Lose the body: The visual rhetoric of Cosmology of Kyoto. Presented at the annual meeting of the Speech Communication Association, 1996, San Diego.

Transcription

1 Lose the body: The visual rhetoric of Cosmology of Kyoto. Presented at the annual meeting of the Speech Communication Association, 1996, San Diego.

2 The body is a central concern of much contemporary writing about cyberspace and virtual reality; within the context of computer-mediated reality, one can move through virtual space as if disembodied, appear to others in a wholly invented guise (or lurk, electing to remain invisible), or touch virtual companions with the click of a mouse (see, for example, Bukatman, 1993; Heim, 1993; Lipton, 1996). This context offers an ideal environment for explorations into the cultural meaning of the body, for within this context, the body and its attributes are not taken for granted but are constructed symbolically. This paper explores the way in which an interactive multi-media CD-ROM, Cosmology of Kyoto, exploits the computer-mediated context to allow players to experience the body from the perspective of Heian-period Japanese Buddhism. The Buddhism of the time (expressed in the CD-ROM in two forms, the esoteric school of Kukai and the Pure Land school of Kuya) stressed the value of detaching oneself from bodily concerns (the body is not evil but is a major obstacle in overcoming suffering). The CD-ROM uses the visual imagery of sex, death, and reincarnation (images drawn largely from extant Buddhist picture scrolls), combined with the logic of interactivity, to enforce these themes. To this extent, the CD-ROM is a continuation of Japanese Buddhist practice, associated most strongly with Kukai (see Hakeda, 1972), of employing visual means to express concepts that cannot be grasped through the intellect alone. Indeed, despite the non-sectarian origin of the CD-ROM, it is successful not only in 2

3 displaying the ideas of Heian-era Buddhism, but in promoting a greater intuitive feel for those ideas. This paper identifies two basic modes through which Cosmology works its effects. The first mode is narrative. Parallel, conflicting spatial and spiritual journeys inscribed in the game confound the conventions of computer roleplaying adventures. Unlike normal games that feature attempts to preserve and develop the body (increasing levels and the like), in Cosmology the player needs to die in order to experience progress. The second mode is more purely visual, and itself takes two forms. First, there is a focus on the represented body of the player, subjected to graphic violence and reincarnation. Second, there is a focus on attractive female bodies; subverting the conventions of cybersex, touching these bodies leads to disastrous consequences. Each of these modes operates to allow the experience of a Buddhist perspective on the body 1. The spatial and spiritual journeys of Cosmology of Kyoto. Cosmology of Kyoto was developed as a bilingual program (English and Japanese) by Yano Electric Company and published in Marketed within the context of the computer game, it shares a great deal in common with the best-selling Myst, especially in terms of the texture of the game experience it provides (see Miles, 1996). The player roams the physical layout of Heiankyo circa the year 1000, initially without a clear sense of purpose, encountering the 3

4 denizens of historical Kyoto (beggars, Yin-Yang magicians, Buddhist priests), witnessing odd scenes (a flying kimono and a man turning into a pot, among others), and collecting items (money, a sword, a sutra). The graphics, which have been compared to the illustrations of a fine children s book, combine photorealistic effects (in the case of the landscape) with cartoonish simplification (in the case of the denizens); they also quote extensively from historical Japanese art. Interaction with denizens is possible, limited for the most part to yes/no responses to their questions. An ambient soundtrack provides a sense of atmosphere and specific environmental sounds (looped marketplace chants, a bell tolling, a running river) appear and disappear, based on one s location and orientation. While not immersive in the sense of virtual reality, the raw experience is vivid and compelling. The atmosphere of the game is gloomy and threatening. The game is set at night and corpses, demons, and leprous beggars abound. This mood is reinforced by the ominous tones of the soundscape. As in the case of Myst, this raw experience gradually becomes interpretable; indeed, much of the pleasure of the game lies in its revelation of meaning. Cosmology is packaged with a reference encyclopedia linked to one s particular location in the game. At any point one can switch to the reference mode to see which folktale from the Konjaku Monogatari 2 is being acted out, or what philosophical principle is being illustrated. One learns, for example, that the general gloominess is an expression of the Buddhist belief that the world was entering the era of Mappo, a time of 2 The Konjaku Monogatari is a collection of stories and lore dating from the Heian period (see Tyler, 1987, for an English translation of many of its stories). 4

