Feminist Analysis of Princess Mononoke's Lady Eboshi

Lady Eboshi’s Tragedy: An Feminist Analysis of Hayao Miyazaki’s Princess Mononoke

Princess Mononoke (もののけ姫 Mononoke-hime), an animated film directed by Hayao Miyazaki, was met with wide critical acclaim and tremendous box-office success upon its 1997 release – it was the first animated film to win the Japan Academy Prize for Best Picture and was the highest-grossing Japanese film of the year – for good reason. With a captivating storyline, memorable characters, and breathtaking illustrations, Princess Mononoke has become a staple in the canon of Hayao Miyazaki’s iconic filmography. Aside from but perhaps contributing to the film’s success are its overt environmental and feminist themes; the film’s conflict revolves around a complex tension between humanity and nature and notably centers on two strong female characters who reject traditional patriarchal expectations (one of whom is Lady Eboshi, who will be the main topic of this essay). The aim of this paper is to use a feminist lens to analyse Princess Mononoke, especially its portrayal of Lady Eboshi, with the intent of discerning the techniques used by Miyazaki in conveying his version of feminism, but also to critique the film’s portrayal of women and assess if and where Miyazaki’s feminism falls flat, deferring to hegemonic patriarchical ideology rather than subverting it.

The film itself takes place in a world of Shinto-inspired animal gods who reside in and protect their forest homes from human incursion; the film begins with Ashitaka, the male protagonist, defending his village from a monstrous demon that comes from an outside forest. Ashitaka kills it, saving his village, and it is later discovered that the demon had originally been an animal god, a giant boar named Nago. It had been possessed by vengeful hatred after being shot in the heart with an iron bullet and turned itself from a god into a rampaging demon. In his fight with the demon, Ashitaka is left with a curse, visually represented by a dark wound on his right arm, which will slowly kill him. He is sent out from his remote village, seeking the source of the iron bullet which destroyed Nago’s spirit and hoping to find a cure for his curse. He eventually hears of a faraway city called Tatara, or Irontown, where humans are deforesting and polluting the landscape in order to extract iron from the surrounding mountains and produce weaponry. Ashitaka also learns of a Great Forest Spirit who has powers over life and death and resides in the forests near Irontown; hoping to have his curse healed by the Forest Spirit and in search of answers about the demon that attacked his village, he sets off on a journey to this town. The rest of the film centers on the conflicts between the people of Irontown and the surrounding natural world.

Lady Eboshi is the bold female leader of Irontown, unafraid of the forest gods and determined to further human progress at the expense of nature; however, Eboshi is presented as a complex character, one that is difficult to characterize as either purely good or evil. Despite her heavy disdain for the natural world (it was she who shot Nago with the iron bullet), she has become the steadfast leader and protector of the people of Irontown. Eboshi is loved especially by the town’s women, who used to be exploited brothel workers until Eboshi bought out their contracts and gave them new lives working the bellows at the ironworks.

