Random Curiosity

“I’m Glad I Was Born Here”

「ここに生まれてよかった」 (Koko ni umarete yokatta)


As we accelerate towards the end, everything smashed into fragments, with the series was trying to cram as many loose ends as they could. Rather than attempt to half-heartedly deal with everything at once, which had the side effect of showcasing many flaws, I kind of wish they just focused on fewer things. This was a long time coming, but I shall now proceed to rattle about my gripes.
 

Revolution…?

 
Jebaited. That sums up how I felt, when the attempted revolution fell apart in a couple of seconds like a damp squib. If there’s one thing I absolutely detest, it would be intentionally misleading viewers by having Chakuro ominously narrate the end of the previous episode, when nothing was ever going to happen. This isn’t even misdirection, so much as plain deceit. Remember, never go all-in when your poker hand consists of literally nothing. Otherwise, you’ll end up with nothing left in the bank! Though it’s not like Kujira had anything to spare at this point anyway…

Last Look at the Empire

 
I never wanted to see Liontari again, so other than voicing the same old dissatisfaction, I don’t intend on pursuing that topic any further. Orca makes a final appearance, shedding some light on the sarx (Greek for Flesh), a speciality reserved for the upper class enabling the retention of emotions. As such, it immediately becomes apparent that the Empire’s society faces an endemic issue with corruption, starting from the very top. But because we’ve arrived at the end of our journey, this matter won’t be dealt with any further.

I’m not sure if I should be unhappy at never receiving closure, or whether I should be happy that there was no opportunity to mess this up as well. For someone who possessed the makings of a great anti-villain, it’s a real shame how Orka’s thought process is never properly explored. From what I can tell, he wanted to create a better world, where people won’t have to kill one another. A noble sentiment worthy of admiration, if not for the shallow circumstances of his character’s creation.

The Truth about Falaina

 
Suou reveals the truth to the Marked, about the reason behind their shortened lives. Some respond with anger, chucking rocks at him. But amidst the general despair, Ouni steps up to rally the Marked, urging them to respect the sacrifices made by those who died. Then everyone starts singing and dancing and holding hands, which should mean it’s gonna be a happy ending, right?

Epilogue:

Final Impressions

No, that was not a happy ending for me personally. If possible, I’d ask for a return on my time investment, since it could have been better spent on other things. For every promise that Kujira made, amounting to delusions of grandeur, it fell miserably short due to conceit. It had a fantastic fantasy setting, and gorgeous visuals to boot, so where did it all go wrong?

One of Kujira’s biggest weaknesses was an inability to adequately address death. In the final episode, Masoo died peacefully, and most of the characters were crying. However, I found it impossible to muster any sense of sadness myself, and it pretty much underlined a huge problem throughout the series. Dying became such a commonplace occurrence, that it became difficult to appreciate the sanctity of life. To top it off, this wasn’t even the first time I experienced such an extreme degree of apathy either. While attempts were made to bestow meaning through the cultural customs surrounding funerals, that just wasn’t enough. Despite being a nice idea, tradition simply cannot compensate for a lack of characterisation, which was sorely missing in our fictional setup.

Kujira no Kora wa Sajou ni Utau itself feels greatly inspired by literary works from classical civilisation, and I can see that it tries to take on their wonderful ideas. But these ideas clearly pose too much of a burden for the plot to withstand, conceptually speaking. And that ultimately came down to the root of our issues - the way in which our story was told. It’s no use having a great vision, if you do not have the means of bringing it about. We saw but a pitiful fraction of Kujira’s vast world. The pacing was all over the place, and the narrative flow was consistently interrupted by interesting yet half-baked ideas – our end product being a mess of unrealised potential. Not only did the plot severely suffer, we didn’t even get to know our protagonists that well! Lykos felt like a complete stranger to me, and when characters cannot be connected with even after a twelve episode run, that begs some serious questions. I think I speak for a lot of people, when I say that Ouni was the only character I liked!

Aye aye. I held out till the end in spite of the warning signs, because I hoped that the ship would eventually correct itself. Many people told me to pull out when there was still time left, but I foolishly ignored them, choosing to wait for the turnaround whilst embarking on a perilous voyage. Instead, our boat fully capsized, sinking alongside all the hopes and dreams that I had for this series. May a season two never grace our shores, amen.

Thanks for sticking with me. So long sailors, and see you on the other side!

 

「新しい旅に出るわ」 (Atarashii tabi ni deruwa)
“I’m Setting Off On A New Journey”

Pathway to the Afterlife

With the tide of battle ebbing away, the remains of a costly battle become rather evident. And it really touches me how so much compassion and deliberation goes into remembering the dead. Even while grieving for their friends, the Falainians gave time to commemorate lives lost by the very enemy that swore to destroy them. As they went about sending off caskets, I wondered if their prayers to guide lost souls would extend to comrades who fell on Skylos, forever sunken beneath the treacherous waves of sand.

Encounter with the Unknown

Following the conflict, I like how they set up a meeting between the Mud Whale and another civilisation. In my opinion, this interaction was long overdue, and brought a new perspective to the table. Although the Nous appeared to have been widespread throughout the world, countries exist that choose to rely on advancements in technology, as opposed to making sacrifices for the supernatural gifts that Thymia might bring. If anything, it seems that Thymia allows for a gap to be bridged, where a significant difference in strength would otherwise have existed – as seen when the foreign delegate was easily prevented from attempting to annex the Mud Whale. After Suou opted for a pacifist approach, the situation looks to have stabilised, and a distinct possibility even arises where alliances are concerned. But with ulterior motives remaining unexplored, pertaining to foreign expansionist policies, it’s hard to determine whether such an agreement would be sincere.

