Truth in the eye of beholders
Book
Japanese Title: 羅生門 Rashōmon
Movie
Based on: In a Grove (藪の中, Yabu no Naka) by Akutagawa Ryūnosuke
Length: 1h 28min
Adapted: 1950
Genre: Crime, Drama, Mystery
Akutagawa’s first publication of In a Grove (藪の中, Yabu no Naka) in 1922 created a breaking wave, sweeping the literary community completely off their feet. An idiom inspired by the name of the story had even been integrated into the Japanese day-to-day conversation. The idiom 藪の中 (Yabu no Naka) refers to an incident where no conclusion can be given due to the lack of evidence or inconsistencies in the testimony of those who are involved. Ergo, it is quite obvious what the movie and its inspiration are about.
The story revolved around the conflicting testimonies of the bandit Tajōmaru, the wife Masago, the victim himself Takehiro, and four others who accidentally got caught up in the situation.
In the book, the story began with the accounts of all by-passers: the woodcutter, the priest, the hōmen (放免, a released prisoner working under contract to the police), and Masago’s mother. Chronologically, the priest came across Takehiro, accompanied by his wife Masago on horseback, a day before the murder. Takehiro carried with him a sword, a bow, and a black quiver. Fast forward in time, the woodcutter discovered Takehiro’s body with a single sword stroke to the chest in the wood. There was evidence of a violent struggle where Takehiro was found but his weapons, horse, and wife were lost. Later on, the hōmen was able to retrieve some of the missing items and horse from an infamous bandit named Tajōmaru, who could not tame the animal and was brutally thrown down. As for Takehiro’s wife, from the testimony of the old woman who claimed to be her mother, we know that the beautiful, headstrong and chaste Masago went missing ever since.
As the setting completed, the story continued to unfold what truly happened from the couple’s chance encounter with Tajōmaru to the aftermath. The three following testimonies all agreed on the lead-up. Upon seeing Masago for the first time, Tajōmaru was tempted by her beauty and decided that he must have her. To conduct his plan, he separated the couple by luring Takehiro into the woods with the promise of buried treasure. He then entrapped Takehiro and went fetch Masago. As Masago saw her husband tied up, she pulled out a dagger and threatened Tajōmaru, which only further provoked him. Tajōmaru quickly reigned over Masago and had his way with her.
One unfortunate event led up to another. The story finally culminated in the death of Takehiro. Nevertheless, from the sexual assault onward, the story split up. The three of them including Takehiro himself claimed that the murder was their own doing. Tajōmaru stated that he killed Takehiro during a fierce sword fight as Masago had begged him so. On the other hand, Masago avowed that she was the one who stabbed her husband out of agony because of the contempt in his eyes for her. Whereas, Takehiro, through the voice of a medium, solemnly declared that death was his only way out and he had finished himself with the dagger his wife left behind.
When reading crime fiction, we tend to focus on “the discovery”. We follow the narrator to uncover new pieces of information or hidden evidence, which we believe is the key point. With that in mind, we rarely question what we had been told. We believe in and even develop a rapport with the “first-person”, whose point of view we see the world through. But our most solid belief can turn out to be the most vulnerable thing.
I especially enjoy crime novels and movies with such unreliable narrators: The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Dame Agatha Christie, The Invisible Guest directed by Oriol Paulo, both book and movie adaptation of The Shutter Island, the anime Blood-C, to name but a few. The authors’ manipulation of our trust and the omnipresence of the “first-person” compels us to accept everything that was told, overlooking details that tell otherwise. It was only when we discovered the actual truth that we realized how all the evidence falls in line, even how cunning and psychotic our beloved narrator can be.
In a Grove, however, has a very different basis from these examples: The story was told as an anecdote. Its focus was not the actual criminal(s) but the fact that the truth can be manipulated. Such a simple fact but coated in the most clever and compelling way. What’s more mind-blowing is that the story appeared nearly a decade ago from today, yet its twist and turn still left readers of all ages in awe. For that, it is understandable why Akutagawa was considered one of the most important pillars of Japanese literature.
Kurosawa’s adaptation, on the other hand, indicates not the brilliancy to come up with such a plot but to fulfill the story and accentuate the meaning behind it. By using the setting of another work — Rashōmon, Kurosawa created a different variation which at first thought might be considered as “a square peg in a round hole”, but in fact bring out the eerie and supernatural quality hidden in the original.