As the leader of Irontown, Eboshi embraces a masculine approach to leadership which comes into conflict with typical, patriarchal gender expectations and her own feminine identity. In some ways, she represents a new and liberatory vision of female leadership; she defies the expectations imposed on her by patriarchal society and constantly looks towards furthering human progress and development. However, this has the consequence of creating an internal tension for Eboshi, as she struggles to uphold her female identity while having the need to play a “masculine” role in her community. Her internal conflict is represented externally through her visual appearance; Eboshi appears unambiguously female – she wears lipstick and has clearly feminine facial features – but her style of dress is conservative and even masculine. She wears a dark red kimono and black pants, covered by a dark cloak and usually topped with a red eboshi (a traditional Japanese hat) from which she gets her name. Her outward appearance is perpetually confident and conveys the sense of a strong but emotionally distant leader which is usually associated with masculinity. Underneath her hat, though, Eboshi wears her hair tied with a small, pink ribbon; this minute, feminine detail of her mostly masculine wardrobe symbolizes Eboshi’s subdued and perhaps repressed femininity, especially since she rarely removes her hat except in the presence of those she trusts, such as the women of Irontown. As Sierra et al point out, “[i]n many ways she [Lady Eboshi] is at war with her own self... as she tries to maintain a leadership position in the face of… ideals that value men and masculinity as superior.” In what appears to be an attempt to “compensate” for being female, Eboshi maintains an unfalteringly confident and determined leadership style, keeping her more compassionate side hidden. This can be seen in her caring but paternalistic attitude towards the women of Irontown – her “girls,” as Eboshi frequently calls them. Although the women are very content with their lives under Eboshi, they are kept in “domestic” roles, left to tend the bellows while the men of the town are expected to frequently leave to mine for iron. When a military conflict arises and the men of Irontown are sent out to fight, Eboshi justifies keeping her “girls” inside the town, despite claiming that the women were better with guns than the men, by telling them that “Jigo’s riflemen [a small band of elite soldiers with whom Irontown has a tentative alliance] may turn on us, and if that happens, I’ll need every one of you here to fight them. Remember, you can’t trust men.” Eboshi clearly cares for the well-being of her “girls” and Irontown as a whole, but although she appears to nod to feminist ideals by deprecating men and their untrustworthiness, in reality she does little more than reinforce patriarchical ideology by assigning women to roles they are “best suited for” and limiting their agency as free individuals.

The irony of Lady Eboshi’s effort to break free of gender norms while perpetuating them herself is a subtle one, but when analyzing the film with a feminist lens, contradictions like these suggest Lady Eboshi may not be as radical and liberatory of a female character as it may seem at first glance. Instead, according to Sierra et al, Eboshi more closely resembles the Natural Disaster Heroine. According to Cynthia Belmont, who coined the term, Natural Disaster Heroines are “modern women,” often in positions of power or at the cutting edge of technological progress and filling roles typically held by men. However, Belmont writes, these heroines are almost invariably “punished” for their rejection of the patriarchal order and ultimately revert to their “place” as subdued, domesticated women. Although the term was originally conceived with Hollywood disaster films in mind, the idea of the Natural Disaster Woman is applicable to Lady Eboshi as well. Her status as such can be identified by Eboshi’s interactions with men – some in their own positions of power – as well as the trajectory of the film’s plot.

In one scene, shortly after his arrival to Irontown, Ashitaka is eating dinner with some of the town’s men when a group of Irontown women comes over to get a look at the “mysterious stranger”. The women playfully flirt with Ashitaka for a moment before a few of the men interject with statements like “Hey, quiet out there!” and “There’s plenty of gorgeous men in here, honey!” To this, one woman replies, “I’ve seen cattle that look better!” The women, laughing, leave shortly afterwards. After the women have left, one man tells Ashitaka, “It’s best not to pay them any mind, you know; Lady Eboshi spoils them rotten, that’s why they’re like that,” to which another adds, “Women like that? It’s a disgrace! They defile the iron!” Two more men interject, saying “Everything really has turned upside-down since she showed up!” and “She isn’t even afraid of the gods, that woman!” While the entire exchange between the men and women is tremendously revealing about the gender dynamic in Irontown, the two last statements do a good job of distilling the sentiments held by the town’s men towards Eboshi. Although many of the men who were present didn’t share the overtly misogynistic views that some others expressed – plenty laughed along at the exchange between the women and the angry men, and a handful spoke in defense of Eboshi – the underlying consensus among the men was that Eboshi was going against the “natural” order of things. While the film doesn’t explicitly label Eboshi’s diversion from the norms as a bad thing per se, it does reinforce a notion that something “unnatural” is at play under Eboshi’s leadership – a sentiment which is justified by the end of the film.

Another revealing interaction that Eboshi has is the one she has with Jigo, an opportunistic man who has been offered a large sum of money by the Emperor (who never appears in the film but is referred to occasionally) in exchange for the head of the Great Forest Spirit. Eboshi takes care to maintain her confident, masculine persona around him because she knows not to trust a man with motives as unpredictable as his, but she nonetheless has no choice but to cooperate with him – Jigo had come to Irontown with a troop of skilled soldiers and riflemen to assist Eboshi’s forces in fending off an invasion from the samurai army of Lord Hisano, who had hoped to take Irontown himself. For Eboshi, failure to cooperate with Jigo could mean betrayal.

