The Broken Commandment as a Coming Out Story

Literary Criticism by Caitlin Howell
April 10, 1996 (caitlin at cs dot wisc dot edu)

The Broken Commandment is a novel by Shimazaki Toson.

It may be said that there are two ways to write a novel: keep the personalities of the characters constant, and write a novel about external conflict, or allow one or more characters to undergo a significant change, and write a novel about internal conflict. In much of the literature that we've read in class, either the conflicts are external, or internal conflicts are so subtle that they're difficult for the Western reader to grasp. I'd like to discuss the treatment of personal growth and change in an exception among Japanese literature, the novel The Broken Commandment.

In order to understand the main character, Ushimatsu, I put him in a context that was easier for me to relate to: I compared his situation to that of a homosexual in modern America. My first reaction upon reading the novel was that the author himself was homosexual, since it is known he was not an eta like the main character of the novel, and I remembered reading an article in Tokyo Journal that commented that as recently as a generation ago homosexuality was considered disgusting in many parts of Japan, including metropolitan Tokyo. I supposed that he wrote this book in order to express what he had endured as a homosexual in a format that would conceal his identity. Actually, I have no factual grounds for this supposition, and I was later disappointed to discover in class that he had been married.

I do believe, however, that Toson wrote this book to explore his own feelings, and that we see the same degree of depth in Ushimatsu's character that Toson used to look into himself. I think that Toson felt, whether it was due to homosexuality or merely the socially maladaptive ways common among writers, that he was not like other people, and used this book to describe these feelings of exclusion. There is evidence that Toson was not ideally socially adjusted: his father went insane and died by the time Toson was fourteen, (xvi) and he was raised by friends of his family. (xvii) After he graduated and became a teacher, Toson had an affair with one of his female students which led to his resignation from that school, (xviii) and his friend, the Romantic writer Kitamura Tokoku hung himself.(xviii) All of these events must have had some impact on his mental health and social development. While he was writing and soon after he completed The Broken Commandment, each of his three children died of illness.(xx) Finally, he was murdered, "according to some accounts, by a fanatical hater of the eta."(xxi)

I take this position towards Toson's motivation in writing The Broken Commandment because we don't see into the motivations of any of the characters in the novels except Ushimatsu, who is coincidentally a teacher like Toson was for most of his life. The rest of them are simple, stereotypical characters. The antagonists, Takayanagi, Bunpei and the principal, are uncompromising and hypocritical. The protagonists, Kennoshin, Ginnosuke, and O-Shio, never come into conflict with Ushimatsu. It seems that these characters are simply props for Toson to arrange in situations around his main character, Ushimatsu, so that we can see what he feels and how he reacts.

I interpret the fantastic simplifications that Toson injects into the novel as a denial of certain realities of his own situation. For example, Ushimatsu takes action in the finale of the novel, and comes out as an eta to his friends and students. For this, he is rewarded with the girl of his dreams, O-Shio, and they go off to live in America together. In Toson's real life, we can guess that he never remedies the feeling of isolation from other people that he deals with while writing The Broken Commandment, and it seems that at this point in the novel, he has discussed his problem as far as he understands it, and has come to no solution. Consequently, he tacks on an escapist ending. At some level, the surrealism of this ending expresses with irony the futility of Toson's search for fulfillment.

Regardless of what actual differences made Toson feel isolated from other people, Ushimatsu's situation mirrors that of a modern homosexual in many ways. The most important similarity is that being born a member of the eta class, as Ushimatsu was, and homosexuality are both something undesirable in the eyes of society. Depending on the person passing judgment, the reaction may vary between disappointment and revulsion. Another important similarity is that although some people claim to be able to spot eta or homosexuals, actually, both of these undesirable qualities are undetectable to the naked eye. Both qualities can be hidden, but not changed.

