The novel Shogun is an under-researched artifact, an impressive literary achievement that manages to be a 20th century version of late 19th century British obsessions with Japan as a fictional place; Shogun is a more-advanced version of The Mikado, with Japan as another planet, a place of the mysterious other, rooted mostly in the viewpoint and prejudices of that era, but more advanced in the sense that at least the names aren’t invented.
The series Shogun, however, is another work all together. Similar plot beats. But the story itself is singular, and that emotional rooting makes it a different work alltogether. Here’s some observations on the FX show, along with notes on a few episodes.
On Shogun the Series
The series is set in 1600, by which time Jesuits had been wearing their traditional garments for 30 years in Japan.
When the Jesuits arrived in 1549, the leader of their mission was Francis Xavier. They adopted the custom of Buddhist monks who wore orange silk robes, to blend in with the culture and to be taken more seriously by locals as clergy.
This practice ended in 1570 after the arrival of Francisco Cabral and Gaspar Coelho. Cabral, as the new leader of the mission, believed that the orange silk were used by the devil to corrupt their mission. He insisted that Jesuits wear their traditional garments (black cassocks), instructed his clergy to stop eating Japanese food and honoring Japanese dietary customs, and pulled back on Jesuits learning fluent Japanese. He also rejected the training of Japanese people as Jesuit priests.
Cabral and Coelho pursued a strategy of attempting to convert Buddhists and destroy Buddhist and Shinto temples in Japan’s Christian domains. These practices horrified Alessandro Valignano, who was considered the overall mission leader for Asia (as he worked from Macau). Valignano arrived in Japan with a servant named Yasuke who was from Africa. Yasuke left Valignano’s service in 1581 to serve a daimyo, and later became a samurai.
Coelho became the new leader of the mission in 1584, and while Valignano had tried to influence the Japanese mission to be more conforming to local customs, Coelho continued the more extreme practices of his predecessor Cabral.
Coelho is cited as the primary reason that Christians persecutions began in the 1590s. He was a consultant to Toyotomi Hideyoshi (who ‘The Taikō’ is based upon). Hideyoshi asked Coelho to secure two warships for the invasion of China and Korea (another past event referenced in Shogun), promising Coelho many Christian churches in the conquered regions. Coelho agreed immediately, and bluffed that he could secure troops from India as well. Coelho’s request for the warships was rejected by the king of Portgual.
When Hideyoshi realized that Coelho had lied to him, he was arrested in the middle of the night and held for questioning regarding the true purposes of their mission in Japan. Coelho was released the next morning, but Hideyoshi was angry. Hideyoshi said that the Jesuits were spreading propaganda in Japan, that their purpose was to undermine their country, and that they posed a military threat. Hideyoshi ordered Coelho and his countrymen to leave the country in twenty days, which Coelho said was impossible because it would take longer than 20 days for a ship to arrive.
Coelho wrote to other missionaries in the region requesting troops, but his requests were ignored (one priest even reprimanded him). He also tried to instigate a rebellion, but all of the Daimyo refused to participate. Hideyoshi decided not to enforce his edict, but had Hideyoshi discovered Coelho’s letters or heard about his attempts to insight a rebellion, it’s likely Coelho and all of the missionaries would’ve been executed.
Coelho died shortly after these events, leaving an enormous diplomatic mess for Valignano to try and resolve. Ultimately, he was essentially the last leader of the mission, and despite his efforts was present for the decline in the Jesuit presence. Coehlo’s treachery, combined with the abuses of Cabral, led to the persecution of Christians in Japan.
The above history is why it’s accurate that of the Jesuit priests we see, only one (Father Alvito) is fluent in Japanese.
TL;DR – Jesuits weren’t wearing orange silk Buddhist monks robes during the time period that Shogun is set
Especially given the time period, there would’ve been little incentive to ‘relax’ fighting skills for any samurai family — i.e., the way Mariko is depicted in the novel is unusual in multiple ways (especially only being skilled with a knife).
