Scattered Thoughts about No Longer Human (Dazai)

Source: Wikimedia Commons (typical of a student like me). Interestingly, when I Googled "Dazai Osamu" all I got were anime images of the character in Bungou Stray Dogs, while "太宰治" returned the real guy.

"人間、失格"

The English title of  "人間失格" is No Longer Human, which I believe to be a translation that failed to capture the meaning of the title. "失格" literally translates to "loss of privilege", or "loss of qualification". This seems to imply not only a state of change, as intimated by the translation, but also a disqualification, a failure of a certain set of criteria that, somehow, defines what "human" (人間) means. 

What, then would this set of criteria, or "test", be? Is it a "test" to being a decent person to each other? As I have mentioned numerous times before, I am a firm believer of an individualistic purpose in life. To live according to what others have defined is a tragedy. Thus, this idea already sounds wrong, and luckily the book is not about this sort of "test". After all, what is a human? Perhaps, a creature that is slightly more rational and developed than your average mammal, but still prone to innate desires of emotions, vices that harm each other, gratuitous acts of malice out of fear, and all kinds of other imperfections. To aspire to be something like this seems quite unattractive, yet it is quite unimaginable how one would "fail" in this sense. After all, to fail would mean being an alien, effectively, in a human shell. It is a stretch to think someone born biologically a human would be deemed not a human, no matter how undesirable he/she would turn out to be. A strong emphasis should be placed on the fact that the title is not "No Longer a Good Person", but No Longer Human. This is indeed what Dazai alludes to when he judges Oba Yozo, the protagonist of the story.

To use the words 失格 to describe Yozo is also quite weird to me, for several reasons. Like Dazai himself, Yozo actually comes from quite an affluent family, having good connections laid out for an easy life. Why, then, would someone who has such a good start forfeit a comfortable and stable life as a "passable" human, but rather forsake humanity and cast himself as an alien? Also, although Yozo uttered the titular quote towards the end, when he completely broke down and was shut into a mental facility, having wasted away his physical body at the age of 27, there was not one point at which I thought was the point where he lost the "privilege to be human". Yozo is quite a static character, in spite of the dramatic life he had, and though he started to reach more cogent conclusions on humanity towards the end, at no point would I consider him a human at all.

From childhood, Yozo fails to understand everything human. Even something so basic as the feeling of hunger and the satisfaction of having a good meal puzzles him to no end [1]. Perhaps it is the nature of children to be inquisitive, but the kind of mystery here stirred up a feeling that could hardly be described as curiosity from Yozo. He describes himself as an actor, putting up a face of cheerfulness and silliness, solely to entertain others to alleviate their suspicion, to avoid detection of his alien nature. To him, humans are not some saints he wish to aspire to become (evidenced by his comments on hypocrisy towards the end of the first chapter) but are simply creatures that speak a totally different language, another species from him entirely, and from this confusion and lack of familiarity stems fear, that one day he would suffer the wrath of those around him. A vivid analogy comes to mind:

"But from the angry faces of people, I find something even more frightening than lions, crocodiles and dragons. Normally they would hide their wrath, but once the chance emerges, in a fury they will reveal their true nature, just like calm, docile cows on the field, suddenly viciously flicking their tail to kill a fly."

Yozo is so good at pretense, that it carries him through almost every social situation, from pretending to befriend Horiki to get alcohol, to joining the leftist underground societies just out of excitement. It even made him popular among women. Yet, never once has he assimilated with the role he plays in front of people. Never once has he perhaps accepted that "that is who I actually am". This is a book of introspection, an attempt of Yozo to reconcile with the concept of "being human", yet among the pages upon pages he reflected, none comes out to him finally reaching some sort of understanding. Why do men lie to each other? Why is committing crimes so exciting? Why do women keep flocking to him? All these he think over again and again, yet nothing comes out of those ruminations.

I suppose that is not technically true, since he did reach a conclusion towards the end: that humans are always selfish. After his first suicide attempt, a lot of people were summoned to help him, and they did somehow, yet not without ulterior motives, either to suck up to Yozo's father, or to be on the moral high ground. When people say "the world will hate you for this!" they really are saying "I will hate you for this," or "I am obligated to hate you for this." I suppose that is some sort of conclusion, but it is hardly satisfying. In fact, this drives Yozo eventually insane. This begs the question of whether being a human is really worth it after all [2]. Misanthropy pervaded through a large part of my life, due to my tendency to avoid others. However, it is the first time I have been brought to wonder whether misanthropy is a choice or a determined fate, that some are determined to be more inclined towards this than others. Or rather, as in the case of Yozo, alienation causes unfamiliarity, which causes fear and translates to hatred, causing further alienation and so forth.

The entire novel lacks life. Yozo has never actually lived as a human, wasting away his life in prostitution, alcoholism, drug addiction and leeching off others. Even his suicide attempts are brushed off deliberately with few sentences in passing. One description sums up this feeling well:

"Just outside the apartment window was a kite caught in the telegraph wires; blown about and ripped by the dusty spring wind, it nevertheless clung tenaciously to the wires, as if in affirmation of something. Every time I looked at the kite I had to smile with embarrassment and blush. It haunted me even in dreams."

The frequency of situations where I would feel intense hatred and disdain has diminished much since my childhood, yet the times at which I do feel joy and excitement has never increased much, always at a low. Reading Yozo's accounts relieves me somehow, seeing I still have tangible goals I wish to pursue: to learn. My life still has a meaning, no matter how weak and lofty it is. But looking back, there were indeed times when I was dangerously close to wishing to tread the path of self-ruination and just give up, and this gives me serious chills.

As this is not an essay in Japanese literature, I won't go into a more in depth analysis, but just throw out a question: For what purpose did Dazai tell this story? For what purpose did Dazai bring Yozo into existence? Perhaps as a case of intellectual curiosity, Yozo is interesting. What even is Yozo, since he is not a human? A popular view is that Yozo is a reflection of Dazai himself, and by portraying him Dazai achieves catharsis. Yet that did not stop Dazai from committing suicide, a barely cathartic ending. Or rather, I should say that telling the story of Yozo did not solve Dazai's problem with life itself.

Abstracting from the author, why is the story so popular among readers? Perhaps much of it has to do with Dazai's literary prowess, but what does the audience gain from this story? In other words, is there a moral to this story? Did Dazai intend to stop readers from following his example and live a "human" life? Apparently not, since Yozo/Dazai did not develop this character intentionally: they think and exist so because they are created like so (or at least, as Dazai seemed to argue).

Speaking personally, there are plenty of times where I felt barely human. This must be true for lots as well, as we must have a desire to "fit in" while we see the world through a very limited lens. The average person's reaction to Yozo might be what the "me" in the prologue and epilogue described: Detachment, disgust and disdain. However, reading through the pleading of Yozo, occasionally relating to his thoughts, I feel the fortune to be able to avoid (mostly) the torture of existing in the human world as a non-human.

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[1]: Reading this made me shiver, since I was a kid who never really felt hunger and hated eating too.
[2]: https://byronsmuse.wordpress.com/2017/02/02/book-review-no-longer-human-by-osamu-dazai/. Well worth a read.

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ED Discussion 21: Yojouhan Shinwa Taikei [Tatami Galaxy] ED, "Kamisama no Iutoori [As God Dictates]" by Yakushimaru Etsuko. [1]

"I must forgive."

The Tatami Galaxy appears to be complex. It is an eccentric concoction of artistic devices: very fast-paced monologues, unconventional art style, surrealist depictions, overt manifestations of inner thoughts intruding into objective reality... However, upon finishing the final scene, I sighed with satisfaction at how simple the message indeed was. Simple, but very powerful and relatable.

Graduating (hopefully with no accidents) in half a year from now, I can attest to the fact that university is a place of radical change. The amount I learnt in these four years easily doubles what I knew so far, not only about science and engineering but also what it means to exist in a society, how to interact with others and what it means to live, although I do admit I am still a complete novice. As I might have mentioned earlier, I found my life up till senior secondary to be intolerably dull and unfulfilling, and, having a brief glance at true education in my final years in secondary school, I yearned for more. Indeed, I come to university with a greatly optimistic outlook: I will change, and I will make my years worthwhile; I will chase after the rosy college life.

Whether this so-called rosy college life does indeed exist is the central concern of our focus today, The Tatami Galaxy. Looking around me in the first week of my first year, I see plenty of people busy with student union duties, enthusiastically selling their societies and describing how meaningful/fun their society is. Their eyes are filled with the exact thing we call the rosy life. They are the embodiment of this life. Without restraint, I signed up for plenty of clubs and societies, and attempted to get into them. Rather quickly, (apart from the Chinese Orchestra) their calls for activities and socializing turned from warm and welcoming to annoying and irritating, sitting in my inbox as junk mail. I realized that I could never get into these circles, because that's not what I am, and betraying what I am was the last thing I am comfortable doing. True back then, even more true now.

Of course, my life was not so filled to the brim with drama as Watashi, the MC from The Tatami Galaxy, and there were no secret police, elusive gurus, proxy-proxy-(...)-proxy wars that dragged me in. However, glancing at how others have garnered such a wide range of acquaintances, going to so many social events so frequently, while I hid myself in my room reading notes, watching anime and playing games made me wonder, more frequently than I wanted to in my first two years, whether I had made the right choice, whether I had ignored the chances that dangled in front of me, or whether the so-called "chances" were in fact just a flame luring me, the moth, to burn my wings upon.

I concluded two messages from The Tatami Galaxy: The first one I have already alluded to: do not try to be who you are not. Watashi was not a tennis player, neither was he a revolutionary movie artist, an eloquent orator, an enlightened sage, a buff athlete... and every time he chases these goals, he attempts to shake off his true self and assume a persona to fit in the society he wishes to devote himself to, to be someone who he is not to enjoy the rosy coloured campus life. Does he succeed? Apparently not, since every episode ends with him going back on his decision, and try to choose a different route to seek for the optimum again.

Prof. Stephen Boyd, in his convex optimization lectures, alluded to the fact that life itself is an optimization problem. According to him, it is, however, such a trivial tautology that it is not even worth mentioning [2]. Indeed, we constantly question not only why we do things but also whether how we do things is optimal. It is natural to want to backtrace our decisions and improve things, with hindsight. However, in the blind search for the optimal, have we considered enough what really is optimal? Every time Watashi backtracks, he throws away the most obvious opportunity right in front of him, and goes for some imaginary life that he was not even sure existed, or cashing after some other's life and substituting his goals with theirs, in hopes for the revered rosy life.

