I Am Bismark

this is my zuihitsu responding to tamenaga shunsui’s spring-color plum calendar (shunshoku umegoyomi, 春色梅児誉美). it was written as an assignment for my early-modern japanese literature course at brigham young university.

Like my literature class discussed, the modern, Western equivalent of this story is a chick flick, and honestly while I was reading it, I reacted about the same way. I think the following section just put the entire thing over the top:

“I know a young woman who’s ten times prettier and more irresistible than Yonehachi.” “Oh really? Where is she?” “Hey, she’s right here,” Tanjirō said, putting his arm around Ochō and holding her tightly as they walked.

I was alone in my room at the time, but I audibly said, “Oh please,” when I read this. The more I read, the more I thought to myself, “Gosh, this Tanjirō guy is a total pansy.” I have no idea how many times I rolled my eyes during this story. But like we have been taught to do, I want to look a little deeper at my reaction to this story.

In hindsight, I’ve said pretty much that exact same line to a girl, admittedly on multiple occasions. At the time I didn’t say, “Oh please,” because, well, it worked. Now, I could go off on how easy it is to win over some girls with such cheesy lines, but I think it’s more interesting to look at my willingness and desire to do deliver those lines. I’m certain I would be rolling my eyes if I ever read a book about all the stupid, cheesy things I’ve said to and done for girls. Did I do those things just because it worked or am I sincerely a “sensitive” guy? Tanjirō used these tactics multiple times, with two different women! Yet the narrator continually reassures the reader that “his love for [female character’s name here] is as true as [female character’s name here] is for him.” Obviously since he is just a made up character targeted at a female audience, Tanjirō is completely sincere in the story (though to us modern Western readers, he seems like a “player”). The fact that I thought Tanjirō was cheesy and a wimp despite me having acted in similar ways (albeit with questionable sincerity) brings up the interesting question of why I had such a reaction. Was it because Tanjirō was portrayed as being genuinely sincere in his actions and I, as a realistic Western male, knows that no guy is in reality that way? Don’t all Western males complain to each other about having to figure out what to do after procrastinating buying their significant other something for Valentine’s Days? On the other hand, I wonder if this is just a perception that Western males feel compelled to hold by society. Did I just think Tanjirō was a wimp because that’s what our culture tells me I should do, despite the similarities that I grudgingly admit exist between us?

We talked in class about amae and how modern Japanese and American men show the tendency to be more spoiled and dependent on strong female figures. This dependency and need for care is exactly what made Tanjirō so attractive to the characters and the readers. So is this tendency proof of a weakening of men in society, or is it men again conforming to the desires of women just so they can get the girl(s)? As an American guy, I think there are forces pulling from both directions: girls say they want a tough man who can protect them, but they also want him to buy flowers and write love poems. Strangely (in Western readers minds), the women characters in the story saw Tanjirō as both. Tanjirō was completely dependent on these women, yet when Ochō was in trouble, she went running to his arms for safety. I think this is probably the most confusing part of the story for me as a Western male.

During my occasional bitterness over failed relationships, I’ve jokingly subscribed to the Ladder Theory. Basically it says women separate men into two different categories: friends and romantic interests. The theory claims that the intellectual, intelligent, sensitive men are relegated to the friends category and are consigned to being a shoulder to cry on as their women friends complain about the jerk guys they are dating. Tanjirō blows this theory out of the water, at least in regards to Edo period Japanese women and I think if there had only been one woman in his life, the girls in our class would have liked Tanjirō quite a bit more. So my last question is, as a single guy, feeling a bit concerned as I quickly enter the realm of older single Mormons, do I take cues from Tanjirō? The continued popularity of the sensitive male role in chick flicks today seems to indicate yes. I confess a number of times I’ve wished for the awkward, British charm of Hugh Grant in Notting Hill (I mean, it got him Julia Roberts so it must be good, right?). On the other hand we talk about amae being a bad thing for society and men. My grandpa pokes fun at me for not being “manly” enough to keep a girlfriend. I can only conclude that it’s complicated being a guy. To me, Tanjirō exemplifies the contradictions within the expectations for men in our society.

In the end, I’m glad to know that even in a different time and place, it’s a complicated issue. This story was targeted at women and it probably made Edo period men roll their eyes too. If I’ve learned anything from my studying, despite how different early modern Japanese society is in comparison today, the similarities and parallels are all hiding just barely under the surface.