Oregairu 1.2

The exposition continues with Hachiman's monologue on human pack behavior, namely by observing popular cliques and the groups of the unpopular. That is where the social power lies, so the popular do whatever they will, and the unpopular suffer what they must in the hopes of becoming popular themselves. There is a lot there worthy of contempt as superficial, and Hachiman sees that. He likens it to a zero-sum game of alphas and non-alphas. It produces the flighty, superficial behavior Yui tried unsuccessfully to defend in the pilot, and Hachiman rejects it as destructive to the individual, save when that individual is the alpha, in which case he can force his opinions and personality on the unpopular.

The alternative to this of course is genuine friendship, and Sensei is clearly trying to cultivate that between him and Yukino by asking him what he thinks of her. It is not a surprise that he is unwilling to be forthright with her, so he claims to hate Yukino. Liar! Sensei ignores this (she's probably smart enough to see through it easily) and makes a surprising observation: both he and Yukino are twisted into their current views, and they're both twisted in similar ways. Everyone is fond of saying that Hachiman is "rotten" or "dead inside," but it is equally true of Yukino, though of course it manifests differently in her. She is actually more venomous, more angry than Hachiman, who is already restraining her outbursts. I don't know whether Sensei means for her explanation of Yukino's behavior is meant to illuminate Hachiman's or not, but it does. Both of them have experienced cruelty, but both probably have immense capacities for others, as Yui  clearly does, for her conformist tendencies seem to come from a desire for others, not something self-centered. The others, by contrast, have largely retreated from this sort of behavior.

Speaking of Yui, she is already in an interesting place, in the process of separating herself from the alpha pack. She does not want to reject it completely and thus sever the accompanying friendships, even if they are (as I'm pretty sure they are) on the superficial side. Her solo attempt to do this is almost entirely unsuccessful, because she is afraid of confrontation and is easily reduced to tears. Yumiko surely knows this, which is probably why she exploits it, claiming to want "straight talking" while bullying Yui into a place of cowed, acquiescent silence. She has to be in control all the time, forcing her opinions on her social subordinates, and when she can't, she becomes flustered and defensive. After Yukino's hilarious intervention, which exemplifies her extremely funny, barbed cruelty, when Yui actually does have a chance to speak frankly, Yumiko can do nothing but pretend indifference and hide behind her phone. But the battle has been won anyway; thanks to Yukino's (and, to a lesser extent, Hachiman's) intervention, the separation is achieved. 

Strangely, it is Hayama, the Popularity King, who keeps the conflict between Yumiko and Yukino from escalating, though of course not resolved. He actually seems like a nice guy, not scum. Mark that cliche averted. 

Yui's explanation of what draws her to Yukino and Hachiman is beautiful. "They say what they mean, they know what people want but don't force themselves to do it." As the pilot hinted, that has made her realize the stupidity of mindless social conformity: put briefly, it's a self-contradictory, incoherent means of communion, for the individual self is lost, and genuine communion can only grow between full, not partial, persons. She will no longer be stunted by the need to run with the pack, and is the quickest of the three to realize the way she needed to change. Neither Hachiman nor Yukino have any inkling they have any need to change, much less concrete ways of changing. Yui is light years ahead of them, even though it was their example that awoke her to it. Granted, her explanation of it to Yumiko is a description only of the best parts of Hachiman and Yukino - she does not mention how they can be totally awful human beings (e,g, the way Hachiman treated her in the pilot, and how Yukino seems to relish social cruelty so long as it is in the service of the truth). Doubtless she knows the ugly sides of the two, but perhaps that is just who Yui is - someone who prefers to see and focus on what is best in people. 

The tone between the three seems to be settling into something stable. Hachiman claims to despise Yukino, and his notebook of Who to Kill is dominated by references to her (and they are hilarious: "Ice Queen. Looked at me as if I were a bug. Called me gross 15 times today"), but the two's mutual insults are rapidly becoming more like intense, enjoyable banter. And now that Yui has had her first experience "saying it straight," it is likely she will the them and be an example of effortless giving the other two sorely need.

Oregairu 1.1

I cannot believe anime this good exists. Claymore was good, Bebop and Champloo were better, Eva is about the best, but Oregairu is right up there. It leaves almost all the anime I've seen far behind. I am still in shock and awe. So much so that I'm going to write on every episode. Can this be real? How can anime writing be this good? And so on proceed my thoughts as I'm watching.