The second message is about love. In three consecutive episodes, Watashi "chose" between three different love targets: a senior (who happened to not even be attracted to him at all), a "love doll" and a pen pal. Of course, viewing as an outsider, we see the hilarious dramatic irony and wonder why Watashi can be so blind and desperate. Yet, aren't we all the same, inclined to perform stupid and self-harming acts in the name of love? Being incubated for the entirety of one's life as a loner, it is virtually impossible for one to be immune to the poison known as infatuation, and pine for the slightest hint of affection from those we find attractive, even to inanimate, imaginary beings.

What are the solutions to these quandaries? Through a cryptic hint from the fortune teller every episode, the author Yuasa literally dangles the answer right in front of Watashi, and to us. Dangling under the lamp which the moth (symbolizing Watashi) blindly and relentlessly fly towards, was the "Mochiguman" doll Akashi, an underclasswoman of Watashi, lost. All Watashi had to do was to return the doll to her, and a new story would have begun. Much like me trying to find a complex moral message behind the seemingly obfuscating artistry, the answer was always obvious and simple. Yet it took Watashi numerous timelines, breaking apart hundreds of parallel universes to eventually figure out the answer, the key to happiness.

What does this imply for us, the viewers, then? We do not have the fortune to restart our college lives like Watashi did. Likely, we also have no "easy way out", like the Mochiguman dangling under the lamp, or do we? Again, the message of this show is really simple. Perhaps I would even it is overly so. Yet, if we could see the easy way out easily, life would have been solved already, and, most all of us surely know, this is not the case! The magic of this anime comes not only with the message it wishes to convey but also the way it is packaged, an almost metadramatic way of presenting the moral. I suppose the best we could do then is not to cease our search for the optimal, yet not chase someone else's dreams and develop jealousy towards others' lifestyle. Back away from time to time, forgive our own mistakes, and think whether we have missed the obvious.

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[1]: These lyrics would have had a way different effect to me one and a half years ago. Much more curious, to say the least.
[2]: Whether life is convex, though, is a good question, as he claims. 

Talking Evil

"I am now an existence known as 'evil' "

We are all taught to behave in school. The majority of my life (probably for you who are reading this too) has been dedicated to being lectured about what being moral and decent to others involve. It is true that the people we like to interact with we deem to at least be decent in our books: otherwise why would we be willing to interact with them at the first place? Indeed, being "good" involves being considerate and respectful of others. However, what we see daily on the news is not people being decent to others. That is not an interesting piece of news, nor is it important or carry information for our caution. What we learn as we grow up is that the world is full of evil: from the insanity and capriciousness of crimes, violence, to, on the flip side, the prevalence of policing, surveillance, security... all these suggest that humans are full of innately unfettered vices that need to be controlled through threats and force. Sobering as it may be, today I would like to consider what evil really is.

A nebulous concept?

Perhaps by reversing the definition of good, we might get some insight into what evil means. There are a plethora of ethical theories underlying the definition of "good": utilitarianism, intentionalism, consequentialism, or more concrete "guidelines" such as those delineated by religions. The problem with the former few are that they are theories, not absolute truth. We can debate about which of those are more philosophically sound, but at the end of the day a moral decision remains ambiguous. The latter not only suffer from lack of rigor (e.g. there may be some situations where killing/stealing/disobeying your parents is deemed more good than evil) but are also horribly restrictive and sometimes downright archaic.

Are we therefore to accept that evil, much like good, is a nebulous, imprecise and relativistic concept? While good deeds are arguably dispensable (we can and are supposed to live without the gratuitous kindness of others), evil deeds sometimes can and will seriously harm the well-being of the society as a whole. Moreover, some acts, such as genocide, are universally condemned as evil deeds. There seems to be a more immediate need for a definition, and the search of such definition may prove to be more promising to yield something more than depends.

Evil as the enemy of mankind

As alluded to in my previous post, Tanya from Youjo Senki is "evil" because she is inhuman. She lacks the qualities which allow her to empathize with the imperfect, weak side of humans known as "emotions", and thus, in the process of going against this fundamental core of human value, she becomes the enemy of the essence of humanity, thus the enemy of mankind.

This definition makes sense to me. Recent conversations with Christians have revealed to me that God and their religion are the benchmark of good, the absolute arbiter of morality, or is morality in itself. For them, evil is simply what goes against God, and the judgment of such moral issues are absolute and done. For someone like me, though, who choose to view this issue from a standpoint that favours practical treatment of the non-existence of god, this definition seems more suitable. Surely, humans prefer being exposed to more good than evil. Even "evil" people would want others to treat them nicely, and in a sense be easy victims to their machinations. Good is something desirable, and evil the opposite.

This definition is unfortunately ignorant of the complexities of moral issues. It is easy to raise issues where the intentions behind the actions are pure (alluding to intentionalism, which is what a lot of people, especially those who like to stand on the moral high ground, advocate for), but the consequences are dire to humanity. One of the greatest enemies of mankind is mortality and the fragility of life. When one seeks to eliminate this evil, should we deem all killing as evil? That would surely seem absurd to a lot.

Taking the issue a bit deeper, we have Urobuchi's take on "humanity" by portraying Homura is the manifestation of evil in Rebellion. Out of obsession for Madoka, Homura took over the world in a bid to prevent further prying of incubators into the energy source locked up by the Law of Cycles. The consequence is immaterial to the inhabitants of the new world Homura created, and she means no ill will to others, since her only objective is to prevent at all costs Modoka becoming a witch. This alludes to the problem of "humanity" in itself. Surely, with all the imperfections and vices of humans, there are better alternatives to being human. To Homura, the new world is where this "better" order exists, since it entails Madoka living a normal, happy life. Is advocating the advance of humans to some further stage and in the process antagonize the current state of "humanity", or the status quo evil? Morality, being an anthropocentric concept, seems to be ill equipped to answer that question (who, being human, will be the arbiter of such a decision?)

Evil as the enemy of "the vast majority"

Things get even more complex when we consider that humans are innate enemies to others, in some sense. Our existence necessitates consumption, endangering the next generation. Our vices innately makes us undesirable beings at times, even to the point of causing harm to the vast majority.

Here comes a possible saving grace: evil could be defined as something that is detrimental to "the grand scheme", "the vast majority". A terrorist might be convinced by his fundamentalist beliefs that his actions are right, but almost everyone on the planet disagrees with that. Being environmentally friendly is a moral thing to do, since it works better "in the grand scheme." In other words, this definition abstracts from the individual and focuses on the collective, sort of similar to utilitarianism if you will.

I don't like this definition much, because the concept of the "collective" is something that scares me much. I like to think of the collective as something inhuman. As Nietzsche said: "In an individual madness is rare, but in a collective it is the norm." Think of the Sibyl system in Psycho Pass, a collection of the brightest minds uploaded to a "neural network". Would we want something like that to make all moral judgments for us? Once we pool minds, the fundamental core of humanity, emotions, is somehow irrecoverable, and we are reduced to a computational being that could very well be the enemy of what is human after all.

The concept of "vast majority" also irks me. Nisio Isin puts it well in Owarimonogatari: Mathematics is beautiful, but numbers are hideous. Specifically, the law of majority is the most hideous of all mathematical laws. We believe that the vast majority, by statistical arguments, should at least be somewhat sensible. But we cannot rule out the possibility that truth is most obscured when it is ruled by the majority, and in fact Nietzsche claims that this is usually what happens. This is possibly why some say that "democracy is the worst form of a government except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time."

Conclusion

At this point, I am at an impasse. Admittedly, I have not been exposed to enough material in my life as a loner to make any further progression. So, I suppose, despite the unfruitful considerations above, I shall make a concluding remark.

Standing on two extremes, we have the existence of absolute moral standards and total relativism (non-existence of morals whatsoever). There clearly is something known as moral, since we are capable and often make moral decisions and judgments. However, to say that there is a unifying, all-encompassing moral standard is also quite far-fetched. At the very least, I could say that "the vast majority" of the world seem to share similar moral standards, and are not prone to gratuitous violence against others. However, with the rise of extremism and the fact that it is the minority who controls the lives of millions, I cannot say that this is totally a problem of unwarranted worry.

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 OP Discussion 20: White Album 2 OP, "Todokanai Koi [Unreachable Love]" (by various)

"Are you pretending to be lonely? I wonder why I cannot stop being curious."[1]
(Setsuna Ogiso ver.)

It has been a while since I had any thoughts about love. And indeed, what happened in the past has somehow already settled quite well. However, a recent chat with a friend of mine reminded me of this weird little sentiment, and prompted me to start thinking a bit again. 

I suppose even if love in itself is not something that I am currently experiencing, the sentiment itself is an interesting part of the human psyche, and that is all I reflect on in these posts. White Album 2 could then be thought of as an exploration of how love changes people. Revolving around the interactions between the three main characters, we see how love is the harbinger of the end of "friendship", and, as meticulously as the characters try to avoid hurting each other, they cannot but give in to their own desires. It should be read more as an exposition on human nature rather than a romance, but to say that the exemplar few of the latter is not a part of the former would be wrong. [1]

This is a story set in winter. Winter has become my favourite season for quite some time now, which I have touched upon previously, and not only because of the weather itself. Kanon leverages this setting well by symbolizing forgotten memories with the snow, and contrasts the warmth of humanity and love with the freezing winter. Indeed, what makes winter great is not the chill in itself, but rather how it brings out the potency of warmth. White Album 2, with the whiteness signifying the snow, is not such a show.

Examining the characters with the lens of today's main topic, one cannot claim that any of the characters are evil. On the flipside, none are good either. Enamored by Touma, Kitahara nonetheless thinks a relationship would be impossible, and settles with Setsuna who confessed first, only to go back on his choice once he discovered the true feelings of Touma. Setsuna, who knew of Kitahara's feelings, went ahead with the desire of possession, cutting off Touma. Touma, seeing that a couple has already formed, nonetheless was not able to control herself from confessing to Kitahara, the only one who has reached out to her in her life of loneliness. Can one really totally put the blame on any of them?

When I think of snow, I do not think of it being furious as a storm, or drastic as a shower. The snow here is a powdered snow, one that falls surreptitiously, and before one could notice, accumulates on the ground as a tender, pure layer. It is full of beauty, yet still relentlessly chilly. The whole drama of this show happens so subtly, where characters not only hide their intentions among themselves but also to the viewer. The drastic developments are deliberately delayed until the end, where it all rushes out like a broken dam. But until then, everything seems peaceful, yet the sense of foreboding stays strong throughout.

The most winter aspect of the show will have to the ending though:

"So, why did things end up this way?"
"Hey... that's enough. There's nothing here anymore... Leave"

A heartbroken Kitahara watches as Touma's plane leaves the runway, while a heartbroken Setsuna clings onto Kitahara stubbornly, hoping for something to change, and things to revert to the way it used to be, and should be. However, by this point we all know it is too late. The clouds have already gathered so thick that the snow is not going to end any time soon. As the two wonders what has gone wrong in their lives, the scene cross fades into the segment not included in the main chronological progression of the plot: where the trio performs the ED presented above. Apart from the scene in Clannad: After Story, this is the closest a show has rocked me close to crying. No words are needed any further than that.