It is the invisibility of the eta and the homosexual that lead to one of the most powerful consequences of these conditions: guilt. This results from constantly hiding the truth from ones friends, for their own protection, and from fear of rejection. In The Broken Commandment, Ushimatsu's friends Ginnosuke and Kennoshin are constantly making excuses for his idiosyncrasies and obsession with the eta author Inoko Rentaro. They seem genuinely concerned with his well-being. In chapter 3, part 2, Ginnosuke insists that Ushimatsu's odd behavior is due to an illness, and urges him to seek help. (30) Unlike antagonistic characters in the novel, like Katsuno Bunpei, Ginnosuke's attitude towards the Ushimatsu's obsession with Rentaro seems to be one of ignorant concern rather than condemnation: "I admire his [Inoko Rentaro's] ideas myself. But to brood over other people's misfortunes as you seem to be doing, that's going too far." (35) Later in the novel, when a rumor circulates that Ushimatsu is an eta, Ginnosuke defends him vehemently.(193) The guilt that Ushimatsu feels for his dishonesty to his friends, his hero Inoko, and himself, is in my opinion the driving force of the novel, which causes Ushimatsu to confess his identity in the end.

The novel adds another similarity between these minorities: a compulsion to be true to the undesirable part of the personality. If it weren't for Ushimatsu's desire to "come clean" to his friends and students that he was an eta, there would have been no plot or conflict in the book. If Ushimatsu had been completely open to Takayanagi's offer of protection, he might have kept his eta identity a secret forever. It may be argued that Takayanagi forces Ushimatsu to reveal his identity, and Ushimatsu is a man of such character that he could not submit to Takayanagi's intimidation. However, as a politician, Takayanagi probably wouldn't have taken such an interest in Ushimatsu if he had no connections with Inoko, who became a powerful supporter of Takayanagi's opponent, and Takayanagi was forced to pay attention to Ushimatsu's identity through such an unlikely string of occurrences that it seems like Toson is trying to invent a way to externalize Ushimatsu's internal conflict.

Even the attitude of the church towards eta seems to resemble its modern counterpart towards homosexuals, if in a veiled sense. In chapter 15, section 4, the priest begins his sermon with "the fable of the clever monkey."

By studying hard, remembering what he had read, and memorizing in particular a great many sutras and other religious writings, he [the monkey] amassed enough learning to qualify him to become all men's teacher. Being an animal, though, he lacked one thing: the capacity for faith. We human beings may know far less than this monkey, but by faith - and by faith alone - even the most commonplace of men can achieve Buddhahood.(158)

Although this parable does not mention the eta class by name, another word for eta is hinin, or nonpersons.(ix) Eta were considered more animal than human. Keeping that in mind, this story can be interpreted as a reaction to Ushimatsu's life. Ushimatsu had studied his entire life to become a schoolteacher. But because he is not fully human, he is not worthy to teach others. This parable can be viewed as a prediction of the church's reaction, should they find out Ushimatsu is an eta.

The next part of the priest's sermon is a contrasting story, in which a man steps down from a high walk of life, that of a lord, to seek religious truth. Unlike those of the monkey, the priest welcomes this man's contributions to religious study. The last part of the sermon is a confirmation of the power of religion and the church: "Given faith, the commonest, the most ordinary of mortal men would attain the goal. Indeed, for them there was no other way but to abandon self and entrust their lives humbly to Amida, the Buddha of Boundless Light."(161) Not only is the church a community, which can include or ostracize Ushimatsu, but the church exercises influence over his ability to achieve enlightenment: the fate of his immortal soul.

This dilemma, whether to be true to oneself or the church, is one also faced by modern homosexuals raised as members of conservative religions. Most are forced to remain "in the closet" in order to enjoy a normal life, and must either abandon religious belief or accept God's condemnation. "Buddhists who betrayed their Master incurred nothing worse than the name of apostate; an eta who betrayed this commandment of his father's was utterly and permanently ruined. What eta who wanted to make anything of his life would be so mad as to reveal by his own choice the secret of this origin?" (38)

