Symbols and Motifs
The first couple of chapters of Blood On The Tracks presents an ordinary Japanese family, but hints at something insidious creeping under the surface.
From an outside perspective, the Osabe family is living the dream! Ichiro has a steady job (so they live in a big, comfy house), they have a nice car, and Seiichi is a straight-A student. Despite appearances, it becomes apparent for the readers that the boy lives in an unbalanced family unit in which his dad doesn’t participate in his education.
Early on, we witness Seiichi wanting to hang out with his classmates, as well as with the girl he’s in love with, all the while feeling visibly embarrassed by his mother’s physical manifestations of affection. Just like any other 13-year-old! No one would blame us for believing that no harm could ever come to this family, except that it’s a Shūzō Oshimi manga. The author makes his well-earned reputation work in his favor right from page one. Soon, what seems to be a story about a nice Japanese family, becomes something else entirely.
The way the mother talks to her son, the way she keeps him close when he wants to go out of the house is disturbing, and the way they share strange, lingering looks make us feel very uncomfortable and icky. The reason we feel so queasy when we read it is because there seems to be a secret between them that the audience is not privy to. An unspeakable truth. Like the mystery with the white cat.
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| White cat by the side of the road |
Why does a dead cat feature in the first page of Blood On The Tracks? What is that cat symbolic of? For the young Seiichi, it’s his first direct contact with Death – a memory that haunts his dreams in adolescence. In the first chapter, we see him petting the dead cat after his mother gives him permission. When he asks why the cat is dead, he is met with no explanation, just a puzzling smile. How is a toddler supposed to deal with Death? I believe the cat represents the fragility of life, like the memento mori paintings of old.
Seeing that it is a recurring dream throughout the manga, it’s natural to wonder what other significance it may have. Cats are very independent creatures, so that’s what they usually symbolize in Literature. White is symbolic of innocence and purity. When Seiichi equates the cat to himself, the meaning becomes apparent. On that day, the boy was deprived of his independence as a human being, and has felt utterly abandoned ever since. The memory rambles around in his brain as a manifestation of his loss, and a warning of how that memory is connected to his mother.
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| Dead and abandoned |
In Japanese folklore, white cats are often seen as symbols of purity, and they are believed to bring prosperity and happiness to those who own them, hence the conspicuous presence of Maneki-neko figurines in Japanese stores and homes. In the reverse symbolism, cats are often associated with death. The nekomata is a yōkai (a group of supernatural entities and spirits of Japanese folklore) is said to have powers of necromancy.
Another white cat appears in chapter 128 – an animal that seems to live with Seiko, who she calls “Mii”. Just like the dead cat from chapter 1, Seiichi identifies himself with me after watching his mother desperately searching for him in the early typhoon rain, in a manner similar to how she looked for her son in chapter 42. Seiichi is also not indifferent with the manner with which the elderly Seiko fusses over Mii, watching it eating the food she prepares for it. Seiichi’s identification with Mii, seeing himself in its interactions with his mother, underscores the emotional connection he shares with Seiko, and the immutable longing for her love and attention.
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| Looking to Mii |
Upon learning about his mother’s past, Seiichi realizes both of them were “killed” as children by way of abuse. And, all at once, his old desire to bring himself back to life – which he expressed to Fukiishi in chapter 81 – manifests itself in chapter 138. It’s a symbolic representation of Seiichi’s journey to heal from his trauma and to find hope for a better future. The cat comes to represent both Seiichi and Seiko’s souls, before the abuse “killed” them, and its revival is a sign that he is willing to give himself the chance to overcome his trauma.
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| Reviving their souls |
The white cat contrasts with a bicolor cat, basking in the summer sun, which Fukiishi pets in chapter 3. Thematically, it creates a sharp contrast between the two most significant people in Seiichi’s life. Even though he may be unaware of this distinction, the readers can easily connect the dots. The cat is the only symbol that Seiko and Fukiishi share, but far from the only parallel.
