S. Kaner
emphasized a rational approach that led to the “downplaying of the role of the supernatural in
the real world.” This then influenced scholars such as Hayashi Razan to suggest that Jinmu, the
founder of the imperial line, was a Chinese prince rather than a direct descendant of the gods—a
shift in perspective that would undermine the imperial institution in a way that would doubtless
suit the shogunate. The backlash came with the kokugaku school of National Learning, which
rejected any such revisionism in regard to the Kojiki and Nihon shoki.^11
Bleed observes that most Edo period scholars were little interested in the material traces of the
ancient past. And yet many built up considerable collections of curios and other objects, includ-
ing antiquities. One was Arai Hakuseki (1656–1725) who took an interest in stone arrowheads
from northern Japan, as part of a broader concern for the history of weaponry. He argued that
these were human- made, rather than falling from heaven, and suggested that they were relics of
an invasion of northern Japan by the “Shuku- shinjin,” who Chinese records describe as inhabit-
ing Manchuria, and who are mentioned in early Japanese sources as invading northern Japan up
to the sixth century.^12
The extensive networks developed by Edo period antiquarians are exemplified by the figure
of Kimura Kenkadō (1736–1802), perhaps best known for the work Nihon sankai meisan zue
(“Representation and Description of the Most Famous Terrestrial and Maritime Products of
Japan”). The scion of a disgraced sake producer, Kimura became a very successful stationery
trader in Osaka, learned some Latin and Dutch, acquired over time one of the greatest collections
of Dutch books, and corresponded with some of the Dutch residents at Dejima. He was a collec-
tor, antiquary, botanist, connoisseur, tea aficionado, and artist, and the private museum that he
built up was one of the greatest collections of his time, acquired after his death by the Japanese
state for a considerable sum.^13
We have a portrait of him painted by Tani Bunchō, with whom he shared a passion for col-
lecting. Lachard has provided a taste of the detail of Kenkadō’s everyday life, as recorded in his
Kenkadō nikki (“daily notes”), which describes more than 40,000 visitors over a period of twenty
years. Tō Teikan (1732–1797) was in his circle, an antiquarian whose 1791 publication Shōkōhatsu
described the clothing of haniwa terracotta figures that were set up on the ancient burial mounds,
argued for major Korean influences on the early history of Japan, and suggested on the basis of
comparisons with continental historical schema that the start of the imperial line occurred some
six hundred years later than proposed in the early Japanese chronicles: the temerity of which led
to Tō being labeled a lunatic by Motoori Norinaga.^14
Lachard describes Kimura’s interactions with his fellow antiquarians and collectors as being
akin to a private club, the objectives of whose members were “the fastidious selection, purchase,
and use of objects and books not as ends in themselves but rather for the intellectual pleasures,
exchanges and advancement of knowledge afforded them by their collection.”^15 Although we do
not have details of any antiquities in his collection, which we would now date to the Jōmon or
Yayoi periods, surviving accounts of his activities provide a compelling picture of the intensity
of the exchanges that underpinned Edo antiquarian networks, and we can imagine someone like
Kimura appreciating the ancient pot that was eventually to find its way to the British Museum,
with which we began.
Eras and transitions: from the Age of the Gods to calibrated
radiocarbon dates
The contemporary division of Japanese prehistory into Palaeolithic, Jōmon, and Yayoi is not
something that our early modern antiquarians would have recognized, but they would have
recognized the transition from the Age of the Gods to the historical periods, as set out in the