As with the case of Sengoku Nadeko (at least in my view), there is this sense of inevitability here. Even maintaining a friendship, when they are all close together, is an insurmountable task when the force of love comes into play. Love could bring happiness and satisfaction, but could also be a powerful catalyst of destruction, driving people insane, breaking up friendships, leaving behind a trail of broken relationships, regrets and even hatred. With love so built into humanity as a mechanism, I cannot but wonder if all this is indeed unavoidable. Touma has tried to distance herself by moving to Vienna with her mother, but this ended up causing even more tears shed.Was there anything they could have done to steer away from the maelstrom?

Ah, yes. We are almost reaching the season of White Album...

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[1] The original can be read in two ways: "孤独なふりをしてるの？なぜだろう気になっていた。" Can also be read "Are you pretending to be lonely? Why, I wonder." 
[2]: Being a "music" anime adapted from a VN, this show also has a great wealth of music from the original OST of the VN, sung by various artists, that I religiously enjoy. To name a few apart from Todokanai Koi, we have Sayonara no Koto, Twinkle Snow, Powder Snow, After All ~Tsuzuru Omoi~, and, most importantly, the titular White Album. 

Battle against Irrationality

Tanya, the "Evil"

Recent events around the world has honestly taken a toll on me emotionally. Witnessing the destruction of peace by extremism, the ceaseless quarrel over obstinate, irrational chauvinists and ideologues, the media stirring up hatred and anger through white lies, more and more proof that military power means everything, all the while seeing world leaders pushing the world to the brink of a total war again, the third time in the last hundred years... All these have led me to wonder whether the values we have developed and deemed to be valuable over the reflections of the tragedies in the last century will still hold up for another, whether the pillars holding up the modern society is gradually giving way. Is it the destiny of humanity to be destroyed by our own hands, through the vices of humans that cannot be banished? 

I have been led to reflect on a recent anime I have watched, Youjo Senki. It is set in an alternate universe, where the "Empire" (not-Germany) is in a state of war with the surrounding countries in Europe (not-France, not-Scandinavia etc.) We see the story through the protagonist, Tanya Degurechaff, a military prodigy, who was granted special "magical" powers and played the role of a front-line soldier against numerous operations. What is special about Tanya is her original identity: A salaryman in modern Japan who operates on strict adherence to rationality. Once an employee has failed to prove his worth, he does not hesitate to fire and replace him. One victim of his firing, disgruntled, pushed him into a train at the station. At the very moment before his death, "god" appeared in front of him, questioning why he has no room for faith. His answer is simple: In the modern age, where people live in peace and enjoy much freedom thanks to the advancements in science, there is no room for god. As a response, "god" then puts him in the "dire straits" where none of these things are present, which is the setting mentioned above, by reincarnating him as Tanya. What ensues is essentially a psychological battle between Tanya and "god", so-called "being X" by Tanya, for her to prove that faith is irrelevant and she will never need it: A battle between rationality and irrationality.

Belief and Faith

Let's take a detour and analyze one of the central themes of Youjo Senki first. I will return to the topic in the introduction in due time.

"Faith: Complete trust or confidence in someone or something; Strong belief in the doctrines of a religion, based on spiritual conviction rather than proof." - Oxford Dictionaries.

I don't want to believe

"Being X" goes a long way to coerce Tanya into belief: By constantly putting her life on the brink by "persuading" her superiors to send Tanya to the front lines, and even making the "computation crystal", the device that allows her use of magical powers including flight and superior ammunition, to fail at critical moments unless she utters a prayer to "god". Even so, Tanya refuses to have faith. Sure, this shows that she is staunch and unwavering to her principles, but when "god" actually manifests himself, with miraculous powers and ability to reincarnate and such, is it still a philosophically sound option to "not believe"? After all, in my view, there is no option to "believe" in science, since it is objectively true: the laws of physics will not become untrue and its experimental evidence will not be invalidated based on anyone's belief in it. This is why I devote myself to science. "God" is an unfalsifiable and unjustifiable hypothesis: There is, hitherto, no way to prove his existence apart from anecdotal accounts (which is not evidence), nor is there anyway to prove his nonexistence. I have always said that on the seven-point scale coined by Richard Dawkins, I consider myself as a 6:

6: De facto atheist. [The existence of God has a v]ery low probability, but short of zero. "I don't know for certain but I think God is very improbable, and I live my life on the assumption that he is not there." -Wikipedia

In the context of the present story, "god" becomes "real", in a sense that he is actually physically present and can influence, objectively and in a verifiable fashion, the physical world. Is Tanya being the irrational one here, then, to hold on to disbelief? 

At this point, I realized the "punchline" of the message here: That "belief/faith" and "acknowledgement of existence" is distinct. This is what Tanya holds on to as an axiom to her stance. "God" may be present. He could be a being like "being X", who is able to appear in front of others and alter the fate of the world. However, it is still possible to reject the notion of faith. Here, "faith" transcends mere "acknowledgement of existence". It is much stronger than the answer to a yes/no question. It is the acceptance of the notion of an omnipotent being and his rule over the world. 

In Tanya's world, people are free to act as they will. They are only subject to a Darwinist selection process, where people who fail to improve themselves and prove their worth in the world will be removed from the society. A very practical and rational mindset, treating the society as a machine where parts that are broken are replaced without second thought in order to maximize efficiency. The concept of "god" is hence strongly incompatible. "God" operates on doctrines. People must submit to such doctrines unconditionally and without question. Otherwise, they are deemed unfaithful and will be rejected. It is inherently authoritarian, even when it is benevolent. Thus, what Tanya is fighting against is not the claim of existence of a deity, but rather the fact that she has to submit to a higher power against reason. It may be against reason to struggle against an omnipotent being, but to give in to this premise would invalidate her basic axioms, and thus her entire line of thought.

Personally, I stand pretty close to Tanya's thoughts. "God" may very well exist. He might have performed all the miracles and manifestations documented in the Bible, or any other religious text. However, this is not why I am a de-facto atheist. I am one based on two premises:

1. The phenomena revolving around "god" have never been replicated in the age where documentation of such phenomena is well-developed (video, photos etc.) The very evils of this world where "god" has tried to  eliminate from this world are still prevalent. I am therefore very unconvinced that the possibility of "god"'s existence is plausible.

2. I am fundamentally against authoritarianism. I do not like arbitrary rules set on how people must behave. 

I do not refute the claim that "god" has done a lot of people good by reforming them to be law-abiding citizens and stop causing trouble, but it has also spawned irrational fundamentalism that is the largest threat to peace in the first world nowadays. Regardless, I am against the notion of "god" and believe that society would be better off without the worshiping of a deity, but I do see how "god" can evolve naturally from the development of humans as something to cling onto in times of crisis and darkness. 

War and the Limit of Rationality

An unpleasant surprise [1]

That said, atheism is not the sole central concern of the show. Neither is war and violence, which is prevalent throughout but nonetheless serve as a motif, a device for the main theme: Rationality and the lack of.

Tanya is a hardline follower of rationality, as mentioned above. This has led to her incompatibility with the demands of being X, fueling the major backstory. Yet, rarely does being X actually interfere with the physical world per se (apart from the computational crystal and few exceptions). What being X interfered with was the minds of people surrounding Tanya. All it takes is one small seed of emotional outburst, be it blind hope for the scientist's case to push him to force lethal tests on Tanya, or a fervent mist obscuring the judgment of Tanya's superiors to push her to deadly, reckless battles. Indeed, he merely has to start the reaction, and the dominoes will fall on its own, leading to inexplicably emotional actions even from the "epitome of rationality", the brass. In the end, it is emphasized that the war is not between the actual warring nations. It is between reason and impulse (humanity), a battle between Tanya and the world, which may even include herself.

One must wonder whether war is a result of reason. Surely the process of planning out operations, performing battles require the power of rational thinking, much like a game of chess, in order to anticipate the moves of the opponent and optimize a set of motion. However, for what reason are we fighting? To fight for some arbitrary border issues? To obtain control over some resources? At the end, it all returns to motives that are hardly rational at all: Hatred, greed, intolerance... Perhaps more reductively, it is impossible to "reason" with the absurdity known as life, so all we do must reduce to irrationality. It is something that is fundamentally built into all we do. Some of this irrationality leads to "good" outcomes such as compassion and "moral" behaviour, but more often than not it leads to seemingly mindless self-destruction as a species.

Reason is a means of thought that develops conclusions and decisions based on observations, or axioms [2]. Given a goal of optimization, one sets to find the best combination of actions that would result in achievement of such goals. Yet, if we examine the rationality of the axioms themselves, we may find ourselves at an impasse, for axioms are the foundations to threads of reason. It is the base where reason would serve as the reinforcement. It thus transcends reason, and thus the above question makes no sense. What determines whether a set of axioms are good is necessarily within the purview of an alternative form of judgment. Could we then say that all reason must be based on something irrational? On a more anthropocentric level, we as humans seem to default back to irrationality when reason falls apart, whether under extreme emotions such as stress, anger or whatever, or when we are faced with questions that challenge purpose. We are more fundamentally built on irrationality. It is our fail-safe mode of thinking, the most intimate sort of thought.

The English (sub)title of the series reads: The Saga of Tanya the Evil. Tracing Tanya's thoughts throughout the series, I wonder what is so evil about Tanya, and why von Rerugen in the picture above would call Tanya a "monster". It turns out that Tanya lacks (or has very little of) this irrational basis. The events throughout the show emphasizes this: She would not hesitate to sacrifice useless subordinates, subject her troops to inhumane training, cleverly circumvent international treaties on humanity to fire at civilians that refuses to get out of the way. It is fundamentally not because of the fact that she has killed numerous in cold blood that makes her evil, it is the lack of an emotional core, what some people may call moral, or conscience. She knows that hatred will cause incessant revenge against all measures of reason, and concludes that all flames of hatred must be extinguished. Yet, I am sure that we all know that once a person is killed, and his flame of hatred extinguished, ten more springs up into action. Tanya is not merely the enemy of people who stand in her way, nor the soldiers on the opposite side. She is the enemy of humanity itself. Dare I say that this is what evil, by definition, is?

