Thursday, September 25, 2014

Namiko- Book Three

Book Three of Hototogisu, commonly known as Namiko, by Kenjiro Tokutomi is the third part to story that contains action, the hope of love reigniting, and of survival, with an ultimately tragic ending.

There are many aspects of melodrama that we see continued in this story. One prominent example of this is the idea that Ito suggests that a release of class structure and family creates negative coincidences for characters, thus allowing for this melodrama to occur. Ito suggests that the “institution” that is responsible for Nami’s misfortune is the ie. Nami’s illness threatens the continuation of Takeo’s ie, and the marriage must be terminated to prevent this. Ito also suggests that the book is a comment on family and gender in the Japanese society, and how the characters are introduced and “framed around the context of their social positions.” With this whole change in Japanese society during this wartime, perhaps Ito is commenting on the discourse that this changing class structure has brought to society and the negative effects it has.

Ito also brings up the idea of the “dokufu.” Through Book Three we see this appearance of the “dokufu”, or “poison woman” and the consequences to others characters that this “dokufu” causes. For example, we see Takeo’s mother as a “dokufu,” and how her ending of her son’s marriage ultimately causes all of these hardships for her son and Nami. One can say that Takeo’s mother subsequently causes Nami’s death from heartbreak. Takeo’s mother seems to take on this role of both that has both masculine and femine characteristics, maybe in part because of the fact that she is a widow. However, as readers, we sometimes may sympathize with the “dokufu” because of the way they are presented to us.

I think there is some symbolism in the sea, the stars, and dreaming. I have read other stories where the sea has often represented suicide, or been a place where people go to die. I thought it was interesting when Takeo was on the military ship, fighting, and he says he feels "nothing" while fighting and subsequently becomes insensible when he is injured. Here, on the sea, it almost feels like he has become hopeless; regardless of winning or losing, Takeo does not feel. Similarly, when Nami goes to the ocean she looks out at it and thinks that her only way to be free is to let the water sweep her away to her death. Again, we see the sea as a sense of a final destination, where all hope has been lost.

The stars on the other hand connect the two- they are something that both Nami and Takeo can look at, and often do, wondering where the other is and if he or she is thinking of the other. Similarly, we see that Nami and Takeo are often dreaming in Book Three. These protagonists are dreaming of past happiness in their lives, only to suddenly and unexpectedly be awaken. It is almost as if the dreams they are having are supposed to give the audience hope, and then the rude awakening seems to draw us back down to reality.

I thought the interaction of this actual war going on and this internal and family "war" going on. On page 237, there is a line that states "...the relations between Toyo and the Widow Kawashima had reached a crisis more imminent than even the struggled between Japan and China." This again may be a comment on this change in structure and the repercussions that it has had. While some men are enjoying the changes that have come to them, we see that some members of the family are left behind in the more typical Japanese family setting. Not all members of society are reaping the benefits of this social change.

We see two lovers wanting to live and die together. If these two lovers, Takeo and Nami, cannot be together in this life, then death is all that they seem to want. Timing also plays another huge role in determining the outcome of the story. We see the instance where Takeo ultimately saves Nami's father's life, an instance that seems to ultimately heal their relationship in the long run. Kiyo Ogawa's suprise meeting with her father and then the untimely death of her mother in law, father, son, and husband all in a short period of time. And finally, when Nami and Takeo see each other on the train, but are going opposite ways, and only see each other for a brief moment.

Nami is constantly being denied, up until the very end when only death finally accepts her. She craves a release that she feels she can no longer find in life. We see that even death makes her struggle, as she doesn't suffer death from a quick sickness, but rather dies of a broken heart- long and drawn out.

Together, the many different aspects of melodrama seem to tie this story together, especially with the quick and tragic ending that we experience as readers.

Questions:
Does the repetition of symbols or experiences evoke more feeling from the audience? (reappearance of the man with the red mole, the rock at Fudo Shrine that Nami and Takeo had sat on)
How do you feel about Nami dying? Did you think she was going to live?
Why do you think this theme of wanting to live and die together is so prominent in melodramatic works?
Do you think that this story (mostly in Book Three), broke down more of the barriers of the family, and thus the ending was doomed from this?

