I'm Thankful for Anime! THE FINAL CUT.
Hey, do you all remember when I decided to do a countdown of my top ten anime episodes of all time? WAY BACK IN 2007? And how I did every single one EXCEPT FOR MY #1 EPISODE?
Well, you probably don't. But I do!
Unbeknownst to you all, I did do a write up, but I was not able to finish it and then I kind of left it to moulder. But now it is done, and now I can share it.
But before I do, here are some links for those who would refresh their memories on my other 9 top episode choices:
Countdown... 10 to 7.
10. Hikaru no Go, episode 60, Farewell Hikaru
09. Honey and Clover II, episode 12, "...I'm here"
08. Rozen Maiden Ouverture, episode 2, Vanity
07. Mushishi episode 20, The Sea of Brushes
6 to 5
06. Ghost in the Shell, Standalone Complex, episode 25, Smoke of Gunpowder, Hail of Bullets
05. Digimon 02, episode 8, Ken's Secret
4
04. Neon Genesis Evangelion, episode 22, Don't Be
3
03. .hack//Sign, episode 19, Recollection
2
02. Hikaru no Go, episode 75, That Same Old Smile
... and now. Finally. Finally.
At last, here it is: my number one most absolute favourite anime episode of all time!
01. Haibane Renmei, episode 13, Reki's World/A Prayer/Epilogue
nymeria, you called it, and I suspect it will not come as a surprise to anyone who knows me even a little. However, despite my deep love of Haibane Renmei, I do not recall ever making a very detailed post explaining exactly what it is about the series that moves me. I hope this corrects that.
To the people who have not seen this series (*), I strongly recommend that you not read this summary, and go watch Haibane Renmei instead. Really. It's only 13 episodes. The pacing is kind of slow and dreamy, especially at first, and initially there is a sort of otherworldly slice-of-life feel that might not appeal to everyone. But the payout at the end, as I am about to describe, is simply one of the most lovely things I have ever seen. Not just in anime, not just in art: in my lifetime.
Obviously, this series will not affect everyone as strongly as it has me. That's okay, because Haibane Renmei has sacrificed universal appeal in order to capture a more specific audience. I don't think it was created for people who think they are better than everyone else, nor do I think that liking this anime series is a sign of higher taste or a more evolved soul. It's just... well, you know how Michaelangelo's art has a sort of universal appeal, but Picasso's is more divisive? Haibane Renmei risks boring and alienating some in the hopes of burrowing more deeply into the hearts of those who appreciate it. By courting a minority audience, it aspires to be a life-changing art; for me, it succeeds.
So: before clicking on the cut, consider yourself and whether you think your taste might be similar to mine. If there is any chance you might fall in love with this series, do not read what I have to say about it until you have seen it through to the end.
Really, think about it!
That said, here it is:
Reki's World/A Prayer/Epilogue
Blue moonlight on a cold winter night. Following the festival of the bells, the Haibane of Old Home are asleep, sprawled out together in the main room. No one has cleared the table or done the dishes, so the remains of the holiday feast are much in evidence. Everyone is asleep, except for Reki, who takes one last look before stepping out to her studio. She is going to fight her last battle with the dream that haunts and defines her, and she has every expectation of losing. Sayonora, she says, closing the door. Goodbye.
Reki is one of the Haibane who lives in the town of Guri. What exactly are Haibane? What is this walled town which houses humans and Haibane alike, and which is almost completely cut off from the world? Answers to these questions are vague at best... throughout the anime we have followed the story of one "newborn" Haibane, a young girl who is given the name Rakka, and we know what Rakka knows. It's not much.
Still, there are some concrete facts: Haibane are people with grey wings (wings too puny for flight) and golden halos that need to be forged. They are not humans, although it is clear that they used to be, in "the outside world." Each one comes into the world of the town with only a dream to connect her to her former self, and is born from a large cocoon which shelters her in the earliest stages of her metamorphosis. Cocoons can only appear in "nests," which are places where humans used to live and work but which have long been abandoned: in the town of Guri, Old Home is one of them.
Haibane come into the world with no personal memories; they cannot even recall their old names. Furthermore, they have been cut off from that former world completely; as Reki tells Rakka early on, just as the Haibane have forgotten all their memories of the other world, the other world has forgotten all about them. The series begins with the dream that Rakka has in the cocoon, falling upside down high in the sky. A bird tries to save her, but of course is too small to do anything effectual, and Rakka falls into the town of Guri, and into her cocoon. Her name, Rakka, means falling; all Haibane are named after something from their dream. This is all she has left of the person she used to be.
