The second half of this reading delivered: more animal stories and characters. However, the human characters were a little different than the virtuous human characters in the first half of the reading.
The tale of Uraschimataro and the Turtle was the biggest outlier in both days' readings. The main character witnesses his share of magic, marries the Sea Princess, and very nearly ends his own story in total happiness. The problem begins when he returns to his home and sees that his parents are dead. This grief causes him to second-guess his wife's instructions to refrain from opening the golden box she gave him. When he opens it, his age catches up with him and he withers and dies within what seem to be hours. What's the purpose of this? Is there an obscure lesson to be learned here? Obey your spouse? It comes off as if the Sea Princess is testing Uraschimataro by giving him the box in the first place. Or maybe it's just a fairy story.
The merchant in The Magic Kettle wasn't conventionally good or bad--the story simply called on him to be humble and share his wealth with the farmer from whom he bought the kettle. It's a simple story. Beyond that lesson, the story also serves to introduce the tanuki. In The Magic Kettle, the tanuki isn't wicked yet. Maybe it's a different tanuki than the one in the next two stories, who killed his own wife out of greed and neglects his child. In another story, the tanuki kills, cooks, and serves a human man his wife.
After doing a little research, I found out that the tanuki is a real creature--a subspecies of of the Asian raccoon dog. In Japanese folklore, tanuki are known to be similar to kitsune (fox demons), and can shapeshift into and/or possess humans.
For the first part of this reading, I decided to try something new and listened to it via the LibraVox audiobooks. This added an interesting new element to the stories themselves--each story was read by a different person, all with many different accents and different ways of reading. It's cool that audiobooks are an option for this class--definitely something to keep in mind in the future.
I chose another Japanese reading because I enjoyed the Japanese Mythology so much. The old Japanese backdrop adds something interesting to what would otherwise be standard fairy tales.
My favorite was the story of The Cat's Elopement--reading or listening, it's a very relaxing and sweet story. One my favorite series in my middle school days was the Warrior cats series, so I may have a soft spot for feline main characters. Still, the imagery in The Cat's Elopement was so wholesome and comforting that I think I have to recommend it anyway. If you're reading this, and you feel stressed, try putting on the audiobook of this eight (or so) minute story and listening as you fall asleep.
The other stories had a similar tone--lighthearted enough to be children's stories, not dark enough to be something out of the Grimm Brothers' stories (which is fine with me). The Two Frogs was a unique story about a simple mistake with a big impact. The Envious Neighbor and The Sparrow with the Split Tongue were both classic tales that put Nice and Good protagonists against Mean and Bad antagonists who ultimately got what they deserved. What kept them interesting was the magical elements--a dog with a nose for gold and who can magically help its owners from beyond the grave, and a sparrow who transforms into a princess. The Nice and Good protagonists, of course, were rewarded for their goodness by these very magical elements.
I look forward to reading tomorrow's section, too.
Kushinada’s mother and father had told stories about the gods many times over. She and her seven sisters had learned about the marriage of Izanagi and Izanami, the gods tasked with creating all of Japan and its islands. About the births of Amaterasu and Susanoo, the celestial gods who controlled the sun and the rain, and about their feuding.
“Don’t be afraid of the thunder,” Kushinada’s mother would tell her. “The restless skies only mean Susanoo and Amaterasu are fighting, as siblings do.”
When summer storms brought lightning and floods down upon her family’s rice fields, she wondered what it would be like to have the power of rain and lightning at her fingertips.
On clear days, she could see miles of lonely sage-green valley stretching in all directions. When the sky poured down rain, it wrapped the mountain in an intimate haze. Water rustled the cottage's mossy roof, fell down to the leaves of the verdant rice crops, pooled into the water standing at their roots.
One day, as she stood in the midst of a downpour, she spoke, “Is there really someone out there?”
And a voice answered, “My name is Susanoo.”
~
On Kushinada’s fifteenth birthday, a monstrous serpent appeared in her family’s rice fields. The beast’s eyes pulsed cherry-red. His white underbelly split into nine white trails on the undersides of its nine necks. The beast was so massive its back could’ve been mistaken for mountains. Forgotten bronze brambles grew over his black scales, caught and forgotten.
