The Elusive Samurai: Engaging With History

History has 'story' in it and everything.

Preface.

I grew up obsessed with Japanese history. And I know why, too. I used to play Civilizations III with my brother, and we practically lived in the Sengoku scenario that took place in the feudal days of Japan.

From there, my obsession never stopped evolving. I focused on Japanese history in my undergrad program, I’ve spent so much time at the Museum of Natural History’s Japanese section that I might as well call it a secondary residence.

All this to say, I’m still confused why it took me so long to find manga. And for that matter, why it took me so long to finally commit to The Elusive Samurai, which takes place in my favorite time period, with names I actually know flying banners of clans I actually recognize. I personally never liked the Hojo clan (they were yellow in Civilizations), I was more partial to the Date in Sendai (they were purple), but I like the Hojo now.

Because Tokiyuki is a Hojo. And Tokiyuki is my boy.

Preface over!

The short version of the story I want to tell you about myself as it pertains to this topic is this: I didn’t read as a kid. Pretty much at all. So when I discovered the joys of reading for fun as a senior in high school, I was something of a puppy in a dog park full of aging mutts. I didn’t know where to go, so I went straight to Charles Dickens, spent two years reading him exclusively, and then started writing.

That’s my superhero origin story. Pretty great, right?

Anyway, all that to say, my connection to history has always been there, but my love of writing has not been. So when I started writing, I went to the one place I felt most comfortable: the past. Rather, the past as Charles Dickens showed it to me.

Every story I wrote was set in Victorian times, but I was so uncomfortable with my own writing that I hid behind humor. History and humor: two things that, to my knowledge, did not, nor had they ever, fit together. History where I come from (the Midwest) was a serious subject reserved for academics.

How dare you make jokes about powdered wigs. How dare you.

You may be wondering where the hell I’m going with this. Just bear with me, I’m almost there.

While that “history is for academics” mentality isn’t universal, it’s still pretty prevalent. History is not a popular class in school. Still. To this day. Even with fun resources out there like Nathan Hale’s Hazardous Tales. History with humor, it’s there, we can all access it.

The Elusive Samurai is a fantastic example of how to engage with history, but not make it about the history. And it’s done, primarily, with two very simple storytelling devices.

The first—a character who can see the future.

The second—a playful tone that uses modern concepts and speech, just like Nathan Hale’s Hazardous Tales.

Counterintuitively, I’m going to start with the second, because it’s not as crafty-centric as the first, and this is MangaCraft. Whether it’s the narration, or the character’s themselves, there are frequent references to stuff that wouldn’t exist yet in this era of Japanese history—tanks, baseball, security cameras the like. But also, my favorite, casual mentions of modern concepts in dialogue, like a character saying to “send the bill to…” That turn of phrase wouldn’t have been around back then.

Do you think academics are crying because of it? Where I come from, yes, they would be.

Anyway, the first device—a character that can see the future. This character being the semi-maniacal Suwa Yorishige, the caretaker of our protagonist Tokiyuki and a low-key unhinged fellow who may or may not be a god who may or may not be able to see the future.

But the fun part (humor… with history?!) is that whether he can see the future or not, he makes references to how things will be viewed in the future. For example, during a particularly momentous showdown, our protagonist Tokiyuki is in a dog shooting competition with Sadamune, a bug-eyed jackass intent on spoiling everyone else’s fun.

Now, if you raised an eyebrow at the mention of “dog-shooting,” rest assured you’re not alone. I did too. And while it is non-lethal shooting—the arrows are blunted and don’t break skin—the notion is still pretty barbaric.

What a storytelling conundrum. How can you convey a barbaric historical practice for a general audience that will be massively put off by the notion? Doesn’t this story know that perhaps the first rule of telling a story is that no dogs can be harmed? Unless it’s John Wick, of course.

For The Elusive Samurai, they use Suwa’s maybe-seer abilities. Before we get too far from the first mention of “dog shooting,” Suwa speaks to no one in particular (see below), saying that in the future, this would be seen as animal cruelty, addressing it’s barbarity with his ridiculous face, before telling an undisclosed person or group (the reader, obviously) to please not complain. It’s funny, it’s useful, it fits with the story, since Suwa may be a seer, and it’s getting out in front of a problematic situation.

Do you think academics are crying because of it? Where I come from, yes, they would be.

This is how to engage with history. History is problematic. It always will be. Humans were a mess. Still are, but maybe less so? Who knows. The point is, you can’t hide from history, but you also can’t always just convey it exactly as is or try to use it to your whims. I’m actually still blown away that Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure used Nazi’s as semi-good guys in Part 2. Literally blows my mind. I’m still not sure it actually happened, or if it was a fever dream.

Let’s look at some mainstream examples, of which there are shockingly few. Folks—history is ridiculous. People did some stupid things, and there’s so much fun to be had telling stories based in the past. Drilling holes in the head to relieve headaches? We did that. Ketchup as a cure for stomach aches? We did that. Pineapples as a symbol of status? We did that too.

Anyway, moving on to those mainstream examples.

First example: The Great, which is on… Hulu? I don’t remember, there are too many streaming services. The Great is the story of Peter (played by the genius Nicholas Hoult) and Catherine (Catherine the Great, if you need to know), of Russian fame. It is completely unhinged, holding to history in the ways it needs to and diverting in the ways it doesn’t. Is it completely historically accurate? No. Is it more historically accurate than you’d think? Yes. Is it a better story because it doesn’t rigidly adhere to history? Absolutely.

To anyone who has seen The Great, you surely know that people did not talk that way back then. But by having these historical characters speak with a modern vernacular, occasionally, comically, pulling in historical terms, it turns history into a canvas rather than a completed work of art.

Oh, that’s good, I’m glad I just came up with it. History is a canvas, not a completed work of art. Paint over it, add new characters, it’s a playground. Any rules you feel you have to adhere to probably aren’t real rules at all. And you never know what may or may not have actually happened. The amount of times I’ve googled something from The Great to see if it’s real and found out—surprise!—it is. Like rollercoasters. Who knew!

Also, similar to the way Suwa addresses seemingly no one in The Elusive Samurai about animal cruelty, Peter himself alludes to the future as well, mentioning once that “if anyone ever invents something easier than buttons, we are all in trouble.”

A similar example: The Favourite, a movie set in 18th century England detailing royal cousins on a fancy estate. Boring AF, right? Nope. It’s ridiculous. It’s unhinged. It’s hilarious. It also has Nicholas Hoult. Is it historically accurate? Sometimes. And that’s better than never, right? I don’t know, maybe.

Not enough people see history as the rich storytelling resource it is. Sure, you can take it seriously, hold to the rigid standards of the time, and there is a value in that too. Some people learn their history through historically bulletproof stories. That’s great, really. But when you start twisting it and turning it and making history surprising and obscene, that’s when you’re really doing something special, and The Elusive Samurai does that.

Similar to The Great, there is no better feeling than seeing something happen in The Elusive Samurai, cackling, saying something along the lines of, “no f***cking way that actually happened,” and then finding out that it did.

History is crazy. Treat it as such. Huzzah!

Hey, creative writers: Do you have a favorite era of history? Write a story that takes place then, but change one little (or big) thing about it.

Hey, fans of The Elusive Samurai: How do you think it stacks up to Assassination Classroom, and, follow-up, help me understand why I didn’t enjoy Assassination Classroom.