It’s interesting to make note of the rituals of ours that develop innocently out of tendencies and habits. Lately when I’ve been sitting down to write, I’ve lit a candle that I keep on my desk. It doesn’t really do all that much beyond creating a nice-smelling atmosphere and a friendly-glowing light, but I find that lighting the wick now puts me in a certain state of mind. It’s a signal to my brain that it’s time to think, focus, and use my words. Mononoke, and many other anime, are similarly ritualistic in nature; listening to the theme song allows me to focus on the story ahead, and the theater-like sliding screens and the clanking of wooden blocks puts me in a meditative state of mind. It’s definitely not the only reason why this series is so striking or memorable to me, but it definitely makes full use of itself as an art form.
This week marks the beginning of the series proper. While I would still encourage those of you with access to watch Bakeneko if you’re able, I don’t believe this series suffers much for not having seen it. I personally watched Mononoke before realizing that it was a spin off, and mostly just felt that finding Bakeneko was a welcome bonus. Luckily Mononoke is now available on Crunchyroll, so it’s much easier for those of you watching along to participate!
Listed below is the link to last week’s post:
This set of episodes deserves a content warning for depiction of or reference to forced abortion and sexual slavery.
Part 1
The Medicine Seller arrives at an inn on a rainy night, looking for lodging. The proprietress, Hisayo, seems intrigued by the mysterious man and allows him to stay (though Tokuji, her servant, is a bit taken-aback). Soon afterward, a young woman named Shino appears at the inn’s doorstep begging for a place to stay. All she wants is to get out of the rain and survive so that she can give birth to her baby. Hisayo attempts to throw Shino out, but she’s insistent that she’s being pursued and that being outside will mean certain death for her and her unborn child. They decide that perhaps having a murdered woman outside their establishment might be a problem, and offer to let her stay in an old room that’s normally off-limits to customers. As Hisayo and Shino make their way upstairs, the younger woman hears the sounds of children laughing and playing. She also sees and speaks to a small child whose physical presence seems somewhat questionable.
As Shino settles in to sleep by the fireplace, the sound of heavy breathing reveals the presence of the assassin sent to kill her. As quickly as he appears, though, he seems grabbed by a mysterious force and ends up dead. The Medicine Seller makes his entrance, and reveals that the murderer definitely isn’t human. Only a malevolent mononoke could have so thoroughly dispatched the assassin. In order to rid the inn of the mononoke, they must learn its origin and why it haunts such a place.
Part 2
The mononoke seems especially attracted to Shino, who has perceived its presence several times to this point. Hisayo considers all the talk of mononoke rubbish until she tries to leave the room; all the corridors are simply mirror images of the room they’re in. Shino is separated from the rest of the group, and begins to see visions of her past, as well as the history of building. The Medicine Seller learns that the inn was once a brothel, and the room they were in was where abortions were performed if the prostitutes happened to become pregnant. Hisayo burnt the fetal remains and stored them in the walls of the room as an offering to the unborn children. It becomes clear that the Zashikiwarashi has arisen from the grudge that the spirits of all the unborn children bear.
Shino offers them a conduit into the world via her own child’s birth – a surrogate mother in place of their chosen mothers whose choice to birth them wasn’t realized. The Medicine Seller sees this as an unwise choice, but Shino takes it upon herself in spite of that. Unfortunately, Shino begins to suffer bleeding in the process. Recognizing the nature of her sacrifice, the Zashikiwarashi allows itself to be exorcised to prevent a worse outcome. With this, the mononoke has found its peace, and Shino is free again to live her life.
Thoughts and Reactions
Something I realized while watching this set of episodes for the umpteenth time in my life is that Mononoke isn’t one of those series that takes its viewer’s hand and leads it gently into the midst of the story it wants to tell. Instead, it leaps headfirst into an incredibly difficult topic and expects its viewers to know well enough what to do about it. Abortion is one of those topics that has the potential to get just about anyone bent-out-of-shape, and this set of episodes reveals a side of the subject that doesn’t necessarily fit cleanly into anyone’s narrative. My interpretation of this story has changed over the years as I’ve become less enamored with singular, “correct” interpretations and more concerned with nuance and reading between the lines. The arc of my interpretation of this story can be summarized briefly like this:
“Hmm, this story seems to be anti-abortion rights and I don’t like that.”
