This volume makes no narrative sense to me. First, starting with Takaya's initial meeting with the Red Whales in Volume 21, the author tries to force the group down my throat. In the process, she destroys a pillar of Takaya's character: his violent resistance towards anyone attempting to coerce him in any way.
Now, in this volume, she depicts the Red Whales as brutal torturers in gratuitous detail. I use "gratuitous" literally, because there appears to be absolutely no consequences to the torture. It doesn't change anyone's mind--least of all Takaya's. It somehow even eludes Naoe's instinct for taking revenge on those (other than himself) who harm his precious Kagetora.
As someone who had to ponder every word during translation: I wouldn't shed a tear for any of these parasites if they got swept off the island by a spirit-wave and eaten by a spirit-whale. I also use the word "parasite" literally, because that's what these onryou have turned out to be--parasites on the living. Despite the fact that they could fight their senseless wars in spirit-form without choosing to involve the peaceful modern people of Japan, they deliberately possess people, whom they then toss away like trash after they get hurt. This might actually make them worse than parasites, who generally can't survive without hosts. All the faux-philosophical whining of the onryou about their right to exist elide this simple fact: they can exist without harming the living, but they choose not to. Why? Because might makes right. They have the might, which gives them the right to bring their shitty feudal wars, torture, and disregard for the living to modern Japan. (See also: every character who misuses 'survival of the fittest' to mean the same thing.) Yes, let's go back to selecting for the most violent societies. What could possibly go wrong?
I'll add a note here to say that to me, possession is way worse than kanshou (the embryonic kind, at least). This is because while Mirage keeps moaning about how horrible kanshou is, it never actually details what happens. For example, is the usurped baby soul just kicked down the reincarnation ladder and has to wait longer for its turn? If so, so what? Is it suffering during that time? This seems unlikely, as Mirage has likened the in-between times to periods of rest and recharging. Meanwhile, with possession, a spirit is basically taking over a person's body and entire life and making them do things they would otherwise never do, probably giving them PTST and ruining their reputations and relationships along the way, if they even survive.
Imagine being the young man possessed by a Red Whales onryou who was forced to witness Takaya's torture as a security guard and died raping him. It's not even clear if it's just the man who died, or the spirit too. I hate to belabor the point, but I feel like I have to because Mirage itself treats the possessed living as nonentities, as mere vessels--except when named characters are involved, like Yuzuru.
It's actually rather amusing to me that Mirage makes Buddhism seem completely amoral ("a-" meaning "without"--"without morality", which is not equivalent to "bad" or "evil"). The gods and buddhas help whoever speaks the right incantations and performs the right rituals. Maybe it fits, then, that Takaya seems to have lost his moral compass, if he ever had one at all. Or maybe you could say that he's found his true compass just now, after 400 years of being under Kenshin's thumb, and I'm only disgruntled because it's diametrically opposed to mine.
I suspect that the author is trying to write her version of that trope where a brilliant general turns a group of rogues and vagabonds to his cause to show off how brilliant he is. The problem is: usually the rogues and vagabonds are at least somewhat likeable and don't make the general look like an idiot or worse for associating with them.
First the thanks: I appreciate more than I can say your putting yourself through reading a great deal of text you actively dislike with the minuteness of a (very good) translator so that this rather small community of fans can read it. That is really compassionate. My gratitude is immense, and my plea is, please, don't leave us! That said, please do what you need to for your own mental welfare.
As to the story, I'm just catching up with your vol. 22 translation, so I'm not here yet. I read what has been translated of vol. 24 10+ years ago, and my memory is dim, so I can't speak to any of the specifics you mention. I hope to catch up over winter break.
Just some general thoughts:
From vol. 22, I get the sense that Kuwabara-sensei wrote this really fast. It feels underbaked. I agree that the Red Whales "worldbuilding"/plotline(?), and hence, morality is full of holes. I'm still wondering how they actually get money, why none of the possessed people's families seem out to find their loved ones who have disappeared/had a psychotic break, and why there are literally no women (because there would be). Agreed that Kuwabara-sensei pervasively ignores the experience of possessed people; she just doesn't seem to care. Why? I don't know. (I'd probably attribute this to sloppy writing more than authorial immorality, as I expect she's a decent person in real life.)
This is also getting into the part of the story where I don't understand the Buddhist discourse, and I would love to be in a study group for it sometime. Kagetora's shifts in allegiance and ideology are definitely going somewhere thematically crucial (I won't spoil), but I don't understand it. I don't understand what he actually ends up doing or what we're meant to think of it through a Buddhist lens. I have some hope that, if you can stick with us translating, reading the full text, vs. summary, might help elucidate this for me, though your concerns also raise the possibility that maybe it won't.
