Manga Review: 『大奥』（Ōoku：The Inner Chambers), Vol. 2

Image from Amazon.co.jp

Read the review of Vol. 1 here.

Sad to leave Yoshimune and Mizuno of vol. 1 behind for the next story arc, I reluctantly started vol. 2 of Ôoku, but I quickly left my regrets behind as I got absorbed in the story. Readers, this manga is a tour de force. It’s not just the art or the writing– this volume put me through an emotional wringer in a way that only the endings of Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind and The Rose of Versailles have.

As Yoshimune reads the records of the ōoku, we travel back in time to the 1630s. The manga starts with an explanation: The first two Tokugawa shoguns, Ieyasu and Hidetada, were men. However, the third shogun, Iemitsu, fell victim to the Red Pox. Little by little, we piece together the (disturbing) story of how the female Tokugawa line started.

Spoilers, of course, follow.

One of the main themes of volume 1 was power, chiefly explored through the Machiavellian politics of the ōoku and the new shogun Yoshimune. The theme of the second volume, though, is the hurts and wounds we carry; this is explored through the theme of physical violence, largely rape.

The former priest Arikoto, the newest member of the harem. p. 129

The narrative technique of revealing the story through flashbacks is brilliant, but to summarize, the real Iemitsu (male) becomes shogun, but he is notorious for having male lovers and fails to produce an heir. One night, he and his retainers go out to make trouble in the town, and he rapes a woman, who gives birth to his daughter. Iemitsu contracts the Red Pox, which is spreading through Edo, and dies. His wet nurse Kasuga takes charge of the situation: in order to keep the shogunate in the Tokugawa (read: Iemitsu’s) line, she finds his daughter, now 15, has her mother and wet nurse murdered, and forces the new “Iemitsu” (Chie) to dress like a boy and pretend to be her father. Iemitsu tries to run away, is brutally raped and kills her rapist. She gives birth to a daughter, who dies. Kasuga tries to build up the ōoku so that Iemitsu can produce an heir. However, Iemitsu hates the three men in it, so Kasuga kidnaps some traveling monks in order to take the beautiful head of their temple, Madenokouji Arikoto, into the ōoku—no matter what she has to do to get him to stay.

The story arc answers a good deal of the questions Yoshimune asks in volume one. The reason why the first man to sleep with an unmarried shogun must die is because Iemitsu murdered her rapist, saying that a man who injures the body of the shogun must die (218). The reason why Japan became a closed country was to keep the Westerners from knowing that the shogun was a woman—which is also why the female shoguns have male names. The reason why the men of the ōoku are cruel and catty is because competition on the battlefields of love, sex and power makes people cruel and catty—whether it’s three men or three thousand.

What struck me about the story, though, was the wounds everyone carried and the vicious cycle of cruelty. The men of the ōoku are angry that Iemitsu seems to favor Arikoto, so they rape and torture his acolyte Gyokuei. Gyokuei murders Arikoto’s cat to frame one of his rapists and to hurt Iemitsu. Kasuga’s use of murder and extortion to achieve her means of installing the new Iemitsu and producing an heir leaves no one untouched, including her biological son, whom she coerces into helping her.

As for Iemitsu, her wounds manifest in multiple: She claims to hate cute things because her daughter died, and all cute things (like the kitten she gives Arikoto) remind her of the baby. She is rumored to have sent a member of the ōoku to his death for not pleasing her in bed.

Most notably, she is angered by her lack of real power and takes out her frustrations on the men of the ōoku. She enjoys playing humiliating power games with the men to show who is in charge. She refers to all the men by feminine names—Madenokouji Arikoto (万里小路・有功）becomes “Oman,” Gyokuei （玉栄) becomes “Otama,” because, as members of her harem, they are “like women” (85). She forces them to dress as women and dance to amuse her (205). She uses violence to this end as well—she beats Arikoto at their first meeting to show him his place.

Iemitsu knows her position of power is precarious, since the plague has not decimated the sex ratio as far as it has by Yoshimune’s reign: in the 1630s, the ratio is 2 women : 1 man. She wants to be revered as the shogun, but she is still very much an angry child at 18. Instead of working to win people’s respect by performing as a capable leader like Yoshimune does,* she takes out her anger on those who do not respect her by showing them they are merely her playthings.

"Who here thinks I'm actually the Shogun?!" p. 195

Tied to this is Iemitsu’s largest wound—her kidnapping. Had she not been kidnapped and forced to play the role of shogun, she could have continued her peaceful childhood and lived as a normal woman. Instead, her mother and nurse were murdered in front of her, and she was forced into a role she didn’t want—and, to top it off, she was raped as a result. She takes revenge on traveling girls by having their hair—their sign of femininity—cut off, just as hers was to become “Iemitsu.” She is the demon of the roads, and other girls living the life she wanted must suffer for injustices inflicted on her.

"The one person I had to save was right before my eyes." p.227

Arikoto, perhaps, has some of the deepest wounds of all, but Arikoto is not like the other characters. Kasuga snatched him away from his beloved profession as a priest who genuinely wanted to help people, and if that were not enough, she murdered his colleague and an innocent woman in order to get him to break his vow of chastity. Iemitsu beat him and verbally abused him. In order get their “revenge” on Arikoto, the other men hurt Gyokuei to the point of the boy snapping. Arikoto does feel regret, sadness, and guilt over these events. However, Arikoto appears to have more compassion than seems humanly possible. He sees how much Iemitsu hurts, and after spending a lot of time with her, he realizes something which is, perhaps, the best monologue in the volume:

Up until now I thought I was born to become a priest. I wanted to help the many people suffering in this world, and up until now, I believed I could help. So, when that became impossible, I despaired and went so far as to throw away my feelings as a human…. Why didn’t I notice it? There was someone I could save. The one person I had to save was always right before my eyes.　(pp. 226-7)

This particular scene really wrenched my heart. On one hand, I feel like Arikoto might be on a suicide mission to rehabilitate Iemitsu. Someone who wants to “fix” a partner often ends up disappointed, and I know as well as any that even a man with an abundance of compassion and love can grow weary of a person with too many scars on her heart and schemes in her head.

A light-hearted moment over Kasuga's plan to bring Iemitsu "seven flavors" of men. p. 175.

At the same time, Arikoto’s infinite compassion moved me. Arikoto is kind to everyone no matter what their position is, and, moreover, he’s clever. One of my other favorite scenes in the manga is the one in which Kasuga buys the three men of the temple prostitutes in order to get them to break their vows and join the ōoku. The prostitutes tell Arikoto that they were instructed not to leave until the men “play” with them. Arikoto responds that he’ll play—and plays an older version of janken (rock-paper-scissors) and some other parlor games with them and lets them drink the nice sake provided. Everyone from a courtesan to the Shogun herself is worthy of his company and consideration.

As for his relationship with Iemitsu, the final scene of him coming to her “party” in the women’s wear provided and embracing her reminded me strongly of the scene in Princess Mononoke when Ashitaka embraces San after she stabs him. Could this realization both men have–that everyone deserves love and compassion–be enlightenment?

Arikoto "playing with" the prostitutes. p. 54

I think I may have developed a literary crush on Arikoto in reading this.  I mean, what’s not to like about an attractive man who is learned, strong, gentle, caring, compassionate, and clever AND comes with a cute smile and adorable Kyoto accent? I don’t know about Iemitsu, but he’s won me over.

なんと可愛らしい私だけの上様

『大奥』第2巻 (Ōoku, Vol. 2)

By YOSHINAGA Fumi (よしなが　ふみ）

Published 2006/11/29 by JETS COMICS (subsidiary of 白泉社).

This review refers to the original Japanese version, available at Amazon.co.jp. Translations are mine, not from the official English version.

Notes

*Though Yoshimune is perfectly capable of firing people who mouth off to her, she is not violent with her subordinates.

Part 1: The Sexual Revolution Within the Ôoku

There’s a line in Volume 1 that really defines the larger work of Ôoku, where a character notes that the men there kept like goldfish: a luxury item to have simply for the sake of having. For the third and (part of) the fourth volumes of Ôoku, I’d like to shift the focus from the narrative itself to the larger cultural issues presented in the volume. No work of art or literature exists in a vacuum, and the third and fourth volumes of Ôoku address the present issue of “herbivore men” and their counterpart, “carnivore women.” Unlike Otomen, though, the story of Ôoku is not directly about this issue, but there’s no denying the connection between contemporary culture and the work. The content of this volume is largely meant to explain the changes in Japanese (alternate history) culture caused by the Red Pox, or how the culture in the world that Yoshinaga created evolved from the Shogunate of Iemitsu to that of Yoshimune.

I’d like to address this in multiple parts—first the sexual revolution within the ôoku; next, the changing political and social world; and finally the lasting cultural impact that the revolutions within and without the castle have on the world. The issues addressed here are fairly lengthy, so I’ve divided up Part 1 into subsections. Spoilers are a given; also, one image contains some potentially NSFW cleavage.

Merely a Plaything

The plot of this volume focuses on the building of the ôoku. Although Iemitsu and Arikoto are very happy together, Arikoto is infertile, and Kasuga is bent on Iemitsu producing an heir. Against both their wishes, the lovers are parted, and new additions come to the ôoku. Iemitsu produces an heir with her new concubine, but she and Arikoto secretly continue their affair. In what I found to be a sweet moment, Iemitsu promises Arikoto that no matter whose child she bears, she is his and his alone—however, the rift between them grows.

One of the aspects of the manga that I really like is the scenes of the lives of the commoners. While the manga focuses on the Shogunate and the daily life of those in Edo Castle, the cuts to life outside the castle—the famine, the pox, the farmers and merchants—are crucial to the world-building, as the castle and harem are very insular.

Sutezou's father reprimands him (3-37).

Sutezou  is introduced to us as the youngest son of a tailor who specializes in making collars for kimono. Instead of helping his parents mind the shop, he prefers to go out on the town with his lover. Instead of attributing this behavior to laziness or personality, though, his father reprimands him for acting frivolously—and femininely. The same thing happens earlier in the manga with another character’s son, and it certainly echoes the “kids these days” attitude of society toward herbivore men.

Sutezou is approached by Kasuga to join the ôoku because of his striking physical resemblance to Arikoto. Personality-wise, Arikoto is more intellectual and stoic, and is, to use a college-admissions phrase, well rounded in his interests in arts and culture, his physical ability, and his intellectual capability. Sutezou, on the other hand, speaks thick, casual Edo-ben, has an eye for fashion, and loves sweets.* Edo-ben aside, the latter two aspects are associated with femininity (and herbivore men) in Japanese culture.

The female name (see Volume 2) Iemitsu gives Sutezou, Oraku (お楽), really reflects his personality, as he comes off as not very deep or serious; the name also reflects Iemitsu’s feelings about him. To her, Oraku is her plaything, a bit on the side, not worthy of the love and respect she gives Arikoto.

Vol. 3, p. 104

Yoshinaga goes on to show that Oraku is not a special case. She explains that a trend of favoring and pampering sons, sheltering them and treating them as the treasures of the family, has started (vol. 4). Oraku is sort of a forerunner of this—while not pampered by his parents, he longs for a life of leisure that he could attain by becoming a husband, or, in his case, a concubine.

My Body, My Choice

As for Iemitsu’s role in the sexual revolution, the Shogun has some amazingly culturally relevant moments in this volume, and Yoshinaga really speaks to contemporary women’s issues through Iemitsu.

In the last decade, Japan’s issues with women’s bodies have focused on the Pill and the birth dearth. Japan did not legalize the birth control pill until 1999, which has been available in the US since 1960. Meanwhile, the way the birth dearth—that is, Japan’s low fertility rate of 1.4 children per woman at the time the manga was published—has been repeatedly blamed on women.** We are too selfish, prioritizing our careers over finding a husband and bearing children, say the media and government officials, all the while ignoring the research that says that women want to have 2-3 children but the lack of adequate governmental and societal support for working parents (parental leave, better working hours, childcare) to make this a reality. There is certainly no dearth of literature on this, and I’ve put a brief bibliography at the end of some sources.

Vol 3. p. 67

Iemitsu finds herself in a similar situation. Arikoto appears to be infertile, though Iemitsu suggests that she may be the one “at fault” for their lack of heirs (vol. 3, p. 70), citing the difficulty of the birth of her daughter who died shortly afterward. Kasuga, the wet-nurse of Iemitsu’s father (also Iemitsu), and the person who is actually in charge of the Shogunate, tries to get rid of Arikoto, and in an effort to save his relationship with Iemitsu, he suggests that she sleep with other men in order to produce an heir. Iemitsu is horrified by the thought, and beats Arikoto, yelling, “I’ll be the only one to choose if other men are to have me!” (vol. 3, p. 67).

