Chronologically speaking there exists a large gap in my archived files. There is approximately a year for which I cannot locate my written works which I completed for my Honors college classes. The reason for the gap is inconsequential however I continue to search for the works in question. Thus the next in the series is a midterm research essay of some scope which I composed for a nonwestern-civ class entitled The Way of the Warrior: The Samurai Tradition in literature and film.
This essay demonstrates clearly a vast improvement in both tone, voice and style. While the omnipresent and ubiquitous comma splice errors and other various and sundry odd mechanical problems still occur, this essay is light years ahead of (in my opinion) the bulk of the previous posted works. Notice also the extreme amount of background research performed.
Yamato Takeru: A Portrait of the Loser Hero
By Nate Kistner
Submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for
Honors 2310-001: The Way of the Warrior:
The Samurai Tradition in Japanese Literature and Film
Inst: Elizabeth Eckelkamp
October 16, 2007
“ Art is that which lies in the slender margin between
truth and falsehood… …participating in the false, it is yet not
false. Participating in the true, it is yet not true.” (Miner 14)
--Chikamatsu Monzaemon (1653- 1724)
“…everybody loves a hero…”
--Rosemary Harris as “Aunt May” (Spider Man II 1:22:30)
Yamato Takeru: A Portrait of the Loser Hero
By Nathaniel Kistner
Every culture across the globe has its own folklore, simple stories passed down through generations – often by word of mouth – that help to shape that countries identity, to itself and to other cultures that view it. These stories are often unbelievable tall tales; however, many cut their roots in real historical events. These events, through time from mouth to mouth, come to be distorted and gradually change into the tales that exist today; and while the stories themselves are as varied and unique as the people that created them, it seems that all stories, tall tales, and mythologies share certain common elements. The story of Zeus - from Greek and Roman mythology, or Izanami and Izanagi - from Japanese mythology, or the story of the Heavenly Cow - from Egypt, all share certain literary elements that can be extrapolated and compared to one another. These elements are of endless fascination to anthropologists, historians and scholars alike, because they allude to a common bond between all cultures. Through folklore and mythology, all of humankind throughout civilization may have shared a common view of the world, or way of explaining it since the dawn of communication through spoken word.
From a host of literary elements, one that seems to be outwardly the most universal is the character of the hero. The “hero” character is an archetype of sorts: a character template that can be filled in with any combination of traits: physical or personal, concrete or ethereal, and then written into a story. Gods, common men, animals, all can play the character of the hero; moreover, the hero does not necessarily have to conquer or fall, achieve or fail, to be a hero. In fact, it would seem that often times the hero isn’t necessarily anybody special, it could just be the person that the reader (or listener or viewer) is meant to root for. One example of a very likeable and popular character archetype (of a far more specific nature) hails from the islands of Japan, and shall be the center of this papers discussion henceforth. From Japanese mythology, folklore and even now in Japanese anime, comics and video games comes the character archetype called the “loser-hero”. The “loser-hero” is a poignant and very popular character in Japanese lore and mythology, and the story of Yamato Takeru is the quintessential tale of the loser hero. The story of Yamato Takeru paints the portrait of the loser-hero, which while distinctly Japanese, appears in literature of other cultures throughout time as well.
This concept of the “loser-hero” is not far removed from the much more familiar and more Elizabethan “tragic hero”, and only slightly farther removed from the Greco-Roman “epic hero”. But before illuminating upon the concept of the tragic hero and the loser hero, it is necessary to define these concepts. The blind poet Homer’s idea of the hero, or rather his attitude toward heroism, lent itself to meaning a figure worshipped amongst hero cults (Schein 68). Perhaps a workable definition in some instances, this definition is a bit too restrictive for use here. In etymology, the word ‘hero’ may be etymologically related to the word hore, which means “season” (68), this in Homeric and Elizabethan literature is fitting because the hero is indeed “seasonal”. In this respect, the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth are considered as the “seasons” of the hero. This definition of the English word for hero seems to fit remarkably well too when brought into a more Japanese light, as the hero’s life was often temporary (especially the loser hero’s) and transitory. Furthermore, the very nature of the warrior lifestyle, the lifestyle of the Samurai, was seasonal in nature as well: fighting when called upon (or when paid) and falling into a hiatus in between. In the stories and literature, however, the hero is often a powerful figure, physically, politically, magically or mentally. The hero often leads scores of men, overcomes great odds, and many times is constantly called upon - whether by others or simply by circumstance – to continue to perform heroic actions.
