Analyzing "Shiki's" women: Episodes 1-6
Now that I've started to tackle the verbal dysentery that is "The Giver" over at Das Sporking, I though I'd wash it out of my mind with my own thoughts on "Shiki," and how its women are far more awesome than that misogynist atrocity could ever give them credit for.
Note that these will not be episode summaries, but rather commentary on a few very specific things.
DISCLAIMER: I will be speaking of a lot of really disturbing things and a lot of gender stereotypes in a very flippant tone. I’m not trying to dismiss them as not a big deal or accept them as natural, it’s just how I analyze things. If I talk about a gender stereotype as though I’m taking it for granted, it’s just convenient shorthand for how I think it’s meant to be conveyed to the audience-it’s not because I necessarily agree with it.
Oh, and this should be obvious, but thar be spoilers.
Episode 1:
So, episode 1 of “Shiki” follows a bratty young teenage girl named Megumi, who has shocking-pink hair and wears fashionable, faintly gothy clothing much of which is also a bit on the revealing side. She’s lived in Sotoba Village her whole life, but she doesn’t like it there-she’d rather go live in a city. She also doesn’t get along with the other villagers, who think she’s strange. The only person she really cares about is Natsuno, a boy who moved to Sotoba from the city; and she dreams of living in the large mansion on Kanemasa land above the village, which, unbeknownst to her, is home to the vampires.
Megumi has two main friends in this village (though she treats them like crap): fourteen-year-old Kaori and her twelve-year-old brother Akira. For our purposes, Kaori’s the one we’ll be focusing on. Megumi and Kaori are clearly presented as foils: Megumi is flashy and impetuous while Kaori is much calmer, quieter, and plainer-looking, with brown hair. Kaori is perfectly content to be a part of the village community, so she’s quickly set up as the “good girl” to Megumi’s “bad girl.”
Now, it’d be easy for me to say that Megumi’s fondness for fashionable and revealing clothing (and her crush on Natsuno) causes her to stand out for being a “slut,” “whore,” or whatever; but I think that while this may be true (at least in-universe), it’s only part of the story. Let’s talk about Kaori again for a moment. Kaori doesn’t wear revealing clothing; but I think it’s more telling that she doesn’t wear feminine clothing much either (or at least not overtly feminine clothing). In fact, to my memory the only dress she ever wears is her school uniform-the rest of the time she’s in shorts (or, later, pants). She is the tomboy to Megumi’s girly girl.
Anyway, Megumi develops an affinity for the vampires’ mansion almost immediately, and she eventually wanders up to the house, where she gets bitten by vampires (to be specific, a seductive, blonde female vampire named Chizuru, who had previously appeared in town, where Kaori saw her) and eventually gets sick and dies as a result.
One other scene in this episode deserves mention: there’s a bit where a restaurant owner named Kanami, and her mother, are woken up in the night by Tatsumi, the werewolf servant of the Kirishiki vampire family, who asks for directions. Their exchange is pretty amusing, since Tatsumi asks directions to Sotoba despite already being there, and when Kanami snarkily points this out to him he gets flustered and embarrassed. I’m not sure what to make of this scene yet; but I figured it was worth noting nonetheless.
Episode 2
Episode 2 begins with Megumi’s funeral. Kaori is reasonably distraught over Megumi’s death, because the two were friends as children. She spends some time musing about her own death (hehe) and when she offers to have Megumi’s birthday present buried with her, Seishin, the monk presiding over her burial, lets her. She also offers a love letter Megumi wrote to Natsuno, but he refuses, claiming he was never that close to her.
We also get to see more of the village. Some villagers die, but they’re both men and women and I don’t think we need to call attention to them particularly. Early on in the episode we meet Ritsuko the nurse, a sweet young woman who tries to befriend Natsuno. Natsuno asks her why she doesn’t leave town, but Ritsuko explains that she likes living there with her mother and sister.
