We’re already fleeing Osaka castle. If that feels a bit rushed, it’s because it is.

The third episode is mostly an action set piece and a very memorable one from the novel. Ishido approves many of Toranaga’s people leaving the castle, unaware that Toranaga himself is part of that retinue, disguised as a woman. When he’s spotted, all hell turns loose and Toranaga is caught between Ishido’s forces on land, Kiyama’s archers too, and Kiyama’s blockade at the end of the harbor. And the Portuguese Black Ship that may or may not offer assistance — but if so, not too overtly.

The relevant parts of the book are chapters 18-29 (the escape sequence takes eight whole chapters, 21-28). Given that there are 61 chapters in the novel, this means that almost half of the chapters have been covered in the first 30% of the series, though that’s somewhat misleading since chapter lengths vary. Going strictly by page numbers, 40% of the book has been covered by the end of episode three. Which is still a lot of compression. The show is burning through story, which means the sacrifice of a lot of precious character scenes, and I’ll start with the grand offender.

No hornpipe, no duck-fucking

Chapter 20 of Shogun has been stripped to the bone. It’s the chapter in Osaka castle where Toranaga demands that Blackthorne teach him how to dance the English sailor’s dance (the hornpipe) and one of the novel’s most iconic scenes — the first real cross-cultural moment between the two men. To be fair, the writers sort of made up for this at the end, when after escaping from Osaka, Toranaga tells Blackthorne to teach him how to dive off the ship into the ocean (click on the right image). This differs slightly from chapter 29 of the book, which involves a lot more divers; other samurai try learning how to dive, including Mariko, and they’re all nude, and they belly-flop painfully many times (including Toranaga) before learning the trick — aside from Mariko who gets it right the first time. In the show, the diving scene is reserved exclusively for Blackthorne and Tornaga and clearly intended as a bonding moment between them, no doubt to make up for the hornpipe omission. But they really should have included the hornpipe dance. Without that early bonding moment, the viewer is left to puzzle why Blackthorne would risk having his head chopped off for Toranaga, when he screams like a lunatic to keep Ishido’s men from discovering Toranaga disguised as a woman.

The second major omission from chapter 20 is Blackthorne’s furious rant against sodomy. Mariko does offer him a boy for sexual pleasure, as in the book, but he merely brushes the suggestion off with mild disgust, and that’s the end of it. In the book he becomes enraged and won’t let the issue go, as follows:

“Perhaps you would prefer a boy?” asked Mariko.

“Eh?”

“A boy. It’s just as simple if that’s your wish.” Her smile was guileless, her voice matter-of-fact.

“Eh?”

“What’s the matter?”

“Are you seriously offering me a boy?”

“Why, yes, Anjin-san. What’s the matter? I only said we’d send a boy here if you wished it.”

“I don’t wish it!” Blackthorne felt the blood in his face. “Do I look like a God-cursed sodomite?”

His words slashed around the room. They all stared at him transfixed. Mariko bowed abjectly, kept her head to the floor. “Please forgive me. Here some men want boys sometimes. I foolishly presumed that your customs were the same as ours.”

The samurai leader, Kazu Oan, was watching angrily. He was charged with the barbarian’s safety and with the barbarian’s health and he had seen, with his own eyes, the incredible favor Lord Toranaga had shown to the Anjin-san, and now the Anjin-san was furious. “What’s the matter with him?” he asked challengingly, for obviously the stupid woman had said something to offend his very important prisoner.

Mariko explained what had been said and what the Anjin-san had replied. “I really don’t understand what he’s irritated about, Oan-san.”

Oan scratched his head in disbelief. “He’s like a mad ox just because you offered him a boy?”

“Yes.”

“So sorry, but were you polite? Did you use a wrong word, perhaps?”

And it goes on and on from there. At one point Oan even considers offering Blackthorne a duck just to placate him (wondering if barbarians are into bestiality). The point is that homosexual activity was widespread in medieval Japan and entirely respectable, and the novel paints a severe clash of values. It’s those kind of scenes that make his novel so memorable and why they’re as important as action scenes, sometimes even more so.