Conclusion: Where ignorant armies clash by night

Youjo Senki shows us what a "person" who operates solely on reason is like. As I have remarked numerously in previous posts, emotions are fundamental to humanity and forms our subconsciousness. We often see politicians leveraging emotions as a strategic step in their rational plans, yet at the end of the day it is greed for power and urge for control, all irrational sentiments, that drive such persons to do what they do. Unfortunate to say, as long as humanity is here to stay, we are necessarily enslaved by our own emotions, leading to unpredictable phenomena. Can we turn the tides of hatred and resolve into peace instead? Recent events have made me quite pessimistic. It is a problem too large and fundamental of a scale and nature for me to tackle alone, or, heck, for the entire human race to do so. Yet, I still hold a bit of blind hope that somehow, things will turn out all right. This is the most anti-rational thing that I could possibly think of, but I guess it is better than the alternative of sulking and spreading the hatred.

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[1]: Examine the allegory drawn by the picture in the background.
[2]: Reason here could be a combination of inductive and deductive reason, but let's assume that inductive reasoning is part of the "deduction" process for now, where conclusive evidence is used as a means for arriving at conclusions, much like a step in a deductive process. In any case, it refers to the antithesis of irrational, or emotional processes.

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OST Discussion 19: Kono Sekai no Katasumi ni (In this Corner of the World) Insert Song, Kanashikute Yarikirenai (Too Sad to Go on)

"It's so sad, so sad that I can't bear it.
Should I go tell someone about it?"

I know I have been completely ignoring the song I claim I am going to talk about in this section, and go straight for a passage about the anime itself this part of recent posts. This time, however, I really have something (whether it is substantial or not would be up to your judgment) to say about the song itself. (I will go back to the movie itself though)

The nature of "sadness" or "melancholy" is something I have touched upon in previous posts, such as the one about hikikomoris. I have explained that sadness is not something like anger, where a sudden event would trigger an intense bout. It is something that creeps upon people, accumulating bit by bit through events that would seem too small to deem worthy of attention: Perhaps from a piece of news about a tragedy, perhaps from the transition from one stage of one's life to another, perhaps from a minor disagreement with how someone acts... As such, we would not notice such build up of negativity within us until something hit us. Something objective, or something subjective, such as a moment of introspection. Yes, indeed, a mere moment of introspection is what some need to open the floodgate of welled-up sadness. A quote from 5cm/s comes to mind:

"Through the act of living itself, sadness piles up here and there. Whether in the sheets hung up to dry in the sun, the single toothbrush in the bathroom, or the history logs of the cell phone"

It is at that moment of realization that we ask: where did all this sadness come from? I am so sad, I cannot carry on, yet I fail to even locate the source of the problem to begin solving it. 

The song in question today has sadness plastered all over it. From the title to the lyrics, the tempo, the tone of the singer, instrument choice, all immediately tell you, blatantly, about sadness. Is there more to it though? Apart from sadness, I can hear the sense of frustration, precisely stemming from the inability to comprehend the source of such sadness, as I mentioned above. 

Frustration is also key to the theme of the movie, where the MC Suzu, dragged along in the tides of the brutal history of WWII, has little control of the fate of herself and people around her. Throughout her life she is simply dragged on by forces she cannot control: Blindly marrying to Kure, having her husband and father-in-law drafted into the military, losing her sister-in-law's daughter to an unexploded bomb in a fraction of a second... Even at the end of the movie, her tragedies do not end, with her sister receiving radiation poisoning from the Hiroshima bombing. It is natural to be frustrated about fate in her shoes. 

Beyond this layer of frustration though, is there more to the song? Perhaps we are (I am) ignoring the obvious here: The dreariness of the tone. the song carries no deliberation. Rather, it is something akin to a song hummed by a farmer, or some distant tone heard from the beach on an island for vacation. Indeed, take Suzu out of the entire context, and we would find that the first thing that can describe her is absent-minded, dreamy, imaginative yet not very bright. She is depicted as a natural artist, always carrying around her sketchbook in her free time, sitting on a slope to draw the scenery. A scene that is remarkable, in my opinion, is the depiction of the air strike on Kure port. Instead of being a frightening mass of bullets and bombs, we see a wealth of colours, a wealth of warm colours: pink, light yellow, light blue, almost like a bouquet of flowers. Here we see the strike in the point of view of Suzu. Is she completely ignorant of the cruel nature of what is happening above her head? Probably not, but we cannot say for certain whether she is aware but optimistic, or simply not conscious enough to recognize what a war is. What we can say for sure is that she manages to maintain a child-like attitude, despite all that is going on around and with her.

This film is clearly about the Second World War, but it is told from the perspective of ordinary folks rather than military masterminds. Suzu cannot be more ordinary of a person. In her life, she has not achieved much, simply maintaining the status quo as much as possible. Thus, some call this film a slice-of-life (SoL). The anime genre is used to SoL comedies, but here we see a starkly different take on SoL with such a character as Suzu. Such a take is possibly more familiar in literature, as it reminds me of the concept of "average-Joe" (小人物). By minimizing the character, we see much more about the milieu, the atmosphere and the setting in general. It is like a test point placed in the field that is to be explored, where the point has minimal influence on the field itself.

However, I find myself wondering whether this has the opposite effect of magnifying the character type exemplified by Suzu herself. In a setting so chaotic, so brutal, so out of the ordinary as Second World War, the largest tragedy in modern human history, CAN such an ordinary person exist? CAN one depict a person with a character so firmly unaffected by the war?

This brings us to the punchline of my discussion: Life goes on. There is no incompatibility between the milieu and the character, because there should be no relation to begin with. There are malicious people in peaceful times, and there similarly are plenty of sensible people in such incomprehensible times. When the film shows the emperor's famous jewel voice broadcast on the radio, the initial reaction of Suzu's family would be anger at the outcome. Yet this lasts for mere minutes, before it is replaced with a flood of relief, signatured by the removal of the lampshade to cover from enemy bombers. Warmongering politicians and ideologues are quick to label enemies of the state, people whom you should feel anger towards, people whom you should donate your full attention towards. Yet, have we forgotten that behind the enemy frontlines are people who hate war just as any of us do, the same people we love and care about?

With this I return to the very first thought of this post. These are the times of picking sides and labelling, whether in America, in the UK, or in HK. Whoever is related to our enemies must be our enemy, and their death must be something we should celebrate. Whatever the enemy says we must find to the end of the world evidence to revoke. Just pick a side and declare war. Call me apathetic, but I am sick of debating, and I am sick of sarcasm. If we can see the person behind whom we rashly label as enemies, perhaps hiding in that inconspicuous corner of the world, perhaps the world may be a bit of a better place to live in.

With these thoughts in mind, this song expresses the nuances of the multitude of emotions that it is almost therapeutic. The world is indeed a sad place, but if it is the last thing I believe in, I believe that there are true humans behind this fury of madness, chauvinism and pure anger. The fact that Suzu can live on despite all of her surroundings makes me believe so.

Meditation on Victimhood

"Victims and culprits can easily swap places. It all depends on viewpoints and circumstances."

It really is a pity how Koe no Katachi (A Silent Voice, or lit. Shape of the Voice) was sidelined by the more successful film of 2017, Kimi no Na Wa. Note that the latter is a great film that does very much deserve its popularity, but personally I find the themes brought up by KnK to be more powerful, relevant and relatable, reminding me of my own past. The story starts with Ishida Shouya in elementary school, who as a child acted as a bully to the deaf female lead, Nishimiya Shouko, until his antics backfired on him, causing his accomplices whom he thought were his friends to instantly distance themselves from him, leaving him ironically as the bullied. As a teenager, Ishida realizes his wrongdoings and attempts to atone for his past, in the process finding out the meaning of forgiveness and companionship.

Throughout the movie, it can be objectively said that Nishimiya always got the receiving end of the hostilities of everyone surrounding her. From the direct confrontations and harassment by Ishida, to the hypocritical face of Kawai, to the cold apathy of Ueno, she was basically on her own throughout her childhood just because of her disability. As a person of disability who could not express herself easily, she was an easy target for bullies, and, being in the animalistic society that is the world of elementary school, her inability to fight back means she indeed suffered. 

However, as the film progressed, with Ishida approaching Nishimiya to apologize for his crimes as a child and getting to know her better, she is cast a surprisingly grey light in terms of moral. The film does not continuously condemn the perpetrator Ishida throughout its duration, though his head was effectively hung low throughout the film as a teenager. At the climax, as Nishimiya reached the limit of her tolerance on her self-blaming, she attempted suicide, and at the last second saved by Ishida, taking the damage instead. [1] The fact that this event is portrayed as such clearly delivers the message that Ishida has, unwittingly, become the true victim. Even for Ueno, who as a teenager still held her animosity against Nishimiya just because her presence brought trouble to the class, who never really resolved her relationship with Nishimiya, and even pressured her to depression, was not "brought to justice" by the hands of the director. This initially left me quite baffled: Surely, the right and the wrong are quite clear here. Why has Yamada Naoko (director) decided to pass such weird judgment to these characters? In other words, are the roles of "victim" and "culprit" so clean cut?

The thought of victimhood led me back to consideration of my favourite arc out of the Monogatari series: Otorimonogatari (which I had discussed at length here). We see Sengoku Nadeko, largely the victim of Kaiki the conman's antics, also as the victim of fate, where she would always be considered as a child in the eyes of Koyomi, her crush, and nothing more. Yet, it is almost unanimously agreed upon that her reinstating the snake god to exact her rage on those whom have treated her like a fool for the whole time is unjustified. 

No one wants to be the victim, and I believe that no one actively wants to create victimhood either, unless driven by other motivations. It is exactly such motivations that stem from the imperfections of humans that creates the toxic structure of oppression: Greed, jealousy, possessiveness, mistrust, or even just different views on how the world should be, what the meaning of existence should be. Simple differences in moral values and xenophobia have created countless conflicts in mankind's history, even pulling in innocent bystanders to die for nothing but a set of dubiously justified egocentric values. As a result, we are entangled inadvertently in a tangled web of oppression and victimhood that no one can resolve, not even after their death. 

There is a strong stigma, especially in the West or countries influenced by the West (which spans most of the First World), against "blaming the victim". This has been a good incentive for a few decades, since the alternative is to judge based on other, less fair (in a sense that is abstracted away from the nature of the deed itself or that which cannot be controlled) criteria, such as social status, race, religion (not that these judgments do not exist nowadays, but it is definitely more suppressed and, if done, more in a subtle manner, at least in most parts of the developed world). However, sometimes I feel that it has evolved to the point that the victim get the entire upper hand in the whole discussion, and thus no grounds are left for the "oppressor" to defend his/her case. Whatever the "oppressor" says is always so skewed away from his/her favour, or rather drowned in insults against him/her that barely constitute as arguments that rational discourse is abandoned over emotional judgment that has already been set in stone by the roles each person plays in this case. The advent of social media has exacerbated this by providing partial or even false information that defames one who is considered an oppressor, stirring up the emotion of unjust in the viewer and using their voice to silence any rational judgment.