An expectation of her as samurai would’ve been to have been able to defend her household if it was attacked, and as you noted, the most likely weapon would’ve been a naginata. Even if she’s not onna-bugeisha or onna-musha, it would be unusual for her to lack that proficiency.
Shogun (the novel) overemphasizes katana/sword usage; spears, naginata and other weapons were common as well.
Shōgun | S1E5 “Broken to the Fist” | Episode Discussion
There was something symbolic in the earthquake, in the way the show presented it. Toronaga isn’t interested in the problems of Mariko and Anjin, he thinks he has bigger problems. He’s got lords who aren’t loyal, an idiot son, and these minor people are bothering him. He walks away from these people who care about him because he can’t be bothered with their issues.
As if fate itself was responding, there’s an earthquake. The earth swallows him up. Had Toronaga stayed in the spot with Anjin and Mariko, talked to them, tried to work it out, he would’ve been fine. Because he chose to walk away, he got swallowed by the quake. And these two people he couldn’t give two hoots about in the moment, the son he punished for starting the war he wanted, they all saved his life. He’s given swords by an earnest man, someone as loyal as Buntaro but as transparent as Yabushige, the swords have dishonor about them, and yet. So he laughs.
And then he sees what he wrought. His army is gone.
There’s an interesting character arc emerging for Toronaga. That laugh was he himself tearing down his eight-fold fence and letting his three hearts be one, along with showing his disappointment.
And I think Anjin is finally starting to understand. When life can be taken and upended completely out of your control like that, having rituals and structure are a way to give control. He thought the people around him considered life meaningless. If anything, it’s the opposite and by putting that rock back in place, that’s his turning point, too.
I also finally understand why I find Buntaro so pitiable. He has everything a person could want, wealth, skill, a beautiful wife, a child, the favor of a powerful lord, and all he can do is sulk and complain, like a child throwing a tantrum. It’s just his tantrums are murderous and dangerous. In this way, he’s like the Anjin, they’re mirrors for each other. The Anjin berates Buntaro for abusing Mariko. But the Anjin also yelled at Fuji; he didn’t hit her, but he got an old man killed and he looked about a heartbeat away from striking her when she told him what happened. But eventually, Anjin understood.
Buntaro can only complain about his fate and for such a powerful warrior, all he can do is cry about his lot in life as if he has no choice. Anjin can choose to stop complaining and get on with things. Which is what happens at the end. He comforts Fuji. He fixes what’s broken.
Anjin and Buntaro were mirror images of each other in the sake scene. Now, they are miles apart from each other, mirrors no more.
Shōgun | S1E7 “A Stick of Time” | Episode Discussion
Mariko is being disloyal to Toronaga when she intercedes like this. She has a deathwish, similar to Nagakado, that permeates everything she does. She should have told Toronaga exactly what Anjin-sama had said, and let him react. Instead, she withheld information based on her own judgement from both of them, which drives a wedge between both men.
Her romance with Anjin also has a taint of death around it. It seems more like she initiated the affair in the hope that Buntaro would find out and behead her.
This episode is an example of the eightfold fence and the three hearts in action. On the surface, it looks like nothing happened. But in reality, a lot happened, it’s just hard to see and understand.
It’ll seem more obvious what all happened in this episode later. Nagakado’s death was awful, but in many ways inevitable. He never had the patience for strategy. He only sees what’s on the surface. And it never occurred to him that he should trust his father. While he seemed loyal, he was in many ways incredibly disloyal and dishonorable. He was manipulated by Omi into attacking Ishido’s men. He was constantly speaking out of turn, and doing and saying the opposite of what his father wanted. The attack at the end was yet another example. I doubt Nagakado came up with that idea on his own. Most likely he was yet again manipulated.
But Nagakado also clearly had a death wish. He told Fuji he wished he would’ve died instead of her husband and son. When his uncle has the death order, Nagakado reached for it without hesitation. This death wish was more important to him than loyalty to his father. Toronaga knows this, and it’s part of the reason Toronaga was so angry with Mariko; like Nagakado, Mariko values an honorable death more than winning.
Yabushige is treacherous. He was so openly and blatantly treacherous that he sent one of his most loyal generals to patch things up with Ishido. He got his reply in a box.