Oregairu understands and explores alienation, insecurity, social cruelty, fear, and how these all intertwine in relationships - and it does this better than anything I've seen in a long, long time; it probes the ways we project ourselves and seek to dominate, or self-efface, retreat and hide, raising shields and walls against the hostile other, all with one common denominator: to fly genuine human connection. Oregairu enfleshes what it is to be a lonely, smart, social outcast; and it points the way out. It's never preachy (something I can't abide in art) but it will often say the truth in such simple ways that you're staggered, such as when Hikigaya describes the behavior of a bright, extroverted, very pretty, fun girl - every man's dream - as an armored shell designed to ward people off; or when he describes the ways lonely boys so easily mistake the kind attentions of nice girls for romantic interest. Simple, clear enlightenment.

Again and again the fear of genuine relation appears throughout the series. Eva dwelt on that at length, in excruciating, horrific detail; likewise, Oregairu presents it as a problem in a way that Clannad never did. Notably, there are no role models for flourishing human relationships, which is odd, since those are precisely that which above all make life worth living. Children have no relationships with their parents (or if they do, with one exception, they are awful, destructive relationships), nobody is depicted in love, and those who struggle for friendship have a tendency rip the other apart as often as they show them love - even more so as romance becomes a possibility within a friendship. The potential for relational destruction seems infinite - and it is. Since human relationality is a necessary corollary to the rational nature of man, to avoid it seems to be a rejection of who we are and were meant to be. Such rejections are never made from a place of reasoned detachment, only from past pain. What can equal the pain of being ripped apart by someone you thought a close friend? the rejecting contempt of someone you loved and thought loved you? Those are the sorts of experiences that raise the interior wall of Jericho, and Oregairu explores how one might lower them. 

The pilot opens with an cynical, contemptuous monologue, in which truth and falsehood are (by the writers) ingeniously wound together. The monologue's author, Hachiman Hikigaya, has a penetrating gaze, and sees a lot of the falsity that lies behind a life of celebrating youth; the mindless seeking of varied experiences instead of wisdom (he singles out lies, secrets, sins, and failures), of heedlessly accepting failure ("the hallmark of being young!") while refusing to think through the more sinister implications: "If failure is the hallmark of being young, then someone who has failed to make friends [i.e. Hachiman Hikigaya himself] must be at the peak of his youth." A blithe, saccharine, "I'm-okay-you're-okay, yolo" seems to be something like what he's excoriating. He despises mindlessness, and his school seems to exemplify mindlessness. 

Just because it illuminates a few truths about high school society, however, does not make it a masterpiece. It is a sneering, contemptuous piece of suffered alienation (like Holden's conversations in Catcher in the Rye) and his teacher, not wrongly, shreds it as "worthless drivel." This launches him into his meeting with Yukino Yukinoshita, who seems to be his immediate, albeit complementary rather than mathematical, equal in intellect, wit, and loneliness.

Like him, she has no friends, though being an attractive girl, gets plenty of unwanted male attention. She takes immediate delight in sparring with Hikigaya, and is as ruthless as possible in said matches. She uses words as venomous weapons and enjoys using them to rip people apart, especially since much of what she says is completely true. A perfect example of loveless truth. Both of them have articulate views of the world; according to Yukino, "The human race is weak, ugly, jealous, and hate those with more than them," which she has amply experienced by being pretty, and thus the frequent object of male lust and envy-inspired female hostility. She is clearly intelligent, and argues that "the talented (i.e. herself) "have it rough." She is not content to retreat from all things, but wants to "change the world and everyone in it." What that means exactly I don't know, and I doubt she does either, since she holds the world in just as much contempt as Hikigaya. They see themselves as superior, outside observers with clear sight. 

Her attitude clearly wins (and fast!) Hikigaya's respect: he seems to admire honesty, and judges that she never lies to herself; by extension, she will not lie to him either. She appears intrinsically honest and straightforward, which immediately begins to strip away the elaborate hostile defenses he builds for himself. His refused offer of friendship gets them right back where they were, but it is surprising how quickly they came down when he found another a) like him and b) honest. He is not the hardened cynic, the world-weary champion, that he makes himself out to be. 

