How many magu today?

Utagawa Kuniyasu

The Flourishing Fish Market at Nihonbashi 1829, color woodblock print (nishiki-e), ōban triptych Museum of Fine Arts, Boston

“How many magu?” is a playful question about the weight of a whole tuna, coined for the fish-sorting floor.

Shortened from maguro (tuna), magu turns the heavy lifting and energy into a lighthearted pun.

Caught at sea, hauled aboard,

brought to market, auctioned, and cut—

until it becomes a slice of sashimi or a piece of nigiri sushi.

It begins with “How many magu?”

The punchline is mogu—one delicious bite.

From magu to mogu,

all that weight and energy become the flavor of a slice or a piece.

An Edo artist painted tuna, too.

At the left of the print, cuts of tuna are displayed for sale. At the far right is a shop with a noren—a traditional shop curtain—bearing the character 寿, suggesting a sushi shop. At the lower left, two men carry a large fish suspended from a pole. It may be bonito; it cannot be identified with certainty as tuna. Looks heavy, doesn’t it?

Red and dark fish fill tubs and trays; smaller fish sit in baskets.

For every fish, people carry, buy, and call out.

Names and streets change, but the market’s bustle lives on.

How many magu today?

Then, one happy mogu.