So, for Toronaga, he’s surrounded by treachery, disloyalty disguised as fealty, and stupidity. It wasn’t just that his army was wiped out, it’s that while he has some strong retainers, many aren’t reliable.
The question is which of his retainers are truly loyal and willing to absolutely trust Toronaga. And which are sharp enough to see his plot, right in front of their face. Nagakado, loyal on the surface, didn’t see it and never could see it. So far, Toronaga knows which men are loyal. And also, that at least Madame Gin the prostitute understands his plan.
Shōgun | S1E9 “Crimson Sky” | Episode Discussion
Toranaga is marching to Osaka with his army. His brother is on the council of regents. He’s done what’s been asked of him. Like the lords and ladies of Osaka castle, he’s trapped by Ishido.
Ishido, who murders lords and ladies who disagree with him, who try to leave, and pretends it was someone else’s bidding. Ishido the bureaucrat, who with one hand gives papers that say the brave lady Mariko may leave, and with the other sends men in the night to kill the same noble lady.
Ishido has lost all of the loyalty and power in one fell swoop by being himself. All Toranaga had to do was keep his intentions to himself, and let others behave as they would. There was no guarantee everyone would play their parts. But they did.
Even the Anjin did, but he did one better. Alvito and the others will know he tried to protect Lady Maria’s soul (by sending himself to hell instead of allowing her to commit suicide), and her life (when he fought at the door) and was maimed in the process. This will change their antipathy to him as well.
Toranaga will enter Osaka having broken Ishido’s alliance and will, by losing his son, his most loyal friend, and his most treasured Mariko. By keeping the Anjin at bay, he’ll have gained the favor of the Christian lords and the portuguese. And he’ll be rid of his most disloyal and treacherous vassal Yabushige.
That was his plan. Let people show their true nature, and through that, show Ishido as unfit to rule.
Shogun | S1E10 “A Dream of a Dream”
One detail I appreciated was a subtlety about the ending, a last knowing glance between Toranaga-sama and Anjin-sama.
Anjin-sama spent most of the story seeking things only for himself. He sometimes went beyond himself, and did things for others (like putting the stones in the garden right and helping the villagers after the Earthquake). His second rescue of Toranaga-sama from the Earthquake had a similar quality.
Toranaga-sama has a selfish desire, to be Shogun, but it has purpose. Unlike every other liege we’ve seen, Toranaga-sama doesn’t want to fight. He’s fought more than most people on the show, except for a few of his vassals (including Yabushige), but he doesn’t want to fight. He wants something bigger, peace in his land. No more civil wars. No more fights over succession. And he wants it to outlive him. His selfish desires also have an alignment with a better life for a lot of people, and it’s a vision no one else around him shares.
Anjin-sama finally comes to his version of a similar feeling. Toranaga-sama cruelly punishes the village for something he ordered, going so far as to murder some villagers and display their heads. Anjin-sama can’t allow this anymore. He decides these people, whom he called savages when he first landed, are worth more than his life. He’s willing to die so they can live. Toranaga-sama stops him, and sees again that kindred spirit. The villagers will be spared. And they’ll know it was Anjin-sama who was willing to give his life so they could live.
Toranaga-sama didn’t say he kept the Anjin around for his amusement, he said he kept the Anjin around because he made him laugh. Your friends make you laugh. It’s as simple as that. Toranaga-sama doesn’t want his friend to die, because the last time we saw Toranaga-sama laugh was after Anjin-sama saved his life.
The Anjin has changed inside. He has a village of people working with him to raise the ship. They aren’t putting their backs into it from fear of death. They’re doing it for common purpose, loyalty to the man who saved their lives. Even Buntaro-sama was changed, coming to respect and help the man he dismissed as a barbarian.
Anjin-sama has worked out that much of the situation. They’re all people, and that these people now have a loyalty to him because of who he’s become. And Toranaga-sama sees the same, loyalty not born from fear of death, but of mutual respect.
Last Word
It’s a beautiful story, with so much depth that I could watch it ten more times and still learn something new.