I know I said I wasn’t going to discuss the “Shiki” men, but I just have to call attention to Dr. Toshio Ozaki, and his monk friend Seishin Muroi. Much as Megumi and Kaori were a girly girl and a tomboy, respectively, Toshio Ozaki and Seishin fall at opposite ends of the masculinity scale as well: Toshio Ozaki has stubble, messy brown hair, smokes, and is generally cold and logical; he’s also got a deep, booming voice courtesy of David Wald. Meanwhile, Seishin is much more delicate-looking, with larger eyes, silvery hair, and a softer voice (provided by John Burgmeier). Seishin also writes novels about death.
In other news, a young mother named Nao Yasumori falls ill, and her husband is worried about her.
This is also around the time Natsuno starts to be spooked by what he will soon discover is undead Megumi.
Episode 3
Fuck, I’d forgotten just how much “Shiki” can pack into just one episode!
So, one of the highlights of this story is seeing some of the creepier members of the cast, including a young-looking vampire named Sunako, who comes to visit Seishin, the feminine-looking monk, and talks up his books. Sunako calls attention to the fact that Seishin likes to write about those who have been “forsaken,” and she also notes that he has a scar on his wrist from a time when he tried to commit suicide. More on this down the road.
We later get a scene that reveals that Ritsuko the nurse is teaching a young man named Toru, who is also Natsuno’s friend, how to drive. Toru also has a friend named Masao. I bring these guys up only to note that once again we see guys at different points on the masculinity scale: Natsuno, although he’s a bishounen of a sort, is the manliest of the three: he has a stoic, rational, cynical outlook on life and he’s voiced by Jerry Jewell, who’s known for playing characters who are rough around the edges. On the other end of the scale is Masao, who is an emo teenager voiced by Todd Haberkorn, who’s known for his high, rasping voice and often gets cast as very young or feminine males; and is so feminine looking he gets mistaken for a girl (by the fans, anyway). Toru falls somewhere in the middle, as he looks more masculine than Masao does and has a traditionally manly nice-guy disposition; but he’s also nurturing and gentle, particularly toward his siblings and Natsuno.
Speaking of Masao, we also get to meet his family in this episode. Near as we can tell, he has only two living female relatives: his sister-in-law Chizuko and her daughter Chika (who never says or does anything ever…). To all intents and purposes, Chizuko is surrounded by men. She seems comfortable with this, though, despite her outwardly feminine appearance. There is a flashback in which Chizuko and a younger Masao talk, and Masao antagonizes Chizuko by saying that he knows she will hate him. We’ll be getting back to this a little later.
This is also the episode where we learn a bit more about the Yasumori family. Nao, who was introduced as a patient in Episode 2, dies in this episode. But I’m more interested in the flashback scene we get of her interacting with her family and two Kirishikis: Seishirou and Chizuru. Nao, to all intents and purposes, appears to be a happy housewife in this scene. She has an adorable husband and son, whom she’s having a good time with. We also meet a relative of hers named Junko Yasumori, though she’s not introduced as such just yet. Again we get a setup in which the two women at least appear to be a tomboy and a girly girl: Junko is rather portly and has very short hair, while Nao is curvier with long dark-blue hair. Nao’s hair, I think, deserves some mention because it’s perfectly groomed, with bangs parted in only one place and locks that perfectly frame her face. It looks sort of like the haircut traditionally associated with Japanese royalty, which at least in anime is common in traditionalist housewives.
Rrrrriiiiight.
Episode 4
In this episode, we see that Nao’s son is dying, and her husband has fallen ill. We won’t realize the significance of this until later, however. Word of all the mysterious deaths reaches Kaori and Akira, and while Akira is excited to learn that Sotoba’s being put on the map, Kaori is deeply distressed, and begins to cry, as women in these sorts of stories inevitably do. Can’t say I think there’s any misogyny at work here, though-it’s understandable that she’s upset. Actually, Akira’s the one who turns out to be wrong genre savvy. But that comes later.