Of course, I could be exaggerating, and my view could be severely limited by experiences. But, returning to the works I have been discussing previously, I found that these directors/authors took a different approach to the situation, rather different from what we see the "paradigm" is currently. The portrayal of characters from Nadeko and Ueno, the supposed "bad guys", to Koyomi and Nishimiya and Ishida, the supposed "good guys" are, as mentioned, grey and deliberately ambiguous and multi-faceted. Instead of fueling the emotions set out by the setting and plot, towards the end the directors try to pull the audience away from the emotional trap they have set themselves in already, and remind the audience that humans are multi-dimensional beings. Rather than indulging in an endless cycle of hatred and vindication, why not unplug your ears and look, properly, in front of you, and appreciate that victimhood and oppression exists precisely because of misinformation, ignorance and irrationality. It is time to put the grudges of the past down, because we are multi-dimensional and ever changing. We are only victims if we insist to be one, and if we do insist to be one, we will always be the miserable and vindictive victim that serves no purpose in this world. [2]

[1]: From the beginning, the film took quite a dark path despite its appearance in promotional materials and treated the topics it wishes to discuss seriously as well, something I very much appreciate.
[2]: This is what I surmise (one of) the authors' intents are. I personally do not claim to have embodied this wisdom well. As always, I write about something that I cannot personally achieve, but hopefully through talking about it I can get a bit closer to such achievement.

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OP Discussion 18: Hibike! Euphonium 2 OP, Soundscape by TRUE

"I want to send the message
that I want to improve
that I want to be special!"

Admittedly, from the appearance this show is the archetypal "sports" genre anime, where the character, as a group in the "underdogs", wins the competitions against more established and privileged groups because of the power of friendship etc. We have all heard of this kind of show before, and it is almost bordering on "shounen" shows that I take almost no interest in. However, the setting of this show revolving around the orchestra/band hits close to home for me, and I believe (not entirely sure because of lack of data for comparison) that this show handles the drama and brings out their characters more elaborately and thus carves the themes they wish to bring out more clearly that it warrants "discussion".

The first season of the show, which I have already referenced previously, deals with the revival of the band and goes at length to describe the struggles that the band and its individual members go through to get better, to achieve their dreams to perform in the national band competition (zenkoku, or nationals). It is very well crafted and brings out the interpersonal conflicts, character development and in general tension where they are needed, even going beyond my expectation of the quality of a Kyoani show (me being a huge fan of this studio). However, the second season, in my opinion, gives even more depth and backstory to the characters which explain why the band is how it is presently, focusing even more on the characters and their psyche that it does not disappoint at all as the successor.

To compete or not to compete? 

To what purpose does an entity exist is a question one must ask sooner or later. Existence necessitates certain duties to be fulfilled and tasks to be completed that one must regularly ask if such existence is worth it or not. To this end, the first arc, concerning Mizore the second-year oboe player, attempts partially to give an answer. While the whole band is fired up for preparation for the regional competitions, Mizore finds herself the odd one out, unable to put her full passion in, resulting in mechanical and "lifeless" playing that is criticized by the teachers.

"Hey, do you like competitions? I hate them."

This is quite a weird thing to ask at this context. At the beginning of the year, the band voted to play competitively, and by the end of season 1 they were able to clear the first stage of the competitions. They have chosen to exist as an entity to compete, so to speak, and their victory in the first stage reinforces this idea. Come to think of it, there really is only a reason to dislike competitions when you lose in it. Competitions necessitate the creation of winners and losers. The joy of victory must always come at the expense of the disappointment and anger of losers. One could even say that the exchange is less than equivalent. After all, is joy built on others' suffering truly enjoyable?

Yet without competitions, are there sufficient reasons for one to improve? The conflict that second-years had in the previous years exemplifies this: When some decide that they are not good enough for competitions anyway, there really was no reason for them to practice so hard. This was true at least for high school bands. Is this a bad thing? It does depend on the exact nature of the band/orchestra's existence, but I do not deny the possibility of bringing motivation for improvements with competitions.

At the end of the day, it could boil down to a Camus-like contemplation, but, more concretely, it could be seen as a gamble. Do we prefer to put emotional well-being at risk to attain higher skill levels, or take the safe route and call it a day? With emotional decisions always come irrationality, subjectivity and disagreement, and personally I have become so disillusioned with competitions I am willing to avoid most conflicts to go peacefully and preserve my character, as far as music goes.

This was what Mizore's character resonated with me at the beginning: Faced with hot-blooded, passionate people such as Nozomi, who vow to return victorious after a defeat, there seemed to be no choice but to follow suit. No (wo)man is an island, and to leave at this very second, especially in Mizore's case where Nozomi was one of her only friends, who introduced her to the band itself, would leave her all alone. Yet, is it all worth it to stick to something unwillingly, which could very well turn into another tragedy, just to cling onto someone else's ideals?

This is why when Nozomi decided to quit the band, she was devastated. Her existence in the concert band ceases to be meaningful, and this is reflected in her music, a medium that is all about sending meaning that cannot be well put in words. At this scenario, how could competitions mean anything more than a worthless gamble?

In the anime, of course the misunderstanding clears, and Mizore realizes that Nozomi treasures their friendship much more than some silly ideals to win a competition. But is the real world so ideal? As a regular "deserter" from competitions, I always wonder if the world would have been different if I had committed more. Not necessarily with regret, simply with objective contemplation.

This arc did not conclude as satisfactorily as it could have, considering that the conflict was solved a bit too quickly to seem significant at all. I hope that the upcoming movies will bring more character to this pair.

Why Kumiko is best girl

There is a strong focus of the anime on "improving": As a music player, as a member of the band, and as a person in general. Throughout the two seasons, we see the drama that involves the band as a whole, witnessing the action of love, jealousy, miscommunications and so on. Though the story is told in third person (as almost show does), we are usually focused on the perspective of the MC. Weaker anime will see this as a limitation, while stronger ones will leverage this to bring out the personality of the MC through the surroundings. I am sure we can tell easily where Hibike lies.

Kumiko on herself is almost the antithesis of an interesting character (apart from the fact that she is a girl, distinct from some generic series... and the norm of a Kyoani show). She started off actively wanting to avoid the band because she did not find the concept of competitions that interesting to begin with. She even told Reina frankly that she did not care what the band got at the very beginning, something she did regret but not on grounds of it being a lie. Among the four first-years, she tends to be the most aloft one, preferring to take a bystander's view than to show overt activeness and enthusiasm like Midori and Hazuki. But can she stay as a bystander forever?

As she gets dragged into the various episodes of drama that revolves around different characters: the aspiring Reina, the fiercely protective Yuko, the warm Natsuki, eventually to Asuka who seems mysterious throughout the series, we wonder whether Kumiko is really simply an observer. The way each arc progresses is always through Kumiko herself: Without her constantly pushing through to know more and attempt to solve the problem, without her being just too nosy, we would never see these issues resolved. Despite knowing nothing, Kumiko willingly throws herself into others by conversations. And indeed, the power of words is demonstrated, as the problem, when put into words, becomes much more direct. Words force confrontation, to end the stagnating that would have never resolved themselves. From an aloft observer to, so smoothly that we barely notice, the person who pulled the band together to compete in the nationals, Kumiko actually undergoes a massive change in character, all the while having the aspirations and dreams of others rub off on her. Perhaps this is what Kyoani means by "adolescence": a period of change, of being influenced and influencing others (and not a codeword for yuri undertones *cough*).

Kumiko is not only a good character, but is someone, in my opinion, we all can learn something from. (and this comes from a person who mainly likes messed up characters)

Other comments on the show itself

The anime itself is also exceptional in another aspect: the presentation of music. The problem I have with most music shows is their inability (or limited ability) to leverage music in itself as a storytelling apparatus. Whenever music is played, it must be accompanied by commentary in the form of internal monologues or whatever, as if to explain to the viewer what we are supposed to be feeling towards this. This is bad storytelling and distracts us from the actual music itself (Shigatsu wa Kimi no Uso is a huge offender of this apart from the concluding piece). Hibike on the other hand, in pivotal moments, lets the music play on itself uninterrupted, and through visual portrayal that does not clash with the music but harmoniously works together with the music to bring out the emotions in a way that percolates through the fine details, expressions and body language of the musicians:

The power of non-verbal communication. Note that this is unedited (i.e. not an AMV). The whole piece is specifically composed for this anime, and it delivers so well that it is almost integral to the show itself.

In other words, the anime shows, rather than tells, precisely aligning with the whole purpose of music itself as a non-verbal language.

I guess the message here is for you to go watch this anime now if you have not.

Noise

Noise is an unwanted part of a signal. Usually, we wish to eliminate it. However, in some circumstances, noise is the driving force behind change, and the reason why this world is beautiful and complex as it is.

There is a variety of reasons why I dislike exams, but the main one must be how it locks my mind in a permanent state of anxiety, forbidding me from having any inspirations and stray thoughts that would eventually materialize into words, or something tractable. In any case, I have taken this into account this time around, and told myself to hold such seeds in incubation (i.e. jot them down here in one or two phrases) and wait till the trials of the tripos to be over before I would expand on them. Such is what I will be presenting to you, dear reader, presently:

A Brief Thought on Vulgarities and "hate speech":

Free speech (or, by extension, expression) is important. After the freedom of thought, it is the most important freedom in my opinion, more so than, say, freedom of movement. And the moment someone starts banning or putting unwarranted stigma on certain words or phrases or, god forbid, ideas and thoughts, expect to see me vehemently opposing such motion.

It is entirely one's freedom to choose what they consider offensive or pleasant. One may find certain words very disturbing, and they may choose to request them to not be spoken. Out of respect (or circumstance), the speaker may refrain from usage of such words, or they may not. Yet, it is not up to the listener to try to condemn the speaker just because of words taken out of context, not to mention ban certain words universally.

To ban a word from being used is equivalent to killing an idea. Killing a person is a crime, but killing an idea is a sin.

A Brief Thought on Banana Peels:

I came across a banana peel when I was walking today, just in the middle of the pavement.

As much as the "banana peel" is universally recognized as the symbol of a prank, and someone is bound to slip on it and it is going to be funny, I have never seen such thing happen before. I suppose with the emphasis on hygiene nowadays, litter like that would be cleaned up daily. The distinct yellow skin also stands out among the dull grey pavement tiles, so I doubt anyone would be susceptible to the trick, if there was one to begin with. I wonder how banana peels come to represent pranks and practical jokes, if they are actually such ineffective devices. Maybe someone slipping and making an elaborate gesture out of it is cartoonish and comedic, but the same could be said of a lot of other pranks.

I guess the lesson here is that universally recognized symbols sometimes do not make any sense at all.

