Spirited Away and Japanese Culture

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Myoe yume wo ikiru. Kyoto: Shohaku-sha. (The Buddhist Priest Myoe: A. Life of Dreams. Culver City, CA.: Lapis press.) Kawai, H. (1995) Dream, Myth & Fairy ...
The Routledge International Handbook of Jungian Film Studies Edited by Luke Hockley, Routledge, 2018, 254-262.

Spirited Away and its depiction of Japanese traditional culture Megumi Yama

It is rare that a film talks directly to an idea of the psyche developed by Jung. In Spirited Away, written and directed by Hayao Miyazaki and produced by Studio Ghibli (2001), audiences are exposed to a realm of the imagination populated by spirit elements and loosely guided by a mixture of lesser male and more dominant female energies that align to notions of earthiness and spirituality. The narrative is set in a threshold realm that takes the form of a Bathhouse; a contained, yet meandrous alchemical and transformative space that equates to the Jungian unconscious where archetypal energies work to drive a sense of individuation, or psychological development. Many of the mercurial beings inhabiting the Bathhouse represent concepts of alignment, compensation, equilibrium and the changing nature of these energies as they work together to harness a sense of wholeness. For the lead character, ‘Chihiro’, a young girl on the threshold of adolescence who accidentally stumbles upon this other world, the Bathhouse presents as dream-like place – an unconscious fantasy - that challenges her fear of change. Not only is she transformed on a personal level, but those in her orbit also find themselves evolving. While Spirited Away has become a global success, touching on concepts of the unconscious from a Western perspective, it also speaks to a particularly Japanese sensibility that I wish to explore in this chapter.

Japanese animated film, or anime, an abbreviated version of the English loanword animeeshon, evolved from, and still bears the echoes of, traditional Japanese culture. The form originated from emakimono (literally 'picture scroll'), often simply called emaki - long, horizontal illustrated narrative forms, popular before and since the Heian era (794-1185). One views these scroll parchments from right to left, as with written Japanese, by reading the text in sections of about an arms-length. The preface of the 2006 catalogue to the Emaki Unrolled: Masterworks of Illustrated Narrative Handscrolls exhibition, held at the Kyoto National Museum, describes the artifact as, ‘Forming a unique mode of expression in which a tale unfolds on a long, horizontal sheet of paper, the emaki parallel [sic] of modern movies and animation in their spatial and temporal presentation of narrative’. Dating back to these picture scrolls, the anime audience is, albeit in an abstract way, engaged in a form of time travel: sharing the pleasures of fantastical characters, narratives and action sequences that entwine early and contemporary Japanese culture and spirituality.

The very style of anime is particularly well aligned with the Japanese cultural tendency toward ambiguity. By this I mean that concepts are often projected through obscure and fluid objects that eventually give rise to a sense of wholeness. Such an expressive style encourages audiences to immerse themselves in the power of the image. For better or worse, this is how some communication styles in Japanese society are created, as Kate Matthews hints at in Logic and Narrative in Spirited Away, (2006) when she asks: ‘Why does Spirited Away appear to lack ‘logic’ and what, aside from ‘logic’, gives it structure?’ (2006, p. 135).

I have chosen Spirited Away (Japanese title: Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi), the highest-grossing film in Japan to date, because of its reputation as a masterpiece of storytelling. A globally recognized work, it won a number of accolades including an Academy Award for Best Animated Feature Film (2003), a Golden Bear at the Berlin International Festival (2002) and a nomination by the British Film Institute as one of the top ten films you should see by the age of fourteen. After its Japanese release, Spirited Away was broadcast on television roughly every two years. The ratings figures for each rerun achieved a staggering twenty per cent, suggesting that even fifteen years after its release, the film is still enjoyed by adults and new generations of children alike. It has arguably ‘captured’ many viewers and now occupies a place as deep in the psyche as myth or fairy tale. The fluidity of the images, as they transcend and morph from their original forms, allows us to not simply view the film objectively from the outside, but engage in the screen images, as if we have been invited into the scene, and somatically experience the events developing around us.