When Rakka emerges from the cocoon, it takes a day before her wings emerge, and it's like cutting teeth... the wings break from her back in the midst of a delerious fever, and with a lot of pain. This all happens before she gets a chance to learn anything substantial, but even after she recovers (and obtains her pasted-on halo) she has questions which will never be answered. Early on Rakka feels lonely for her lost memories and former self, but very soon gets caught up in the gentle routines of the town.
The town is a place outside of time. It's a lot like a old European city; they have no modern books, no television, no cars... but it's not a place that is simply mired in the past, because things like motorcycles, modern cigarettes, CD walkmans all exist. Nothing is allowed into the town which gives clues as to the nature of the outside world, no maps or histories, but the gatekeepers of the town (the Toga) do bring in things that are deemed to be harmless.
Anyone who has read Haruki Murakami's Hardboiled Wonderland and The End of the World will recognize both the town and the significance of it. In Murakami's novel, the main character's consciousness is divided along two completely unrelated tracks, and by hypnotizing himself he is able to switch between the worlds. Anyone who has read Murakami in general knows that this is a popular theme with him... in fact, one he obsesses over... the idea that people can lose both themselves or other people through a metaphysical slipping of self away from the world as it is, into another more "interior" world: the world of the soul.
Haibane Renmei is an interesting riff on this idea, because unlike Murakami's work in Hardboiled Wonderland, this world cannot simply be an alternate consciousness that exists only in the mind of one individual, because each Haibane is clearly a separate individual who also has an existence in the outside world. Raka, Nemu, Kana, Kuu, Hikari: these are not just figments of Rakka's imagination, these are real people who exist outside of herself. The town of Guri is not just Rakka's dream. It seems to be a real place, although one that exists out of step with time and our world, and Murakami's later work Kafka on the Shore presents a similar world, but since it was not published until well after Haibane Renmei was produced, it could not have existed as an influence. Instead, Haibane Renmei is Yoshitoshi ABe's unique elaboration of Murakami's earlier work.
I do not think it is insignificant that ABe is primarily an artist. As I've discussed with cryogenia in chat (a long time ago!), there seems to be a fundamental difference in how artists and writers conceive both story and character. As someone who has straddled the divide (I was an artist before I was a writer, although I never developed my artistic skills nearly so well), I am fairly well equipped to articulate some of these differences. In my readings on Nabokov's lectures on literature, he mentioned that with art, it is possible to appreciate the entire work of art as a whole, and although it might take some time to really let it all "sink it," it's all there in front of your eyes in one flash. With novels, this sort of understanding can only come with familiarity: you need to read a book over and over again before you "see" the whole picture the way you can in an instant with a work of art. In some ways, this makes understanding novels easier... all it takes is the discipline of reading a book over and over again to see, but with art it is possible to look at a piece of art and never really see it with that deep understanding: art appreciation at this deep level is actually a very difficult skill to acquire, because it means radically mastering one's processing of vision.
Artists are a lot more used to telling story by implication. Entire Wagnerian-sagas of emotion need to be portrayed. The exact position of a wrist, the exactly gauged limpidy of gaze combined with a stony stiffness to indicate (for example) duplicity: in writing, these things can be so much more easily rendered through dialogue and events. And yet, with art even though you have to struggle so hard to get it right, you leave less for the observer to do at the outset: you look, you see. Reading is a process and takes time. It is understood that if you sit and think about what a book says for long enough, eventually most of what is important in it will come to you.
It is possible to look at a piece of artwork your whole life and never understand a thing about it, if you never really allow yourself to "see." It's a lot harder to read and read and read a book and miss the point so thoroughly, because reading is a task that demands comprehension whereas sight merely invites it.
In the end, the work for understanding art is hard. A truly good piece of art has a hidden hook, an invisible door which takes time and patience to appreciate.
Haibane Renmei has this kind of hook.
What happens in this episode that I love so much is very simple. It can be told in a single paragraph, or maybe two: Reki has run out of time. She retreats to her sanctuary which is also her prison, the room inside her room. This is where she tries to paint the vision of the dream she cannot remember. Understanding her dream is seen as the key to understanding herself. Rakka, who is her friend and who has been trying to help her, brings a little box which contains Reki's "true name" to her. In the box she learns that her name Reki, which she has thought of as meaning small stones, also has the meaning to tear asunder.
