One of these had a happy ending (Gintama, Ikkoku Keisei: Review)
There's something about the tale of Ikkoku Keisei that feels as if it has been carved from fairy tales. It is probably trite, at this point, to compare any work of fiction to fairy tales, but look at the elements.
We have a princess locked in a tower.
And a prince determined to save her.
There's the evil emperor bound for hubris.
And the inevitable lover's flight.
So far so good, right? But this is the point where Keisei deconstructs the old formula of Happily Ever After, freezing the story on a wrong note for decades. The lover's flight is interrupted, the evil emperor retains his throne and the nation he rules suffers under his tyranny.
Maybe it's more right to call Ikkoku Keisei a deconstruction of fairy tales. I mean-
We have knights that rise from fools.
An outspoken little princess.
Ladies (and children) who save the day with their swords, words, and wit.
And a happy ending achieved not by individual heroism, but through collaboration.
Because as fierce as the five rebels are, Gintama is never about the heroics of the few, but the ability of a community-however divided, however different-to rise to their best when called upon.
The fIve rebels may not be able to take the country ruled by the Amanto all on their own, but combined with the noble will of a compassionate leader, helped by the alliance of two police forces that'd never see eye to eye on any other night, and strengthened by bonds formed over I-don't-know-how-many-volumes-at-this-point, it is all possible. Before the sun rises, a tyrant has been disposed, the political landscape has shifted, and an impossible happy ending is within reach.
And it all begins with a very reckless mission.
It's the idea in Gintama, at the heart of Yorozuya's adventures, that you, with all your small, insignificant power, can cause something big to happen by being the catalyst. That you can crush a large rock not through sheer force, but by pushing tiny rocks, which move larger rocks, creating a chain of motion beyond your projection. Which echoes the story of this man.
I wonder where, in traditional fairytales, would Shoyo-sensei be? After all, all he's done is teach sword and pen, in a small village, to a bunch of mostly commoner kids. Still, I like the idea that a person who probably sees himself as unremarkable, doing a noble but nonetheless very ordinary job, would set in motion, through his life and death, a great many good and terrible forces. All the people and things Gintoki's helped and saved, all the destruction Takasugi's wrought, the Joui force, all begin from this person. And all he did is provide a bunch of kids with some shelter and education.
And there's another deconstructed lore--the idea that your story ends with your death. It's never that simple, isn't it? Time will tell the consequences of Sadasada's pitiless end, but for now, the questions are...
What really matters-that good defeats evil? or that evil is defeated at all, by however force able to do so?
What is evil (or good) anyway, if they're all cut from the same cloth, the same beginnings?
All that aside, I'd like to think of Keisei as a mostly optimistic story. There's this message, central to the story, and to Gintama itself: a story that repeats itself doesn't have to end the same way. It's an important message because Gintoki, being the catalyst he is, will relive this story over, and over, and over again:
There's a man, who fights with his friends for the cause they all believe in.
And again, there's a man, older but much the same in all manners that matter, who fights with his friends for the cause they all believe in.
One of these stories had a happy ending.
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(All pics are personally screencapped /edited except for the Joui 4 one, which I took off google image. You might've seen some other pictures on the fuckyeahgintaladies blog, which I also run.)