An Exploration of the Shinto Creation Myth from the Nihongi
As the daughter of a Japanese woman who practices Shinto, I have been shaped by Shinto values, beliefs, and practices. Although I mostly grew up in the U.S., I was originally born in Tokyo and throughout my childhood I flew to Japan to visit family about once a year. When we went to Japan, we would often spend most of our time in the countryside, and would visit Hotaka Jinja, a shrine of the Shinto deity Hotaka-no-mikoto.
I love the Japanese countryside, and especially loved visiting the shrine. It is a peaceful place surrounded by trees, and as a child who had moved around a lot when I was small, I loved the familiarity and ritual of going to Hotaka Jinja. A visit to the shrine involved a sequence of steps: washing my hands using a bamboo ladle, entering the shrine area, bowing and clapping in front of the shrine, tossing coins into the wooden coffer, and praying.
In this piece, I will explore the Shinto creation myth, as it was recorded in the Nihongi, or “Chronicles of Japan” in 720 A.D. (Sproul, 1979, p. 211). Before analyzing the myth in three ways (through reductionism, a more culturally-sensitive approach, and my personal, postcolonial engagement with it), it is necessary to understand the basic past and present context of Japan, in which this myth was created and continues to be shared.
Introduction: Cultural Background
The majority of Japanese people today practice Shinto. However, it is important to note that there are multiple ethnic groups and religions in Japan. When people today refer to modern “Japanese” people, they generally are referring to Yamato Japanese, who are related to both indigenous and immigrant Japanese groups. In the article “Ethnic Diversity and the Origins of the Japanese,” Brown states that “the Yamato Japanese are the descendants of people assumed to have followed the first emperor when he led them to the Yamato Plain in the Nara-Kyoto region and created the Japanese ‘nation’ in BCE 660, as described in the Kojiki, the ancient mythology” (Brown). Although there were indigenous Ainu people living in Japan before the arrival of the Yamato Japanese, the Yamato are also considered indigenous to Japan.
As stated by the quote in the previous paragraph, the Yamato Japanese originally lived in the Nara-Kyoto region of the island of Honshu, and so Yamato Japanese society was structured around this area. Although present-day followers of Shinto live all over Japan, they still mostly live on the large, central island of Honshu.
Yamato Japanese society was originally agricultural and metalworking, and the basic organizational structure of this society was centered around the emperor, or tennō. The emperor was said to be the most direct descendant of the sun goddess, Amaterasu-Ōmikami-sama, and the narrative of Shinto teaches that all Japanese people are related to the sun goddess.
Politically, the Yamato empire was arranged into lineages (Hurst, et al., 2021). Each lineal group had an ancestral deity, and the leaders of the community acted as priests who served the particular group’s deity (Hurst, et al., 2021). Over time, as clans joined together, they formed hierarchical “economic, military, religious, and familial” (Hurst, et al., 2021) relationships, in which heads of the smaller communities served leaders of emergent courts, who ultimately were all linked through vertical relationships to the emperor.
In later sections, I will be drawing on my understanding of the following aspects of Japanese culture and society — reverence towards nature, the concept of purity, a nonbinary view of morality, and collectivism — and therefore will also briefly describe these aspects below:
First, there are many cultural practices and beliefs surrounding the worship and sacredness of nature. Japanese culture views nature as inherently sacred and pure, and because all elements of existence are a part of nature, all living and nonliving things are to be treated with respect. As one Japanese psychotherapist explains, “In the Japanese worldview everything in nature is endowed with spirit, every individual existence is dependent on others and all are connected in an ever-changing world” (Sato, 2017). To illustrate this with a specific example, my mom often emphasized the importance of respect and gratitude towards my food and the farmers who made it, and would tell me not to waste even a single grain of rice in my bowl, or else my eyes would shrivel. She did not mean this literally, but said it to emphasize the importance of respecting food and avoiding wastefulness.
This idea of reverence towards nature is tied to the Shinto concept of purity, because everything, as a part of nature, is inherently sacred and pure. This is why Shinto shrines are often surrounded by trees and nature, and why people wash their hands to purify themselves before entering the shrine area. Culturally, this value for purity and cleanliness manifests in many ways, such as the frequency of bathing and household cleaning in Japan. Acts of purification do suggest, however, that although nature is inherently pure, it can become contaminated and require cleansing. For instance, death is considered impure, which is why it is considered so rude to pass food directly from your own chopsticks to someone else’s without putting it down — this is how the bone fragments from the ashes of a cremated body are passed between people at a funeral.
This concept of the impurity of death and destruction ties into Japanese views on the nonbinary nature of morality. On one hand, for example, killing through murder or suicide is regarded as very wrong, since this involves destroying life, which is inherently a sacred part of nature. At the same time, Japanese culture recognizes destruction as a necessary, intrinsic part of nature — for instance, many Shinto shrines are regularly destroyed and rebuilt in twenty-year cycles in order to purify and renew them.