Re. the power of the Buddhas, etc., this is another thing I don't really understand, in a Buddhist lens. I can offer that certain kinds of practice are thought to allow people to tap into capabilities that aren't necessarily aligned with what is "good"/beneficial. Mundane example: someone can get good at mindfulness, in terms of being able to concentrate, calm down, etc., but use this skill to be more effective in running an oppressive, extractive business (see some tech CEO's). In Buddhist teaching, that is not considered beneficial or advisable, but it's a reality that practice can confer power, which people then decide how to use. I suspect (with very lay knowledge) that Mirage's use of Pure Land Buddhism (Amida), for example, is meant to show this kind of misuse of practice. (I suspect Kuwabara-sensei is not fond of Pure Land schools and somewhat pillories them.) Now, what that's supposed to say about the involvement of the Amida Buddha, or any god, Bodhisattva, etc., I can't say. The best I can do is that Buddhas teach, and what people do with that teaching is up to them. This is not to say Buddhism withholds judgment "amorally," but that its business is not to force people to conform. The teaching can say, "This isn't beneficial," but it can't make someone unlearn techniques they've learned. Of course, in Mirage that happens all the time: gods revoke powers, etc., so how that's supposed to map onto real life Buddhism, I don't know.
I can only think of a couple other thoughts:
1) Virtually all our characters are onryou by some definition, which means psychologically screwed up by some definition. The story operates in a world of people who are difficult to deal with because they're all messed up by anger, trauma, etc. That, in itself, seems a "feature not a bug," if sometimes poorly executed.
2) I suspect the trajectory is more "group of rogues turns general to their cause" than the other way around. I know that won't help with your moral disgust, but that's my sense of what the text is going for. I could be wrong though - this is from summaries read years ago.
Eh, I don't really think what she writes reflects on Kuwabara-sensei morally--that was more an expression of frustration on my part; fiction authors should be able to write whatever they want, since exploration and pushing boundaries are important functions of fiction. Likewise, I wouldn't posit a dislike of Pure Land Buddhism on her part (heh)--possibly she just needed an antagonist to Shingon? (Although of course you know way more about Buddhism and its philosophies and nuances than I do, and if that's your experience, that's a totally valid read.)
What I suspect is that Kuwabara is one of those writers who likes to write around vibes and what's "cool"--possibly she only wanted to get Takaya in a particular state of mind to think about death at his lowest point in this volume. She wanted the pathos, the ready-to-give-everything-up-ness of the scene and wasn't too bothered about how to get there. Thus the easy dismissal of the harm caused and everyone's willingness to change their minds at the drop of a pin. I think she was putting out chapter a week or every two weeks at this point? I doubt the writing was ever meant to hold up to this level of scrutiny. Most people can skip or skim over the parts they find distasteful, but I can't, so thanks for indulging my rant!
I also suspect that both our hopes of finding deeper insights about Buddhism and about modern Japanese people's relationship to their past will be disappointed. Just like I don't know why the Yasha-shuu treat each other like colleagues they occasionally meet at the water cooler even after 400 years. For example, there's no evidence that either Kagetora or Naoe has thought about Haruie once over the last four volumes, despite her being Kagetora's most loyal supporter. Likewise Nagahide's defection: I feel like the "why" is just "it would be cool to have him fight Kagetora." I get a strong impression that Kuwabara thinks about her fights like manga/anime scenes--stuff like when she says a character "kicked off the ground" is so anime-esque. Some people like that, I guess? But for me, if I don't care about any of the participants or their cause, then the fight is meaningless--like pretty much all of the battles in the Red Whales arc have turned out to be.
I always thought the point was for Takaya to turn the Red Whales against Nobunaga in the end? We're never leaving Shikoku, are we? Uuurgh.
On your point about onryou, I believe the author will be at some pains to try to contradict this in the future, heh. But--and there's definitely current-world stuff leaking in here--I am so tired of people whining about their victimization, and then turning around and using their power to victimize others. Adding on to your point about the lack of women in these volumes, I mentioned before that in a real-world scenario, there is no way these Red Whales wouldn't be kidnapping and raping women all over the place, given the lack of discipline in the ranks, their sudden relative power, and their contempt towards modern people.
This volume makes no narrative sense to me. First, starting with Takaya's initial meeting with the Red Whales in Volume 21, the author tries to force the group down my throat. In the process, she destroys a pillar of Takaya's character: his violent resistance towards anyone attempting to coerce him in any way.