A Brief Thought on this Blog:

I like to think about writing this blog sometimes as talking to a wall. The amount of people who will click through a text link just because I shared it is very small, and the proportion of people amongst them who actually want to read through my ramblings is even smaller.

To say that I completely do not care about whether someone would read the posts is a lie, but at the same time, I enjoy talking to a wall, as much as I like talking to myself. Confucius reflects upon his actions thrice every day. I can only hope that some of the echoes from this wall will reach back to me, maybe once every few months.

A Brief Thought on Childishness:

As of writing this sentence I am 21 years old.

Some say that time passes by quicker as you are older. I suppose that is not far from the truth.

Some Brief Thoughts on my rewatch of the best film ever

I have taken to the habit to re-watch 5 centimetres per second every time I feel that the spectre of loneliness is about to drown me out of my senses.

Despite having watched it, partially and totally, countless of times, I still discover new messages, details and symbolism that I have never noticed before. Again, my focus was drawn to the second part of the tri-episodic film, Cosmonaut:

• I have been well aware of the rocket launch being a symbolism of Tohno, resembling the uncertainties that lie ahead of him. More importantly, the loneliness that surrounds such an exploration into deep space is described with unparalleled artistic sense: To just press forward in true pitch darkness, barely encountering even a single hydrogen atom, wholeheartedly believing you'll come closer to discovering the secrets of the universe within the unfathomable abyss of space... I wonder how far we should go, how far we CAN go? In this rewatch, this segment struck me the deepest.
• Notice how Tohno is always portrayed with a gaze downwards. Not only does this bring out a level of maturity beyond Sumida's figure, but also a sense of longing that is exhausting, and even sickly and overwhelming, thorough exhaustion.
• The music, description and brilliant animation signaling the coming of autumn, together with how this energizes Sumida never fails to bring me chills. I severely miss the early autumn weather back home, with the sickening summer heat fading away, and the first signs of chill breeze bringing the crispiness of the season to my breath. (nowadays, this would occur in November or even December, but back in my childhood, it is more around the time this section is set in, i.e. October)
• I was struck by this frame near the end of Cosmonaut:
  

The moon is a rather paradoxical symbol in Chinese literature. It traditionally symbolizes family and company, a sense of togetherness. Yet, in Su Shi's "水調歌頭。明月幾時有", the moon reminds the poet of his brother far away, and even complains about how mocking it is to see a full moon when he is troubled by loneliness. Same goes with Li Bai's "月下獨酌": How sad must one be to drink with the reflection of the moon on the pond, to have the only thing that understand him be a glowing rock thousands of kilometres away from him?

We see in this shot that the moon is full, on a clear, unobstructed night sky, yet is cut in half by the cable in the way. The scenery is almost perfect, but not quite. Like the audience at this point of the episode, Sumida is desperate to confess, to seek the happy ending of unity we all are wishing for. However she also knows this is impossible, for Tohno is looking for something much further, much more than she could offer. She knows that no matter what she does, her parting ways with Tohno is inevitable, that the moon will never be full for her. Pardon my cliche, but the silence in this scene is deafening. The scene is deliberately dark and quite monotonic: as the day falls into dusk, everything suddenly clears up, and reality of Sumida's fate is clear as the conspicuous moon shining right above.

---

ED Discussion 17: Flip Flappers ED, Flip Flap Flip Flap by TO-MAS ft. Chima

"Let's go! To the world the twinkling stars are guiding us.
You and I, FLIP FLAP!"

I came to this show for the mysterious ED, and stayed for the unparalleled rich allegory and wonderful symbolisms.

At the heart of Flip Flappers are the heroines, Cocona, Papika and Yayaka. The beginning of the series feature Cocona, leading her stereotypical uneventful school life, meeting Papika, who invites (read: quite forcefully drag) Cocona onto an adventure in a world known as Pure Illusion in order to collect shards known as "amorphous". The premise sounds quite unimpressive, but as they venture into the depths of this alternate reality, and the connections between the real world, the psyche of the characters and Pure Illusion start to surface, the actual themes of the series emerge.

The ability to flesh out characters with seemingly uninteresting "shells" is a force to be reckoned with. The overarching character growths of the main characters are well presented. From a cynical, distant and cold Cocona, Papika brought out the side of fierce compassion and caring for her friends, compatriots and even rivals through their ventures into the world of PI within Cocona. Same goes for Yayaka, who initially approached Cocona only for a recon mission, yet was influenced by Cocona to put her life at risk to save her friend. The show also goes above and beyond to attach symbolic meaning to each character, with Papika, Cocona and Yayaka representing Id, ego and superego in Freud's structure of the psyche. All these are not only done with focus on the characters, but also with each PI world the trio ventures into, depicting their personalities in a rich environment of props filled to the brim with symbolism and allegory. So, as they seek the piece of amorphous in each world, they are also coming to realization what their (among other characters') real desires, their real personalities, and who they really are in a more powerful manner than simple conversations can achieve.

Most psychological series flesh out the minds of characters through dialogues and monologues, with prime examples being the Monogatari series. Of course, Monogatari provides a brilliant atmosphere that partners with the characters well, but Flip Flappers takes it to the next level, integrating the objective, observable world with the immaterial, psychological world through PIs. It is through these worlds that we see the depth of characterization, all the while enjoying the feast of sakuga. From the snow world of Cocona, Papika emerges to break the ever-frozen lake of idleness. From the di-chromatic world of Iroha, we witness the past of a seemingly ordinary artist, and the powerful link between art and the mind. From a groundhog day scenario within a house haunted with faceless aberrations, we witness the power and omniprescence of fear and complacency that results. Countless aspects of the so-called "mind" of a human is explored within the context of these adventures.

I have always believed that the study of psychology lies on the boundary of science and art (not that I know a lot to profess anything substantial). While the scientific method is effective at examining the links between the physical (brain) and the immaterial (mind, psyche), it is often through art that some characteristics of human behaviour are explained the most thoroughly and articulated the most powerfully. The motif of mixtures between art and science is prevalent in this anime. While we have scientists, namely the Salt family, studying the world of PI and later exploiting it to gain control of the world, this entity is largely untamed, since it is the creation of Mimi, a character that is all but human. While Mimi throws into a fit of insanity when she discovers her daughter is about to be taken from her, the world of PI turns into the current state, and eventually infringes into the real world to take control of Cocona.

I am sure there is a lot more thematic considerations to discuss, and one could go much deeper with the implications and symbolism flashed in front of the screen in rapid succession. What I will highlight here is the concept of synchronization.

The power of the Flip Flappers, Cocona and Papika (and later Yayaka), lies in the idea of synchronization. Once the "impedance" between them is eliminated, they can realize their powers in the world of PI. That is why their powers come up when their lives are in danger: Even though Cocona is skeptical of Papika, she empathizes with her in the brink of lethal danger, and this eventually builds upon their friendship to achieve immeasurable, prodigious power. 

Indeed, when distrust is eliminated between humans, we can achieve what cannot even be imagined. This is also a major theme in Neon Genesis Evangelion: No matter how hard Shinji tries, he cannot eliminate the fears and anxiety in his heart to synchronize with the mecha suit, or with his compatriots. He is always overshadowed by feelings of inferiority, loneliness resulting from an unfulfilling childhood. Flip Flappers takes on a different view. Through trials and tribulations, Cocona realizes her true feelings for the one and only Papika, and her craving for adventure, which has always been suppressed by her mundane lifestyle.

Yet, are we better off with perfect synchronization? As I have examined in an earlier post, this is quite reminiscent of the Sibyl system in Psycho Pass, whose setting is mostly agreed upon to be a Dystopia. Individuality is an important trait of humans, and is what defines our existence. It is also synonymous, ergo, to imperfect interactions. Indeed, the actions of Salt Sr. is not dissimilar to establishing an all encompassing entity composed of nothing but minds. Controlling the resources of the world leads to taking over the world, but taking control over the "mental" dimension is almost by definition controlling the world as we know it. Hence, one of the overarching questions that this show throws out is whether we should explore the mind as it is under the lens of science, or appreciate it from afar, behind the barrier of artistic expression. Will we one day tap too far into the realms of the mind, and release the symbolic "Mimi" of the real world, who will wreak havoc in the world as we know it?

In passing, I would just recommend checking out the ED again. It gives me seriously nostalgic vibes of the fairy tales I have long abandoned since childhood.

Hikikomoris: A stare into the abyss

"A drama has a progressive plot, an emotional climax, and a resolution.

But our lives aren't like that. All we get day after day are a bunch of vague anxieties that are never really resolved."

The topic of hikikomori and otakus is not as new a topic as I had thought, though the exact beginning of such phenomenon is quite difficult to pin down, nor is it merely a national problem of Japan. It is a problem that exists in the current age, more pronounced as a problem in itself in Japan and neighbouring Asian countries, but nonetheless can be a phenomenon worldwide. It can be argued that the prevalence and ease of someone to become and stay as a hikikomori has been made easier thanks to the advent of mass media and the Internet, but the true nature of a person who decides to stop interacting with the society is rooted in far deeper and complex causes. In 2010, the Japanese government estimates that "700,000 individuals are in a state of hikikomori", with an average age of 31. With the disdain for individuals that deviate from the social normative image of a successful salaryman, such a figure does come as a rather nasty surprise. Or rather, as I shall elaborate, this could be interpreted as a chain of cause and effect, which should come off as less of a surprise than it apparently is.

Instead of expounding on the traits of hikikomoris and alluding only to abstract arguments, I shall present my views centred on some shows presenting such phenomenon, with the most obvious one none other than Welcome to the NHK (NHK from here on), a show I have done way inadequate justice in the past. Another remarkable one is Densha Otoko, a 2005 hit that brought a great spike of attention towards the issue of hikikomoris, but that is too much homework for an informal exposition like this one.

1. What is a hikikomori/otaku?

"You are a hikikomori, aren't you?"

The most fundamental thing one would approach when solving a problem is to define the problem itself. There are, of course, official definitions set by authorities to diagnose potential "patients" "suffering" from being a hikikomoris, but unfortunately, in an attempt to control the scope of the definition, it is rather dry and lacks a punchline. I personally favour the characterization of hikikomoris as recluses. Similarly, hikikomoris can be described as hermits, or loners. Yet, "recluses" carries a hint of rejection and refusal, which in my opinion is near the core of a true hikikomori. It also carries a trace of disdain of the external, as opposed to the traditionally recognized hermit, who makes peace between their internal self and the natural world, or a loner, which is quite neutral and objective (quantitative) in meaning. For example, to say that an ascetic is a hikikomori would be absurd.

