In my various professional and personal intersections—writer, speech-language pathologist, what-have-you—one maxim rings true enough for me to wear it emblazoned across many of my shirts: “Your Words Matter.” Obviously an episode of Shōgun that is all about that is going to check all of the right boxes for me. This one doesn’t disappoint.
But first, we open with villagers from Izu village picking up the bloody body parts strewn all over that field in the last episode. Nagakado wasn’t thinking about those guys when he decided to fire those cannons at Ishido’s men! Poor fellows. It’s a solid visual that serves to convey the impacts of war that the people waging it don’t even consider, the ones immaterial to them but visceral and real for the ones tasked with the cleanup, metaphorically and physically. As they do this dirty work, Toranaga’s big ass army shows up. And who should come riding up alongside him? Freaking Buntaro! (I told you guys. He claims a contingent of ronin helped him fight his way out, but I’m not altogether sure. You?)
Now that he’s back in Izu, it’s time for Toranaga to lay into his kid for being so reckless, and this just might be the most visibly angry we’ve seen the guy. As they hunt with their falcons, he lectures Nagakado on the ways people can use you to do their bidding, just as they train their falcons to do their bidding, and he suggests Yabushige was really the one coordinating the whole killing-Jozen thing. Omi was in Nagakado’s ear, and Yabushige claims everything Omi gets for himself, so...yeah. When Toranaga strips Nagakado of command of the cannon artillery regiment and gives it to Omi, Omi offers it to Yabushige, who responds that it’s always been his, not Omi’s. This uncle/nephew duo is really struggling; they’re trying to find a foothold anywhere they can, be it by cozying up to Toranaga or ingratiating themselves to Yoshido. It will be interesting to see how they ultimately slip up or play into someone’s hand. We know they will. They’re really not being careful with their words and actions or interpreting those of others.
With Buntaro back, Mariko is ordered to continue to serve the Anjin, but to resume her wifely duties to her husband, too. Additionally, they all have to bunk up together in Blackthorne’s hatamoto house now. It’s as awful as you would expect. And it doesn’t help that Fuji put some ideas in Buntaro’s head when he approached her to chide her about being consort to a “barbarian.” He asks her if Blackthorne makes her “pillow” with him, and she calmly retorts that Anjin “prefers the company of other women.” It’s a response certainly intended to do some damage to Buntaro’s ego—because of course he’s reeling now, wondering if that means Mariko has been to Blackthorne’s bed. (We’re wondering, too, after the last episode.)
But it seems Fuji wasn’t considering just how far he would take it when she aimed that barb his way. Blackthorne and Buntaro get wasted on sake one night and say terrible things to each other, with Mariko scrambling to soften each guy’s message to the other as she translates their conversation (because words matter). She even cautions Blackthorne to choose his words carefully and pleads that he remember “The Eightfold Fence.” The scene crescendos with Buntaro insulting Mariko and her family line, then proving his prowess with a bow by shooting arrows directly past his wife’s face, through the walls, and into a fencepost in front of the house. Later, when Blackthorne is attempting to sleep off the sake in the other room, Buntaro shouts at Mariko and beats her. Blackthorne intervenes, chasing Buntaro down as he leaves the house. There’s no translator present for this altercation, but Blackthorne understands from his rival’s deep bow and repetition of the word “sake” that he is blaming the drink and striving for contrition here. He accepts the gesture, but clearly does not respect the man (because, well, he shouldn’t—Buntaro sucks).
That’s not the only drama taking place at Blackthorne’s. Toranaga gives him a pheasant that his falcon caught as a nice little gift, and Blackthorne decides to honor it by hanging it from his house. The very hygiene-conscious folks around him—his poor consult Fuji most of all—are super grossed out by the bird, but with Mariko unavailable, the only way he knows to communicate how serious he is about them leaving it alone is to say something to the effect of “if touch...die,” in Japanese. Here comes another “Your Words Matter” moment, when the folks in the village come together to decide who must suffer that consequence so that they can dispose of the bird in good conscience, and the sweet old gardener Uejirou takes that task upon himself, thus dying (I think by seppuku). He was pretty much Blackthorne’s favorite, so he’s devastated when he finds out that through his own callous word choice, his pal was marked for actual death. Conveniently, though, Toranaga’s spy is able to plant evidence to suggest that Uejirou was actually the spy to appease Omi and Yabushige—and they’re dumb enough to believe it—so that’s a win for Toranaga-sama...for now.
Something intense happens to that guy, though: There’s an earthquake—not a baby one like last time—that makes the cliff crumble underneath Toranaga and he falls, seemingly to his death. While everyone else is pretty resigned to death with all the catastrophes that can take place at any time around them, that’s not Blackthorne’s way. He scampers downhill and digs Toranaga out of the dirt. His swords are lost in the fall, and Blackthorne gives him Fuji’s dad’s pair to replace them. That could buy the guy some loyalty for sure. Unfortunately, when Blackthorne runs back to the village to check on everyone else, he sees that people have died in the quake, and his own friend Fuji has been injured. He’s seeing now what Mariko has been talking about with the whole houses-coming-down thing, maybe understanding a bit more about the practicality of this casual attitude toward death his new friends have.
While all of this has been taking place, the remaining Regents have been debating who should take over that fifth spot on the council cunningly vacated by Toranaga to prevent a vote to impeach him. But guess who’s been whisked over in the tiniest little carriage box we’ve seen yet: Lady Ochiba, the late Taiko’s widow. Upon her arrival at Osaka Castle, she tells Ishido she’s taking over. She’s in charge of the Regents now. We have to trust that she means what she says. Now let’s see how that shakes out.
Stray observations
- The title of this episode is “Broken To The Fist,” which I had assumed indicated a broken bone of some kind? But no, it’s a falconer reference. Toranaga is saying Nagakado is broken to Yabushige’s fist, as in tamed to it. I’m no falconer, but if you are, please tell us about that.
- The night of the sake binge, Blackthorne had attempted to serve everyone in the household an English stew, and they all just about barf except him. They like a good food joke in this show.
- There are some interesting gift exchanges in this episode. Blackthorne gets that pheasant from Toranaga; Ishido gets Nebara Jozen’s head in a box, Seven-style. I don’t think Ishido likes his gift very much.
- Sweet Uejirou teaches Blackthorne about the importance of having a rock in a garden, otherwise “everything is growth.” It’s a beautiful metaphor for having a foundation, some values that are immutable and unchanging.
- Mariko and Blackthorne have an interesting conversation about the nature of what people merit words-wise. She claims to say nothing to Buntaro, “because that’s what he merits.” Meanwhile, she and others say nothing to correct the beautiful but false story that Fuji’s father died a hero (not a coward) and scored his swords honorably (not off a drunk) because “that’s what she merits.” They’re on the outs now because of the whole Buntaro thing. We’ll see how that develops.
- Everyone, Blackthorne included, evokes the norm (in English and Japanese culture) that “a wife is a man’s property and he can do with her whatever he wants” before raising any objection to problematic behavior. When Toranaga discovers the abuse, he says that he doesn’t want his translator harmed—it’s all about her role in his universe, not her as a person. Misogyny: the age-old bummer.