The history of the word ‘kushi’
Gaiso (外装; exterior, package), dambokigu (暖房器具; heater, stove), kiken (危険; danger, risk)… Over the past two decades, many Japanese words have been replaced by katakana terms. The word kushi (櫛, comb) is one such example. Nowadays, when referring to tools for grooming hair, the term ‘burashi (brush)’ has become far more common.
The word kushi has a long history, appearing as far back as Japan’s oldest written work, the Kojiki (古事記). Archaeological finds have confirmed that tategushi (竪櫛, vertical combs) used to secure and style hair existed as early as the Jomon period. It can be said that the comb has endured as one of the decorative items that have accompanied the Japanese people throughout history.
So, what kinds of kushi was used during the Heian period? The mid-Heian dictionary ‘Wamyo Ruijusho (倭名類聚抄)’ includes a reference to saigushi (細櫛, fine-toothed combs). Unlike earlier periods, when hair was tied up, Heian women began to wear their hair long and flowing, and these kushi were used as tools to clean and untangle their hair. At the same time, decorative kushi worn in the hair, similar to those used in earlier eras, still existed and were referred to as ‘hyakuragushi (百剌櫛)’ or ‘sashikushi (挿櫛)’.
The ‘Engishiki (延喜式)’, a legal code compiled around the same period, records that 366 kushi were crafted and presented to the imperial court each year. Remarkably, 200 of these were for the emperor, 100 for the empress, and 60 for the crown prince. These kushi were all made from ‘yūshiki (由志木)’, a type of wood known today as ‘isunoki (East Asian terebinth)’, a robust and durable evergreen hardwood. This makes perfect sense, as its strength and resilience would make it ideal for sukikushi (梳き櫛, crafting fine-toothed combs).
The ritual known as the ‘Wakare no migushi (別れの御櫛)’
Although kushi themselves have largely been replaced by brushes in everyday life, the word ‘kushi’ is still used figuratively in modern language. For example, the phrase ‘like the teeth of a broken kushi” symbolises something once beautifully aligned that has now become fragmented. Folk beliefs related to combs, such as “picking up a kushi brings bad luck’ or ‘giving a kushi as a gift severs ties,’ were commonly spoken of until just a few decades ago.
The notion of kushi being unlucky is thought to stem from the phonetic resemblance of the word ‘kushi (櫛)’ to ‘kushi (苦死; suffering and death)’. As for the association between kushi and severing ties, it appears to trace back to a ritual called the ‘wakare no okushi (別れの御櫛; comb of farewells,’ which existed during the Heian period.
In those days, it was customary at the imperial court for unmarried women of noble birth, such as the emperor’s daughters or sisters, to serve as ‘Saio (斎王/sacred maidens)’ at Ise Shrine (伊勢神宮; located in present-day Mie Prefecture). These women were generally not permitted to return to Kyoto unless the emperor abdicated or they experienced the death of a close family member. As a result, the separation between the emperor and the Saio could sometimes mean a parting for life.
Before departing for Ise, the Saio would have a final audience with the emperor. During this occasion, the emperor, dressed in white robes, would sit on a flat platform at the same level as the Saio. He would then place a boxwood kushi in her hair and utter the words, “Do not return to the capital.” This ritual, known as the ‘wakare no migushi (別れの御櫛)’, symbolised their farewell. It is reasonable to assume that the kushi used in this ceremony was not a fine-toothed kushi for grooming but rather an ornamental kushi.
For a Saio to ‘return to the capital’ meant that she had completed her duties and was on her way back from Ise. However, such a return could only occur if misfortune befell a close family member or the emperor. Thus, these words served as a kind of charm, expressing a wish for peace and stability in the world.
In the Sakaki chapter (賢木巻) of ‘The Tale of Genji’, there is a scene where Emperor Suzaku (朱雀帝), Hikaru Genji’s half-brother, attends the ‘migushi (御櫛)’ ritual for the new Saio departing for Ise. This Saio, the emperor’s cousin, is described as being just fourteen years old. Already a beautiful young girl, she appeared even more strikingly radiant when dressed appropriately for her role as Saio—so much so that her beauty seemed almost ominous. Murasaki Shikibu (紫式部) writes that the emperor, deeply moved, could not help but shed tears.
After all, this was a time when partings were far more poignant and final than they are today. One cannot help but reflect deeply on the profound significance imbued in such a simple ritual—placing a kushi and offering a few words.
A favourite of Sei Shonagon
The historical narrative ‘Ōkagami (大鏡)’, written in the late Heian period, includes an episode related to Emperor Sanjō (三条帝), who was in conflict with Fujiwara no Michinaga (藤原道長). In the ritual of the ‘wakare no migushi’, it was customary for the emperor to place a kushi in the Saio’s hair and speak a few words, after which neither party was to look back. However, Emperor Sanjo (三条天皇), perhaps finding the parting from his daughter, who had become the Saio, particularly painful, deliberately turned around to see her off. Fujiwara no Michinaga, who was present, found this action ‘ayashi (あやし; strange).’ Ōkagami records this moment as an ominous sign, as Emperor Sanjo’s reign lasted only five years, and he passed away shortly after his abdication.
That said, the new Saio, Princess Masako/Toshi (当子内親王), was the emperor’s first daughter and only fourteen years old at the time. Considering the feelings of a father parting from his own daughter, it is understandable that he would turn around, despite the custom.
――Asamashiki mono. sashikushi surite migaku hodo ni, mono ni tsukisahete oritaru kokochi.
(あさましきもの。さし櫛すりてみがくほどに、物につきさへて折りたる心地。; It’s utterly astonishing. The feeling you get when you accidentally break a comb while rubbing and polishing it against something.)
This phrase appears at the beginning of the ninety-third section, ‘Asamashikimono (あさましきもの, things that are astonishing),’ in The Pillow Book by Sei Shonagon. Considering that the ornamental kushi was used in rituals and as a decorative item, the emotional damage caused by breaking it would be far greater than that of a simple fine-toothed kushi used in everyday life. Moreover, if it happened while one was in the act of polishing the kushi, the impact would be even more profound.
On the other hand, in the 258th section, ‘Ureshikimono (things that are delightful),’ Sei Shonagon cheerfully writes, “It is also delightful when a kushi is taken out to be polished and it turns out beautifully.” Given the frequency with which she mentions kushi in The Pillow Book, a work not particularly large in scope, it seems clear that Sei Shonagon had a fondness for ornamental kushi. Unfortunately, however, there are no specific details about the type of comb she used. Though not expressed in the phrases ‘night sight, distant sight, beneath the hat,’ the absence of such details only deepens the longing for the combs of a distant time.
This article is translated from https://intojapanwaraku.com/culture/246479/