Toranaga treats Yabu to a morning view, but they don’t piss on their bargain

This is a very minor quibble. The opening scene of the episode comes from chapter 18, and for the most part is fine. Yabu is finally granted an audience by Toranaga, and he is convinced that Toranaga plans to kill him. (Yabu writing his will beforehand is an amusing touch.) But although Toranaga should absolutely kill this shark, he plays the dangerous game of using Yabu as an ally, and reveals to Yabu that the assassin from episode 2 was sent to kill Blackthorne, not himself, and that he needs Yabu to bring Blackthorne to the fishing village of Ajiro and watch over and protect him. For this service he will expand Yabu’s fief immensely. Yabu agrees to the bargain, and then they watch the dawn together in silence from atop the castle’s battlements.

But they don’t piss on their bargain — a very memorable moment from the book that I was hoping to see. Here’s the scene Clavell wrote:

“Let’s piss on the bargain,” said Toranaga.

He went to the edge of the battlements. He stepped up on the ledge of the embrasure, then onto the parapet itself. Seventy feet below was the inner garden. Hiro-matsu held his breath, aghast at his master’s bravado. He saw him turn and beckon Yabu to stand beside him. Yabu obeyed. The slightest touch could have sent them tumbling to their deaths.

Toranaga eased his kimono and loincloth aside, as did Yabu. Together they urinated and mixed their urine and watched it dew the garden below.

“The last bargain I sealed this way was with the Taikō himself,” Toranaga said, greatly relieved at being able to empty his bladder. He straddled the parapet easily, settling his loincloth comfortably as though he stood in the garden itself, not perched like an eagle so far above. “It was a good bargain for both of us. We conquered the Hojo and took over five thousand heads within the year. Stamped him out and all his tribe. Perhaps you’re right, Kasigi Yabu-san. Perhaps you can help me as I helped the Taikō. Without me, the Taikō would never have become Taikō.”

“I can help to make you sole Regent, Toranaga-sama,” said Yabu. “But not Shōgun.”

“Of course. That’s the one honor I don’t seek, as much as my enemies say I do.” Toranaga jumped down to the safety of the stone flags. He looked back at Yabu who still stood on the narrow parapet adjusting his sash. He was sorely tempted to give him a quick shove for his insolence. Instead he sat down and broke wind loudly.

The scene is effective, because it shows how much Toranaga really does want to (and really should) kill Yabu, and also conveys the samurai code of macho fearlessness for one’s personal safety. Toranaga’s penchant for farting is also amusing.

The heated argument between Captain-General Ferriera and Jesuit leaders Dell’Aqua and Alvito

Chapter 19 gets about as much treatment as chapter 20 — virtually none at all, that is — but in this case it’s no great loss. In the book Ferriera wants Blackthorne dead and suggests even assassinating Toranaga, and it takes repeated objections from Dell ‘Aqua and Alvito to get him to back down. It’s a good chapter but doesn’t need obsessing on screen.

My favorite part of chapter 19 actually comes at the tail end: the brief but very nasty confrontation between Dell’ Aqua and Friar Perez. It’s an immensely entertaining scene, as it shows the fierce rivalry within Catholicism, between the Spanish Franciscans and the Portuguese Jesuits. I reproduce it here:

Suddenly they [Dell’Aqua and Alvito] were distracted by an altercation outside. The door opened and a cowled monk came barefooted into the room, shaking off Father Soldi. “The blessings of Jesus Christ upon you,” he said, his voice rasping with hostility. “May He forgive you your sins.”

“Friar Perez — what are you doing here?” dell’Aqua burst out.

“I’ve come back to this cesspit of a land to proclaim the word of God to the heathen again.”

“But you’re under Edict never to return on pain of immediate death for inciting to riot. You escaped the Nagasaki martyrdom by a miracle and you were ordered —-”

“That was God’s will, and a filthy heathen Edict of a dead maniac has nothing to do with me,” the monk said. He was a short, lean Spaniard with a long unkempt beard. “I’m here to continue God’s work.” He glanced at Father Alvito. “How’s trade, Father?”