Later on, Sunako goes to visit Seishin, and he lets her into an old, abandoned (desecrated?) church, where Sunako chats with him for a bit about martyrs. Sunako mentions at one point that she and her mother have a “skin condition” that prevents them from going out in the sun-which, in a roundabout way, suggests that the Kirishiki women are vampires but not the Kirishiki men. We’ll be revisiting this a little later. Anyway, Sunako gives a rather famous (in the fandom) speech about how death is both impartial (which is so totally appropriate for this series I just can’t) and terrible no matter who it affects, since all your traits that make you who you are matter only when you’re alive. Sure. Seishin also cautions her by saying that it’s dangerous for a young girl to go out in the woods at night, to which Sunako replies that she has “only half as much freedom as everybody else” (quoting from memory). Given that the entire point of my doing this was to analyze “Shiki’s” gender politics, I’m going to take the bait and say that this may have something to do with women’s having fewer overall freedoms than men-only in this case it’s the reverse of what we tend to think of. In real life, women are told not to go out alone at night because they might get raped or murdered, whereas Sunako, a vampire, cannot go out during the day lest she burn to death (crucially, her “mother” Chizuru can’t either-but both Seishirou and Tatsumi can).
Oh yeah, and Megumi comes into Toru’s house (where Natsuno is sleeping over) because Toru invited Tatsumi over last episode. She acts indignant that Natsuno spent more time and attention on Toru than her (more on this later), and then she bites Toru. Or does she? The next thing we know, Natsuno wakes up in a shock, and reasons that it was just a dream.
This is ALSO the episode where Toshio Ozaki calls his nursing staff to a meeting, which means we get to meet all his nurses, not just the most prominent ones, Ritsuko and Yasuyo. The other three of much real importance are named Kiyomi, Yuki, and Satoko. So they, along with the male hospital staff and Toshio Ozaki himself, try to brainstorm what could be wrong with their patients and throw out various possibilities. The nurses, for the record, are awesome. It’s a little early to explain just how or why, but they are.
Episode 5
This episode…actually has very little focus on the women at all, but I’ll see what I can do. At their high school, Toru’s sister Aoi lets slip that Toru isn’t coming to school anymore, but is lounging in his room all day playing video games. Then, before they can do anything sensible, he’s dead.
Megumi had also sent Natsuno a love letter awhile back, which Natsuno tears up and throws away.
This episode also presents the only appearance of Chizuko’s daughter, Chika, in the entire story. She’s never introduced as such, doesn’t get any lines, and has no real role to play, to the point many fans who haven’t read the manga don’t even acknowledge her existence (her role does seem to be bigger in the manga). But the fact that she manages to fly under the radar, and Masao never complains about her directly (despite his almost constant complaining about everything else under the sun), suggests that he’s more willing to tolerate her than his nephew Hiromi-at least in the anime. Oh, yeah-and Chizuko is worried because Hiromi has fallen ill.
Episode 6
So this episode begins with Megumi picking up the ripped pieces of the love letter she left for Natsuno, and crying because he doesn’t like her. This is our second major clue that the vampires retain their original personalities.
Meanwhile, back at the Murasakos’, Chizuko is distraught over the death of her son Hiromi. The family members neglect to notice that Masao is dying up in his room too, because he’s a disgusting, repulsive monster who’s better off out of the house.
In other news, Dr. Toshio Ozaki has a new patient, and he snaps at the patient’s wife when she mentions trying to treat him with a home remedy rather than taking him to the doctor. See, she was wrong to think that feminine home remedies could cure anything-only in the manly discipline of science can an answer be found.
Incidentally, that sort of reasoning pretty much informs Dr. Toshio Ozaki’s behavior for the lion’s share of this episode. He lashes out at Seishin when he (Seishin) informs him that people are moving away, because he hasn’t been “checking the color of people’s faces”-that is, conducting actual (manly, scientific) research. He gets it from his father, the late Dr. Ozaki, apparently.
Anyway, later Sunako visits Seishin again, and offers him a copy of his book to sign. There’s a very important scene in which Sunako stands with her hand on top of Seishin’s bowed head, but I’m not sure what to make of it just yet.
Later, Toshio Ozaki is on the case of a new patient, Etsuko, who is evincing disease symptoms, including the telltale bite marks. She’s the first person to receive a blood transfusion to combat her anemia, and it seems to work. She dies eventually, though.
The episode ends with Kaori and Akira spying on Kanemasa Mansion. Akira knows something is up because he saw Yasuyuki, a former lumber yard worker who’s supposed to be dead, entering the house. Kaori doesn’t want to get involved, instead suggesting they inform the adults; but Akira, brandishing a baseball bat, insists that the adults won’t believe them and that they have to do this on their own.