Reki remembers her dream at last. And her dream is likely her last memory of her life in the other world. She dreams about a train track, and a blood-red moon, and she realizes that the train track is where she threw her life away and was "torn asunder." This causes her to give up hope; she realizes she has been worthless from the beginning, that salvation was something that could never come to someone as selfish as she is. So she turns Rakka away, saying cruel things in a ploy to get Rakka to leave. Rakka does leave the inner room, but outside in the place where Reki sleeps she finds Reki's art and her journal, and realizes that Reki had been with her from the beginning, and truly cared about her, no matter what she said. So Rakka returns to Reki, and in a moment of drama saves her just as a ghost train is about to kill Reki's hope and take her forever. Saved, Reki takes on the last and final meaning of her name, which is to be a stepping stone for the weak. From here she finally is able to "leave the nest" and achieve the Day of Flight.
I have watched this series many times. In particular, I have watched this episode many, many times. And each time, I learn something new.
First and most importantly, I identify completely with Reki. She is me and I am her; I've had this sort of feeling with fictional characters from books and film before, but never to this extent. I do not feel comfortable going too deeply into the concrete and personal reasons for why this is, but whenever I want to have someone understand my inner self, whenever I want someone to truly understand me, and when I am feeling inarticulate and awkward and it is difficult for me to be open, all I need to do is tell that person "watch Haibane Renmei; it will tell you everything you need to know."
Simplistic, perhaps, to allow the entirety of my being to be summarizes so neatly.
If you imagine life to be like art, however, you can capture the sum of one person in one glance... and still be learning things for the rest of your life.
Now, I'm not trying to say I'm a piece of art (although I am a piece of work, sometimes). But I want you to understand that when I say "Haibane Renmei tells you everything you need to know about me" I truly mean it. Not because I think of myself as being so particularly uncomplicated, but because I think that for me, Haibane Renmei achieves something grand. It has meaning that grows with time. And I'm convinced that somewhere inside of it is my secret hook, the hidden door which will take me where I need to go.
This is what Haibane Renmei means to me. This is why it is my favourite.
(*) excepting anax, who could not get beyond four episodes and refuses to watch any more on the principle that HR is "so not my thing" (and he's right, it's not).
Well, you probably don't. But I do!
Unbeknownst to you all, I did do a write up, but I was not able to finish it and then I kind of left it to moulder. But now it is done, and now I can share it.
But before I do, here are some links for those who would refresh their memories on my other 9 top episode choices:
Countdown... 10 to 7.
10. Hikaru no Go, episode 60, Farewell Hikaru
09. Honey and Clover II, episode 12, "...I'm here"
08. Rozen Maiden Ouverture, episode 2, Vanity
07. Mushishi episode 20, The Sea of Brushes
6 to 5
06. Ghost in the Shell, Standalone Complex, episode 25, Smoke of Gunpowder, Hail of Bullets
05. Digimon 02, episode 8, Ken's Secret
4
04. Neon Genesis Evangelion, episode 22, Don't Be
3
03. .hack//Sign, episode 19, Recollection
2
02. Hikaru no Go, episode 75, That Same Old Smile
... and now. Finally. Finally.
At last, here it is: my number one most absolute favourite anime episode of all time!
01. Haibane Renmei, episode 13, Reki's World/A Prayer/Epilogue
nymeria, you called it, and I suspect it will not come as a surprise to anyone who knows me even a little. However, despite my deep love of Haibane Renmei, I do not recall ever making a very detailed post explaining exactly what it is about the series that moves me. I hope this corrects that.
To the people who have not seen this series (*), I strongly recommend that you not read this summary, and go watch Haibane Renmei instead. Really. It's only 13 episodes. The pacing is kind of slow and dreamy, especially at first, and initially there is a sort of otherworldly slice-of-life feel that might not appeal to everyone. But the payout at the end, as I am about to describe, is simply one of the most lovely things I have ever seen. Not just in anime, not just in art: in my lifetime.
Obviously, this series will not affect everyone as strongly as it has me. That's okay, because Haibane Renmei has sacrificed universal appeal in order to capture a more specific audience. I don't think it was created for people who think they are better than everyone else, nor do I think that liking this anime series is a sign of higher taste or a more evolved soul. It's just... well, you know how Michaelangelo's art has a sort of universal appeal, but Picasso's is more divisive? Haibane Renmei risks boring and alienating some in the hopes of burrowing more deeply into the hearts of those who appreciate it. By courting a minority audience, it aspires to be a life-changing art; for me, it succeeds.
