_Darkness upon Yamato,
Land of the gods,
Awaits the new dawn--
Ten-no-Heika.
_
That last was a traditional phrase that, simply translated, meant "sonof heaven." For a Japanese, though, the overtones are more; they say"the way of the emperor."
Subsequent history proved him prescient on several points--the main onebeing that militarism was a disaster for Japan. Also, he had rightlyfeared that the monarchy would become an empty symbol in the ruins ofTojo's hopeless war. Although he hadn't lived to see Tojo tried andhanged as a criminal, he had predicted the outcome of the warunerringly--and he'd insisted that his infant daughter be evacuated toSasayama just before the Allies moved in for the kill. Because of hisforesight she escaped the first firebombing of Tokyo, which convertedthe city into a giant death oven for eighty thousand innocent Japanesecivilians too old or young to escape. America's pragmatic "finalsolution": Auschwitz with airborne incendiaries. The rest of ToshiNoda's family was burned alive.
Afterward Matsuo Noda had complied with another of Toshi Noda's wishesand made certain his daughter received a first-class education. Sinceshe had a natural instinct for economics he'd encouraged her, rightlyforeseeing it as a discipline vital to Japan in the twenty-firstcentury. She had excelled beyond his fondest expectations; she was infact brilliant. As a result he grew to dote on her, to an extent thateventually grew almost obsessive. He'd even made her his heir, since hehad none of his own. His fortune was rumored to be in the tens ofmillions.
Probably the most important thing to keep in mind about
Akira Mori, Ken had concluded, was that she merely looked _avant-garde_. Inside she lived in another age. In fact he suspected thereason she'd never married had something to do with the fact she wasalready wed: to the vision of Japan's powerful, sacred Imperial past.
On the trip down to Ise, Mori had silently sipped her green tea whileNoda chatted with Asano about the costs and timing of commercializingthe intelligent machines that would come out of the Fifth GenerationProject. Although Noda stuck to generalities, it was clear he wastotally conversant with the latest developments in the field. In fact,Tam found herself thinking, he seemed to know anything there was toknow about just about everything. He displayed the same obsession withJapan's technological future that the old-time shoguns must have hadabout the goings-on of their vassals.
She also sensed that he and Asano were doing a lot of theircommunicating in a verbal shorthand, enough so that she began tosuspect they had worked together before: they were like father and son,each anticipating the other's thoughts and conclusions.
By the time they reached Ise it was already late afternoon, but Noda'sdriver had phoned ahead from the car and arranged rooms for the nightat the local spa, so they wouldn't have to go back late. She noticedthere hadn't been any talk about the famous Sword, but she figuredmaybe he was saving that for dinner.
The museum Noda planned was to be built outside the shrine proper, justbefore you crossed the wide, arched Uji Bridge spanning the Isuzu Riverthat separated Shinto's holy ground from the ordinary world. The shrineitself, a collection of thatched-roof buildings in severe traditionalstyle, was hidden down a long trail among giant cryptomeria trees thattowered hundreds of feet into the pale afternoon sky.
Attesting to the speed with which things can happen in Japan whenthere's the go-ahead from above, the location had already been stakedand the trees cleared. Excavation for the foundation merely awaitedNoda's approval. While everybody else stood around and waited, heconsulted with the site engineer, checked over the plans, and made afew final changes. All the while, onlookers were bowing to him rightand left. He'd become, overnight, an authentic Japanese legend.
After finishing with the engineer, he suggested they stroll on down topay respects at the shrine itself, since they'd come all this way.Their burly chauffeur suddenly became a bodyguard, clearing the pathahead. Noda was expansive now, presumably confident his niche inhistory was secure. As they were crossing the wooden bridge, hecasually asked Tam what she knew about the Sword.
A one-of-a-kind historical find, she replied. Important andfascinating. She'd seen the Emperor on TV. . . .
"I assumed you would understand its significance." He was leading theway down the path. "Perhaps then you'll indulge me a moment for anancient tale about it."
By now the entire shrine had been cleared of tourists and they weresurrounded only by bowing and smiling priests in white robes: the VIPtreatment. "The Imperial sword harkens back in a way to our version ofAdam and Eve. Except, according to our own creation story, they werealso the ones who created Japan; they were the original _kami_."
"The original Japanese gods."
"Well, perhaps 'god' is too strong a term, Dr. Richardson. I prefer tothink of our _kami_ as merely spirits of life." Noda shrugged, thencontinued. "According to the myth, the first male and female _kami_stirred the sea with a long spear, then lifted it, and the brine thatdropped from its tip piled up and became Japan."
She caught herself smiling. "I've always wondered what Freud would havethought of that."
Mori glared at her in a way that suggested some offense at herirreverence, while MIT-educated Ken merely stifled a grin. Noda,however, took the quip in stride.
"Freud? Ah, yes, your philosopher. I seem to recall he's the one whoregarded almost everything as some manifestation of our sexualappetite. Well, these are primitive stories, Dr. Richardson, thatdescribe the beginning of life. I suppose they should be somewhatearthy, wouldn't you agree?" He chuckled. "Nonetheless, according toour early tales, the Sun Goddess--whose shrine this is--was created outof the left eye, the side of honor, of the first male _kami_, and theMoon God was created out of his right. Then they ascended into theskies."
She glanced up. The Sun Goddess appeared to be headed for bed, the skyitself barely light through the cryptomeria. The air was beginning togrow slightly crisp.