This situation reminded me of one of the other examples that came up a lot in the mid ’00s: Crown Princess Masako’s “failure” to produce a male heir. (Tim Larimer’s 2004 “Japan’s Latest Craze” does a great job summarizing the issues.) Masako, an educated career woman, was 31 when she married Crown Prince Naruhito. Perhaps if she had married a “normal” man, not having any children or just having one child would have been a perfectly acceptable life choice, but there was intense pressure on her—and other women who marry into powerful traditional families—to conform and produce a male heir. Even before the birth of her nephew, who will be in line for the throne before her daughter, Masako withdrew herself from the public eye due to emotional issues.

A tender moment. Vol. 3, p. 18.

While I can’t speak for Masako’s personal feelings about her “duty to the state,” Iemitsu, however, isn’t interested as using her body as a tool of the Shogunate at first. Though she isn’t opposed to having a child, she doesn’t want to abandon Arikoto, the only one of the harem she favors, to do so, and the thought of sleeping with a “normal” man completely repulses her.

Arikoto is precisely what all the men she knows are not—even if he is not her equal in station, he values her highly, treats her like an equal human being, and is kind, loving, gentle, and attentive, a sort of  Edo-period “predecessor” of Masamune Asuka from Otomen. The glimpses of their love scenes are very tender and come off as gender neutral—no talk of women or men, or of gendered power and position, just two people in love.

"Arrogant bastard!"

Sadly, though, the burden of childbearing is not equal in heterogamous relationships, and Iemitsu eventually decides to sleep with Oraku in hopes of producing an heir—and so she can go back to being with Arikoto. Although this is due to pressure from Kasuga, Iemitsu decides that she’s going to conduct this affair on her own terms. Arikoto tries to warns Oraku that Iemitsu is easily angered and it’d be better if he didn’t talk to her, but Oraku tries to woo the Shogun with what comes off as a cheesy pick up line. Iemitsu is not amused and violently knocks Oraku to the ground. As she disrobes, she says, “You aren’t going to take me. I’m going to take you.”***

I think that Yoshinaga has really effectively illustrated some of the complicated issues modern women in heterogamous relationships have. We have more reliable means to control when and how many children (if any) we have than ever, but this area is, sadly, one that cannot be argued to be equal due to the nature of human biological processes. Even if the woman in the relationship is in a more powerful societal position, or even if the male partner becomes the primary caregiver, the physical aspect of childbearing is still her burden. (Barring adoption, of course, but that is not seen as an option for Iemitsu or the imperial family.) Women are blamed for the birth dearth, but I fail to see how the state has a right to tell women (or men) what they are and aren’t allowed to do with their bodies. Yoshinaga has a talent for illustrating social issues in a verbally concise and elegant way within stories that are not specifically about these issues.****

Oraku and Iemitsu’s conduct and relationship serve to show the sexual aspect of the cultural revolution that is happening with Edo Castle. Iemitsu’s assertiveness in her sexual relationships and her position of power in her romantic ones reflects the cultural rise of the “carnivore woman.”

In the next sections, I will discuss the changes in the political world that provide the women other than Iemitsu with cultural agency, and then discuss the cultural changes in the world outside the castle.

おいらの名前は今日からお楽ってんですよ。

「大奥」第3巻、第4券 (Ōoku, Vol. 3 & 4)

By YOSHINAGA Fumi (よしなが　ふみ）

Published 2007/12/20 (Vol. 3) and 2008/12/24 (Vol. 4) by JETS COMICS (subsidiary of 白泉社).

This review refers to the original Japanese version, available at Amazon.co.jp.

The English translation of Vol. 3 was published on 20 April 2010 by Viz Media and is available at amazon.com. Vol. 4 was published on 17 August 2010. The translator is Akemi Wegmüller.

Notes

*As the son of a tailor, this is hardly surprising, but the other men of the ôoku find it a bit odd.

**For current (est. 2011) comparative statistics, see the World Factbook on the CIA website. In contrast to Japan’s 1.2, one of the lowest on the list, the US average is 2.06; the UK is 1.91; Australia is 1.71; Canada is 1.58; and China is 1.54. (Korea, Italy, and Germany’s rates are closer to the Japanese rate and have been discussing this issue as well.)

***This is a fairly liberal translation, and it’s hard to render the Japanese into English. She literally says “You will not embrace me. I will embrace you” (「お前が私を抱くのではない。わしはお前を抱くのだ。」) in Japanese, but I feel like take is a better rendering for ease of understanding here.

**** See Kinou Nani wo Tabeta? (「昨日何を食べた?」, What Did You Eat Yesterday?), a contemporary piece about a lawyer who loves cooking and his hairdresser boyfriend. The manga is mainly about food and relationships but tactfully addresses a number of social issues concerning the characters’ sexuality.

More Ôoku

Volume 1

Volume 2

Bibliography

Allison, Anne. (1996). Permitted and Prohibited Desires: Mothers, Comics, and Censorship in Japan. Boulder, CO: Westview Press.

Miyazaki, Tetsuya, et al. (2006). “What Can We Do About the Baby Bust?”  Japan Echo 33.1: 14-19

—. (1996). “Antiphonal Performances? Japanese Women’s Magazines and Women’s Voices.” Skov, Lisa, and Moeran, Brian, ed.  Women, Media, and Consumption in Japan. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press:143-169

Uno, Kathleen S. (1991). “Women and Changes in the Household Division of Labor.” Bernstein, Gail Lee, ed. Recreating Japanese Women, 1600-1945. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press: 17-41.

White, Merry I.  (2002). Perfectly Japanese: Making Families in an Era of Upheaval. Berkeley: University of California Press.

Yamada, Masahiro. (2006). “The Real Story Behind Japan’s Marriage Crisis.” Japan Echo 33.1: 20-24.

Also, see this interview with Judith Butler, particularly her comments on biology and pregnancy.

Part 3: The New Culture

Image from Amazon.co.jp

In the final installment of my look at the cultural revolution during Iemitsu’s reign in Yoshinaga Fumi’s manga 『大奥』 (Ôoku), I’d like to explore the political and cultural changes to the (female) Iemitsu’s Edo through the connection between fashion and political power.

The Woman Shogun
A person’s status is often reflected, whether by custom or by law, in one’s dress. For example, in some European cultures, binding up one’s hair or wearing long skirts was a sign of adulthood; covering one’s hair with a bonnet after marriage was another fashion norm. There were also consumption laws regarding whom could wear what colors or fabrics in a number of cultures. In Japan, unmarried young women wear the furisode, the brightly-patterned long-sleeved kimono, when dressing in Japanese-style formal wear, whereas older and married women opt for more muted tones and shorter sleeves or the black kimono with the family crest.

Today, class and status might be signified by the wearing of rings to signify the status of being engaged or married; a designer purse with the brand’s logo or shoes with a distinctive red sole might indicate class (namely, the possession of disposable income).

The social acceptability of fashions are another measure of a culture’s changes: think of the bobbed hair and loosened clothes of the 1920s and women’s physical mobility or the increasing normalization of pantsuits as practical office-wear for women in the last 50 years. Likewise, Yoshinaga shows in vols. 3 and 4 how the changes in Iemitsu’s appearance, as well as that of the women of Edo, reflect the changing culture.

At the beginning of vol. 3, Iemitsu still wears men’s clothes, keeps her hair in a top knot, and wears no makeup when she is dealing with matters of the state (3: 148-149).

Iemitsu and her advisors in a meeting. Vol. 3, p. 149

However, the rest of the time, she wears a hair piece to make her ponytail longer and more in fashion with women’s hairstyles of the time; she also uses makeup, particularly lipstick; and wears women’s kimono. This reflects the odd position of Edo’s women—while more of them are taking on positions of power within their families and professions due to the diminishing number of men, there is still a gap in the reality of women’s power and the cultural way of thinking about women, as women in political power cross-dress to hide the fact they are women (3:206).

"Shouldn't you think that it's our job to look after this country?" Vol. 3, p. 206.

However, fashions in the town are changing with the times. Iemitsu goes into Edo one day (dressed as a woman), and notices the women shopping there are wearing their hair up and dressed with combs (3:140).

Iemitsu and Denemon out on the town. Vol. 3, p 140.

When she points this out to Denemon, her escort, he notes that it’s easier to move around with one’s hair done up; Iemitsu decides to try out this fashion for herself. If it were not necessary for women to be able to move around more, the updo hairstyle may not have taken hold, but since the women of Edo, both laborers and merchants alike, are much more active for work, a hairstyle that allows for easy movement has become fashionable. When Iemitsu decides to allow women to inherit the title of daimyô and comes out as a woman herself, she wears her hair in this new fashion with one of her new combs.

Vol. 4, pp. 10-11.

In front of the assembly, she explains the circumstances surrounding her initiallly acting as a regent for a future male heir. However, she declares that, as the first Iemitsu’s daughter, she was born to rule as Shogun. If the lack of men means the end of society, then she’ll go down with the ship, and she dares anyone to challenge the “Woman Shogun” (4:10). “Not one person raised his or her voice,” writes Yoshinaga (4:11).

A Gilded Cage
The changes in fashion and society, of course, do not affect just the women. The changes Arikoto makes to the ôoku also reflect the changes to men’s lifestyle via fashion, and the reopening of the famous brothel of Yoshiwara reflects the change in the position of the men of Edo.

In volume 2, Kasuga forced scholarly Arikoto into rigorous physical training—sword-fighting and archery—so he and the men of the ôoku could protect the Shogun. However, much to Kasuga’s distaste, Arikoto, who is the de facto head of the ôoku, organizes a chrysanthemum-viewing evening for the men. Kasuga catches the men all dressed up and setting up lanterns, and walks in on Arikoto dressing Gyokuei (“Otama”) in a beautifully embroidered kamishimo. (Gyokei, meanwhile, is wondering if his clothing is nice enough to “beat” Oraku, and Arikoto tells him that anything more elaborate than what he has on would look tacky.) (3:171-2)

The night of the 菊美. Vol. 3, p. 171.

When Kasuga asks what on earth the men who are supposed to protect the Shogun are doing, Arikoto responds that all they do everyday is sword-fighting and archery. “What’s wrong with the men who have to spend their whole lives in the ôoku having one single night of fun to enjoy the chrysanthemums?” he asks (3:174).

Yoshinaga comments on the following page that Arikoto’s appreciation for fine things was what eventually led the ôoku to become the frivolity that the eighth Shogun, Yoshimune, finds when she becomes the Shogun (3:175). As I stated in my posts on the film and first volume, any group of people, women or men, kept in luxurious isolation with the sole purpose of competing for romantic partners, are likely doomed to a life of frivolity in attempting to outdo each other and also amuse themselves. We’ve seen evidence of this cattiness in volume 2 through the cruelties the men of the ôoku inflict on Arikoto and Gyokuei, but the answer to the question of the ôoku’s luxury and fashion ultimately lie in Arikoto’s attempt to show the men a good time.

The remains of Yoshiwara. Vol. 3, p. 145.

The ôoku is one gilded cage, and the brothel of Yoshiwara reflects the change in men’s role outside the castle. On Iemitsu’s trip to Edo, the comb-seller also tries to pimp out her own son for the price of 8 ryo to “the princess” (3:142-3). Iemitsu is disgusted, but intrigued that the shopkeeper and her son seem to be doing this on a regular basis. As she discusses this with Denemon, they pass by Yoshiwara, where Kasuga bought the courtesans who came to “play” with Arikoto and his monks in volume 2. Yoshiwara is much changed, with female pimps selling old, sick, and mentally ill women. With the male population decimated and status of women raised, there’s no demand for female sex workers and barely any women who would be sold into a brothel for financial reasons. (Additionally, with a mostly female population, women who prefer women would probably be able to engage in relations more freely, further contributing to a lack of demand for Yoshiwara’s services.)

The new Yoshiwara. Vol. 4, pp. 14-15.

However, men are in higher demand as “studs” (種馬, literally seed-horse) as well as for sex for pleasure. As we see in later volumes of the manga, the comb-seller is not the only one selling her son for sex. With this in mind, Iemitsu arranges for 100 men to taken to Yoshiwara and held there to work as prostitutes in order to meet the sexual demand for men (4:13-5).

