Vessel of the Sword
(July 29, 2016)
1. Introduction
Samurai culture has long been one of the pervasive introductions to Japanese culture presented by the media. In films, songs, games, literature and cultural studies alike, samurais are a constant presence that tie with the country’s history and ideology. Even today, with globalisation in the foreground and new contemporary art and media brandishing the images of the sword and the swordsman alike, samurais still creates a geographical and cultural link to the Land of the Rising Sun. It is natural, then, to question how such an iconic image of the samurai and the sword (katana) has transcended through time, accorded itself new meaning and presents itself to the world as a typical characteristic of Japan.
In this paper, I hope to shed light on the origin of the samurai culture, first, by representations of the sword and the samurai, its connection with Zen Buddhism and creation of a philosophy that would be considered uniquely by and for the samurai class, and how the samurais are depicted in various media today, which is consumed by a global audience. Second, by analysing cultural and literary texts in conjunction with contemporary media depictions, I hope to highlight the traits or qualities that derive from documented and studied samurai lifestyles and ideology, and what messages they carry as representations of samurai culture in today’s globalised world. In doing so, I can then highlight the definition of the title of this paper “Vessel of the Sword”, which I postulate is the true relationship of the samurai and the sword that has created iconic samurai culture.
2.The Sword and the Boy
The apex of samurai culture can be traced to the Tokugawa Period (1603-1867), a time when Japan was finally unified after countless of wars during the Sengoku Jidai (Warring States Period). It is during this period in history, when peace finally reigned throughout the land, that one might think that the use for the sword and the warrior would have passed. However, it is for the very reason of the reigning peace that the appreciation for the sword transcends its initial use for martial glory and conquest, and the creation of the Bushido (or the code of honour and way of the samurai) introduces another facet to the relationship of the samurai and the sword. This relationship, originating from the harsh battlefields, would be put to the test as it endures the calm of the peaceful era, and in the succeeding centuries would become a mythical bond that invites a romanticist view of the life of the samurai. And in order to fully understand the relationship between the samurai and the sword, we must begin by exploring how they first met and the consequent duties and responsibilities it brought.
According to Inazo Nitobe (1969), in his book “Bushido: The Soul of Japan”, the moment a boy (most especially those from samurai families) reaches the age of five, he is adorned with samurai clothing and initiated into the tradition of the military profession by placing a real sword into his obi (131-133). Here, Nitobe explains that the boy is no longer a child to the eyes of society, and having been given his first real sword, must care for it as his new civic duty. So much attention is given to the sword that it must always be seen by his side, that he should never be seen without it when he leaves the house, or that it must be placed above the pillowhead during sleep so that it is within reach in the case of an unforeseen event.
In this ritual “coming of age”, the child is expected to let go of trivial matters and engage with the realities of society which is depicted in the act of replacing his toy sword with a real one. Here, the child must recognise that the blade is no longer dull and a simple mistake could draw blood. Thus, begins the child’s learning of self-control and admiration for the sword that becomes his very own symbol that places him within the context of society.
Furthermore, Nitobe explains that “what he carries in his belt is a symbol of what he carries in his mind and heart – loyalty and honour” (132). It is astonishing to think that a young child would understand these concepts, and yet because of the then status quo, when the samurai was at the top of the hierarchy, the discipline of the warrior was, at that time, to be expected from every samurai boy, continually preserved and passed down through generations.
Such importance to one’s honour and loyalty was inculcated to the children for these reflected the perceptions of their lineage. Here, tradition becomes the primary function of preserving one’s lineage’s prestige. It becomes rigid and forced upon the child, and the child must find it in him to acknowledge this, not as a burden, but as a collective honour and pride. Only then would he be able to inherit, not just the sword but the spirit that comes with it. Karl Fridday (2004) explains that “honor and reputation lay in the heart of a warrior’s self-perception… A samurai’s reputation, honour and pride were almost tangible entities that took precedence over all other obligations…. Honor– or conversely, shame– could reach beyond the warrior himself, and even beyond hi lifespan. [The] Bushi could prosper through the inherited glory of their ancestors or suffer the stigma of their disgrace”(137).
Clearly, there was much pride to be found in the ownership of a sword, primarily because it represented an ideal– an aspired image preserved by tales of conquest and cemented by rituals and tradition. But it was also an intimate relationship, with some swords revered by families as objects that reflect an entire lineage or ideals, with some even given proper names of endearment. And without the constant threat of war during this period, a samurai could then afford to properly care for the sword, such as going through lengths to buy the finest silk for the hilt, the lacquered scabbard of varying hues, and ornately hand-weaved sageyo (or bands that securely fasten the sword to the hakama, so that they would not be taken away by the enemy during combat). Family or clan crests would often be detailed, either as engravings on the scabbard or on the sword’s tsuba (crossguard). The precious act of caring for the sword becomes almost ritualistic that it results in raising the quality and significance of a particular sword, that in passing down as family heirlooms (the sword in this case) it was tantamount to a particular family’s pride and honor. And it is here that the boy’s loyalty will be tested against time, society and himself, as he proves his worth to become the guardian of the family sword. It may take years of dedication and training, but it is considered a great triumph for one who belongs to a samurai family steeped in tradition.
