Tuesday, February 25, 2014

TSUGUMI AND THE UGLY FEMALE

Tsugumi, in Tsugumi (1989), is a quintessential shojo manga character in that she reflects the ‘petty individualism’ that Kinsella (2000) argues critics have associated with the shojo manga genre. Tsugumi is characterised as being obnoxious to all of the people around her. These include her sister, Yoko, her cousin, Maria, and her mother and father. Maria, the narrator, writes that:

“If I had to make a list of the Top Three Victims of Tsugumi’s Outrageously Nasty Disposition, the order would undoubtedly be: Aunt Masako, then Yoko, then me. Uncle Tadashi kept his distance” (Goodbye Tsugumi, 1989a, English translation 2002, 4).
In her selfishness Tsugumi recalls the Yukino character in Yoshimoto’s earlier novel Kanashii Yokan (A Sad Premonition) (1988d).  This type of character is not entirely new in Japanese writing, however. In the 1939 short story ‘The Schoolgirl’ (In Run Melos and Other Stories) by Dazai Osamu, the narrator wakes up and says ‘I’m at my ugliest in the morning’ (44). She speculates later about a female Christ and thinks, ‘How repulsive’ (51). Later, after being ‘nauseated’ by a pregnant woman wearing makeup on the train she says:

“Women are so disgusting. Being one myself, I know all too well what filthy things women are, and I hate it so much it makes me grind my teeth. The unbearable smell you get from handling goldfish – it’s as if that smell covers your entire body, and no matter how much you wash and scrub, it won’t come off. And when I think that I’ve got to go through every day of my life emitting that smell, that female smell, there’s something else that pops into my mind and makes me think I’d just rather die now, as I am, still a young girl” (Run Melos and other Stories, 1988, 70).
This misogynistic depiction of women brings to mind the Meiji period writer Kunikida Doppo who suggested that women were “monkeys mimicking humanity.” Tsugumi is obnoxious but Yoshimoto is careful to place this in context. She is associated with the fantasy women characters in Yoshimoto’s writing like Urara in Moonlight Shadow (1988a). Tsugumi is described as being an ‘unpleasant woman’ (1) and ‘like the devil’ (3). Her room is described as being like a scene from The Exorcist (5). As a result of illness, she has been treated kindly since birth and people are afraid for her health. Tsugumi is described as ‘growing into her badness’ in this environment (4). In terms of the novel’s construction, Tsugumi’s character represents rebellion as opposed to her cousin Maria who represents conformity.

Furuhashi Nobuyoshi argues that this split between narrator and main character is necessary because Tsugumi is such a ‘selfish’ character (1990, 103). Furuhashi argues that by having Maria narrate Tsugumi’s story, Yoshimoto demonstrates that even a ‘selfish’ character such as Tsugumi may be understood (106). And this is a very different emphasis from that of Doppo or Dazai. However, Tsugumi is not just ‘understood’ by Maria, she also inspires Maria, who comes to see the suffering that Tsugumi masks through anti-social behaviour. They enjoy a symbiotic relationship in which each needs the other. Tsugumi needs someone to tell her story and Maria learns to be strong from Tsugumi. This is the enclosed world of the shojo. It is a world of intense feeling in which Maria says of the days spent on the island with Tsugumi ‘… those days were blessed’ (161). The enclosed shojo world cannot last forever, however.
Earlier in Tsugumi (1989) when the girls’ favourite series came to an end on TV, Maria says:

“That night, having wriggled down into my futon all alone, I found myself in the grips of a wrenching sadness. I was only a child, but I knew the feeling that came when you parted with something, and I felt that pain” (Goodbye Tsugumi, 1989a, English translation 2002, 67).
Tsugumi describes a group of ‘four women enjoying each other’s company’ (27). As such, it is also a forerunner to the ‘women’s paradise’ in Amrita (1994). But Yoshimoto does not just describe the vulnerability of this world and suggests that there is more to the world of the shojo, as Aoyama (2004) argues, than passivity and frivolity. Rather than witnessing the decline of Tsugumi’s health, the reader is shown Tsugumi learning to take responsibility for others. Thus, when the dog, Gongoro, is kidnapped, Maria says, ‘It was the first time in her life Tsugumi had gotten angry on someone’s behalf. Something about her seemed sacred to me then’ (Tsugumi, 1989, English translation 2002, 137). When Gongoro disappears again, Tsugumi digs a deep hole at the back of a neighbouring house. Yoko, Tsugumi’s sister, discovers the hole and rescues one of Gongoro’s youthful kidnappers trapped inside. When she tells Maria this story, Yoko describes it as a ‘genuine adventure’ (151). Maria reminisces and says, ‘She hadn’t changed a bit since she was a girl. All along she had been living in a universe of thought that was all her own, shared with no one else’ (156). There is a sense of purity about Tsugumi’s single-mindedness. This event becomes part of their shojo folklore, all the more precious because of Tsugumi’s illness.

