SILENCE Times Three
|
Endo Shusaku, author of Silence |
I’m probably guilty of overdosing on Silence in the last few weeks – the
novel by Shusaku Endo (1966), Scorsese’s new film, and then a revisit to the
1971 Japanese film version, directed by Masahiro Shinoda from a script he
co-wrote with the novel’s author.
Everyone by now is probably aware that Silence is a story of the repression of
Christianity in Japan in the early seventeenth century, and a priest who is
made to apostatise. Exposing myself to the three tellings, it
seems that the story is rather like a Rorschach test – each version very
revealing about the teller. And the endings are the most revealing of all.
Endo wrote from a very unusual perspective
– a practising Japanese Catholic . He’d studied in post-war France and was
influenced by such introspective Catholic works as Diary of a Country Priest by Georges Bernanos. The structure Endo used for Silence is interesting. An objective
prologue gives us the historical background.
Then the next near-third is made up of
letters from Father Sebastian Rodrigues, for as long as he was in a position to
write reports for his superiors in Macao. This section ends with his capture by
the soldiers of Inoue. This strategy allows us to be party to the private thoughts,
doubts, optimism, faith, fervour of Rodrigues.
The next, largest section is a third person
account, from an omnipotent narrator.
But the point of view remains with Rodrigues. This probably does not
give such an intense insight into his mind and thoughts, but keeps us focused
on his faith and conviction. After the moment when Rodrigues does apostatise
and steps on the fumie, there is a
very short chapter on the immediate consequences of this action – his virtual
house-arrest, expulsion from the mission and the priesthood, and his
rationalisation of his fall, including shifting much responsibility on
Ferreira, the priest he’d come to Japan to find.
The first half of the final chapter again
uses a “primary document” , extracts from the diary of a clerk at a Dutch
trading firm in Nagasaki which matter-of-factly lets us know of Rodrigues’
duties now to help root out emblems of Christianity (and Catholicism). Then our third person narrator returns to
tell us that Rodrigues has been given a new name by the Japanese authorities
and also the wife and family of the former bearer of that name. Somewhat, a
‘happy ever after.”
And a final appendix, extracts from the
diary of an Officer at the Christian Residence informs us objectively,
dispassionately of the death of Okada San’emon (Rodrigues), the dispersal of
his personal items and that he was cremated and buried. No emotion here at all.
How do the films end? After
the moment of apostasy in Shinoda’s version, a short scene shows us Rodrigues
being used to identify whether an object is Christian. He is then returned to
his cell, where a woman is waiting. He
falls on her as she lies on her back for him. Freeze frames of his almost
brutal kisses are intercut with a cut to Kichijiro (more of his later)
mournfully sweeping leaves in the courtyard.courtyard.
So, the implication would seem to be that
inside Rodrigues was a repressed sexual man, and the religion had impeded him
from his true desires. There is admiration for the strength he’s shown in his
convictions, but it’s probably been harmful – to him and to the people he has
tried to sway to his way of life and belief.
Scorsese follows the novel to the end, but
expands the use of Rodrigues to effectively ferret out covert Christian emblems
and objects, and then we have his death and burial. And Scorsese concludes his
film with a shot of a small Crucifix clasped in Rodrigues’ hand as he is
lowered in his coffin. Here the
Rorschach test reveals a strongly Christian/Catholic mind, that can’t accept
that such a strong faith could ever die. Given that probably only his Japanese
wife could have placed it there, perhaps he had continued to preach and
convert? At least, to her?
|
Martin Scorsese |
This
seems to betray the thrust of the story, an exploration of the full journey of
a man’s faith. Although it does illustrate Scorsese’s comments, “Silence is the story of a man who learns
– so painfully – that God’s love is more mysterious than he knows, that He
leaves much more to the ways of men than we realize, and that He is always
present...even in his silence.” ((Introduction to novel, 2016)
If you are a person of faith, then, perhaps
Scorsese’s film can work as an illustration of a person of faith. If you’re not, you do have the powerful
‘scope visuals, and a particularly effective (and appropriate) sound
design. But all the way through you’re
thinking how easy it should be for a rational person to simply step on the fumie
(perhaps with your fingers crossed) and move on. By contrast, Robert Bresson’s film of Diary of a Country Priest(1951) really
does allow you to feel the faith of
the Priest of Ambricourt, steady in the face of his tribulations. Perhaps to
the point of self-destruction, but you do ‘feel’ why he can continue in this
way.
To me (my Rorschach blot reading) one of
the most interesting characters is Kichijiro. He first helps the two priests to
land in Japan. But we learn he has already apostatised once. He still hangs around small, secret Japanese
Christian communities, he helps the priests, and he betrays them.
But even after his ‘kiss of Judas’ which
delivers Rodrigues into the hands of Inoue and his eventual apostatising,
Kichijiro still hangs around. He knows he’s a coward, but it’s clear he also
cannot escape his Christianity. If he’s threatened with some violence he wilts. He’ll deny his Christ. And then come back
into the company of other underground Christians, where he is back in danger.
His mental torment, his sense of hypocrisy but of self-preservation is
indicative of a character I’d have loved to have had more of.
|
Shinoda Masahiro
|
His representation is strongest in
Shinoda’s film – and perhaps of the three tellers, Shinoda is the one who most
understood him. His presence in the
final sequence of shots is telling.
While Rodrigues is violently enjoying the pleasures of a woman for the
first time, it is a desolate, despairing, agonising, solitary Kichijiro outside
sweeping the leaves. He betrayed the
padre, but he can’t get away from him.
And with that, I think I’ve probably had
enough Silence for a while.
Editor's Note: Shinoda's Silence has been released on DVD in Britain on the Masters of Cinema label. Details can be found if you click here.