5 decline. One learns to interpret the tolling of the temple bell as a symbol of the transience of human life and to understand the political prominence of Buddhist priests within the capital in terms of their supposed magical powers. To anyone unfamiliar with the lore of ancient Kyoto, this information is only gradually assimiliated into a larger understanding of what is going on an effective strategy for motivating further learning (some of the experience was so rich and puzzling that I was driven to explore outside resources, including Buddhist scriptures and manuals of Buddhist iconography). Gradually it becomes clear that there are two journeys that one is traveling two narratives inscribed in the game. The first is a journey through space, corresponding to the goal-driven adventure typical of the computer role-playing game. The second, in contrast, is a spiritual journey-- players achieve spiritual merit based on their actions and move from lower realms of existence to higher ones. The two goals clash. Played as a normal adventure game, in which one s primary goal is simply to survive, one cannot achieve spiritual movement, for in order to progress through the realms of existence, one must die and be reborn. Indeed, played as an adventure game, Cosmology of Kyoto is profoundly frustrating. This frustration, I will argue, is key to one s appreciation of the spiritual aspect of the game, for the adventure game corresponds to the life of the flesh the attachment to the body that Buddhism, generally speaking, preaches against. The spatial journey begins outside the Rashomon gate in the south of Heiankyo and proceeds more or less northward to the imperial palace grounds. 5

6 Heiankyo was planned out along a grid, making movement and orientation fairly simple and one is given a map of the capital with street names and landmarks clearly indicated. Given this map of wide open roads, it appears that one can follow any path one likes and can explore any area in Heiankyo one wishes 3. In fact, however, the journey through the capital is highly constrained, forcing the player along a relatively tight path. One cannot usually get to where one wants to go various obstacles, including bandits, guardian ghosts and parades block one s progress. In later stages, the forbidden paths are simply darkened, indicating that they are inaccessible, impenetrable to any amount of mouseclicking. By the end of the game, it becomes clear that exactly one half of Heiankyo (judging from the map) is inaccessible. One can never make it to portions of the eastern half of the city 4. The feeling of free choice and possibility that one experiences at the beginning is replaced by a feeling of being forced down paths of someone else s choosing. After one finally reaches the capital, the player might be consoled by the thought of the climax, the entrace into the grand Imperial palace the key symbol of Heiankyo high culture, immortalized in the Tale of Genji. And while one does get glimpses of the Genji court (ghostly images of Heian era court ladies, based on the images in the Genji scrolls), one encounters disaster after disaster, as Emperor, advisors, and finally one s own character, are struck down. This sense of disappointment and loss is not 3 The popular film critic, Roger Ebert (1995), writes in a review of the game, The richness is almost overwhelming; there is a sense that the resources of this game are limitless and that no two players would have the same experience. This is an illusion. 4 This is likely intentional. The eastern half of the city, despite its place on the city plan, was marshy and never really developed. 6

7 incidental but integral to one s experience of the spiritual aspect of the game; it captures the kind of ultimate disappointment defining the Buddhist notion of suffering. The spiritual narrative inscribed in the game offers a contrast to the spatial wandering and continues the process of frustrating and subverting the conventional role playing game experience. Merit (or karma ), the basic unit of Buddhist spiritual currency, is accumulated throughout the game by doing good deeds, such as donating money to beggars. Demerits are given for getting into swordfights or taking money from corpses (ordinary practice in most RPGs). At the same time, avoiding such behavior greatly limits the range of experience one can have in the spatial journey. There is, in other words, a level of ethical decision-making that is absent from most role-playing games (see remarks by Murray, 1996, to this effect). Complicating matters is the fact that the rules to the spiritual game are not obvious, and are informed by theological divisions within Heian-era Buddhism. Merit is obtained, according to Shingon (founded by Kukai and represented in the game by the legendary priest Nichizo) through the performance of esoteric rituals, involving chanting and the proper movement of ritual implements. At one point in the game, the player may visit the Shingon temple, Toji, guided by Nichizo, and is allowed to practice, step by step, a particular ritual a ritual that leads to the appearance of various Buddhist divinities and then to a vision of the cosmos a temporary nirvana. Salvation, according to Pure Land Buddhism, on the other hand, is obtained by chanting the 7

