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Of all the thoughts I had playing Pokemon Legends: Arceus, “what the heck is up with all this Greek stuff” was definitely the most common. The game takes place in what is fairly clearly an alternate-universe Japan, which is made very clear to the player through costume design, calligraphic fonts, various references to Japanese folklore in the form of Pokemon, and the very obvious fact that the map and setting are based directly on Hokkaido. Gen 4, also based on Hokkaido, had a very similar map, while Gen 3 was based on Kyushu, Gen 2 on the Kansai region, and Gen 1 on Kanto (it’s also… named Kanto).
That makes it all the more surprising that Greek stuff, or Greco-Roman stuff, is suddenly everywhere in Hisui. There is some kind of a ruin on every major map. In some areas, especially the Coronet Highlands and Crimson Mirelands, you can barely move without tripping over old, dirty, discolored Greco-Roman pillars sunk in the mud. We even get some complete buildings also made in masonry; all of these stick out for how different their architecture is from the dominantly wooden architecture used by both the Hisui clans and Jubilife Village. And what else sticks out as so not Japanese as the Temple of Sinnoh, which appears to be directly based on the Parthenon? It’s extremely similar, down to its comparable proportions, the placement of its foundation and pediment, and the fact that it’s painted blue just like the original Parthenon.* In the game’s true ending, the actual antagonist even comes out in specifically Greek clothing* and insists that he shares a culture and genetic heritage with the people who built these ruins, and that he therefore deserves the favor of the gods.
[The Temple of Sinnoh, the Parthenon today, and a virtual reconstruction of the Parthenon]
So where on Earth did the idea that there could have been ancient Greeks anywhere near Japan long, long ago in the past… come from? Surely we’d expect to see influences from China or India, long connected to Japan through the history of Buddhism, instead?
Ever since the 1890s, people have been arguing that there was Greek influence on ancient Japan, dating back to 600-700 CE. There is one extremely popular theory about cultural contact between the ancient Greeks and Japan, and it’s directly tied to architecture and ruins. As a caveat, this is well in the realm of historical conspiracy theories—there isn’t any direct evidence to support this idea, but it enjoys extensive popularity nonetheless. That said, the idea is seductive in its scope and potential, and there’s no direct evidence against it either. In short, the Greek contact theory runs wild with evidence from 7th century Japan, based on one temple, Hōryū-ji, to posit that ancient Greece was a foundational influence on Japanese culture. This seems to be a direct inspiration for the environment and deep lore of Legends: Arceus.
[The Middle Gate at Hōryū-ji]
So, what is Hōryū-ji? Hōryū-ji is a Buddhist temple complex whose multiple buildings (including the middle gate and a pagoda) date back to at least 670 CE, earning it the status of the oldest wooden building in Japan and in the world. The temple is so old that there is no comparable structure that can help explain its unique features, making it the perfect building for some wild speculation. And a few elements in Hōryū-ji’s design caught the attention of historians in the 1880s and 1890s. Hōryū-ji’s pillars seem to thicken in the middle and narrow at the top and bottom; in other words, they seem to use entasis, the principle of Greek architecture in which pillars thickened in the middle and tapered off at the top and bottom to give an overall visual sense of balance. The same historians further noted that the tops of the pillars appeared to resemble those of ionic columns.
[A diagram of entasis and examples of entasis at Hōryū-ji]
But architectural historians of the 1880s and 1890s didn’t stop at the pillars. The overall plan of the temple supported further parallels with Greek temples, they pointed out, especially the proportions and slope of the roofs. Illustrations from this research put Greek temples and Hōryū-ji’s buildings side by side to show this similarity (below). Further, the site holds unusual relief carvings in clay showing major scenes from the history of Buddhism, which prompted historians to speculate on inspiration from Greek carvings on stone.
[A comparison of a Greek temple with the Middle Gate at Hōryū-ji]
Just how popular is this theory? So much so that it has reached the level of a “popular legend.” The theory is widely known among Japanese people, and it’s said that every tour of Hōryū-ji mentions the theory. The cultural historian Inoue Shoichi has written a very helpful book on the history of these ideas of the Greek contact theory, and points out that it even appears in history books aimed at elementary school children:
(Quoting the children’s book) “The pillars, with a shape that thickens in the middle, resemble the pillars of Greek temples from before the common era. In the distant past and over a long period of time, the culture that flourished in Greece moved along the trade route known as the “Silk Road”, was passed through China and Korea, and took root in (Nara,) Japan through the work of technicians of the Paekche Kingdom.”