The samurais– as the top class in the hierarchy– were first and foremost seen as heroes that brought an end to the wars and destined leaders of the unified nation, and in doing so, they must become exemplary models for the rest of the common people to emulate. For this end, the Bushido was formed. In another chapter dedicated solely to expounding on the education and training of a samurai, Nitobe cites an example of how an aspiring samurai’s formal education, according to Bushido pedagogics, involves “fencing, archery, jiujitsu (or yawara), horsemanship, the use of the spear, tactics, calligraphy, ethics, literature and history” (95-96). However, it should be noted that the fields found in latter half– in particular calligraphy, literature and history– were designed for honing the intellectual prowess of a samurai befitting his new social class. This can be seen as a homage to the intellectual culture that flourished during the Heian Period (794-1185), considered as the Golden Age of Japan, where court nobles were very knowledgeable of the arts and the way of letters and history. No longer the common foot soldier during the Sengoku Jidai (Warring States Period), the samurai of the Tokugawa Period were learned men, just as they were warriors of the battlefield, akin to aristocracy that demanded wisdom, benevolence and courage– which are believed to be the three pillars of Bushido.
Modern day instances of the sword’s engagement with its samurai can be seen in the BudĹŤ (Japanese traditional martial arts), in particular, Kendo, Kenjutsu and Iaido. In these disciplines, the student is taught of the responsibilities and self-control of handling a sword (a bamboo sword in the case of Kendo). However, the duty of the student does not end with rigorous training of the body in performing different techniques repetitively. Respect, awareness and oneness with the sword is emphasised, and obedience to the teacher as if he were the head of the family (the dojo) that the student belongs to. Here, tradition passes down, not only knowledge, but wisdom, benevolence and courage, as well as the expectations of society and the perception of their peers.
For the modern day student of the sword, this is akin to inheriting a duty that is steeped with history and tradition. Thus, the student becomes the boy who receives his first real sword and he acknowledges it with pride knowing what it entails and what he would become. Most importantly, he realises that he is no longer regarded as a child, and that makes him determined to prove society right in presenting him this tradition.
Although Nitobe was writing from the postwar period of Japan, he looked back to the ancient times, drawing out ideals and inspiration from a society where the samurai was the model class, filled with aspiration, moral control, and strong will-power. As such, the message he wants to illustrate in his book is the right or legacy of every Japanese, that is that they are heirs to a tradition that transcends time, life and death. It is a legacy they are born into, dressed after, educated about, and must continue to preserve. And the object where admiration, past, present, future, and values are directed to is the katana.
3. Spiritual Endeavour
Understanding the samurai’s devotion to the katana can also be a spiritual aspect. In particular, Zen Buddhism has become the epitome of a warrior’s spiritual sanctuary and code. According to The Institute for Zen Studies of Aichi Gakuen University (2016), Zen cannot easily be grasped: “To study Buddhism is to study the self. To study the self is to forget the self. To forget the self is to be enlightened by all things. To be enlightened by all things is to be free from attachment to the body and mind of one’s self and other’s self.” In saying so, Zen is unlike the other forms of Buddhism, where it does not occupy itself to the doctrines and the sutras, but to the lifestyle and acceptance of the world. This allowed the samurai, who was morally strict and abstaining of political power and riches, to find a spiritual guideline that incorporates their lifestyle as warriors. For it is in Zen that they find comfort and meaning to their actions, as well as aspiration for life.
Daisetzu Suzuki, one of the leading scholars in the study of Zen, explains the relationship of Zen and the samurai by tracing its birth and resulting ideology. Back in those days, it was common for the Japanese elite, especially the educated, to choose between devoting one’s life to priesthood or to answer the call of arms and become a samurai. This led to an overlap of interest and finding commonalities in such duties, which, through the teachings and practice of Zen Buddhism, allowed for a marriage of these profession to create what then would be considered as “Bushido” or the “Way of the Warrior”. Suzuki states that: “Bushido is the act of being an unflinching guardian-god of the dignity of the samurai, and this dignity consists in loyalty, filial piety, and benevolence […] Such that to fulfil these, one must attain two things– to train oneself in moral asceticism, not only in its practical aspect but in its philosophical preparation, and to be always read to face death” (69-70). It is, perhaps, this noble and fearless impression of Zen that always rang true and personified in samurais.