While it’s fun to think about how the world would be if historically patriarchal societies were matriarchal, Yoshinaga’s world-building actually reveals how the interaction between society and gender works. In Ôoku, the Red Pox causes significant changes in the sex ratio and population, which lead to changes in the culture. More importantly, Yoshinaga shows how the changes in gender roles come from the bottom up–families coddling the “treasure” of the family but also selling them, often against their will—as well as from the top down—Iemitsu’s installation of herself as a female shogun, her legally allowing women to receive hereditary titles, and reopening the Yoshiwara brothel with male prostitutes.

Working women. Vol. 4, p. 19.

While there is some leniency in gender roles at any point in history, it’s often hard to see how roles change within the course of a few decades or a hundred years. I’d like to point out the existence of books from the 1980s about how to deal with a “woman boss” as evidence of this. In 2011, very few people would find having a female boss strange in and of itself, but at the time these books were written, it was obviously a issue that merited advice books.

Furthermore, changes in gender roles are not always an ideal or equal course of progress. In Yoshinaga’s Edo period, women are liberated, but many of the men become chattel. Before anyone assumes that the liberation of women leads to the repression of men, I would like to note the current dialogues about masculinity in modern US and Japanese society as evidence to the contrary. The idea that the popular form of masculinity of the 1980s (and 1950s) is outdated and represses men is slowly gaining some ground win both countries. However, the herbivore men of Japan are considered a cultural phenomenon, not a social movement, whereas The Achilles Effect and The Good Men Project are internet-based movements that problematize masculinity in its present form.

Ôoku is hardly a misandrist revenge fantasy: Yoshinaga’s whole point is that gendered role reversal is not equality. In showing the reader (and Yoshimune) how the world of Ôoku, Vol. 1, came to be, Yoshinaga explores a lot of the same issues regarding social and political inequality both sexes deal with today, from fashion and sexual agency to representation in political and legal rights. Yet, it’s how she shows the social changes that occur within Iemitsu’s lifetime that interests me: how and to what extent traditions change; and how biology doesn’t determine gender but does regulate people in terms of producing offspring and heirs. Social change is a process, and while the events that happen in Ôoku are ultimately alternative history, I feel that the manga’s critical examination of the multitude of factors that led to social change over time is a crucial factor in understanding our own gendered world, past and present.

「わしはこの徳川の世を存続させるために生まれて来た将軍という名の人柱である！」

「大奥」第3巻、第4券 (Ōoku, Vol. 3 & 4)

By YOSHINAGA Fumi (よしなが　ふみ）

Published 2007/12/20 (Vol. 3) and 2008/12/24 (Vol. 4) by JETS COMICS (subsidiary of 白泉社).

This review refers to the original Japanese versions, available at Amazon.co.jp (Vol 3) (Vol. 4).

The English translation of Vol. 3 was published on 20 April 2010 by Viz Media and is available at amazon.com. Vol. 4 was published on 17 August 2010. The translator is Akemi Wegmüller.

More on Ôoku

The film

Vol. 1

Vol. 2

Vol. 3 & 4, Part 1

Vol. 3&4, Part 2

Image from news.livedoor.com

Followers of this blog know both how much I love Yoshinaga Fumi’s Ôoku (男女逆転大奥)–both the 2010 film version of vol. 1 (Yoshimune-Mizuno) and especially the Iemitsu-Arikoto story arc in vols. 2-4. One of my Yoshinaga-fan friends and I have often talked about how great it would be if there were movies or a TV show of the other story arcs in the manga, particularly the Iemitsu arc, and now our wish has been granted. The Arikoto-Iemitsu storyline (vol. 2-4) will be made into a serial drama to be aired on TBS starting in October 2012, and the Emonosuke-Tsunayoshi arc (vol. 4-6) will be made into a film, which will open in theaters nationwide on Dec. 22, 2012, after the airing of the drama finishes.

There are some spoilers below, so be warned.

Image from news.livedoor.com

The Cast (so far)

Sakai Masato (堺雅人) as both Arikoto and Emonosuke

Tabe Mikako (多部未華子) as Iemitsu

Kanno Miho (菅野美穂) as Tsunayoshi

Thoughts on the Cast

Why is one actor playing both the male leads in both stories? In the manga, Arikoto, Iemitsu’s favorite concubine and the eventual head of the ôoku, and Emonosuke, who becomes the head of Tsunayoshi’s ôoku due to his age, are very different men in personality but are said to look eerily alike. (One of my friends and I have a running joke that all men from Kyoto look the same in the series, so it’s not really surprising, though I can’t figure out exactly why Yoshinaga decided to make their similar appearance a plot point.)

On one hand, it makes sense to have one actor play them both to preserve this sense of doppelganger. On the other, Arikoto is supposed to be 18 at the beginning of his story arc and about 30 at the end of his main arc (he shows up in other volumes as an old man); Emonosuke is probably 35-40 when he first appears. The actor is 38. Hmm.

I find myself wondering how certain scenes will be handled. For example, several of the major plot points revolve around Iemitsu’s and Arikoto’s androgynous appearances. Iemitsu cross-dresses and passes for the first half of the arc before she comes out as a woman and begins to wear more feminine attire and makeup. Arikoto also has a key scene in which he appears very convincingly in drag at the end of vol. 2. I think that Tabe might have the right look for Iemitsu’s androgyny, and I think costuming should be able to handle this. For instance, I have to hand it to the producers of the drama IS, about an androgynous-looking intersex kid named Haru, for making the actress who played Haru look masculine or feminine based purely on clothing choices while the actress Fukuda Saki is normally fairly feminine in appearance.

Image from news.livedoor.com

I was also surprised to see that Kanno Mika was cast as Tsunayoshi rather than Iemitsu. Kanno played the lead role of Matsukata Hiroko in Hatarakiman (働きマン) in 2007. I haven’t read the manga, but I adored her performance as Matsukata, a magazine editor and career woman in her late 20s and her refreshingly honest and feminist outlook on her career, life, and love. (My hero!) I think she will do a great job playing the (secretly) complex Tsunayoshi, the fifth Shogun; at the same time, I was really hoping she’d play Iemitsu. Iemitsu, at least in her 20s, is sort of like Matsukata in that they are both devoted to their jobs, are logical and practical (though not without a stubborn and selfish streak), and even have the same creative-but-practical fashion sense. Still it’ll be fun to see her decked out in fancy kimono and kanzashi ruining all of her retainers’ lives, though–definitely a change of pace from how I think of her as an actress and a chance for her to grow as a performer. (I am not familiar with a lot of her work, so perhaps she has played a similar character before?)

Thoughts on the Story

I saw the first Ôoku movie before I read the manga, and I was surprised how close it was to the original, with the exception of the Tsurugaoka plotline’s resolution and the appearance of Sugishita (prettier in the manga) and Fujinami (prettier in the movie). I have confidence in director Kaneko Fuminori’s ability to translate my beloved manga to the screen again, but I’d be lying if I said I weren’t nervous about the Iemitsu-Arikoto love story. Kaneko did an amazing job with Yoshimune and Mizuno’s chemistry and interactions. However, Iemitsu and Arikoto have an even more delicate and complex relationship, and I find myself praying that the actors and directors do it justice on the big screen so I can finally show my friends who aren’t reading the manga what an amazing story and beautiful, tragic relationship Yoshinaga has created.

More updates to follow! Only 8 more months till the drama airs!

Read More (as of 1/31/2012)

Cinema Today

Cinema Cafe

Finally! I’ve been waiting and waiting for some teaser photos from the new Ôoku TV series (Ôoku Tanjô, Oct. 2012) and film (Ôoku Eien, Dec. 2012), and here they are!

TBS Drama. Ôoku: Tanjô (Arikoto/Iemitsu) (『大奥：誕生』[［有功・家光篇]). Release date: Oct. 2012.

“The Shogun is a woman; her retainers are 3000 beautiful men….” Photo from TBS: http://ohoku.jp/eien/index.html

Oh.

Let me talk about effective uses of visual media for marketing to potential viewers and to rabid fans. When you release the first promotional photos into the wild, you want your audience to have an immediate all-caps reaction Tumblr-style:

WHAT IS THAT I MUST SEE IT NOW
ALL THE FEELS
CAN’T BREATHE

John Barrowman after David Tennant kissed him at ComicCon

Instead, TBS presents non-emoting Tabe Mikako (多部未華子) and non-emoting Escher-girl-necked Sakai Masato (堺雅人). (Plus, they cut off the iconic design on his kataginu!) This doesn’t look like a drama featuring the best love story and treatise on gender in society since The Rose of Versailles (BeruBara), this looks like Yet Another Boring Period Drama Set in the Ôoku.

Let’s compare this promo to the ones from the first Ôoku (Mizuno/Yoshimune) movie.* Here we have the poster and DVD cover:

Image from amazon.co.jp

Even if they are still basically the main cast lined up, we get a much better sense of the characters. Yoshimune looks every bit a confident shogun; Mizuno looks tough but a bit apprehensive. Those two engage our vision and look straight at the viewer; they are the same size, but Yoshimune is placed higher to illustrate her power; Mizuno occupies the foreground to illustrate his role as protagonist. All the supporting characters, not just the women, are turned and looking in other directions, and we can see in just one photo a look into their personalities.

Along with posters, you need photos to provide a reason to go see the show/film. For the first Ôoku, this was one of the images that was featured in movie magazines like Cinekon and, to me, one of the most iconic visuals of the film.

シネコン. August 2010. pp. 26-7.

As I flipped through the movie guide that came with my ticket to Inception, I screeched to a halt on this page.  A heavenly choir sang out,「こちらが将軍」(“woman shogun”)! Every fiber of my gender-bending fangirl heart sang out “This is a movie just for you, dear! Because the universe loves you and wants you to be happy!”

I’m just not feeling it with this promotion for the TV series. It’s like TBS is saying “Oh, hey, Ôoku fans. Here’s a show you’re going to watch because you love the first movie and manga.” Impress me, TBS! I know you can do more dynamic work, like NHK did with Haken no Oscar. Just because you have an existing fan-base doesn’t mean you don’t get to put in effort!

Haken no Oscar. Image from amazon.co.jp

This lackluster promo is all the more infuriating because Yoshinaga Fumi draws such exquisite facial expressions. Just look at the covers of vols. 2 and 3:

Image from Amazon.co.jp

Image from amazon.co.jp

Look at those covers, especially back-to-back. The concept is simple, but it showcases very complex facial expressions–apprehension, doubt, pity, longing. Why not have them looking at each other or back to back or trying harder with establishing a connection between the two?

Hopefully there will be better pictures coming.

Film. Ôoku: Eien (Emonosuke/Tsunayoshi) (『大奥：永遠』[［右衛門佐･綱吉篇]). Release date: Dec. 22, 2012.

Image from http://ohoku.jp/eien/index.html

Luckily, where the TV promo falls flat, the promotional image for the film is excellent. Both Sakai and Kanno Miho are engaging the camera, and his serious look is much more suited to Emonosuke, whom I would describe as Arikoto’s doppelganger with chronic bitchface. I think Kanno, who was amazing as Matsukata in Hatarakiman, is going to be a perfect Tsunayoshi. I love the combination of playfulness and uncertainty in her expression here. The Pekinese is an excellent touch, given the plot line about Tsunayoshi’s policies protecting dogs.

On the bright side, director Kaneko Fuminori will be reprising his role as director of both the film and the drama, which gives me have faith in his bringing Yoshinaga’s vision to the screen. Also, Matsumura Takatsugu will be composing the music for the film, which means another spectacular score. I can’t wait. Here’s to hoping for something worthy of a Barrowman-style reaction!

UPDATE: Trailer for the film here!