“Ah, it’s really more about women’s reproductive choice and having the freedom to decide their own outcomes.”
“Oh, pregnancy and its various outcomes are just some of the many ways in which society has manipulated women who lack socioeconomic or other resources.”
This isn’t a journey that necessarily has a final destination and I suspect that the more I keep returning to this story the more complicated my thoughts on it will become. It’s certainly a situation where an interpretation is likely to be heavily influenced by one’s life experiences and willingness to empathize with others. To be honest, though, at this point in my journey I feel much more drawn to the stories of the women whose aborted fetuses became the mononoke than to any debate about our current rights to choose abortion as reflected in this anime (truly, I don’t believe there’s a debate to be had – having full control over one’s body is another step on the journey to achieving equality).
I’ve said previously that I believe each story in Mononoke is a meditation on the many injustices committed against women throughout history, and obviously this story is no exception. As feminist opinion continues to grow and change to encompass more and more of women’s experiences, the topic of sex work is one of those things that’s started to take on more nuance as we recognize people’s rights to choose it as a profession. Recognizing various forms of sex work as valid pursuits and recognizing the inherent human rights of those engaged in them as professions reveals the necessity of developing measures to protect those workers. Believing that to be true, the situation depicted in these episodes stands out as extremely unjust in contrast.
There’s some romanticism that surrounds the “floating world” of Japanese brothels. I’ve seen and read a lot of fiction that focuses more on the outward glamour (and occasional social clout) of the women engaged in prostitution. Since many series set in historical settings are focused on male characters, the consequence is that interactions with women are seen from this perspective. By its very nature it’s a perspective that’s not familiar with women’s inner voices. It’s not even a topic I thought about much until I read Moyoco Anno’s Sakuran, which deals specifically with the social hierarchy of a particular brothel and the women’s lives within it. It was probably one of the first times I saw mentioned the fact that women were often sold into prostitution as payment for their family’s debts. It seems obvious to me now that women didn’t just appear in brothels of their own volition, fully-formed and willing to welcome men into a world of sexual fantasy, but in many pieces of fiction these women seem to enjoy some measure of power and satisfaction within the system; at the very least, they existed as background decoration looking coy and giggling willingly, rather than seeming downtrodden or oppressed.
As Hisayo states, if a prostitute is pregnant or trying to raise a child, then she isn’t able to earn the money she was sold into slavery to earn. It doesn’t matter how much she wants to have that child; whatever small joy that child may bring as way for a captive woman to show genuine love towards something in a situation where the portrayal of false love and affection is part of the job isn’t an argument worth making. I suspect that a prostitute giving birth to and loving a child might even be threatening to the system, because the child may someday see freedom and seek some kind of revenge. Hope, even a small amount, might become a detriment to someone whose only existence is enclosed in a tiny world. I’m reminded here of Bakeneko, which was a story about that very idea – the cat that Tamaki raises as her body and soul wither and die eventually becomes the vengeful spirit that brings her justice. In any case, the choice to abort a pregnancy isn’t really a choice at all, or at least it’s one that doesn’t ever manifest to any mother living her life in captivity. The abortions are for the benefit of a business whose fuel is the souls of enslaved women. It’s that angle, more than the “do-or-do-not” debate about abortion, that feels more appropriate to me in relation to this story in particular.