The story begins with ten-year-old Chihiro and her parents travelling to their new home. She seems an ordinary pre-adolescent girl struggling with the shift from the security of her former environment. When her father tries to make a short-cut and ends up taking a wrong turn, they pass an old torii (a gateway to a Shinto shrine) which stands at the entrance to an unpaved mountain path scattered with numerous hokora (small shrines or spirit houses). These mystic symbols suggest a threshold into the spirit realm. As they arrive at a tunnel-like entrance of what appears to be an abandoned amusement park, the unusual and almost numinous atmosphere of the deserted fairground awes Chihiro. After leaving the car and walking through a long tunnel together, her parents set out to explore, and as they walk

around the empty town they find a deserted stall piled with food. Seeing this as an invitation, they begin to devour the various offerings voraciously, but Chihiro is wary of possible repercussions and abstains.

While wandering around the town, she comes across a traditional Japanese building, a public Bathhouse, accessed by an ornate bridge. Here she meets the first character that appears to belong to another realm; a boy dressed in robes warning her to leave before dark. When she returns to her parents, to her horror she finds that they have metamorphosed into pigs and as night falls, shadowy figures fill the once deserted street. It is revealed that we have entered a Spirit World - home to a myriad of beings (yaoyorozu no kamigami, literally ‘the eight million Gods and Goddess’) who gather to request comfort and luxurious treatments.

The boy, Haku, who seems to have known Chihiro in another dimension, advises her to ask the Bathhouse boiler man, Kamaji (lit. ‘iron pot old man’) for a job as means of surviving her journey and eventually finding her way back home. Descending a very long, steep, rickety set of stairs at full speed, almost as if falling beyond her will, Chihiro arrives at the basement where Kamaji is working. A hybrid of human and spider with six arms, his job is to stoke the fire that boils water for the Bathhouse tubs. Kamaji directs Chihiro to Yubaba (lit. ‘hot water old woman’), the tyrannical owner of the Bathhouse who lives on the upper floor. Yubaba initially refuses to offer her a job, but finally relents.

On signing a contract, Yubaba steals some of the characters that make up Chihiro’s name(千 尋, renaming her Sen (千).There are several different readings for Japanese kanji characters,

some of them are originally from Chinese readings, and others are from native Japanese readings. The Chi from Chihiro, becomes Sen when Yubaba ‘steals’ the other character from her name, giving our protagonist a new identity for the spirit realm and allowing Yubaba to exert control over her.

Eventually after many adventures in the bathhouse Chihiro finds her

way back to her parents, now returned to their human form, reclaims her name – her sense of self - and feels prepared to confront her new life.

English vs original Japanese versions ‘Kami’ in Japan To begin an analysis of the film, I would like to look at its Japanese title, ‘Sen to Chihiro no Kami-kakushi’ – which in a literal translation reads, ‘Sen and Chihiro are hidden by kami’. Although kami is often translated as ‘god’ and is used to describe deities such as Christ or Yahweh, its Japanese meaning is more complex and non-monotheistic. For an explanation of the phenomenon of kami-kakushi, I will turn to Japanese folklorist Kazuhiko Komatsu and his 2002 work Kami-kakushi to Nihonjin (Kami-kakushi and the Japanese). Komatsu explains that historically, Japanese believed in the existence of an ‘other world’, and the possibility of being be transported to, or ‘hidden’ within, this dimension by someone or something that has entered the everyday. ‘Kami’ is ambiguously used as a generic term for these kinds of trespassers. With Japan’s modernization in the 1960s and 1970s, such superstitions and beliefs gradually disappeared, but did not die out entirely. Komatsu (2002) adds that we have lost sight of this realm where kami (there is no distinction between singular and plural in Japanese) dwell.