Note that these will not be episode summaries, but rather commentary on a few very specific things.
DISCLAIMER: I will be speaking of a lot of really disturbing things and a lot of gender stereotypes in a very flippant tone. I’m not trying to dismiss them as not a big deal or accept them as natural, it’s just how I analyze things. If I talk about a gender stereotype as though I’m taking it for granted, it’s just convenient shorthand for how I think it’s meant to be conveyed to the audience-it’s not because I necessarily agree with it.
Oh, and this should be obvious, but thar be spoilers.
Episode 1:
So, episode 1 of “Shiki” follows a bratty young teenage girl named Megumi, who has shocking-pink hair and wears fashionable, faintly gothy clothing much of which is also a bit on the revealing side. She’s lived in Sotoba Village her whole life, but she doesn’t like it there-she’d rather go live in a city. She also doesn’t get along with the other villagers, who think she’s strange. The only person she really cares about is Natsuno, a boy who moved to Sotoba from the city; and she dreams of living in the large mansion on Kanemasa land above the village, which, unbeknownst to her, is home to the vampires.
Megumi has two main friends in this village (though she treats them like crap): fourteen-year-old Kaori and her twelve-year-old brother Akira. For our purposes, Kaori’s the one we’ll be focusing on. Megumi and Kaori are clearly presented as foils: Megumi is flashy and impetuous while Kaori is much calmer, quieter, and plainer-looking, with brown hair. Kaori is perfectly content to be a part of the village community, so she’s quickly set up as the “good girl” to Megumi’s “bad girl.”
Now, it’d be easy for me to say that Megumi’s fondness for fashionable and revealing clothing (and her crush on Natsuno) causes her to stand out for being a “slut,” “whore,” or whatever; but I think that while this may be true (at least in-universe), it’s only part of the story. Let’s talk about Kaori again for a moment. Kaori doesn’t wear revealing clothing; but I think it’s more telling that she doesn’t wear feminine clothing much either (or at least not overtly feminine clothing). In fact, to my memory the only dress she ever wears is her school uniform-the rest of the time she’s in shorts (or, later, pants). She is the tomboy to Megumi’s girly girl.
Anyway, Megumi develops an affinity for the vampires’ mansion almost immediately, and she eventually wanders up to the house, where she gets bitten by vampires (to be specific, a seductive, blonde female vampire named Chizuru, who had previously appeared in town, where Kaori saw her) and eventually gets sick and dies as a result.
One other scene in this episode deserves mention: there’s a bit where a restaurant owner named Kanami, and her mother, are woken up in the night by Tatsumi, the werewolf servant of the Kirishiki vampire family, who asks for directions. Their exchange is pretty amusing, since Tatsumi asks directions to Sotoba despite already being there, and when Kanami snarkily points this out to him he gets flustered and embarrassed. I’m not sure what to make of this scene yet; but I figured it was worth noting nonetheless.
Episode 2
Episode 2 begins with Megumi’s funeral. Kaori is reasonably distraught over Megumi’s death, because the two were friends as children. She spends some time musing about her own death (hehe) and when she offers to have Megumi’s birthday present buried with her, Seishin, the monk presiding over her burial, lets her. She also offers a love letter Megumi wrote to Natsuno, but he refuses, claiming he was never that close to her.
We also get to see more of the village. Some villagers die, but they’re both men and women and I don’t think we need to call attention to them particularly. Early on in the episode we meet Ritsuko the nurse, a sweet young woman who tries to befriend Natsuno. Natsuno asks her why she doesn’t leave town, but Ritsuko explains that she likes living there with her mother and sister.
I know I said I wasn’t going to discuss the “Shiki” men, but I just have to call attention to Dr. Toshio Ozaki, and his monk friend Seishin Muroi. Much as Megumi and Kaori were a girly girl and a tomboy, respectively, Toshio Ozaki and Seishin fall at opposite ends of the masculinity scale as well: Toshio Ozaki has stubble, messy brown hair, smokes, and is generally cold and logical; he’s also got a deep, booming voice courtesy of David Wald. Meanwhile, Seishin is much more delicate-looking, with larger eyes, silvery hair, and a softer voice (provided by John Burgmeier). Seishin also writes novels about death.