"Now we come to the sword. When the Sun Goddess finally sent hergrandson down to rule over the mortals below, he brought with him thethree items that became the emblems of Imperial rule. They were thesacred mirror, signifying purity, a curved bead necklace, used to wardoff evil spirits, and the sword, standing for courage. The greatgrandson of that first earthbound immortal extended his dominion overall of Japan and became the first emperor. We are told his name wasJimmu, and the legends say that was around 660 B.C."
"_So desu_," Miss Mori interjected abruptly, startling even Ken. Sheseemed to be lecturing directly to Tam. "We all know our Emperor todayis directly descended from him. In fact, he is precisely the onehundred and twenty-fourth emperor after Jimmu. Japan and the Imperialline were born simultaneously, and every Japanese is related to him. Weare a monoracial state."
Tam glanced at her. By God, she wasn't kidding.
"Well, it's possible the traditional account has reworked historicalfacts a trifle," Noda continued smoothly. "Actually the peoples whobecame our modern Japanese seem to have made their way here to the mainisland from somewhere in the South Pacific and settled in this areaaround Ise. Near here we still find burial mounds that contain replicasof their early symbols of Imperial authority--mirrors, gems, swords."
"But the sword you found? Did it really come down from on high?" Tamasked, half hoping to rankle Akira Mori.
"You mean was it that very first one?" Noda shrugged. "Who could locatethe original Garden of Eden? Please, we all must allow for a certainelement of poetic license in our myths. But it is unquestionably thesword referred to in the ancient chronicles such as the HeiteMonogatari, which dates from the Heian era, the ninth through twelfthcenturies. That sword was lost in 1185, and now it's been recovered.That's all we know for sure."
Mori, walking along in her quick, Japanese-woman pace, obviously wasnot satisfied with Noda's rationalist version of history.
"Dr. Richardson," she cut in again, "what the recovery of the sword hasachieved is to remind the Japanese people that we are unique. WeJapanese h
ave a special soul, a Yamato _minzoku _of pure blood andspiritual unity. All Japanese are related to each other and to theEmperor, so there is a oneness of spirit, a blood-and-soul relation,between the Emperor and his people. Yamatoists believe, rightly, that atemporary eclipse of our Japanese _minzoku_ was brought about by theAmerican occupation, whose imposed constitution and educational systemwere acts of racial revenge against Japan. Our postwar identity crisis,our negative image of ourselves, was created by Americans. But thattime is over. Although we have no single God, as in the Judeo-Christiantradition, we have something even more powerful. Through our Emperor wehave a line of descent that harkens back to the beginning of our world.Perhaps we no longer choose to claim he is divine, but that makes himno less an embodiment of Japan's special place."
Akira Mori, Tam suddenly realized, was a closet Yamatoist, those newright-wing racist firebrands of modern Japan. Time to give her a littleheat.
"Surely nobody today seriously thinks the Emperor's forefather camedown from the skies?" She turned back to Noda. "You don't believe it,do you?"
He shrugged. "Ours is a skeptical world, Dr. Richardson. Is your popereally infallible, or did he acquire his right to be divine spokesmanby winning a small election? Nonetheless, popes and kings are likeancient tribal leaders. Despite all our modern democracy, we stillyearn for a figure to embody our identity. For the Japanese to have anemperor who, if only in legend, has blood kinship with the gods whocreated our homeland--what could be more important?"
About that time Tam glanced up and realized they were passing under alarge _torii _gate, entryway to a place that seemingly had nothing todo with the real world. Just beyond were the shrines, reminding hersomewhat of a sanitized tropical village as imagined by Hollywood. Eachof the cypress-wood buildings, set above the ground on stilts, wasarchitecture at its most primal, a study in simplicity. Their polishedwood was untouched by a speck of paint, while the foot-thick blanket ofwoven straw comprising their roofs had a creamy texture that lookedlike cheesecake. There was nothing in the world to compare.
What really made them unique, though, was something else entirely.Although the shrines were merely straw and natural wood, possessingnone of the centuries-old authority of the cathedrals of Europe, in acurious way they were actually
older, for they had been rebuilt anew every twenty years since timeimmemorial.
Suddenly the real significance of that struck her. What other peoplehad kept alive such a powerful symbol of their common heritage forcenturies and centuries? Westerners had difficulty grasping thecontinuity this shrine represented. Little wonder Noda could galvanizehis clan with some powerful new reminder of who they were. Shintowasn't a religion; there were few rules and no payoff in the sky.Instead it was the mortar binding a race.
"The main shrines over there," he continued, pointing to a collectionof buildings in an area enclosed by a high wooden fence, "are offlimits to all save the Emperor himself and certain of the priests. Thatground is the sacred link between our Emperor living now and those oftimes past. Even photographs are forbidden."
Tam noticed that many of the gables of the buildings were tipped ingold, burning amber when an occasional shaft of late sunlight reflectedoff them. Dusk was starting to settle in, and the evening birds andcrickets had begun to add their eerie sound effects. She found herselfdeeply touched. What was it about the place that inspired suchreverence? Was it the serenity? The purity?
Yes, this Shinto holy of holies possessed a secret power, theunassailable strength of nature. It moved her; how could it not?Somewhere inside she felt envy of them all, felt a yearning to sharetheir absolute sense of' who they were.
While she reflected on that, surrounded by the white gravel and goldenwoods, she found herself looking anew at Ken. Being here with him atIse made her question once again whether in his world, his austere yetdeeply passionate world, she could never be anything but a _gaijin_, anoutsider.
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