Among Japanese literary giants, works produced by Akutagawa possess a certain grotesque peculiarity that highly reminisces those of Western Gothic authors, notably Edgar Allan Poe. The literary style and theory of Poe’s short stories were introduced to Japan by Akutagawa, with great effort and enthusiasm. There were close parallels between their works, but as Akutagawa’s career progressed, he detached himself from the influence of Poe. The Japanese writer still heavily based his themes, settings, and details upon his Oriental root so as to stayed connected to the readers. Although In a Grove is one of his most noticeable works, the setting does not signify its Japanese background. In other words, the story can be of any origin, not necessarily Japan. Rashōmon on the other hand has more distinguishable, historical, and cultural overtones.
The Rashōmon was a series of twin gates built during the Heian period, one stood to the south of Heijō Palace in Nara and the other one — the inspiration of our two great artists was located in Kyoto. Their original names were Rajōmon 羅城門 (meaning outer castle gate), but for pun intended, Nobumitsu Kanze used the kanji 生 shō “life” instead of the 城 jō “castle” for the title of his famous Noh play. Decades later, thanks to the popularity of Akutagawa’s publication, the southern gate of Heian-kyō has been referred to as Rashōmon 羅生門 ever since.
In the matter of history, the Heian period (平安時代, Heian jidai) was regarded as the time when Buddhism, Taoism, and other Chinese influences exerted their greatest effect on Japanese culture, especially in term of arts and aesthetics. For instance, the city that Rashōmon protected was modeled after the Tang dynasty Chinese capital of Chang’an.
Despite being the official capital, Kyoto was losing its significance to Edo as the seat of Imperial power moved there. Slowly but surely, Rashōmon became a hideout for thieves and outcasts. This dilapidated gate was where the short story took place: In the time of depression, a recently fired servant had taken shelter under the mysterious Rashōmon, where only abandoned corpses stayed. Before making up his mind on whether to starve or to become a thief, he went upstairs to discover a horrid old crone plugging every strand of hair from dead bodies. Deeply disgusted by the sight, he decided upon the path of righteousness, which was starving to death rather than committing any misdeeds. Then he stealthily approached the woman and interrogated her, to which she replied that she was only making wigs in order to survive. Wrongdoings are not wrong as long as they keep her well-fed, she remarked. Then without much hesitation, the man quickly robbed the old crone of her robe. As he ran away, he said to the stark naked woman: “You won’t blame me, then, for taking your clothes. That’s what I must do to keep from starving to death.”
The ruined Rashōmon is a symbol representing “the moral and physical decay of Japanese civilization and culture.” There is a thin line between good and evil. In the face of destitute, one can cross that line in a blink of an eye. It is an innate survival instinct that keeps humans exist and thrive. It is an absolute yet unwelcoming truth.
Rashōmon is certainly fascinating to read. Nonetheless, the story is of a whimsical manner, too lighthearted for its serious and dire implication. The fusion of In a Grove’s content and Rashōmon’s ambiance thus brings out the best in both stories. The wretched, unsavory place that a prosperous city once stood provides a perfect setting for a story that reveals the morbid nature of mankind.
In addition to this change, Kurosawa-san also highlighted the role of seemingly minor characters: the woodcutter being an unbiased witness, the commoner as a callous outsider, and the priest as a representative of the good whose faith in humanity has crumbled by the lies and deceptions. All three of them were onlookers of the incident. They startled, judged, and questioned as the recount proceed. To them, the dishonest and self-serving accounts of the three suspects were something beyond their comprehension, belonging to a distant, more vicious world. Yet, upon finishing the movie, I started to question the decency of the woodcutter, the indifference of the commoner, as well as the ignorance of evil that the priest had lived in. Could it have been an act they simply put up in order to protect their true nature?
Despite the rays of hope in those final scenes, Kurosawa’s adaptation still remained faithful to Akutagawa’s original focus: not to answer but to pose more questions. Who was the killer? What happened to the missing arrows that Takehiro had carried around? Whose comb was it that lay next to Takehiro’s corpse? Was the spirit medium to be trusted? etc. So many possibilities to agree upon. Even so, there is one simple yet vital inference we can all recognize: the truth remains a product of our own imagination.
Reference:
In a Grove. (n.d.). In Wikipedia. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/In_a_Grove
Heian-kyō. (n.d.). In Wikipedia. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heian-ky%C5%8D
Morimoto, L. (2017). The Works of Akutagawa Ryunosuke: Lectures on Poe and Their Applications (MA thesis, The Ohio State University, Ohio, USA). Retrieved from http://dx.doi.org/10.17613/M6DM36
Rashomon. (n.d.). In Wikipedia. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rashomon
Rashomon. (n.d.). In Wikipedia. Retrieved from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rash%C5%8Dmon_(short_story)