“Fortunately for Spain, very good,” Alvito replied icily.

“I don’t spend time in the counting house, Father. I spend it with my flock.”

“That’s commendable,” dell’Aqua said sharply. “But spend it where the Pope ordered — outside of Japan. This is our exclusive province. And it’s also Portuguese territory, not Spanish. Do I have to remind you that three Popes have ordered all denominations out of Japan except us? King Philip also ordered the same.”

“Save your breath, Eminence. The work of God surpasses earthly orders. I’m back and I’ll throw open the doors of the churches and beseech the multitudes to rise up against the ungodly.”

“How many times must you be warned? You can’t treat Japan like an Inca protectorate — peopled with jungle savages who have neither history nor culture. I forbid you to preach and insist you obey Holy orders.”

“We will convert the heathen! Listen, Eminence, there’s another hundred of my brothers in Manila waiting for ships here, good Spaniards all, and lots of our glorious conquistadores to protect us if need be. We’ll preach openly and we’ll wear our robes openly, not skulk about in idolatrous silken shirts like you Jesuits!”

“You must not agitate the authorities or you’ll reduce Mother Church to ashes!”

“I tell you to your face we’re coming back to Japan and we’ll stay in Japan. We’ll preach the Word in spite of you — in spite of any prelate, bishop, king, or even any pope, for the glory of God!” The monk slammed the door behind him.

Flushed with rage, dell’Aqua poured a glass of Madeira. A little of the wine slopped onto the polished surface of his desk. “Those Spaniards will destroy us all.” Dell’ Aqua drank slowly, trying to calm himself. At length he said, “Martin, send some of our people to watch him. And you’d better warn Kiyama and Onoshi at once. There’s no telling what’ll happen if that fool flaunts himself in public.”

“Yes, Eminence.” At the door Alvito hesitated. “First Blackthorne and now Perez. It’s almost too much of a coincidence. Perhaps the Spaniards in Manila knew about Blackthorne and let him come here just to bedevil us.”

Don’t get me wrong: I don’t blame the show writers for omitting this scene. Friar Perez is too minor a character to waste time on in a ten-hour series. But to reiterate, this is precisely the kind of scene Clavell wrote so well in portraying fierce clashes, not only across cultures and religions, but within spheres of influence, in this case global papist ambitions. And I get quite a chuckle out of Friar Perez.

Toranaga, Markio, and Blackthorne on board the Santa Theresa Black Ship

And now here’s the second largest offender of outrageous omissions, and I don’t mean the fact that the Black Ship is used in place of Rodriguez’s ship the Santa Theresa. That’s a trivial change. I’m talking about the fact that in the book, Mariko and Blackthorne accompany Toranaga onto the Portuguese ship, whereupon Blackthorne proceeds to gorge himself on western food and grog that he hasn’t enjoyed in eons, and then gets so sick that he throws up and needs Mariko to nurse him back to normalcy. As she does this in a separate cabin, the bosun of the ship (Pesaro) asks if she’s Blackthorne’s consort, to the outrage of the samurai who is guarding both her and Blackthorne. Here’s the passage from the novel:

The bosun looked back at Blackthorne. “You his doxie?”

“What?” asked Mariko.

“The Ingeles’s doxie?”

“What’s a doxie, senhor?”

“His woman. His mate, you know, senhorita, this pilot’s sweetheart, his jigajig. Doxie.”

“No. No, senhor, I’m not his doxie. Please, would you get some water?”

The bosun nodded and went out.

“That’s the ugliest, foulest-smelling man I’ve ever been near,” the samurai Kana said. “What was he saying?”

“He asked if — if I was one of the pilot’s consorts.”

The samurai went for the door.

“Kana-san!”

“I demand the right on your husband’s behalf to avenge that insult. At once! As though you’d cohabit with any barbarian!”

“Kana-san! Please close the door.”

“You’re Toda Mariko-san! How dare he insult you? The insult must be avenged!”