“It has no special doctrine or philosophy, no set of concepts or intellectual formulas, except that it tries to release one from the bondage of birth and death, by means of certain intuitive modes of understanding peculiar to it” (Suzuki, 63). Zen was more approachable, more accepting and undefined that the samurai of the past could easily associate themselves in it. It did not require the samurai to become part of the elite nobles, trained in the ways of philosophical engagement and debates, rather, it opted that the samurai find the practicality of life and the significance of their profession and chosen devotion towards the sword. It also fostered, in a spiritual way, the connection of the samurai and the katana by giving a spiritual purpose for the sword’s presence within the samurai’s life. Here, the sword embodies the notion of death, one’s preparedness of death, and the act of releasing a person from the constraints of the temporal world.
Furthermore, Suzuki continues to elaborate the appropriateness of Zen for the samurai, stating that “Zen is a religion of will-power, and will-power is what is urgently needed by the warriors, though it ought to be enlightened by intuition” (63). Here, the never-ending training of the way of the sword, and the constant need to be armed of the samurai class is given justice and further responsibilities. To train is no longer simply about pursuing one’s betterment in swordsmanship, but to lose oneself in the act of drawing the sword to the point that the sword has become part of the self. Thus, the katana as the symbol of death loses its meaning of death with the samurai wholly accepting it as his own personified quality. In one of the episodes written in the Hagakure, Yagyuo Tajima no kami Munenori, a student of Zen Master Takuan and the sword master of then shogun Tokugawa Iyemitsu, explains to a notable guardsman the true value of swordsmanship: “The ultimate secrets of swordsmanship also lie in being released from the thought of death.” (Suzuki, 71). This notion is reinforced by Suzuki in the chapter “Zen and Swordsmanship I”:“It was natural, therefore, for the samurai, who carried two swords – the longer one for attack and defense, and the shorter one for self-destruction when necessary– to train himself with the utmost zeal in the art of swordsmanship. He could never be separated from the weapon that was the supreme symbol of his dignity and honour […] which was conducive to his moral and spiritual enhancement.” (93). As all forms of profession and way of life revolve around certain ideologies, the samurai class found itself comfortably upheld and reinforced by Zen Buddhism. They, whose lives are devoted to warfare and the constant threat of death and uncertain future hanging overhead, found release and dignity at the encompassing nature of Zen that seemingly transcended beyond death itself. Hence, death lost its meaning for the samurai, and the samurai renewed his faith and raison d’ĂŞtre through the presence of the sword.
4. Reflection of the Sword
The Sword and the Mind, by Hiroaki Sato (1986), is a translation of a book that chronicles the lives of three master swordsmen and the ethos they follow. While the book can be acknowledged as a precise manual of sword techniques and purposes (such as societal symbols of the warrior class, a weapon designed for warfare use held and mastered by the stalwart samurais, or its capability to sever life, embody ideals, and signify the aspired image and role model) during the Sengoku Jidai to Edo Periods, it also talks about the role of the sword in a swordsman’s life and combat ethics. This part of the paper will focus on the dual qualities of and perception of the sword.
The first of these qualities refers to the katana as the Death-Dealing Blade. There are many kinds of weapons in the world, and if a person does not have the sufficient knowledge of its use and purpose, they will end up getting killed by it. However, knowledge alone is not enough as one must know the purpose of its usage and proper conduct in order to make use of its full potential. Thus, when Zen Buddhism allowed for a spiritual connection between the swordsman and the katana, the swordsman moves and acts with realisation and awareness of the world. Good and evil are to be recognised and the disciplined warrior will know that his Way is the truth and therefore he will prevail against all evil.
To put it simply, the sword is the embodiment of justice and therefore will strike at evil. The swordsman and the enemy are mere vessels of the sword’s purpose. In the discussion under the “Strategic Thinking in Everything” portion of the book, Sato explains: “It is a prejudice to think that swordsmanship is meant solely to slash an opponent. It is meant not to slash an opponent, but to kill evil (58)”. This way of thinking is deeply rooted to the samurai’s duty as an honourable warrior, loyal to his lord, and whose entire life is devoted into training to perfect the sword’s form in delivering that one strike. And that one strike, when successful in cutting through, is considered the ultimate form of justice over evil– a thought that marries the spiritual endeavour of Zen and the code of Bushido.
In another passage under the “Diseases” portion of the book, Sato further explains this perception: “It is a disease to be obsessed by the thought of winning. It is also a disease to be obsessed by the thought of employing your swordsmanship. So it is to be obsessed by the thought of using everything you have learned, and to be obsessed by the thought of attacking(72)”. Here, by reading this passage with a prior knowledge of Zen, the samurai is perceived as an individual who must be selfless in order to avoid the so-called disease which corrupts both the body and the soul. Only then would the samurai be able to truly swing the Death-dealing Blade that vanquishes true evil, and not be corrupted by the obsession of the sword which could ultimately lead to his own transformation into an evil entity.