Treat describes Tsugumi as the ‘perfect shojo who will never grow up’ (1996, 295). For Tsugumi, there is ‘never anything but “today”’ (295). He argues that in Tsugumi, ‘Yoshimoto Banana generates a youth (seishun) that could be anywhere, at any time, as an act of homage to a present that does not necessarily have to be “now” or “here” (296). He is critical of Yoshimoto on the basis that her ‘contemporary nostalgia lacks any determined past to validate it’ (296) and points to how Yoshimoto portrays herself as the perfect shojo in the postscript identifying herself with Tsugumi rather than the successful author she has become as an adult (297). Treat asks ‘why childhood and adolescence should be so idealised as a lost object at the expense of a future adulthood?’ (1996, 297) and suggests that characters like Maria are narcissistic and reluctant to let go of their adolescent selves. This could be true, but Maria is also vulnerable because of her parent’s relationship. Even though Maria is hurt by Tsugumi’s anti-social behaviour, she can see through it and forms a strong friendship with Tsugumi. Tsugumi is to be admired, not pitied. Tsugumi might be an 'ugly female' character but she is no longer to be judged by the standards of the past.

Monday, February 24, 2014

THE EQUIVOCAL DAZAI OSAMU: 'ONE HUNDRED VIEWS OF FUJI' AND 'SCHOOLGIRL'

Dazai Osamu wrote The Setting Sun (1947) which defined a generation in post-war Japan in the same way that Sartre defined the new reality and mind-set of post-war France. This was a period in which there was almost no sense of continuity between one generation and the next. The void was filled by a profound sense of nihilism which was most clearly expressed by Dazai.
 
In the short story 'One Hundred Views of Mt Fuji' written in 1939 before the war Dazai was already prepared to cast a disparaging eye on his surroundings, in this case Mt Fuji, the most celebrated mountain in Japan. Deciding to visit his mentor Mr Ibuse at Tenka Chaya (tea-house) at Misaka Pass Dazai observes that the mountain is nothing like the famous paintings by the likes of Hiroshige and Hokusai instead the angle of the mountain is such that it is "almost pathetic as far as mountains go." His trip to the mountain is just as disappointing given that it involves a "bone-shaking, hour-long ride." All is not a total loss, however, and on a trip to his mentor's friend's house he sees a photograph of the mountain's  crater covered in snow like "a pure white waterlily." Glancing at the young woman his mentor has recommended for marriage he is inspired to  marry her. "That" he says, "was a Fuji I was grateful for." Later, when there is a snow fall at Misaka Pass, the narrator is called outside to admire the mountain. Observing the summit he notes that it is "pure and radiant and white." He is moved to exclaim "Not even the Fuji from Misaka Pass is to be scoffed at." Nothing in this world of fleeting sensations is unsullied for long, however, and when a group of prostitutes visit the tea-house the narrator is momentarily pained by his inability to change the world He then looks at Mt Fuji "looking for all the world like the Big Boss, squared off in an arrogant pose" and is relieved of his sense of responsibility.
 
The final insult arrives in the form of a bride who stops her car in order to spend some time outside the tea-house contemplating the mountain before her wedding. This was a scene that the narrator decides is "titillatingly romantic" until the bride does something unforgivable and gives a "great yawn." The mood is ruined and the young female servant at the tea-house condemns her as a "hussy". This embarrasses the narrator as his own plans for marriage are now well advanced and he has overcome the lack of financial support that his family is willing to provide. In the penultimate moment in the story two secretaries ask him to take a photograph of them with Mt Fuji in the background. He imagines their surprise when they develop the film and find he has photographed the mountain in such a way that they are not included in the picture. In this way he pays homage to the mountain saying "Goodbye Mt Fuji. Thanks for everything." The sceptical Dazai has to some extent fallen unwillingly under the spell of the mountain.

This sense of equivocation can also be seen in the short story 'Schoolgirl' when the narrator tells the reader that she occasionally pulls a few weeds near the front gate in order to do her "labor service" for mother. She wonders why, "there are some weeds you want to pull out and some you want to leave alone. They're all weeds, they all look exactly the same, so why are they all so different? Weeds that strike you a s darling and weeds that don't; lovely weeds and hateful weeds - why are they so clearly divided? There's no logic to it, of course. A woman's likes and dislikes are just so random and haphazard." Racked by self-doubt and loathing the narrator gives Dazai the opportunity here to explore some of his more misogynistic thoughts.