Princess Mononoke (1997): The Mystery of Eboshi’s Sympathy and the Bizarre Contradiction of Moro

Hayao Miyazaki’s 1997 fantasy epic, Princess Mononoke(Studio Ghibli Official), is celebrated for its morally complex characters who refuse to be boxed into traditional “good vs. evil” archetypes.

Today, I want to dive into the mysterious, unresolved psychological dynamic surrounding San (Princess Mononoke).

The central figure in this mystery is Lady Eboshi, the ruthless leader of Irontown. Throughout the film, Eboshi displays terrifying emotional detachment and cold pragmatism. Yet, she strangely exhibits a gentle, almost sympathetic patience reserved exclusively for San.

What is the psychological root of Eboshi’s bizarrely soft attitude toward the girl actively trying to assassinate her?

The second figure in this mystery is Moro, the giant wolf god who raised San.

If you watch the film casually, Moro’s maternal ferocity seems perfectly natural. But if you stop and think about it for just one second, Moro’s foundational backstory contains a massive, glaring contradiction.

To solve this mystery, we must first analyze the unsettling sympathy Eboshi shows San, dissect the logical flaw in Moro’s hatred, and ultimately explore three fascinating fan theories that attempt to explain these bizarre character choices.

Why did Lady Eboshi treat her mortal enemy with sympathy, and why did a human-hating wolf raise a human child?

*This is a translated version. The original (Japanese) is available here.

Princess Mononoke (1997) Analysis: The Mysterious Attitudes of Eboshi and Moro

The Unsettling Calm of Lady Eboshi

To fully appreciate Eboshi’s bizarre attitude toward San, we must first establish just how ruthlessly pragmatic she normally is.

In the main story of Princess Mononoke, Lady Eboshi:

While one could argue these choices are tactically “unavoidable” rather than purely “ruthless,” the truly chilling aspect is the sheer speed of her judgment. Eboshi makes life-or-death sacrifices without a microsecond of hesitation.

Yet, when discussing the terrifying, feral girl actively trying to assassinate her, Eboshi says this:

“Without that ancient god, the animals here would be nothing but dumb beasts once more. When the forest has been cleared and the wolves wiped out, this desolate place will be the richest land in the world, and Princess Mononoke will become human.“

Furthermore, when San successfully breaches Irontown and charges forward to slice Eboshi’s throat, Eboshi greets her with a calm, almost affectionate grin. Even when Ashitaka aggressively intervenes, Eboshi continues to casually banter while flawlessly parrying San’s attacks.

Let’s be real: Eboshi is a master swordswoman backed by an army of riflemen. Couldn’t she have effortlessly executed San the second she dropped through the roof?

There has to be a profound psychological reason why she remained so composed and continually spared the girl’s life. What was it?

The Glaring Contradiction of Moro

When you watch Princess Mononoke, Moro’s fierce, maternal defense of San feels incredibly natural and moving. But if you strip away the emotion, Moro’s foundational backstory is built on a massive, glaring contradiction.

That contradiction is: Moro slaughters humans on sight, yet she actively chose to save and raise a human baby.

According to Moro herself, here is how she acquired San:

“I caught her human parents defiling my forest. They threw their baby at my feet as they ran away.”

If Moro harbors a deep, ancient hatred for humans—viewing them as a plague upon the earth—she should have simply eaten the screaming infant right there in the dirt. But she didn’t.

This is a massive logical flaw in a character defined by ruthless natural law. The only reason we, the audience, don’t flag this as a plot hole is because of a deeply ingrained cultural bias: we inherently believe that “dogs are humanity’s best friend.”

More importantly, this bias stems directly from Director Hayao Miyazaki himself. Miyazaki grew up with a beloved dog and holds a deep reverence for canine loyalty.

In the fascinating documentary How Princess Mononoke Was Born, there is a scene where Miyazaki is visibly agonizing over the key animation of a wolf god panting (“hah, hah”) with its tongue hanging out. Staring at the frames, Miyazaki softly mutters:

“I can’t help but remember the dog I used to have.”

(Original Text, in Japanese)
「つい、自分の飼っていた犬を思い出す。」

He then turns to his main staff, including animation director Masahiko Ando, asking for their input on the dog’s subtle movements. When the staff fails to give him the nuanced emotional answer he is looking for, a frustrated Miyazaki sighs:

“You see… you didn’t grow up with a dog that was essentially your other half…”

(Original Text, in Japanese)
「やっぱりね、子供の頃に一心同体の犬と育たなかった・・・」

(You have to feel bad for the staff in that moment.)

But this proves a massive point: could a director who feels this profound, spiritual connection to dogs ever bring himself to draw a wolf god that is 100% pure evil and completely devoid of human empathy?

Miyazaki’s personal bias explains the meta-reason for the plot hole, but there must be an in-universe narrative reason to justify Moro’s “contradiction.”

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From here, let’s explore three fascinating fan theories that attempt to rationalize these bizarre character choices.

We begin with the most famous, explosive theory on the Japanese internet: San is actually Lady Eboshi’s biological daughter.