Cast Lists

Ôoku: Tanjô (Arikoto/Iemitsu)
MADENOKOJI Arikoto (万里小路有功) – SAKAI Masato (堺雅人)
TOKUGAWA Iemitsu/Chie (徳川家光 / 千恵) – TABE Mikako 多部未華子
GYOKUEI (玉栄) – TANAKA Kôki (田中聖)（member of KAT-TUN）
INABA Masakatsu (稲葉正勝) – HIRAYAMA Hiroyuki (平山浩行)
YUKI (雪) – MINAMISAWA Nao (南沢奈央)
MURASE Masuke (村瀬正資) – OMI Toshinori (尾美としのり)
Myôkei (明慧) – Suruga Tarô (駿河太郎)
MATSUDAIRA Tsubutsuna (平信綱) – TANDA Yasunori (段田安則)
SAWAMURA Denemon (澤村伝右衛門) – NAITÔ Takashi (内藤剛志)
KASUGA Tsubone (春日局) – ASÔ Yumi (麻生祐未)

Ôoku: Eien (Emonosuke/Tsunayoshi)
Emonosuke (右衛門佐) – SAKAI Masato (堺雅人)
TOKUGAWA Tsunayoshi/Tokuko (徳川綱吉 / 徳子) – KANNO Miho (菅野美穂)
YANAGISAWA Yoshiyasu (沢吉保) – ONO Michiko (尾野真千子)
AKIMOTO Sôjiro (秋本惣次郎) – EMOTO Tasuku (柄本佑)
Young Gyokuei (玉栄)- TANAKA Kôki (田中聖)（member of KAT-TUN）
KOTANI Denben (小谷伝兵衛) – KANAME Jun (要潤)
Ôtsuke (大典侍) – KIRIYAMA Ren (桐山漣)
Shinnaishi (新典侍) – RYUSEI Ryo (竜星涼)
Sanosuke (佐之助) – MITSUSHIMA Shinnosuke (満島真之介)
NAKAMURA (中村) – KAKU Tomohiro (郭智博)
SAITÔ (斉藤) – NAGAE Yûki (永江祐貴)
ASANUMA (浅沼) – MIURA Takahiro (三浦貴大)
MAKINO Narisada (牧野成貞) – ICHIGE Yoshie (市毛良枝)
ÔTO Aguri (阿久里) – ENOKI Takaaki (榎木孝明)
MINASEGAWA (水無瀬権中納言氏信) – YUKI Saori (由紀さおり)
Ryûkô (隆光) – SAKAI Masa-aki (堺正章)
TAKATSUKASA Nobuko (鷹司信平) – Kûdo Kankurô (宮藤官九郎)
Keishôin (桂昌院) – NISHIDA Toshiyuki (西田敏行)

Notes

*Why are all the male characters getting top billing on the arc titles? Mizuno x Yoshimune, Arikoto x Iemitsu, Emonosuke x Tsunayoshi. I guess for movie 1, we start out with Mizuno as the protagonist and see most of the film from his POV. But Iemitsu and Arikoto are more evenly divided, and Tsunayoshi is in the plot way longer than Emonosuke. If we’re going from a purely fanfic reading of the order of the pairing where you have top/bottom, I assure you that Yoshimune and Iemitsu belong in the front.

More articles on Ôoku.

A run-down and thoughts on the drama Ôoku: Tanjô, episode 2 (aired 19 Oct. 2012 at 22:00 on TBS). Spoilers and trigger warning for rape and abuse.
Episode 1 recap here. Manga review here.

Plot: Vol. 2, Ch. 3-4
Arikoto (Sakai) and Gyokuei (Tanaka) settle into life in the ôoku. The other three men in the upper levels, who get to see the shogun and from whom she chooses lovers, are introduced and take an immediate dislike to Arikoto and Gyokuei. Iemitsu (Tabe) gives Arikoto a kitten, whom he names Wakamurasaki (Genji nerd!). Arikoto is bullied by the other men and finds a dead rat in his dinner, and after Gyokuei goes to the kitchen to complain, he is ambushed and tortured. He does not tell Arikoto about this but swears vengeance. Arikoto begins martial arts training–the man who killed Myôkei and the prostitute is his sword master. Even though Arikoto has never held a sword before, he forces himself to complete the near-impossible challenge of 1000 strikes before collapsing.

Compared to the manga
First of all, hats off to Sakai for the sword-practice scene. Shooting that must have been horrible even if he didn’t have to do the exercise 1000 times. Using the scene for flashbacks/reflections was a good choice.

The drama does a little more world-building to fill in the extra time. We get to see Gyokuei travel to his quarters on the second floor. Arikoto has a dream about being out in a field with Myôkei and Gyokuei, all dressed in their traveling clothes as they were when they arrived. We also get in this scene more of an idea of Arikoto’s struggle to cope with the loss of Myôkei as well as his guilt over leaving the temple, even though it was by force.

On with the binder

Music
Much improved incidental music, though I really dislike that all Japanese dramas need to play the pop theme song over the last 3 minutes of the show. I am still traumatized from Last Friends/”Prisoner of Love,” thank you very much.

Best Performance
Tabe as Iemitsu is incredible as usual, but I’ll award this one to Tanaka’s performance as Gyokuei, particularly in the post-rape scene and the sword practice scene. It would be easy to play Gyokuei as hysterical and over the top, but Tanaka brings a fine balance of rage and despair to both scenes. I haven’t seen Tanaka in other dramas, but I’m impressed with his finesse so far in playing Gyokuei. All of Yoshinaga’s arcs in the manga have wonderfully complex characters in them (some surprisingly so), but to me, the relationships between Iemitsu, Arikoto, and Gyokuei are some of the most delicate and difficult to portray. Yoshinaga wrote them beautifully, and I’m really happy that Tabe and Tanaka are doing them justice so far.

Next time on Ôoku: Tanjô: Iemitsu’s past, Gyokuei’s revenge, and the drag party!

Ooku, Vol. 2, p. 205

Ooku, Ep. 3. Ain’t no party like an ooku drag party… Image via TBS

Hello to my new readers from d-addicts, where my blog was linked on the Ôoku drama thread. I know I’m rather behind on the write-ups, but I do hope you enjoy them as I get them out.

Episode 2 recap here. For other past posts about the films, manga, and drama, see the Ôoku category.

Warning: spoilers, rape, violence.

I’m a great fan of stories (regardless of medium) that make me experience a range of complex and subtle emotions. Or, as one might say, something that hits me right in the feels. The events of Vol. 2, Ch. 4 in the manga–Ep. 3 in the drama (aired 26 Oct. 2012)– are the precursor to a truly epic emotional roller coaster.

Yoshinaga’s writing and art is extraordinary in that she uses a lot of subtle nuance, particularly in the art and the character’s expressions, combined with a very blunt narration that often closes the chapters with “And then he died two years later” or “But her given name was ______.”

This is one of those chapters where nuance is absolutely necessary, as it sets up the romantic relationship between Iemitsu and Arikoto. Without a good set-up, there can be no angst later.

And there will be angst. Lots of it. On a Rose of Versailles level.

Unfortunately, this episode has a good lead-up and falls flat on its face in the last five minutes. More on that in a moment.

Summary
This episode follows the plot of Vol. 2, Ch. 4. This is a longer summary than the others so far, but bear with me.

Gyokuei hears a rumor from the room-boys that a samurai is going around in Edo and cutting off women’s hair. Judging by Iemitsu’s longing glance at Kasuga’s hair and her frustration with her own short-for-a-woman top-knot, I bet you can’t guess who’s behind it. Iemitsu pays a visit to Arikoto and the cat, Wakamurasaki, and tells him about how Kasuga’s selection of a variety of types of men for the ôoku was like when Kasuga tried to get her father, Iemitsu I, to eat by offering him seven kinds of rice. (This makes a little more sense in the manga where we can see how “beautiful” Arikoto is compared to the other men. Ahem. More on that later.)

Wakamurasaki goes missing; Arikoto and Gyokuei find Shigesato, the concubine who lead the rape and torture of Gyokuei in episode 2, playing with the cat and creepily calling it “Uesama,” the honorific given to the Shogun (Your Highness, literally). Gyokuei steals Shigesato’s sword and murders the cat late at night in the garden, then blames Shigesato for it. Iemitsu is present when Shigesato is accused and unsheathes her sword to strike him down, but Arikoto stands in her way and refuses to move. Eventually Kasuga talks her down, but Iemitsu orders Shigesato to commit seppuku, which he does. Gyokuei is quite pleased with himself and tells the kitchen staff how amazing Arikoto was defending Shigesato from Iemitsu. This act earns Arikoto the respect of the male staff, who had often gone along with the other concubines’ plots against him.

Arikoto defending Shigesato from Iemitsu. Image via TBS

Iemitsu thinks Arikoto is ridiculous for making a grave for the cat, but Arikoto says that people deal with grief differently, and she should deal with hers about the cat and about her daughter who died shortly after birth. He also points out that revenge wouldn’t bring the cat back. At some point in the conversation, he realizes that Iemitsu has been sending Denemon, her retainer, out to steal girls’ hair because she’s mad about her lot in life. She shows him the box of ponytails and he yells at her for her cruelty. Iemitsu responds that no one really thinks she’s the Shogun; she’s just a place-holder until they can get a man (read: until she as a son).

Iemitsu is really upset by Arikoto’s condemnation of her actions, so she and Kasuga decide to throw a party. They order the concubines to dress in drag for Iemitsu’s amusement. As Iemitsu laughs at how strange the men (sans Arikoto, who is absent) look, we see a flashback to her past. To preserve Iemitsu I’s line, Kasuga found his illegitimate daughter Chie (Iemitsu II’s given name) and had her mother and nurse murdered before essentially kidnapping her. A few years later, Chie, now dressed as a boy, attempts to escape from the grounds when she is overpowered by a strange man, who is surprised to discover she’s a girl and rapes her. By the time Kasuga and her retainers get there, Chie has murdered the man with her own sword, saying that anyone who violates the body of the Shogun will die. She gives birth to a girl as a result of the rape, but the baby, whom she seems to love very much, dies shortly after birth; according to Inaba, she hasn’t been the same since then.

In the present, Iemitsu sends everyone at the “party” away, and Arikoto enters the room alone (not in drag. NOT. IN. DRAG.). He carries the women’s clothes Iemitsu sent for him to wear, and he narrates a voice-over about how he thought he could do the most good by being a priest and saving others but now has decided his job is to save Iemitsu. After placing the outer robe around her, he removes her sword and sheath and cuts the string holding her top-knot in place, freeing her hair. She hugs him and cries.

Best Performance
Sakai and Tabe did exceptionally well in the scene in which Iemitsu says that no one respects her as the Shogun. Their facial expressions really showed how each of them handles anger differently–Iemitsu a bit ferally (she reminds me of San from Mononoke-hime sometimes), while the anger Arikoto feels rolls over him like a wave. Tanaka as Gyokuei shone during the scene in which he tells the kitchen staff how awesome Arikoto was when he stopped Iemitsu from killing Shigesato. I think that Tanaka’s doing a great job conveying Gyokuei’s love for Arikoto as well as his character’s dark side.

Compared to the Manga

Wrong.

Wrong.

Wrong.

The moment Arikoto came into the room in his regular clothes, I basically did this:

Who cares if Iemitsu is the one he “has to save” because what was the point of this whole scene if he doesn’t cross-dress?

Let me explain.

Vol. 2, p. 117. This is not fanart. This is official art by Yoshinaga.

What I like about Manga!Arikoto is that he is not afraid of androgyny. When he asks Iemitsu at their first meeting to call him “Arikoto” instead of “O-man,” he’s afraid of being emasculated; he would really just rather be called by his first name. (We should note that the other current concubines really seem to hate this practice.) When he is angry about being forced into the ôoku, it’s not because he’s afraid of being treated like a woman, but because he had to give up his calling to be a priest. Later, when he accepts that he loves Iemitsu, he even references his desire for philanthropy in that maybe he can do more good in the world by saving her than he could have in the temple. When the other men in the ôoku tease him for being an ex-priest from an aristocratic family rather than a samurai and for having an “effeminate” Kyoto accent, he turns the other cheek but seems generally unconcerned with what they think of him. Although he later trains in martial arts and speaks perfect Edo-ben, he does so because that’s the path of solving conflict, not because he is ashamed to be “feminine.” Furthermore, while he is surprised at Iemitsu’s appearance at first, he is not intimidated by the fact that she cross-dresses for political reasons, that she prefers to wear lipstick and women’s kimono later, or that she is in a higher position of power at a historical point when many men are downright terrified about changing gender roles and norms. (Most of this is detailed in my posts on Vol. 2 and series on Vol. 3-4.)

“What does Your Highness think? How do you find my wig?”

“I’ve wanted to help the many people suffering in this world…but the one person I needed to save was right before my eyes.”

“See, it suits you far better than me, Your Highness.”

However, the biggest indicator of Arikoto’s being completely okay with his gender and sexuality is his willingness to participate in Iemitsu’s cross-dressing game. The other men seem awkward and unhappy to be dressed as women, and Iemitsu keeps laughing at them because they seem so odd. But when Arikoto enters the room, he stuns everyone with how good he looks in drag. As I’ve stated, Arikoto is androgynous in appearance and has good taste in fashion, but what makes his performance flawless is his willingness to participate in this gender play.