In other news, a young mother named Nao Yasumori falls ill, and her husband is worried about her.
This is also around the time Natsuno starts to be spooked by what he will soon discover is undead Megumi.
Episode 3
Fuck, I’d forgotten just how much “Shiki” can pack into just one episode!
So, one of the highlights of this story is seeing some of the creepier members of the cast, including a young-looking vampire named Sunako, who comes to visit Seishin, the feminine-looking monk, and talks up his books. Sunako calls attention to the fact that Seishin likes to write about those who have been “forsaken,” and she also notes that he has a scar on his wrist from a time when he tried to commit suicide. More on this down the road.
We later get a scene that reveals that Ritsuko the nurse is teaching a young man named Toru, who is also Natsuno’s friend, how to drive. Toru also has a friend named Masao. I bring these guys up only to note that once again we see guys at different points on the masculinity scale: Natsuno, although he’s a bishounen of a sort, is the manliest of the three: he has a stoic, rational, cynical outlook on life and he’s voiced by Jerry Jewell, who’s known for playing characters who are rough around the edges. On the other end of the scale is Masao, who is an emo teenager voiced by Todd Haberkorn, who’s known for his high, rasping voice and often gets cast as very young or feminine males; and is so feminine looking he gets mistaken for a girl (by the fans, anyway). Toru falls somewhere in the middle, as he looks more masculine than Masao does and has a traditionally manly nice-guy disposition; but he’s also nurturing and gentle, particularly toward his siblings and Natsuno.
Speaking of Masao, we also get to meet his family in this episode. Near as we can tell, he has only two living female relatives: his sister-in-law Chizuko and her daughter Chika (who never says or does anything ever…). To all intents and purposes, Chizuko is surrounded by men. She seems comfortable with this, though, despite her outwardly feminine appearance. There is a flashback in which Chizuko and a younger Masao talk, and Masao antagonizes Chizuko by saying that he knows she will hate him. We’ll be getting back to this a little later.
This is also the episode where we learn a bit more about the Yasumori family. Nao, who was introduced as a patient in Episode 2, dies in this episode. But I’m more interested in the flashback scene we get of her interacting with her family and two Kirishikis: Seishirou and Chizuru. Nao, to all intents and purposes, appears to be a happy housewife in this scene. She has an adorable husband and son, whom she’s having a good time with. We also meet a relative of hers named Junko Yasumori, though she’s not introduced as such just yet. Again we get a setup in which the two women at least appear to be a tomboy and a girly girl: Junko is rather portly and has very short hair, while Nao is curvier with long dark-blue hair. Nao’s hair, I think, deserves some mention because it’s perfectly groomed, with bangs parted in only one place and locks that perfectly frame her face. It looks sort of like the haircut traditionally associated with Japanese royalty, which at least in anime is common in traditionalist housewives.
Rrrrriiiiight.
Episode 4
In this episode, we see that Nao’s son is dying, and her husband has fallen ill. We won’t realize the significance of this until later, however. Word of all the mysterious deaths reaches Kaori and Akira, and while Akira is excited to learn that Sotoba’s being put on the map, Kaori is deeply distressed, and begins to cry, as women in these sorts of stories inevitably do. Can’t say I think there’s any misogyny at work here, though-it’s understandable that she’s upset. Actually, Akira’s the one who turns out to be wrong genre savvy. But that comes later.