Kami might also be thought to refer to phenomena that inspires a sense of awe and wonder. This can be compared to Otto’s (1917 [2010]) description of the ‘Numinoese’, mysterium tremendum and fascinans. I would argue that this relates to Chihiro’s sense of foreboding when she first stepped into the Spirit World – sensations that her parents were not sensitive enough to perceive. That the unconscious yearns for some essence of the mystical might contribute to the global success of Spirited Away. In the film Kami are explicitly described as yaoyorozu no kami; literally the ‘eight-million kami’, which are thought to be the kami of Shinto, the native religion of Japan based in the ancient worship of nature and the ancestors. In truth, most Japanese do not identify as Shintoists although many attend Shinto shrines and pray to the kami. There are no formal rituals for Shinto, but its primary beliefs are deeply imbued in the culture. Kami also refers to the divine or sacred essence that manifests in multiple forms. Sites in the landscape are said to host unusually sacred spirits and are therefore considered to be places of worship - mountains, rocks, trees, rivers, and waterfalls, as well as the naturally-occurring phenomena of wind, lightning, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions and so on. Kami has been translated to mean more than just ‘God’ in English - no single English word is able to express its full meaning. In the translation of Spirited Away the word ‘spirit’ replaces kami, which seems to be an appropriate, and for the most part, helpful choice.

The Bathhouse: a multilayered structure Spirited Away is likely to be read as a narrative about a ten year old girl grappling with adolescence through a series of adventures in the Spirit World, but the text also reads as a story of a transformation for each character. The Bathhouse, as the locus for the narrative, especially in the first act, becomes an alchemical vessel, hence its relationship to

metamorphosis. The building is grandiose and opulent and traditionally Japanese in style. However, the red, green with semi-dark tones of brown and gold in the overall colour scheme take on a gaudiness that is not common in Japanese taste; this aesthetic offers the Bathhouse an exotic, otherworldly ambience. The most important characteristic of the structure is its multilayered design, making it possible for characters to move effortlessly between multiple floors above ground level – numbered to incorporate the words ten and chi (‘heaven’ and ‘earth’ respectively). In this spirit and somewhat spiritual environment, the audience may unconsciously experience a sense of embodied movement in sync with the characters as they transition from space to space.

The Top Floor(天:heaven)has two doors - the right leads to Yubaba's office, adjacent to Boh's bedroom, her spoiled overprotected giant baby, while the left door is permanently closed. The room is opulently built, lined with expensive vases, accentuated by magnificent architecture, and followed by twisting hallways. The Boiler Room is located below ground, and is home to Kamajii and countless susuwatari (soot sprites), who are ordered to maintain the fires for cooking and the bathing of customers. An imposing furnace dominates the room and the walls are lined with drawers of herbs that filter herbal water to the baths. The Bathhouse has a set of old unstable stairs jutting outside of the building, leading directly to the Boiler Room and bypass the usual means of internal elevator entry. There is also a shaft connecting the Boiler Room to Yubaba’s office.

The Ground Floor (chi,) is ostensibly composed of kitchens and baths for the customers’ use while the Second Floor (niten, lit. ‘second heaven’) comprises traditional Japanese

tatami-matted dining rooms for customers. A long hallway with spaces separated by shoj(rice paper sliding doors)runs the length of the second floor. Large stages for entertainment are also incorporated into the design. The floor is popular and crowded with customers, as well as Bathhouse staff who bring food and drink to the clients. The building as a whole, takes the complex form of a multilayered maze, where most of the characters, including Chihiro, repeatedly descend and ascend via stairs, elevators or shafts.

