Miura Ayako and Christianity
It is impossible to fully appreciate the works of Miura Ayako without recognizing that her faith in the God of the Bible pervades everything she writes, sometimes in obvious ways and other times in more subtle ways.
Miura’s conversion to Christianity, and the rocky path to faith, are described eloquently in the autobiographical novel Michi ariki (translated and abridged by Valerie Griffith as The Wind is Howling, InterVarsity Press 1977). Michi ariki was followed by Kono tsuchi no utsuwa wo mo (this earthen vessel too) which describes her maturing faith during the early years of her marriage to Mitsuyo. Miura continued to publish a good number of non-fiction books (including many essay collections) discussing issues of Christian faith throughout her life.
I’ve chosen just a few passages from Valerie Griffith’s translation of Michi ariki to provide a context for Miura’s conversion to Christian faith:
“...[A]n empty life is a fearful thing and, though [my students] were a help to me, ultimately this was not enough to save me. With everything futile and nothing worth believing in, gradually my heart grew more confused....Among the patients [at the hospital] there was a humanist who confronted me, bright-eyed with the question,
‘Don’t you think Humanism is the ultimate answer?’
Beset with doubts, I could not follow him. I was not impressed with the idea that man is central. The painful and unforgettable experience of [Japan’s] defeat had taught me how foolish and untrustworthy men were, until I hated them; but he said I was just doubting for the sake of doubting.
There was also a very fine Marxist among the patients. He earnestly tried to lead me into Marxism, but I could not agree that the meaning of life can be found entirely within a material world. I lay in bed and stared at the white wall, The color of the wall in the morning and the color at noon and again in the evening were all quite different. The walls certainly existed materially, but what was the true color? Could men be completely objective about things? It did not follow that the things men’s eyes could see were the most precious things in life. On the contrary, it seemed to me that men were blind to the most important things.
I rejected materialism without even studying it, and answered, ‘Yes, it would be wonderful if poverty disappeared and we had a society where all men had equal wealth, but I have a feeling that that alone wouldn’t make men truly happy. Isn’t it significant that, although Buddha was a prince and had health and a beautiful wife and a lovely child, he left his castle and went to the mountains?’
At that the Marxist went away.
In addition there were some who believed knowledge was supreme, and others who said that literature alone was worth living for. Others believed in free love. In the youthful atmosphere of that hospital where everyone was living for something, my life alone was empty.
...Such was the state of things when one day, out of the blue, Tadashi Maekawa, a childhood friend, came to see me.” (Miura, The Wind is Howling. InterVarsity Press. 1977, p.22-23)
Tadashi Maekawa and Ayako had known one another as children, and his reappearance in her life as a fellow sufferer of tuberculosis was a turning point in Ayako’s life. Maekawa was a Christian.
“...As soon as he [would arrive to visit me], I was all set to argue and invariably criticized Christians.
‘Christians are such hypocrites! They put on airs, and even if they like going to night-clubs they say anyone who goes is a great sinner and hard to save and things like that, don’t they?’ And, ‘Christians are the spiritual aristocracy, aren’t they? They stand on a pedestal and look down on us miserable people.’
It was a strange quirk of mine that when I wanted to be friendly with someone I picked a quarrel like a child...
Strange to say, the friendship which began with quarreling became a warm bond which no fighting or separation could break.
...What was that strange light within him? Was it Christianity? He loved me not as a woman but as a human being and an individual, and I decided, just as I was, to seek the Christ in whom this man believed. (Ibid. pp.41-42)
As Ayako’s condition steadily worsens, it is finally discovered that the tuberculosis has spread to her spine.
“Back in my room I thought hard. Although my spine was being eaten away by tuberculosis and I stumbled as I walked, we had been blind to its presence simply because it had not appeared on the X-ray. If this ignorance had continued, might not all my bones have been affected? I certainly would have died.
And then I thought, ‘The same could be true of my soul.’ Maybe I did not realize my heart was being eaten away or how infected I was, simply because I was unaware of my sin. I found this thought very frightening.
My mind was made up. I had come to an end of myself. I wanted to clinch my decision by being baptized as soon as possible.” (Ibid. p.110)
“There are people, of course, who will not commit themselves to a life of faith even though they have heard about it, been invited to church, and gained some understanding of Christianity. They are like the people who, with stomachs stuffed so full the skin is drawn tight, cannot put another bite in their mouths no matter what delicacies are laid before them. They do not need to be told, ‘This is delicious.’ They know how tasty it is but they are so gorged that they cannot lift even a morsel to their lips. They have forgotten what it feels like to be hungry.
