It is part of the structure of every tale that a time for the character’s departure will be the starting point of another story. Structurally, Campbell, in his book “The Hero With A Thousand Faces” (2004) labels this as “the first stage of the mythological journey– a call to adventure– which signifies that destiny has summoned the hero and transferred his spiritual centre of gravity from within the pale of his society to a zone unknown” (53). This type of journey is no different from the notion of exile. Defined as the state or period of forced/voluntary absence from one’s country or home, exile can also suggest a journey of its own purpose. In this paper, I will use this framework in discussing the following exilic tales: one from the Tales of Ise, and the other about Atsumori from the Tale of the Heike, which was adapted into a Noh play. In particular, I will discuss the circumstances of their exile, how their characters are to be treated as a hero, their journey, and the end of their tale resulting from their choices. To aid in the discussion, I will be quoting certain instances from the texts of Tales of Ise and the Noh play script, as well as cross-referencing it with Campbell’s explanation of the hero’s journey.
First of all, we must analyse the characters in exile. From the Tales of Ise, the 9th story’s exilic figure is of a man who leaves the capital in search of a province to the east where he could settle away from the sin he has committed in the capital (implied as having slept with the emperor’s wife). This unnamed character is, first and foremost, known to have come from the capital which means that he is of noble status, and the very notion that he found his life in the capital unsatisfying that it became useless and dangerous for him to stay there, suggests that his life has only revolved within that place, which could make this expedition a dangerous one. Thus, in this case, it is the “search for solace and security” that propels him for a self-imposed exile from the place he had known for a long time.
Meanwhile, in the case of Atsumori from the Tale of the Heiki, it was his demise during the Genji War that forces him to begin his “state of exile” in becoming a lost soul who cannot accept his death. This is further explained as his participation to the war was not of his own choice, being one who loved music and arts, thus resentment may have prompted for his soul not to move on. This is clearly depicted near the beginning of the play where the Reapers (Atsumori included) have their monologue in page 287: “Short is the way that leads from the sea of Suma back to my home. This little journey, up to the hill and down to the shore again, and up to the hill– This is my life, and the sum of hateful tasks. If one should ask me, I too, would answer that on the shore of Suma I live in sadness. Yet if any guessed my name, then might I too have friends? But now from my deep misery, even those that were dearest are grown estranged. Here must I dwell abandoned to one thought’s anguish: ‘That I must dwell here.’”.
Here, we can see that the circumstances surrounding their exilic journeys differ both in purpose and choice, with one acted out “voluntarily for his own safety” and the other “forced upon” resulting into an eternal limbo of uncertainties and sufferings. This also prompts us to examine our two heroes. The first is to be regarded as a hero in the sense that he is the main character of the episode of that particular tale of Ise, having to undergo an exilic journey that we can sympathise because of his sorrow to subject himself into the wilderness of the world beyond the capital in order to atone for his sins and perhaps find sanctuary until the time is right for him to return to the capital once more. The other – Atsumori – is a hero in his journey to attain salvation after becoming a ghost who is trapped to dwell in the realm in between the living and the afterlife, often recounting his own demise. Thus, even in the way they are to be treated as heroes of their respective stories, they are opposites in their goals and condition.
Proceeding, we now examine their respective journeys of exile. The unnamed man from the Tales of Ise goes on a journey with his friends, hoping to be free from the dangers of the capital as well as finding solace in the unknown world. The entire narration is a mixture of prose (brief descriptions of the locations they pass through) and poems (challenges they put out to themselves in describing the sceneries). From this, we can gather that they are high-born to use poetry as their means of expression, which can also mean that they are unfamiliar to the wilderness beyond the capital’s walls. However, throughout the journey, while the prose would describe the locations they go to with objectivity, their composed poems were filled with emotions, and in each poem that represented their journey, the feelings portrayed were of worry towards life back in the capital and how they missed it so. Such examples can be found on the poems from page 75 that talked about his grief for the wife he left behind, and in the last poem to be found in page 76, the poem is addressed to the “capital bird”, which the man metaphorically addresses as the capital he left behind and inquires it about the well-being of his wife left behind. It should also be noted that each poem’s sense of grief increases with narrative description on how the characters react to it, such as “They all wept onto their dried rice until it swelled with the moisture” (McCullough, 75), and “Everyone in the boat burst into tears” (McCullough,76). We can assume, then, that the displayed emotions shows their regret for leaving the capital, but one that was born from their self-conscious choice of leaving. And the emotions could only intensify as they are aware of the choices they have made, and throughout the journey they did not turn around and go back to the capital.
In contrast, the exilic journey of Atsumori’s spirit was forced because of its resentment of his death. A journey to the life beyond the living was not his choice and yet he was presented with a stagnating afterlife that proved to be a nightmare, as he could only recount the time of his death, again and again. The story of Atsumori ends with the warrior responsible for his death devoting the rest of his life to becoming a priest, renamed as Rensei, and praying for Atsumori’s soul. This, however, is given a longer narrative and proper ending in the Noh play adaptation. In the play, Atsumori’s soul that turns into a reaper, journeys with other reapers before he meets the priest Rensei once more, who was his reformed killer. One prominent part of the play that shows Atsumori’s grief and anger of his death is shown in the latter half of the play, where he now dons his warrior’s uniform and speaks of striking down the monk – which will be given more discussion at the last part of this paper. However, looking back at the first half of the play, the article that was first to distinguish him was his flute, has now been replaced by his full warrior’s garment and the sword that he would use to exact his revenge and kill the monk.