Into this duo comes Yui Yuigahama, who is almost everything Hikigaya and Yukino are not - energetic, part of a popular clique, a bit of an airhead, and someone dedicated to social conformity. It would seem that they have nothing in common, especially since Yui seems to be kindhearted and generous, while the other two are more like solitary, angry porcupines. Their articulate, black views of the world are just true enough to give them the pleasure of feeling right, as if they are knowers of the truth, and they are young enough that they do not realize being intelligent is not the same as being wise. For all the grief she gives Hikigaya about unwillingness to change, Yukino sees no reason for herself to change, though she is just as alone as he is, in just as much need of interior transformation.

Both Hikigaya and Yukino fear human connection, and Yui does not; rather, her longing for it is what causes her to do and say whatever necessary to fit in any social circle, including this one; she is unwilling to establish her own identity, seeing it as an obstacle to friendship; she changes everything whereas the other two are unwilling change anything; thus Yui has everybody but little of herself, and Hikigaya/Yukino have nobody but themselves. Paradoxically, because she is so attracted to Yukino's advice of establishing yourself and refusing social conformity (and it does not hurt that this advice is actually true and useful), Yui's tendency to conform will purge itself, and may allow her to develop as a human quicker than the emotional solipsism of Hikigaya and Yukino.

New

I had thought I had exhausted good anime. Nothing, so it seemed, was left except relatively humorous shonen series to serve as distraction. Perusing lists of anime proved a waste of time, since the same awful series predominated said lists, and I didn't have the time to research hundreds of series one by one. I needed an in - someone reasonably intelligent whose judgment I trusted. But where to find such a person on the Internet, of all places? The task seemed hopeless and for awhile I turned aside.

Then I discovered Your Lie in April, which I devoured in one sitting (I love classical music so was immediately hooked, disregarding the more annoying shonen cliches), and the youtube comments directed me to Clannad, which turned into one of the most beautiful series I have seen in a long, long time. So while googling top ten lists, I found my way to a site whose top thirty list put Eva at the top, and which began with Hideaki Anno's pre-Eva work. Upon examination, I realized that for the first time in very long time, I once again have anime on deck! They are:

• Shiki
• Kyousogiga
• Monster
• The Flowers of Evil
• Haibane Renmei
• The Eccentric Family
• Paranoia Agent
• Kino's Journey*
• Gatchaman Crowds
• Mushishi*
• Katanagatari
• Revolutionary Girl Utena
• Baccano
• Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress*
• Psycho Pass*
• Terror in Resonance*
• Kurozuka*
• Occult Academy*
• Requiem from the Darkness*
• Girlish Number*
• Fate/Zero*

Next time I'll write about Clannad and maybe a brief snippet on Your Lie in April.

Foot in the Mouth

I saw a trailer for Skyward Sword a ways back, and as infatuated as I was with the previous incarnation of Legend of Zelda, was not impressed. Twilight Princess was the darkest, most awe-inspiring game in the franchise to date; still under its spell I sneered at the bright watercolors and giant ducks of Skyward Sword, thinking the darkened Hyrule far its superior. Last fortnight or so I reiterated my objections, but thought I ought to substantiate them, so I went and found all the cutscenes online.

I was blown away. Skyward Sword is one of the most beautiful video games I have ever seen; rivaling, if not surpassing, such beauties as Final Fantasy VIII and Chrono Cross. Two examples come to mind: life in Skyloft and Link's relationship with Zelda.

The goddess Hylia, sparing some men the flame of the war which ravages Hyrule, raises earth to the heavens above an impenetrable cloud barrier, where the inhabitants live in peace. Each child is granted a Loftwing, a guardian bird, as a gift from Hylia, and which they meet while still small. To summon it, each child leaps off the edge of Skyloft and calls their guardian Loftwing, who never fails to catch them and fly away. Nintendo pulls off this extraordinarily beautiful concept exquisitely; for who has not wished to soar like a bird? The freedom and trust in another, manifested in unhesitating leaps into the abyss is nothing short of exhilarating.

In all previous Zelda iterations, the titular princess has been the collected, reserved, graceful heiress of Hyrule; especially in Twilight Princess, where her nobility was unmatched. This was quite lovely in itself, but Nintendo changed it in Skyward Sword. Zelda is no princess here, but only longtime childhood friend of the soon-to-be hero. As such, she is cast as a charming, wonderful young woman who loves life; it would not be too much of an exaggeration to describe her as life incarnate. And as we know from my adoration of St. Joan in Mark Twain's Personal Recollections and Anne from Anne of Green Gables, I'm a sucker for women so portrayed.