Though the first quality goes against Heaven’s Way– which is to keep all things alive– the sword must pursue justice by killing. This is often referred to as justified acts and would constitute katana’s connection to its second quality as the Life-Giving Sword. A passage in the book states: “At times, because of one man’s evil, thousands of people suffer… So you kill that one man in order to let the thousands live… Here, truly the blade that deals death could be the sword that gives life (Sato, 56).” In this argument, what supplies the justice of the action is the outcome. Morality is suspended as duty becomes a matter of great importance. However, there are still certain things to consider when engaging the enemy. As in every combat sport, the ultimate goal is to win, but to do so, one must be prepared to defend himself while engaging the enemy before that final strike. It is here that one’s spiritual training of Zen would come into place. By freeing the mind of all thoughts, even his own plans of attack and the enemy’s, the samurai does not open himself by interpretation for the enemy. In doing so, the enemy may be provoked to take the first move of attack, of which the samurai’s body will then move, by memory (again without the Mind as an obstacle with hesitation and doubts) to trump the opponent. In essence, this scenario perceives the sword as Life-Giving towards the samurai and what he stands for, defending him and allowing for the samurai to strike and deal to the opponent the Death-dealing Blade.
These two qualities and perceptions of the sword are always working together, and with other disciplines learned such as the various forms and swordsmanship, Zen Buddhism and Bushido. In Yamamoto Tsumetomo’s Hagakure (2014), the ideas of these two qualities may not be written accordingly, but by analysing the descriptive explanations and discussion, the ideas of the Death-Dealing Blade and Life-Giving Sword are to be found. Dr. Alexander Bennett, in his Introduction of the Hagakure, presents that: “the underlying theme of Hagakure is the absolute loyalty to one’s lord to the extent that a warrior must be prepared to die in the course of duty, a notion symbolised by the legendary phrase, ‘The Way of the Warrior is to be found in dying’ (14).
While the truth remains that the samurai is far from being the ideal warrior, as they were once brigands, thieves and outcasts who took up the sword for survival, and even the exploits of the great warlords were marred by many deaths, injustice for the sake of glory and conquest, the Hagakure presents a vital point of view of the samurai’s life and code in many ways as there are truths. However, this may have birthed a ‘cult-like’ following to inspire the nation for an ultranationalist militarised Japan during WW2, thus becoming a root of controversies and criticised for its nature as an educational tool that fosters such likelihood. Still, Dr. Bennett explains that “Depending on one’s point of view, Hagakure represents a mystical beauty intrinsic to the Japanese aesthetic experience, and a stoic but profound appreciation of the meaning of life and death…” (15). And it is this appreciation of life and death that resonates well to the samurai’s relationship with sword, for the sword becomes the manifestation of the will and the samurai is its medium to which the actions and goals are put into motion. This resonates well to the virtues and spiritual guidance provided by Zen Buddhism.
5. Popular Culture Depictions
At this juncture, I will be analysing two samurai depictions, and one in-world ideology (within the concept of the narrative of the film) as shown in popular culture today, two from the anime and manga sector made in Japan, and the other from one of the recent top-selling JRPGs (Japanese Role Playing Games) in the market. In doing so, I will be giving a brief character introduction and explain the qualities of a samurai that they embody.
The first example is the samurai character of Roronoa Zoro from the anime and manga series of One Piece by Eiichiro Oda. In this long running series(1997 to present), Zoro is one of the main characters, part of the Straw Hat Pirate Crew that sails across the world in search for the greatest treasure called One Piece. The setting of the story is clearly defined in the beginning as a world similar to Earth, but not Earth per se. Here, there are many island-nations and kingdoms that make up the world, and where pirates and the navy (or the World Government) have a long history of fighting wars to attain peace and freedom, which continues to the current narrative. Zoro was first introduced to the audience as a pirate hunter seeking glory to become the world’s greatest swordsman, before he joined the Straw Hat Pirates as his way of repaying the captain’s efforts in saving his life. Thus, he vowed his undying loyalty to the captain. Though the character was a direct reference from the American TV character Zorro, Oda departs from the concept of a fencer, and brings in qualities of a samurai in order to create the character. And while there is no clear explanation as of this writing if the country Zoro was born at has any semblance to Japan, it is, however, stated multiple times that he has spent most of his childhood in a dojo, practicing the sword (katana in form) and learning from a swordsmaster.
There are many reasons to consider Zoro as a samurai. Firstly, “Embracing Death is One’s Duty”. At the conclusion of the battle in the Thriller Bark Arc (Chapters 442-489; Episodes 338-381), Zoro presents himself to the enemy warlord in the stead of his wounded Captain. He sacrifices himself by having all of his captain’s wounds transferred into him by the warlord’s power even when he was already injured himself. He also stopped a fellow crew member (the Chef of their crew) from sacrificing himself in the process, stating that he was a warrior and it was his duty to die for the crew if needed. Though he was left at the brink of death, he survived the ordeal. In another instance, during the Baratie Arc (Chapters 42-68; Episodes 19-30), Zoro is defeated by the current world’s greatest swordsman, and though the latter wanted to spare his life, Zoro insisted that it would be his shame to live from a battle he has lost. So he dared the enemy swordsman to cut him from the front, declaring that if fate would have it, he would survive, but if not, there is no better death than to die by the sword. He survives the ordeal and wears the scar of the sword cut on his chest as a constant reminder of his defeat, while it also shows any observer that Zoro has no qualms against dying if the circumstances require it.
