Animism in Japan and the Ghosts of Things
Francesco Baldessari
I've always known that Japanese people are animists, but I never really thought about it until a simple incident changed my entire perspective.
I was with some Japanese friends when I noticed one of them scribbling on a chalkboard. I looked to see what it was and noticed it was a one-eyed umbrella. But it walked on two legs.
I asked her about it and Jun replied that it was the ghost of a broken umbrella.
"What do you mean the ghost of a broken umbrella?"
She laughed and sketched another ghost. This time it was the ghost of a broken red lantern. She even added a gory detail. The lantern was protruding by a hand-sized tongue, which was being pierced by a red-hot blade. I didn't know it at the time, but this was one of the classic ways in which the ghost of a lantern is depicted. I think it probably deserves this punishment for its association with alcohol and red lights. I'm not kidding. That's how animism works.
The light began to make its way into my head. Apparently, objects have a soul, if you break them, you "kill" them . By killing them, you turn them into ghosts, pissed off at you because you are the primary cause of their misfortunes.
This event had a tremendous effect on me, because for the first time it forced me to face the reality of animism in Japan. In hindsight, I realize that I had encountered animism many times before, but that I had always interpreted it as something else, because I lacked the tools to interpret it correctly. The importance of this particular event is that it could not be interpreted in any other way. It forced me to see.
Have you ever noticed a new name in a newspaper, say that of a German writer, only to see it several times a day soon after?
That's what happened to me in this case. Since then, animism has been an almost daily experience.
Some time later, I was talking to a friend, when she told me that she had thrown away some of her daughter's dolls. Before throwing them away, she had blindfolded them as her mother had taught her.
I immediately blurted out: “What, what, blindfolded? And why?”
Aki had never wondered. She was just doing what her mother had taught her. But she assumed it was because the dolls couldn't get home. For the record, some time later, I told a Chinese friend about the event (the Chinese are animists too) who told me that, in her opinion, it was so the dolls wouldn't see who was throwing them away.
I am a rationalist to the bitter end. The only thing I believe in is methodical doubt. In some ways, I am the least suited person to live among animists.
The problem is that these animists are people I know well, people I love. So I set out to learn about animism, Japanese in particular. I discovered that it is a complex phenomenon with unexpected and very important implications. It is a phenomenon that is superficially fascinating and with a touch of comedy.
In reality, it is, in my opinion, a horrible yoke that castrates the mind and imagination. Although it alone is not able to block the growth of a nation (China is proof of this), it causes the suffering of many millions of people without a plausible reason.
In Japan, both known and unknown wear hats to keep their thoughts warm. Hats appear in December and are removed in March.
Continues...
Francesco Baldessari>/p>
