Doing an “anime book club” on a series that I adore so much has certainly opened up a mixed bag of emotions. On the one hand, it’s awesome to have the opportunity to watch something I love over again; as I’ve stated many times at this point, it’s not something I give myself a lot of time to do (it usually only happens if I manage to dupe my local anime club into watching some of the weird stuff that I like). On the other hand, I have this creeping fear that I’ll reach a point where I can’t manage to write anything that truly captures my feelings about the show. I have a difficult enough time already trying to make my writing convey the full nature of my thoughts, and that’s compounded by the fact that this is one of my favorite series and I want people to have the same love for it that I do. Sometimes it feels like there’s a weight on my shoulders, though of course this is burden I carry by choice!
This week’s story is told over the course of three episodes instead of two, so there’s a little bit more to take notes on and unpack. It also takes longer for the story to get to the root of its mononoke’s origin, though in my opinion this gives it some additional time to focus on setting and atmosphere. But I’ll leave my commentary for after the episode summaries.
Please check out previous weeks’ discussions if you’re interested or would like to get caught up:
Part 1
A group of individuals have boarded a merchant ship to gain passage to Edo. The normally takes four to five days to complete, so the travelers decide to introduce themselves to one-another to make for a more cordial passage. Among them are an ascetic (Genyosai), a samurai (Sasaki Hyoe), a bishop and his monk-in-training (Genkei and Sogen), Kayo (a house servant who should be familiar to fans of the show), the merchant who owns the ship (Mikuniya) and his ship’s captain (Goromaru), and the Medicine Seller. The trip is expected to be uneventful, because the ship has an infallible compass that always points North, at least according to the captain. However, many of the passengers seem to have a similar desire; they hear that there are ayakashi in these waters, and they’re inclined to want to see some. Genyosai even regales the other passengers with stories he knows about ayakashi and how he’d like to become famous by defeating or exorcising them. He may very well get his wish – sometime during the second night, someone on board sets a magnet near the compass, throwing the ship off course into an area of the sea known as the “Dragon’s Triangle,” a place where ayakashi are said to run rampant.
It isn’t long before the sea breeze stops blowing and the ship is surrounded by heavy clouds that blot out the sunlight. A giant vessel appears in the sky and attempts to make off with the merchant ship. The Medicine Seller is able to fight it off utilizing the tools he has at his disposal, but this wipes out all of his ingredients and he won’t be able to utilize the same tactic again. The passengers begin to accuse one-another of setting them all on this dangerous path. Though the Medicine Seller has the power to exorcise the demons that are plaguing them, the sacred sword is not yet inclined to release its power.
Part 2
Following their near-miss encounter, the passengers discuss and debate the nature of ayakashi and mononoke and how they might be categorized and dealt with going forward. Kayo starts to wonder who the Medicine Seller is beholden to and whether he’s actually trying to help anyone other than himself. As the Medicine Seller takes a moment to reflect on the situation, the sound of a ghostly biwa rings out across the ship. The group is approached by an ayakashi strumming the instrument. Genyosai recognizes this exact situation from one of his stories and informs the others that the ayakashi will ask each of them to state their greatest fear. If they lie they could be left to wander the netherworld forever (though this doesn’t seem to deter some of them). Each individual is asked in turn to state their fear, and then is forced to experience an illusory version of it (some more terrifying than others). Lastly, the ayakashi makes his way to Genkei.
Genkei is revealed as the person who set the magnet to the compass to gain passage to the Dragon’s Triangle, because no fisherman would dare go there knowingly. Genkei’s greatest fear is related to his sister, Oyo, who sacrificed herself in his place by closing herself within a hollow boat – a vessel made from a giant hollowed log from which the passenger cannot escape. He believes that the grudge she bears for having to sacrifice her life is what has caused the Dragon’s Triangle to be filled with terrifying ayakashi, and he has returned to this place to try to calm her soul and release her from her suffering, as is his duty as a monk.
Finale
After the hollow boat is pulled to the surface, the men work to open the locked porthole. They assume that if they can lay Oyo’s body and soul to rest, they may be able to calm the Dragon’s Triangle for good. Though a haunting scratching noise can be heard coming from within the boat, when the door is opened they find nothing inside. Genkei realizes that it is time to lay bare the story that has haunted him for fifty years of his life. When he and Oyo were very young, their parents died. The siblings were devoted to each-other, perhaps too much so; though Genkei left to join a strict Buddhist order, his mind would wander to the improper feelings he had towards his sister. Because the Devil’s Triangle was a dangerous area even before it was swarmed with ayakashi, Genkei was asked by his people to become a sacrifice to the gods in hopes that it would calm the water. Knowing that this would release him from his lustful suffering, he agreed. But he was afraid, and Oyo sensed that. She offered to take his place, both because she thought him too good-natured to go through with the sacrifice, and because she harbored feelings towards him as well and would rather die than marry another man. This, he says, is what became of his sister.