Compare this to the drama version: when he gives Iemitsu the women’s robe she sent him for the party, removes her sword, lets down her hair, and says, “It would suit you better,” I felt like the message was “I’m not a woman, but you are, so you should have this.” However, in the manga, when he takes off the outer robe and puts it around her shoulders, telling her “it suits you better,” he seems to be saying, “Wearing this for you doesn’t insult my gender identity. We don’t have to play into gendered roles of any kind. I love you for you, and if you want to wear women’s clothing, you ought to. I won’t think less of you as the Shogun.”

Furthermore, in the manga, he does not take away her sword or cut her top knot. He is not trying to feminize her. Manga!Iemitsu eventually settles into her own gender expression as she becomes more comfortable as a woman in power. Arikoto’s physically feminizing her appearance for her in the drama seems patronizing and patriarchal.

So why change it? From a practical standpoint, Sakai isn’t as androgynous as the manga Arikoto is, though, as I’ve said before, casting an actual androgynous ikemen-type actor, of which there are many in Japan, would have solved the problem. From a gender standpoint, perhaps the director or network did not want to “emasculate” their leading man or felt that having Arikoto in drag would be too “distracting.” Arikoto’s physical and performative androgyny, however, is a really critical part of his character. By changing the narrative to have him reject Iemitsu’s “demeaning” request, the drama detracts from what sets Arikoto aside from the other characters, most of whom have ideas about the way men and women out to act, whether it’s misogynistic Lord Asano (the 47 loyal ronin are proto-MRA types) or Onobu’s assertion that “men are weaker.” By changing this scene, the drama has erased Arikoto’s gender expression and his rejection of gender policing.

Honestly, I’m so angry with this point that it overshadows the good things about the episode, like the dynamic between Arikoto and Iemitsu as they warm up to each other, or the love that Gyokuei feels for Arikoto. This series deals with a lot of complex gender issues, and if the director or network won’t do them justice, they should let someone else handle it.

Read more about Ôoku here.

Next time on Ôoku: trouble in paradise.

Aired Nov. 9, 2012 on TBS.

This recap contains spoilers for the drama and the manga, including the Tsunayoshi story arc (vol. 4-6 and the film Ôoku: Eien). Episode 4 recap here; manga analysis here; Ôoku category (film, manga, and drama) here.

Before I start the recap today, I did see the Ôoku: Eien movie, and damn, is it good. Sakai is much, much better suited to playing Emonnosuke, and Kanno Miho was such a great Tsunayoshi. I need to collect my thoughts (and maybe see it again), but the sets are gorgeous, the music is great, and it’s a great “sequel” to the first film.

Image via TBS. http://www.tbs.co.jp/ohoku2012/gallery/p05-14.html

Having seen the film, I really wish the drama could have had a film budget, because the dynamic cinematography and lushness of the world are missing from the drama in a really palpable way.

Summary

The episode opens with Sutezo (KUBOTA Masataka) dreaming about his past–considering whether to take his companion’s offer of marriage and an easy life or to beat her up and take her money. When he wakes up, Masakatsu (HIRAYAMA Hiroyuki) and Kasuga (ASÔ Yumi) explain to him his job in the ôoku: to produce an heir with the shogun Iemitsu (TABE Mikako), whom they view as a regent until a male heir is born. They are concerned with Sutezo’s lack of class, particularly compared to Arikoto (SAKAI Masato), and worry that Iemitsu won’t like him. Kasuga meets with him to lecture him about how to best approach Iemitsu (don’t talk), then, in a particularly cruel twist, assigns Arikoto to mentor him since Arikoto is the only concubine to whom Iemitsu is actually attracted.

Gyokuei (TANAKA Koki) is concerned for Arikoto, but Arikoto explains that he thinks he can handle Iemitsu sleeping with other men as long as she only loves him.* Meanwhile, as Iemitsu prepares to meet Sutezo, she treats Kasuga with cold contempt. Kasuga begs forgiveness–it’s for the sake of the Tokugawa line! (See “Compared to the Manga” for more on this.) Iemitsu still doesn’t care and plans to go down with the Tokugawa line since she suspects that she may have fertility issues, but decides to go through with sleeping with Sutezo to prove her point. Arikoto helps get Sutezo dressed and ready for his debut with Iemitsu. Unfortunately, Sutezo decides to tell Iemitsu that he’s surprised that she’s “such a young, cute princess,” then, gaining confidence, says that he’ll take it from here. She reacts violently, throwing him across the room and kicking him onto the futon for his insolence before delivering one of the most memorable lines of this arc: “You aren’t going to take me. I’m going to take you.”

Image via TBS. http://www.tbs.co.jp/ohoku2012/gallery/p05-14.html

The next morning, Gyokuei comes in to find Arikoto seated in the middle of his room, which he has completely destroyed with his sword. Arikoto tells Gyokuei that he is a hypocrite and that Gyokuei was right about his not being okay with Iemitsu’s seeing other men. Later, Masakatsu gives Arikoto a kitten he found–a white one that looks just like Wakamurasaki/Oneko-sama from episode 3. Gyokuei sees the kitten and is shocked; later, he confesses to killing Wakamurasaki and framing Shigesato to get revenge on him. He breaks down, telling Arikoto that even though he has acted in revenge and against Shigesato and has thoughts of hurting Sutezo, that saintly Arikoto should be dragged down into the muck too is unbearable. Arikoto, of course, forgives him, telling Gyokuei that he is “a good child” (ええ子や).

Soon after, Iemitsu is confirmed to be pregnant. Her face belays mixed feelings–fear of possibly losing another child; sadness that the father is not Arikoto, who has been banned from her quarters; and even a twinge of relief. Arikoto sends congratulations; Sutezo is beside himself with joy. That summer Iemitsu gives birth to a girl.

Best Performance

I loved the scene in which Sutezo meets Iemitsu for the first time. Even though Tabe slight and Kubo stands a full head taller than her, her violent refusal of his offer to let him “take the lead” was very convincing, perhaps because one can see how easily he would have underestimated her strength and will. Interestingly, in the manga, Iemitsu then disrobes facing him; her face is hard to read (anger? determination? resignation?). In the drama, she turns away from Sutezo to disrobe; this may be to make it more dramatic or for fear of showing too much chest on TV. Tabe makes the same face as manga!Iemitsu, too, which was a nice touch. Also, the cut to Arikoto alone in his room was a great transition; this highlighted his inability to lie to himself about what was going to happen with Iemitsu and Sutezo as well as his loneliness and anger.

Compared to the Manga

On a humorous note, one of my friends watching this expressed displeasure at Sakai’s “smug-zen” face, which she pointed out didn’t happen at all in the manga. His acting is good, but I like him so much more as calculating Emonosuke in the Eien film!

On a more serious note, this is where the story starts getting really depressing and runs my emotions through the wringer. (In tumblr terms: gross creys and all-the-feels start here.) If you have only seen this series once, I recommend rewatching it or reading the manga–if you’re like me, you’re going to spend the next few hours alternately whimpering and yelling at the screen/book. (See also: rewatching Doctor Who, rereading The Rose of Versailles, or any other really emotional drama when you can see all the foreshadowing and character arcs.)

One of the shared themes of the Iemitsu and Tsunayoshi arcs is the parent-child relationship: in Iemitsu’s, Iemitsu II’s relationship with mother-figure Kasuga (as well as Masakatsu’s, Kasuga’s biological son, relationship with his mother) and Gyokuei/Keshoin’s relationship with his daughter Tsunayoshi. Although Iemitsu dies while Tsunayoshi is very young, both women have a parent or parent-figure who constantly stresses the importance of carrying on the family line and goes to extreme measures to ensure she do so.

I find it interesting that Gyokuei’s later echoing of Kasuga really interesting–even though Tsunayoshi is his and Iemitsu’s daughter, Iemitsu’s unhappiness at her separation from Arikoto and death from complications of miscarriages does not deter him from urging Tsunayoshi to continue the line. On the other hand, perhaps because he has had the importance of carrying on the line (versus naming an heir from the Owari or Kii branches of the Tokugawa family) drilled into his head, knowing the Iemitsu basically died trying, and also knowing his daughter occupies the most important position in the country makes him press on, even when she is too old to bear another child. (Tsunayoshi states at one point that a former monk who has lived surrounded by men his whole life probably knows nothing of female biology.) Even though we see many of the main characters from their adolescence to their old age, the difference between young Gyokuei and old Gyokuei is so stark that it actually reminds me a little of the character development in Citizen Kane in so much as we see a “bright young thing” full of ambition turn into a lonely old man who pushes away or loses everyone he has cared about.

Speaking of Gyokuei, one of the added scenes was the one of the Wakamurasaki/Oneko-sama doppelganger. Gyokuei sees the cat and freaks out, an episode that leads him to confess that he killed the cat and framed Shigesato. I found this neither added nor detracted from the plot, but it might have helped reminder the audience of that incident prior to his confession.

Next time on Ôoku: problematic persimmon trees.

Note

*While this is actually a really progressive stance on having partners outside a primary relationship, Arikoto actually discovers he can’t handle it as well as he had hoped. I feel that this is not a condemnation of non-monogamy but evidence that individuals fall on a spectrum of how they personally feel about open relationships. It wasn’t right for Arikoto and Iemitsu because neither of them were willing (it is a duty) and because of their personal desires for exclusivity, but that doesn’t mean it can’t work for others in different situations–for example, in vol. 7, Yoshimune has a happily companionate relationship with her attendant (infertile) Sugishita, who also acts as a father to her daughters, but sleeps with all the eligible men of the ôoku in turn (as well as some of the low-ranking staff).

Have no fear–I didn’t forget about this project!

Aired Nov. 14, 2012, on TBS.

This recap contains spoilers for the drama and the manga. Episode 5 recap here; manga analysis here; Ôoku category (film, manga, and drama) here.

Image via TBS. http://www.tbs.co.jp/ohoku2012/gallery/p06-04.html

Vol. 3, p. 106

Summary

This episode corresponds to Vol. 3, Ch. 3 in the manga. At the preparations for the small feast to be given in honor of the birth of Iemitsu’s (TABE Mikako) daughter Chiyo (not technically her heir as of yet), Arikoto (SAKAI Masato) oversees the division of food, and even gives Katsuda, the head of the kitchen, a place at the table. His fairness and generosity have won over practically the whole ôoku sans the other concubines; Arikoto, ever the do-gooder, always searching for a way to help others, has stepped into a semi-managerial role. Meanwhile, Iemitsu’s advisors are worried because she’s allowing farmers to sell their fields in order to prevent problems while her daughter grows up. One of them jokingly suggests that, since the merchants are passing the family business to their daughters, women should become the heirs of the samurai families. Secretly, one of the advisors, Matsudaira (TANDA Yasunori) actually has a daughter, Shizu, whom he and his wife are passing off as their son who died of the pox.

Meanwhile, Sutezo (KUBOTA Masataka) visits baby Chiyo, with whom he is quite enchanted, and Iemitsu gives him the name “Oraku” (お楽)  to suit his carefree personality. Whereas Arikoto was annoyed that Iemitsu wanted to call him a “woman’s name” (Oman) as part of her power play, Oraku is touched, saying that just having their daughter is enough. Just as Oraku is about to (possibly) confess his love to Iemitsu, Arikoto arrives. As Oraku leaves, he excitedly tells Arikoto about his new name. Arikoto and Iemitsu look at the baby together, and she takes his hand, saying that he’s the only one for her.

Oraku wakes up from a nap in the sun (of course) and Kasuga encourages him to “make sure” the next child is a boy, not a girl. He happily bounds over to a persimmon tree in the garden and jumps for a fruit he can’t reach, but something goes wrong mid-air and he hits his on a rock, partially paralyzing himself. Arikoto visits and makes sure he’s well cared for. Because Oraku is out of commission, Kasuga allows Iemitsu to reunite with Arikoto. They reignite their affair for three months, but Iemitsu does not become pregnant.

Since no one knows that Iemitsu is actually a woman, Masakatsu (HIRAYAMA Hiroyuki) dons a mask to pretend to be the Shogun for an appointment with a young samurai who has reached adulthood–his own son, Masanori. He tells the young man that he knew his father, who would have been proud of him, and to take care of his mother and siblings. Masanori relates the story to Oyuki (his mother/Masakatsu’s wife). Masakatsu is alone in his hidden room when Kasuga comes to tell him to never pull a stunt like that again.

