[Book] Mouryou no Hako / 魍魎の匣
[This post is not a plot summary or general book review of Mouryou no Hako, a novel written by Kyōgoku Natsuhiko (京極夏彦), but spoiler discussion assuming prior knowledge of the book. This is also not a review of the anime adaptation by Madhouse either, though it may or may not be useful reference information. If you are looking for spoiler-free information about the Hyakkiyagyō series (of which Mouryou no Hako is the second book), please do not proceed any further and refer to this post instead.]
Mouryou no Hako is actually among my least favorite stories in the series, even though it would appear to be the most popular. (It is the only book in the series that has been adapted into a live-action movie, an anime series and a manga series.)
In any case, true to Kyōgoku’s style, there are many “doubles” in story that have a strange echoing effect on each other -
1. Kubo dismembered young girls for “art”. Mimasaka dismembered Kanako and Kubo for “science”.
2. Yōko wanted to become and replace her mother Kinuko because Kinuko had become sick, ugly and old. Yōko left Kinuko to die alone. Yoriko also wanted to become and replace Kanako, who reminded Yoriko of her mother Kimie when Kimie was still young and beautiful. Yoriko wished that her mother Kimie were died. Yoriko also killed Kanako when she realized Kanako was no longer “perfect”. (Notice all the Y’s and K’s in their names? “Y” for daughter figures and “K” for mother figures.)
3. Kubo’s fingers were cut by his crazy mother. Kanako’s fingers from the “living arm” were also to be cut off by her parents as proof that she was still alive and entitled to inherit the Shibata fortune.
4. The life of Makio was the life that might have been for Sekiguchi back in The Summer of Ubume. The path that Kubo took after seeing the smiling Kanako in a box was also the path that Sekiguchi might have easily followed.
I am not saying that Mouryou no Hako is short of interesting ideas – below is a just few that I wish to highlight:
The motif of “the box”
The Summer of Ubume addressed the idea that the human body remembers even if the human brain (which filters information) does not. Mouryou no Hako took this idea further in comparing the human body to a box that “replays” signals from external sources outside itself. Those signals may be “current” (ie. existing here and now) or “stored” (ie. experienced in the past but no longer in existence). The latter case would be when a human being remembers the past and “replays” signals that no longer exist in the external world. Such a “box” is like a tape recorder or television set – it does not have any content in itself but it has the function and ability to “replay” content. There is something creepy about the human body if you think about that.
Mimasaka was a scientist way ahead of his times. Just as a certain character in The Summer of Ubume experimented with the conception of the human embryo in a lab (comparable to the homunculus in alchemy), Mimasaka went from experimenting with replacement of organic human parts (think Frankenstein) to replacement of the the human body with machine (think Ghost in the Shell), in the belief that if machine can interpret signals and perform the body’s organic functions, people can live forever without aging or dying forever. His research in itself is of great medical and scientific value, but it was of little strategic value during WWII because it was too costly to be practical. In any case, Chūzenji rebuked Mimasaka’s belief – which brings me to the next point -
The concept of kotodama [言霊]
There is a word in Japanese known as kotodama [言霊, or sometimes written as 言魂] that denotes the spiritual power of words. Koto [言] means “word” or “speech”; dama [霊 or 魂] comes from tama or tamashii which means “soul”. (On a side note, there is a conspiracy theorist out there by the name of Izawa Motohiko [井沢元彦], who has been publishing quite a number of books over many years on the themes of i) how Japanese history is shaped by kotodama and ii) how there has never really been any real freedom of speech in Japan as a “country of kotodama” [言霊の国]. There is a lot more to say about Izawa’s theories but I digress.)
Chūzenji is a master of kotodama. His curse as an onmyouji is never some obscure and incomprehensible passage recited from some magic book – his curse is always constructed in accordance to the the cursed person’s individual circumstances and phrased in words that the cursed person’s can understand only too well.
Mimasaka believed that if the external world can be replaced by electronic data, then we do not need a physical body that ages with time. If you get rid of flesh and bones and replace them with wires, then you can see things without your visual nerves, you can listen to music without eardrums.
Chūzenji disagreed with him and said that i) the brain is only a mirror and; ii) the consciousness created by a brain that is connected to a machine is the consciousness of the machine.
Upon hearing this, Mimasaki thought this was a lie with which Chuuzenji was trying to trick him. In reply, Chūzenji said: “So you think it is a lie? But these are words said by me. If you believe my words for even a fleeting moment, then it is your defeat. This is called a curse. I have no weapons that I can use in your field of science except this.”