Monday, September 22, 2014

Hototogisu-Namiko

Hototogisu-Namiko A Realistic Novel

           The story Hototogisu, also known as Namiko, by Kenjiro Tokutomi is about the life of a girl named Nami who comes from a noble background.    After Nami's mother passed away when she was eight years old, Nami was raised by her nurse, Iku, father General Kataoka, and eventually her stepmother who married in a year later.  Her stepmother grew up in England as a child  and became Europeanized; therefore, her Western beliefs changed the the lifestyle of the Kataoka's traditional Japanese household.  Unfortunately, Nami was mistreated by her stepmother who did not find her an agreeable child and was subject to misfortune.  This continued for ten years until she married Kawashima Takeo and moved into his house.  Takeo was a sailor who had great fortune and was part of the nobility.  Her newly married life was expected to be happy however, she also had the unfortune of having to deal with Takeo's widow mother, Nami's mother in law, Madame Kawashima.  Throughout the story, Madame Kawashima grows jealous of Takeo and Nami's close relationship making Nami's new life difficult.  Eventually Nami catches the disease hemorrhage and is sent to Zushi to recover.  Takeo's cousin, Chijiwa who had fallen in love with Nami but was rejected for marriage and humiliated by Takeo after a money incident takes this opportunity to get his revenge on the young couple.  Eventually by the end of Book II, Takeo's mother, brainwashed by Chijiwa and scared for the future of the Kawashima household, divorces the couple without either  individual's consent.  Takeo is called on duty and leaves for the West angry and sad while the poor Nami returns to her household and recovers with her nurse Iku.  The rest of the story is to be continued in Book III.
             This fictional story contains many aspects and characteristics of melodrama.  The first prominent aspect is "realism."  Brooks mentions in his reading "Melodramatic Intro," that "within an apparent context of 'realism' and the ordinary, [melodramas] seemed in fact to be staging a heightened and hyperbolic drama, making reference...to concepts of darkness and light, salvation and damnation.  Part of the title of this short story is included "A Realistic Novel."  Namiko is a realistic novel but within that realism contains concepts of light, the beautiful Namiko who wants to live a free life, and darkness with her constant misfortunes and vengeful characters such as Chijiwa.  In addition, there is realism within this story from Japan's feudalism and the nobility in exchange for military service having fortune and land.  Moreover, Japan has had a history of hemorrhagic fever during World War II and the tragedy of Nami catching this disease is a representation of many who had suffered realistically from it.  Within the story though is dramatization from Nami's hard life, the jealousy of Takeo's mother, to the the character Hyozo Yamaki's sneakiness.
              Another aspect of melodrama that I noticed in the story was gender, family, and class mobility.  Catherine Russell mentions and explains in her reading Inside/Outside, Melodrama that social structure plays a large role in melodramas.  This holds true for Namiko because she lives ina  time of feudalism, where social status was of importance; especially, when making connections among the military headquarters.  Chijiwa always says in Namiko how he is a commoner with low status and that to rise up the class mobility, he needs money, connections, and to be married to a woman of nobility such as Nami-san herself.  In Chapter 6 of Book II, Takeo's mother tries to convince Takeo to divorce Nami to prevent the spread of hemorrhage among the Kawashima family.  She is afraid of the end of the family line.  The important part of this conversation is her perspective of gender. She tells Takeo, "women are not equal to men," and that if Namiko, a woman, is not contributing to the family she is of no use and should be divorced.  The conflict of Nami's divorce and Chijiwa's revenge is all melodramatic and behind it all is social status. 
              Another melodramatic characteristic is "dokufu."  According to the Ito reading, there are women in melodramatic fiction that can be referred to as "dokufuku," evil vice women by nature.  Nami's stepmother, is a symbol of "dokufu" because she mistreats Nami and forces those around her to do the same or it will bring even more harm to Nami.  However, Nami's stepmother also contrasts from woman of melodrama.   She spent a lot of her childhood in Europe, and adopted the Western culture.  Moreover, she had lots of power over the household including General Kataoka who always claimed that Nami's stepmother knew better than him whenever there was a conflict. 
              I also noticed something interesting throughout this story as well as from other melodramatic stories such as Spring-Color Plum Calendar.  The melodramas often have flowers, and Namiko especially, had a lot of flowers.  I wondered if the flowers had any symbolic meanings or referred to something within the story.  I noticed that in Book II Ch. 9, there is mentioning of wild lilies, which after some research symbolize rebirth or transformation of emotions or traumas that are held in women's bodies that affect her health.  This is the chapter where Nami returns home no knowing of the divorce until after arrival.  The lilies could symbolize that her divorce is a big change in her life and it is true that there will be transformations of emotions and traumas since she is ill.  Another flower often found throughout this story are plum blossoms, which represent strength and endurance.  Throughout this story, Nami has endurance misfortune from her stepmother and Madam Kawashima.  She has also built up strength to withstand harsh treatment although it is a hardship.  In Book I Chapter 3, Nami and her husband Takeo go for a picnic and pick ferns.  Ferns symbolize hope, confidence, wealth, and happiness.  It is said that ferns are give to someone you care about and this is a good representation of Nami and Takeo's marriage at the moment and their love for each other.  In addition to that, the moment after Chijiwa talks to Nami after the picnic and attaches violets to his shirt, the flowers represent nobility, intuition, dignity, food fortune, and enhancement.  All of which is what Chijiwa strives to achieve and his pride.  Flowers may not be significant to melodrama but they seem to have a symbolic meaning throughout Namiko and the relationships and characteristics within the story.