So: before clicking on the cut, consider yourself and whether you think your taste might be similar to mine. If there is any chance you might fall in love with this series, do not read what I have to say about it until you have seen it through to the end.
Really, think about it!
That said, here it is:
Reki's World/A Prayer/Epilogue
Blue moonlight on a cold winter night. Following the festival of the bells, the Haibane of Old Home are asleep, sprawled out together in the main room. No one has cleared the table or done the dishes, so the remains of the holiday feast are much in evidence. Everyone is asleep, except for Reki, who takes one last look before stepping out to her studio. She is going to fight her last battle with the dream that haunts and defines her, and she has every expectation of losing. Sayonora, she says, closing the door. Goodbye.
Reki is one of the Haibane who lives in the town of Guri. What exactly are Haibane? What is this walled town which houses humans and Haibane alike, and which is almost completely cut off from the world? Answers to these questions are vague at best... throughout the anime we have followed the story of one "newborn" Haibane, a young girl who is given the name Rakka, and we know what Rakka knows. It's not much.
Still, there are some concrete facts: Haibane are people with grey wings (wings too puny for flight) and golden halos that need to be forged. They are not humans, although it is clear that they used to be, in "the outside world." Each one comes into the world of the town with only a dream to connect her to her former self, and is born from a large cocoon which shelters her in the earliest stages of her metamorphosis. Cocoons can only appear in "nests," which are places where humans used to live and work but which have long been abandoned: in the town of Guri, Old Home is one of them.
Haibane come into the world with no personal memories; they cannot even recall their old names. Furthermore, they have been cut off from that former world completely; as Reki tells Rakka early on, just as the Haibane have forgotten all their memories of the other world, the other world has forgotten all about them. The series begins with the dream that Rakka has in the cocoon, falling upside down high in the sky. A bird tries to save her, but of course is too small to do anything effectual, and Rakka falls into the town of Guri, and into her cocoon. Her name, Rakka, means falling; all Haibane are named after something from their dream. This is all she has left of the person she used to be.
When Rakka emerges from the cocoon, it takes a day before her wings emerge, and it's like cutting teeth... the wings break from her back in the midst of a delerious fever, and with a lot of pain. This all happens before she gets a chance to learn anything substantial, but even after she recovers (and obtains her pasted-on halo) she has questions which will never be answered. Early on Rakka feels lonely for her lost memories and former self, but very soon gets caught up in the gentle routines of the town.
The town is a place outside of time. It's a lot like a old European city; they have no modern books, no television, no cars... but it's not a place that is simply mired in the past, because things like motorcycles, modern cigarettes, CD walkmans all exist. Nothing is allowed into the town which gives clues as to the nature of the outside world, no maps or histories, but the gatekeepers of the town (the Toga) do bring in things that are deemed to be harmless.
Anyone who has read Haruki Murakami's Hardboiled Wonderland and The End of the World will recognize both the town and the significance of it. In Murakami's novel, the main character's consciousness is divided along two completely unrelated tracks, and by hypnotizing himself he is able to switch between the worlds. Anyone who has read Murakami in general knows that this is a popular theme with him... in fact, one he obsesses over... the idea that people can lose both themselves or other people through a metaphysical slipping of self away from the world as it is, into another more "interior" world: the world of the soul.
Haibane Renmei is an interesting riff on this idea, because unlike Murakami's work in Hardboiled Wonderland, this world cannot simply be an alternate consciousness that exists only in the mind of one individual, because each Haibane is clearly a separate individual who also has an existence in the outside world. Raka, Nemu, Kana, Kuu, Hikari: these are not just figments of Rakka's imagination, these are real people who exist outside of herself. The town of Guri is not just Rakka's dream. It seems to be a real place, although one that exists out of step with time and our world, and Murakami's later work Kafka on the Shore presents a similar world, but since it was not published until well after Haibane Renmei was produced, it could not have existed as an influence. Instead, Haibane Renmei is Yoshitoshi ABe's unique elaboration of Murakami's earlier work.