8 nembutsu 5 ( Namu Amida Butsu ), an appeal to the compassionate Buddha, Amida. At one point, the player may enter the presence of Kuya, a legendary Pure Land priest, hear him recite a passage from the Lotus Sutra, and then has the opportunity to chant the nembutsu along with him. Both kinds of acts add merit to one s karma score and affect one s spiritual progress in the game. The spiritual journey inscribed in the game is a matter of progressing from the lower realms of existence to the higher realms. In the Buddhist cosmology of Heian era Japan, there were six realms of existence, each of which was divided into several subrealms. These were the realms of hell, animals, hungry ghosts, demons, humans, and heavenly beings. After one s human life was over, one (depending on one s accumulated merit) would be reincarnated in one of these six realms. To accomplish movement through these levels in Cosmology, therefore, one must experience death. When one dies (eaten by a demon, slashed by a bandit, or as happens once,arbitrarily hit in the head by a flying plank) one is reincarnated, sent first to one of the six realms, and then back to the human realm. One s spiritual status is directly influenced by one s karma an innocent player will begin in the realm of hungry ghosts but a player who has transgressed against the basic rules of Buddhist life (by stealing or killing) will begin in hell. The experience of hell in the game is extremely unpleasant for both the player in the game and the person playing the game for each turn in hell, one is forced to watch four different torture/mutilation scenes, including being roasted on a spit, having one s tongue pulled out, being cut in half, and having 5 Frederic (1995) notes that the nembutsu was known to Shingon priests but they preferred to keep it secret. 8

9 one s skin pulled off. Each is accompanied by ambient moaning, screams of pain, and appropriate gurgling or crackling noises, depending on the particular torture. Unlike the streets of ancient Kyoto, where the game offers a first-person perspective, the hell areas offer a third-person perspective on what is apparently the person s body. There is no way to escape the experience of hell (aside from quitting) as each torture must be initiated by the player with a mouse click on one s own represented body. The unpleasantness of the images, combined with the game playing level frustration of spending so much time in hell, makes death a thing to avoid nevertheless, for a player with low karma, it is essential, or so it seems, in order to make progress. After a certain number of reincarnations, one finally arrives in the realm of heavenly beings. One sees one s represented body dressed in fine raiment, floating among celestial beings, with heavenly ambient music in the background. Even this, however, is not the climax. For after a short while, one s heavenly body decays and one returns to the realm of humans. The Buddhist message here is a strong one: even in heaven one is still attached to the body; nirvana may be reached only if one separates from the body completely. The game s nirvana is finally achieved in the game s climax, in an episode that ties together the spatial and spiritual narratives, as well as the Shingon and Pure Land perspectives. The game s climax begins in the emperor s palace. The palace has been destroyed and the player, along with another figure, have died in the wreckage. Regardless of the realm of existence one has last experienced, you go to hell. Nichizo, the Shingon priest, appears in hell to save the other figure 9

10 (an illustration of a legend about Nichizo s journey to hell and back) and scolds you for not completing your esoteric practices back in Toji. Indeed, he implies that diligence in perfrming the practices (the movement of ritual implements described earlier) would have prevented your ending up in hell. He asks if you too would like to return to earth. When you say yes, he points you to a pale blue light that will guide you to the surface. When you return to earth, you are in Toribeno, the Heiankyo graveyard. There is no sound, no music. You turn around, and there is Kuya, reciting the nembutsu. You approach Kuya and he recites a prayer from the Metta Sutra (a prayer for the welfar and protection of all beings). Then he asks you to recite the nembutsu with him. After you type it on the screen twice, he gives you his parting words: They who have eliminated the cravings of all desires shall never again dwell in a mother s womb. A bright white light fills the screen for several seconds. Then the credits roll. The game is over. You have reached nirvana, the cycle of reincarnations is finished, but you are firmly back in your own body, out of the computer-mediated environment. Note that ultimately one s accumulated merit means much less than the sheer grace of Amida. It is the recitation of the nembutsu that finishes the spiritual journey. From the perspective of contemporary thought about computer-mediation and the body, the spiritual journey contains aspects that are quite compelling. Indeed, what takes the experience of Cosmology out of the realm of gameplaying is the following within both lines of belief, Shingon and Pure Land, the act of performing the esoteric rituals, on the one hand, and the act of reciting the nembutsu, on the other, are not merely expressions of some underlying faith, but 10

11 are actions in and of themselves that have merit. When Nichizo scolds you for not showing enough diligence in your esoteric practices (as described above), there is a direct truth in what he says. If you, the player, had in fact, spend your time practicing the esoteric rite in Toji, instead of continuing your spatial journey, you would have not reached that point and would have avoided hell. Here the real and the simulated overlap if the purpose in performing the ritual is ultimately to shift focus from the body to the spiritual realms, it doesn t matter whether one is moving ritual implements with one s hands or via mouse clicks. This is particularly true when it comes to the nembutsu. While it was generally taught, in Kuya s day, that the nembutsu would only work if combined with sincere belief in the goodness of Amida, the nembutsu has been popularly treated as a kind of magical phrase, the mere utterance of which could assure one s salvation. Is one s participation in the game a real or a virtual religious act? Images of impermanence in Cosmology of Kyoto The spiritual journey inscribed in Cosmology provides a context through which the raw experience of the game may be interpreted, but it would not be nearly as effective as it is without a set of compelling images and encounters. If the spiritual journey describes the general path of a person moving away from the body and its concerns there are also specific moments in the game in which the principle of detachment is strongly and effectively emphasized. One set of images has already been noted the graphic representations of the torments of the Buddhist hells. This paper will also examine two other sets of images, the first 11