Because his sword cannot yet be released, the Medicine Seller presses Genkei even further. He identifies the fact that it is not Oyo who has become the mononoke (as his scales are not indicating a mononoke in that vicinity), but some darker aspect of Genkei himself that he has wrestled with and feared for so long. To defeat this presence, Genkei must allow it to be exorcised. The Medicine Seller makes short work of the demonic shadow, and peace befalls Genkei for the first time in many years.
Thoughts and Reactions
This story arc has always been one of the most difficult for me to wrestle with. It’s taken me quite a while for me to identify why that is, but I think part of the reason has to do with the resolution, which has never really sit well with me. Like I’ve mentioned in previous weeks, one of the things that’s appealed to me about Mononoke is that its stories deal with the unjust situations that women have had to endure both historically and into the modern age. In the case of this story, the exact nature of the injustice is somewhat difficult to pinpoint right away; it’s not just some plain-spoken example of sexism or abuse that’s simplistic and easy to vilify. Instead, it’s a story about two people whose emotions towards one-another are uncomfortable to think about and difficult to relate-to, and the different ways in which they make sacrifices to wrongly accommodate them. I suppose, though, that this is what this project is about – it’s an attempt by me to get to the heart of a series that has allowed me to experience such complicated feelings for so long.
A motif that reveals itself in many different facets of this story is that of opposing forces, mirror-images, inner and outer presentations of self – the two halves that make up the personalities and existences of the characters. Almost universally, I believe people develop a persona that they’re willing to present in public, as well as an inner world comprised of the parts of themselves that they wish to keep secret, their truly-held beliefs, and traits that they feel may not be quite ready for prime-time (now or ever). Because Japan’s culture is more focused on maintaining the harmony of the group dynamic, their language has specific terms that speak to this concept – tatemae (建前), or the public or outward-facing components of one’s existence (the persona and opinions you’d be comfortable sharing with strangers), and honne (本音), one’s true thoughts and opinions. I think for the most part the aspects of ourselves that we keep hidden are innocuous but maybe seem embarrassing in some way – I probably wouldn’t announce to my coworkers that I recently attended a furry convention, for example. This idea shows up throughout the series, because really nobody wants to tell the Medicine Seller the entire truth the first time he asks; there’s always something else being kept hidden, something that paints the accused in an even worse light, and they’ve often put a lot of time an energy into fooling those around them (and often, themselves) into thinking that they’re a normal, or even upstanding person. Genkei is a clear example of this concept, because he’s literally two halves of a person – one half of which carries all the darkness and guilt that he’s collected over fifty years.
Genkei’s situation is frustrating to me, not really because of what he says or does, but because in thinking about it I realize that his attitude is so reminiscent of things we’re experiencing currently and in his resolution I see many of the flaws in how we address (or don’t) men’s transgressions against women. When I think of some of the Hollywood stars, comedians, and politicians who’ve been (rightly) adversely affected by our current willingness to call out and become intolerant towards their various abuses, I think about how ill-equipped we are to expect and apply meaningful consequences to their actions. Many of them have lost high-profile jobs in the industry, and there have been some half-hearted apologies provided, but beyond that we seem to lack a framework for these individuals to truly atone for the things that they’ve done. I honestly don’t know what I would ask of someone like Louis C.K. or Aziz Ansari, but hearing that both men have started to trickle back into performing (some, unfortunately, to great applause) is causing me a lot of anger and anxiety, and I’m not even the direct victim of their crimes!
Genkei’s hidden shame, his ambition and sense of self-importance that allowed him to value his own life over that of his sister, becomes its own separate terrifying entity that’s eliminated at the very moment he manages to reveal the truth. Even his sister’s spirit seems to forgive him; the malevolent form of the mononoke becomes that of a young woman, before it rejoins Genkei and makes him whole and beautiful. What bothers me is that Genkei has really only done the bare minimum of what ought to be done – he reveals and acknowledges the truth, which is a truth that paints him in a poor light. After performing that one deed, he’s allowed to shed this burden and shine brighter than he did before. He’s allowed to re-integrate and maintain his position as a religious leader. No one really seems to question the justice in this. But he hasn’t really done the difficult work that ought to be done; in fact, the truth about his sister’s sacrifice, his rotten self-serving feelings, and the situation’s resolution, could very well never be heard again beyond the confines of the ship, and he would never have to bring it up again if he so chose. Instead he ought to be doing something to help ensure that the things that happened to him and his sister don’t happen more in the future; that’s the bit of the story that we’ll never see, and can only speculate about whether or not they happened.