“It will be, Kana-san, and I thank you. Yes. I give you the right. But we are here at Lord Toranaga’s order. Until he gives his approval it would not be correct for you to do this.”

Kana closed the door reluctantly. “I agree. But I formally ask that you petition Lord Toranaga before we leave.”

“Yes. Thank you for your concern over my honor.”

Things get worse when Pesaro returns and catcalls Mariko for a quickie:

The bosun dropped his voice, keeping his back to the samurai. “You want a quickie?”

“What?” she asked.

“I fancy you, senhorita, eh? What’d you say? There’s a bunk in the next cabin. Send your friend aloft. The Ingeles’s out for an hour yet. I’ll pay the usual.”

“What?”

“You’ll earn a piece of copper — even three if you’re like a stoat, and you’ll straddle the best cock between here and Lisbon, eh? What d’you say?”

The samurai saw her horror. “What is it, Mariko-san?”

Mariko pushed past the bosun, away from the bunk. Her words stumbled. “He … he said …”

Kana drew out his sword instantly but found himself staring into the barrels of two cocked pistols. Nevertheless he began to lunge.

“Stop, Kana-san!” Mariko gasped. “Lord Toranaga forbade any attack until he ordered it!”

“Go on, monkey, come at me, you stink-pissed shithead! You! Tell this monkey to put up his sword or he’ll be a headless sonofabitch before he can fart!”

Mariko was standing within a foot of the bosun. Her right hand was still in her obi, the haft of the stiletto knife still in her palm. But she remembered her duty and took her hand away. “Kana-san, replace your sword. Please. We must obey Lord Toranaga. We must obey him.”

With a supreme effort, Kana did as he was told.

“I’ve a mind to send you to hell, Jappo!”

“Please excuse him, senhor, and me,” Mariko said, trying to sound polite. “There was a mistake, a mis–”

“That monkey-faced bastard pulled a sword. That wasn’t a mistake, by Jesus!”

“Please excuse it, senhor, so sorry.”

All of the altercations with Pesaro should have been included.

As far as the main event of chapter 27 — the sit-down between Ferriera, Dell’Aqua, Alvito, and Toranaga — it’s handled well. Toranaga promises clearance for the Black Ship and increased wealth for Ferriera, for which the Captain-General, in return, must get Toranaga and his retinue of people safely out of the harbor. Toranaga promises Dell’Aqua and Alvito that they can build a church in his home city of Edo, for which they, in return, must turn the Christian regents (Kiyama and Ohno) to his side and defect from Ishido. All of that is fairly true to the book.

Then Ferriera demands something more in return from Toranaga — that the heretic Blackthorne be left behind in Osaka. Ferriera refuses to transport a Protestant heretic to safety and so Blackthorne must stay aboard the galley while all of Toranaga’s retinue boards the Black Ship. Blackthorne must then chase after the Black Ship and use it as a shield to escape the harbor. In the book, of course, Blackthorne is already on the Portuguese ship (and sick from eating like a hog), and so Ferriera’s demand is not that the heretic be left behind in Osaka, but rather that the heretic stay on the ship with him, and indeed be given to him so that he can kill Blackthorne once and for all. Blackthorne then barely flees back to the galley before Ferriera’s men seize him (and then proceeds to chase after the ship he just escaped to escape the harbor). The Ferriera of the TV show is less sadistic than the Ferriera of the book, a lot like the way Yabu was sanitzed in the first episode’s cauldron burning scene.

Verdict

The third episode gets a 7 out of 10 from me. I feel much like the New York Times reviewer who says, “The strength of [the novel] Shogun is in the personal moments, not in indifferently filmed sword fights. I’d rather watch Blackthorne and Rodriguez scream-laughing obscenities at each other, the shifty Lord Yabu switching loyalties from scene to scene, or the continuing emotional ordeal of Fuji whose husband and baby were sacrificed to notions of feudal honor.” Exactly. Action scenes are good, but spectacle only goes so far. If important character and cultural moments from the book continue to be shaved off, this series won’t earn higher than a B for me.

Update: see my review of episode 4.