Wednesday, September 17, 2014

"The Love Suicides at Amijima" and Double Suicide


“The Love Suicides at Amijima,” a puppet play, and Double Suicide, a film, is a tale of love, duty, and death. The story takes place in 1720 Osaka, Japan, where society is overwhelmingly dictated by the concept of “giri”: obligation to family and adherence to the rules and mores of society. Naturally, to fail in “giri” is to incur great shame and dishonor.  For Koharu and Jihei, their forbidden love causes them to fail in giri and the only solution they believe can fix their predicament and allow them to be together is suicide. In this way, the "love suicide" illustrates the tension between pure love and an impure world. 
 


To me, this story represents the timeless theme of the conflict between what one is expected to do and what one wants to do. This theme can resonate with children, teenagers, and adults. However, this story is very much centered on the concept of love, which constitutes one of a few universal characteristics of human natural regardless of ones culture. What struck me as progressive was that Chikamatsu illustrates that even the love of a prostitute is deep and has significance. 

While Catherine Russell would advocate that there is no human connection between West and East stories, I could not help but compare “The Love Suicides at Amijima” to Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet.” After doing some further reflecting though, I realized that aside from the passion of a pair of young lovers, each of whom would literally rather die than live without the other, the two stories have more differences than similarities. For one, Romeo and Juliet start out as pure beings, whereas Koharu is an impure prostitute and Jihei is a mundane store clerk. Most importantly, the deaths of Romeo and Juliet are based on a misunderstanding, while Koharu and Jihei deliberately make the decision to kill themselves.

According to Peter Brooks, a characteristic of melodrama is that “nothing is spared because nothing is left unsaid” (1995). It is easy to assume that this characteristic of melodrama is present in the story since the forbidden lovers die in the end, but I was not convinced that the story culminates with no questions left. Even though this taps into religion and philosophy, I could not help but wonder what happens to the lovers after they die? It is suggested that they will be able to finally be together without being shammed, but that is something the reader will truly never know. Additionally, the story does not trace what happens to Jihei’s family after his death.