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| Live cat |
The kids share their own symbols, which take their relationship in a different path. A sound that is obvious when they’re walking home together for the first time is a chorus of chirping cicadas. Never mind that cicadas only chirp when they’re looking for a mate, so their “song” is inherently “romantic” but, as a symbol of spiritual awakening, cicadas represent the cycle of change and development after a long period of seclusion. It is truly a hopeful “song” that graces the young kids’ walk, after they’ve been isolated for so long, a kind of revitalization of their spirits.
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| Walk after school |
The dragonfly is another insect that appears when Seiichi and Fukiishi get together after school. Very common in Japan during the summer, dragonflies symbolize courage, inner strength, victory and happiness. Whenever dragonflies are present in the manga, Seiichi manages to overcome his deep stutter and triumph in class, reading a text out loud. After that, both he and Fukiishi overcome their shyness and forge a closer bond of their own. The brief moments they share in that remote, luminous park feel like that little corner of town is their personal Arcadia. Everything is simple, peaceful and happy. It contrasts heavily with Seiichi’s home, oftentimes depicted with heavy hatching, rendering it a wicked and unsafe place.
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| After-school fun |
Nyūdō clouds (cumulonimbus clouds) are a major part of the Japanese skyline, especially during summer. Used frequently in Blood On The Tracks, Shūzō Oshimi emphasizes these towering clouds during moments of conflict, tension, and impending turmoil. One of the most famous displays is in chapter 5, as a backdrop against Shigeru while he is at the cliff. Nyūdō clouds are also heavily displayed in chapters 3 and 118 (two significant chapters for Seiichi and Fukiishi). This recurring appearance of Nyūdō clouds when they come together could signify the intense feelings between them, the underlying issues in their home lives that dominate their bond, and the mortal danger their connection entails for both of them. The stormy imagery suggests they’re bound to face obstacles and complications.
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| Thundercloud in chapter 3 |
Regarding chapter 118, when Seiichi sees Fukiishi in the cemetery, the Nyūdō clouds can be a manifestation of his inner turmoil. They often bring catharsis and a release of pent-up energy by creating thunderstorms. so the presence of cumulonimbus clouds symbolizes the emotional release from Seiichi’s pent-up emotions, leading to a cathartic moment where he’s able to say goodbye to her.
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| Thundercloud in chapter 118 |
Everything else the boy has in his life was given to him by his mother. Imposed, actually! Seiko has micromanaged every second of her son’s life since he was a baby. The manga’s synopsis calls the mother “overprotective”, but it’s safe to say that is an understatement. For Seiichi, going against his mother’s wishes is like hitting a brick wall. Any moment the boy attempts any kind of physical or emotional independence is met with suspicion and resistance. Eventually, we come to understand (through his own understanding) that Seiko will never forgo control of her relationship with her son.
This is evident on many of his basic daily routines, such as the choice for breakfast. One of the biggest motifs in Blood On The Tracks is when Seiko wakes her son up every morning at 7 AM, and asks him what he wants for breakfast. It’s not an innocent question. It’s not a question at all! As cryptic as it may sound, the ‘pork bun vs. red bean bun’ is not a matter of nutrition or choice here, because she never lets him choose. His answer reveals the illusion of choice – the illusion of freedom, the safety bubble that he believes exists for his benefit.
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| Pork bun? |
Throughout the story, food is constantly weaponized to either punish or encourage Seiichi. The ‘pork bun vs. red bean bun’ resurfaces after Seiichi lies for his mother. After the inhumane act he witnessed that day, that seemingly ordinary question gains a whole new meaning. It’s hard not to notice the terror in the boy’s eyes when he is faced with that choice, as if that day had never happened. It’s a return to ‘business as usual’. Sometimes, Seiko suggests breakfast choices to her son. The day after the incident, she offers him a tuna with mayonnaise rice ball, which he accepts without looking at her.
