Queer In: Mythology III
In the west, the distinction between ‘homosexuality’ and ‘heterosexuality’ only came to be during the 19th century, with Richard Von Krafft-Ebing’s book ‘Psychopathia Sexualis’, published in 1886, being credited with the popularisation of the term ‘homosexual’. This led to our modern distinction between these two certain types of sexuality. Before this, there was no real word to describe same-sex attraction.
In light of this, I feel as though people can often be myopic when reading historical texts, and this fact is often forgotten. Queer scholars sometimes try to pin our modern understanding of homosexuality on a certain text that can be strenuous and far from the authors intention. Same-sex acts have been written about and alluded to, but it was within a different social context. Therefore, when we look at queer figures in mythology, it is important to note that they were not always specifically related to identifying as lgbtqia+. However, the fact that allusions to same sex acts and sexual fluidity are present throughout all of human history, without clear definition, is important to acknowledge and, in a way, beautiful to see without such claustrophobic definitions.
I might also add that mythology is intrinsically symbolic, and can be interpreted in any way the reader should choose. The many different readings and perceptions of mythological texts over time is the very reason these ancient stories are so enduring and entice our imaginations so fervently.
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Amaterasu - 天照
Homosexuality in Japan has had a long history, with some cryptic allusions of male-to-male sexual acts even dating back to ancient texts. As within all cultures, there have been periods of tolerance in varying degrees. In Tokugawa-era Japan, Ihara Siaikaku’s book, ‘The Great Mirror of Male Love’ (published in 1687), details different accounts of male-to-male sexuality. The stories generally detailed romantic relationships between an adult male and adolescent youth, very much mirroring heterosexual gender roles. The other type was romantic relationships between adult males and kabuki actors. Lesbianism, on the other hand, unfortunately lacks the intricacies and attention given to male sexuality. During the Taishō period, the term dōseiai (same-sex love) emerged as an all-encompassing term roughly equivalent to homosexuality, but depictions of lesbian romantic relationships were often erotic in nature and seemingly intended for male sexual pleasure.
During the Meiji Period, under the influence of western ideals, homosexuality began to be seen as a psychological condition and sodomy was briefly made illegal, although this did not last for long. Lesbianism continued to be predominantly seen as content in hentai zasshi, and specifically for the male gaze.
This is why I love this reading of the story of Amaterasu and the cave, as she is such an ancient and significant figure within the Shinto tradition.
The Story of Amaterasu
Amaterasu is a major kami (deity) in the Shinto religion. She is seen as the goddess of the sun and the universe. The most celebrated story concerning Amaterasu is the cave myth, which some scholars have interpreted as having lesbian undertones.
Amaterasu was the daughter of the two creationist deities, the god Izanagi and goddess Izanamino. She was the embodiment of pure beauty and painted the landscape of japan with her siblings, before being designated as guardian of the day in the form of the sun. One day, her jealous brother Susano-O murdered her mare, and attacked her palace killing one of her attendant girls.
Amaterasu fled to a cave, locking herself in and refusing to leave. This unleashed darkness unto the world and demons sprung from the land attacking all that was living. Plants wilted and all life decayed. The other deities congregated at the cave and begged her to come out, but to no avail.
After many fruitless attempts, Uzume, the Goddess of laughter, came forward with a plan; she hung jewels on the trees and placed a mirror outside of the cave and began to perform an erotic dance, removing her clothes to reveal her naked body. The Gods and Goddesses cheered and celebrated, proclaiming they had a new beautiful goddess of the sun. Intrigued by the proceedings, Amaterasu exited the cave. Seeing the dance of Uzume and her own reflection in the mirror finally made Amaterasu smile and feel joy. Hypnotised by her own beauty, she moved towards the mirror, not noticing the other gods seal off the cave behind her. The earth was bathed in sunlight once more.
The depiction on Uzume’s erotic dance is more often seen as humorous over romantic. However it could still be seen as an attraction on Amaterasu’s part. I liked the idea of her being hypnotised by her own reflection as a symbol of same-sex love, being captivated by the beauty of one’s own gender. Her exiting the cave is also an obvious connotation of realisation and awakening, literally ‘coming out’.
The beauty and sensuality of women is the theme I most wanted to capture with this illustration, a celebration of the female form and feminine beauty, as exuberant and warm as Amaterasu, the sun, itself.