The Hero with a Thousand Faces

Since the Deity is immanent in all things, all things are to be regarded as divine, from the pots and pans of the kitchen to the Emperor: this is Shintō, “The Way of the Gods.” The Emperor being in the highest position receives the greatest reverence, but not reverence different in kind from that bestowed upon all things. “The awe-inspiring Deity manifests Itself, even in the single leaf of a tree or a delicate blade of grass.”^[16] The function of reverence in Shintō is to honor that Deity in all things; the function of purity to sustain Its manifestation in oneself — following the august model of the divine self-worship of the goddess Amaterasu. “With the unseen God who seeth all secret things in the silence, the heart of the man sincere communes from the earth below” (from a poem by the Emperor Meiji).^[17]

One of the most important and delightful of the myths of the Shintō tradition of Japan — already old when chronicled in the eighth century a.d. in the “Records of Ancient Matters” — is that of the drawing forth of the beautiful sun-goddess Amaterasu from a heavenly rock-dwelling during the critical first period of the world.

This is an example in which the rescued one is somewhat reluctant. The storm-god Susanowo, the brother of Amaterasu, had been misbehaving inexcusably. And though she had tried every means to appease him and had stretched forgiveness far beyond the limit, he continued to destroy her rice fields and to pollute her institutions. As a final insult, he broke a hole in the top of her weaving-hall and let fall through it a “heavenly piebald horse which he had flayed with a backward flaying,” at sight of which all the ladies of the goddess, who were busily weaving the august garments of the deities, were so much alarmed that they died of fear.

Amaterasu, terrified at the sight, retired into a heavenly cave, closed the door behind her, and made it fast. This was a terrible thing for her to do; for the permanent disappearance of the sun would have meant as much as the end of the universe — the end, before it had even properly begun. With her disappearance the whole plain of high heaven and all the central land of reed plains became dark. Evil spirits ran riot through the world; numerous portents of woe arose; and the voices of the myriad of deities were like unto the flies in the fifth moon as they swarmed.

Therefore the eight millions of gods assembled in a divine assembly in the bed of the tranquil river of heaven and bid one of their number, the deity named Thought-Includer, to devise a plan. As the result of their consultation, many things of divine efficacy were produced, among them a mirror, a sword, and cloth offerings. A great tree was set up and decorated with jewels; cocks were brought that they might keep up a perpetual crowing; bonfires were lit; grand liturgies were recited. The mirror, eight feet long, was tied to the middle branches of the tree. And a merry, noisy dance was performed by a young goddess called Uzume. The eight millions of divinities were so amused that their laughter filled the air, and the plain of high heaven shook.

Figure 48. Amaterasu Emerges from the Cave (woodblock print, Japan, a.d. 1860)

The sun-goddess in the cave heard the lively uproar and was amazed. She was curious to know what was going on. Slightly opening the door of the heavenly rock-dwelling, she spoke thus from within: “I thought that owing to my retirement the plain of heaven would be dark, and likewise the central land of reed plains would all be dark: how then is it that Uzume makes merry, and that likewise the eight millions of gods all laugh?” Then Uzume spoke, saying: “We rejoice and are glad because there is a deity more illustrious than Thine Augustness.” While she was thus speaking, two of the divinities pushed forward the mirror and respectfully showed it to the sun-goddess, Amaterasu; whereupon she, more and more astonished, gradually came forth from the door and gazed upon it. A powerful god took her august hand and drew her out; whereupon another stretched a rope of straw (called the shimenawa) behind her, across the entrance, saying: “Thou must not go back further in than this!” Thereupon both the plain of high heaven and the central land of reed plains again were light.^[18] The sun may now retreat, for a time, every night — as does life itself, in refreshing sleep; but by the august shimenawa she is prevented from disappearing permanently.