Near the climax of the film, when it comes time to kill the Forest Spirit, Eboshi adopts a courageous, even arrogant attitude, telling Jigo and his riflemen, “Now watch closely, everyone. I’m going to show you how to kill a god – a god of life and death. The trick is not to fear him.” The men exchange uncertain glances with each other and appear relieved that Lady Eboshi is doing the work for them; when she kills it, shooting its head off, a black sludge emerges from the Forest Spirit’s body, killing everything it touches. As the Forest Spirit’s sludge spills forth into the landscape, it turns the once-lush forest landscape into a wasteland. This apocalyptic event has an obvious environmentalist subtext, conveyed heavily through imagery. While the forest had been depicted throughout the beginning of the film as a sublime spectacle of nature, glistening with leaf-filtered sunlight in detailed, sweeping shots, the Forest Spirit’s death causes the majestic trees to instantly blacken and wither away. This disaster, of course, is attributed to Eboshi’s arrogance; despite her efforts to break free of gender norms, she was manipulated by men into doing their bidding and ultimately suffers dire consequences for it. She loses her right arm in the aftermath of the Spirit’s death and is reduced, powerless, to a damsel in distress. As Sierra et al write, “[Lady Eboshi] must go on in a way that completely contradicts her character from the beginning of the film, being punished for behaving in an unwomanly fashion and for her pursuit of technology at the expense of nature.” Although Eboshi appears to be a strong, unconventional female role model, by the end of the film she is far removed from her once-radical character. It seems that although Miyazaki created the film with the intent of championing a modern, feminist impression on viewers, the feminism of Eboshi is ultimately eclipsed by unchecked, unacknowledged patriarchical ideology which is suspicious of and averse to women in positions of power.

Along with Lady Eboshi is another strong female character; however, the two women are complete opposites aside from the fact that neither takes on the role of the traditional, passive female. San (also called Princess Mononoke) is a young woman who has been raised by wolves since she was an infant; having watched humans desecrate her forest home her entire life, she has learned to distrust and even hate humans. Much as Eboshi embodies the “modern woman” and is a symbol of human development, San embodies “feminine” nature; she is wild, untamed, and dangerous – “mother” nature herself (Stearney). When examining the film through an ecofeminist lens, San’s status as a wild, uncivilized woman is of great interest; also worth noting is her relationship with Ashitaka, as she becomes his love interest early in the film. Like Eboshi, San struggles, as a strong female character, to resist the male urge to dominate. This is demonstrated no clearer than in a scene where San breaks into Irontown with the intent of assassinating Lady Eboshi; after fighting her way past the town’s male guards and soldiers, San and Eboshi become locked in an intense knife-wielding duel in the middle of the town square. The scene alternates between close-up shots of San and Eboshi slashing their blades at each other, the metal glinting and whistling through the air with each swipe, and overhead shots of the fight, showing the two women surrounded by a circle of hostile Irontown residents, ready to support their Lady against the outsider. At the sight of the womens’ fight, Ashitaka becomes furious – ostensibly out of his desire to protect San; his curse mark, which provides him with superhuman strength, begins to writhe and swell. His arm emits dark, swirling tendrils as he marches past the townspeople, casually pushing them aside until he reaches the center of the circle where the women are still locked in mortal combat. With total self-assuredness, Ashitaka instantly disables both women – he tightly grabs San’s wrist and locks blades wish Eboshi. Eboshi smugly asks, “What do you think you’re doing, boy?” Ashitaka responds, “Stay your hand. The girl’s life is now mine.” San bites Ashitaka’s arm out of desperation, prompting Eboshi to quip, “I’m sure she’ll make a lovely wife for you.” Shortly afterwards, the tendrils re-emerge from Ashitaka’s arm, shocking the spectators, terrifying San and giving Eboshi a chance to strike at Ashitaka. He dodges her attack, though, and rams the hilt of his blade into Eboshi’s stomach, knocking her unconscious, and slings her over his shoulder. San tries to break free from Ashitaka’s grasp but is similarly disabled by Ashitaka’s hilt. He hands an unconscious Lady Eboshi back to her people and leaves Irontown with San slumped over his shoulder.