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| Pizza mix |
There is a distinct moment when we understand what lies beneath these simple questions. After Seiichi points to a pizza mix in a restaurant menu, Seiko nullifies his request and orders a dish of fried octopus instead. Then, she serves herself first. It would seem innocent enough, if we didn’t know the disturbing dynamic between these two. Even when the boy says he’ll have the pork bun, as a way of acquiescing to his mother (making her genuinely happy) she changes the menu again, and cooks him a fried egg with sardines. Because, in the end, these questions have nothing to do with food. They’re the unmistakable manifestations of the mother asserting her will, while denying her child any shred of agency or respect.
This basic need is weaponized to either bring Seiichi back to her side, or reward him when she considers he did a good deed. That’s exactly what’s peculiar about the mother. It’s not whether the boy has a good heart and is growing up to be a good person or even a productive member of society, it’s about whether or not he behaves according to her whims.
Conversely, in chapter 143, Seiichi feeds a meat bun to his convalescing mother in the hopes that she recovers from her accident. Even though the power dynamic between mother and son has changed completely, Seiichi doesn’t take this opportunity to get revenge on his mother for years of feeding him convenience store food he detested.
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| Meat bun |
There is an animal that is particularly connected to Seiko: the butterfly. Butterflies have always been creatures with various symbolism attached. Some cultures see them as good omens, others as bad omens. There are, however, certain universal characteristics that allow for certain interpretations. In Greek mythology, Psyche is represented as a butterfly, and it symbolizes the soul. Since the animal undergoes metamorphosis, it’s commonly used as a symbol of transformation – of going through different stages of spiritual awakening. Because they are incredibly fragile and have a short life-span, they symbolize the frailty and brevity of human existence. Artists like Adriaen van Nieulandt used to create Vanitas paintings, including butterflies to symbolize the brevity and ephemeral nature of life. It’s curious that the monarch butterfly is the official emblem of Mission Mental Health Awareness.
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| Even the butterflies break the fourth wall |
Oshimi seems to have taken that idea and used it backwards. Blood On The Tracks explores the butterfly as a symbol for transformation in the protagonist’s psyche. Something happened long ago to Seiichi; that knowledge was buried in his subconscious for 10 years, and now he has a fleeting awakening when he sees it happening again. This mimics the stages of a butterfly’s development: from caterpillar, to its pupal stage, to the final blossoming as an adult. It also mimics the different stages until madness fully manifests.
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| Madness |
Because the manga is black and white, it could be strange to say that the butterflies are white with black spots. It would be, if not for Seiichi telling us that they are indeed black and white in chapter 74. The Large Tree Nymph has that exact color pattern. Of course, I can’t confirm whether the author was thinking of this butterfly when he drew them, but it’s too perfect that, in a story about a toxic mother, and the consequences of Seiichi’s upbringing, Oshimi would use a poisonous butterfly as a motif.
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| Large Tree Nymph, or Paper Kite butterfly |
The frailty of life, and the eminence of death is equally apparent in the symbolic use of snow. Like butterflies, snow is also an element imbued with several meanings across the history of Literature. The author makes a few of those meanings quite clear. Heavy snow is falling outside of Seiichi’s house. First, the narrator mentions a time of hope, but it quickly becomes apparent that all the painful feelings that have been frozen under the surface of his conscience are being brought back. Pretty soon, all of his emotional wounds overwhelm him and, at once, his soul short-circuits. Oftentimes in Literature, snow has been symbolic of death. The blizzard seems to engulf Seiichi forever in its bleakness, effectively killing whomever he used to be, destroying his future. In chapter 140, however, snow has the inverse symbolic meaning: it evokes a sense of purity and a new beginning for the kid.
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| The blizzard of death |
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| The snow of hope |
Just like the snow, but in reverse, there’s a motif of sheer darkness in this manga. Sometimes, Seiichi (but mostly Seiko) is completely enveloped by darkness. The darkness (sometimes, just heavy cross-hatching, other times just black ink) envelops all of their features, rendering them impossible to decipher, especially in a manga that puts so much emphasis on facial features and body language. In chapter 30, and 87, Seiko is represented as nothing more than a black hole. In chapter 87, after Seiichi talks about every bad thing she did to him, and puts the blame squarely where it belongs for the first time in his life, her darkness slowly starts falling on him, until he is as unrecognizable as she is. I believe this darkness symbolizes how, at first, the boy attempts to understand his mother unsuccessfully and, as the story progresses, and he becomes enveloped by the same darkness, it reflects the notion that he has no idea who he is, because he was never allowed to develop his own identity.
