Tough to be a Man

When I hear the word "masculinity," I'm reminded of a film series known as Otoko wa tsurai yo, or “It’s Tough Being a Man.” The first film of the series was released in 1969 and production continued until 1995 for a grand total of 48 films in all. It was the death of leading actor Kiyoshi Atsumi that finally brought the series to its end. The plot of each film in the series follows a nearly-identical format. Kuruma Torajiro, or Tora-san, earns a living as a traveling salesman, traveling around Japan and only occasionally returning to his home in Shibata, Tokyo, where his family runs a dumpling shop named Toraya. Every now and then Tora-san shows up unexpectedly back in Shibamata, where he inevitably gets caught up in some kind of trouble that he caused before setting off on another journey in an attempt to make things right, falling in love with some woman along the way.

Tora-san is compassionate, but he has a short temper and isn’t the brightest of the bunch. Whenever he returns home, he always receives a warm welcome and enjoys time spent with his younger sister, Sakura, and his aunt and uncle who run the dumpling shop. But eventually they end up fighting over some minutia, resulting in Tora-san storming out and disappearing once again. Tora-san is far from what you would call handsome; rather, he is what might be described as “cute.” And he almost always ends up falling in love during his travels. But the women that he falls in love with never consider Tora-san to be more than a good friend, which ultimately leads to him being hurt and rushing off to his next destination.

The films were initially set during Japan’s post-war period of rapid economic growth. Lacking a proper businessman’s job, never married, and living paycheck to paycheck, Tora-san is a far cry from what would be considered “masculine” according to Japanese values during this period (assuming that such a thing exists). The women that he falls in love with also tend to be in their 30s or 40s, living alone, and just barely managing to get by. If getting married and starting a family is part of what makes one masculine or feminine then these are people who have completely missed the mark.

But at the same time, Tora-san is indeed masculine. He’s a show-off, quick to start a fight, treats women well, and likes to talk big. He’s always the first to tackle a problem, as if saying “just leave it to me.” Whenever I contemplate the idea of “masculinity,” I always end up running into a wall of “incomprehensibility.” One person’s idea of masculinity may not be the same as yours or mine. And of course it will most likely differ depending on when and where you might be. Tora-san and the women he falls in love with in the Otoko wa tsurai yo films represent a sad existence that deviates from the social norm. On the other hand, the warm and welcoming home that he returns to in Shibamata is a glowing model of the ideal household and surrounding social norms, but attempts to include Tora-san as a part of that repeatedly fail. In the end, he always sets off on another journey, almost as if he were fending off these attempts.

In the video footage shot by Drew Pettifer, when Japanese men are asked about “masculinity,” something in their expressions seems to show a sense of bewilderment. The concept of “masculinity” resists their attempts at verbalization, remaining elusive and troublesome. But at the same time, people are somehow afraid of falling even slightly outside of its boundaries. And sometimes this stands in the way of good intentions, as can be seen in the case of the Shibamata household. Perhaps our vague concept of masculinity is actually the result of defining what is not masculine and then constantly trying to rid ourselves of those attributes. And in the process of getting rid of “everything else” we end up with this intangible thing called masculinity. Take Tora-san’s younger sister Sakura’s son Mitsuo, for example. Mitsuo’s “development” as he grows up is the very embodiment of this process. Despite looking up to Tora-san, he gets a proper job, gets married, and sets out to make a respectable life for himself. In one scene, still in high school and feeling unsure about the future, Mitsuo has the following exchange with Tora-san.

MITSUO: What’s the point of life, anyway?

TORAJIRO: Well... uhh, you know… There will be times when you think: “It sure is great to be alive.” Right? Isn’t that really what it’s all about?

(Tora-san Plays Daddy)

In his answer, Tora-san describes a happiness that is simpler and more primal than the happiness defined by typical social paradigms such as marriage or employment. This happiness is different than “masculine” or “feminine” happiness – it’s a happiness that anyone can experience. Perhaps that’s why it’s harder to come upon. Having followed the path to becoming a respectable adult without deviation, I can’t help but wonder if Mitsuo ever thinks back on this answer from Tora-san. I wonder if he ever wishes he had lived a life more like that of Tora-san’s. But Mitsuo has a place firmly within the framework. Tora-san, on the other hand, has deviated from the standard splendidly, continuing to travel further and further outside of the lines to some unknown destination. All while dreaming of the day that he can quietly think to himself: “It sure is great to be alive.”

