The picturesque city of Matsue, celebrated for its samurai heritage and its past as a feudal town, recently found itself at the heart of a controversy that seemed almost too absurd to be true. A planned “seppuku contest” was advertised in a local newspaper as a spectacle like no other. Seppuku, sometimes known as harakiri, refers to ritual suicide by disembowelment that was performed by samurai to uphold their honor.
The idea was that participants would wield plastic retractable swords, mimicking the solemn ritual of samurai suicide, and dramatically writhe in “agony” for 30 to 60 seconds to compete for the title of “Best Performer.” To top it off, the advertisement concluded with the perplexing remark: “Fake blood prohibited.”
A Flea Market’s Fatal Error
The event was slated for December at Dandan Terrace, a newly renovated public space in Matsue City Hall overlooking the serene Lake Shinji. City officials, however, were stunned when they spotted the announcement. They had approved a flea market, not a theatrical — and highly questionable — reenactment of ritual disembowelment.
One of the event’s organizers was a business dealing in toys and similar products. The plan was to have participants pretend to commit seppuku using one of its products and then compete in a contest showcasing their dramatic acting skills.
“We’ve participated in various events as vendors, and the idea originated when a girl from one group of attendees mimicked stabbing herself in the stomach with one of our retractable plastic swords. We thought it might be entertaining if people acted that out as a performance,” said the event organizer.
Reactions to the Event
Social media erupted as soon as the event details were revealed. There were some curious supporters who expressed interest, with some jokingly asking, “Is this a regular thing in Matsue?” or remarking that they would participate if they lived closer.
At the same time, criticism poured in, highlighting the tastelessness of trivializing seppuku. Comments ranged from “Seppuku isn’t a game, this is disgraceful,” to “Watching people writhe around for entertainment? That’s just gross.” Many were shocked it was scheduled at a city hall, of all places.
Faced with public backlash, the event was canceled, and organizers apologized, explaining that the mix-up was a misguided attempt to inject excitement into the otherwise unremarkable flea market. Previous efforts, such as raffles and dance performances, had failed to attract significant crowds. They hoped the seppuku contest would create a buzz and draw in curious onlookers. It might have done had it gone ahead. It certainly got people talking.