Jung (1987 [2010]) pays particular attention to ‘the stairs’ and notions of ascent and descent in the dreams of children, associating these various planes with different levels of consciousness. The Japanese Jungian analyst, Hayao Kawai, in his work on 13th century Japanese priest Myoe (The Buddhist Priest Myoe: A Life of Dreams), writes that ‘ascent and descent are very important themes in dreams’ (1991, p. 137). He refers to Jung’s account of a near-death experience where he felt himself rising to a great height causing a separation from the world of his everyday reality. Through this narrative, Jung alludes to the importance of descent, or in other words, finding a sense of reconciliation with the body. Comparing Spirited Away’s spirit world to the dream experience, the frequent climbing and falling in the Bathhouse facilitates transformation, and for Jung and Kawai, in a symbolic sense, this movement relates to various psychic stages and the transition between these realms.

I think it might be difficult for Japanese, accustomed as they are to a polytheistic culture, to understand the concept of a single transcendent absolute. In the film Chihiro’s transformation and growth comes about not through a single transcendent experience, but through multiple encounters with creatures in the Bathhouse. In the process of developing a sense of maturity,

or individuation, she affects a number of other characters, facilitating both their change and their rescue. Her encounters and experiences suggest a form of symbolic death and rebirth that in analytical psychology constitutes the basis for growth and self-knowledge.

The Mother and the Father The Mothers- Yubaba and Zeniba There are two significant elder female figures in the story, both are witches who reign over the Spirit World; one is Yubaba, the tyrannical proprietor of the Bathhouse who lives in the penthouse, and the other is her identical twin sister Zeniba, who lives at a place called Bottom Swamp. Although the extravagant Yubaba (lit. ‘hot-water old woman’) is obsessed with gold, her sister Zeniba (liy. ‘money old woman’) lives a simpler, more frugal life. The name Yubaba evokes the image of an affectionate elderly woman - the opposite of her overbearing and intimidating personality. On the other hand, Zeniba shows warmth and hospitality to Chihiro and her companions. It seems that their names and personalities work in balanced opposition to each other.

Yubaba is an overprotective a mother, almost ‘swallowing’ her giant baby son with affection, but she also has the capacity for occasional acts of compassion, similarly Zeniba initially appears to be cruel as Yubaba, but her actions are driven by a sense of justice. Unlike many traditional western narratives, where good and evil are neatly personified, the two Mothers display various aspects of the Great Mother and the paternal. The Mother who sometimes also embodies the Father is overwhelmingly dominant in the Spirit world the film creates.

Eating, vomiting and limitlessness In Spirited Away, appetite becomes a significant theme and a link between the act of ingesting food with a sense of integration and a desire for unity indicative of the Great Mother. From the opening scenes, Chihiro’s parents complain of hunger and when they happen upon the food stall in the deserted amusement park, they immediately devour its contents, as if under the influence of this archetypal energy. No-Face, a dominant spirit character in the film, also displays a strong sense of appetite and tempts a frogman working at the Bathhouse with the offer of gold before swallowing him. As greedy workers, hoping to be tipped, swarm around him with endless plates of food, he begins to adopt their personalities in the hope of attracting Chihiro’s attention. As he increasingly reflects the negative qualities of the workers, his desire becomes limitless and he grows larger and larger by ingesting enormous amounts of food, gradually transforming into a monstrous creature. When fed the last of the magic dumplings (niga dango, lit. bitter dumpling) gifted to Chihiro, he regurgitates everything he has eaten, returning to his original timid self. As eating brings unity and vomiting suggests separation, No-Face would seem to embody these qualities; (The Stink-spirit is another example of this process.)

The Father- Kamaji (lit. ‘boiler old-man’) With no significantly featured father-figures in the film, the strong, commanding all-devouring Great Mother dominates the Bathhouse with her excessive and even limitless power. Although Spirited Away features characters that carry notions of the Father, they are inconspicuous and weak. The character of Kamajii, the old man with six spider-like arms who operates the boiler room in the basement of the Bathhouse, sleeping and eating his meals

there, provides a stark contrast to Yubaba’s opulence and extravagant living space. This impoverished paternal figure though is related to the Great Mother who according to Kawai (1982 [1996]), is often symbolized by the spider. Furthermore, the spinning and weaving of spiders, reminiscent of Moira the Goddess of Fate who weaves the cloth of fortune and Arachne in Greco-Roman mythology who challenged Athena to a weaving contest and was consequently transformed into a spider as punishment for hubris. Soot Sprites (susuwatari, lit., ‘travelling soot’), the only beings that are under Kamaji’s rule, carry coal to his furnace. In contrast, Yubaba runs the Bathhouse with vast numbers of frogmen employees and slug-women who are forced to work feverishly.