12 depicting reincarnation and the second depicting the inevitable sorrows that sexual desire brings. Buddhism, historically, has positioned itself against the desires of the flesh, not because the body is evil but because it is an ephemeral thing destined to pass away. Suffering derives from the attempt to grasp the necessarily impermanent. Contemplation of the impermanence of all things has been thus taught as a means of enlightenment. There is an old tradition of using visual means (specially picture scrolls) to enable such contemplation. In Cosmology the impermanence of one s own body is experienced through the depiction of death and reincarnation. While the player s body is not usually visible, there are moments when players are able to glimpse their appearance: at the beginning of the game when players are able to choose how they will look, while tormented in hell or floating in heaven, and when reincarnated into a new body. After reincarnation the new body is deliberately displayed as different from the one designed at the game s outset. The corpse of the old body is still visible, though it eventually shrivels up and disappears. The forced contemplation of the torments of hell is not meant to scare viewers into good behavior it is meant to stress that suffering itself is dependent on attachment to the body. Without this attachment the torments of hell are meaningless. Cosmology also features strong messages in respect to the realm of bodily desires. At various places in the game, the player is encouraged to touch an attractive female body. In each instance, the touch leads to disaster. In some cases, extended episodes that seem to be leading to sexual encounters end in 12

13 the death of the object of attraction by ghosts or demons. In other cases, one is forced to witness the decomposition of naked female corpses. While the former cases are largely retellings of traditional ghost stories, the latter are part of Buddhist pedagogy, and can be linked directly to the teachings of Kukai (Hakeda, 1972). The Scroll of the Nine Stages, according to the reference book included with Cosmology, is an illustrated scroll showing the nine stages through which a corpse changes to earth and ash. The corpse 1) swells up, 2) is discolored by wind and sun, 3) disintegrates, 4) the flesh stains the earth, 5) rots, 6) is picked at by birds and animals. The bones (7) are scattered, (8) blackened (9), burned into earth and ash. And this is indeed the scene that you witness, forced to click through each of the stages. Once again, this is an opportunity to contemplate impermanence 6. Conclusion. Cosmology of Kyoto is an unusual and effective use of computer technology to present both an historical world and an historical world view. Drawing from, but ultimately subverting, the conventions of the computer-based role playing adventure game and the cybersex encounter, it provides raw experience that lends itself to an intuitive understanding of the Buddhist cosmology beyond that which could be understood by the intellect alone. In that way it fits into a long Buddhist tradition of pedagogy that uses the rhetorical power of visual images. Through its vivid and sometimes shocking multimedia representations of 6 Mainstream Buddhism has always privileged the male body, going as far as suggesting that nirvana could never be reached in a female body. (McKinney, 1995). 13

14 mutable, tormented, and decomposing bodies, it both represents and reproduces old Buddhist views on the nature of suffering. Through its use of dual narratives based in conflicting material and spiritual planes, it places the player the midst of an ethical system based on old Buddhist values. Indeed, there is a distinct line between a game like Cosmology of Kyoto and an earlier pedagogically focused game tradition the sugoroku. The sugoroku is essentially a board game featuring playing pieces that progress along a path with a beginning and an end. While the sugoroku was initially a gambling game like backgammon (indeed, this form of sugoroku shows up in a famous tale depicted in Cosmology itself) it is the picture or e-sugoroku (a colorful board game like Snakes and Ladders) that is the popular form today. As it happens, the first known e-sugoroku was associated with Pure Land Buddhism, charting a player s progress through the realms of reality to the Pure Land of the Buddha (Yang, 2000). In this way Cosmology of Kyoto may be seen as part of a continuous tradition of edu-tainment that stretches back centuries. 14

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16 Meyer, K. (1995). Dramatic narrative in virtual reality, in F. Biocca & M.R. Levy (Eds.), Communication in the age of virtual reality. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, Publishers. Miles, D. (1996). The CD-ROM novel Myst and McLuhan s fourth law of media: Mysts and its retrievals, Journal of Communication 46 (2), Murry, K. (1996). McLuhan meets his Doon: Report on the Narrative and Interactivity Conference, Mesh (MIMA). Tyler, R. (1987). Japanese tales. New York: Pantheon Books. Yang, X. J. (2000). History of sugoroku. Sugoroku.net. URL= 16