also called "Kutsu-kutsu-Bōshi," etc. (Cosmopsaltria Opalifera?)

2, Tsurigané-Zémi.

3, The Phantom.

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VII.-Tsuku-tsuku-bōshi.

On the day immediately following the Festival of the Dead, by the old Japanese calendar[28] (which is incomparably more exact than our Western calendar in regard to nature-changes and manifestations), begins to sing the tsuku-tsuku-bōshi. This creature may be said to sing like a bird. It is also called kutsu-kutsu-bōshi, chōko-chōko-uisu, tsuku-tsuku-hōshi, tsuku-tsuku-oīshi,-all onomatopoetic appellations. The sounds of its song have been imitated in different ways by various writers. In Izumo the common version is,-

Tsuku-tsuku-uisu,

Tsuku-tsuku-uisu,

Tsuku-tsuku-uisu:-

Ui-ōsu

Ui-ōsu

Ui-ōsu

Ui-ōs-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-su.

[28] That is to say, upon the 16th day of the 7th month.

Another version runs,-

Tsuku-tsuku-uisu,

Tsuku-tsuku-uisu,

Tsuku-tsuku-uisu:-

Chi-i yara!

Chi-i yara!

Chi-i yara!

Chi-i, chi, chi, chi, chi, chiii.

But some say that the sound is Tsukushi-ko?shi. There is a legend that in old times a man of Tsukushi (the ancient name of Kyūshū) fell sick and died while far away from home, and that the ghost of him became an autumn cicada, which cries unceasingly, Tsukushi-ko?shi!-Tsukushi-ko?shi! ("I long for Tsukushi!-I want to see Tsukushi!")

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It is a curious fact that the earlier sémi have the harshest and simplest notes. The musical sémi do not appear until summer; and the tsuku-tsuku-bōshi, having the most complex and melodious utterance of all, is one of the latest to mature.

VIII.-Tsurigané-Sémi.[29]

The tsurigané-sémi is an autumn cicada. The word tsurigané means a suspended bell,-especially the big bell of a Buddhist temple. I am somewhat puzzled by the name; for the insect's music really suggests the tones of a Japanese harp, or koto-as good authorities declare. Perhaps the appellation refers not to the boom of the bell, but to those deep, sweet hummings which follow after the peal, wave upon wave.

[29] This sémi appears to be chiefly known in Shikoku.

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