The walls of his room are lined with large cabinets where he keeps herbs for the guests’ baths, crushing them into powders with an alchemist’s mortar. The use of herbs is usually associated with witches, or female energy, and his dwelling in the lowest floor of the Bathhouse suggests a groundedness associated with the maternal. It therefore appears that Kamajii embodies both the Father and the Mother, and despite his less prestigious role in the running of the Bathhouse, it is only through him that the enterprise is physically able to function.

If we regard baths as similar to alchemical containers, and the Bathhouse as a place where alchemical transformation takes place, it is also possible to read Kamajii as an alchemist, who diligently maintains the fire required for these sacred vessels. According to von Franz, one of the rules of alchemy is to, ‘see that fire never goes out … otherwise you can start again.’ (1997, p. 18) As mentioned above, while the power of Yubaba and Zeniba is overwhelming and absolute, without Kamajii the Bathhouse itself would cease to operate. What is more, because

he encouraged Chihiro to visit Zeniba, and gave her ‘Ocean Railway tickets’ to do so, we can also see glimpses of the Wise Old Man archetype manifest in this character. At first, Kamaji seems cold and abrupt, much like Zeniba, but gradually he begins to show maternal warmth and kindness to Chihiro, helping to facilitate both her escape from the bathhouse and a reunion with her parents.

Symbolically speaking, we can theorize a vertical axis within the Bathhouse between Yubaba (embodying the Mother/Father) and Kamaji (embodying the Father/the Mother/the Old Wise Man). While these roles compensate each other, maintaining a subtle balance, the Mother emerges as the dominant energy. The relationship between these compensating aspects of each character is fluid and changeable, much like the action within the Bathhouse – a continuous flow of movement through the various spaces over the duration of the narrative.

Three heads(The Three ‘Kashira’) Apart from Kamaji, the Three Heads are also examples of male figures in the narrative - a trio of men that live with Yubaba and Boh in the penthouse/office. Heads without bodies, they move together by bouncing and rolling on the floor, often closely following Yubaba, like bodyguards, servants, or even bizarre pets. However, it is possible to read these characters differently. It is clear that Yubaba is Boh’s mother, but the story does not give any clues as to who the father might be. Considering that Yubaba, Boh and Three Heads share a living space, the Three Heads could possibly be Boh’s father. If this is the case, the father is once again exceedingly disempowered compared to the mother.

From another quite different, if not cynical viewpoint, the Three Heads might be considered to display one of the unique past aspects of Japanese masculinity. The Three Heads’ only verbalization is the single syllable ‘Oi’, a word associated with chauvinist behavior. The effect of Three Heads jumping in a group, uttering ‘oi, oi, oi’, is quite comical. The word is mostly used by Japanese men when trying to draw attention to themselves. In Japanese family scenes, it is not uncommon for middle-aged husbands to summon their wives with the phrase ‘oi’ as a way of indicating that they wish a certain task to be carried out. For example, when they want a bath prepared, usually they just say, ‘Oi, furo (bath)’ and waiting at the table for dinner, ‘Oi, meshi (meal)’ is a term commanding to their wives to serve food. This ordering sounds arrogant, but stems from the traditional idea that men need few words to maintain a presumably ‘dignified’ position in the family.