A second quality is his “Relationship with the Sword”. In the Lougetown Arc (Chapters 96-100; Episodes 45-53), Zoro arrives in a sword shop in search for a new sword to replace the ones that broke, since he insists that he uses three swords. In his search, he explains that he will instantly know if the sword is right as his instincts will tell him that his heart and soul are in tune with the sword. When faced with potentially buying a cursed sword, he asserts his confidence and trust towards the sword by throwing the sword upward and thrusting out his hand with the condition that if the blade of the sword leaves even the smallest scratch on his arm, then the blade is not meant for him, but if in the moment the twirling of the blade as it descends would miss hitting his arm, then it was now fate that ties them together. In the end of Thriller Bark Arc (Chapters 442-489; Episodes 338-381), Zoro places one of his battle-worn swords on a grave, giving it its final resting place, believing that in doing so, the spirit of the sword will be appeased as well as showing his great respect for the sword. In another instance, during the Ennies Lobby Arc (Chapters 375-430; Episodes 264-312), Zoro makes it known that he could sense the feelings of his swords. Though one could debate that this was just his way of threatening the enemy by claiming that he could tell that his sword is craving for blood, his full trust and closeness with sword convinces his entire crew that he has an intimate relationship with sword, enough to tell when the sword is calm or angry. Going back to the notion that he prefers three swords can be a direct reference to his special attack called “Ashura” or Asura which is a deity in Buddhism, often characterised as having three bodies.
The third quality is his “Sense of Loyalty and Treatment towards Cowards and Defectors”. In the Water Seven Arc (Chapters 322-374; Episodes 229-263), Zoro is disgusted by the way one of the crew members decides to go against their captain’s orders. Later, when the crew member had decided to quit the group, Zoro admonishes him for his cowardice, and when there was a possibility for that crew member to return to their group, he was vehemently against the idea, stating that the latter’s loyalty is questionable and that he could never respect someone who questions the authority of their captain.
The fourth quality is his “Respect for Powerful Enemies”. In the Baratie Arc (Chapters 42-68; Episodes 19-30), Zoro is awestruck in the presence of the world’s strongest swordsman, immediately presenting himself to the latter for a duel. He states that it was an honor to meet the man, and after his defeat, he did not want to be spared by the latter. He insisted he be struck down properly and that there was no better death than to be cut down by the world's strongest swordsman. In another instance, during the Thriller Bark Arc (Chapters 442-489; Episodes 338-381), he meets the undead samurai Ryoma and quickly recognises the latter’s talent. He insists that their fight be just between the two of them, without involving his crew-mates. He did this in order to put his full attention into the fight.
Finally, another quality is his “Daily Training and Goal”. As he had already declared that his aim is to become the world’s greatest swordsman, all through-out the series, he could be seen doing his intense training (such as dead-lifting weights or doing sword-swings), and at times is used for comedic effect (such as training even in his sleep, or swimming in icy waters to strengthen the body).
In the latest movie special, One Piece Heart of Gold, Zoro makes a Buddhist reference when he confronts his opponent, Naomi, who is a drunkard and fallen into multiple vices, before he defeats her, not through killing but through overwhelming presence and with a 1-slash move that he infers as cutting through her “defiled state”1.
The second example I would like to use for this paper is Ryouma, Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Hoshido from the latest entry (released in June 25, 2015) of the JRPG series Fire Emblem, “Fire Emblem: If” (called ‘Fire Emblem: Fates’ in international release). The world setting of the game is also similar to Earth. Here, there are two rivalling powers, the Kingdom of Nohr, based on the concept of European Knights, and the Kingdom of Hoshido, which is very much “asian” styled but dominantly of samurai culture. It should be noted that among the characters, Ryouma is considered one of the strongest playable characters, and his character class as a “Swordmaster” allows him to have excellent movement, and deal critical blows. Game mechanic-wise, his character class is considered an “endgame” type which is difficult to attain from the beginning of the game. This makes Ryouma, who starts with such a class from the beginning of the game, an important character that the player can use to easily clear the game. However, as a JRPG, there is more to his character than simply being a playable option, as the narrative of the game seemingly puts him as one of the central figures even if he is not the main character. Thus, the game devotes time for his character development.
In the following, I will list few instances where Ryouma portrayed the essence of a samurai just as I have discussed earlier. First is his adherence to “Daily Training”. In the Support Interface (conversation sequences between characters that can trigger support bonuses for in-game battle sequences), Ryouma’s interaction with his siblings and followers involve training hard to perfect one’s skill with the weapon. He also explains that by having sufficient power, he and his people can protect the peace and serve justice in the world.
