Commonalities in Lafcadio Hearn and Osamu Kitayama's Understanding of the Urashima Taro Story
Lafcadio Hearn included the essay "THE DREAM OF A SUMMER DAY" in his 1895 book, "Out of the East."
It depicts his thoughts while staying at the Urashimaya, a Western-style hotel in Misumi Port, which had just opened at the time.
The inn seemed like a paradise, and the maids were like celestial maidens.
Just then, I was awakened from my nap-time daydream by a polite "Excuse me," spoken in a voice as clear as the sound of a wind chime. She was very young, and with her charm, she reminded me of the "Beautiful Woman of Kochō" or the "Daughter of Seiga" by Utagawa Kunisada; she was a truly enchanting and very pleasant person.
Thus, Lafcadio Hearn describes the time at Urashimaya as if it were an event in the Dragon Palace. He then continues with the story of Urashima Taro, and after recounting the tale, he adds the following.
Otohime-sama is beautifully dressed in the palace, waiting endlessly for his return, wondering if it will be today or tomorrow—then "Kumo" (Hearn) returns and mercilessly tells her what happened—and the sea creatures in their formal, long robes, though lovely, are clumsy as they try desperately to comfort Otohime-sama.
However, in the true story, none of these things happened. It seems that the Japanese people sympathize with Urashima. So, I thought about it in my own way as follows.
Is it really correct to pity Urashima? Of course, Urashima was led astray by the gods. Is there anyone who has not been led astray by the gods? Is there any "life" without delusion? Urashima was led astray, but he doubted the gods' purpose and finally opened the box. Nevertheless, he passed away without any trouble. People have even built a shrine called Urashima Myojin for him. Why do they sympathize with Urashima so much?
In the West, it is treated quite differently. If we do not follow the Western gods, we are kept alive and made to realize the extent of our regrets, down to the very depths of despair. None of us are allowed to pass away peacefully at the best of times. Let alone being allowed to become a minor god in our own right after death. How can we sympathize with the foolish act that Urashima committed after living with the gods of the physical world for quite a long time?
Lafcadio Hearn then points out the Japanese mentality found in the Urashima legend.
Perhaps, if this question can be answered, it is the very fact that he is being sympathized with. The sympathy in this case must beself-pity. If so, the Urashima legend can become a tale of the souls of all people.
On the other hand, Osamu Kitayama, a psychiatrist and member of The Folk Crusaders, discusses the Japanese mentality embedded in stories in his book "Definitive Edition: The Prohibition of Looking," using Japanese folktales that Lafcadio Hearn also dealt with, such as Urashima Taro, Yuzuru (Twilight Crane), the Snake Woman, and the Snow Woman, under the concept of "the prohibition of looking."
There, he also mentions that the protagonists who broke the promise of "do not look" are not blamed.
In Chapter 8, "The Therapist's <Reception> of a Patient's Shameful Experience," he writes as follows:
It may be Japanese that the sin of the person who violated the "prohibition of looking" is not taken up, but only the person who is seen and feels ashamed is taken up. Even though thereaderwho reads or hears the story is an accomplice in violating the "prohibition of looking," the possibility of that <peeping> is not questioned, likely because the reader, who is in a position to only see it and not be seen by anyone, denies that peeping.
Therefore, I would like to explore the commonalities between what Lafcadio Hearn wrote as"self-pity"and what Osamu Kitayama stated as"accomplice", while also thinking about the spirituality of the Japanese people.
Self-pity
First, I would like to consider the self-pity pointed out by Lafcadio Hearn.
The sympathy in this case must be self-pity. If so, the Urashima legend can become a tale of the souls of all people.
Original text
Perhaps the fact that we do may answer the riddle.
This pity must be self-pity; wherefore the legend may be the legend of a
myriad souls.
Self-pity: if read literally, it means "pitying oneself," but understood in the context of Lafcadio Hearn, it can be said that the pity cast upon Urashima Taro is "made my own."
In other words, Hearn likely understood that as the story is told, the assimilation between Taro and the reader progresses. In this, he finds the "culture of Japanese sympathy" that he has pointed out in many documents. And by indicating it as a "tale of the souls of all people," it can be said that he pointed out that self-pity lurks at the bottom of the Japanese mentality.
The Complicit Relationship Between the Protagonist and the Reader
Osamu Kitayama points out that there is a complicit relationship between the protagonist and the reader. He conducted analyses using subjects other than Urashima Taro, such as Izanami and Izanagi, Yuzuru, Yuki-onna, and the Snake Woman. In these stories, he points out a 'culture of shame' where the one who breaks a prohibition and peeks is not punished, while the one who is peeked at feels shame and withdraws; however, he notes that the pursuit of those who are unilaterally exiled 'should be conducted after an analysis of the protagonist's curiosity to peek or their morbid curiosity.'
Furthermore, the reader who is 'peeking' at the protagonist who is trying to 'peek' is in a place where they can never be 'peeked at' by the protagonist. In this, Kitayama sees a mentality of self-pity, where despite being in a 'complicit relationship,' the reader forgives the protagonist because they pity themselves.
Osamu Kitayama also writes the following:
The responsibility of the observer is heavy. We frequently say we 'observe patients,' and mothers say they 'watch their children.' When we ask how we perceive things when we observe them, do we not realize that there are cases where we push back the 'exposed object' or react with our own feelings of disgust?
It is said that the etymology of 'sympathy' comes from the Greek 'syn' (together) and 'pathos' (suffering). It can be interpreted as 'sharing suffering together.' Could the Japanese heart that Hearn pointed out be described as a heart that shares what cannot be avoided?
How does Osamu Kitayama view the Japanese heart, which tends to be backward-looking, such as in comforting or caring for one another?