In other words, Chūzenji “wins” by planting doubt in Mimasaka’s mind. It does not matter what Chūzenji really thinks – all he has to say is the exact opposite of what Mimasaka believes. If Mimasaka believes that human consciousness can be preserved in a human brain encased in a machine, then Chūzenji will say that the consciousness thus created is not the human’s but the machine’s. Chūzenji’s words then become a kind of psychological force in Mimasaka’s mind (ie. a curse).
Chances are, doubt is a recurring thing. If Mimasaka had not been violently bitten to death by Kubo so soon, Chūzenji’s words would have come back to haunt him again and again. That is the true force of an onmyouji‘s curse.
Happiness and “the other side”
In the book, it is hinted that after Kanako was dismembered and put into a box, she was still living and retaining consciousness. My guess is that if she retained consciousness at all, she must have gone over to “the other side” too, or else she would not have smiled at Kubo when Amamiya opened the box. If she had looked as though she were suffering, perhaps Kubo might not have been so readily drawn to “the other side”.
Kanako and Amamiya make a pair in the sense that they accept reality to the point of madness. Amamiya’s thinking goes like this:
- He is happy being with Kanako.
- If Kanako becomes a “living arm,” then he is happy being with that “living arm”.
- If Kanako becomes a dismembered girl in a box, then he is happy being with that dismembered girl in box.
- If Kanako becomes a “black dried thing” in the box (which Isama saw), then he is happy being with that “black dried thing” in the box.
In other words, Amamiya has learned a way to be happy by accepting reality and adjusting himself to whatever comes his way in the outside world. This may look like madness, but he himself is happy. The law cannot influence his happiness. Even if you locked him up in a mental hospital, he could still find a way to be “happy”. No one can take his happiness away.
Amamiya obtained the boxed Kanako by killing Suzaki. My guess is that if Kubo had tried to steal the boxed Kanako from Amamiya on the train, Kubo might not have lived to kill other young girls in his effort to produce a boxed girl just like Kanako. As for what is so attractive about a girl in a box that Kubo went mad over it – I must confess that I do not know for sure. Below is only my speculation:
The meaning of keppeki shou [潔癖症]
Keppeki shou [潔癖症] is the word with which the protagonist of Kubo’s fiction Hako no Naka no Musume [匣の中の娘] describes himself. This word is usually translated as “obsession with cleanliness” but it really a lot more than that. Keppeki shou is not only extreme repugnance to dirt and anything unclean. What may not be obvious in the translation of “cleanliness” is that “cleanliness” refers not only to physical cleanliness (like keeping your room clean), but also to moral or spiritual “cleanliness”. Moreover, that moral or spiritual “cleanliness” tends to be based on a kind of uncompromising, black-and-white, and possibly unrealistic or childish worldview – as in “it is bad to kiss boys/girls” or “all lies are bad” or “vulgar people should die”.
Keppeki shou is different from “perfectionism” or kanpeki shugi [完璧主義], which tends to be used in a positive or neutral sense and against some objective measurement (ex. getting full marks in a test). Keppeki shou tends to be more subjective, like judging what is “good” or “bad”, or deciding what is “fair” or “ugly”. Keppeki shou is the concept that runs like an invisible thread throughout Mouryou no Hako.
Consider Kanako’s speech about “the decay of celestial beings,” or tennin no gosui [天人五衰]. Kanako’s creative interpretation of tennin no gosui is the exact reverse of the orthodox position in Buddhist belief. The orthodox maintains that fading flower laurels and soiled clothes etc are the symptoms of a celestial being’s impending death. However, Kanako believes that celestial beings die because their flower laurels fade and their clothes become soiled. They are the cause of death and not symptoms of impending death. In other words, fading flower laurels and soiled clothes are all it takes for celestial beings to be unhappy to the point that they perish from existence. I believe this point highlights that touch of keppeki shou in her imagination.
Kubo’s obsession with putting dismembered girls into boxes is also like that. This is just my guess but I believe he does that to “protect” the girls from becoming “unclean” – so that the girls can maintain their state of “purity” and never be soiled by the evil ways, the dirt and vulgarity of the real world.
When you want to protect something, you put it in a box.
The meaning of Kyouki bi [狂気美]
Having said the above, I believe another keyword to understanding Kubo’s madness is kyouki bi [狂気美].