The impact of such a humiliating defeat for these women is double; it represents a victory of the male “hero” over antagonizing women like Eboshi, but also celebrates a domination of man over nature. San, the wild girl, has been “tamed” by Ashitaka, the stoic and powerful hero. Some might claim that, because it featured two women in combat, a strongly male-designated activity, this scene “demonstrates the way in which neither woman suppresses their anger for the sake of maintaining ideals of gentle femininity… [and] provides space for [Miyazaki’s] main female characters to behave unreservedly and to act on their emotions regardless of intensity.” (Vernon) However, the film is completely uncritical of Ashitaka’s violent actions; a truly feminist film would not so easily let its strong female characters be subdued, or at the very least would make a comment on the nature of patriarchal violence against women. But instead, the film consistently makes San into a wild object to be conquered and Eboshi a spiteful, if not wholly evil, adversary.

In the final scene, the Forest Spirit’s head is returned to its body but it dies, its giant figure falling from the top of a mountain onto Irontown below. Irontown is destroyed, the whole town blown into the air by powerful wind, and the mountains, turned black both by mining and the disaster with the Forest Spirit, slowly begin to see vegetation re-emerge. We see Eboshi, recovering from her arm injury, sitting before her townspeople. She pledges, “This time, we’ll start all over again. We’re going to build a better town.” While in many ways this is a heartwarming ending, albeit with some dissonance (the Forest Spirit is dead and things can never truly be the same), there is an additional conclusion that the film reaches. Lady Eboshi’s concession to her people indicates the abandonment of her masculine powers and her resistance to gender expectations. The environmentalist message of the film, emphasizing sustainability, harmony with nature and so on, coincides with an anti-feminist subtext which subtly argues that women ought not to resist patriarchal expectations.

While the intent of the film Princess Mononoke was to spur discussion around and passion for environmental issues as well as feminist ones, it nonetheless maintains dominant patriarchal ideology without questioning its fundamental beliefs. It prizes masculine leadership styles and is suspicious of women in positions of power; it revels in spunky, bold women but nonetheless keeps most of them relegated to domestic roles; it gives freedom for women to be wild, individualistic, and even feral, but does not criticize the masculine urge to dominate. Miyazaki did create a cinematographic masterpiece with Princess Mononoke; it is undoubtedly a fantastic film in nearly every possible respect, but fails with regards to creating a tenable feminist vision and opposing patriarchical hegemony.

Bibliography

Belmont, Cynthia. “Ecofeminism and the Natural Disaster Heroine.” Women's Studies, vol. 36, no. 5, 2007, pp. 349-372. Taylor & Francis Online.

Hurley, Karen. “Is that a future we want? An ecofeminist exploration of images of the future in contemporary film.” Futures, vol. 40, no. 4, 2008, pp. 346-359. ScienceDirect.

Mumcu, S.; Yılmaz, S. Anime Landscapes as a Tool for Analyzing the Human–Environment Relationship: Hayao Miyazaki Films. Arts 2018, 7, 16.

Sierra, Wendi, et al. “Nature, Technology, and Ruined Women: Ecofeminism and Princess Mononoke.” Seneca Falls Dialogues Journal, vol. 1, 2015.

Stearney, Lynn M. “Feminism, ecofeminism, and the maternal archetype: Motherhood as a feminine universal.” Communication Quarterly, vol. 42, no. 2, 1994, pp. 145-159.

Vernon, Alice. "Beyond Girlhood in Ghibli: Mapping Heroine Development against the Adult Woman Anti-hero in Princess Mononoke." Princess Mononoke: Understanding Studio Ghibli’s Monster Princess. By Rayna Denison. London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2017. 115–130. Bloomsbury Collections. Web. 19 Nov. 2020.