Character archetypes of the loser hero and tragic hero also have a few more requisite attributes. These archetypal characters often are ill-appreciated in life, especially by the ones from whom they seek appreciation the most. The hero will often have a fatal flaw, weakness, or lack of foresight which will be obvious to all (including the reader) except for the hero themselves, and in the end this flaw will often lead to their undoing- generally a very tragic and poignant undoing at that. Loser heroes and tragic heroes often strive tirelessly for a goal which, in the end, is sadly never met or achieved; and, will often tenaciously, foolishly sometimes wildly sacrifice nearly all to reach these goals, making their ultimate failure all the more heartbreaking and touching. Many of these hero characters are feared, by one or many, either for good reason or none at all, and are plotted against because of the paranoia of other characters. In the end, the tragic or loser hero, having striven and sacrificed, often dies a poignant, lonely death as a failure without being accorded due recognition or reward, and are only appreciated or mourned after their passing (Sato 4).
For the average westerner (without any introspection) the obsession with, and enjoyment gleaned from stories of the tragic and loser hero seems not only foreign but strange and incomprehensible. But Americans have had an appreciation for these character archetypes all along without even being cognizant of it. Characters like Jesse James, Custer and Robert E. Lee were all tragic, sometimes heroic, but colossal failures. These characters are real (although stories of their escapades are not always completely realistic), and are rooted deeply within our own short history. In fact, according to Sato, part of the nation’s fascination with The South is that it was the “… [loser] in a war that nearly tore the nation apart…” (4). Yamato Takeru’s story is no different to Japan than those stories are to Americans. The story of Takeru has basis in real history, just as it has basis in pure mythology. As a matter of fact, Yamato Takeru’s tale appears in the two earliest official histories of Japan: the Kojiki and the Nihon-Shoki (3).
Part of the Japanese fascination with the character of the loser hero stems from the deeply rooted Japanese fascination with mono no aware, which difficult to translate directly, means a feeling of transiency, deep sadness, appreciation, emptiness - yet profound feeling. In order to translate this into a more western-friendly literary idea, we look to tragedy. Much of Shakespearean literature, and much other literature as well, is tragedy, and an appreciation for tragedy is very much like an appreciation for mono no aware and the loser hero.
To begin, Allen tells us that all tragedy can be boiled down into two types: melodramatic and moral (341). In melodramatic tragedy, the hero or protagonist falls victim to forces beyond his control. While in moral tragedy, the hero takes or shares responsibility for a tragic situation. The story of the Takeru is a melodramatic tragedy, because the hero falls victim to forces from within and without his own character which are beyond his control. Yamato Takeru begins as a victim of his own violent and impetuous nature, and nature is nothing that any character can control. His nature causes him to make misjudgments regularly (constantly killing, disrespecting deities, and living a violent life) and to fail to see his father’s true will. Takeru is also a victim of his father’s uncontrollable fear of his own son. This fear causes his father to plot against him constantly in an attempt to fool him into marching away into his own suicide. He is also victimized by other characters in the story who tell him of the next strongest warrior that he should go and challenge, fooling him again into marching into the maw of uncertain destruction. Finally, the hero is destroyed by the angry deity of the mountain, who curses his health and deteriorates his strength.
Tragedy also expresses an alienation of a sort that only develops in certain situations which strike those experiencing it as tragic (Allen 400). From the very beginning, Yamato Takeru is completely alienated, due to his own tragic killer nature. First from his father, who fears him so much as to try to destroy him, then from the whole world of characters in the story (mostly only because he tries to kill all of them – deities included - except for a few choice women).
As for the tragic individual, is actions are often governed by forces outside of his power, according to Allen (400). What’s more, the tragic individual is completely ignorant of these forces and their origins and consequences, and has neither secure sense of his relation to others nor any control over his actions (401). Yamato Takeru himself is unsure of how he figures into the grand picture and spends most of his time striving for his father, the emperor’s love, only to realize that he may never get it, saying:
“His Majesty must wish I were dead. Otherwise, why should he send me away, without many soldiers, to subdue the evil people of the twelve countries to the east, when not much time has passed since I returned from the mission to strike down the evil people to the west?” (Sato 6)
Additionally, Takeru seems to have little control over his own actions: being ordered about the country on death missions by his father, he is also a victim of his own violent and impetuous nature.
In much tragedy, the protagonist is often single minded and the action of the story unfolds with unique inevitability (Allen 349). This adds to the tragic feeling of the story because the reader can see the heroes’ poor choices and their destructive consequences before the hero can suffer from them. Yamato Takeru seemingly thinks of nothing but fighting and killing to impress his father and to further his own bloodthirst and thirst for renown, and after every successive venture, the reader can almost see the next deadly mission coming up, knowing all the time about his father’s cruel wishes.