Kasuga arranges for a new concubine, Mizuguchi Sakyo (Onatsu), the son of a samurai family, and then tells Arikoto to tell Iemitsu about said new concubine–and to break up with her. Iemitsu agrees, saying that her grandmother was married to four men and had a lot of children during the Warring States Period, so she will have endure and try to have a boy. Yet, she says, because she loves Arikoto, she can’t endure it; she loves her daughter but she came to hate Oraku. Then she delivers the line that twists the knife a little deeper:

“No matter how many children I have with other men, the only one in my heart is you, Arikoto.”

Arikoto disagrees, saying that she’s become more beautiful and stronger because she’s now a mother, then leaves. Iemitsu sleeps with Mizuguchi (Onatsu) that night. The following morning, Arikoto requests that Gyokuei (TANAKA Kôki), who has been the biggest cheerleader for Arikoto’s and Iemitsu’s relationship, become Iemitsu’s concubine and have a child with her “in my place.”

Image via TBS. http://www.tbs.co.jp/ohoku2012/gallery/p06-09.html

Vol 3. p. 117.

Compared to the Manga

Oraku’s accident is treated as unfortunate in the manga, but in the drama, the accident takes on a horribly cartoonish, unfunny tone that cheapens the freak-accident nature of the event. In the manga, Oraku slips off the corridor and hits his head on a rock in the garden. In the drama, he jumps to pick a high-hanging persimmon off a tree in the garden, echoing his introductory scene, but he fails at landing, hitting his head on a rock. We see the incident in slow-motion, and instead of coming off as dramatic, the cuts between the rock and his flailing fall just seem overdramatic. I get that Oraku is sort of a goofy character, but there was nothing wrong with the original scene; the cinematography and the change in events (which added nothing) took me out of the drama.

Plot twist: Matsudaira’s effeminate son is actually a girl. I think I liked this plotline better when his child was a boy, if only because it showed how social constructions of gender were in flux, and also because there were other daimyô with cross-dressing heirs already.

Also, the Masakatsu subplot is an addition for the drama. I like that we get to see more of his story.

Stray observation: the order of Iemitsu’s “only you” speech is reversed in the drama. The full speech is “No matter how many men Kasuga brings in, the only one I have a true bond with is you. And no matter how many children I have with other men, the only one in my heart is you, Arikoto.”

Vol. 3, p. 124

Best Scene

Although the performance was great, I was actually more impressed with the cinematography in the “only you” scene, particularly after that line. The camera cuts to a close up of Iemitsu, then a close up of Arikoto, and then pans back so they are both in the shot, sitting apart. The distance between them is palpable. However, I wish the dialogue had ended there. In the manga, Arikoto thinks those final lines, which are overlaid in text boxes on a black panel, one next to his face, then next to the candle . A voice-over would have been more powerful. (The lines: “Those quiet eyes. You say that nothing has changed, but you have changed. You’ve become strong. You’ve become beautiful. It’s because you’re a mother. And I couldn’t give you a child.”)

Next time on Ôoku: Kasuga does not support female daimyô.

First of all, a bit of (old?) news from the entertainment world: Kanno Miho, who played Shogun Tokugawa Tsunayoshi in the film Ôoku: Eien, and Sakai Masato, who played Arikoto in the drama and Emonosuke in the film, registered their marriage on 2 April. おめでとうございます！May your work in excellent gender-based dramas lead to you happiness. (Sources: Oricon, Tokyo Hive)

Source: Oricon

Aired Nov. 23, 2012, on TBS.

This recap contains spoilers for the drama and the manga. Episode 6 recap here; manga analysis here; Ôoku category (film, manga, and drama) here.

Iemitsu and Denemon. Image from TBS.

Vol. 3, p. 140

Summary

1642: a famine and the Pox have devastated Edo, but in town is as lively as ever, bustling with working women–shopkeepers. Iemitsu (TABE Mikako) and Denemon are out on the town, and she notices the new popular up-dos, which Denemon says make it easier for mobility. Iemitsu purchases combs from a shop, and the shop-keeper offers her a night with her (adult) son, as well. Iemitsu is shocked that the men are being prostituted out by their families. They head to Yoshiwara (the famous brothel and the same one from which Kasuga procured the female prostitutes for the monks), which is populated by sick men.

In order to combat the famine and the farmers’ fleeing, Iemitsu decides that peasants will be tied to the land.

Meanwhile, Gyokuei (TANAKA Kôki) is preparing to sleep with Iemitsu at Arikoto’s  (SAKAI Masato) request. He and Iemitsu chat in the bedroom first. Gyokuei is very hesitant about the request since sleeping with her, especially in the same bed that she and Arikoto shared, makes him uncomfortable, like he’s betraying Arikoto. However, he says that refusing Arikoto’s request–something he says he cannot do–would have been more painful still. But Gyokuei doesn’t want Arikoto to “lose” to Onatsu, the new concubine, and says, “I don’t serve you or Buddha, I serve Arikoto.” Iemitsu finds his devotion attractive (see “Best Scene”), and they spent the night together.

The next morning, Iemitsu and Arikoto talk about Gyokuei/Otama, and Arikoto says that Gyokuei is the light to his shadow (are we in BeruBara now?), an extension of himself. He tells Iemitsu about a time when a monk predicted that Gyokuei would become “the father of the entire country.”

At the August greetings to the Shogun, Matsudaira and Terutsuna (who is cross-dressing) meet the governor of Sanuki and his son Tadatomo. Terutsuna tells her father afterwards that Tadatomo is a girl. Meanwhile, Masukatsu’s son returns from the event with a “heat rash” (read: the pox).

At a meeting of advisors, Masamori and others suggest that women should be able to inherit the daimyoship. Kasuga (ASO Yumi) objects, saying that such a position is a birthright of the samurai class; what the peasants and shopkeepers do is their own business. Kasuga asks if the men want to see women as generals, and the men say that Iemitsu is doing a great job as the Shogun–sex doesn’t seem to matter. (Bravo!)

Image from TBS.

Kasuga is quite angry and becomes even more angry when she discovers that Arikoto has arranged a chrysanthemum-viewing party for the men of the ôoku. Arikoto is advising Gyokuei on his outfit for the party (“don’t be too showy”). Kasuga is furious that the men of the ôoku. are doing something so “frivolous” instead of something more manly. Arikoto argues that all they do is martial arts and working on protecting the Shogun; why can’t they just have a small party to enjoy themselves once in a while? (More on this scene here.) Kasuga exits in a rage and collapses.

In discussing Kasuga’s sickness, Arikoto suggests that Kasuga is sort of a mother figure to Iemitsu; Iemitsu says that even though Kasuga killed her mother and has tried to ruin her relationship with Arikoto, she still feels something toward her. When the wet nurse Yajima neglects Kasuga on her sick bed, Arikoto becomes her nurse. Oraku, still an invalid after his fall, and some of the servants have caught the pox, and Arikoto becomes nurse to them all, moving the sick men into the room next to Kasuga’s since she can’t catch it. He orders the men to tell Iemitsu that they all have a cold so as not to worry her. Kasuga allows him to move the sick men into her room. Finally, Masakatsu’s son Masanori has caught the pox, too.

Compared to the manga

The remains of Yoshiwara. Vol. 3, p. 145.

I stupidly packed up my manga in a box that I won’t have access to for a little bit, so I’m going to have to wing this. In the manga, the Yoshiwara is populated by sick women, which is why Iemitsu decides to repopulate it with healthy men. I thought this was a little strange to change this part, and I’m pretty sure drama!Iemitsu didn’t even mention it. (It might be in the next episode.)

I’m also pretty sure Terutsuna/Shizu was a boy in the manga instead of a girl who has had to live as a boy to become the heir of her family.

[I'll update this when I get my hands on my manga.]

Best Scene and Acknowledging Female Sexuality

Gyokuei’s preparations to sleep with Iemitsu, particularly his dialogue with Arikoto, broke my heart. Cutting to shots of Arikoto sitting in his room as Gyokuei’s hair was shaved off and dressed, as if Arikoto were mentally tracing his path to her chambers, was particularly effective. Both the men clearly were conflicted about the request.

Also, when Gyokuei tells her that he’ll do anything for Arikoto, even sleep with her, her reaction is priceless. “You and I are similar… Arikoto and I will talk about what happened here tonight,” she says, caressing his lips. “Arikoto will still love you.” Is Iemitsu (un)secretly a Arikoto/Gyokuei shipper?

I love that this drama and the manga acknowledge female sexual agency and sexual diversity, including kink. In a way, Iemitsu gets off on Gyokuei’s relationship with Arikoto, but that does not mean she loves Arikoto less. In contrast, Tsunayoshi’s sexual experimentation in vol. 5-6 and the second movie arises as a cure for boredom, and while it’s easy to dislike that character because of her cruelty and her disinterest in running the country, Yoshinaga has plenty of other female characters who deviate from sexual norms, both those of the real world and those of the world she built.

That’s really the crux of her ability to explore sexual and gender: there are so many female characters and so many male characters that no single character somehow represents the entirety of a sex. A token female (or racial/ethnic/sexual minority) often ends up standing in for “all women” in media devoid of other female characters. When a story has a more balanced cast, we can see character flaws not as an indictment of women but as a facet of well developed characters. Tsunayoshi’s inability to lead is not because she’s female any more than Iemitsu’s and Yoshimune’s leadership qualities come from their being female. We rarely accuse men of being poor leaders because they are men, after all. Similarly, Yoshimune’s and Hiraga Gennai’s (of vol. 9) tendency to dress plainly and practically becomes a personal choice rather than a rejection of feminine dress; Iemitsu, when she has the power to choose, chooses to dress like a fashionable woman and wear makeup. The same is true of the men. There’s no one right way to be a woman or a man in this series.

Next time on Ôoku: the lipstick Shogun.

Aired Nov. 30, 2012, on TBS.

This recap contains spoilers for the drama and the manga. Episode 7 recap here; manga analysis here; Ôoku category (film, manga, and drama) here.  I am probably never going to recap a show episode-by-episode again…. お待たせしました！

Image via TBS.

Summary

When Oraku falls ill with the Red Face Pox, Arikoto (SAKAI Masato) brings him into Kasuga’s (ASO Yumi) sick room. Gyokuei (TANAKA Kôki) is confused as to why he would help Kasuga, his nemesis, or Oraku, his rival, but Arikoto replies that he wants to be useful. He divides his time between caring for both patients. While Oraku is very ill and has to be fed, Kasuga insists on feeding herself and does not want to be treated like a patient. Oraku asks why Arikoto is treating him with such kindness when no one ever has before, to which Arikoto responds that he is Chiyo’s father. Oraku asks to see his daughter one last time, then stops breathing.  ”It was a noble end,” Arikoto tells the other men of the ôoku.

Iemitsu  (TABE Mikako)  seems nonplussed when Arikoto tells her of Oraku’s death; however, she’s very concerned about Kasuga’s health. Arikoto discovers that Kasuga has not been taking her medicine and is hiding it under her futon again because she doesn’t think it will help. Arikoto pretends that he didn’t seen her untouched “stash.” Kasuga tells Arikoto about how her father was executed and how she, as a small child, and her family traveled in exile through the forest. While her sisters complained about the hard journey, she soldiered on, never forgetting that time.

In Iemitsu’s chambers, Gyokuei asks after Kasuga. Iemitsu says that it’d be a lie to say that Kasuga was like a mother to her, but that without her, she would not have become shogun; Kasuga loved her father as a son, and so she was a tool to continue his line. “Because of my father, I was born, but sometimes I think it’d be better if I hadn’t been born like this.” Gyokuei says he’s glad she’s alive. “It’s not that I don’t ever have fun or am not ever happy, but where is the purpose in my life?”

Image via TBS.

Inaba Masukatsu’s son dies of the pox. His wife Oyuki’s solution is to dress their daughter as a man and pass her off as their son.

At a meeting with her advisors, Iemitsu, the advisors worry that the country will collapse as the pox kills off more and more men. Iemitsu replies, “If it falls, so be it. It’s my duty to protect this country until the last of us dies.”

Kasuga asks Murase to become the official record keeper and keep a journal of all the happens in the ôoku. (It is from him that Yoshimune will receive the records that explain the history of ôoku.) Arikoto visits her; she wonders how many people she has killed in the name of lasting peace. Arikoto tells her that he doesn’t hold a grudge against her; she has caused him pain and sadness, but he is grateful to her for allowing him the chance to help others. (Someone just give this guy Bodhisattva-hood. I can’t even deal with this.) Kasuga is shocked. Her final request to him is that to take over the ôoku in her place when she dies.

