The Japanese myth of the trickster raccoon Iseult Gillespie

On the dusty roads of a small village,

a travelling salesman was having
difficulty selling his wares.

He’d recently traversed the region
just a few weeks ago,

and most of the villagers had already
seen his supply.

So he wandered the outskirts of the town

in the hopes of finding
some new customers.

Unfortunately, the road was largely
deserted,

and the salesman was about to turn back,

when he heard a high-pitched yelp
coming from the edge of the forest.

Following the screams to their source,
he discovered a trapped tanuki.

While these racoon-like creatures
were known for their wily ways,

this one appeared terrified and powerless.

The salesman freed
the struggling creature,

but before he could tend to its wounds,
it bolted into the undergrowth.

The next day, he set off
on his usual route.

As he trudged along,
he spotted a discarded tea kettle.

It was rusty and old— but perhaps
he could sell it to the local monks.

The salesman polished it
until it sparkled and shone.

He carried the kettle to Morin-ji Temple
and presented it to the solemn monks.

His timing was perfect—

they were in need of a large kettle
for an important service,

and purchased his pot
for a handsome price.

To open the ceremony, they began
to pour cups of tea for each monk—

but the kettle cooled too quickly.

It had to be reheated often throughout
the long service,

and when it was hot,
it seemed to squirm in the pourer’s hand.

By the end of the ceremony, the monks
felt cheated by their purchase,

and called for the salesman to return
and explain himself.

The following morning,
the salesman examined the pot,

but he couldn’t find
anything unusual about it.

Hoping a cup of tea
would help them think,

they set the kettle on the fire.

Within moments, the metal
began to sweat.

Suddenly, it sprouted a scrubby tail,
furry paws and pointed nose.

With a yelp, the salesman recognized
the tanuki he’d freed.

The salesman was shocked.

He’d heard tales of shape-shifting tanuki

who transformed by pulling
on their testicles.

But they were usually
troublesome tricksters,

who played embarrassing pranks
on travellers,

or made it rain money
that later dissolved into leaves.

Some people even placed tanuki statues
outside their homes and businesses

to trick potential pranksters
into taking their antics elsewhere.

However, this tanuki only smiled sweetly.

Why had he chosen this unsuspecting form?

The tanuki explained that he wanted
to repay the salesman’s kindness.

However, he’d grown too hot
as a tea kettle,

and didn’t like being burned,
scrubbed, or polished.

The monk and salesman laughed, both
impressed by this honourable trickster.

From that day on, the tanuki became
an esteemed guest of the temple.

He could frequently be found
telling tales and performing tricks

that amused even the most serious monks.

Villagers came from far away
to see the temple tanuki,

and the salesman visited often to share
tea made from an entirely normal kettle.