Later on, Sunako goes to visit Seishin, and he lets her into an old, abandoned (desecrated?) church, where Sunako chats with him for a bit about martyrs. Sunako mentions at one point that she and her mother have a “skin condition” that prevents them from going out in the sun-which, in a roundabout way, suggests that the Kirishiki women are vampires but not the Kirishiki men. We’ll be revisiting this a little later. Anyway, Sunako gives a rather famous (in the fandom) speech about how death is both impartial (which is so totally appropriate for this series I just can’t) and terrible no matter who it affects, since all your traits that make you who you are matter only when you’re alive. Sure. Seishin also cautions her by saying that it’s dangerous for a young girl to go out in the woods at night, to which Sunako replies that she has “only half as much freedom as everybody else” (quoting from memory). Given that the entire point of my doing this was to analyze “Shiki’s” gender politics, I’m going to take the bait and say that this may have something to do with women’s having fewer overall freedoms than men-only in this case it’s the reverse of what we tend to think of. In real life, women are told not to go out alone at night because they might get raped or murdered, whereas Sunako, a vampire, cannot go out during the day lest she burn to death (crucially, her “mother” Chizuru can’t either-but both Seishirou and Tatsumi can).
Oh yeah, and Megumi comes into Toru’s house (where Natsuno is sleeping over) because Toru invited Tatsumi over last episode. She acts indignant that Natsuno spent more time and attention on Toru than her (more on this later), and then she bites Toru. Or does she? The next thing we know, Natsuno wakes up in a shock, and reasons that it was just a dream.
This is ALSO the episode where Toshio Ozaki calls his nursing staff to a meeting, which means we get to meet all his nurses, not just the most prominent ones, Ritsuko and Yasuyo. The other three of much real importance are named Kiyomi, Yuki, and Satoko. So they, along with the male hospital staff and Toshio Ozaki himself, try to brainstorm what could be wrong with their patients and throw out various possibilities. The nurses, for the record, are awesome. It’s a little early to explain just how or why, but they are.
Episode 5
This episode…actually has very little focus on the women at all, but I’ll see what I can do. At their high school, Toru’s sister Aoi lets slip that Toru isn’t coming to school anymore, but is lounging in his room all day playing video games. Then, before they can do anything sensible, he’s dead.
Megumi had also sent Natsuno a love letter awhile back, which Natsuno tears up and throws away.
This episode also presents the only appearance of Chizuko’s daughter, Chika, in the entire story. She’s never introduced as such, doesn’t get any lines, and has no real role to play, to the point many fans who haven’t read the manga don’t even acknowledge her existence (her role does seem to be bigger in the manga). But the fact that she manages to fly under the radar, and Masao never complains about her directly (despite his almost constant complaining about everything else under the sun), suggests that he’s more willing to tolerate her than his nephew Hiromi-at least in the anime. Oh, yeah-and Chizuko is worried because Hiromi has fallen ill.
Episode 6
So this episode begins with Megumi picking up the ripped pieces of the love letter she left for Natsuno, and crying because he doesn’t like her. This is our second major clue that the vampires retain their original personalities.
Meanwhile, back at the Murasakos’, Chizuko is distraught over the death of her son Hiromi. The family members neglect to notice that Masao is dying up in his room too, because he’s a disgusting, repulsive monster who’s better off out of the house.
In other news, Dr. Toshio Ozaki has a new patient, and he snaps at the patient’s wife when she mentions trying to treat him with a home remedy rather than taking him to the doctor. See, she was wrong to think that feminine home remedies could cure anything-only in the manly discipline of science can an answer be found.
Incidentally, that sort of reasoning pretty much informs Dr. Toshio Ozaki’s behavior for the lion’s share of this episode. He lashes out at Seishin when he (Seishin) informs him that people are moving away, because he hasn’t been “checking the color of people’s faces”-that is, conducting actual (manly, scientific) research. He gets it from his father, the late Dr. Ozaki, apparently.
Anyway, later Sunako visits Seishin again, and offers him a copy of his book to sign. There’s a very important scene in which Sunako stands with her hand on top of Seishin’s bowed head, but I’m not sure what to make of it just yet.
Later, Toshio Ozaki is on the case of a new patient, Etsuko, who is evincing disease symptoms, including the telltale bite marks. She’s the first person to receive a blood transfusion to combat her anemia, and it seems to work. She dies eventually, though.
The episode ends with Kaori and Akira spying on Kanemasa Mansion. Akira knows something is up because he saw Yasuyuki, a former lumber yard worker who’s supposed to be dead, entering the house. Kaori doesn’t want to get involved, instead suggesting they inform the adults; but Akira, brandishing a baseball bat, insists that the adults won’t believe them and that they have to do this on their own.