Category Archives: Discussion

Blaming the Victim

Discussion,

As he walked along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.”
— John 9 1:3

I wrote about this briefly in last week’s Penguindrum post: Kanba, Himari and Shouma believe they deserve to be punished for their parents’ sins. Himari deserves to get sick and die. It’s a punishment which she earned through the accident of birth. Before, I only mentioned how this idea is nothing new. People have been bigots for over two thousand years. Can’t say I’m surprised.

Roghek wrote a response today to my comments, elaborating on the biblical treatment of inheritance of the parent’s sins.  It helped me to get my own thoughts in order, and made me realize what I had wanted to say before.

The thing is, I made this idea of blaming the children sound like it’s a problem of the past. People in biblical times were jerks who blamed children for being blind. Penguindrum is just a work of fiction: no one would blame Himari in real life. Right?

Continue reading Blaming the Victim →

Mathematical Proof that Yuri is a Realm of Endless Possibilities

Discussion,

Well, exponentially greater possibilities, at least.

One of the great things about yuri (or yaoi, or, even better, bisexual characters) is that the number of possible shippings increases exponentially more with the number of characters. Let’s look at why yuri is awesome and learn a bit of graph theory while we’re at it!

First of all, how do we define a “shipping”? Generally, the term refers to a single couple: for example, I have been shipping Ringo and Shouma in Mawaru Penguindrum. However, people can ship multiple couples in a single show: for our purposes, we’ll refer to this set of pairings as a single shipping. To simplify things, we’ll assume that every character is matched to a single partner. So no threesomes or harem end.

Love Graphs

To count how many possible pairings a show has, we’re going to construct a “love graph.” Let’s start with the basics: what is a graph? The graph G = (V, E) is a set of vertices V and a set of edges E. An edge links two vertices in the graph. So in the love graph, each character is a vertex, and edges represent possible romantic links. So (a subgraph of) the love graph for Kimikiss would look like this:

We have the love triangle surrounding Kazuki, Kouichi’s love triangle, and Eiji as Kouichi’s rival for Mai. Note that the graph is bipartite: we can divide the vertices into two sets, such that all edges in the graph cross from one set to the other, simply by picking a set of boys and a set of girls. The pairings in Kimikiss are all straight.

The number of possible shippings, then, is the number of matchings on the love graph. A matching is simply a set of edges which share no common vertex— a set of couples where nobody is two-timing.

Of course, the pairings shown on the above graph are only the ones that the show itself encourages. What if we think that Sakino and Sanada make the perfect couple? Nothing wrong with that (except that Sanada is an asshole for choosing Mai and deserves to die alone and unloved). So the graph we would consider for Kimikiss in counting the number of possible shippings has edges between every pair of characters of the opposite sex. If we permit bisexual pairings, then the love graph becomes complete: there is an edge from every character to every other character in the graph.

Harems

Your typical harem has a single male character of consequence, and n females who are interested in him. How would this love graph look?

It would also be bipartite: the male character is linked to every female character, and there are no links between the female characters. If the graph has n females, then, the love graph has n possible matchings, and there are n possible shippings. Note that no perfect matching exists in the harem love graph: n-1 females must die alone and unloved. This is their lot, and we shall shed no tears for them.

Heterosexual Romance

Now let’s consider shows like Kimikiss and ef, where we have a similar number of males and females. Assume there are n characters, with an equal number of males and females. In this case, a perfect matching exists: to simplify things, we’ll count only the number of perfect matchings, where every character is part of a couple. Once again, the love graph is bipartite, with two fully interconnected vertex sets of size \frac{n}{2}. There are \left(\frac{n}{2}\right)! such pairings. (To see this, we have \frac{n}{2} females to match the first male to, \frac{n}{2} - 1 females to match the second male to, etc. )

Yuri / Yaoi / Bisexual

Next, consider a yuri / yaoi / bisexual show such as Yuruyuri or Simoun, with a cast of n characters, any two of which are a potential item. Now our love graph is complete: every character can form a couple with every other character. Once again, we’ll count the number of perfect matchings. Assuming n is even (which it must be for a perfect matching to exist) we can determine that the number of perfect matchings is \phi(n) = (n-1)(n-3)\cdots3 \cdot 1 using a similar argument to last time.