In both examples, the notion of being in this new environment or situation, which has thrown them off-centre of gravity from which they were comfortable, had created such internal strife that their reactions such as lamentation and anger are to be natural consequences of their exilic journey. Campbell explains: “Conversely, all moments of separation and new birth proceed anxiety” (48). Again, we see a difference to the resulting anxieties– one, being an intense desire to flee from the dangers he caused with no clear action of undoing it; and the other, being an intense hatred to the point of re-enacting his death and in extension, his just revenge– which can be tied to the origin of their exilic journeys.
Now coming to the end of both stories, we see another contrasting image in the movement of the story. In the example from the Tales of Ise, we see that despite the longing and the remorse that the unnamed character and his companions expressed, their tale ends with them pushing forth on their journey. This is clearly described in the text: “The ferryman interrupted their laments: ‘Come aboard quickly; it’s getting late.’ They got into the boat and prepared to cross, all in wretched spirits, for there was not one among them who had not left someone dear to him in the capital” (McCullough, 76). This echoes, once more, that they are conscious of their decisions to go into this journey, their stubbornness to return, and their plight of constant sorrows. Therefore, while the characters in this story are, indeed, moving forward between places, their development as a character, moves in an opposite direction towards their longing for what was left behind, if not completely unmoving at all, since they refuse to correct the situation they are in and being conscious of the never-ending cycle of sorrow that is to come.
As for the conclusion of Atsumori’s tale, in the end, both the warrior-garbed Atsumori and the priest Rensei realise that the only true salvation for them is to forget past transgressions and be reborn into the same lotus paradise. This comes from hearing that the priest would continue to pray for the salvation of his soul, and that Atsumori felt contented at hearing those words. Once more, their characters come to life by the priest’s strict adherence to his devotion and prayers, and Atsumori’s noble lineage, which would mean that he is well-educated in matters of religion as well, and therefore knows the meaning behind the priest’s words. Campbell also describes this part of the structure at the end of the hero’s journey under the subtitle ‘Freedom to Live’: “The goal of the myth is to dispel the need for such life ignorance by effecting a reconciliation of the individual consciousness with the universal will. And this is effected through a realisation of the true friendship of the passing phenomena of time to the imperishable life that lives and dies in all [….] Man in the world of action loses his centering in the principle of eternity if he is anxious for the outcome of his deeds, but resting them and their fruits on the knees of the Living God he is released by them, as sacrifice, from the bondages of the sea of death” (221). Here, Campbell’s explanation serves to mirror how this particular Noh play was used in the early times as way to teach Buddhist precepts. It is through the development of the scenario according to Campbell’s description will there be a rewarding ending to the tale of Atsumori; ergo, the return/salvation of the hero. This translates with Atsumori’s forgiveness of the priest Rensei, and the latter’s own conviction to pray for Atsumori’s soul’s salvation that the two of them will be able to achieve peace, and that their cycle of suffering in the mortal realm would end. This is clearly depicted in a conversation in pages 289-290:
“[Priest:] Is it not written that one prayer will wipe away ten thousand sins? Ceaselessly I have performed the ritual of the Holy Name that clears all sin away. After such prayers, what evil can be left? Though you should be sunk in sin as deep…
[Atsumori:] As the sea by a rocky shore, yet should I be saved by prayer.
[Priest:] And that my prayers should save you…
[Atsumori:] This too must spring from kindness of a former life.
[Priest:] Once enemies….
[Atsumori:] But now…
[Priest:] In truth may we be named…
[Atsumori:] Friends in Buddha’s Law.”
Again, the scene is reprised at the very end of the play at page 293, after Atsumori recounts the tale proceeding to his death, but now the tables are turned, and Atsumori rises from the ground, advances towards the priest Rensei with his sword raised and ready to strike:
“‘There is my enemy,’ he cries, and would strikes, but the other is grown gentle and calling on Buddha’s name has obtained salvation for his foe; so that they shall be reborn together on one lotus seat. ‘No, Rensei is not my enemy. Pray for me again, oh pray for me again.’”
In conclusion, in both tales, even if one is a short episode and the other had been lengthened through a different format (play), their exilic journeys follow the formulaic structure of a story, which in turn, created depth in their narratives. Both are heroes with different motives and goals. In addition, their exiles, though opposite in conditions, purpose and ending, provokes an imagery of movement that is a result of the factors that led them to their journey in the first place.
References:
1. Campbell, Joseph. The Hero With a Thousand Faces. Commemorative Edition. USA: Princeton University Press, 2004. Print.
Columbia University. “Example of a Noh Play: Atsumori”. No Drama. Asia for Educators, Columbia University. Web. 22 Jan 2016. Accessed at http://afe.easia.columbia.edu/at/noh/nd04.html
2. “Exile”. Def. 1. Merriam-Webster Online. Merriam-Webster, n.d. Web. 22 Jan 2016. Accessed at http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/exile
3. TheNOH.com Editors. “Atsumori”. Database Plays. TheNOH.com. Web. 22 Jan 2016. Accessed at http://www.the-noh.com/en/plays/data/detail_008.html.
4. Tales of Ise: Lyrical Episodes from Tenth-Century Japan. Trans. Helen Craig McCullough. Japan, 1968. pages 74-76. Print.
5. The Tales of the Heike. Trans. Burton Watson. New York: Columbia University Press, 2006.
6. Zeami Motokiyo. “Atsumori.” Trans. Arthur Waley. Anthology of Japanese Literature: From the Earliest Times to the Mid-nineteenth Century. Ed. Donald Keene. Tokyo: Tuttle Publishing, 1956. 286-293. Print.
(January 24, 2016)
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