This view of human worth is echoed in the treatment of Ushimatsu's friend, Kennoshin. Kennoshin has an alcohol problem so severe he can hardly take care of himself or his family. "My life's been such a failure...I can't go a single day without drinking... There's a lot more to tell, if I'm going to talk of what I ought to be ashamed of..."(50) Although as the novel begins, Kennoshin remarks, "it's only the last week or two we've begun to be friends,"(26) Ushimatsu goes to offer moral support when Kennoshin pleads with the principal for early retirement. Later, Ushimatsu gives Kennoshin's youngest son tuition because Kennoshin talks of taking him out of school for financial reasons. (184) In spite of all this, and the fact that Kennoshin has sent his own daughter, the girl Ushimatsu is falling in love with, to live with the lecherous priest, Ushimatsu seems to feel nothing but sympathy and admiration for Kennoshin. "The more he heard, the more sorry Ushimatsu felt for Kennoshin. For all his down-at-heel, defeated air, there was a trace of samurai dignity about him still."(50) Ushimatsu seems to have internalized society's idea that even though Ushimatsu is just as kind a person and probably a better teacher than Kennoshin, Kennoshin is simply a better person, because Kennoshin was born into his place in society-descended from samurai-and Ushimatsu is an eta.

This same view applies to the adulterous priest who makes unwelcome advances towards O-Shio. His wife forgives his repeated infidelities. Here Ushimatsu is forced to compare himself to the undeserving priest, receiving unconditional love. This is something that Ushimatsu believes he will never have, because he is an eta, and the priest is not.

Any eta or other minority member goes through certain stages on the way to coming to terms with what sets them apart from society. These stages are not always clearly separated, and backsliding is not uncommon, but they are identifiable. The first step is realizing that you are born unlike other people. For a homosexual, this is the confusing process of "coming out to oneself." This step is different for Ushimatsu, because the most important social difference between being a member of the eta class and being a homosexual is that being an eta is a part of one's heritage, and being a homosexual is something that an individual must discover for oneself. There was a moment in Ushimatsu's life when his father explained to him for the first time that he is an eta, described in chapter 1, section 3.

When he left home for the very first time, his father, deeply concerned for his only son's future, had given him much advice. It was then that he had told him about their ancestors: how they were not descended, like the many foreign immigrants or castaways from China, Korea, Russia, and the nameless islands of the Pacific, but from runaway samurai of many generations back; that however poor they might be, their family had committed no crime, done nothing dishonorable. One thing more he added: that was the only way-the only hope-for any eta who wanted to raise himself in the world was to conceal the secret of his birth. "No matter who you meet, no matter what happens to you, never reveal it! Forget this commandment just once, in a moment of misery, and from that moment the world will have rejected you forever." Such was his father's teaching.(9-10)

This is another occurrence that seems like an artificial construct of Toson's. I find it interesting that Ushimatsu does not know he is an eta until he is a young adult. Most people who grow up in culturally different homes, including African-Americans and Jewish Americans suspect that there is something different about their family, especially if their parents take great pains to hide differences from them. Children are more perceptive than many people give them credit for. This construct makes Ushimatsu's being an eta more comparable to homosexuality, because he realizes it fully during adolescence, normally the period of sexual development and exploration. In fact, the novel tells how this self-realization coincides with Ushimatsu's becoming an adult: "...those were the days of his dreams, when it was all to easy to forget the commandment. Then suddenly he had grown up, become aware of himself."(10)

Coming out to oneself is generally followed by a period of trying to fit in with the majority, often accompanied by denial of the difference itself. Perhaps you've heard of incidences of gay men getting married for the first half of their lives. I was acquainted with an African-American girl in high school, the only one in our class of three hundred. She could often be heard making comments that played down the significance of her color, or joking about how her color resembled nothing more than a dark tan. We seem to have reached Ushimatsu in a late stage of this period. He has not been completely disinterested in eta issues, because he has been studying the eta author Inoko Rentaro's books, but as chapter 3 closes, he firmly resolves to renounce this interest and conceal his eta heritage: "...nothing could be done about the past but in the future he would have to be far more cautious... His father's commandment struck home with new force. Tell no one! ...Come what may, that one vital commandment he would never break."(38)

The next step in coming to terms with one's difference is learning about it, and becoming proud of it. It is stereotypical that Ushimatsu does this by identifying with Inoko Rentaro. It is a safe, non-confrontational way to explore his eta heritage. Many minority members begin self-exploration by studying their group's heroes. Ushimatsu is deeply affected by Inoko's work:

The fact that this fighter for the oppressed had been born an eta moved him deeply-secretly, indeed, he idolized him as a rare fellow outcast ho had pioneered a way to rise above their humiliating destiny. Inoko had inspired him to resent fiercely the irrational contempt in which all eta, human beings like anyone else, were held by society. So it was that Ushimatsu bought every book of Inoko's, read every article of his that appeared in the journals. The more he read, the more he felt himself drawn irresistibly toward a new world. His true self-awakening had begun.(11)

Inoko's writings truly transformed Ushimatsu; he made each idea personal. "Eventually Ushimatsu found himself reading with his thoughts concentrated not on Inoko's narrative, but on himself." (12)

The process of coming out, which in The Broken Commandment is the next step for Ushimatsu, always starts with a first person. For members of the homosexual community, it is a rite of passage, and an inevitable topic of "getting to know you" conversation. The encouragement or disapproval of the first people they tell, usually the most important people in their lives, greatly influences how they come to terms with their homosexuality. Ushimatsu chooses Inoko as the first person he will come out to, and spends a great deal of the novel agonizing over the time and place.

Ushimatsu's relationship with Inoko is a special one, and it would not be unreasonable to say that it has some homosexual undertones. When Inoko comes to visit Ushimatsu at his father's home, Ushimatsu seems to feel that he has found his soulmate. "Ushimatsu did not enjoy their conversation only; silence too, in such company, was an exquisite pleasure"(90) Even though Inoko is much older than Ushimatsu, he speaks to him in a comfortable, open fashion and treats him like an equal. The pair even bathes together, and take turns washing each other's backs, much to Ushimatsu's embarrassment.(99) Overall, Ushimatsu spends more time and has more physical contact with Inoko than O-Shio, the young woman who is supposed to be his love interest.

Before Ushimatsu actually comes out as an eta, he begins to stand up for himself. It becomes apparent that he no longer considers himself inferior to others. The ideas he has been absorbing from Inoko and pondering start to come out. For example, Ushimatsu gives what seems to be a response to the parable that the priest delivered about the clever monkey, in a speech to Katsuno Bunpei about Inoko Rentaro.

Katsuno says Inoko-sensei is inferior, a kind of savage. He's right, and I've been wrong from the start. Oh yes, Inoko should have stuck to his cowhides and kept his mouth shut-if he had, illness wouldn't have nearly killed him. Battling on against society like he did, regardless of his strength or health-sheer madness, wasn't it? Your cultured man has visions of a gold medal sitting proudly on his chest, so he goes in for a solid career in education and things of that sort, but pity the poor barbarian-Inoko sensei could never look to that kind of success, even in his dreams. He knew all along he'd leave no more mark than the dew on the field. He went to the battle expecting death. Isn't it pathetic, that fury of his-and maybe heroic too?(200)

Here, Ushimatsu equates Inoko's being an eta with being less than a civilized man. This speech echoes the Western enlightenment era philosophers' writings about the noble savage: a savage who lives a pure and simple life, unconcerned with politics is more noble than those of us caught up in the selfish concerns of the complex modern world. The reference to the "gold medal sitting proudly on his chest" is an attack on the principal, who the novel implies received that medal because he gave the school inspector's nephew, Bunpei, his job as a teacher.

This speech defends all of the outcasts who have stood up against the preconceptions of the majority: eta, homosexuals, racial minorities and women alike. All of these minorities pursue the same goals the majority does, knowing that it will cost them twice as much effort, and that a jealous member of the majority can snatch success away at any time. Attaining those goals has added meanings for these people: to be as successful in some way as members of the majority, and often, being one of the first of their kind to reach that goal.

At the end of this speech, Toson writes, "Anger and suffering suffused his angular, melancholy face with a new manliness."(200) A step towards coming out is a step towards growing up for Ushimatsu.

The death of Ushimatsu's father, his closest relative and the person who ordered him to conceal his eta heritage, is not compelling enough to make Ushimatsu come out. Instead of feeling free from his father's commandment, he seems glad to be one generation further from his notorious eta lineage. He seems to come to a compromise with his conscience that he will be content only to tell Inoko.