Another quality is his principle “To fight with Honour and seek Justice”. In playing the Birthright Mode (wherein the player chooses to side with Hoshido, and Nohr is the enemy), it is revealed that Ryouma wants to end the war in order to provide peace, not just for his people, but for the other tribes, and even with Nohr. This is because he believes that a war that seeks only to destroy or to conquer is not a ‘just war’, while the idea of ‘fighting to protect something’ is much more honourable. At the same time, when his mother was killed along with innocent people during an assassination bombing in Hoshido, he clearly states that while they are fighting to seek justice for those who were caught in the brewing war, this war should not be about vengeance. He also expresses his disgust with the Nohrian General Macbeth, who utilises stratagems involving sacrifices of his own men, as well as creating internal dispute within the enemy camp. Ryouma calls these acts cowardly.
Another quality is his “Relationship with the Sword”. In the Support Interface with his son Shiro (Shinonome in the Japanese Version), Ryouma explains that the Raijinto (name of his sword) is a legacy of the Hoshido Royal Family, passed down amongst kings, and only the deserving can inherit it. As such, he encourages Shiro to train further, not just his physical talent but his spiritual and mental outlook in life.2 Furthermore, Ryouma’s character statistics are at its maximum capacity when he is equipped with Raijinto, proving that his long relationship with that specific sword is unlike the others, allowing him to perform incredible feats in the battlefield. The sword, as an inherited object in the royal family, is also the symbol of power and duty to his kingdom, of which he must always be seen carrying around with. In all character arts, Ryouma is always depicted with the sword next to him, whether he is in battle armour or not.
Finally, another quality is his “Honourable Sacrifice or Seppuku”. In Chapter 25 of the Conquest Mode (wherein the player chooses to side with Nohr and Hoshido is the enemy), after Ryouma is defeated by the player, the player is placed in a difficult situation as he is forced to kill Ryouma but does not want to. In order to protect the player from being branded a traitor, Ryouma decides to take his own life as a form of sacrifice and release the player from the burden of murder. He does this in the manner of seppuku or thrusting his sword into his stomach and then slicing through to the side. He does this, in belief that the player will honour his word to protect Hoshido and the rest of the surviving royal family on his behalf.
Finally, with regard to the “in-world” ideology that conveys the sword’s relationship to the warrior, we take a look into the world of beasts and divine beings from the animated film “Bakemono no Ko” (2015) by Mamoru Hosoda. The film is about a boy from the real world who ran away from home after the death of his mother and was picked up a traveling beast warrior who decided to find an apprentice from the human world. The boy, Ren, ends up following the beast warrior, Kumatetsu, into the world of beasts and divine beings, where he begins his new life as an apprentice warrior. He is taught of the sword, but in order to truly learn how to be a warrior, they journeyed and sought for the words of the wise masters, most of whom advised Ren that the power is within himself. And in the years to come, Ren becomes a powerful warrior that Kumatetsu could be proud of. However, as disaster strikes and Ren had to chase his rival, Ichirouhiko, into the human world in order to settle their dispute, Kumatetsu sacrificed himself in order to be turned into the sword that would not shatter and eternally protect Ren. Thus, at the final scene, when Ren’s ordinary sword broke from Ichirouhiko’s attack, Kumatetsu arrived to save him in the form of a sword that vanishes into Ren’s chest. And that one strike that frees Ichirouhiko from the evil entity that possesses him is done when Ren draws out the “sword of the soul” (for his bond with Kumatetsu who is now the sword has made the sword the strongest there is, as well as the divine in some ways) that delivers justice and freedom to the plagued rival, saving the latter’s life but killing the evil entity.
From these depictions, we can derive that the traits mostly showcased by these examples of samurai in popular culture are: (1) their strict adherence to one’s duty; (2) familiarity and acceptance of death; (3) respect for their swords; (4) sense of honour in the battlefield, toward allies and enemies alike; and (5) never-ending training of their swordsmanship. By citing these, we can deduce that the ideal warrior that popular culture wants to portray borrows from the traits of a samurai, and in doing so, they always put importance on the character’s relationship with their sword readdressing the varying circumstances of their worlds. Thus, what is being romanticised by popular culture is the “ideal”, not necessarily the “real”, as most of the traits that are depicted are supported by a charismatic character whose sense for justice and honour are well established and continued to be portrayed. And that the means of carrying out these perceptions is the presence of the sword which symbolises their purpose and duty, of which both the characters and the audience are made to be always aware of.
6. Conclusion
The image of the samurai has become synonymous to the culture and image of Japan, not only as a country of advanced technology, but a land of the warriors filled with honour, glory and pride that transcended through time. Alexander Bennett (2014), in his Introduction to Yamamoto Tsunetomo’s Hagakure, quotes Harumi Befu (1972) from his book “Japan: An Anthropological Introduction”, referring to this phenomenon known as “samuraization” of the Japanese people, wherein the the specific characteristics such as loyalty, perseverance, and diligence that were said to be held by a small (but elite) segment of the population – the image of the samurai, specifically the quality of being a loyal, dutiful, selfless servant of the country– was gradually extended through propaganda, education, and regulation to cover the whole population (13). Thus, it is not surprising that samurai culture fill media content, especially in novels, anime and manga, which are known world-wide. New avenues such as the game industry and reenactment festivals and celebrations that are open for public viewing, have allowed a furthering of the mystification of the samurai culture of a glorious warrior past.
