“The Sad Tale of the Principal Post” (year unknown)
“The Enigma of the Amigara Fault” (year unknown)
Junji Ito
2015 (Gyo Deluxe Edition)
Viz Media
“The Enigma of the Amigara Fault” (year unknown)
Junji Ito
2015 (Gyo Deluxe Edition)
Viz Media
Junji Ito, acclaimed horror manga creator, was recently revealed to have been consulted in co-creating the world of Silent Hills, the reboot/sequel to the Silent Hill video-game franchise that no longer is. It both brings joy to me knowing that he was involved with the project, as well as a great sadness, for Silent Hills is no longer in production and has been scrapped due to a falling out between the video game publisher Konami and game developer/director Hideo Kojima (Metal Gear franchise), who was spearheading the project.
Aside from this upsetting tidbit of info, today’s focus
is on two short comics published in various capacities, particularly in the Gyo (2002) deluxe edition that was
released earlier this year. The first story, “The Sad Tale of the Principal
Post,” features an exceptionally bizarre occurrence, for which there is no
escape from for the characters in this four-page tale. The second short, “The
Enigma of the Amigara Fault,” was my first foray into Ito’s work, and still
creeps me out upon each reread. I recall vividly the night I was first reading
“Amigara”: my brother had told me that I had to read this comic he just read,
and that I had to do it in the dark. He didn’t have a physical copy, but the version I read is here (remember to read right to left!). Not only is the premise of “Amigara” surreal and
absurd, but it captures the horror of claustrophobia so well that even those
who aren’t fearful of tight spaces will become uneasy after reading it.
Those familiar with the twentieth century American Horror author H.P. Lovecraft will notice an obvious influence on Ito’s work. Both stories carry the same impending doom that most of Lovecraft’s work does, specifically involving the theme of the inevitability of death. In some cases there is no running away from the horror in our lives, be it whatever that may be, and Ito expresses this in all of his works clearly. Oftentimes Ito will imbue subtexts into his stories dealing with some such critique of a social issue or analysis of human behaviour. This is most prominent in “The Enigma of the Amigara Fault,” as well as his longer serialized works including Gyo (2002; Japanese for “Fish”) and Uzumaki (1999; Japanese for “Spiral”).
Without further ado, the stories...
Those familiar with the twentieth century American Horror author H.P. Lovecraft will notice an obvious influence on Ito’s work. Both stories carry the same impending doom that most of Lovecraft’s work does, specifically involving the theme of the inevitability of death. In some cases there is no running away from the horror in our lives, be it whatever that may be, and Ito expresses this in all of his works clearly. Oftentimes Ito will imbue subtexts into his stories dealing with some such critique of a social issue or analysis of human behaviour. This is most prominent in “The Enigma of the Amigara Fault,” as well as his longer serialized works including Gyo (2002; Japanese for “Fish”) and Uzumaki (1999; Japanese for “Spiral”).
Without further ado, the stories...
***In case you missed it, here's the link for the short 30-page "The Enigma of the Amigara Fault." ***
***SPOILERS BELOW!***
The Sad Tale of the Principal Post
“The Sad Tale of the Principal Post” is simultaneously simple and straight forward, yet complex and enigmatic. An unnamed family has just finished building their new home and are entertaining guests to celebrate. A male guest notices that the father/husband of the family isn’t celebrating with them, and so makes an inquiry as to his whereabouts. Immediately after asking this, screams are heard coming from somewhere within the house. After exploring the house, everyone finds the father/husband trapped underneath the principal post of the house, located in the crawl space beneath the floorboards. The wife/mother asks the obvious question that’s on both the characters’ and readers’ minds: Just how in the hell did he become trapped underneath the post? The father/husband insists that no one rescue him, as if he moves the house will cave in and all their hard working building it would have been for nothing. The story concludes with an image of the father, now an exquisite corpse, rotting underneath the post with some incense and burial offerings: “He still remains under the principal post… …And now no one will ever know how he ended up getting underneath it.”
How did the father/husband
manage to find himself in that situation? The only understanding offered by the
husband during this excursion when asked about the why of the situation is that
“It’s a long story…” He dies before giving an account of his misfortune.