There is a tendency to mistakenly define otakus as someone with an obsession with anime/manga, though this subset of otakus obviously occupy a large portion of the current generation of otakus. Otakus simply refer to a person with obsessive interest in something, be it electronics, automobiles, or even weaponry. There is also a motif of drawing an equal sign between hikikomoris and otakus, but in my opinion they merely overlap. An otaku could be a hikikomori, but also can function well in a society. A hikikomori can be an otaku, or wander aimlessly in the field of their isolation.

2. The Image of a Hikikomori

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,

The reason why hikikomoris fail at social interaction is often cited as their failure to put up an acceptable image for themselves. They are often depicted as unkempt, creepy and physically unfit. This almost makes too much sense: A fit, well-groomed individual would tend not to avoid social interaction, since the whole point of maintaining an image is to gain social favour. This preemptive depiction of hikikomoris is, dare I say, the major reason why hikikomoris are demonized and ostracized. Are hikikomoris really people who give no regard to their image and thus alienate themselves from the society?

In NHK, the reason why Satou fell into the state of being a hikikomori is precisely because of his consciousness of his image. He is so aware of his image that whenever he is in a crowd, he envisions everyone laughing at his pathetic appearance, even when he looks quite ordinary. He even attempts to leverage his sense of shame and asked his neighbour Yamazaki to photograph him performing indecent acts in the public. The quote from T.S. Elliot's Prufrock quite vividly sums up the anxiety of introverts facing the public, which is common to the minds of hikikomoris as well. The reason why hikikomoris never go out is due to their fear of people judging their image, and when they remove themselves from the public, they become even more detached to the need to keep clean and tidy, and thus spiral into the mess that they present themselves in.

3. The "Human world"

A hikikomori does not become one on his own volition, nor does he suddenly decide to become one a day and stops going out completely. To them, the normal member of the society (akin to the concept of "normies" within the 4chan /r9k/ community) is something that they simultaneously disdain and envy. They must have been rejected or shunned somehow from the society, causing a feeling of failure, and cannot but shut themselves in a confined space to avoid contact with others as much as possible. They only gave up on society because they were given up by the society.

While a sociable person would often release their welled-up emotions, whether of rage, sadness or whatnot, through talking to others and sharing their pain, there is no route for a hikikomori to do so. As a result, their negativity simply feeds back onto themselves, forming a vortex that never resolves itself. In NHK, this is readily seen from the delusions of Satou when he is alone (which is the case for most of the anime anyway), often aimed at twisted explanations around the reason why he has become a hikikomori. The lack of human interaction is indeed poisonous, and this is a very evident message from this show.

4. Boredom

Yet, perhaps even more prevalent and quite easily as destructive is the sense of boredom. The world of a hikikomori is grey. It is not full of passionate anger, as evangelists might be, or full of hope for the future, as aspiring teenagers will be. It is filled with a void with occasional blips of anxiety and trouble that never resolve themselves. They lead the most uninteresting lives imaginable.

Examining the soundtrack of NHK, one would find a lot of the conspicuous ones convey a strong sense of ennui, almost to the point where sickness comes into mind, where one's mind is so damaged he is incapable of any interesting thought. Examples include Gosui ni Tarasu Tsuri Ito, Hitori no Tame no Lullaby, Kyou Wa Yuuhi Yarou. They are all quite tranquil, yet extremely unsettling. To say that these tracks invoke a sense of sadness is not inaccurate, but whence does the melancholy come from? Perhaps more accurately they could be described as a sense of pity when viewed by an outsider, a sense of dread when viewed from people like me, who borders on being a shut-in, and a sense of realization for people similar to Satou to different degrees...

This is one of the most outstanding parts of the show. It speaks to the audience not through words but through invoking the sense of resonance. This was why I was not able to enjoy the show to the extent I am currently able to, since I barely knew what a prolonged incubation of solitude feels like when I first entered university, when I first viewed this show. This returns me to my point that hikikomoris do not willingly become one, like one would apply for a job. It is a mixture of fear, boredom and loneliness, the most dangerous poisons to the mind.

5. Lies

One of the criticisms of NHK that I often see is the cringy behaviour of Satou, for lack of a better word. When is Satou cringy? For me, it seems that the moments where he deliberately puts up an image of being "functional" in front of Misaki, fabricating lies after lies about how he is productive and not a hikikomori, and in front of his mother, feigning a satisfactory and on-track life that induces the most cringe. The reason why this is cringy is his poor attempts at it, begging the question of why he would bother to lie at the first place.

Whether he is convinced that his own lies are effective is debatable, but the more lies he tells throughout the series, the more he realizes how hollow his life must be. He had no accountability to Misaki, yet instinctively tried to display some form of well-being. He has become so used to lying to get out of inconvenient situations and explanations, that he lies to his mother like second nature. In a stereotypical show, the villain would lie to the world, hiding his machinations until the very end. Here, Satou's lies serve only as a self-destructive move, pushing him further and further down the spiral of despair. This is where the echo chamber really closes in.

6. The necessity of Manga/Anime (and everything peripheral)

"This is a sub-culture Japan prides itself on!"

The reason I got into anime is admittedly the most obvious one: To attempt to seek replacement for the lack of affection, love and friendship when I was in my first year. It turns out that it did not work, and I (very thankfully) never got into the mindset to be attracted to imaginary characters (the only reason I would like a character is when he/she is someone I can relate to, usually characters with some sort of troubled minds). However, this highlights the necessity of associating anime/manga and other "otaku" cultures with hikikomoris, who clearly suffers the plights I described above.

I suppose for some, these media do work "as intended", in that the characters really serve the purpose of replacing real life humans well, so that they can sate the urge for human interaction and somehow alleviate loneliness. NHK provides a completely different viewpoint though. It attempts to subvert the gratuitous connection between hikikomoris and anime. Satou's case is obvious: His enjoyment in the "galges" Yamazaki gave him as research materials quickly dissipated, and he found himself unable to disconnect the protagonist for which he was supposed to create for the game he was creating with Yamazaki with the image of Misaki. For Yamazaki, even though he prides himself in being an otaku, filling his room with merchandise and going to vocational school for creating these games, he eventually gave all this up in pursuit of Nanako, his classmate, and even used it as a method to make a clean, but painful, cut with Nanako after he discovers he has to leave Tokyo for his family. We can therefore see that anime is but a superficial attempt at replacing reality to anyone with reasonably sane minds. It may carry meaning as an art form, just like any other medium, and does very well in certain cases (such as the anime in question, NHK), but it does not work as a form of hard escapism, at least not to the degree that one would think it does to hikikomoris. Therefore, when I see people blaming anime for the problem of hikikomoris, I cannot but feel unconvinced.

7. The necessity of (MMO) Gaming

"You have to log out... Permanently..."

Gaming, especially (massive) multiplayer online (MMO) games, are a totally different story. I again speak from personal experience here, but the interactivity of games and the feeling of accomplishment one can get from them cause them to be much more of an addiction than anime/manga. They are much better at providing a sense of productivity, that hikikomoris desperately crave to fill the void that is their daily lives.

In NHK, the concept of real money trading (RMT) is introduced as a further motivation for sticking to games. Instead of only gaining achievements virtually, the possibility of real life monetary gains is opened up to hikikomoris. The illusion that one can simply sit at their computers and naively grind at the game and sustain their lifestyle (which in ordinary circumstances would generate no income at all), all the while garnering respect from others (also desperately craven) because of their "smart" way of earning is formed within the minds of hikikomoris. It all seems too perfect for them.

Now I am not one to bash video game companies for "deliberately getting customers addicted to their products", because that is the essence of their purpose as a commercial entity, as with any other commercial entities really. I merely remark here that the moment a person's craving for achievement and recognition is sated is the moment they truly disconnect themselves from the society, and that could be a dangerous thing as per the discussion above.

8. The Past of Hikikomoris

We have discussed at length about the face of hikikomoris, but do they hide anything from their appearance? What could be their history, leading up to such a person in the modern day?

I particularly like the story of Satou's high school life in NHK. One would expect Satou's past to be much more like Yamazaki's: Bullied and ostracized for being a nerd. Yet, Satou could be deemed completely opposite in a way: He ostracizes himself. Every time Satou reminisces about the past, it is accompanied by Kyou Wa Yuuhi Yarou, a soundtrack that clearly brings out the boredom and a lingering hint of dissatisfaction that is almost to the point of annoyance. Satou willingly isolates himself from others, because he finds no interest in interaction with people. One could even say he is quite cool, a descriptor I am sure would not be applicable to hikikomoris.

"Why would you make an effort at all? What difference does it make?" is the attitude of Satou, and is what he said to the class president Kobayashi while she was busy with the work for the school festival. This attitude quickly becomes defeatism and escapism in the world outside of high school, and is indeed not far from what hikikomoris think about the world: A hostile place that is not worth wasting energy on. They would rather spend their days closed off in a virtual world than interact with reality.

It is quite eerie how some mild cynicism, characteristic of quite a lot of teenagers, could quickly turn into the toxin leading to the life of a hikikomori.

9. Attitude to Love

"Go to hell, bitches!"

This is what Yamazaki said with regards to women. A clear disdain and hatred, it seems. It would not deviate much from the overarching theme of misanthropy displayed by hikikomoris. But again, is this their true self? Or are they sexual deviants that crave the opposite sex only for carnal desires, as displayed much throughout the series by Satou's delusions as well?

Such an interpretation would fail to account for why Satou did not take advantage of Hitomi in various occasions, or how Yamazaki rejects Nanako's advances, or how Satou rejected Misaki's confession towards the end. It is clear that hikikomoris are more than the perverts the society would portray them as. What they desire is companionship, someone to convince them that the world is not as horrible as it seems.

It would even stand to say that hikikomoris are not sexual deviants because they are hikikomoris, and they subscribe to an extremely pessimistic view of the world. I am sure for most pessimists, what they eventually hope is not actually a world that verifies their ideas, but a world that comes out to prove them wrong, as entitled as it may sound. Pessimists are often the most devout idealists, and this couldn't be more true for hikikomoris. Exactly the same goes for their craving for pure love, instead of the commercialized and sexualized version of cheap and shallow "love" that is promoted in the modern world. Thus, when they see their ideals getting destroyed, such as the time when Yamazaki saw his girl friend lie to him to go to the fireworks with another guy, he is more than crushed.

10. Attitude to Death

"I don't want to meet anyone. I don't want to answer my cell phone. I don't want to do anything. I don't even want to live, but dying is such a hassle."

It is truly when one comes face to face with death that he would be honest about everything. And indeed it should be that, despite living a life largely built on escapism, when a hikikomori faces with death, he cannot escape anymore. Or can he?