There’s a lot of interesting visual imagery in this arc that says a lot using very little. One thing I’m ashamed to say that I never noticed until watching the show this time is that there’s a shot outside the hidden room of many faceless figures on a staircase. I didn’t realize until today that (at least judging by their hairstyles), all of these figures are supposed to be men. These figures are heard laughing and having a good time, sharing in the festive atmosphere focused entirely on their pleasure alone. They also completely block the way down and out of the hidden room – a striking implication that is not lost on me. It’s easy to overlook the role that men play in this story, because it’s so focused on Shino, the baby she’s carrying, and the aborted fetuses that form the Zashikiwarashi. But this sly visual reference is a good reminder that men and their willingness to participate in a system that undermines the freedom and person-hood of women by turning them into a form of currency are also at fault; whereas Hisayo and her ilk committed direct harm to women, the men commit indirect harm by making such a system viable. Even Shino knows this; the young master’s love for her only lasted as long as it was a convenient for him, and it was clearly something he was free to withdraw as it suited his situation.
I also like that so much of the episode is a combination of visual elements that both eloquently avoid showing direct violence to fetuses but still do much to convey the horror of what’s happening to the women. The simple image of the red ribbon representing the umbilical cord, coupled with the sounds of ripping, tearing, and blood dropping to the floor, create an image that’s difficult to forget (and which borders on traumatic for those of us who shy away from violence and gore). I also like how the same symbol is used to represent impregnation; as a faceless man and woman are in bed together, the ribbon slowly unrolls from their futon until it reaches one of the daruma dolls that’s used to represent the fetuses. As Shino stands in the blank whiteness facing her own child, the other spirits’ ribbons go off in all directions, separated from their destinations forever. There are so many different statements made using this simple visual metaphor, and that’s really a testament to how well-constructed this series is; the stories themselves aren’t that long but they convey such a wealth of information in a minimal space.
As an aside, I went online to see if any of the characters’ names had any specific meanings, since they’re all uncommon-sounding to me. The kanji in Shino (志乃) are especially unusual (to me, anyway) – the first character is typically “kokorozashi” meaning intention, and the second is a version of the particle “の” which is often used as a feminine-style sentence ending. So her name could be interpreted to mean “it’s my intention.” Knowing her strong, singular intention to give birth to her baby, this certainly makes a lot of sense! Hisayo (久代) has a meaning of “long time” or “old story” and “world, age, or generation.” Hers is certainly a perspective of an older generation, when people did things because that’s just how it was done. The tale of the brothel, of women being taken advantage of, is certainly a timeless and unfortunate tale. It speaks to a perspective that it takes strong intention to initiate change, and those resistant to change will be swept away in the aftermath as Hisayo was.
I have to admit that re-watching this story arc at this point in my life has left me with a lot of complicated feelings. As a younger person I spent so much time and energy trying not to get pregnant, for various reasons (including just not wanting to have children, period). I think may have caused me to be unable to fully identify with Shino. Because I knew a lot of people who were of a similar mindset, for years I never became familiar with the strong desire that some people have to procreate. If you would have asked me at the time, I honestly might have agreed more with Hisayo’s outlook on Shino’s situation – Shino’s “too young and naive” to know what she actually wants, and has no idea how difficult it is to take care of a child, especially now that she’s alone. I hear other people repeating very similar sentiments all the time, about people whose lives they barely know. Now that I’m older and in a very different situation, I can more clearly sympathize with Shino; to be brutally honest, I would give almost anything to see those two pink lines, even if my situation weren’t as ideal as society seems to think it ought to be. How to live and to love and whether or not to give birth are questions where the only easy answers come to those for whom the question has never actually applied, and I think this pair of episodes may remind us that something we may see as either an ill-advised life choice or unfortunate circumstance might be something so incredibly wanted by those involved. Assuming that we “know better” is the insidious line of thinking that allows us to make choices that take away others’ rights and agency, and I feel that there is almost nothing so evil as that.
Thank you again for participating in this journey with me, and hopefully you’re enjoying the series so far. Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments, or simply enjoy watching along with the show. Next week I’ll be looking at the entire next (3 episode) story arc, Umibouzu or “Sea Bishop” as the Crunchyroll translation states (I keep reading it as “Sea Biscuit”).
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