Finally, the Japanese understanding of destruction can be related to the fact that Japan is a collectivist society, meaning it values social harmony and prioritizing the common good of the society over individual needs. As a collectivist society, Japanese culture generally values fitting in, following the rules, being polite, and respecting authority. Because in contrast, revolution, change, and outspoken self-expression threaten to destroy the existing social order, rebellion is generally discouraged, although the degree to which specific aspects of the societal structure, such as gender roles, are emphasized and policed, has fluctuated significantly over history.
Applying a Reductionist Study of Shinto Myth
According to the social anthropologist Bronislaw Malinowski, myths serve the practical purpose of justifying why society is the way it is, and why individuals should follow the rules of the society. Therefore, when Malinowski studied and explained myths, he looked for any aspects of the myth that seemed to represent and justify specific traditions and institutions of that society.
From this reductionist perspective, it is not difficult to find specific examples in the Shinto creation myth that could be used as evidence to support Malinowski’s claim that the purpose of myth is “to strengthen tradition and endow it with a greater value and prestige by tracing it back to a higher, better, more supernatural reality of initial event” (Csapo, 2005). These three examples relate to gender roles, reverence towards nature, and the impurity of death.
With regards to gender roles, the Shinto creation myth starts off by stating that existence began as a chaotic, undefined mass in which “Heaven and Earth were not yet separated and the In and Yo (feminine and masculine principles) not yet divided” (Sproul, 1979, p. 212). Based on his own cultural background, Malinowski would likely argue that this idea of gender (as part of the ‘innate, natural’ order of the universe) justifies strict gender roles. After all, it could easily be interpreted to mean that femininity and masculinity are mutually exclusive, opposite building blocks of existence. This would make sense in the cultural context of the Japanese industrial revolution during the Meiji-era, with the rise of more restrictive gender roles and stronger Western influence.
However, the myth also says that the original gods were made “male and female” due to the “mutual action of the Heavenly and Earthly principles” (Sproul, 1979, p. 212). Although this language is ambiguous, my preexisting knowledge of the Shinto creation myth is that the first few gods were a mixture of “male and female,” and therefore could be described as nonbinary. In light of this contextual understanding of the myth, one could argue that in both pre- and post-Meiji-era Japan, the myth served a practical function: in pre-Meiji-era Japanese culture, the original nonbinary-gendered gods of Shinto could have functioned to explain the culture’s relatively less restrictive gender and sexual practices, while in Meiji-era Japan, the notion of the “oppositeness” of masculinity and femininity would have functioned to reinforce strict gender roles.
Next, Malinowski might have also pointed out that the Shinto creation myth states that the male and female gods, Izanagi-no-Mikoto and Izanami-no-mikoto, were the parents of many islands, the sea, rivers, mountains, the sun-goddess, the god of fire, and many other elements of nature. Their daughter, the sun, for example, is one of the major deities of Shinto. Malinowski would likely argue that this just justifies the Japanese teaching that we must respect nature and inanimate objects, and treat them as sacred.
Finally, the Shinto myth touches upon the impurity of death when it describes how Izanami no Mikoto died and therefore went to Yomi, the land of the dead. When Izanami no Mikoto’s husband, who is still alive, goes to visit her in Yomi, he ignores her request not to look at her, and when he does, he sees that “putrefying matter had gushed up, and maggots swarmed.” Surprised, he states that he has “come unawares to a hideous and polluted land” (Sproul, 1979, p. 214). After he leaves the land of the dead, Izanagi goes to “wash away the defilement” and “ill-luck” of Yomi (Sproul, 1979, p. 214). Malinowski would say this is a justification of Japanese beliefs and traditions around purification and cleansing, as well as the view that death is impure. He would say this myth serves to reinforce Japanese culture’s reverence towards nature and life, and its view that death and decay are impure.
Applying a (More) Culturally-Sensitive Study of Myth
The Swiss psychoanalyst Carl Jung claimed that myths were symbolic illustrations of archetypes, or universal instincts, patterns, and images that every human being unconsciously inherits. Although Jung claimed that the archetypes underlying myths are universal, he also asserted that it is necessary to understand the cultural and individual context of the myth — in other words, “a myth is not merely a myth in its own right. It is a myth for someone…one must understand the person or the society to understand the myth” (Segal, 1999).
In this section, I will use Jung’s approach to analyzing the Shinto creation myth, focusing on the Jungian archetype of The Rebel, which is characterized as rebellious, powerful, destructive, disruptive, and outrageous. The Shinto creation myth represents The Rebel archetype and its associated qualities through the character of the deity Sosa no wo no Mikoto, “The Impetuous One.” For example, the myth states that Sosa no wo no Mikoto “had a fierce temper and was given to cruel acts” (Sproul, 1979, p. 214), killed many people and withered the green mountains, made an outrageous show of “continually weeping and wailing” (Sproul, 1979, p. 214), and was ultimately banished by his parents. These illustrate how Sosa no wo no Mikoto was destructive, powerful, and outrageous, reflecting several qualities of The Rebel.
