When Iemon returns to Oiwa after visiting the mansion, he has a cruel conversation with her. Among the horrible things we says, the line "go find someone else who has the time to waste on vendettas. Vendettas make me sick" caught my attention. From my understanding, samurai only had the responsibility of remaining loyal to their master/carrying out their master's vendettas. Were samurai also expected to be loyal to their wives/carry out their vendettas? If so, what would the consequences have been had if a samurai was not loyal to his wife/her vendetta as in the case Iemon?
I watched the anime episodes and wondered about vengeance even in death. Is this a common concept in Japanese culture, to continue to seek vengeance rather than to be at peace after death? or will peace only be attained once one has avenged themselves?
I find it interesting that in most of these plays we read, women are portrayed as evil on the outside whereas men who do evil things never have their appearances change. In this case, it would be the disfigurement of Oiwa paralleled to the heinous actions of Iemon. Although Oiwa did not do anything evil in her living days, she ends up being the one who looks like the monster she inevitably becomes. However, Iemon who has done various villainous acts (including killing Oiwa's father then cheating on her and condoning her death), his actions are never reflected on his physical character. It's almost as if there's a bias towards men being displayed as figures that should be sympathized with until the end.
Watching the anime I found it interesting. The part where they killed the father in law and a guy that the servant fought with was interesting. Something else I thought about was how the father in law had samurai swords even though he was a beggar at that point and that he didn't sell it. Also how the guy begin to lose interest in his "wife" after she got pregnant as if he didn't have anything to do with it. The question I had that I was uncertain about was the ending and if he poisoned his wife or something?
Schmid, Sarah Rebecca. “Rotting Bodies: Sex, Gender, and Horror in Tōkaidō Yotsuya Kaidan .” The Polish Journal of Aesthetics, vol. 55, Apr. 2019: 9–26. https://doi.org/10.19205/55.19.1 .
Sarah Rebecca Schmid’s article, “Rotting Bodies: Sex, Gender, and Horror in Tokaido Yotsuya Kaidan" dives into how gender and sexuality play important roles in the horrors of this Japanese tale through the intersection of women, ugliness, and ghosts, the role of mother and wife, and the depiction of female jealousy. Schmid intertwines relevant historical context (within kabuki, “beauty and goodness are intertwined”) with critical analysis (Iemon’s “sexual fantasy” turns “horror show”) (14, 16). Schmid shares how the scope of Oiwa’s gender limits her actions, and yet, in death, allows her to take back power on those who abused her as she is in a less feminine space (16, 21). This piece aims to support a reader who wants to think deeply about this play and analyze it through critical gender and sexuality lenses. Though it does provide vital cultural context and a brief summary, Schmid’s language and in-depth references may feel at times confusing and too academic for someone just looking for a light read. Ultimately, Schmid unveils how Oiwa represents the abuse women often suffer in silence, yet in the afterlife, Oiwa reclaims agency and seeks justice in a terrifyingly beautiful way (24).
Doherty, Niina. “From Edo Gothic to J-Horror: A Brief Look at the Ghost Story of Yotsuya.” Diabolique Magazine, 4 Mar. 2019, https://diaboliquemagazine.com/from-edo-gothic-to-j-horror-a-brief-look-at-ghost-story-of-yotsuya/.
A short, yet informative summary with modern context and relevant adaptations, in “From Edo Gothic to J-Horror: A Brief Look at the Ghost Story of Yotsuya” Niina Doherty does exactly that. She provides readers with a succinct look at the tale of Oiwa while illuminating the theatrical elements and history of the kabuki stage, providing readers with a deeper understanding of the performance to increase imagination while reading the play. Doherty then transitions to shedding light on numerous film and TV adaptations of the famous Japanese horror, which may be of interest to prospective readers who wish to absorb this tale through media other than text. This piece acts as a useful source of resources, providing numerous artistic renderings, such as those by Katsushika Hokusai, and various media adaptations like the “1959 glorious technicolour version by Nobuo Nakagawa simply titled Yotsuya Kaidan.” Doherty also focuses on the cathartic theme in Oiwa’s story of the oppressed and voiceless regaining power in death and seeking justice from those who betrayed them. In conclusion, Doherty’s brief piece would be informative to any prospective reader of Yotsuya Kaidan, especially those searching for other artistic interpretations of the famous Japanese horror story.