Kyouki bi is not a word you will find readily defined in a dictionary although it is used quite frequently. I personally would define it as:
The strange and demonic beauty of madness, lunacy and all manner of mental infirmities, usually accompanied by i) an intense yearning or obsession for some delusional concept of “purity,” “perfection” or “ideal”; ii) refusal to compromise with “impurity” and “imperfection” and; iii) a readiness for death and destruction.
I once read an analogy of what makes the perception of an artist different – normal people see only the horror in a car accident, but the artist may see the scene of accident as a beautiful picture (in the beauty of the redness of the overflowing blood etc). It is the same with the idea of a beautiful and living maiden’s head kept within a beautiful box – it is a beautiful face and beautiful soul encapsuled for time and eternity within a beautiful frame. That is the sort of kyouki bi that Kubo goes after.
Plot holes and the rest
As I said, Mouryou no Hako is an interesting story, even though it is among my least favorite in the Hyakkiyagyou series. There are just too many plot holes. For one thing, I have yet to see why Enokidu did not take any action upon meeting Kubo at the cafe (for Enokidu would have known then that Kubo was the killer).
If you can think of any reason why, or if you have anything else to say or add to this post, please feel free to drop me a note any time.
I’ve started to watch the anime. Is the yuri tone of the first episode noticeable in the book in the slightest or, as I suspect, an original “contribution”?
Ridiculus:
That is a very good question.
The yuri tone is present in the book as well, and deliberately so. But there is also an element of fanatic worship in it. Personally, I thought Kyougoku had captured well the sort of intense, fanatic and obsessive friendships that girls that age sometimes have – perhaps people who have gone to girl-only schools at around that age would probably know what I mean. (On a side note, I remember reading a biography of Colette once and came across a term in French that describes that just sort of friendship, but unfortunately I have forgotten what that term was. If anyone knows, please be so kind as to drop me a note.)
Anyhow, I am not sure if they make this clear in the anime translation, but Kanako speaks in male speech. “Hou” is mostly only used by men to express mild surprise, and the command verb form “~tamae” is also only used by men.
There is another book in the series in which Kanako reappears as a kind of mystical symbol of the androgynous ideal (ie. the concept of male and female being all in one).
So how far in are you with the anime now?
I prefer Ubume also, but I really like the part near the end when Kiba says a line from the film to Yoko. I thought that was a very poignant counterpoint to all the preceding madness.
humbug:
I much prefer The Summer of Ubume also.
For me, the poignant moment was when Chuuzenji said towards the end that it is simple to be happy – you just have to give up being human, and then Sekiguchi imagines how Amamiya wanders the earth, happily with the boxed Kanako and without a care for tomorrow.
“So how far in are you with the anime now?”
I’ve watched about half of the series (6 episodes). I don’t have much time now, and this is not a series that could be watched lightly.
Ridiculus:
I am glad to hear that you seem to be taking this show seriously.
[...] no Hako – I guess it almost makes it to this year? Let’s leave it to wabisabi, so we don’t have [...]
It is evident that Kyougoku often uses the figure of the mother as responsible in some way for the proceeding crimes. So in Ubume no natsu (Kikuno Kuonji), so in Mouryou no Hako (Kimie Kusumoto and maybe Kubo’s mother).
I have noticed the role of the extraordinary scientist in both works, as you said. Their research was in both cases initiated by the circumstances of their private lives.
And the idea of the brain as a mirror is terrifyingly great.
This was a very nice read. Thanks kindly!
Ridiculus:
I am very sorry that I missed your comment for so long – I guess I did not get the email notification at that time.
Anyway, I have to agree with you, having just read another one of Kyougoku Natsuhiko’s books last weekend – “Warau Iemon” [哂う伊右衛門]. (Apparently this book has been made into a live-action movie as well, though I have never seen it. It is a very difficult book to make into a good movie.)
Chirmaya:
You are very welcome.
“As for what is so attractive about a girl in a box that Kubo went mad over it – I must confess that I do not know for sure.”
As a thought, it might have been not just “girl in a box”, but happiness of Amamiya that Kubo envied as well. The rest of your deduction still applies though, since in more normal circumstances that envy might have not evolved into the sinister mania.
P.S. Sorry for this epic necroposting, but I suppose you might be interested nontheless.
Livid:
Yes, that is a good point. Now that I think of it, there is a Japanese idiom “hako-iri no musume” [箱入りの娘]. Transliterally, it means a “girl in a box” but in essence it means a “well-sheltered girl”. Perhaps they long for that sort of feminine ideal embodied in Kanako as well.