I do not think it is insignificant that ABe is primarily an artist. As I've discussed with cryogenia in chat (a long time ago!), there seems to be a fundamental difference in how artists and writers conceive both story and character. As someone who has straddled the divide (I was an artist before I was a writer, although I never developed my artistic skills nearly so well), I am fairly well equipped to articulate some of these differences. In my readings on Nabokov's lectures on literature, he mentioned that with art, it is possible to appreciate the entire work of art as a whole, and although it might take some time to really let it all "sink it," it's all there in front of your eyes in one flash. With novels, this sort of understanding can only come with familiarity: you need to read a book over and over again before you "see" the whole picture the way you can in an instant with a work of art. In some ways, this makes understanding novels easier... all it takes is the discipline of reading a book over and over again to see, but with art it is possible to look at a piece of art and never really see it with that deep understanding: art appreciation at this deep level is actually a very difficult skill to acquire, because it means radically mastering one's processing of vision.
Artists are a lot more used to telling story by implication. Entire Wagnerian-sagas of emotion need to be portrayed. The exact position of a wrist, the exactly gauged limpidy of gaze combined with a stony stiffness to indicate (for example) duplicity: in writing, these things can be so much more easily rendered through dialogue and events. And yet, with art even though you have to struggle so hard to get it right, you leave less for the observer to do at the outset: you look, you see. Reading is a process and takes time. It is understood that if you sit and think about what a book says for long enough, eventually most of what is important in it will come to you.
It is possible to look at a piece of artwork your whole life and never understand a thing about it, if you never really allow yourself to "see." It's a lot harder to read and read and read a book and miss the point so thoroughly, because reading is a task that demands comprehension whereas sight merely invites it.
In the end, the work for understanding art is hard. A truly good piece of art has a hidden hook, an invisible door which takes time and patience to appreciate.
Haibane Renmei has this kind of hook.
What happens in this episode that I love so much is very simple. It can be told in a single paragraph, or maybe two: Reki has run out of time. She retreats to her sanctuary which is also her prison, the room inside her room. This is where she tries to paint the vision of the dream she cannot remember. Understanding her dream is seen as the key to understanding herself. Rakka, who is her friend and who has been trying to help her, brings a little box which contains Reki's "true name" to her. In the box she learns that her name Reki, which she has thought of as meaning small stones, also has the meaning to tear asunder.
Reki remembers her dream at last. And her dream is likely her last memory of her life in the other world. She dreams about a train track, and a blood-red moon, and she realizes that the train track is where she threw her life away and was "torn asunder." This causes her to give up hope; she realizes she has been worthless from the beginning, that salvation was something that could never come to someone as selfish as she is. So she turns Rakka away, saying cruel things in a ploy to get Rakka to leave. Rakka does leave the inner room, but outside in the place where Reki sleeps she finds Reki's art and her journal, and realizes that Reki had been with her from the beginning, and truly cared about her, no matter what she said. So Rakka returns to Reki, and in a moment of drama saves her just as a ghost train is about to kill Reki's hope and take her forever. Saved, Reki takes on the last and final meaning of her name, which is to be a stepping stone for the weak. From here she finally is able to "leave the nest" and achieve the Day of Flight.
I have watched this series many times. In particular, I have watched this episode many, many times. And each time, I learn something new.
First and most importantly, I identify completely with Reki. She is me and I am her; I've had this sort of feeling with fictional characters from books and film before, but never to this extent. I do not feel comfortable going too deeply into the concrete and personal reasons for why this is, but whenever I want to have someone understand my inner self, whenever I want someone to truly understand me, and when I am feeling inarticulate and awkward and it is difficult for me to be open, all I need to do is tell that person "watch Haibane Renmei; it will tell you everything you need to know."
Simplistic, perhaps, to allow the entirety of my being to be summarizes so neatly.
If you imagine life to be like art, however, you can capture the sum of one person in one glance... and still be learning things for the rest of your life.
Now, I'm not trying to say I'm a piece of art (although I am a piece of work, sometimes). But I want you to understand that when I say "Haibane Renmei tells you everything you need to know about me" I truly mean it. Not because I think of myself as being so particularly uncomplicated, but because I think that for me, Haibane Renmei achieves something grand. It has meaning that grows with time. And I'm convinced that somewhere inside of it is my secret hook, the hidden door which will take me where I need to go.
This is what Haibane Renmei means to me. This is why it is my favourite.
(*) excepting anax, who could not get beyond four episodes and refuses to watch any more on the principle that HR is "so not my thing" (and he's right, it's not).