(no subject)
Okay, so up until now I've been liveblogging Fullmetal Alchemist as I read through scanlations, which basically comes out to a lot of cheerful random babble. I'm not saying I'm not going to do that anymore - I may or may not - but I want to talk about Volume 15 separately.
Fullmetal Alchemist is a shonen manga; the main plot, as advertised, follows two teenaged brothers who committed an ill-advised attempt at bringing back the dead, who are On A Quest to reverse the damage they did to themselves in the attempt. They work within the military system, and it's clear from the beginning that the country's military - and therefore most of the adult characters in the story - has been deeply shaped by a campaign that took place six years ago, the Ishvalan War of Extermination. As the story progresses, you learn bits and pieces about the war. Most people won't talk much about it; almost everyone is scarred by it; the initial main antagonist is a survivor from the other side, out for revenge, and the kids can't understand why some of their superiors think he might have a point.
In Volume 15, Edward Elric, the Hot-Tempered but Idealistic teenaged protagonist, who doesn't believe in killing or revenge, finally asks Lieutenant Hawkeye to tell him about the war. The rest of the volume is a brutal and complex extended flashback of a genocidal war - largely from the perspective of the soldiers who are on the attacking side. A soldier in the midst of a breakdown tries to show mercy and is promptly warned that he could be court-martialed for it; one doctor is conscripted to perform torture on prisoners, and others are killed by a patient lashing out for the loss of his entire family; an officer is killed by one of his men on the battlefield, after stupid decisions that endanger lives; our young idealistic viewpoint characters kill and kill and wonder why, but do nothing to stop or change it. It's an atmosphere where the most psychopathic and sadistic character in the story becomes the voice of hard truth: "Maybe you were prepared to kill one or two people, but not thousands? The moment you put on this uniform, you knew something like this could be expected of you. Why do you act as though you're the victims?"
It's an incredible gutpunch to see these characters that you have grown to like and respect over the course of the story, and have them lay it out flat: they have done unforgivable things. In a just society, they would be war criminals. Arakawa makes them completely identifiable, and at the same time does not give an inch about the brutality of what they are doing. What makes it work, why it's so strong and not an apologia, is that this isn't a story about people who feel really bad about their actions and thus are redeemed and forgiven. Edward tries to say, but the whole thing was due to [supernatural forces underlying the story]; they're to blame, not you. Hawkeye tells him that isn't how it works. No matter who was pulling the strings, human beings did those things to other humans. In a later chapter, the doctor who committed torture meets with his wife and son, after an extended separation. He's given up practicing medicine out of guilt and trauma. His son says to him, "I know you've done things that can't be forgiven." But that doesn't mean the doctor should give up the chance to save more lives. Forgiveness and redemption are not on the table here. It's about accountability, and taking responsibility, and doing your absolute best to make sure it doesn't happen again.
There's a note at the front of the volume from the author: In researching this volume, I interviewed veterans who had been at the front during World War II. I read countless books, examined film footage, and listened to many detailed and intense stories firsthand, but the comment that affected me the most came from a former soldier, who lowered his gaze to the tabletop and said, "I never watch war movies."
I read the Ishval flashback arc of the manga in scanlation over the weekend. Yesterday, I went out and bought the volume - the first one I have actually bought, although now I think I do eventually intend to buy them all (if only for the hilarious commentary at the back of each volume) - and reread it through again. I don't know if the volume would stand on its own without the rest of the manga, though I think it might; on the one hand, it's a powerful story in and of itself, and on the other I suspect it has a lot more impact once you've already spent fourteen volumes getting to know the postwar versions of the characters involved. Either way, it's one of the strongest fictional depictions of war and its consequences that I've ever read.
Fullmetal Alchemist is a shonen manga; the main plot, as advertised, follows two teenaged brothers who committed an ill-advised attempt at bringing back the dead, who are On A Quest to reverse the damage they did to themselves in the attempt. They work within the military system, and it's clear from the beginning that the country's military - and therefore most of the adult characters in the story - has been deeply shaped by a campaign that took place six years ago, the Ishvalan War of Extermination. As the story progresses, you learn bits and pieces about the war. Most people won't talk much about it; almost everyone is scarred by it; the initial main antagonist is a survivor from the other side, out for revenge, and the kids can't understand why some of their superiors think he might have a point.
In Volume 15, Edward Elric, the Hot-Tempered but Idealistic teenaged protagonist, who doesn't believe in killing or revenge, finally asks Lieutenant Hawkeye to tell him about the war. The rest of the volume is a brutal and complex extended flashback of a genocidal war - largely from the perspective of the soldiers who are on the attacking side. A soldier in the midst of a breakdown tries to show mercy and is promptly warned that he could be court-martialed for it; one doctor is conscripted to perform torture on prisoners, and others are killed by a patient lashing out for the loss of his entire family; an officer is killed by one of his men on the battlefield, after stupid decisions that endanger lives; our young idealistic viewpoint characters kill and kill and wonder why, but do nothing to stop or change it. It's an atmosphere where the most psychopathic and sadistic character in the story becomes the voice of hard truth: "Maybe you were prepared to kill one or two people, but not thousands? The moment you put on this uniform, you knew something like this could be expected of you. Why do you act as though you're the victims?"
It's an incredible gutpunch to see these characters that you have grown to like and respect over the course of the story, and have them lay it out flat: they have done unforgivable things. In a just society, they would be war criminals. Arakawa makes them completely identifiable, and at the same time does not give an inch about the brutality of what they are doing. What makes it work, why it's so strong and not an apologia, is that this isn't a story about people who feel really bad about their actions and thus are redeemed and forgiven. Edward tries to say, but the whole thing was due to [supernatural forces underlying the story]; they're to blame, not you. Hawkeye tells him that isn't how it works. No matter who was pulling the strings, human beings did those things to other humans. In a later chapter, the doctor who committed torture meets with his wife and son, after an extended separation. He's given up practicing medicine out of guilt and trauma. His son says to him, "I know you've done things that can't be forgiven." But that doesn't mean the doctor should give up the chance to save more lives. Forgiveness and redemption are not on the table here. It's about accountability, and taking responsibility, and doing your absolute best to make sure it doesn't happen again.
There's a note at the front of the volume from the author: In researching this volume, I interviewed veterans who had been at the front during World War II. I read countless books, examined film footage, and listened to many detailed and intense stories firsthand, but the comment that affected me the most came from a former soldier, who lowered his gaze to the tabletop and said, "I never watch war movies."
I read the Ishval flashback arc of the manga in scanlation over the weekend. Yesterday, I went out and bought the volume - the first one I have actually bought, although now I think I do eventually intend to buy them all (if only for the hilarious commentary at the back of each volume) - and reread it through again. I don't know if the volume would stand on its own without the rest of the manga, though I think it might; on the one hand, it's a powerful story in and of itself, and on the other I suspect it has a lot more impact once you've already spent fourteen volumes getting to know the postwar versions of the characters involved. Either way, it's one of the strongest fictional depictions of war and its consequences that I've ever read.