It is in many ways that the story of Yamato Takeru fits nicely into the tragic mold, but what about the hero himself? What of other heroes like him? As would happen, much of the attributes which make Yamato Takeru who he is, fit into the character archetypes of what makes other characters who they are. In the story, Yamato, having “squashed” his own brother to death and “tearing” off his limbs, his father has become “terrified of his own son’s brave, young, mind”, and so it is that Takeru becomes feared for his own bravery and wildness (Sato 5). Heroes such as Achilles, of the Illiad, have also been feared like this. Achilles, apparently unbeatable, was prone to fits of violence and often turned it on his own men, in one instance sending wave after wave of his own men to death simply to prove a point. Similarly, the European characters Batraz and Lancelot were also known for their violent behavior. These characters were ferocious fighters, but would often turn violent on their own comrades, Lancelot having been said to have “constantly attacked other Round Table nights” (Littleton 266).
While wild, violent, and impetuous, Takeru was also prone to fits of insurmountable cleverness. Using more than brute strength, Takeru overcomes many grand obstacles by simply being quick to act. Dressing as a girl in waiting, he manages to get in close to the Kumaso braves in order to defeat them (Sato 5). In his battle with the Izumo brave, he befriends him, bringing a sword made out of pure wood, and then trading it to him; he challenges the brave who tries to draw his sword, only to find it is made of one piece. Yamato quickly cleaves his head in two and is on his way (5). Later, in the fire trap of the Governor of Sagamo country, he lights a counter-blaze to escape death by incineration and defeats the governor by sword (5).
Tragic and loser heroes both rest very little, as characters go, and in this respect, these character archetypes even parallel that of the Homeric “epic hero” as well. In general, these archetypal heroes tend to be at constant war, sometimes with themselves, but most often with other forces. In the story of the Takeru, the hero not only constantly wars with his own nature, he must also fight countless death-matches between himself and other humans, himself and deities, and himself and circumstance. This is not unlike the character Achilles, who is a warrior by trade, and even the Odyssey’s Odyssius, who simply in the interest of getting home must fight constantly and never seems to make even an inch of progress at every turn. Similarly, all of these heroic archetypes fight impossible odds and even in the face of such odds manage impossible undertakings. Achilles brings an empires king to his knees in war, Odyssius survives onslaught after onslaught by giant Cyclopes’, sea creatures, gods, deities and spells. Like them, Yamato Takeru takes on the entire country, bringing them to the mercy of the emperor while simultaneously “quell[ing]… …all manner of deities of the mountains and rivers” (Sato 7). Part of the reason for these undertakings is necessity, because tragically enough, these heroic characters all earn the wrath of the gods and deities and must consequently deal with them as well as the rest of the physical world.
Perhaps the most defining and important characteristic of the tragic – or loser hero, is the actual tragic part. The end of the loser hero is poignant, anticlimactic and often ironic. Loser heroes must die not in the throes of battle, but in some ridiculously simple, almost insulting way, this is what makes them the “loser” or their story “tragic”. The hero does not complete his task or goal and dies often alone. Achilles, not beaten by a great warrior, or a throng of warriors, is shot through the heel by the arrow of Patrocles, a coward and “lesser man”, having failed to complete his goal (in an older version, Achilles is stabbed in the back while visiting a woman, also tragic). Yamato Takeru, having gained the disfavor of the deity of Mount Ibuki, is cursed in health by the deity and dies lonely and sick on the open plain -- felled by a curse, not by a sword (Sato 9).
Some would assert that Yamato Takeru is not only similar to another hero, or a group of archetypal heroes, but is in point of fact, a Japanese version of a very ancient legend that spawned European versions which became the story of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table (Littleton 260). Upon inspection side by side, the two stories have remarkable, almost haunting similarities. To begin with, both Arthur and Yamato Takeru held a “magical weapon”, Arthur’s Excalibur was to him what The Grass Laying Sword (Kusanagi) was to Takeru, and both of these swords were in some way “bestowed” upon them (261). In actuality, both heroes had two swords of magical renown, Arthur had his 1st and 2nd Excalibur, and Takeru had his small sword (used to kill the Kumaso brothers) and Kusanagi (262). The first swords, served as rites of passage for both warriors, proving their salt as leaders and as warriors. Arthur pulls his from a stone and becomes king, and Takeru killes his first warrior braves with his and becomes a warrior himself. Both heroes received their second (and most powerful) swords from a woman with supernatural powers, Arthurs being the “Lady of the Lake” and Takeru’s being Princess Yamato, and after receiving said swords, both men become leaders of war bands, going forth to defeat more numerous enemies (262). In the end, both of these heroes only succumb in course of conflict after giving their swords up to a female figure, only dying upon rediscovering their relinquished sword later (262). Their more powerful “second swords” are given up, secreted to a spot which will become the site of their impending death - near the shore of a sea or lake - and the rediscovery of which brings fourth their death (262).