Now, in this volume, she depicts the Red Whales as brutal torturers in gratuitous detail. I use "gratuitous" literally, because there appears to be absolutely no consequences to the torture. It doesn't change anyone's mind--least of all Takaya's. It somehow even eludes Naoe's instinct for taking revenge on those (other than himself) who harm his precious Kagetora.
Which non-psychopath thinks, "If I just start being nice to this person after torturing him almost to death, he'll fight for me again"? Yet not a single Red Whales has a single qualm about whether or not Takaya would be willing to fight for them again. Maybe torture was so common in feudal Japan that everyone was just totally blasé about it and took it for granted. Or every Red Whale is actually a psychopath. Or the author attaches no moral value to torture. Or her characterization is just insanely bad.
As someone who had to ponder every word during translation: I wouldn't shed a tear for any of these parasites if they got swept off the island by a spirit-wave and eaten by a spirit-whale. I also use the word "parasite" literally, because that's what these onryou have turned out to be--parasites on the living. Despite the fact that they could fight their senseless wars in spirit-form without choosing to involve the peaceful modern people of Japan, they deliberately possess people, whom they then toss away like trash after they get hurt. This might actually make them worse than parasites, who generally can't survive without hosts. All the faux-philosophical whining of the onryou about their right to exist elide this simple fact: they can exist without harming the living, but they choose not to. Why? Because might makes right. They have the might, which gives them the right to bring their shitty feudal wars, torture, and disregard for the living to modern Japan. (See also: every character who misuses 'survival of the fittest' to mean the same thing.) Yes, let's go back to selecting for the most violent societies. What could possibly go wrong?
I'll add a note here to say that to me, possession is way worse than kanshou (the embryonic kind, at least). This is because while Mirage keeps moaning about how horrible kanshou is, it never actually details what happens. For example, is the usurped baby soul just kicked down the reincarnation ladder and has to wait longer for its turn? If so, so what? Is it suffering during that time? This seems unlikely, as Mirage has likened the in-between times to periods of rest and recharging. Meanwhile, with possession, a spirit is basically taking over a person's body and entire life and making them do things they would otherwise never do, probably giving them PTST and ruining their reputations and relationships along the way, if they even survive.
Imagine being the young man possessed by a Red Whales onryou who was forced to witness Takaya's torture as a security guard and died raping him. It's not even clear if it's just the man who died, or the spirit too. I hate to belabor the point, but I feel like I have to because Mirage itself treats the possessed living as nonentities, as mere vessels--except when named characters are involved, like Yuzuru.
It's actually rather amusing to me that Mirage makes Buddhism seem completely amoral ("a-" meaning "without"--"without morality", which is not equivalent to "bad" or "evil"). The gods and buddhas help whoever speaks the right incantations and performs the right rituals. Maybe it fits, then, that Takaya seems to have lost his moral compass, if he ever had one at all. Or maybe you could say that he's found his true compass just now, after 400 years of being under Kenshin's thumb, and I'm only disgruntled because it's diametrically opposed to mine.
I suspect that the author is trying to write her version of that trope where a brilliant general turns a group of rogues and vagabonds to his cause to show off how brilliant he is. The problem is: usually the rogues and vagabonds are at least somewhat likeable and don't make the general look like an idiot or worse for associating with them.
First the thanks: I appreciate more than I can say your putting yourself through reading a great deal of text you actively dislike with the minuteness of a (very good) translator so that this rather small community of fans can read it. That is really compassionate. My gratitude is immense, and my plea is, please, don't leave us! That said, please do what you need to for your own mental welfare.
As to the story, I'm just catching up with your vol. 22 translation, so I'm not here yet. I read what has been translated of vol. 24 10+ years ago, and my memory is dim, so I can't speak to any of the specifics you mention. I hope to catch up over winter break.
Just some general thoughts:
From vol. 22, I get the sense that Kuwabara-sensei wrote this really fast. It feels underbaked. I agree that the Red Whales "worldbuilding"/plotline(?), and hence, morality is full of holes. I'm still wondering how they actually get money, why none of the possessed people's families seem out to find their loved ones who have disappeared/had a psychotic break, and why there are literally no women (because there would be). Agreed that Kuwabara-sensei pervasively ignores the experience of possessed people; she just doesn't seem to care. Why? I don't know. (I'd probably attribute this to sloppy writing more than authorial immorality, as I expect she's a decent person in real life.)