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| Darkness |
This doubt about his identity even reflects itself in his relationship with Fukiishi. In chapter 38, while they share a tender embrace, darkness takes over him completely, rendering him a shapeless shadow of a human being. Seiichi, like the first kanji of his name would suggest, is also a very still, passive boy, completely alienated from the warmth of humanity and the feeling of Love, except with her. The only person he displays genuine emotion to, is with her. She gives him the courage to stand up for himself. On the other hand, we have Fukiishi, who is warm-hearted and displays a greater independence of thought and action, making her more assertive than him. But not by much, since she still harbors many insecurities. Together, they make this kind of strange Yin Yang symbol.
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| Yin yang |
The boy’s doubts about his identity and his place in the world permeate the entire manga, as it can be seen in chapter 103, where only this shapeless shadow wanders through the streets of Kiryū, completely lost, like a delayed cadaver – a living ghost.
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| Wandering the streets |
Speaking of cadavers, there’s a peculiar bird that appears in chapter 4 and chapter 95. Before the events of the mountain, and after Shigeru is found by the police, a large bird of prey (possibly a buzzard or a vulture) is seen soaring in the sky. That’s an interesting sight, since buzzards and vultures are symbolically associated with death and loss, due to them being Nature’s undertakers. This symbol is repeated not for the benefit of the characters, but for the benefit of the audience. Especially in chapter 95: the bird looms ever closer to Seiichi and, once the cops find his cousin, the bird hovers over the boy. Of course, Seiichi doesn't know what the bird means, but his life takes a significant turn yet again. Evidently, I can’t prove it’s a buzzard or a vulture; it’s my best guess from the bird’s wingspan, and how the symbolism would fit with the story and Seiichi’s character development. It’s a bad omen for sure, and it serves to instill a sense of dread in the reader, a sense of inevitable, impending doom. And, indeed, both times we see the bird soaring in the sky, the plot changes radically, and so does Seiichi’s fate... for the worse.
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| Buzzards |
Rain is a versatile symbol in literature, full of different possible meanings. In the manga, rain is used in four specific circumstances to convey two different meanings. The chapters where Seiko is chasing her son after he spends the night at Fukiishi’s house, her performance as a wailing mother happens with her being soaked in the intense rain. Those following chapters, while Seiichi is being tortured and brainwashed by his mother are punctuated by heavy rain. The chapters where Seiichi finds out that his father is in the hospital are also punctuated by heavy rain. When the typhoon hits Tokyo, Seiichi goes out in the rain to see his mother, and then they both roam the streets looking for Mii. The last time we see rain it’s in Seiichi’s imagination in chapter 149. In the first three examples, rain is symbolic of loss and grief, as well as Seiichi’s regret for abandoning his mother, and the despair and hopelessness after Seiko throws him out of the house. It is also symbolic of the grief he feels towards his father and his imminent death. Both in the case of the conversation between mother and son in the night of the typhoon and chapter 149, rain symbolize cleansing and understanding, washing away the guilt and the ignorance, allowing for a feeling of renewal.
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| Tragic vs. hopeful rain |
Another motif in the manga is how
Another motif in the manga is how dehumanized Seiichi feels in the world he lives in. From the father who barely shares a conversation with him, to the extended family who pretty much ignore him, to the teachers who never notice how he’s rapidly changing for the worse. The more obvious offenders, however, are the guards at the juvenile facility. They never call him by his name, instead addressing him as “Room 14”. His treatment at the facility is strangely similar to his treatment at home. The boy is not allowed to make any decision about his fate, nor does he have a say regarding any activity in his schedule. The reason he adapts so well to that place reflects his 13-year-old experience while living in that gilded cage he called home.
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| Not Seiichi anymore. |