Conclusions

To summarize:

So, the number of characters being equal, a show where the genders are evenly distributed has \frac{1}{2}\left(\frac{n}{2}-1\right)! times as many perfect (well, for one gender) matchings as a standard harem . And yuri shows have

\frac{\phi(n)}{\left(\frac{n}{2}\right)!} = \frac{1}{\frac{n}{2}} \prod_{i=1}^{n/2 -1} \frac{2i+1}{i} \ge \frac{2}{n} \prod_{i=1}^{n/2-1} 2 = \frac{2}{n} 2^{n/2-1} = \frac{1}{n} 2^{n/2}

times as many possible perfect matchings as a heterosexual show.

So there we have it. Yuri is awesome, a realm of exponentially greater possibilities. Q.E.D.

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The Magic of Mawaru Penguindrum

Discussion, ,

I came across this passage the other day, and had to share it:

I believe in the practice and philosophy of what we have agreed to call magic, in what I must call the evocation of spirits, though I do not know what they are, in the power of creating magical illusions, in the visions of truth in the depths of the mind when the eyes are closed; and I believe in three doctrines, which have, as I think, been handed down from early times, and been the foundations of nearly all magical practices. These doctrines are—
(1) That the borders of our minds are ever shifting, and that many minds can flow into one another, as it were, and create or reveal a single mind, a single energy.

(2) That the borders of our memories are as shifting, and that our memories are a part of one great memory, the memory of Nature herself.

(3) That this great mind and great memory can be evoked by symbols.
— William Butler Yeats, Ideas of Good and Evil

It goes without saying that Mawaru Penguindrum is chock full of symbolism. The symbols are drawn from countless sources: some from Christian myth, some from Japanese folklore, some from the works of Murakami, and others directly from the mind of Ikuhara. Regardless of their source, symbols are powerful; indeed, magical. They link us with the cosmic mind and memory, and communicate ideas we may not even be consciously aware of.

This is part of the reason I enjoy watching Mawaru Penguindrum so much. The symbols add a depth to the show which we may not even fully understand with our waking minds. Interpreting symbols is a mystic art, dependent on leaps of faith and flashes of insight.

That’s why when I write about Penguindrum, I tend not to focus on what happened in the episode, but on symbols. The symbols may actually tell us more than the words and actions of the characters.

Agree? Disagree? Have some crazy idea about what something symbolizes in Penguindrum? Then I want to hear it. Feel free to share below.

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Into the Leijiverse: Space Battleship Yamato First Impressions

Discussion,

Before yesterday, I had never watched or read a single work by Leiji Matsumoto. Inspired by Animekritik‘s obsession with all things Leiji, I decided that this needed to be corrected. So far, I’ve watched the first five episodes of Space Battleship Yamato, and wanted to share my impressions.

Detailed, Diverse Ships

One of the first things I noticed in Space Battleship Yamato is the amazing diversity of ships and vehicles of all kinds, lovingly crafted in intricate detail, and chock full of dials, gauges and levers. These vehicles aren’t particularly original: take the titular battleship Yamato, which is a WWII era battleship literally plucked from its graveyard and dropped into outer space. The origins of the other ships are equally apparent: we have fighters, stealth bombers, transport planes, missiles, submarines and UFOs. But with their new setting and embellishments, the ships are all entrancing.

Even the non-combat vehicles are fascinating: we have cars that fly through tubes, vans, and short distance fliers which land on skis.

Plus, we have an awesome robot that can split into parts and is a convincing liar.

This raises an interesting question: Space Battleship Yamato was made almost 37 years ago, in 1974. And yet, the first five episodes had a more diverse assortment of vehicles than any show that’s come out in the past five years. What happened? Why are all ships the same now? Now all we seem to get are minor variations on the same Gundamesque humanoid mecha. I know some people follow mecha designs and even build models of them, but I honestly cannot see too much of a difference between different mecha.