Princess Mononoke (1997) Lore: The Secret Connection Between Eboshi, Moro, and San

Theory 1: San is Lady Eboshi’s Biological Daughter

The most elegant theory that instantly resolves the bizarre behavior of both Lady Eboshi and Moro is the “San is Eboshi’s child” hypothesis.

While there is absolutely zero definitive proof in the script or official lore books, the sheer explanatory power of this theory makes it incredibly compelling.

If we assume San is Eboshi’s biological daughter, the entire narrative snaps into place:

This is a brilliant storytelling framework. The reason Moro, who couldn’t bring herself to eat an innocent infant, so fiercely detests Lady Eboshi is because Eboshi committed the ultimate sin: a mother abandoning her child.

Again, there is no hard evidence, but proponents of the theory often point to character design. Look closely at the image below:

Don’t they share strikingly similar, fierce facial features? In anime, visual shorthand is often used to imply lineage. It is not unreasonable to assume Miyazaki was dropping a subtle visual hint.

However, this theory requires a massive, slightly forced timeline adjustment. Based on the film’s dialogue, it seems Lady Eboshi arrived at Irontown (bordering the Forest of the Deer God) only recently, right before shooting Nago the Boar God.

For San (who is roughly 15 years old) to be her daughter, the timeline must look like this:

Does the narrative require too much stretching to assume Eboshi conveniently lived near the same forest 15 years prior? Perhaps. But the sheer narrative payoff of this theory is staggering.

Theory 2: Eboshi Abandoned a Different Daughter

If the timeline contortions of Theory 1 are too hard to swallow, there is a slightly modified version that works just as well emotionally.

What if Lady Eboshi did abandon a daughter, but it wasn’t San?

We know Eboshi survived a horrific past as the captive wife of a pirate chieftain. It is highly probable she birthed a child during those dark years.

When she finally executed her bloody escape, she may have been physically unable to rescue the child, forcing her to make the agonizing decision to abandon her own daughter overseas.

Alternatively, if she had a child before she was sold into slavery, she would have been violently separated from her baby when the traffickers took her.

Carrying the crushing, inescapable guilt of losing her child, Eboshi may have forged a silent vow: she would spend the rest of her life providing sanctuary to the abandoned.

Her obsession with buying the contracts of abused brothel workers and protecting marginalized lepers in Irontown perfectly aligns with this trauma-driven mission.

When Eboshi looks at San—a fierce, abandoned girl fighting for her life—she likely projects her own lost daughter onto her. This explains her bizarre, maternal patience.

While this theory is emotionally satisfying and requires zero timeline gymnastics, it unfortunately fails to explain Moro’s contradiction. It doesn’t explain why the wolf god spared San.

Therefore, while it is a fantastic psychological profile of Eboshi, it lacks the complete explanatory power of Theory 1.

Theory 3: San is the Psychological Mirror of Eboshi

Both previous theories rely on the existence of a hypothetical biological daughter. Since we have no hard proof, we must explore a third option based purely on what we actually see in the film: “Eboshi’s internal psychology.”

I recently wrote a deep dive on Lady Eboshi’s true, radical motivations, which you can read here:

Read the full analysis: Lady Eboshi’s True Goal: Why She Was Willing to Let Irontown Burn

In the film, the phrase “kunikuzushi” (toppling the country) is used. While historians argue this simply meant overthrowing a local regional lord, I believe Eboshi’s ambition was far grander.

She wasn’t just trying to conquer a mountain; she wanted to burn the entire patriarchal Japanese hierarchy to the ground. She was waging a war of vengeance against the “world of men” that had caused her indescribable humiliation, slavery, and suffering.

Now, how does a traumatized, radical revolutionary like Eboshi view San?

Let’s review San’s tragic life:

Notice the parallel? The defining core of San’s existence is “violent aggression towards the human world.”

Lady Eboshi is dedicating her life to “kunikuzushi”—destroying the human establishment. The gods, wolves, and boars didn’t enslave her; human men did.

Therefore, when Eboshi looks at San, she doesn’t see a monster. She sees a girl who has completely rejected the human society that Eboshi herself is actively trying to destroy.

San is currently executing the exact same violent rebellion that Eboshi has spent decades meticulously preparing for. San is a pure, uncorrupted manifestation of Eboshi’s own rage.

It is no wonder Eboshi treats her with sympathetic amusement. Looking at San is like looking into a psychological mirror. Eboshi sees her own traumatized, furious younger self reflected in the girl’s hateful eyes.

Admittedly, this profound psychological theory still doesn’t explain “Moro’s contradiction.” But perhaps… we don’t need a complex lore explanation for the wolf. Perhaps we simply accept that “dogs are humanity’s best friend.”

It is the nature of a wild animal to fight back against the humans who attack it, but it is the innate, soulful kindness of a canine to nurture a crying, helpless infant dropped at its feet. This beautiful contradiction is exactly why humans and dogs have forged an unbreakable bond over thousands of years. The least we can do is live our lives striving to be worthy of that loyalty, even when the reality of the natural world is brutally harsh.

These are my personal, obsessive thoughts on the psychological mysteries surrounding San, Eboshi, and Moro. What do you think? The true brilliance of Princess Mononoke is that even decades later, we are still unearthing new, profound discoveries hidden within its frames.

The images used in this article are from Studio Ghibli Works Still Images.