Shimazaki, Satoko. “The Ghost of Oiwa in Actor Prints: Confronting Disfigurement.” Impressions, no. 29 (2007): 76–97. http://www.jstor.org/stable/42598014.
Overflowing with rich artistic interpretations of the text, Satoko Shimazaki’s “The Ghost of Oiwa in Actor Prints: Confronting Disfigurement'' gifts readers with provoking imagery of Tôkaidô Yotsuya Kaidan, while discussing preproduction playbills and prints, the lantern scene, the quick-change scene at the onbo canal, and the ghost actor. Not only does Shimazaki provide visuals of the story, she also shares historical context that makes reading the play that much more engaging. She reveals that Oiwa is based on a real woman, Iwa, who was disfigured “by smallpox and betrayed by her husband” (80). This piece is for a reader whose imagination wants help in making the world of Tokaido Yotsuya Kaidan come to life as they read the play. Shimazaki also explains the technical aspects of kabuki theatre which provides readers with a deeper understanding of the on-stage and back-stage elements of this performance (81). This piece extensively looks at actor prints and the historical theatrical elements of production, thus it is not very helpful to understand the plotline, but more so to see the story play out in a reader’s mind. I recommend at least scrolling through the paper to appreciate the thought-evoking images.
Matsuura, Thersa. “Yotsuya Kaidan (The Ghost of Oiwa) Story Time (Ep. 42).” Uncanny Japan Podcast, 7 Oct. 2021, https://www.uncannyjapan.com/yotsuya-kaidan-ghost-of-oiwa-story-time/. Accessed 30 Nov. 2021.
Thersa Matsuura’s spooky and entertaining podcast episode, “Yotsuya Kaidan (The Ghost of Oiwa) Story Time (Ep. 42),” gives listeners a taste of the bone chilling tale, leaving those wanting more. Her shortened retelling of the story of Oiwa impressively catches glimpses of the play’s captivating qualities. Matsuura does a phenomenal job bringing the story of Oiwa to life as she clearly guides listeners through a terrifying journey, even taking on the role of Oiwa in the last line as she concludes to Iemon, “You will never be free of me.” This podcast will not only provide you with a helpful summary of the Yotsuya Kaidan tale, but also send goosebumps down your spine, mastering the art of theatrical storytelling that rightfully encapsulates the horror of the play itself. This piece would be most informative for a prospective reader who wants a taste of what reading the kabuki play, but not quite sure if it’s the story for them. Lastly, Matsuura shares the historical knowledge that the story of Oiwa is believed to be cursed, which heightens the spooky-level immensely.
Similar to the work mentioned above, this article is an excellent resource for anyone interested in understanding gender roles in performance or learning more about traditional Japanese theatre, as I am. Gabrovska's work explores the representation of women in traditional Japanese theatre, particularly “all-male performing arts and masculine heroes in the traditional, predominantly male Japanese theatre kabuki” (2). From this article, one can learn how the depiction of women in kabuki serves as a commentary on societal norms and expectations. This source offers a new and exciting perspective on the text by challenging conventional understandings of gender representation in a male-dominated art form through its detailed examination of the historical evolution of the practice of male actors portraying female characters (onnagata) from the medieval to the Edo period. Its relevance to the topic of "Power and Desire in Early Japanese Works: Gender, Sexuality, and Social Hierarchies in Edo and Tokugawa Literature and Performance" lies in its analysis of how kabuki not only mirrors but also critiques the social hierarchies and gender dynamics of its time.
In connection to the previous text, in this video Trent Maxey, Associate Professor at Amherst College, discusses the cultural history of late Tokugawa Japan. Maxey explores how political, economic, and ecological crises created disorder across the shogunate and influenced cultural production, using woodblock prints, literature, and kabuki theater to show how these disruptions shaped artistic expression. I found this lecture valuable for understanding the social and economic context behind the flourishing of woodblock art. Maxey links political upheaval and economic crises to the cultural landscape, highlighting how artists responded to societal turbulence. This connection is especially useful for our class discussions of love, sex, and death in Japan, where we focus on how personal relationships and societal expectations are shaped by cultural norms throughout the texts we have read. Maxey’s lecture expands this by showing how political power and instability also influenced artistic forms of expression. A particularly insightful moment comes at the 37-minute mark, when Maxey discusses kabuki and the concept of "pleasure," revealing how entertainment reflected social and political tensions. If one is interested in getting a “crash course” on how political and social forces shaped artistic expression in late Tokugawa Japan, I highly recommend this video.