This is also getting into the part of the story where I don't understand the Buddhist discourse, and I would love to be in a study group for it sometime. Kagetora's shifts in allegiance and ideology are definitely going somewhere thematically crucial (I won't spoil), but I don't understand it. I don't understand what he actually ends up doing or what we're meant to think of it through a Buddhist lens. I have some hope that, if you can stick with us translating, reading the full text, vs. summary, might help elucidate this for me, though your concerns also raise the possibility that maybe it won't.
Re. the power of the Buddhas, etc., this is another thing I don't really understand, in a Buddhist lens. I can offer that certain kinds of practice are thought to allow people to tap into capabilities that aren't necessarily aligned with what is "good"/beneficial. Mundane example: someone can get good at mindfulness, in terms of being able to concentrate, calm down, etc., but use this skill to be more effective in running an oppressive, extractive business (see some tech CEO's). In Buddhist teaching, that is not considered beneficial or advisable, but it's a reality that practice can confer power, which people then decide how to use. I suspect (with very lay knowledge) that Mirage's use of Pure Land Buddhism (Amida), for example, is meant to show this kind of misuse of practice. (I suspect Kuwabara-sensei is not fond of Pure Land schools and somewhat pillories them.) Now, what that's supposed to say about the involvement of the Amida Buddha, or any god, Bodhisattva, etc., I can't say. The best I can do is that Buddhas teach, and what people do with that teaching is up to them. This is not to say Buddhism withholds judgment "amorally," but that its business is not to force people to conform. The teaching can say, "This isn't beneficial," but it can't make someone unlearn techniques they've learned. Of course, in Mirage that happens all the time: gods revoke powers, etc., so how that's supposed to map onto real life Buddhism, I don't know.
I can only think of a couple other thoughts:
1) Virtually all our characters are onryou by some definition, which means psychologically screwed up by some definition. The story operates in a world of people who are difficult to deal with because they're all messed up by anger, trauma, etc. That, in itself, seems a "feature not a bug," if sometimes poorly executed.
2) I suspect the trajectory is more "group of rogues turns general to their cause" than the other way around. I know that won't help with your moral disgust, but that's my sense of what the text is going for. I could be wrong though - this is from summaries read years ago.
Eh, I don't really think what she writes reflects on Kuwabara-sensei morally--that was more an expression of frustration on my part; fiction authors should be able to write whatever they want, since exploration and pushing boundaries are important functions of fiction. Likewise, I wouldn't posit a dislike of Pure Land Buddhism on her part (heh)--possibly she just needed an antagonist to Shingon? (Although of course you know way more about Buddhism and its philosophies and nuances than I do, and if that's your experience, that's a totally valid read.)
What I suspect is that Kuwabara is one of those writers who likes to write around vibes and what's "cool"--possibly she only wanted to get Takaya in a particular state of mind to think about death at his lowest point in this volume. She wanted the pathos, the ready-to-give-everything-up-ness of the scene and wasn't too bothered about how to get there. Thus the easy dismissal of the harm caused and everyone's willingness to change their minds at the drop of a pin. I think she was putting out chapter a week or every two weeks at this point? I doubt the writing was ever meant to hold up to this level of scrutiny. Most people can skip or skim over the parts they find distasteful, but I can't, so thanks for indulging my rant!
I also suspect that both our hopes of finding deeper insights about Buddhism and about modern Japanese people's relationship to their past will be disappointed. Just like I don't know why the Yasha-shuu treat each other like colleagues they occasionally meet at the water cooler even after 400 years. For example, there's no evidence that either Kagetora or Naoe has thought about Haruie once over the last four volumes, despite her being Kagetora's most loyal supporter. Likewise Nagahide's defection: I feel like the "why" is just "it would be cool to have him fight Kagetora." I get a strong impression that Kuwabara thinks about her fights like manga/anime scenes--stuff like when she says a character "kicked off the ground" is so anime-esque. Some people like that, I guess? But for me, if I don't care about any of the participants or their cause, then the fight is meaningless--like pretty much all of the battles in the Red Whales arc have turned out to be.
I always thought the point was for Takaya to turn the Red Whales against Nobunaga in the end? We're never leaving Shikoku, are we? Uuurgh.
On your point about onryou, I believe the author will be at some pains to try to contradict this in the future, heh. But--and there's definitely current-world stuff leaking in here--I am so tired of people whining about their victimization, and then turning around and using their power to victimize others. Adding on to your point about the lack of women in these volumes, I mentioned before that in a real-world scenario, there is no way these Red Whales wouldn't be kidnapping and raping women all over the place, given the lack of discipline in the ranks, their sudden relative power, and their contempt towards modern people.