After identifying the archetype (The Rebel) and the symbol used to convey that archetype (Sosa no wo no Mikoto), the next step in Jungian analysis of myth is to explore what this specific mythical character tells us about the archetype, in order to reveal a deeper understanding of the archetype in the context of a specific culture. In this specific myth, the character representing The Rebel is predominantly characterized by dramatic outward expressions of his emotions. This suggests that his rebelliousness and destructiveness are not the result of hateful, calculated evil, but instead of overwhelming feelings that cause him to act out. Therefore, this specific myth implies that The Rebel’s desire for revolution can be motivated by deep passion and frustration.
This concept of violent emotion and its connection to Shinto Japan’s unique representation of The Rebel can shed light on more nuanced meanings of the myth in relation to an individual’s place in Japanese society — this is the final step in Jungian analysis of myths. More specifically, connecting Sosa no wo no Mikoto to The Rebel archetype can outline expectations for Japanese individuals regarding emotions, the morality of destruction, and rule following. All three of these examples could be described as subtopics that fall beneath Japan’s collectivist culture.
First of all, the fact that The Rebel archetype is symbolized in this myth through a character who displeases his parents and is punished for his destructive, cruel, and emotionally expressive nature could suggest that in Japanese culture, attention-grabbing displays of powerful negative emotions are to be discouraged. This makes sense in the context of a collectivist society, in which individuals are generally taught that it is noble to sacrifice their selfish personal desires for the good of society at large.
Additionally, this myth highlights Japanese views of morality that were explained in the introduction. It makes sense to say that Japan, as a collectivist society, strongly discourages rebellion in favor of social harmony and preservation of the natural order of society.
However, this is an oversimplification. Japanese views of morality are nonbinary and complex. According to Shinto teachings, all of existence is sacred and so the destruction of living things, or any other part of existence, is wrong. Death and killing are impure. At the same time, many Shinto shrines are torn down and rebuilt every twenty years in a process of renewal that keeps them free from impurities, reflecting the Shinto belief that destruction is a normal part of nature, which, after all, is sacred. Therefore, Sosa no wo no Mikoto portrays the double-sided nature of The Rebel archetype. He suggests that things are not black and white, and that rebellion can involve both renewal and cruelty. This is consistent with my personal understanding of Sosa no wo no Mikoto, since my mom told me that although he is temperamental and destructive, he is not viewed as evil in Shinto.
Finally, the manifestation of The Rebel in Shinto myth reflects the Japanese value of strict adherence to rules of all forms, which are involved in aspects of Japanese culture such as politeness, respect for authority, and conformity, since Sosa no wo no Mikoto is punished for his rebellion and disrespect.
Malinowski and Jung’s approaches to studying the Shinto creation myth each has its own unique strengths and weaknesses.
Both the strengths and weaknesses of Malinowski’s reductionist approach to studying myth lie in the fact that Malinowski attempted to analyse the cultural context tied to the myth in a structured, scientific way.
For instance, one strength of Malinowski’s approach was that he emphasized the importance of fieldwork and understanding the context in which the myth was born. This is a strength because it challenged the then-common practice of anthropologists reading and analyzing myths from other cultures completely out of context. Malinowski’s emphasis on the importance of context therefore was a significant positive contribution to the academic study of myth. At the same time, his concept of fieldwork assumes that he and other “rational, objective” academics from outside a culture could “properly” analyze a different culture’s myths in an unbiased way. I believe this view of science as objective, advanced, and superior to belief systems of other cultures is a weakness because it discourages so-called scientists from being open-minded and introspective in challenging the limitations of their own views. Therefore, although Malinowski’s perspective was progressive in certain ways, his worldview was still heavily influenced and limited by the Victorian dogma of objectivity, which asserted that science was “real” and superior to myths, which were just viewed as “failed” science.
Similarly, the strengths of Jung’s approach to studying myths were also its weaknesses. Jung’s emphasis on the importance of a cultural and detailed, deep individual context in understanding myth is a strength in that for the most part, it doesn’t impose as many pre-existing biases and assumptions onto the myth. At the same time, although Jung does stress the importance of contextual understanding, he still asserts that there are overarching, universal archetypes that are symbolized in all myths. This still guides and limits Jung’s judgements of myths. In this way, Jung’s approach is both extremely detailed in considering an extremely holistic individual context, as well as extremely diffuse and oversimplified in claiming the universality of archetype. At one end of the extreme, his approach runs the risk of being too specific to be very useful to anyone besides the individual, and at the other extreme, it runs the risk of overgeneralization — after all, if archetypes are so vague and universal, and the language of the unconscious is untranslatable into the ‘language’ of the conscious mind, how useful can it be to us in our conscious study of myth?
