Guardian of Heaven and Earth - New Yogo - Afterword

  Guardian of Heaven and Earth
-
New Yogo

(Book 10 of the Guardian of the Spirit Series)

Author: Uehashi Nahoko

Translator: Ainikki the Archivist

 

 Afterword

    Chagum and Balsa’s long story comes to a close here…at least for now. There is the seed of a story in my heart that involves Balsa during her childhood, but the full story of the Guardian of the Spirit series has its proper ending in this volume. Nayugu and Sagu met and melded, Chagum confronted his father, Balsa found Tanda again…I was happy that I could write all these things. Thank you for taking this long journey with me.

    Futaki Makiko, an animator at Studio Ghibli, continues to provide stunning illustrations for this series. More than ten years have passed since we started working together. I would like to thank her personally, along with all the wonderful people who have made these books possible.

    And you, too, again. Thank you.

 

Uehashi Nahoko

September 18, 2006

Abiko 

Story Notes on Guardian of Heaven and Earth: Writing Through Magic

 

    This is the end of the Guardian of the Spirit series. I knew from the start that it would end with Balsa leaning her spear against the wall of Tanda’s hut and going inside, but I had absolutely no idea how Balsa or Tanda would get there. Much of the way was unclear to me while writing, but there was one other thing that I had to have for certain: Chagum had to confront his father.I didn’t want to write about Chagum trying to kill his father or being complicit in his father’s assassination. That definitely wasn’t the kind of story I wanted to tell.

    Most of the novel grew organically from these two seeds. I began writing without knowing anything else for sure. But while writing, I heard Chagum and Balsa speaking, as if by magic. While Chagum was confronting his father, I heard him say, “Farewell!”, and understood that both he and the Mikado would be parting from one another forever—but not as enemies. I felt the significance of their last meeting deeply. It is the end of their relationship, just as this book is the end of the story. The Mikado kept his gaze to the heavens while his son kept his feet on the ground. For me, the most important scene in the novel shows these positions reversed, with the Mikado sleeping forever under the earth and Chagum living between the earth and sky with his brother and sister.

    The field of flowers is based on one I discovered while doing fieldwork in western Australia. There were so many flowers that I couldn’t see the end of them in any direction. Needless to say, that field made a powerful impression on me. Instead of focusing on the heavens or the earth, the scene locates people in the space between the ground and the sky. That’s where everything alive must make its way.

    I used to make grass flutes all the time as a child. Tanda taught Chagum how to make one in Guardian of the Spirit, so I wanted Chagum to teach his siblings how to make one, too.

 

***

 

    Some people might think that there’s still a lot of Chagum’s story to tell, and I can understand that perspective. But for me, the Guardian of the Spirit series was always Balsa and Chagum’s journey together. Now that they’ve both come home, that is their ending, though their lives certainly aren’t over. It’s difficult for me to chart the path ahead for both Balsa and Chagum, especially Chagum as the new Mikado.

    I also tried to bring Tanda and Balsa’s long-held love to a satisfying conclusion. They’ve known one another since childhood and have lived most of their lives knowing one another, even if they’re not always together. It was difficult for me to select a label for their relationship, since “husband and wife” was too pedestrian and “spouse” or “partner” was too generic. I settled on つれあい、tsureai, a gender-neutral term with the same meaning as “spouse” but with an emphasis on being both led and followed. In such a relationship, the two follow and lead one another at different points, and I think that’s exactly right.

    That’s not to say that writing a conclusion to their relationship was easy. I wanted to emphasize that Balsa would still be a bodyguard and Tanda would still be a magic weaver in his hut, but they would always be in one another’s lives and completely committed to one another. The breakthrough I had for their relationship was when Balsa spoke to me, again as if by magic: “Tanda, I need to cut your arm off.”

    I could see the scene so clearly, but I’m not a doctor, so I am grateful for my cousin, Dr. Matsuki Takamichi, for giving me advice on how to write an amputation done in an area that was anything but sterile. Some of the details of the scene, like cauterizing the wound, are somewhat gruesome, but they are necessary; without cauterization, Tanda would have either bled to death or died of infection. I could clearly see Balsa tying a tourniquet, making the swift cut, and burning the edges of the wound.

    Balsa’s path led her to shed the blood of many people through fighting. I wanted her to shed blood to save someone. That seemed to be a fitting sort of end for her.

 

***

 

    I have a lot of people to thank: my longstanding editors at Kaseisha, my brilliant illustrators Futaki Makiko and Satake Miho, who have been with me all the way to the end, my friends and family, who have been with me from the beginning, and to all of my wonderful readers for taking this long journey with me. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

Uehashi Nahoko

October 12, 2008

Abiko