“I am Orochi,” he hissed, his many coils fencing the cottage. “And this mountain is mine. If you don’t offer me a sacrifice, I’ll raze your fields and destroy anyone who dares to escape alive.”
Kushinada’s father, the son of the god who really presided over this mountain, protested. But, before Kushinada’s eyes, her oldest sister stepped out and declared, “I will sacrifice myself to save my family.”
After Orochi vanished with her, she was never seen again.
~
As Kushinada grew and the serpent appeared again and again, she began to desire this power that turned the sky into churning storms. Her parents grew weaker, and with each year, Orochi returned to make off with another sacrifice. By the time Kushinada was twenty-two years old, her seven sisters were dead. The waning powers of her mother and father, minor gods themselves, had done nothing to shield them against the beast that plagued them.
Kushinada would be next--her death was imminent. Though she was nowhere near as powerful as the celestial gods, she refused to die on Orochi's terms.
On the eve of the fateful day, Kushinada loosed one of her wooden sandals. Weaving a wildflower into its straps, she dropped it into a swollen stream and let it be carried away.
~
On Kushinada’s 23rd birthday, her parents dressed her in her most beautiful kimono and wept, waiting for Orochi’s arrival.
What came walking through their rice fields, however, wasn’t any kind of beast, but a tall man with long, black hair and a sword at his hip. In one hand, he carried a flower-wrapped sandal.
Kushinada’s father, sensing the man’s divine power, bowed low. “My lord,” he said, “I am the son of this mountain’s protector. Please, what brings you here? I’ve never seen any person, god or mortal, in these lonely mountains before.”
The man nodded in acknowledgement. “Please, stand.” He didn’t seem concerned with the minor god in front of him. Instead, Kushinada caught his eye, and he stroked his chin curiously. “What has you all so upset?”
“My lord, we mourn the loss of our last daughter. Year after year, Orochi appears to devour another of our children. Kushinada is the only one we have left, and soon, we’ll lose her, too.”
The man said to Kushinada, “Even though you’ve never seen my face, we’ve met many times. I wouldn’t let a friend be sacrificed to a monster.” He turned to face Kushinada’s father. “Kind stranger, I’ll slay the serpent Orochi. In return, allow me to marry your daughter.”
Relieved, her father said, “Of course, if such a task is possible for you, certainly Kushinada will be in good hands. But who are you? What is your name?”
“His name is Susanoo,” Kushinada said.
~
She waited while the battle between Orochi and Susanoo raged. They had been fighting for days, but each of Orochi’s eight heads was more savage than the last. The thorns clinging to its hide leached Susanoo’s energy away with each brush of skin against scale. Storms raged above, but every lightning strike seemed invigorate the beast.
Soon, the onslaught forced Susanoo to retreat for a short while so he could catch his breath. His sword had been tangled irretrievably in the briars growing from Orochi's scales. The beast’s eight necks swung this way and that, searching for Kushinada.
“Where are you, morsel?” he bellowed, teeth snapping and tails lashing.
Kushinada emerged from the rice fields. With a polite bow, she said, “Great serpent, would you fulfill my last request, and have a drink with me?”
Orochi laughed. “Bold move. Fine—if you brought enough sake to make me drunk, this fight still wouldn’t be any more difficult.”
With each mouth, he took a drink of sake, brewed with rice from Kushinada’s family’s own fields. However, Kushinada had added a powerful sedative. By the time Orochi came to, she had strapped his necks with bridles, and his back with a saddle. She held Susanoo’s sword.
“What do you think you’re doing, girl?” Susanoo roared.
She heaved the blade over her head and brought it down, slicing into Orochi’s tail. He howled. From his flesh, she pulled out a different sword—sleek and black, it flashed with a rainbow of colors when she unsheathed it.
“I believe I’ve been used,” Susanoo said to himself, seeing Kushinada drop his old sword and mount Orochi’s back.
~
Some legends say that, on stormy summer nights, Kushinada can be seen
hurtling through the skies on a serpent’s back, brandishing a black
sword. The beast’s roars echo like thunder, and its eight necks blaze
like white lightning.
Some say Susanoo follows after her, but he hasn’t caught up with her yet.
