Friday 9 April 2010

Anjin-sama, the 47 Ronin and a Universal History of Infamy

Fascinating the Japanese, don't you think? For a European, or someone of European descent? Not so much post-war Japan, but earlier times. Medieval, the era of the Tokugawa shogunate, the time of Bushido; the 'way of the warrior'. We don't have much to compare with it. Even the 'Age of Chivalry', the age of the Minnesaenger; the age of Sir Launcealot, Sir Galahad, Arthur and the tales woven by Mallory don't quite measure up to the code of the samurai.

And yet, it is a mind set far removed from what we can imagine; we of the twentieth century. Victory or defeat is of no consequence, only that you fight (and die) with honour. To die, merely because of shame. It is hard for us to think in this way, I feel. And yet, it holds an endless fascination for us Westerners. 'Shogun', the novel and the 'film'; the cinema of Kurosawa, Yojimbo, Kagamusha, Ran; the tale of the 47 Ronin. All these involve a different way of thinking, a different interaction with the social order and yet we somehow desire to make the effort; to understand this strange culture, far removed from what we know.

Perhaps we have inherited this from our parents, our grandparents, who struggled with comprehending the Japanese attitudes in the second world war; understanding Bushido which still formed a way of life for the elite.

I was reminded of this when I re-read the tale of the 47 ronin as told in 'Tales of Old Japan', by Algernon Bertram Freeman-Mitford, a diplomat (crazy name, crazy diplomat) better known as A B Mitford. The story goes something like this:

A minor feudal Lord (daimyo), Asano Takumi no Kani, was to be instructed in court etiquette by one Kira Kotsuke no Suke. (It didn't pay to unintentionally insult the Shogun, however innocently). Now whatever the specific reason, lack of respect, on both sides, lack of a bribe to Kira, accusations of stupidity by Kira, Takumi and Kira did not get along, at all! Matters came to head when Takumi attempted a ham-fisted assassination on Kira, in the Shogun's palace! Now given that bowing incorrectly in the Shogun's presence could have you executed or dispossessed, or both, or worse, the Shogun didn't exactly take this lying down.

He ordered Takumi to commit seppeku and his entire fiefdom to be dissolved. The upshot of which was that Takumi died, his whole family were disinherited and all of his retainers became unemployed. (Such unemployed retainers, samurai, were called ronin and were not looked on favourably in feudal Japan.)

Needless to say the the retainers were not happy about this! One, they were unemployed ronin; two, they had little prospect of gaining future employment (they were after all retainers of a disgraced daimyo); three, they felt it was all Kira's fault anyway for dishonouring their daimyo.

So they hatched a plan.

They would become dissolute ronin until such time as Kira let down his guard (he was obviously well aware of the potential for retribution) and then they would strike to avenge their daimyo. Well that part of the plan took 18 months. The leader of the ronin sank just about as far as was possible to get, even allowing a native of Satsuma to spit in his face, calling him a coward for not avenging his daimyo. Eventually they deemed the time was right. They assaulted Kira's home, saw off his retainers and eventually cornered the 'master of etiquette' and asked him to commit seppuku in atonement for the shaming of their daimyo.

Kira, according to the story, refused many times, on his knees, quaking and trembling the whole time, until the leader of the ronin, Oishi Kuranosuke, in frustration, cut off his head. The severed head was brought to the grave of Takumi and the head placed on the grave. The ronin then gave themselves up to the Shogun; Takumi's honour was restored.

All were commanded to commit seppuku. And 47 did. Except one, who had been sent on an errand by Oishi at the time of the assault on Kira's home. He was, as the story goes, pardoned by the Shogun, on account of his extreme youth.

The ronin were buried before their daimyo.

Now, to modern eyes (and ears), this begs the question: 'Why did the ronin wait so long?' If Bushido lay no weight on success or failure; if Bushido merely asked for the vengeance to take place, whether successful or not, why did the ronin wait so long? Perhaps they felt they had something to gain? Perhaps they felt that the Shogun might be lenient; after so long to wreak their vengeance. Perhaps they just waited until they were certain they outnumbered the defenders of Kira. Who knows?

But doesn't the question reveal a mind set which we cannot eradicate? Might this not demean the samurai who fought, and died, to save their master's honour and reputation? Is is possible that it mattered so much? That self interest didn't even occur to them?

Perhaps.

Jorge Luis Borges writes (in the 'Universal History of Infamy', 'The Insulting Master of Etiquette, Kotsuke no Suke'):

"Among those who come is a boy, dusty and weary, who must have travelled a long way. He prostrates himself before Oishi Kuranosuke's tombstone and says aloud: 'I saw you lying drunk by the door of a brothel in Kyoto, and I did not think you were were plotting to avenge your lord; I thought you to be a faithless soldier, and I spat in your face. Now I have come to offer atonement.' So saying he performed harikiri. (seppuku. ed.).

The abbot of the temple, feeling sympathy for his deed, buried him alongside the retainers.

This is the end of the story of the forty seven loyal men - except that it has no end, for the rest of us, who are not loyal perhaps but we will never wholly give up the hope of being so, will go on honouring them with words."

Footnote:

Seppuku (often called harakiri): ritual disembowelment. In practice, all that was required was that the knife, short sword, was inserted into the abdomen; at which point your 'second' took your head off with a clean sweep of the sword. (Making sure he left a flap of skin still attached to your body so your head didn't wing its way into the audience as a football might on a 60 yard pass to the running back!)

Anjin-sama, anjin-san - the name given to William Adams, an English sailor, by the Shogun, Tokugawa Ieyasu, on whose story the Clavell novel 'Shogun' was based.

2 comments:

  1. Fortunately penguins don't practice the Seppuku. They have nothing to be ashamed of... except dropping the egg!

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  2. True. But then again, we don't opposable thumbs so it's a bit difficult to hold the knife. As for the second whipping your head off with the sword, well that's a non-starter. Same problem! :)

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