男らしさ、という言葉を聞くと、『男はつらいよ』と呼ばれる映画シリーズを思い出す。1969年に第1作目が封切られ、その後1995年まで48作が制作された。シリーズは、主演俳優・渥美清の死によって終わった。映画は、毎回ほぼ同じフォーマットに基づいて展開する。東京の柴又にある団子屋「とらや」の息子、車寅次郎は、ろくに家にも帰らずテキ屋として日銭を稼ぎながら日本中を旅している。ときどき柴又にふらりと帰ってきては、騒動を起こし、巻き込まれ、それを解決するためにまた旅に出て、現地で女性と恋に落ちる。

寅さんは、情に厚いものの気が短く、そんなに頭が良いわけでもない。家に帰るたびに妹のさくらや団子屋を経営する叔父叔母の優しさに触れ、心地よく過ごしながら、些細なことで喧嘩して、また家を飛び出してゆく。男前とは程遠い、どちらかといえば「愛嬌のある顔」、と形容されるタイプ。そして旅先で彼は、大抵恋に落ちる。しかし相手の女性は「友達」として寅さんを慕い、そのズレが最終的に寅さんを傷つけ、次の旅へと彼を急き立てる…。

映画の舞台となった高度成長時代の日本において、サラリーマンとして真っ当な職につくわけでもなく、結婚するでもなく、その日暮らしの生活を続けている寅さんは、およそ日本的な価値観（そのようなものがあるとすれば）における「男らしさ」とは程遠い。彼が恋に落ちる30代から40代くらいの女性たちもまた、ひとりで生計を立てどうにか生きている。もし結婚し家庭を持つことが男らしさ・女らしさの基準のひとつとなりえるなら、彼らは完全にそこから逸脱した存在だ。

しかし、寅さんは同時に、確かに男らしい。大見得を切り、喧嘩っ早く、女には優しくキザなセリフを投げかける。俺に任せろ、と言わんばかりに先陣を切って問題を解決しようとする。「男らしさ」について考えた時、そのような「分からなさ」に突き当たる。ある人にとっての男らしさは、別の人にとってそうではないかもしれない。それはまた、時代や地域でも、当然のことながら変わってゆくだろう。『男はつらいよ』で描かれる寅さんと彼が恋する女性は、社会規範から逸脱した、寂しい存在だ。彼が帰る柴又の「優しい家」は、家庭や地域における社会規範のお手本のような存在で、しかし、寅さんをその規範に組み入れることに失敗し続ける。寅さんは、結局いつも、それに抗うように旅に出るのだ。

Drew Pettiferが撮影した映像のなかで、日本人男性たちは「男らしさ」について聞かれると、どこか困惑した表情を浮かべる。「男らしさ」は言語化を拒み、つかみどころがなくてやっかいだ。しかし、その規範を少しでも外れることを、ひとびとはどこか恐れている。それは時に、柴又の家のように善意として立ちはだかる。もしかしたら、私たちが男らしさとして認識しているぼんやりとした枠組みは、「男らしくなさ」を定義しそれをひたすら排除するという行為により作られるのかもしれない。「それ以外」の存在が排除されてゆくプロセスのなかで、男らしさという実体のないものが生成される。それは例えば、寅さんに憧れながらも、真っ当な職場に就職・結婚し、真っ当な人生を歩み始めるように描かれる、寅さんの妹・さくらの息子、満男の「成長」が体現しているのではないか。満男は将来へのぼんやりとした不安を抱いていた高校生の頃、寅さんにこんな質問をしている。

満男：人間は何のために生きてるのかな。

寅次郎：何て言うかな、ほら、あ－生まれて来てよかったなって思うことが何べんかあるだろう、そのために人間生きてんじゃねえのか。

『男はつらいよ　寅次郎物語』より

その答えは、結婚や就職といった社会一般における模範的な幸せの定義よりも、もっとプリミティブでシンプルで、また、「男らしい・女らしい」幸せとも違う、誰にでも訪れ得る幸せだ。だからこそ、感じ難いものでもあるのかもしれない。道を外れることなく真っ当な大人になった満男は、寅さんのその言葉を思い出すだろうか。寅さんみたいに生きたかった、なんて思ったりするのだろうか。でも彼は、すっかり枠組みの内側にいる。一方で、規範から盛大に逸脱しながら、寅さんは知らない場所へ、外側へ、外側へと旅を続ける。生きててよかった、とささやかに思える日が来ることを夢見ながら。