Jigoku Hells and exoticism

Unzen Jigoku was first opened in 701 when the Buddhist monk Gyoki built Manmyo-ji Temple. Unzen (温泉 hot spring) Shrine was built at about the same time. Clearly, this area where steam and volcanic gases erupt from the surface of the earth was regarded from the time of its discovery as a sacred place, not a tourist haven. The characters 雲仙 (for unzen) were applied in 1934 when the area was designated as Japan's first national park. Until then, Unzen was written as 温泉 and read as Unzen. It was during the Edo period (1603-1867) that it became known as a scenic spot, visited by the distinguished Tokugawa-era intellectual Yoshida Shoin and others, and introduced to the world in the book, Nippon, authored by the 19th-Century German physician, botanist and traveler Philipp Franz von Siebold.

Here, one really feels that the volcanic belt is alive. The gas heated in the magma chamber becomes a fumarole of hot water and hydrogen sulfide, raising clouds of steam with a thunderous sound. This is why it is called jigoku, or hell. There are similar “hells” all over Japan, notably in the Kyushu city of Beppu, but Unzen Jigoku leaves a strong impression as a hell-like landscape. The stones surrounding the fumaroles are dyed yellow and white by the crystallized sulfur clinging to them. The desolate and bleak surroundings are overwhelming as I am shrouded in steam, reminding me that here, between 1627 and 1631, Japanese Christians were tortured, to force renunciation of their faith, and were executed.

The fumarole with the dreadful name Daikyokan Jigoku (Great Screaming Hell) gets its appellation from the screeching swoosh that resounds with the spouting of massive amounts of steam from the subterranean caves. The fumarole known as Suzume Jjigoku (Sparrow Hell) sends variegated hot water and foam out in small spurts, making chirping sounds that remind one of a sparrow’s call, causing one to remark upon the suitability of that name. There are walkways there today, making it safe, but the soft surface of the ground makes it dangerous to go beyond the railing.

During the Meiji and Taisho eras (1868-1912), when the sea route between Nagasaki and Shanghai was opened and transportation to and from Shanghai’s foreign concessions flourished, the area proved itself a thriving health resort area for Westerners. Said to be the first place in Japan where ice cream was served to tourists, the area was charged with a unique exotic atmosphere. In 1934, when the area was designated as a national park, the construction of a tourist hotel was planned as part of a national policy. Appointed to this task was Kizo Hashimoto, a Nagasaki-born businessman who was well known in Osaka for his shipping business and management of the Dojima Building, a notable example of the Western-style architecture built during Osaka’s terrific growth between 1920 and 1930.

The hotel founded by Kizo Hashimoto is still standing today, having been renovated several times, and the interior in particular retains the flamboyance of those bygone days. The red gable-roofed architecture was reportedly adopted from the Swiss chalet style, but today it is filled with a comfortable classicism, thanks to the careful incorporation of a wide variety of Western elements, from William Morris wallpaper and English furniture to the Art Deco bathhouse. A good atmosphere is created by the naturally suitable Western-style furniture.

The dining room is particularly wonderful. From the array of tableware, one can sense the pride and poise of having confidently entertained distinguished guests from all over the world. The room exudes a relaxed and soothing elegance, a mature Western style. The vast 330m2 space floods with bright light, which is reflected in the white tablecloths and sparkling cutlery. Unfortunately, due to the accommodation restrictions due to the COVID 19 pandemic, I was not able to stay overnight, but I hope to spend an enchanted time in this dining room someday.

Perhaps because the founder also ran a shipping company, the hotel is somewhat like a cruise ship, with a bar, billiard room, movie theater and library arranged along the corridors. In every space, every detail is finished with a sense of elegance. The very existence of such a hotel in the vicinity of the fumaroles of Unzen Hells itself seems like a fantasy, but I cannot help but think of the immense depth of thought and richness of knowledge of the founding family who created and sustained this hotel.

The bathhouse features a unique Art Deco-style ceiling and distinctive tile patterns, and is quite Western and sophisticated for a bathhouse in “hell”. But I was unexpectedly touched by its touristic charms, and I felt that it was not a mistake to embrace exoticism in this way. For me, with my aspiration and intention to restore tourism as a resource based on the resources of Japan’s culture, this hotel is enticing and interesting to me as an object. Certainly, Nagasaki was a hub of connection with foreign countries, a melting pot in which people from both East and West enjoyed cultural exchange. I would like to keep this in mind.

2022.4.4