In the original story, Susanoo happens upon Kushinada and her parents right before they’re about to give her over to Orochi. In my version, Kushinada has prayed to/spoken with him before, but in the original, it’s a chance encounter. In the original, Susanoo outwits and kills the serpent who has eaten all seven sisters. In return, Kushinada marries him. In my version, Susanoo’s bride-to-be tames the serpent instead. She does so by tricking Orochi into drinking sake—which Susanoo does in the original—and then binding Orochi and using Susanoo’s sword to cut off his tail. So, having saved herself, Kushinada takes Susanoo's place as the deity of summer storms. Kushinada herself is a minor goddess, but the serpent (along with the divine sword in its tail) will function as her new divine tool: it transports her around on its back, its roars are her source of thunder, and its eight long necks could evoke an appearance of white lightning.
I chose this story to rewrite because I love stories with dragons, serpents, and other beasts. I like heroes who slay dragons, but I like heroes who ride dragons even more. In the first draft, Susanoo was going to die in the fight, but by the time I had written up to the ending, that seemed heartless. I liked the idea of an implied love story with an ambiguous ending, so I let him live.
I removed all reference to Kushinada being a princess. She was a princess in the story, but didn't seem to have a kingdom, so the title seemed to reference her parents being gods. I preferred the idea that she and her family were utterly isolated, so for this story, she'll be a minor goddess, but not named a princess.
In the original story, Susanoo outwits and kills the serpant who has plagued Princess Kushinada’s family for years and eaten all of her seven sisters. In return for Susanoo’s help, Kushinada marries Susanoo. In my version, Susanoo is defeated, and his bride-to-be, Kushinada, tames the serpent instead. So, lacking a husband, but having gained a dragon, Kushinada takes Susanoo's place as the deity of summer storms. Kushinada herself is a minor goddess, but the serpent (along with the divine sword in its tail) will function as her new divine tool: it transports her around on its back, its roars are her source of thunder, and its eight long necks could evoke an appearance of white lightning.
Notes on characters:
Kushinada: Takes on the cunning/trickster role in the story instead of Susanoo by drugging the serpent with sake. She progresses the plot more than anyone else: she prays to Susanoo, and she is ambitious enough to take up his sword by the end of the story. She doesn’t seem to have a domain besides beauty, which she acknowledges isn’t very helpful.
Susanoo: Kushinada prays to Susanoo to get him to appear. He has a much smaller role than in the original. Since he’s been displaced from his spot in the heavens, Kushinada is then able to take his place as the god of storms.
Orochi: The serpent who ate all seven of Kushinada’s sisters. He’s intent on eating Kushinada too.
So far, the most difficult part of writing this story (3/4 of the way through one draft) is managing the length of each section. The beginning provides some background on the celestial gods and on Kushinada’s situation, but the showdown between Orochi and Susanoo is relatively short. I need to find a way to lengthen that part of the story and write in more tension and conflict. Most of the information I can find on Susanoo involves this story and from the story of Amaterasu’s mirror, but there isn’t much. I may try to find a way to characterize him more strongly and write the fight based on that.
For the most part, this reading focused on the Japanese hero Yamato Takeru, or Yamato Take. I did some research to find out more about the story and its background, but it looks like there's more than one version. Several of the summaries floating around are just vague enough that I can't tell if they're supposed to be the version in the reading, or if they're just similar enough to be confusing.
However, I think this version would be great to use to adapt the story of Yamato into a novella or novel. It could even fit into a neat, three-act screenplay structure. Unlike the Egyptian mythology stories, this story is long enough, and the main character developed enough, that a writer could get away with adapting it for modern audiences.
The protagonist is the main selling point here. He has a handful of major flaws, like any good main character, and is far from perfect at any point in the story. He is also actively a jerk to other people, like Princess Tachibana, but by the end of his story, he suffers hardships, learns a lesson, becomes a better person, and almost manages to end his own story happily. If I were the one writing this story, I might edit the ending a little--instead of Tachibana sacrificing to the sea god and Yamato living the rest of his life in grief, I would try to resolve the conflict. There could be a (Disney) Hercules-type showdown where the hero travels to the underworld (or to the heavens) to find his wife's soul and bring her back to life. Or, Yamato could do something sacrificial to bring her back. For that matter, I probably wouldn't write Yamato and Tachibana as being married for most of the novel. The relationship seems so one-sided that it would make Yamato seem like a huge jerk, if it were written that way. An alternative could be making them engaged, or putting them in an arranged marriage, but marrying them at the end of the story instead.