Reminders of the Past

Despite being set in the future, Yamato conveys a strong sense of nostalgia. Part of this is that it actually was made a long time ago and the animation shows its age, but it also comes from the WWII era combat set in space. As one example, take the opening battle. It resembles an 18th century naval engagement, with the two opposing forces lining up and exchanging broadsides. It is a throwback to a day where warfare was straightforward and “honorable.”

We also have an encroaching extinction of humanity from nuclear fallout, and the titular Yamato, with part of the second episode even dedicated to telling the WWII battleship’s history. The show does seem poised to take a critical look at the sense of military pride and honor which led the Yamato to its final journey and helped pave the way to the war in the Pacific in the first place. For example, look at the farewell parade and the brother’s pointless death.

In my opinion, WWII has to be one of the most interesting eras in Japanese history. And yet it’s also the least explored in anime, perhaps due to a lingering sense of collective shame and desire to look the other way. The only recent shows I can think of that took place in this era are Senkou no Night Raid and Natsu no Arashi.

Spectacular Scoring

The music is great. As in, Simoun-level greatness. It fits together with the action, and the creators seem to have actually put a lot of effort into it. At the risk of sounding like a grumpy old man, anime nowadays do not seem to put much effort into the music at all, and it often ends up being some crappy J-pop. Of course, there are exceptions.

Imaginative Setting

Yamato’s is a universe of intergalactic proportions. We’ve only been to three planets so far, but each of them has been fascinating in a completely unique way. We have the Earth, which has been destroyed by radiation and is left barren. Then there’s a brief stopover in Mars, which is covered with snow. We also have Jupiter, which has a floating island in the sea of methane which is home to an awesome looking alien base.

Sheer Epicness

Space Battleship Yamato makes the conflict of Gurren Lagan seem petty. Humanity is going to become extinct in a year due to nuclear contamination, and the Yamato has one year to travel 148000 light years to retrieve the aptly named Cosmo Cleaner D which can save the planet. After each episode, a countdown shows how many days remain until the extinction of humanity.

Then there’s the fact that every time the Yamato warps, a slight error on the order of milliseconds on the part of the pilot will result not only in the destruction of the Yamato, but in the destruction of the entire universe. No pressure.

Conclusion

So far, I’m very impressed with Space Battleship Yamato and can see what all the fuss is about. I’m looking forward to continuing watching the show, and hopefully some other works by Leiji Matsumoto as well.

Battle Royale: Literary Masterpiece or Trashy Dime Novel?

Discussion,

For many years, I’d been hearing great things about Battle Royale. Everyone and their second cousin told me I just had to read it, and everyone who spoke of it did nothing but gush effusive praise. Last month, I was lounging around on a Saturday, and noticed that my housemate had left a copy of the book on the kitchen table. So I decided to finally take the plunge and read it.

I was hooked, and finished it in a single day. I enjoyed the book: it’s quite the page turner. But that’s pretty much all there is to it: it’s a thriller. Does it have any deeper meaning? Not particularly. Does the book have memorable, well-developed characters? No, they’re mostly cliché cardboard cutouts of each other. Is Battle Royale well-written? No, although I’ll be generous and blame part of this on an awkward translation. Is it as great as everyone let on? No. Is it the “Lord of the Flies for the 21st century,“ as the blurb on the rear cover proudly proclaims? Hell no. Battle Royale is to Lord of the Flies as the Davinci Code is to Foucault’s Pendulum.

It’s no Lord of the Flies

I wouldn’t think that the fact that Battle Royale is completely unlike Lord of the Flies would even bear mentioning, if the book jacket didn’t so obnoxiously proclaim it was and if so many people didn’t seem to believe it (just take a quick glance at the Amazon reviews page for Battle Royale – 111 / 167 reviews are five stars at the moment, with half of them seeming to think it’s better than Lord of the Flies). The main commonalities between the two works are superficial: children travel to an abandoned island and a breakdown of normal civilization occurs.

First of all, the conflict in Battle Royale comes across as black and white. The children (except for the few that enjoy killing their classmates) are the good guys and the organizers of the game are the bad guys. It’s the bad guys that are ultimately responsible for everyone’s deaths. There’s never any doubt of this. In Lord of the Flies, there are no organizers forcing the children to kill each other. They have absolutely no excuse for killing Piggy: it doesn’t even particularly benefit them to do so.