So from every important aspect the game offered, I reversed my earlier disdain; I thought I knew when I in fact did not. Let this be a lesson for me. In the meantime, I shall quietly acknowledge Skyward Sword as perhaps the best Zelda game yet, possibly surpassing such wonders as Ocarina of Time.

You Can (Not) Advance, You Can (Not) Redo

More than a year since my last update, yes? Sadly, nothing has really progressed. Monster took forever to get moving, so I eventually lost interest. A handful of comedies passed my way without much of note, including Birdy the Mighty. But there is good news on the horizon! Anno has finished Rebuild of Evangelion 3.0 and it shall be released this fall! Since Eva is quite possibly my favorite anime and favorite television series, and since You Can (Not) Advance was one of the best films I had seen in a while, I am terribly excited. The animation quality was astounding, the story compelling and wrenching as always, and the blending of music and animation simply superb. 

The weakest part of most anime and popular media in general these days is the ending (The Book of Eli is a significant exception). Eva draws out perfectly the pain of being, but, since modernity has abandoned the faith, must create something new for salvation; thus the final applause scene of the anime was a bit of a letdown, as it seemed little more than a mediocre understanding of popular psychology. I have only found the Church and the noble paganism of ancient Greece to answer the complete problem of man's being, and though the former is far mightier than the latter, even the latter, with its heroic depiction of man, would do; sadly, we are three millennia past ancient Greece, and the closest shortcut to return, Nietzsche, fills most democrats with horror. Their solution is to strip Christianity of everything sublime, leaving only the 'nice' parts: "treat others as you would be treated", etc. A noble sentiment in its place, to be sure, but if you strip such a moral claim from its context of the saint, the faith, and metaphysics, such an attitude becomes contemptible, as Nietzsche saw.

Perhaps Anno will do something spectacular with the conclusion of the Rebuild tetrology. I hope something noble and sublime is produced. Till then, I shall enjoy the ride, and hope You Can (Not) Redo gets released in American theaters. 

A Flicker

While aimlessly surfing the net instead of preparing homework, I came across news that the light novel The Disappearance of Suzumiya Haruhi had been adapted into a full-length film. Since The Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi is one of my favorite anime series (and definitely my favorite comedy), I eagerly streamed it.

Needless to say, I was not disappointed. The animation was fantastic, even through 480 resolution via YouTube; made expressly for fans of the series. The most surprising aspect was its length; this movie is almost three hours long, enabling it to be an meticulous, exact adaptation of the novel. The actors were either reprising their roles from the anime series or were extremely similar in tone; I could scarcely discern differences between the voices in Disappearance and Melancholy.

There is no need to describe the eventually time-convoluted plot. It suffices to say that it is everything a Haruhi production should be; rather intelligent, cute, and an absolute riot. There is a reason I love that series and Disappearance was exactly what a fan of the anime would hope for. Some complain about the pacing, and indeed it takes Kyon quite a long time to discover what is going on. I, on the other hand, immensely enjoyed it, being used to the elaborate pacing of classic black & white movies. There is little action but wonderful humor. I enjoyed almost every second.

Now maybe I'll watch Monster. Maybe not. It might be time for me to be distanced from anime anyway, but this is a good way to begin my goodbyes.

Torrent Pattern

I have not seen anything since Requiem for a Phantom. I begin to suspect the quality material is running out, in my despair turning briefly to live-action television, watching Terminator, Chuck, and The Unit. These are now almost exhausted but I have no anime to replace them. The top choices I had all failed: Gantz, Fafner, Fantastic Children, and possibly even Full Metal Alchemist and Heroic Age. But even that one seems but an Eva knock-off. If there's mecha anime it'd better be bloody brilliant to assault the Eva Throne.

Perhaps this is for the best and my anime interest will slighten and decline. Or maybe I shall discover more later. Either way, this site shall see some inattention paid awhile till that happens. That said, I want some more good anime! I'll try one more time: Monster: it creeped me half to death and it's geared towards adults, not sex-obsessed adolescents. Perhaps it has some promise.