The antagonist is almost as interesting as the protagonist. Benten exploits Yamato's flaws for her own gain, so he can only beat her by overcoming his own weaknesses. The rest of the plot could be fleshed out with Yamato's labors, like the episodes with the glass-cutting sword and the boar.
If you have an interest in Greek myths, you should check out these Japanese myths, too. They feel familiar, but have new cultural elements and characters. It's like being able to re-read one of your favorite books and discovering the story all over again.
Since I decided to go with the theme of reversal with my portfolio, I will be choosing one of the stories in the collection to re-write. However, I'll begin with a recap of the gods--who they are, how they came to be, and the background for the story up to its events. So, possible stories:
Izanagi and Izanami. Izanagi flees from Izanami in the underworld. Instead of escaping, Izanagi is caught by the spirits his wife sends after him. Instead of Izanami vowing to take 1000 lives every day, and Izanagi vowing to give birth to 1500 more, Izanagi is forced to pay as many souls to his wife as a ransom. If Amaterasu, Susanoo, and Tsukuyomi were involved, they might be the ones to free Izanagi from Izanami's control. Or, they could be hostages who Izanagi is trying to free.
The Serpent of Koshi. Susanoo is defeated, and his bride-to-be, Kushinada-hime, tames the serpent instead. So, lacking a husband, but having gained a dragon, Kushinada takes Susanoo's place as the deity of summer storms. The serpent of Koshi could be the one who transports her around on its back, its roars could be thunder, and its eight long necks could evoke an appearance of white thunder.
The Heaven-Descended. In the original, Amaterasu appoints her grandson Ninigi as ruler of Japan. In a reversal, Amaterasu could appoint another of her grandchildren--Uzume, the one who helped to bring Amaterasu back to the sky in the story of the mirror. Uzume is a goddess of joy and happiness, and a patron of good health, which she shares with people who drink from her blessed stream. Uzume is sometimes called the Daughter of Heaven, which I think would make her a fitting ruler.
As far as I can tell, the Voyages of Sinbad have no allegorical value. But I like allegories, so I'm going to make one of my own: what does Sinbad represent to his 21st century audience?
Though Sinbad as a character is mostly divorced from his voyages in modern media depictions, several elements from the original voyages are present in some way to modern audiences. Sinbad is, in almost every voyage, the lone survivor of the crisis that eats up, murders, or otherwise kills the rest of his crew. He survives sometimes due to luck, sometimes due to skill, and sometimes due to instinct. In many depictions, Sinbad's character echoes this by being either very lucky or very resourceful. Also, as a side note, he has virtually no relevant relationships with any crew members or love interests, and usually tends to be a singular hero. This in contrast to Odysseus, who at least managed to help a few of his crew members survive and become famous.
A few tropes associated with the modern Sinbad, however, have no roots in the original stories. While Sinbad was a sailor, he wasn't a swashbuckling pirate, as many are fond of depicting him. Instead, he was a merchant and an explorer, and used his wits more than physical force to escape danger. When he does fight, he's pragmatic--usually sneak-attacking vulnerable enemies.
In other words, the biggest things modern audiences associate with Sinbad, according to recent media, is sailing, exploration, luck and survival--even the Arabian setting is optional, though it is usually echoed visually. He has become more adapted to modern roles and tropes.
The epitome of this can be seen in Dreamworks' 2003 animated movie Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas, in which Sinbad is a criminal and a pirate. The plot bears little resemblance to the original, though Sinbad and his crew do encounter the living island whale. Even the Arabian setting is absent. Instead, the setting and secondary characters are Greek, and Sinbad encounters bad guys like Odysseus' sirens and the goddess Eris.
I think this is what Sinbad represents to modern audiences--adventure, survival, and the fantastical elements that add to both.
The merchant in The Magic Kettle wasn't conventionally good or bad--the story simply called on him to be humble and share his wealth with the farmer from whom he bought the kettle. It's a simple story. Beyond that lesson, the story also serves to introduce the tanuki. In The Magic Kettle, the tanuki isn't wicked yet. Maybe it's a different tanuki than the one in the next two stories, who killed his own wife out of greed and neglects his child. In another story, the tanuki kills, cooks, and serves a human man his wife.
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