The "offline meeting" arc of NHK struck me as the most expressive few episodes in the whole show. It is the climax of the show, where the zenith of Satou's path as a hikikomori occurs. Or rather, I should say it is the opposite of a climax, an anti-climax of sorts, as Satou, wishing to change his life for the better and face his long buried affection for Hitomi, decides to tag along on the trip Hitomi is going for. Unbeknownst to him, Hitomi intended this to be the last trip of her life, going to the "island closest to heaven" to take her own life due to her depression.

A person reaching the end of the route of severe depression or pain, wishing for death, would become almost fearless towards the end. He has nothing to fear anymore, once he has overcome the barrier of death. Despite the continual depression of hikikomoris, they have a strange attachment to live. Perhaps they know that they are a failure and burden to the society and their families, and wallow in guilt and self-loathing all day, but the primordial fear that surrounds death is not dispelled, and they would cling onto the last trace of life left in them, for they fear, and the best thing they can do is, unfortunately, fear.

The will to live is biologically inherent in every human, hikikomori or not, so much as the drive for sex and craving for food. As we witness towards the end, even when life looked the most miserable to them, the party looking for death had a small but undying hope that things will turn out for the better, and they would not need to commit suicide. Despite being played around like a fool for the duration of the trip, and finding out the Hitomi has never had him in her heart. Even when he decided to take his own life together with Hitomi, somehow like a romantic suicide, Hitomi's fiance shows up at the last second, denying him of this possibility. Yet, Satou could not bring himself to actually die, but instead letting out a pathetic scream down the cliff. Perhaps the quote from Yamazaki concludes this feeling of fear:

"People like us [hikikomoris/otakus] aren't qualified to be involved in such a dramatic incident as suicide. No matter how depressed we are, no matter how much we suffer, we will just come back and live idiotically every day."

It is at this point that Satou realized why he has not taken his life yet, and why he would never be able to. It turns out that even in the face of death, a hikikomori is so filled with anxiety and inferiority that he cannot go forward, all the while escaping from the society and shutting themselves in a room, like a dying patient relying on life support machines to sustain what's left in a shell of a human body. The world of hikikomoris is truly at the brink of absurdity, yet they drag on, like zombies, because they fear.

11. The World Around Hikikomoris

Apart from looking at hikikomoris, NHK also features a range of side characters that represents the society around them.

What happens when one feels worthless? How does one gain some sense of worth? The simple solution is to find someone even more worthless than you and abuse them. This is probably the reason why bullies exist, and why they are so relentless. When a person reaches the end of their sense of self-esteem, the will to look for someone to belittle grows stronger than ever. NHK places the characters around Satou and Yamazaki cleverly to expose this fact.

Hitomi: The working class

If hikikomori tendencies stem from laziness and inability to work and fit in as a functional member of the society, then supposedly a member of the working class, or rather, one with a stable and well-paying job, like Hitomi, working as a civil servant, would be something to dream of. However, the portrayal of the hardships of her life seem to point out why hikikomoris cannot accept the aspect of having a job in the society. Her life is far from rosy, and what she imagined would be ideal. She has a creative and inquisitive mind, wanting to fight against the "conspiracy" that surrounds every inexplicably unfortunate happenstances of the world. Yet, her job basically forces her to stay low, and when she tries to improve on the status quo by suggesting revolutionary changes, she would be silenced and isolated.

Moreover, the prospect of having a lover is not as rosy as it seems either. She feels even more lonely as her fiance puts work over caring for her, never trying to listen and understand her personally. He is a perfectly successful person, dedicated to his work and looks nice, but this very perfection leaves no space for mutual connection between Hitomi and him. Even when Hitomi eventually falls into depression, having to take various anti-depressants, and eventually went on to participate in a suicide pact, he never notices till the last second.

Why did Hitomi find Satou to chat before her "offline meeting"? It is precisely the possibility of finding someone whom she can extract a small sense of self-worth out of that drove her to find him. This is apparent when she never drops the small references to how Satou is a hikikomori every time she meets him. But to condemn her is not totally justified either. Maybe she is simply trying to relive the times she had spent with Satou in high school, where she had no worries about life.

To Satou, Hitomi is exactly what he always calls her: Senpai (upperclassman), someone unreachable, of a higher rank than he is. Despite holding disdain against the society, hikikomoris never let go of the prospect of being re-accepted into the society. To him, she also is the embodiment of regrets, of how he held the cool and aloft image in front of her and never reached out. It seems that she is the perfect analogy of what living the "normal" and "successful" life is to hikikomoris, and the way Satou idolizes him is quite symbolic indeed.

Kobayashi: The Marginalized

As apparent from the presentation of Hitomi, hikikomoris are not the only "losers" that suffer in the world of NHK. From a hard working class president, Kobayashi has fallen into the lure of pyramid schemes in order to fund his brother's hikikomori lifestyle (or lack of one, to be frank). Her brother shares a similar attitude with Satou, only even more entrenched in the depths of illusions of grandiose from the MMORPGs mentioned previously. He never leaves his room, and completely relies on his sister to bring him food literally to his doorstep to sustain himself in the completely enclosed room only lit by the computer screen.

Kobayashi seems to be a reflection of how hikikomoris not only damage themselves, but also affect people who care about him, whom a lot of hikikomoris, drowned in cynical thoughts, often neglect. I for one had quite some disgust for Kobayashi's dirty tactics to lure the main characters into the scheme along with her, because a pyramid scheme is, by its own nature, a scheme where one benefits from abusing others. Nevertheless I could not take some if not most of it back when the story behind her struggles were revealed.

Yet on the other hand, we see the fears, the reasons hikikomoris hate the society manifest themselves on the fate of Kobayashi. She was an upright person, willing to work and motivate others to do so under her leadership, and shared her own portion of hardships in finding a job after graduation. Yet, company upon company shut down in front of her, and she never gained a stable job. With her brother's degenerate lifestyle, the blame could not be completely placed on her when she was lured by the promise of freedom from monetary stresses by simply joining an organizations and promoting its products. All the excuses of how the job market is fierce, and with no skills a hikikomori cannot possibly find a job are all coming true somehow.

Her story (or rather her brother's story) does end on an uplifting, albeit rather sardonic note though: When Kobayashi's organization was exposed and its head arrested, she was truly out of ways to sustain herself, let alone her brother. In the midst of despair, her brother stopped receiving food from Kobayashi. It was only near the brink of starving to death that her brother dragged his half-dead body out of the house and found a job. The solution was in front of the Kobayashis' eyes the whole time...

In the relentless attempts of Kobayashi in trying to drag the main characters into her scheme, we again see how, once a person is at his/her wit's end, when he/she can only go on by being the villain and abuse others for psychological/economical well-being, he/she would not hesitate to do so. Amidst Satou's journey of trying to redeem himself as a hikikomori, this plotline antagonizes Kobayashi very severely. But, upon my second viewing, I find that it is more apt to say that she is again a symbol for the hostile environment around hikikomoris, which feeds back into itself, creating more and more hikikomoris.

Misaki: Mutual Abuse

"Society wants unemployed hikikomoris to exist, because people always need someone they are comfortable looking down upon."

In the first viewing of this show, I almost missed the backstory to Misaki Nakahara, the cute heroine who almost seems too good for Satou, knocking on his door to ask him to participate in her hikikomori reformation project, bringing food to him when he ran out of money, pretending to be his lover to fool his mother... Just because she enjoyed looking down on Satou from her hilltop mansion down into his measly tiny flat like a voyeur. However, one could almost say that Misaki acts out of subconsciousness, telling from the way she reacts when Satou falls out with her eventually, discovering her spying into his daily life. As someone who empathized with Satou more initially, I too was covered by annoyance and anger to listen to anything she had to say.

Misaki was portrayed pretty much as a foil to Satou initially: A clean, attractive, well-off and well-mannered girl coming from the upper class. It does seem really ridiculous almost that she would have her eye on Satou, the "failure of a human being" (in Misaki's words) that he is. As we stand on Satou's point of view, other characters gradually open up to him. People such as Yamazaki, Hitomi, Kobayashi all have their stories and struggles told to us in one way or another. However, Misaki, despite appearing the earliest in the show, remained a mystery for the majority of the show. It is as if she was hiding something from Satou, and by proxy, us. As we venture through the journey of Satou through his attempts to escape from being a hikikomori, we almost learn nothing of her until the very final episodes.

It is not until the last episode that Misaki's backstory was fully revealed. Her flashbacks to her mother committing suicide (off of a cliff, just like Satou attempted to), and the domestic abuse she had to endure for years all came falling into one whole picture. Upon the second viewing, when I chose to adopt a less judgmental and subjective angle and tried to understand Misaki, I found that it was equally plausible to stand on her side as well, as I was (and to an extent, still am) someone like her.

It turns out that Misaki is not that much of a foil to Satou. Much as Satou, Hitomi and Kobayashi are both victims of the society, Misaki is no exception. Since her traumatic experience with her family, she has closed herself off from others. The project that she organizes with Satou was merely a disguise, to allow her to know Satou better in order to pry into his weaknesses and, though the process, be reassured that someone is more pathetic than she is.

If Hitomi and Kobayashi would represent groups of people in the society, Misaki would better be deemed as a symbolism of the entire attitude towards hikikomoris. Under a facade of helping them get back to society and be functional, they never would want them to be surpassed by the people they are helping, since the very purpose of them helping the hikikomoris would then be gone. But can we really blame them? After all, they are acting out of instinct: to find comfort in knowing that there are people who fare much worse than them, and almost everything that humans do eventually would boil down to this sole motive. More or less.

12. Conclusion: The Salvation of hikikomoris?


"Save you? No I can't do that. You are the only one who can save yourself." -Bakemonogatari

NHK ends on a really anticlimactic note, just as most of the arcs in the story itself: Once a hikikomori runs out of money, he will no longer be able to sustain himself, and only then will they crawl out of their room to look for work. So anticlimactic that it almost resembles a hikikomori's life. It turns out that they are not trapped by the society itself, but their own escapism from the potential that they will be rejected and ostracized, which feeds back upon itself: The more they isolate themselves, the more they are detached from the outer world, the more they are ostracized.

However, this show does not serve to condemn. It is almost like a documentary, except the documented is not examined with the lens of science but with literature, and depictions of the psychology of such people. This alone speaks more than any horrifying statistics or photo evidence of the squalor of a hikikomori's room would ever hope to achieve. There are times of sadness and empathy for Satou's loneliness, of frustration and irritation for his cringeworthy acts, of happiness for him improving on his attitude a bit, just to be followed by annoyance of him falling back to his ground state. And at the end of the day, as a borderline hikikomori myself, NHK understands, comforts and warns, which is what a show about hikikomoris will ever need.

Maybe there really is a conspiracy by the NHK, and everyone you have ever met stands on their side, leaving you all alone. Even so, you can fight and live on, and by god you better put on a damn good fight.