Does asking this question really impact how we understand this story? I argue that it’s irrelevant, as even going so far as to create a theory about how he wound up underneath the post skirts around what it really going on in “The Sad Tale of the Principal Post”: nothing. Whether Ito set out with the intention of creating a short story with no “satisfying” resolution is a mystery, but either way it’s what he accomplished. “The Sad Tale” is really a perfect horror short, as the mystery lingers on endlessly after the final panel, leaving the reader in the dark with no hope of finding out why or how the father/husband came to be in this circumstance. The reveal of the big mystery in horror stories has become so commonplace in American comics and other storytelling mediums. This ultimately ruins the horror and fear that many stories originally set out to instill, as what makes any horror tale especially terrifying is that there is something unknowable, something with which the characters cannot overcome or triumph over.
There is an existentialist subtext at play here: we die, and that’s that. We long for what the answers of life and death are, and what the meaning of our existence is, yet we refuse to accept the notion that perhaps it’s all meaningless, that there aren’t any answers. Life and death just are. It’s not any more complicated than that, yet we constantly feel the need to keep asking questions and finding “answers” in various doctrines to tide ourselves over for the time being, meanwhile we bury the fear of meaningless and nothingness deeper inside ourselves, pretending and hoping that what we now look up to will “save” us. There is nothing to save anyone in Ito’s work, and he communicates this well with the predicament in “The Sad Tale.” Ito suggests (indirectly) that rather than saving ourselves from or avoiding the negative and uncomfortable, we need to embrace it. That’s the only way to keep our sanity and make the best of our time alive. Ito’s work is a playground for nihilists and existentialists, and “The Enigma of the Amigara Fault” only amps up what he accomplishes in “The Sad Tale of the Principal Post.”
Does asking this question really impact how we understand this story? I argue that it’s irrelevant, as even going so far as to create a theory about how he wound up underneath the post skirts around what it really going on in “The Sad Tale of the Principal Post”: nothing. Whether Ito set out with the intention of creating a short story with no “satisfying” resolution is a mystery, but either way it’s what he accomplished. “The Sad Tale” is really a perfect horror short, as the mystery lingers on endlessly after the final panel, leaving the reader in the dark with no hope of finding out why or how the father/husband came to be in this circumstance. The reveal of the big mystery in horror stories has become so commonplace in American comics and other storytelling mediums. This ultimately ruins the horror and fear that many stories originally set out to instill, as what makes any horror tale especially terrifying is that there is something unknowable, something with which the characters cannot overcome or triumph over.
There is an existentialist subtext at play here: we die, and that’s that. We long for what the answers of life and death are, and what the meaning of our existence is, yet we refuse to accept the notion that perhaps it’s all meaningless, that there aren’t any answers. Life and death just are. It’s not any more complicated than that, yet we constantly feel the need to keep asking questions and finding “answers” in various doctrines to tide ourselves over for the time being, meanwhile we bury the fear of meaningless and nothingness deeper inside ourselves, pretending and hoping that what we now look up to will “save” us. There is nothing to save anyone in Ito’s work, and he communicates this well with the predicament in “The Sad Tale.” Ito suggests (indirectly) that rather than saving ourselves from or avoiding the negative and uncomfortable, we need to embrace it. That’s the only way to keep our sanity and make the best of our time alive. Ito’s work is a playground for nihilists and existentialists, and “The Enigma of the Amigara Fault” only amps up what he accomplishes in “The Sad Tale of the Principal Post.”
The Enigma of the Amigara Fault
“The Enigma of the Amigara Fault” follows a young man
named Owaki who heard about a fault line that opened up after a recent
earthquake at Amigara Mountain. Claiming that they saw the horror on T.V.,
Owaki meets Yoshida, a young woman who is also curious about what she saw
existing at the Amigara Fault. Upon further inspection, the two finally find
the fault, revealing the horror to be many body cut-outs in the side of the
mountain. What’s unsettling about this discovery is that there is a cut-out for
each and every person, and for some unexplainable reason, once someone
discovers their cut-out, they can’t resist exploring it.
