Some Themes of Japanese Literature

Japanese literature seems to have a very dark preface. Not to say that all of the literature for Japan is dark, but a lot of it has some form of death, pain, or some other kind of suffering. From the conflict of Bird in A Personal Matter to Hiiragi's actions in Moonlight Shadow, there seems to be a kind of shadow overlooking what happens in the novel. Many times the protagonists have to work to overcome this darkness so that their conflicts can be resolved, and, since these are novels, they usually do. Even earlier literature has these themes of darkness, in particular Hagakure, which was a very dark book, though it wasn't really a novel, but a set of guidelines. Even across the ages, this theme of darkness and death has held. Not that this is common in all literature (A Wild Sheep Chase comes to mind), but that feeling is generally there.

Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto dealt with the sense of mourning after a loved one dies. Mikage's suffering because of the death of Eriko, as well as Yuichi's suffering from the same death. Yuichi did not seem to want to come to terms with his mother's (as he puts it, though Eriko was a man, at least originally) death, and held off on telling Mikage of his passing. Perhaps, knowing the friendship between Mikage and Eriko, Yuichi did now want to let her know to spare her feelings, but eventually told her. Mikage's suffering is also rather deeply rooted in death, in Eriko's death, as well as the death of her family; "When my parents died I was still a child. When my grandfather died, I had a boyfriend. When my grandmother died I was left all alone." (Kitchen, 48) It goes on to say that after she found out about Eriko's death, she seemed to lose her will to live. Eriko seemed to mean everything to her, and his death threw her over the edge. Fortunately, she decided to go listen to Yuichi, and it turns out that Eriko had considered her a child of his through the years, since she really had no one either. Mikage's loss of the will to live is an example of this darkness; "No matter what, I want to continue living with the awareness that I will die." She wanted to know that one day she would be reunited with everyone who had died (Kitchen, 58).

Another part of the darkness that is not necessarily a bad darkness seems to be a form of the search of self. This occurs in Kitchen, A Personal Matter, and Moonlight Shadow. It seems that there is someone in all of these novels that seems to be seeking a gender identity, for what reason is sometimes unknown. In Kitchen, it was Eriko that was searching for the identity, or rather had searched, and found that he was more of a woman than a man. In A Personal Matter, Bird had problems dealing with what had happened with his son, and also seemed to have some issues with his own sexuality;

Himiko - "Do you suppose you wouldn't be particularly afraid of the female body if the vagina and womb were excluded from it?"

Bird hesitated..."It's not terribly important but, well, the breasts -

"What you are saying is that you wouldn't have to be afraid if you approached me from behind."

(A Personal Matter, 84)

This isn't necessarily darkness, but obscurity, which could be seen in the same light. Gender confusion is a common problem for many people in the real world anyways, but, due to Western taboos on it, it is rarely written about. The Japanese are more open to this kind of writing, and know that it is a problem for many people, this search through the darkness to discover what they truly are on the inside. The case of Hiiragi in Moonlight Shadow may or may not actually be a case of this gender confusion, the other option is that, after the death of Yumiko, he developed a kind of a psychosis. In order to keep her memory alive, he needed to wear her school uniform. It could be clouded judgment here, or may just be a phase of mourning. It's this darkness that is focused on in Yoshimoto's novels. Not so much the darkness of death, but the darkness of the time after death.

But, even throughout all the darkness and confusion, there is always this light at the end of the tunnel. Just because the story is written in darkness, there is always some kind of positive ending. In Kitchen, it was the realization by Mikage that Eriko was dead, and not going to come back, and also realizing that she could not simply mourn the rest of her life, knowing that she would have Yuichi with her. In A Personal Matter, Bird's problem with the condition of his child went away, since the doctors told Bird that the tumor on his head would be easily operable, and that the child was not in as much danger as he thought, and would be alright with the operation, and not be necessarily handicapped, as was Bird's worry. And in Moonlight Shadow, it was again a matter of acceptance, in this case, acceptance for Hiiragi; "The morning of...was it the day before yesterday?...It may have been a dream. I was sort of half-asleep when Yumiko walked in [...] She went to my closet, carefully took the sailor outfit, and bundled it up in her arms. Then [...] she waved goodbye." (Moonlight Shadow, 149) The dream caused Hiiragi to wake up to what was occurring, and to realize that he no longer needed to mourn his loss. This also opened Satsuki's eyes, so that she no longer had to mourn for Hitoshi.

Darkness in Japanese literature is just an obstacle in the way of the protagonists. Everyone, whether in real life or in a novel, has problems, and people need to overcome those problems. The novels that deal with darkness seem to flow fairly straightforward, and usually end in a positive, albeit sometimes sad, manner. Those that deal with the death of a loved on, particularly in Yoshimoto's writing, usually end on a bittersweet note. The person suffering realizes that his or her loved one is gone, and then realizes that he or she can move on. In the case of A Personal Matter, Kenzaburo Oe ends it with the child being relatively ok, and not requiring any sort of assistance, physically or mentally. It also showed the uncertainty of real life, where someone may think one thing, but the reality of the situation is the exact opposite. These books could be compared to Pandora's box; they are filled with darkness, but there is always a last ray of light inside them.

Citations:

Oe, Kenzaburo A Personal Matter. Grove Press, 1969

Yoshimoto, Banana Kitchen (including Moonlight Shadow). Washington Square Press 1993