Personal, Postcolonial Engagement
Considering the strengths and weaknesses of previous scholars’ approaches to studying myth, I will try to reflect on the Shinto creation myth in a way that strikes a balance between Malinowski’s reductionist approach and Jung’s holistic one. However, whenever we think and communicate, we attempt to strike a balance between over-specificity and overgeneralization, based on the purpose and context of our communication. Therefore, what I view as the “right balance” depends on my purpose in analyzing this myth, which I think is worth briefly exploring.
My personal engagement with my chosen myth started off as an open-ended inquiry. However, I decided to write this analysis with the purpose of using it to better understand and define my personal perspective and values, and how it shapes my understanding of culture. Put simply, I will analyze this myth with a focus on the question, “what pieces of this myth would I personally like to adopt and learn from, as a multicultural person living in a global society?” As a psychology student interested in studying culture, this analysis will be useful for my own self-awareness and development as a psychologist.
One aspect of this myth that I connect to is the concept of cleaning, bathing, and purification as a spiritual practice. As mentioned previously in the section on Malinowski, the myth states that “having visited in person the Land of Yomi, [Izanagi no Mikoto] had brought on himself ill-luck….to wash away the defilement, he…did his ablutions” (Sproul, 1979, pp. 214–215). At a literal level, I enjoy cleaning, folding clothes, and organizing my room. It gives me a way to rest and collect myself.
At a more psychological level, I like the associated idea that my natural self is sacred and clean but can require the washing away of impurity. This Shinto view of purity is significant in my current cultural context and worldview, since I try to understand people, including myself, without trying to change them, or make them feel bad that they are not inherently someone else. I like the idea that there is nothing wrong with anyone, but that it’s still worthwhile to support them in growing and reaching a more fulfilling version of themselves, since people can be weighed down by “impurities” in life, such as traumatic experiences. The original writers of this myth did not write it with a central focus on psychological concepts like unconditional acceptance and the cleansing of traumas, but I believe it is still useful in this regard.
Another aspect of this myth that I find personally useful and interesting is what it implies about the morality of social relationships. The myth states that the god Sosa no wo no Mikoto “made a practice of continually weeping and wailing. So he brought many of the people of the land to an untimely end” (Sproul, 1979, p. 214). As discussed previously, although Sosa no wo no Mikoto is destructive and disruptive, this also means he is passionate and emotional, and he is not exactly considered “evil” in Shinto. This myth was originally written in the context of a hierarchical society which, in many ways, required stricter adherence to social order, since people depended more immediately on group cooperation with farmers, warriors, and rulers in order to survive.
In contrast, although Japanese society and culture today has been strongly influenced by industrialization, capitalism, and individualism, in many ways it continues to be a collectivist culture. Therefore, in this myth, Sosa no wo no Mikoto can be used to examine the value and morality of social disruptiveness and destruction. In other words, he makes me wonder to what extent “being good” means you follow rules and self-sacrifice for the benefit of others, as opposed to asserting your own needs and rebelling against perceived injustice in society.
Personally, this is a meaningful issue since it ties into my personal conflict in identifying with my collectivist versus individualist cultural views. I have often felt “on the outside’’ of both cultures that I have inherited — I feel too individualistic and ‘Americanized’ to describe my values as predominantly Japanese, but too collectivistic to buy into the U.S. American pursuit of self-made success and individual status.
Reflecting on Sosa no wo no Mikoto and the Japanese, nonbinary view of morality has made me realize that the two opposing cultures that have shaped my values are not actually so opposite from one another. Shinto beliefs suggest that destruction and rebellion are both harmful and renewing at the same time. American culture is based on the belief that striving for personal success is an individual pursuit, but is also fueled by the desire to gain status in order to be respected and to fit into society. By reading this myth, I have realized that seemingly contradictory opposites can be true at the same time. This is a useful takeaway to me, as someone interested in studying cultural psychology, which often requires me to explore perspectives that might initially seem foreign or incompatible with my own worldview.
The Shinto creation myth from the Nihongi that I have explored in this piece was written thousands of years ago by people belonging to a cultural context that was very different in many ways, but the same in others, to my own context as a Japanese American.
At the beginning of this paper, I stated that as the daughter of a Yamato Japanese woman, I have inherited Shinto beliefs. Over the course of this paper, I analysed these inherited beliefs from different perspectives, culminating in an exploration of my own relationship to the myth. This process has affirmed my values of open-mindedness and curiosity, because it has helped me learn that being open to understanding perspectives that contradict my own can help me more deeply understand and challenge or solidify my own core beliefs.
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