Where Literature Meets History: Iwami Ginzan
What a novel revealed, and what the landscape still remembers.
I enjoy reading, and I often pick up novels. The reasons I choose a book vary, but there are times when I select one simply because its cover catches my eye in a bookstore. This article begins with one such book.
One day, I happened to pick up a novel titled Shirogane no Ha (Silver Leaf). It is a work of historical fiction, yet it also touches on the history of Iwami Ginzan and the lives of the people connected to it. As I read, I became aware that the place described in the story existed not only on the page but also in reality. I had known the name, but I had never thought deeply about its history.
The novel sparked my interest, and I decided to visit Iwami Ginzan myself. I wanted to see the landscape, understand how the town remains today, and observe what aspects of its past are still carried forward.
Later, in November, news was reported that a new gold vein had been discovered at the Yamanoe Gold Mine in Kagoshima. I had been thinking more about Japan’s mineral veins after visiting Iwami Ginzan, and the news stayed with me more strongly than it might have before. Although it was a coincidence, it felt, in a small way, like a natural continuation of what I had just learned.
From here, I will share what I saw at Iwami Ginzan and explore the history of Japan’s mining culture that forms its background.
Japan as a Land of Gold and Silver
To understand the character of Iwami Ginzan, it is helpful to look briefly at how the Japanese archipelago itself was formed. Japan is a region shaped by repeated volcanic activity, and its geological features have created mineral deposits containing gold and silver in many areas.
Throughout history, gold mines were developed across the country. Even in surviving records alone, more than seventy sites are known to have produced gold. In some regions, such as Sado, multiple mines operated within the same area. Silver was no different, and many silver mines were active from the Sengoku period through the Edo period.
These mines varied greatly in scale and era, but they shared a common role: gold and silver were important resources that supported Japan’s economy and its international trade. Among them, Iwami Ginzan was one of the most influential.
From here, we will look at how Iwami Ginzan was discovered and how its history unfolded.
The History of Iwami Ginzan
Iwami Ginzan was discovered in the sixteenth century, when a merchant from Hakata named Kamiya Jutei identified its silver vein. The mine flourished as refining techniques later advanced.
During the Age of Exploration, Japanese silver was widely known in Europe. It is said that in the latter half of the sixteenth century, silver from Iwami Ginzan accounted for a certain share of global circulation, making the mine an influential presence in international trade.
In the Edo period, Iwami Ginzan became a domain directly governed by the shogunate, and towns formed in the surrounding mountains to support mining operations. Merchants, artisans, and many others gathered there, creating a local society centered on the mine.
Mining continued for roughly four centuries until operations ceased in 1923. The remaining tunnels and townscape now serve as valuable records of the lives and activities of that period.
Learning this history naturally leads to a desire to see the remaining tunnels in person and understand what they look like today.
Walking Through Iwami Ginzan
From here, I will share what I encountered during my visit to the site, together with the photographs taken on that day.
Iwami Ginzan contains approximately one thousand tunnels known as mabu. These tunnels were carved into the mountain to extract ore, with passageways just wide enough for a single person to pass through. One of the representative examples is Ryūgenji Mabu, which is open to the public.
Reaching the entrance from the parking area requires a considerable walk, as cars cannot proceed beyond that point. For this reason, visitors either continue on foot, rent bicycles, or use a paid option called the Ginzan Cart, a small golf-cart-style vehicle.
We chose bicycles, and as we passed through the streets of Ōmori and cycled up the slope, old merchant houses and traditional residences lined the road. While pedaling along, I found myself imagining the people who once lived in this area. There are traces of former settlements as well as present-day homes, and even a small elementary school can be seen. It is a place where time seems to move gently, and where the past and present blend naturally. After climbing the hill and breaking a sweat, we finally arrived at the entrance to Ryūgenji Mabu.