Two aspects of the story strike a particular chord with me, although on the surface they don’t seem to be the most terrifying elements. The first is the notion of the T.V. and its presence within the story: there aren’t any T.V.’s physically present, it exists only insofar as the few times it’s mentioned by Yoshida, Owaki, and Nakagaki. The second are the dreams that Owaki has and the effect they have on his interpretation of the holes and what they represent.
Two aspects of the story strike a particular chord with me, although on the surface they don’t seem to be the most terrifying elements. The first is the notion of the T.V. and its presence within the story: there aren’t any T.V.’s physically present, it exists only insofar as the few times it’s mentioned by Yoshida, Owaki, and Nakagaki. The second are the dreams that Owaki has and the effect they have on his interpretation of the holes and what they represent.
What makes the T.V. such a scary force in “The Enigma of
the Amigara Fault” is just how powerful and controlling it really is, despite
it barely being mentioned. Owaki and Yoshida bond over their experiences of
watching the news on T.V. which informed them of the elusive fault line. They
both, along with Nakagaki and presumably all the other people who have flocked
to the Amigara Fault, saw the horrors on television. If it weren’t for
television, they presumably would have heard about the fault on the radio, in a
newspaper, the internet, etc. Aside from that detail, the television has been
known to be a perfect instrument for mind control and power politics for decades.
This is nothing new, however it’s this brief mention that I find so terrifying,
perhaps even moreso than the mystery of the holes themselves. So because the
characters saw the fault on T.V., they just had to visit it? Besides crafting a
creepy mystery, Ito is also subtly raising awareness of how we take in
information and how we conform based on what we are told by big corporations
and the media. This is horror of a different magnitude, and in the end Ito
suggests that if we listen to what we see and hear on T.V. to be the truth, we
will experience our own demise sooner or later.
In regards to the dreams Owaki has, there is a
correlation between them and the horrors of the T.V. In his first dream, Owaki
claims that he was Nakagaki, in which he is venturing into his hole. Nakagaki
(Owaki) becomes stuck inside the hole and panics. Owaki awakens, relieved that
this fate is not his own. What’s interesting is that insofar as the panels are
presented, they aren’t from a first-person perspective; they are from an
outsider’s point-of-view, watching Nakagaki as he makes his descent into the
mountain. Why this is intriguing is because it represents the viewer (separate
from the T.V.) and the subject (part of the T.V.); in this case, Owaki is the
viewer and Nakagaki is the subject. This dream, along with the second one,
speaks to the nature of vicariousness imbued in our consumption of media on the
T.V.; we have no problem watching people suffer, so long as it’s projected at
us through cathode rays and not direct experience. Even in his dreams, Owaki is
haunted by the force of the T.V.; there is no escape from its clutches.
The second dream features Owaki in a distant time period;
which period exactly isn’t stated, however it’s certainly pre-Industrial
Revolution. Owaki, along with many other men, are being forced to enter the
holes in the fault line for undisclosed crimes. He says that the holes were dug
by men themselves and that they’re considered the worst form of punishment; the
holes are reserved only for the worst criminals. Owaki enters it, only to have
his limbs stretch and pull the farther he ventures onward. The holes are a
metaphor for having no control over oneself, for being trapped and confined,
with no hope for escape. This idea reflects the same notion of the control and
power the T.V. has on its viewers. Many regular consumers of television are not
even aware that they are being controlled while watching it, remaining
oblivious to the excessive advertisements and subliminal messages telling you
how to be, act, dress, think, feel, etc. The holes are telling its victims how
to think and feel in a far simpler and noncomplex way, however Ito’s use of
this power dynamic triggered by the T.V. should not go unnoticed in your
reading of “The Enigma of the Amigara Fault.”
Junji Ito isn’t shy about critiquing human culture and
behaviour, although you can readily enjoy his work without engaging in these
subtexts. Subtexts aside, “The Sad Tale of the Principal Post” and “The Enigma
of the Amigara Fault” pose disturbing and uncomfortable predicaments upon their characters, which make for unsettling experiences for the reader. Ito wears his
Lovecraftian influences on his sleeve, so if you’re into supernatural and weird
horror, then Ito’s work is for you. Alternatively, for those interested in
horror with substance and something to say, you will also not be dissatisfied.
There’s something for all horror fans in Ito’s oeuvre, and I recommend him to
everyone.