But if they feel no hunger, are they not well enough off as they are? I believe not. Gelatin or even water will satisfy one for a while, but their nutritious value is too low to sustain life. Something like this is true of the life of the spirit as well. If one is in love, if one has abandoned himself to bowling, if one gets engrossed in activities of various kinds, he may get along for a while without becoming aware of the hunger in his soul. This too is something man is capable of. Though what he lives by is insufficient, he can keep going-- and even take satisfaction in his way of life. But does not the satisfaction he feels resemble the sense of satiety one gets from filling his stomach with gelatin or water? As I said in an earlier chapter, is it not more authentic for one without faith to feel a sense of crisis than to feel happy that he perceives no emptiness in his own soul?” (Miura, “The Church of Christ,” translated by David Reid, Japan Christian Quarterly V.38, Fall 1972, p.226)
Miura Ayako recalls the first time she went to a Christian church as a skeptical high school student, a time when she felt no such “spiritual hunger.” Invited to church by a friend, Ayako, with a proud sense of being a government spy, decided to see for herself whether it was true that a church was a place where people criticized the Emperor and opposed the war. By 1964, more than twenty-five years later, Miura was herself a Christian, writing novels based on Christian ideas.
It is these works of fiction which are the main focus of this website. Some have obvious Biblical themes, and others do not. However, if one is familiar with the Bible to begin with, it is not hard to recognize the biblical word view in every plot.
Each book that has been published in English translation so far, has a straightforward and obvious Biblical theme. This is understandable, considering it was mainly Christian missionary organizations that were behind getting these translations published. They represent only a small part of Miura’s writing, however, and when more of her novels are made available to the English-reading public in good translation, many of her current fans will probably be surprised at the depth and subtlety of which she is capable.
Hyoten (Freezing Point) is Miura’s debut novel, the one that made Miura Ayako a household name in the 60s and 70s. In Hyoten, Miura tried to show that the root of social disorder is the Biblical concept of original sin. Her second novel, Hitsujigaoka (Sheep hill), deals with much the same theme, but it ends with a very clear explanation of redemption through Christ’s death on the cross. In spite of Hyoten’s popularity, Miura herself felt that it was a failure in terms of communicating her intent. Year later, she produced a sequel to Hyoten called Zoku-Hyoten (Freezing point II) which is less subtle than the earlier book in laying out the themes of sin and redemption.
In 1968 Miura published Shiokari toge (Shiokari pass) a novel based on the true story of a certain Christian, a railway employee, who sacrificed his life by stopping a run-away train coach with his own body. The English translation of this book and the subsequent film version are likely to be the first (and perhaps only) Miura experience for most people in the western world.
Here is a passage from this novel that reveals something of Miura’s understanding of sin:
“ ’But Teacher, I’m a man of the Meiji era and Christ was crucified well over a thousand years ago, wasn’t he? How can I, born in the reign of Meiji, have nailed Christ to the cross?’
‘That’s it; yours is the usual way of thinking. But I’m different; I know that I nailed Christ to the cross. You see, Mr. Nagano, if you do not realize that the problem of sin is your own problem, you cannot understand. Do you see yourself as a great sinner?’
[...] ‘I’m not very sure,’ he said to Kazuma Iki. ‘I don’t think I’m especially bad, but when I read in the Bible where it says “He who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart,” I find it a very lofty ethic, beyond my reach. As for the passage, “There is no one righteous; no not one,” I can understand that, but I don’t think I’m so conscious of sin as to admit that I’m a great sinner.’
Kazuma Iki listened, giving several large nods to show he understood, and then he pulled out a Bible. ‘I understand. Mr.Nagano, I tried this myself and I would like you to try it too. I would like you to take any passage of the Scripture you like and try to obey it absolutely. It must be perfectly, thoroughly followed. If you do that you will see how far short you fall from being the person you ought to be...’” (Miura, Shiokari Pass, translated by Bill and Sheila Fearnehough, OMF Books, 1974 p.178)
Many of Miura’s characters, like Chika, the nurse in Kaeri konu kaze (wind of no return) or Yuko, the housewife in Sabaki no ie (House of judgement), are also mired in their own or other people’s sin. More often than not, though they are challenged with important self-evaluative questions, the stories end with little to indicate whether or not the challenge will be accepted. In many cases, as in the case of Fuyumi and Kanahiko in Hiroki meiro (endless maze), the characters refuse to reflect on their self-promotive instincts, and rush headlong into their own destruction.