In a flashblack, Kasuga tells her son that she is going to Edo to serve the Tokugawa. He begs her to take him with her. He agrees to follow her even though he won’t be allowed to be her “son” anymore, since she will be the wet nurse for the Shogun (Iemitsu I). Kasuga dies with Iemitsu, Arikoto, and her son by her side.

Image via TBS.

At Terutsuna’s ceremony recognizing “him” as a samurai, Iemitsu, sitting behind her curtain, orders him to rise. The curtain is pulled up to reveal the Shogun dressed in women’s clothing, with combs in her hair, wearing makeup. She descends from her dais, and explains that Iemitsu I died 10 years ago, and that she has been acting in his place. “I am the rightful heir. I was born to his position. If our nation falls, I will go down with it. Is there anyone here who would object to a woman Shogun?!”

The entire rooms bows down to her.

Compared to the manga

My manga is in a moving truck heading for me next week–finally! In the manga, I believe that Kasuga’s flash back is not a story told to Arikoto, but this narrative technique helps smooth some of the transitions that can be unclear to new readers of the manga (flashbacks have a black background for the blank edges around the cells.)

In general, I really liked this episode. The final scene of this chapter in the manga, in which Iemitsu comes out as a woman, is one of my favorite scenes in the series. I thought that Tabe practically yelled her ultimatum, and I thought when I read the manga that it would be more cool and forceful. Yet, since there was always a possibility one of the men in the room might try to kill her, I don’t think it’s a poor interpretation.

Vol. 4, p. 10-11

Themes

The parallels of Kasuga’s regrets and guilt on her deathbed to Gyokuei’s on his as an old man are notable. Every character in the ôoku is there because of her: Inaba, when she went to Edo to work for the Tokugawa; the men of the ôoku, including Arikoto and Gyokuei; and Iemitsu herself. All were brought to this place unwillingly and through coercion and violence. While the same isn’t true for Gyokuei, the affection for and feelings of guilt toward his own daughter, Tsunayoshi, are very similar to those Kasuga has toward Iemitsu, the mother Tsunayoshi barely knew.

I’m saving the big biology-and-choice and mirror-of-fantasy discussions for the final wrap up of the arc, but in the meantime, let me say again how I love that all of Yoshinaga’s characters have such a range of gender expression. Although Iemitsu II cross-dresses to hide her sex when dealing with her advisors (even when they already know), she’s more comfortable wearing the same style of clothing, hair, and makeup as other fashionable and well-to-do women. Whereas we often associate a more masculine gender presentation with power and a bold personality (think Oscar of BeruBara), Iemitsu is an excellent example of a power femme. There is no reason why a leader can’t wear lipstick or skirts or women’s kimono. Iemitsu’s cosmetics seem to be for her comfort and enjoyment, whereas for Tsunayoshi, they are a crutch and a burden, a reminder of loss of fertility and beauty. The talisman of independence for one person can just as easily be the burden of gender norms for another.

Also, the parallels between Iemitsu’s and Arikoto’s similar aesthetic senses (elegant, luxurious, and yet practical and never over the top–a splash of color and the finest embroidery) is such a great visual technique for how well suited they are for each other, and yet so subtle I didn’t even notice it until writing this. Excuse me while I go die of a broken heart.

Next time on Ôoku: you are not prepared for these feelings, part 1.

Finally reunited with my manga and it feels so good!

Image via TBS

Aired Dec. 7, 2012, on TBS.

This recap contains spoilers for the drama and the manga. Episode 8 recap here; manga analysis here; Ôoku category (film, manga, and drama) here.

In this episode of Things I Started Recapping a Year Ago Ôoku:

After Iemitsu gives her speech about being the Shogun and a woman, her audience bows. When they raise their heads again, the camera pans around the room to show not just Terutsuna smiling at her, but many of the other young heirs who appear to be girls dressed as boys.

Masakatsu is released from his service as the stand-in Shogun but is forced to remain in the ôoku to serve the Shogun.

At the New Year’s greetings, Teratsuna and all the female daimyo and samurai appear in their finest–except this time, all of them have let their hair grow in and are in women’s kimono. Teratsuna talking to her father Matsudaira after. She speaks in a more “feminine” register and language, but tells him that she felt being a boy suited her better. They run into Inaba Masakatsu’s daughter Masanori. 

Oyuki and Masanori. Image via TBS.

At home, Oyuki asks if Masanori saw her father at the palace. Masanori, now the head of house, urges her mother to forget her father, who served the Tokugawa family, but Oyuki isn’t convinced by the talk of duty and honor.

As noted in Ep. 7, the Yoshiwara brothel employs a few mentally ill men, so Iemitsu orders 100 men to be rounded up and employed as prostitutes for the reopening of Yoshiwara. She also creates an edict that the first man to have sex with the Shogun (the gonaishô ご内証) will be put to death for violating the body of the Shogun. (n.b.: in cases where the Shogun was already married or had a lover, this did not occur, which is why it’s a shock to everyone in the Yoshimune arc.) Arikoto agrees, and she says that he’s changed. He says he’s glad Kasuga brought him to the ôoku; she says that’s not true, but during those years she had something she couldn’t do without: Arikoto–he kept her going all that time, and now she’s all alone. Arikoto says that his feelings for her haven’t changed.

Masakatsu visits Arikoto and tells him that the Shogun has requested him tonight, but he comes back later and says that’s she’s not feeling well enough. After the birth of her second daughter, whose father is either Onatsu or Otama/Gyokuei, Iemitsu requests Arikoto that night and embraces him, saying they can finally be together. He says nothing and gently pushes her away, then bows in front of her, asking to be removed from his service as her concubine. She asks if he doesn’t want her because she’s been “defiled” by so many men, but he responds he’s scared; he doesn’t know if her feelings will change. She says that’s ridiculous and to believe her, that she loves him alone now matter whose children she has born. That’s the problem, though–because he’s infertile, she’ll still sleep with her concubines, and no matter how hard he tried to be okay with that, he’s just a man. “Please release me from this terrifying world of men and women.” “We’ve become distant,” she says.

Image via TBS.

Iemitsu leaves the room and Masakatsu follows her out and drapes her in a robe. “I’m all alone,”, she says. “This is what being the Shogun is.” Masakatsu is the only one who really understands since he acted as the Shogun. “This is fate,” his replies. “Was it fate that your son Masanori died?” “Yes.” “I won’t forgive you if you die. You were there when my father died. Your fate is here with me,” she says.

Onatsu and Gyokuei and the other concubines attend an audience, where Iemitsu names Arikoto as the new head of the ooku, taking Kasuga’s place. Arikoto enters with his trademark flowing water pattern on his kataginu.

Compared to the Manga

Also, I confirmed that Terutsuna is a girl in the manga version as well. I wrote those recaps when I didn’t have access to my manga and I think I was getting Terutsuna’s father, who thinks its unnatural for his daughter to enjoy being a boy so much, mixed up with Sutezo/Oraku’s father, who thinks that his son isn’t acting “like a man.” We only see Terutsuna in the manga three time: once when the character is introduced, when Terutsuna points out that Matsudaira’s son is also a girl, and when Terutsuna presents her New Year’s greetings. I liked the addition of scenes with this character, as well as the acknowledgment that she is more comfortable acting as a boy.

There’s an added scene after Arikoto agrees to the gonaishô where Iemitsu and Arikoto talk about how they’ve changed.

There are a LOT of flashbacks to fill in time.

Masakatsu and Iemitsu become a lot closer in the drama than in the manga, which may be important in the last episode.

Arikoto can’t take it anymore. Vol. 4, p. 25.

Favorite Scene + Gender Themes

The smiles and joy in the eyes of the many young samurai who appear to be girls in the scene when Iemitsu comes out, essentially validating their existence through her own, was beautifully done. The scene is subtly crafted, relying on visual queues without playing into notions about gendered markers–some of the samurai are smooth-cheeked and have more delicate features, but not all of them do, and many are very androgynous. It’s really the look of sheer delight that gives away the girls. Here is the most powerful person in the whole country telling everyone that she is a woman and will not apologize for it, while wearing contemporary women’s makeup and clothing. It’s a moment of freedom: being a samurai no long means having to be (or pretend to be) a man, nor does it mean one has to adhere to culturally masculine fashions or behaviors. If Iemitsu can determine her own gender expression, then any of these samurai can choose theirs, too. She essentially has queered the entire political and cultural system, and although some behaviors and fashions do end up being codified as “masculine” or “feminine” in Yoshinaga’s Edo, even if they vary from Edo-period or contemporary Japanese ideas of gender, the entire concepts of “feminine” and “masculine” are disrupted.

What I mean specifically is that even though the basic clothing for men and women remains mostly faithful to history, its meaning changes. Not to overgeneralize, but historically the clothing of the leisure classes, especially women’s, tends toward the impractical; and, moreover, femme-shaming is an issue in the geek community, in being taken seriously in business, and even among women who love women (but if you don’t look feminine enough, that’s also a problem–thanks, social norms). Yet, in Edo, no one thinks less of a woman for appearing “feminine,” and we meet all sorts of women and men who dress in all sorts of ways throughout the course of the series. For the most part, articles of clothing like the hakama and kataginu, as well as hair styles and obi styles, remain sex-segregated but, at the same time, fashion and the appreciation thereof become more detached from gender expression and more conflated with personality. Iemitsu and Yoshimune, my two favorite examples, dress completely differently, but Iemitsu is thought of as no less of a leader and no less stubborn, intelligent, or pragmatic because she likes lipstick while Yoshimune prefers simple clothes in plain colors.

At the same time, what is culturally “masculine” and “feminine” is disrupted–while the men of Iemitsu’s reign worry that their sons are becoming “feminized” and their daughters aren’t fit to lead, a hundred years later, popular wisdom tells the characters that women are supposed to be strong, decisive, and pragmatic; men are supposed to be deferent, delicate, fickle, and less capable. But that’s not women acting “masculine” or men acting “feminine”; those are the new cultural masculinity and the new femininity*, to the extent that Mizuno is thought of as a tomgirl for liking martial arts so much.

Furthermore, it’s not a one-to-one switch: women do business and child-rearing; the firefighters in Vol. 7 are men because the women are busy with the children and their professional life (182-3). In some aspects of the world, there is an alien androgyny to life, and in others, gender roles are just as rigid.

In the final episode: NOPE NOPE NOPE

しかし、わしにとって掛け替いの無いものがあった。分からぬか？そなたじゃ。

Note

*Though individuals vary, and we even meet a(nother) genderqueer character in Vol. 8.

Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope you enjoy the final tragic episode of Ôoku: Tanjô, a.k.a. a preponderance of nope. This recap contains (major) spoilers for the drama and the manga. Episode 9 recap here; manga analysis here; Ôoku category (film, manga, and drama) here.

Image via TBS

Aired Dec. 14, 2012 on TBS.

Iemitsu gives birth to Tokuko, her third child, Gyokuei’s daughter. Arikoto comes to congratulate him. Gyokuei is excited because not only did he fulfill the prophecy about becoming the father of a ruler, he feels like he and Arikoto beat Onatsu, whom Gyokuei has always seen as his competition. Iemitsu wonders what her life would have been like if she and Arikoto could have had a child.

Tokuko grows up with Gyokuei and Arikoto doting on her. We get some scenes with Chiyo, the eldest daughter (Oraku’s) and Nagako, her second daughter (Onatsu’s). Chiyo, bored with her studies, requests that Arikoto take over as her tutor. Iemitsu asks Arikoto which of her daughters is most suited to being shogun but says they don’t really need to worry about her heir just yet.

Gyokuei tells Tokuko how much he and Arikoto are looking forward to the day when she becomes shogun. (Foreshadowing intensifies.) One day, Iemitsu is playing with Tokuko in the nakaniwa and collapses. She asks Arikoto to take her back to her room; the doctor tells her that it’s just the change of the seasons but tells the advisors she’ll die. She asks Onatsu and Gyokuei that if she dies, which daughter should be shogun; they name their own children. She asks Arikoto, too. She thinks Tokuko might be best, but Arikoto favors primogeniture and Chiyo.

Gyokuei is angry with Arikoto for not making a case for Tokuko to be the heir apparent. By spring, Iemitsu dies; we see her daughters viewing her body.

Teratsuna’s father has been called to serve as an advisor. Masakatsu commits suicide and is visited by the ghost of his dead son Masanori. Oyuki learns of Masakatsu’s death from [that dude] when he brings her the letter Masakatsu left for her.

