goblinlipgloss:

In Japanese folklore, the tsukumogami is a household item that has, for whatever reason, obtained a spirit or consciousness. One source says that the object has to reach one hundred years of use; another says that one is formed because the object is used frequently and cherished. I don’t speak or read Japanese myself, so there is probably a better source in the native language that I just can’t access. Additionally, a few different translated sources disagree on what a tsukumogami actually is, which makes this post a little difficult to research for.

Most of the sources agree, however, that the tsukumogami are largely harmless, even if some do like playing tricks on their humans.

Recorded tsukumogami have been anything from a futon to a sake jar to a clock to a tea kettle. These are things that most people use (or used) in their day-to-day lives, and for anything being used daily, reaching one hundred years of use is a monumental achievement. (Please note, however, that the primary source I am using cites disagreement as to whether or not an object has to reach one hundred years old to gain a soul and become a tsukumogami.) Basically, a tsukumogami can be just about anything.

But not everything can be used forever, and that is when a tsukumogami can become angry. Nothing likes being thrown out, after all, let alone something that is used to be treasured.

And we can all agree that, at least until the very last minutes of the film, Sarah treasures her Labyrinth book. This is something Mod T and I have discussed a few times, and why we think a tsukumogami could fit right in to any fan interpretation. She references it, quotes it, memorizes it. It is the first thing we see in the film, and the last thing she touches before the “after party.”

She tucks it away, with care and consideration, after she tucks Toby in to bed, and bequeathed her beloved Lancelot to him.

Originally posted by rorys-books

You see, Sarah was growing up. Soon enough, she was likely to not have time to read the book or act out her favorite scenes from it. Perhaps the book, so well-loved, knew this was happening. Maybe it decided, with its new soul, that it would do just about anything to keep Sarah’s adoration–including ensnaring her within the very story held in its own pages. It just didn’t want to give up that love.

After all, what does Jareth plead for at the very end?

Just fear me, love me…

Well, you know the rest.