Page 45 Review by Stephen
"Happiness Is Freedom, and Freedom Is Courage"
- Pericles, Funeral Oration
For centuries the Tokugawa Shogunate ruled the lords of Japan's feudal domains with an iron fist, dispatching samurai to subdue and control the population through intimidation and ruthless brutality. This they performed with relish, taking the opportunity to increase their own hegemony in the process. In 1655, however, the Ogami clan vanished completely; in 1681 so did the Yagyu clan. This, then, is a possible explanation for these events, a classic Japanese tale of loyalty, power, corruption, betrayal and revenge.
Unlike more romanticised fantasies, the samurai here - other than Lonewolf himself - are exposed as nothing more laudable than the highly skilled bullies and puppets they were. Nor is there much honour to be found amongst them (Lonewolf notes more courtesy amongst Yakuza he meets), and when it's invoked it tends to mask mere pride or self-interest at its heart. Early on a promise of immunity is granted only to be shamefully ignored, as is the honourable option of a one-on-one duel in favour of a mounted ambush, the supposedly brave and mighty warriors seeking safety in numbers and trickery.
As his name suggests, Lonewolf no longer considers that Happiness Is Belonging*, having fallen victim to power struggles at the top of this corrupt and treacherous hierarchy. Instead he finds the courage to face the world alone, relying on his own skill, intuition, judgement and conscience. Travelling with his infant son, he offers his services as an assassin, only to discover more hidden motives. The work is filled with Lonewolf's selfless actions and iconoclastic pronouncements, defying authority, deflating humbug and exposing hypocrisy, dishonour and deceit. Just like Henry Fielding's Tom Jones (a satire of society where form and manners take priority over genuine goodwill), there's something of the New Testament about all this.
It's such a long-form work that there is more than enough room for the quiet, even tender moments. Koike and Kojima's storytelling skills come to the fore in the pacing and evocation of mood through landscape (finally given its true detail and definition in these oversized editions on archival paper), whilst Kojima's sense of movement is both acute and intelligently communicated. The tranquility of a forest walk with falling leaves may suddenly explode into a fluid frenzy of blurred limbs as an attack is instigated and parried, the mere impression of movement perfect for conveying the preternatural reflexes of the matchless Ronin. As to the delicate handling of atmosphere, solitude is emphasised by the subtle use of single trees or potted plants, and internal thoughts are given expression by a change in the weather.
* A notion being taught to this day in self-styled 'Bushido' cults disguised as self-defence classes as an insidious means of recruiting then maintaining power over initiates. Ironically enough this work - and indeed the legend as a whole - remains immensely popular with this same flock of sheep who appear to miss the point... wherein lies another New Testament parallel.