Arikoto continues to serve as the head of the ôoku; Gyokuei has decided to return to the monastic life, and comes to visit him before he goes. Gyokuei asks for his forgiveness for his actions; Arikoto asks for forgiveness for bringing him to the ôoku in the first place, but Gyokuei thanks him–after all, he became the father of a (possible) shogun. Arikoto thanks him for helping him endure the ôoku.

Image via TBS

As Arikoto flashes back to their life together there, his thoughts turn to Iemitsu on her death bed. Iemitsu asks if he remembers their promise to die together, and he says his feelings haven’t changed. She says the time has come, but that he can’t die–he should live and make sure that Chiyo grows up to be a good shogun. Her oldest daughter has no other father left than him, and he needs to live “for Chiyo–no, for me and only for me. Arikoto, I loved you. You were different than the others. You were special to me.” She stops breathing. As the sun rises, Arikoto paints her lips for the last time with the rouge she always wore.

Chiyo approaches him, and he hugs her hard. In the ôoku, Arikoto announces the entrance of the shogun as she takes her first steps into the inner chambers. The introduction to the film (Tokuko/Tsunayoshi’s arc) is a 10 second clip saying that a new tale of the ôoku begins 30 years later. .

Compared to the manga

Vol. 4, p. 35.

This section of the manga goes very quickly. After Tokuko is born, Iemitsu dies relatively soon after without any scenes of her daughters’ childhood. Nagako, Onatsu’s daughter, is mentioned in one line; we never see her; and we also never see the daughters interact with their mother. Also, what happened to her in between Ietsuna becoming shogun and Tsunayoshi becoming shogun isn’t explained–my guess is that she’s supposed to be Hotta Masatoshi, a half-brother and advisor to Ietsuna who nominated Tsunayoshi as the fifth shogun. Although I liked seeing their interactions, I felt like Iemitsu’s lingering illness from so many miscarriages and relatively swift death in the manga had a greater emotional impact in so much as it replicated the pain of a sudden loss and drove home the point that even in a matriarchy, biology is still unkind. The official having a biological heir falls on a woman more harshly, and Iemitsu commented several times that she felt that she was being used for heirs.

The “who should be shogun” conversation is actually more similar to Yoshimune’s predicament in vol. 8, where she has three daughters and the oldest doesn’t seem fit to rule.

Ghost Masanori and Masakatsu was a little weird given Yoshinaga’s style. Also, the scene in which Oyuki and Masanori (the daughter) feel Masakatsu’s presence right after he died was such a stereotypical drama trope.

The simplified death scenes in the manga, I thought, were also preferable in that they focused more on Iemitsu’s relationship with Arikoto, especially that last haunting image of him painting her lips–the lipstick that she used to come into her own and assert her sense of self and her gender expression.

Young Ietsuna and entourage. Vol. 4, p. 57.

The ending of the chapter in the manga was also different. In the manga there is another chapter and a half of content after Iemitsu’s death. Chiyo/Ietsuna grows up and we get to see some of the social and political events of the time. Arikoto carries out Iemitsu’s last wishes: He is a good political advisor and even finds someone willing to die for the shogun’s sexual debut (the “secret swain”). However after he rescues 20-year-old Ietsuna during the Edo fire of 1657, she confesses her love for him. He is shaken since he thinks of himself as her father and leaves the returns to Kyoto to be a monk again. Ietsuna is an ineffectual shogun: she agrees with everything and dies with no heirs. Her sister Tokuko (Tsunayoshi) becomes the shogun, which is where the next chapter and the film begin. None of this was mentioned in the drama, which cuts out after he brings her into the chambers for the first time.

Final Thoughts

I’ve alread written most of my thoughts on gender throughout the recaps. Narrative-wise, the manga is better. I know people always say that, but I feel like the pacing is better.

I think my overall favorite performance was Tanaka Kôki as Gyokuei. He really captured Gyokuei’s complexities: his undying admiration of Arikoto, his pettiness and competitiveness with Onatsu, and his struggle to reconcile his earthly desires with his hopes to make Saint Arikoto proud of him. I didn’t like Sakai Masato in this particular role, though I thought he was great in Ôoku: Eien (the film) as Emmonosuke. Arikoto is a very difficult role, and I also had trouble suspending my disbelief because of Sakai’s age–he looks like a 30-something, not like a 17-year-old, which was all the more weird with Tabe Mikako (Iemitsu II) looking and being so much younger. Aso Yumi as Kasuga and Tabe were also good, but I feel they would have benefitted from a better script in places.

The first film was the best adaptation because the story was one volume and mostly self-contained. I had really high hopes for the drama because I thought the creators could spend more time with the complex narrative than a two-hour movie could, but I wish that it had been filmed as two movies. The cinematography was not as well done, and the need to fit the chapters into hour-long segments made the pacing strange. Also, I can’t stand the practice of playing the theme music over the final 10 minutes of every single episode. It gives me flashbacks to ”Prisoner of Love” and awkward musical times in Last Friends.

My final verdict is that the drama didn’t really do anything better than the manga, and that the manga is ultimately the better version. This is one of my favorite manga arcs. I adore the whole manga and all its characters–even Tsunayoshi, as you’ll see–and how all the arcs have such well crafted narratives and relevant social commentary, but the Iemitsu-Arikoto tragedy is the one that affected me the most.

Next: how does Eien hold as a film adaptation of Tsunayoshi’s arc, and is it possible to like one of the worst shoguns as a character?

わしにとって特別であった。

Vol. 8, p. 188. Yoshimune and Hisamichi

I know most of my readers are familiar with Yoshinaga Fumi’s Ôoku, but in case you’re new here or would like to recommend the manga to a friend, I wrote a guest post over on Have You Nerd? introducing the English-version of the manga.

In 1716, Tokugawa Yoshimune, the great-granddaughter of the first Tokugawa shogun, become shogun herself, despite being the third daughter of a branch family and having a low-ranking concubine as a father. During her reign as Shogun, Yoshimune enacted a number of reforms, though she maintained Japan’s closed-country status for fear of a foreign invasion if anyone learned that the country was actually run by women.

Not the version of Japanese history you learned in school? Then get thee to a purveyor of fine manga, for you have much to study.

Full article: “History Lessons from the Tokugawa Matriarchy: Ôoku: The Inner Chambers” on Have You Nerd?

If you’d like to read my more in-depth analyses of the Japanese version, check out my Ôoku category here on the blog or start here.

First of all, many thanks to the audience member who attended Kathryn‘s and my Sakuracon panel “Cross-dressing for Fun and Profit in Anime and Manga”! You were all great, and we enjoyed your questions and feedback. We’re planning on publishing a version of our presentation on our blogs (and hopefully elsewhere if we’re lucky) complete with images and hyperlinks, so stay tuned.

Hiraga Gennai, though (Vol. 10, p. 104)

Although we ended up having to rush through the section on Ôoku, there seemed to be a lot of interest in the series. I realized when I was writing down information on Ôoku for a lovely con-goer who approached us afterward to chat about the series and Hiraga Gennai that I really, really needed to better organize my Ôoku posts instead of sending people to the category, which is starting to get rather large. 

The Ôoku masterpost is here, and you can also find it next to the “about me” tab above the masthead.

While we’re here and before the post on the panel gets written, I just wanted to share some (humorous) thoughts on discussing my favorite characters:

Phrases I used the most to describe Ouran‘s Fujioka Haruhi‘s attitude toward shojo gender tropes: “Could you not? I can’t even.”  (I’m so sorry, audience, my version of Haruhi spends too much time on the Internet)

Personal title of my section on Hiraga Gennai (Vol. 8-10): “Gennai, though.”

(Secret title, tumblr-style: “Gennai, though, and also my FEELINGS, ugh you perfect precious puddin pop.” Very professional, I know.)

Thank you again to everyone who came!

[Image: Kanno Miho as the Shogun Tsunayoshi; she is holding a fan] Credit: moviecollection.jp

Contains major spoilers for Ôoku: Eien (Emonnosuke/Tsunayoshi) (film, 2013) and Yoshinaga Fumi’s Ôoku, vol. 4-6 (manga).

Following the TV drama Ôoku: Tanjô (2012) was Ôoku: Eien (Ôoku: Eternity, or “The Castle of Crossed Destinies”), released in late 2012. The film skips over Ietsuna’s reign as the 4th shogun and Arikoto’s retirement from the ôoku (vol. 4, ch. 2) and picks up a few years after Tsunayoshi’s reign has begun.

We start the film with some shots of women GETTING STUFF DONE before we close in on Edo Castle. Tsunayoshi (Kanno Miho) is shogun and Gyokuei, now known as Keishôin (Nishida Tokiyoshi), is back in the ôoku as her father.

[Image: Tsunayoshi, holding a dog, enters the ooku flanked by O-den, her father, her husband, and Emonnosuke] Source: news.livedoor

One of the aspects I like most about the film is the visual shorthand. We have this idea from the first and manga that the shogun going into the ôoku to pick her concubine for the night is sort of A Big Deal, both politically and socially. In Tsunayoshi’s case, her father and her husband are both trying to win her favor and influence her by setting her up with concubines loyal to them. In the first film, Yoshimune’s indifference to the concubines heightened the drama of her first choice.

However, in the first scene, the bells ring, the Shogun’s presence is announced, Tsunayoshi struts through the ôoku–and she yawns. The scene is a shot-for-shot of the manga and sets a very different tone for this arc than the dramatic first meeting of Arikoto and Iemitsu in vol. 2/the drama.

Vol. 4, p. 123. “Bored! Bored! Bored!” and sick of all her concubines.

As I’ve mentioned before, Tsunayoshi’s type of beauty is very “in” for the 2000s and ’10s, but is not considered “elegant” for the late 17th century: small, round face, huge eyes, full lips, and a large bust. Kanno Miho, however, does have contemporary elegance rather than “moe”style. This isn’t a criticism of Kanno herself or of Yoshinaga’s art style. Using a moe look for Tsunayoshi, at first indicates to the reader a series of cultural signs about the character’s personality: that she’s childish, uses her looks to manipulate, focuses more on beauty than on statecraft. Yet, Yoshinaga turns those signs on their heads: Tsunayoshi feels that her older sister set a precedent of always saying yes that she has to fight against. The ridiculous laws about protecting animals are not because she is childish and impractical but a challenge to those who don’t respect her as well as a way of showing affection to her senile father, who is the only one who loves her. Her beauty practices are not for herself or for fun but out of fear that her concubines will not want to be with her if she isn’t beautiful.

[Image: Tsunayoshi asks Yoshiyasu to put her makeup on thicker.] Source: news.livedoor

I really like Sakai Masato, who also played Arikoto in the drama, better as Emonnosuke. He’s the correct age for the role, and it’s nice to see him in less of a “nice guy” role. Having him and Kanno both play unlikeable characters who like each other is a delight.

[Image: Tsunayoshi in her under robe, invites Nagisada’s son to her bed.] Source: news.livedoor

Additionally, Tsunayoshi’s comment to Emonnosuke that she’s not a ruler but “no better than” a sex worker (which is a privileged to say but not entirely inaccurate) echoes her mother Iemitsu’s words when she was just the means to an heir–all Kasuga and Keshôin care about is continuing the family line, destroying the lives of the Shogun who has to bear the heir. In the manga and this film adaptation, Yoshinaga delivers another emotional rollercoaster of an arc that features a complex look at both historical and contemporary gender norms surrounding the birth dearth, reproductive rights, and family lineage.

Bonus: “I keep expecting Emonnosuke to have a Twin Peaks line up of wagashi.”

The most notable differences between the plots:

1. The film ends after Emonnosuke’s death, just as Tsunayoshi is going to see him. Perhaps it’s more of a dramatic end to the film without Keishôin’s decline and death, all the discussion of succession (there’s a lot in the manga), and her own death, which might have been too dark to end the film on. Though it’s pretty dark as is.
2. Arikoto never comes back to visit Keishôin, which he does in the manga, finding Keishôin senile and remorseful for his indulgences.
3. The robe scene. In the manga, when Tsunayoshi finally breaks free of her father’s influence and names a successor, he grabs her outer robe as she leaves the room, visually freeing her from the duties of the Shogunate. In the film, she drops the room herself as she runs through the inner chambers to see Emonnosuke.

Best scene: Tsunayoshi and Emonnosuke flirting via a discussion of the Mandate of Heaven.

I’m looking forward to continuing this series into a 6th(?!) year. Next time, we’ll head back into Tsunayoshi’s reign to discuss actual MRA Lord Asano.

All images: (C) 2012 男女逆転『大奥～永遠～［右衛門佐・綱吉篇］』製作委員会.