Further elaborating on this image of the samurai, Bennett explains that “to the samurais, martial ability was an expression of individual strength and valor, and symbolic of their distinctive subculture as specialist combatants […] They abided by Zen idioms, philosophy, code of honour and upheld loyalty forged between the retainer and lord, for whom the classic war tales (gunki monogatari) frequently inform us the warrior would gladly forfeit his life” (17.) It is this strict sense of duty and glory that are frequent in such actions and status as a samurai that creates a romanticist view of what were truly considered the best of amongst warriors. It was not merely strength, but also leadership, self-control, and the ever acceptance of the temporality (a non-fixed state) of life and death, that makes the samurai poetic in the eyes of the modern people. For unlike the world today where everything must be fast, intricately complex, and we are bombarded by images and sounds and ideologies, the world of the samurais (for how else could they have adapted such a lifestyle and creed) seems simpler, brutal but delicate, and much more engaging than the ever evolving world of today. Bennett summarises this idea in that: “the perilous lifestyle of Sengoku warriors and their exploits were looked upon nostalgically by future generations as “the good old days” where samurai were real mean, and those who dared won, or died in the process” (18).
In conclusion, samurai culture will continue to transcend through time, becoming relevant in each era because of the meaning it stands for an unwavering justice performed with self-control and discipline that lives in the moment as it appreciates life and death, with a poetic and aristocratic aesthetic, yet profoundly achievable by the ordinary man who dedicates his entire life as the modern warrior. And in carving the legacy, the image of the samurai is never without the sword, nor without the concept of “life and death” together. It is the inherent meaning of the complete image that makes them who they are, and not when these parts of the image are isolated on their own. They provide the key elements of the actor, the ideology, the culture, and the myth as shown in the media today.
To end this paper, I quote a dialogue from the animated film of “Bakemono no Ko” that perfectly delivers the message of the relationship of the samurai and the sword and its myth to today’s society– the scene where Kumatetsu encourages Ren at the final confrontation to sever the evil entity plaguing the rival character of Ichirouhiko: “Grab the sword in your soul!” Thus, the sword is the will, the samurai is the vessel, and from their bond, the action of drawing and striking the katana becomes the ultimate form of justice.
7. Citations
1. Aichi Gakuin University. About Zen. Web. Institute of Zen Studies Aichi Gakuin University. Accessed on July 18, 2016 at http://zenken.aichi-gakuin.ac.jp/english/aboutzen.html.
2. Bakemono No Ko. Dir. Mamoru Hosoda. Studio Map, 2015. Film.
3. Fridday, Karl. Samurai, Warfare and the State In Early Medieval Japan. New York: Routledge, 2004. Print.
4. Kaga, Shozo, and Gunpei Yokoi. Fire Emblem: Fates. Tokyo: Intelligent Systems, 2015. Nintendo 3DS Game.
5. Nitobe, Inazo. Bushido: The Soul of Japan. Tokyo, Japan: Tuttle Company, 1969. Print.
6. One Piece. Dir. Eiichiro Oda. Toei, 1996-2016. Film.
7. Sato, Hiroaki. The Sword And The Mind. New York: The Overlook Press, 1986. Print.
8. Suzuki, Daisetz. Zen and the Japanese Culture. New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1970. Print.
9. Tsunetomo, Yamamoto. Hagakure: The Secret Wisdom of the Samurai. Trans. Alexander Bennett. Singapore: Tuttle Publishing, 2014. Print.
8. Endnotes
1 A Transcription during the battle between Zoro and Naomi in One Piece Heart of Gold Movie Special
(While parrying Naomi’s arrows)
Zoro: Eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, mind. Those six sense organs have senses of… good, bad and neutral! Then each of those 18 senses are classified into the purified and defiled states! One life, thirty-six desires!
2 A Transcript of the “Support Conversation” between Ryouma and Shiro
Support Scenario Level C
Shiro: Hey, Dad?
Ryoma: What is it, Shiro? Have you come to challenge me again?
Shiro: No, it’s not that…
Ryoma: Really? That’s rare… Then what do you want? Speak your mind.
Shiro: Well. The truth is, I… I’m very intersted in your sword.
Ryoma: My sword?
Shiro: Yeah. Was it custom made? I’ve never seen another blade like it. The design is so ornate. Everything about it seems special.
Ryoma: Hmm. It’s true that Raijinto is unique… Hoshidan kings have passed it down from generation to generation.
Shiro: Wow… So you’re saying that my ancestors once used it?