It might sound contradictory, but the idea of male domination over women still prevails in all aspects of contemporary Japanese society, and is largely accepted as natural, or more accurately, unconsciously lived. A man behaving arrogantly toward his wife, is often likened to a demanding infant responding to a more powerful mother figure. When the Three Heads grunt, ‘oi, oi, oi’ it brings to mind a scene of traditional Japanese domestic life. That Three Heads do not have a body suggests the ostensible patriarchal temperament of the Japanese Father is simply a facade, and in reality he is cut off, or even separated from, a more whole sense of self – something is missing; a self consisting of both compensating male and female attributes. Kawai (1995) suggests that attempts to maintain a fine balance between various pairs of opposites were common throughout the historical periods described in the Kojiki (Record of ancient matters: the oldest Japanese mythology) and despite more ideologically

driven gender roles, this need for equilibrium continues today.

The Western and Japanese ego Finally, I’d like to turn to a rather personal experience. Since living in the US during my adolescence, I have felt as if I had two different egos: one is Japanese and the other is western. I have had opportunities to go back and forth between Japan and western countries such as the UK, US, Australia and Europe, and through my experience as psychotherapist in Japan, I have been deeply interested in the difference between the Western and Japanese psyche. For instance, I have previously stated that:

Modern Western consciousness seems to have spread across the world as a result of globalization, and Japan has certainly been affected by this influence. However, ego consciousness and the establishment of a subject in the Japanese psyche have evolved differently and have roots that go far back into a rich cultural history. (Yama, 2013, p. 68)

Furthermore, I attempted to explore the way in which the ego emerges in the Japanese psyche by returning to the narrative embedded in the oldest layer of Japanese culture. This was done through an analysis of Kojiki, the earliest Japanese myth, in order to present another way that the ego may develop distinct from its evolution in the West.

In Spirited Away, Chihiro takes on a series of complex problems, which she confronts in the hope of curing her transformed parents. Finally, she decides of her own free will to go to

Zeniba in order to help her wounded friend Haku, an action which might psychologically be considered to demonstrate autonomy. It is noteworthy that in Spirited Away there is no separation from the Uroboros, (the circular image of a snake eating its own tale – a symbol of death and rebirth) no birth of the Hero, and no dragon to content with as described by Neuman (1954 [1993]) in The Origins and History of Consciousness, where the story of the development of Western ego is beautifully depicted. Chihiro remains in a Mother-dominant world. Everything takes place in the Spirit World, a realm accidentally breached by Chihiro and her family. As we have seen, this reality consists of some ambiguous opposites maintaining a fine balance making up the Whole, despite, in a cursory reading of the film, an impression of chaos, or at least disorder.

Reading the narrative objectively, the story makes little sense, but staying within the story, experiencing it subjectively, helps us to understand its significance. In traditional Japanese culture, the ego seems not to have an a-priori existence. Through various experiences within a Great Mother-dominant world, a sense of subjectivity is only established after a lengthy process, which individuals seem to undergo quite passively. In my opinion this sense of passivity equates to an inability to articulate and take direct action in unfolding this process (Yami, 2013).

As mentioned above, through my attempt to read the beginning of Kojiki, I showed that there is a long process before the first tangible personified pair of deities appears in Japanese mythology; in contrast, gods in Greek mythology are more clearly defined and developed. This process might be seen to overlap with the process that Chihiro undergoes in the

narrative of Spirited Away, in which she begins as ordinary, sulky adolescent girl and ends as a strong willed individual.

A model proposed by Kawai (1976) which shows the difference between the structure of the Japanese psyche and that of Westerners might be helpful (Figure 1). The ego is the center of the conscious personality and the Self is the unifying center of the total psyche in Western Jungian thought.