Before Ushimatsu can come out to Inoko, Inoko is killed by a stone thrown by one of Takayanagi's thugs. It is too late. This event stops Ushimatsu's agonizing, and as he weeps over the death of his friend, he has a moment of truth:

For the first time Ushimatsu realized the corrosive effect on his character, on the natural self that he had been born with, of the perpetual obsession with concealment. A life of deception, his had been up till now: of self-deception... What good did it do, the endless agonizing? I am an eta. Why should he not declare the truth, openly and boldly, to all the world? Such was the lesson of Rentaro's death.(217)

...Tomorrow he would go to school and confess the truth. To his fellow teachers, to the children. That away, they could not laugh at him afterwards; and that way, too, he would cause least trouble to his friends and colleagues. His mind was made up. Thinking of what he would say to his class, of how he would phrase his letter of resignation, he spent the night with Ichimura and the others in vigil beside the body of the dead man.

At last a cock crew. Ushimatsu sensed the approach of a new dawn.(218-219)

Toson uses Inoko's death to force the resolution of Ushimatsu's coming out. Ushimatsu could have agonized over this decision for years to come, relieving the strain of a hidden identity by sharing it with Inoko. Part of what forces Ushimatsu to this resolution is that he has come too close, in spending time with Inoko, to having the burden of the guilt of constant lies lifted from his shoulders. Now that he has glimpsed the joy of being true to oneself, he cannot go back to his life as it was.

Finally, it is time to come out. Ushimatsu tells his students that he is an eta. Years of agonizing are released in these moments; if the burden that Ushimatsu has been carrying since his adolescence is not recognized, these moments seem excessively melodramatic. "Ushimatsu's arms and legs trembled violently."(229) "Ushimatsu, on the verge of hysteria, was kneeling abjectly to his colleagues; he bowed his forehead to the floor, burying his shame in the dust and dirt."(230) To be consistent with his self-righteousness of a few minutes ago, I suppose that Ushimatsu was unaware of his appearance; he was probably caught up in a feeling of emotional freedom that he hadn't known since childhood, not an overwhelming feeling of wretchedness.

After Ushimatsu comes out, The Broken Commandment draws quickly to a close. It is arranged that O-Shio will go with Ushimatsu to Texas to start a new life. This seems like an easy way to clean up the extremely messy business of reintegrating Ushimatsu into the community with his new identity. The sudden integration of O-Shio into the plot also seems forced.

Throughout the novel, Ushimatsu seems to think of O-Shio more as a daughter than a sexual object. He reacts to the news about the priest's advances towards her with a protective attitude rather than a jealous one. He pays her brother's tuition, which is more of a fatherly thing to do. He never thinks about her in a physical sense, and he knows very little about her personality. In a scene where Ginnosuke is trying to get Ushimatsu to talk about what is troubling him, he says, "There was a girl. But- She's dead."(205) I think that this indicates that Ushimatsu realizes that his relationship with O-Shio is and always will be fantasy. This may be a mental barrier he has put in place to protect himself. He seems incapable of imagining her in a real, physical sense. Ginnosuke later claims that he meant this only because of his eta secret, but this seems to be another superficial plot construction existing only to create a happy ending.

As Ushimatsu and O-Shio go off to Texas together, I wonder if O-Shio is going more out of desire for escape than any real desire for Ushimatsu. Their desire seems to have sprung more out of romanticizing their unusual situation than from a real connection, like the one that existed between Ushimatsu and Inoko. The whole superficial nature of their relationship points back to the possibility of the existence of homosexual undertones in this novel.

In conclusion, I think that by comparing the situation of the eta to that of minorities in modern America that I can better relate to, I gained a deeper understanding of the motivations and messages of the novel. The Broken Commandment can be reinterpreted as a coming out story for anybody that has a reason to feel isolated from other people. Some of the mechanisms Toson used to move the plot were unbelievable enough that they detract from the novel, but overall, I thought it was an effective sketch of the thoughts and feelings of the individual in the process of coming out.


caitlin at cs dot wisc dot edu

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