Ryoma: It was my father’s weapon of choice. Watching him wield it on the battlefield always inspired awe in me. I yearned to have the blade for myself.
Shiro: Interesting. I understand the feeling.
Ryoma: One day, you will inherit this sword. However, you are not yet ready. You lack the discipline and preparedness of a king. Your impetuous nature makes it clear that you aren’t ready to lead.
Shiro: Why would I be ready? I had no clue that I was royalty until I came to this world!
Ryoma: Yes, that’s true.
Shiro: Are you concerned about my capabilities? I’ll continue to develop my skills. i will prove myself to you. I’ve gotten much stronger since leaving the Deeprealms. I’ve even bested you from time to time when we train. You know how much I’ve improved.
Ryoma: You’ve grown as a warrior, certainly. But I’m concerned about your unhealthy fixation on winning.
Shiro: What are you talking about?! I mean, I DID become a spear fighter to beat you in sparring. But I wouldn’t say that I’m OBSESSED with winning, exactly.
Ryoma: You only use a spear to try and gain the upper hand? Unbelievable…
Shiro: Yeah!
Ryoma: *sigh* That reductive thinking proves how much you still have to learn… You will never inherit this sword with your mind-set. I need some fresh air. I think I’ll go outside to clear my head…
Shiro: Ah, come on! Don’t storm off! Daaaaaddd! My attitude is not THAT bad…
Support Scenario Level B
Shiro: Ha! Hiya!
Ryoma: … Keep an eye on that temper of yours, Shiro. It weakens you.
Shiro: What?! D-Dad, you were watching me train?
Ryoma: I was. Apparently you even lack the composure to even observe my presence. Be mindful of your surroundings. Otherwise your training is meaningless. Tell me… Why are you practicing?
Shiro: It’s what we talked about before. How I won’t inherit the sword with my attitude. I was thinking about that… Honestly, I was pretty mad, so I decided to blow off some steam.
Ryoma: Hmph. I see. Shiro, do you recall the conversation we had after leaving the Deeprealms?
Shiro: Huh?
Ryoma: We talked about what it takes to rule. Fairness, patience. Compassion. To be a good king, you must have strength and you must be ever prepared.
Shiro: You were saying that a king has to take responsibility for their actions, right? They must be mindful of taking lives, even to protect their own people.
Ryoma: Yes, I’m glad you remember. If a king seeks only to triumph on the field of battle, he knows not how to lead. If a king is focused only on winning battles, he misses what’s really important. You do not fight for glory. You fight to preserve the future of the kingdom. Don’t ever lose sight of that.
Shiro: Y-yeah, you’re right. I think I understand why you said I’m too concerned with strength. Maybe I’m just not ready yet.
Ryoma: Don’t be discouraged. You remembered my words all on your own, yes? That means my wisdom has taken root. You are still learning.
Shiro: Dad…
Ryoma: I simply wish to push you in a thoughtful direction. It’s obvious to me that you’re improving by leaps and bounds. Hold fast to your conviction and preparedness. They will take you far. if ever you’re lost, know that I will always help you find your way.
Shiro: Thank you.
Ryoma: It’s my duty as your father. You should always feel free to discuss whatever is on your mind with me.
Shiro: OK! I will!
Support Conversation Level A
Shiro: Hey, Dad, do you have a minute?
Ryoma: Certainly. What is on your mind, Shiro?
Shiro: Remember our conversation the other day?
Ryoma: About preparedness and responsibility? Sure, I remember.
Shiro: You should know that I won’t forget my promise. I need to make sure and focus to keep my wits about me. So I went ahead and did this. Take a look…
Ryoma: What? Oh. You etched a phrase to the back of your arm guard, eh? These words… So you’ve recorded your resolve.
Shiro: I never want to forget what’s most important. That’s why I decided to etch a reminder. Like you said, I’m still inexperienced. I don’t know if I’m worthy or even capable of being the next king. Honestly, I doubt that Raijinto would want to be anywhere near me.
Ryoma: Shiro…
Shiro: The last thing I want is for the line of successors to end with you… For the sake of you, Grandfather, and all the others who have wielded Raijinto… I must be prepared to take the lives of my enemies and protect the kingdom. Even if I get caught up in the heat of the battle, I will not forget my resolve… This arm guard will serve as a constant remind, in peace and war.
Ryoma: …I see. You’re turning into a fine man.
Shiro: Huh? What do you mean?!
Ryoma: Hearing you speak so passionately makes me very proud. You’re making great strides toward becoming king, Shiro.
Shiro: R-really? It feels so odd to be praised by you.
Ryoma: Ha! Have I embarrassed you?
Shiro: Haha. Maybe a little bit.
Ryoma: Heh. You’ll have to forgive me…
Shiro: Just know that eventually I’m going to get the upper hand when we spar! And perhaps eventually I will be worthy of inheriting Raijinto. I will become strong both for my country… and for my people.
Ryoma: I have very high hopes for you.
Comments
Post a Comment