Figure 1. Two models of Japanese consciousness and Western consciousness according to Kawai (pictorially interpreted by Yami 2013: 58)

According to Kawai, in the Japanese psyche, the boundary between consciousness and unconsciousness is much less defined. The ego is buried in the unconscious depths of the psyche. As it is usually difficult to articulate what is taking place in the unconscious, we need to be involved within. Spirited Away gives us a beautiful story that shows what might happen in

the illogical unconscious realm. Logic in general is based on rational thought, yet it is quite difficult to follow the film in a linear fashion. Events are somewhat incoherent and many characters merely acknowledge and attempt to understand what is happening to them, in a non-linear manner, without questioning the processes of transformation that they are undergoing or actively directing it through a more ego-lead, self-determining, sense of heroism. The Japanese word jinen is helpful here – it denotes a state in which various elements flow spontaneously. It might be interesting to suggest that the narrative developed in accord with jinen, which interestingly shares the kanji characters with shizen (nature). In Japanese, fate and nature seem to go hand-in-hand.

Conclusion The Bathhouse is like an unconscious melting pot, populated by images and spirits that talk in a visual and somatic language to our consciousness. That is, it is as if like archetypal energies in the dream landscape, these projected of elements of another realm, function as drivers of change - psychopomps if you like, for transformation. Chihiro’s most immediate need, on entering the amusement park, or spirit world, on the journey to her new life and school in a distant town, was to develop a stronger sense of self awareness and resilience; to integrate conflicting energies at play in this very difficult emergence from childhood into adolescence. While the story does not adopt a hero’s journey paradigm, it taps into a Japanese sensibility of jinen that in its seeming chaos and fluidity is able to facilitate transformation. The embrace of this concept through the enthusiastic support of Miyazaki’s work here by non-Japanese audiences, suggests a form of collective unconscious recognition of jinen – of nature and fate, so entwined in contemporary anime and its historical picture scroll counterpart.

Acknowledgement: I would like to express my gratitude to Stephen Richmond, who helped revise my manuscript and gave much valuable feedback.

References

Jung, C. G. (1987 [2010]) Kodomo no yume. Kyoto: Jinbun-shoin. (Children's Dreams: Notes from the Seminar Given in 1936-1940 Jung Seminars. Princeton Univ. Press.)

Kawai, H. (1976) Boseishakai Nihon no Byori. (Pathology of Japan as a Society of Maternity). Tokyo: Chuokoron-sha.


Kawai, H. (1987 [1991]). Myoe yume wo ikiru. Kyoto: Shohaku-sha. (The Buddhist Priest Myoe: A Life of Dreams. Culver City, CA.: Lapis press.)

Kawai, H. (1995) Dream, Myth & Fairy Tales in Japan. Einsiedeln, Switzerland: Daimon.


Komatsu, K. (2002) Kamikakushi to nihon jin. Kadokawa Sophia bunko. Tokyo: Kadokawa-shoten.

Kyoto National Museum (2006) Emaki Unrolled: Masterworks of illustrated Narrative Handscrolls. Kyoto National Museum.

Matthews, K. (2006) Logic and Narrative in 'Spirited Away'. Screen Education (43), pp. 135–140.

Miyazaki, H. (2006 [2013]) Kaze no kaeru basho: naushika kara chihiro made no kiseki. Bunshun jiburi bunko. (A place where the wind return: Trajectory from Nausicaä to Chihiro.). Tokyo: Bungeishunju.

Neumann, E. (1949 [1993]) The Origins and History of Consciousness. Princeton: Princeton University Press.

Otto, R. (1917 [2010]) Das Heilige - Über das Irrationale in der Idee des Göttlichen und sein Verhältnis zum Rationalen, Breslau. (Sei naru mono. Iwanami-Bunko. Tokyo: Iwanami-shoten.)

Von Franz, M.L. (1997) Alchemical Active imagination. Boston and London: Shambhala.

Yama, M. (2013) Ego consciousness in the Japanese psyche: culture, myth and disaster. Journal of Analytical Psychology, 58, pp. 52 – 72.

On-line sources Ebert, R. (2002) ‘Spirited Away’ http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/great-movie-spirited-away-2002 Accessed on18 May 2017.

Filmography

Spirited Away (2001) Directed by Hayao Miyazaki. Tokuma Shoten, Studio Ghibli (Japan).