I think too often “I’m sorry” is the end of the story, rather than the beginning. They’re words that can carry a lot of weight, but only if they’re accompanied by action and even then, only action that’s meaningful towards the parties that have been harmed. I suppose, assuming that the visual symbol of the shadow woman is meant to represent Oyo, then the person harmed by the action has chosen to forgive the perpetrator. I have to say, though, that I would certainly expect something more out of the deal. I don’t like to hold grudges, but I’m absolutely not someone who’s handing out forgiveness like Halloween candy. I think perhaps I may always wonder if Oyo’s sacrifice was finally met with some kind of justice later down the line.
I think there’s more to be taken from this story arc when we read between the lines a bit. I found it interesting that almost all the characters (aside from the Medicine Seller with his sword) assumed that the mononoke was the result of a woman’s grudge, and not an offshoot of a man’s transgressions as turned out to be the case. I think as viewers I think we’re easily led to believe that the easy, obvious answer is clearly the correct one; even other stories in this series seem to imply on the surface that to commit a crime against a woman is to invite her undying supernatural rage in some way. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, right? But it’s always more complicated than that. As it turns out, Oyo’s sacrifice was perhaps the most untarnished action of anyone’s; she knew she could not exist happily in the world considering her immoral feelings towards her brother, and chose to become one with the sea without malice and of her own volition. There’s certainly some nobility in that, though it does also make me think about women and the sacrifices we are often asked to make even when it’s not entirely logical or warranted. For example, we often make sacrifices of our free time, energy, sleep, and other things when we choose to have a family. Sometimes we sacrifice our job satisfaction and livelihood by choosing to stay home. While these are all choices that men are free to make, despite the fact that the world has changed over the years to be more equitable it often still falls to women to give up more pieces of themselves in the pursuit of what we are told is some kind of higher duty to society. I certainly don’t mean to invalidate the choice itself, but I do think we have a long way to go until it becomes an actual choice and not a thinly-veiled expectation. The resolution of this story glorifies the sacrifice somewhat, and Genkei is not really asked or required to respond in kind.
As I mentioned earlier, this story arc uses a lot of “dual” and mirror-related imagery to suggest the duality of the characters and, by extension, the truth. The Medicine Seller seems to have access to some alternate plane of perception; there are several moments where the scene jump cuts to one of him standing in a similar position, but upside-down in the room as compared to the other characters. In this place he sees ayakashi that are present in the vicinity. He also provides his mirror amulet to his other self when battling the mononoke, to use as a tool against it. This is another way that the arc references the duality of all people – the Medicine Seller, who is normally mysterious and restrained, has within him a presence that could be considered another being entirely, one who fights rather than analyzes. And, of course, with the exception of Genyosai whose interaction with the biwa-playing fish man is left to the viewer’s imagination, we are treated to the inner mental workings of most of the other characters as they struggle with facing the manifestation of their deepest fears. Reflections, inner and outer selves, meat-space and the spiritual realm… all of these interrelated pairs show up throughout this story, emphasizing the two-sided nature of our human interactions.
I find Genkei’s visual transformation to be incredibly striking. After his mononoke half is exorcised and becomes a visual suggestion of his sister’s spirit, Genkei’s appearance changes completely. Smooth skin, bright eyes with long eyelashes, full lips… he becomes much more feminine in appearance. I’ve always kind of wondered how to interpret this. If he truly has incorporated his sister’s spirit into his body, then I suppose it makes some sense for their shared body to have traits from both. It could also be an echo of (or a suggestion about) the Medicine Seller – I learned many years ago that the way he dresses is considered more feminine than masculine with the wide obi and layered kimono, and he seems to speak in a more feminine mode despite his deep voice. This appearance outside the binary does, I’m ashamed to admit, imply something supernatural about his existence; Genkei’s beauty and more feminine appearance has some of the same effect. Ultimately, I think we all are a blend of traits that are considered (correctly or not) masculine or feminine in nature; this may be yet another way of acknowledging that duality, though in sort of a clunky way.
A final piece of the story, one which took me until this viewing to perceive, occurs after the credits roll on the final episode. Sasaki Hyoe has a final scene during which he clutches his right eye (like Benkei) and seems to experience some kind of emotional release, after which his broken sword disappears completely. I always found this scene very strange and out-of-place, until I noticed that, in the background of a shot in which we also see the Medicine Seller, there is another Hyoe facing the opposite direction. Whether his situation was related to Genkei’s directly, or whether it was coincidentally just similar, it appears to me that perhaps the Medicine Seller was able to lead him to a similar resolution. (Unrelated, but his look reminds me a little bit of the character Kitaro; I think it’s the one glaring eye).
Though this isn’t one of my favorite story arcs in the series, it still managed to provide some interesting fodder for interpretation (and that’s assuming I’m even on the right track!). I feel like I understood it a lot more with this viewing than I have with prior ones, though I’m sure there’s still even more to be discovered in the future. For now, though, I think I’ll leave this post as-is, and allow others to reflect as they deem necessary.
Next week is my favorite story arc in the series. I know it will be challenging for me to write about because it’s the story that affects me most personally. But I’m also looking forward to being able to talk about it!