Though arcane as these stories are, Americans, in their fast-paced world of immediate payoffs and constant motion, still have appreciation for these heroes whether they know it or not. Take the story of Tombstone, a 1990’s western with modern faces and effects. Doc Holiday, the lovable troublemaking gunfighter with a wry humor and a drinking problem is a loser hero in every sense. He is a loner, violent, transient and friendless, but an ingénue and fights in the end for friendship and the law. No gun in the west can manage to put him down, in the end, he dies lonely, sad and sick in a sanitarium from Tuberculosis. Or take for instance the Star Wars character, Darth Vader. Vader is a loveable young boy, a strong and promising young man, and in the end is destroyed by his relentless love for his wife, and a thirst for power. Vader dies only after failing as a father, a Jedi, and a Sith and redeeming himself by saving his son, Vader dies not from battle, but from suffocation after removing his breathing apparatus. Star Wars has grossed 6.6 billion USD. In the movie Gladiator, the character Maximus is nothing but a loyal warrior to the king and the country, and is betrayed, his family murdered, his estate burned, and dies tragically after failing to save his family, his men and his friend.
Upon simple experience (reading, watching, listening,) these stories, characters – heroes - seem unrelated and are simply “tall tales”. However, only a little introspection is needed to bring forth all of their burgeoning similarities beneath the surface. These similarities in structure, feeling and archetype are all paramount to our understanding of the stories and how they relate to each other, and how they draw up a picture of the human condition. Naturally, these stories were created by someone, and “not just for fun”, someone sometime was trying to communicate a feeling, or a belief. Through further understanding of these stories, and how they relate, an appreciation for other cultures and how they relate to each other and to us comes easy. Yamato Takeru is not simply an isolated hero, in an isolated story from an isolated island; he is a picture of an archetype that has been a popular representative of the human condition for centuries.
Works Cited
Allen, Richard O. Hysteria and Heroism: Tragic Dissociation and the Two Tragedies. College English, Vol. 32, No. 4. Jan 1971, pp. 399-417
Buchan, Marc. The Limits of Heroism: Homer and the Ethics of Reading. University of Michigan press. MI. (Var. Pag.)
Littleton, Scott C. Yamato Takeru: An “Arthurian” Hero in Japanese Tradition, Asian Folklore Studies, Vol. 54, No. 2. (1995) pp 259-274
Miner, Earl. Ed. Principles of Classical Japanese Literature. Princeton University Press. NJ. 1985. (Var pag.)
Sato, Hiroaki. Legends of the Samurai. 1995, Overlook press. New York. pp 4-12
Spiderman 2. Dir. Sam Raimi. Perf. Tobey Maguire, Kirsten Dunst, James Franco, Alfred Molina. 2004. DVD. 2005
Bibliography
Allen, Richard O. Hysteria and Heroism: Tragic Dissociation and the Two Tragedies. College English, Vol. 32, No. 4. Jan 1971.
Bespaloff, Rachel. On the Iliad. Princeton University Press. NJ. 1947
Buchan, Marc. The Limits of Heroism: Homer and the Ethics of Reading. University of Michigan press. MI. 2004
Gladiator. Dir. Ridley Scott. Perf. Russell Crowe, Joaquin Phoenix, Connie Nielsen, Oliver Reed. 2000. DVD 2001.
Junichi, Isomae, Myth in Metamorphosis: Ancient and Medieval Versions of the Tamatotakeru Legend. Monumenta Nipponicca. Vol. 54, No. 3, Autumn 1999.
Kramer, Samuel Noah. Mythologies of the Ancient World. Chicago: Quadrangle Books, 1961.
Littleton, Scott C. Yamato Takeru: An “Arthurian” Hero in Japanese Tradition, Asian Folklore Studies, Vol. 54, No. 2. (1995).
Miner, Earl. Ed. Principles of Classical Japanese Literature. Princeton University Press. NJ. 1985.
Miner, Odagiri, Morrell. The Princeton Companion to Classical Japanese Literature. Princeton University Press. Guildford, Surrey. 1995
Rouse, W.H.D. The Story of Odysseus. Modern Age Books, NY. 1937
Sato, Hiroaki. Legends of the Samurai. Overlook press. New York. 1995
Scheim, Seth L. The Mortal Hero. University of California Press. Berkely and Los Angeles, CA. 1984.
Schucking, Levin Ludwig. The Baroque Character of the Elizabethan Tragic Hero. Annual Shakespeare Lecture. Read 27 April 1938
Spiderman 2. Dir. Sam Raimi. Perf. Tobey Maguire, Kirsten Dunst, James Franco, Alfred Molina. 2004. DVD. 2005
Star Wars. Dir. Geroge Lucas. Per. Mark Hamill, Harrison Ford, Carrie Fischer, and Alec Guiness. 1977. Videocassette. Fox, 1992.
Tombstone. Dir. Geroge P. Cosmatos. Perf. Kurt Russel, Val Kilmer, Sam Elliott, Bill Paxton. 1993. DVD 1999.
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