Clearly, the notion of Greek influence on Japanese architecture is romantic and compelling. It has had remarkable staying power and widespread appeal, especially since the 1940s. I’d like to point out two important elements that the theory requires. First, the presence of an actual person who knows how to design and build this architecture. Historians rightfully suggest Koreans, but Legends: Arceus takes it a step further to suggest that an ancient, forgotten race was living in Japan all along and built this unusual, striking architecture. Second, it requires ruins. The idea of a secret history of international, ancient connections lying in wait in the old temples of Nara was immensely compelling to the Japanese people. Importantly, the same people who first suggested the Greek contact theory described Hōryū-ji as a ruin, where traces of the ancient past were forgotten and lost to history.
“When one arrives at Hōryū-ji and first faces the south gate (nandaimon), there is a
dignity that has not succumbed to the deep wounds from battling hundreds of years
of rain and dew. The roof is like the open wings of a phoenix and its curve resembles
the powerful footprint of a lion. But upon entering the gate and visiting the
office, its considerable dilapidation appears. Floors are rotten and weeds are sprouting
up; pillars are decayed and a strange fungus is apparent… When one enters the compound
(garan), the unparalleled craftsmanship of long ago, the Asuka (Suiko) period, is
relived: the wonderful beauty of the layout of the gate, corridors, main hall, and
pagoda tower; the indescribably noble style of that form; and the remarkable design
of the columns, bracketing, rafters, curved railing, etc. But, unless one seriously undertakes
repairs, the damage will lead to a sorrowful state—the columns will bend
and lean, the main hall will fall into ruins, sacred objects will scatter, and the tower
will collapse—like when the cranes leave.” (Itō Chūta’s account of Hōryū-ji)
Legends: Arceus recreates this romantic experience of discovering a lost and forgotten history. Throughout the game, you discover scattered and destroyed columns and walls; you even experience the dilapidated glory of the Temple of Sinnoh only to bear witness to its erasure shortly afterwards. Your character trips over ruins the whole game and slowly learns the significance of their connection to the Celestican people—but then all of it is lost, decayed or destroyed, by the present era.
So in the real world, what reason was offered for this apparent connection between Greece and Japan? Authors leapt to the idea of a direct source of influence from the West. Inoue Shouichi argues convincingly that this theory of Hōryū-ji developed at the same time the idea of the Silk Road emerged. The Silk Road concepts posits a network of trade stretching from Greece, through the Middle East, China, and Korea, to finally end up in Japan. In support of this idea, a major imperial collection dating from roughly the same time as Hōryū-ji holds objects whose craftmanship and materials can potentially be traced to these international cultural centers. This was the first stage of the Hōryū-ji contact theory: one of general exchange of cultural styles and knowledge that provided architectural and aesthetic models. Reporters covered a major survey of surviving Japanese art and architectural sites at this time, including Hōryū-ji, and were responsible for the initial promotion of this idea to the general public even at this early stage.
This theory was refined further, allowing Japanese historians to start to conceptualize Ancient Greece as the basis of Japanese architecture and culture. A later generation of research pointed to a much more specific source of potential Greek influence on 6th and 7th century Japan: the ancient kingdom of Gandhara, especially from 327 BCE on. This kingdom included sections of North-East Pakistan and North-West Afghanistan. It is especially known for its “Gandhara art style,” a unique fusion of Greek sculpture and relief carvings and Buddhist subject matter that generated new interest in creating Buddhist art. while unclear, it may have been pivotal in prompting the profusion of Buddhist art in the following two millennia. Greek influence was initially spread to the region by Alexander the Great, who conquered Gandhara in 327 BCE. The region was captured by a Buddhist ruler, then recaptured by the Greeks, and eventually returned to devout Buddhist leaders who helped spread their religion and its art Eastward into China. In the Hōryū-ji contact theory, it was this close connection between Greek rulers and Buddhist kingdoms that allowed the transfer of Greek architectural techniques and aesthetics to Japan. This version of the theory is much more similar to what we see in Arceus, as it brings the ancient Greeks deeper into Asia as a living physical presence.
Legends: Arceus takes these subtle ideas of cultural transfer, well-established in the popular imagination as an explanation for Hōryū-ji’s design, and presents them in an exaggerated form. The game makes this context much more direct, effectively introducing Greeks as the original residents of Hokkaido. This is an extreme version of the contact theory, in which Greeks directly inhabited Japan and filled the land with their own temples and dwellings; notably, Hisui is even referred to as their original home, from which they emanated across the world.
The Pokemon universe even imagines a case where the Celestican people brought their architectural style deeper into Poke-Japan: The construction of the Sinjoh ruins with the people of Johto. The Sinjoh ruins, of course, have the same architecture in masonry that we see throughout Hisui, and share the massive pillars and sculptures of Pokemon with the Temple of Sinnoh. This seems inspired by the Hōryū-ji contact theory as well, effectively playing the story out again in the Pokemon world.