Battle Royale had to invent a boogeyman out of the autocratic government of Japan (which, I should point out, doesn’t appear to even have the tacit support of its citizenry as in most dystopian works).  In Lord of the Flies, the boogeyman comes from within innocent children, making it a much more stark and relevant commentary on humanity. One of the most haunting images of the book is when the Royal Navy ship, outfitted for war, appears on the horizon to bring the children back to the cradle of “civilization.” Battle Royale, on the other hand, is a simplistic, stark battle between good and evil, with clearly defined villains— the government and Kazuo.

Repetitive Story Arcs

After a while into the “game”, you can pretty much tell how the rest of the chapters involving the side characters are going to go. Here’s an outline.

  1. Two characters randomly meet up. They had some relationship before they were thrown on the island: either lovers, friends, or one-sided admiration, typically.
  2. They each fret over whether the other one is going to kill them or not.
  3. Someone dies. Possible causes:
    1. Intentional backstabbing.
    2. Accidental backstabbing due to confusion.
    3. Lover’s suicide.
    4. They reconcile and swear their eternal love / friendship, only to have someone else jump out of the bushes and kill them both. They die in each other’s arms.
  4. Repeat ad nauseum.

So the story is rather formulaic. There are a few more interesting segments: the introduction, the very end, and the short subplot involving Shinji’s attempts to sabotage the game, at least until he runs into Option D.

Still, the arc format would have some potential, if it weren’t for…

Formulaic Characters

All of the side characters are defined entirely by one or a combination of the following traits: membership in a school club, a tragic past, or a lover. None of them really get much depth. They don’t stick around long either, so from what I can tell, the only reason for any of them to even exist in the story is so that they can die a tragic death. Of course, the fact that their development is so shallow makes their deaths all the less tragic. For the most part, I couldn’t care less. And once again, the repetitive story format made me care even less about each individual death.

The main characters are also not too interesting. The male lead, Shuyo, is your standard loser harem protagonist, with the twist that he likes rock music, which the autocratic government frowns on it. This serves as an excuse for the author to add misplaced Bruce Springsteen references (more on this later). To continue our analogy, Noriko, the lead female, is the girl in the harem with the personality of a wet sponge that the male lead inevitably picks. She is quiet, and spends most of the novel asleep or injured. She is the sweet and innocent princess that our manly lead must protect.

Next is Shogo. Like many of the side characters, he also suffers from tragic past syndrome. He is on a quest for vengeance, and pursues this coolly and efficiently. The biggest issue I have with him and the other lead characters is that they just feel so fake. Shuyo is boring, Noriko is an angel, and Shogo is a cool, suave machine who always knows what to do and executes things perfectly.

Finally, we come to our villain Kazuo. He is simply the devil incarnate, with no positive traits to speak of. There is some half-hearted attempt to blame this on a birth defect. Not exactly the most compelling villain. The characters are, to be frank, simply not particularly interesting.

Subtlety and Depth

A big thing which bothered me is just how subtle this book is. For example, there are some obvious Orwellian influences surrounding the setup of the dictatorship. But instead of showing us the TVs that can’t be turned off, that we have always been at war with Eurasia, and that everyone loves Big Brother, the author just decides to have Shuyo tell us everything in a huge info dump. Not exactly the best storytelling there. As another example, each of the characters is introduced through narration rather than through action or dialogue. The author didn’t get the memo on “show, not tell.”

The author also likes to make references to Bruce Springsteen’s rock and roll, which is all about rebelliousness (?). The book ends with a quote from the lyrics of Born to Run, as Shuyo and Noriko quite literally run away from the police.

Baby this town rips the bones from your back
Its a death trap, it’s a suicide rap
We gotta get out while were young
`Cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run

The novel refers to Springsteen’s song in the literal sense of running away and the figurative sense of fleeing from a physical death. To make an analogy, this would be like Murakami writing a novel about Norwegian lumberjacks.

Conclusion

Battle Royale was an entertaining book, but it certainly wasn’t “the Lord of the Flies for the 21st Century.” I highly doubt that most people will have heard of it fifty years from now.

What were your thoughts on Battle Royale? Am I an elitist prick? Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments below!