Some additional critical questions I have relating to the story and film:
  • How are Confucianism and Buddhism at conflict with one another in this story?
  • Do you think Koharu’s duty to Osan can be labeled as feministic? 
  • How does body language in the film enhance the concept of melodrama? If Jihei and Koharu did not get on their knees to beg or uncontrollably cry/wail, if characters did not shake each other when arguing, if Jihei had not cut his hair, etc. would the film still have the same melodramatic effect standing on its own with plot? Or is this excess of body language trying to replicate how the puppets would have to be manipulated in the puppet play?
  • Do the intimate, sexual scenes in the film enhance or diminish the melodramatic component of the film?
  • Do the black figures (we can call them puppeteers) that follow the characters around in the film distract from the story or help add to its intensity? Do you think Jihei's suicide would have even happened if it wasn't for the puppeteers aiding him along?
  • Do you think the story is illustrating tension regarding social, physical, human, cultural, or financial capital? Or is it a combination of all of them? 
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was able to experience this story in the form of prose fiction as well as film, but I was curious to what extent propaganda for this story was "melodramatic." Even though melodrama is a descriptive term, it is not typically used when discussing still images. However, I believe it fits with the two pieces of propaganda below. Even though the first poster is more complex than the second poster, I find it interesting how both posters are in black and white with red accents. The red accents seem to add pressure to the posters, morphing them from a 2-dimensional image to a 3-dimensional image. While you may not be able to envision ethnical issues, gender differences, class inequalities, good vs. evil, spirituality/religion, gesture, etc., which are all aspects of melodrama, there seems to still be this inarticulate melodramatic feel. 






Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Spring-Color Plum Calendar

Tamenaga Shunsui's Spring-Color Plum Calendar, despite its age, fits comfortably within the definitions of melodrama we've studied so far. The long work features love triangles, money struggles, and the reunion of long-lost siblings, all in a highly emotional tone. The straight-forward writing never holds back from expressing the extreme feelings of the characters, even when they cannot: "Her silence was sadder than any words she could have said." This sort of narration makes Plum Calendar a colorfully self-aware work, even featuring direct insertions of the narrator's thoughts on both the characters and the real world.

Perhaps because it is so aware of the female reading audience it was being marketed to, Spring-Color Plum Calendar features an incredible cast of female characters particularly remarkable for its time. The four primary characters are all women with distinct personalities, motivations, and styles. They all, however, learn to live independently of men by acquiring skills to get jobs with which they can support not only themselves, but also their loved ones. In contrast, the main male character is a weak, teary man whose primary redeeming characteristic is his romantic appeal. It practically requires suspension of disbelief that two such vibrant and talented women as Ochou and Yonehachi both love Tanjirou. Oyoshi, the leader of her own gang, particularly stood out to me as a surprising female character. Unlike many women in melodrama, she is not trapped by forces beyond her control, but is actually a power of her own and works as the savior of Ochou from the cruelties of society. She admits to generally unseemly characteristics for women, such as egoism, and wields authority without being looked down on by the narrative, despite its usual need to finish scenes with a reminder of the typically ideal traits for women.

Characteristic of melodrama's tendency to ideological contradiction, despite these incredible female characters, Tamenaga's narration betrays any hopes of finding a semblance of feminism in Spring-Color Plum Calendar. He expresses affection and appreciation for women, but only for the delineated paragon of female virtue, which he sees as faithfulness to men. Although the story solves issues primarily through relationships between women, the melodrama and idealized emotional pain is generally centered on the difficulties of Ochou and Yonehachi's faithful love for Tanjirou. Despite praising them for their faithfulness, the narrative does not at all present Tanjirou's effectively two-timing them as a negative thing. Tamenaga pauses to defend his female characters from accusations of being immoral for sleeping with Tanjirou, but never needs to stop and mention the romantic hero's own morals (or lack thereof). The narration even expresses this double standard, mentioning that "His love for her is as true as hers for him" of Tanjirou's love for Ochou during a romantic scene right after revealing how he is also in a relationship with Yonehachi. It is hard to imagine anyone being so kind to Yonehachi had she actually been sleeping with Konoito's lover as Tanjirou is sleeping with both her and Ochou. And yet, the women's love for Tanjirou is posited as being equal to his for them. While Spring-Colored Plum Calendar may surprise a modern reader with its self-sufficient female characters, it does not break free from the moral standards of its time so completely as it may initially seem.