The Greek contact theory of Hōryū-ji presents a very romantic notion of ancient Japan as connected to a thriving, international civilization. This idea seems to be the inspiration for the Celestican people, whose ruins cross multiple regions and provide the cultural basis for understanding the myths and legends of Arceus itself. So when you play PLA, you’re in part playing out this historical fantasy that Japanese people hold about Hōryū-ji, rediscovering a lost people and ancient civilization through ruins that seem to come from a distant place altogether.
I opened this post with a caveat and I want to provide one important corrective to this theory. To be very clear, it is within the realm of possibility that someone in East Asia knew of Greek architecture and brought it to Japan. But if anyone played a role transferring Greek architecture, it was probably not the Greeks themselves but Korean engineers and craftspeople instead. Korean specialists were by far the most likely people to have travelled to Japan and influenced Hōryū-ji in Nara, just like they influenced ceramics, language, and tomb architecture across Japan. There’s another very early temple to the North of Kyoto that Koreans are thought to have collaborated with Japanese people to build, and it may be the inspiration for the Sinjoh ruins—but that’s a theory for another post.
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One last point. You may be wondering why anyone would know this specific theory. After all, it’s based on just one temple. How can we assume that the people at Gamefreak know of this temple? Sure, it’s popular knowledge and based on the throngs of schoolchildren constantly at the site it seems like every Japanese person has visited at least once on a field trip, but can we know for sure that they were aware of this temple and this theory?
Hōryū-ji has been in the Pokemon world since Gen 2. It’s directly represented as the Sprout Tower in Violet City in Johto. Just like Ecruteak City is modelled on Kyoto, with particular focus on the Gold and Silver Pavilions on each side of Kyoto (represented as the Brass and Bell towers, respectively), Violet City includes a famous landmark from Nara.
The contact theory is not the only mystery for which Hōryū-ji is famous. The five-story pagoda at Hōryū-ji is also known for its enormous internal pillar, about a hundred feet tall and solid wood, made from a cypress tree felled in 594 CE. For decades, architectural historians assumed that the pillar was a primary load-bearing column for the entire pagoda. This was a widespread assumption for some time, and several American skyscrapers are similarly designed with rigid wooden cores following the (mistaken) inspiration of Hōryū-ji. However, during a series of repairs made to the building in 1926, it was discovered that the pillar had rotted away completely at the base and did not even touch the ground, but was suspended several feet in the air. It is instead the pagoda’s complex bracket system that supports the weight of the structure and the central pillar, and the pillar plays a completely different role. During Japan’s frequent earthquakes and also under high wind conditions, the pillar transfers lateral forces between the different stories on opposite sides. During an earthquake, the tower thus seems wiggle like a snake, as a floor moving to the right pushes the pillar and thus a lower floor to the left, and vice versa. This principle is known as jūkōzō, and it is widely used in skyscrapers today. It's how the pagoda has survived for over 1300 years.
[Hōryū-ji’s pagoda and the Sprout Tower in the anime]
Notably, this is exactly how the Sprout Tower is described: its giant 100-ft wooden pillar sways freely and helps stabilize the building from earthquakes and the intense trainer battles that take place there. This makes it exactly the same size as Hōryū-ji*. The temple is even described as an architectural marvel, with tourists coming to witness its unique architecture for themselves. It’s also staffed by Buddhist monks, in reference to Hōryū-ji’s status as a prominent Buddhist temple. Interestingly, the monks focus on the themes that became the main lessons of Legends: Arceus, emphasizing the bonds between trainer and Pokemon, the need for collaboration to build a brighter future, and rejecting the idea of Pokemon as “tools of war.”
[The Sprout Tower’s central pillar and the exterior of the Sprout Tower, HGSS]
For a company to be this familiar with the architecture of Nara and specifically of Hōryū-ji, going so far as to recreate it as the only representative structure of Nara, it’s also extremely likely that they’re also familiar with the idea of the influence of Greek culture on the temple itself.
*Thank you to Whiscash for pointing out the significance of the blue paint!
*Thank you BlackJackGabbiani for pointing out that the antagonist wears a Greek chiton, not Roman clothing.
* The Bulbapedia entry suggests that the Sprout Tower may be based on either the pagoda of Hōryū-ji or Kofuku-ji. However, Hōryū-ji’s pagoda is a much closer match. Hōryū-ji’s pagoda (and thus its central pillar) is roughly 100ft tall (at 106ft, including its spire) while Kofuku-ji‘s pagoda is much larger at roughly 150ft. Hōryū-ji also has a stronger public profile in general as it was Japan’s first UNESCO world heritage site, is the oldest wooden building in the world, and has been the site of major engineering discoveries as outlined in this post.