Concluding Thoughts

So it seems like Falaina was lacking an essential component required on any sea-worthy ship: a rudder. And as of now, there doesn’t seem to be any particular drawback either in regards to its functionality. My suspicions of the Kokalo being a sinister object were misplaced, and my doubts especially crumbled when it took on the form of an adorable creature, though it’s always possible that adverse effects may start showing up much later. Having finally received a means of navigating itself, we can perhaps expect a new turn in the Mud Whale’s mysterious journey through the world, which might not be as aimless as it initially seemed. Will the Kokalo be a catalyst for salvation, or the beginning of a descent into further damnation? With so few episodes remaining, it’s difficult to say whether such a question will ever be answered.

「夢の話だ」 (Yume no Hanashi da)
“It’s Just A Dream”

 The Trial

Franz Kafka might have been proud of the way in which the trial turned out. For starters, it was utterly absurd, to the point where it accurately rendered a stark depiction of the Empire’s dystopian society. Though its frivolous procession lacked self-awareness regarding its own nature, a necessary criteria for achieving the post-modernist form, it was bloody entertaining if not somewhat contradictory. Isn’t it ironic to watch seemingly emotionless people becoming swayed by Orka’s theatrical rhetoric? Of particular note was how he manipulated Araphne into shooting at him within the court room, before telling a cautionary tale of ‘daemons‘ to strike fear within the judiciary panel deciding his fate. By correctly playing all the cards, he saves his own life, as well as most of his own subordinates, while essentially keeping the title of Commander-in-Chief. To that end, I can only say that his feats demonstrate a remarkable competence rarely seen. With only one episode left and another issue taking up the forefront, I get the impression that this will be last time that we see the Empire in this series. A shame too, because Orka possesses the makings of an impressive villain, something that Kujira has sorely lacked for the duration of its run.

Origins of the Nous

I want to highlight the Greek etymology surrounding ‘The Rain of Katharterio‘, which literally translates to ‘Purgatorial Rain‘. Speaking in literary terms, the Purgatorio from Dante’s Divine Comedy was a mountain, representing seven levels tied with the deadly sins, in addition to Paradise, which sat at the peak. Dante characterised suffering and spiritual growth through overcoming these obstacles in order to reach the top, seeking to discuss the nature of sin, as well as outlining moral issues inherent to politics and religion. These immediately become relevant, where a beautiful attribution of purgatory becomes corrupted in light of the Empire’s actions. Though Dante’s poem outlined a theory that all sins arise from love, the Empire takes it to the other extreme, by using the Nous to construct an allegedly sinless world entirely devoid of emotions. In an obsession driven by a want for emptiness, they go about slaughtering as they please, wielding a divine right as a justification for their wrongdoings. This surely can’t be what the Nous wants either, considering what Olivines conveyed to Lykos through a vision.

To that end, I feel like Falaina strikes a central ground – encouraging the constraint of excessive emotions, as opposed to enforcing a whole-scale deprivation. Despite the Marked suffering a comparatively shorter lifespan, Falaina’s simple way of life can unpack a myriad of deeper meaning, one that even visitors are impressed by. We see it in the unique culture they have established over the course of a century, where their special customs and wonderful traditions indicate a greater purpose to their existence beyond mere exile.

Concluding Thoughts

There is much to suggest that the removal of emotions is an unrefined process, and I have an analogy in mind that could cover up some potential plot holes. Just like how zombies might exhibit traits of being alive, moving about searching for humans, they are most certainly ‘dead’. That is how I’ve come to view the Apathoia, as people who retain a bare semblance of emotions, that are for the most part inhibited. The extent of absent emotions probably has something to do with the frequency of visits made to a Nous, as Lykos has slowly gained the capacity to express her feelings, due to time spent away the Nous’ influence. This would help justify why citizens of the Empire are not entirely emotionless, and I feel like perhaps the term has been taken too literally by a good number of viewers, myself included.

We also learn that Failaina has alternate methods of generating power, but I won’t go into too much detail about how it consumes lifespans, because that actually should have been quite obvious. However, the social revolution this revelation may have instigated is a topic that’s definitely worth delving into. Though I’m quite peeved that they chose to introduce the concept so late into the series, and these hammy twins weren’t exactly subtle or eloquent, the prospects of an internal crisis mark an intriguing dilemma that has yet to be seen in Falaina’s 93 year history. There is a youthful naïvety, that remains woefully ignorant of the sacrifice and bloodshed required to bring about a tumultuous insurrection. But conversely, revolutions are also some of the most interesting segments of history, especially in a more contemporary era. It will present the greatest challenge Chakura has ever faced, because a civil war is afoot, which would likely end in a genocide of the Marked. No doubt he feels betrayed by the upper echelons of the Unmarked, who kept such a heavy secret from everybody else. That said, I expect Chakuro to rise above the trepidation of his doubts, in order to choose what is right.

Preview

「君の選択の、その先が見たい」 (Kimi no sentaku no, sono saki ga mitai)
“I Want To See Where Your Choice Leads”

 

Nibi’s Death & Ouni Unleashed

 

“I now must change these notes to tragic ones;

That brought into this World a world of woe.

Sing, goddess, the grief of Falaina’s son,

And the devastation of his anger,

putting countless pains upon the Empire.“

- Zaiden’s rewording of Paradise Lost IX (John Milton) and The Iliad (Homer)

 

For a brief moment, despite his allegedly inferior Thymia, Nibi stole the show. As he stood to protect his dearest friend, goading on the Empire’s soldiers in a cocksure way, he really emanated a spirit of youth and leadership. To be more exact, it truly felt like he was on a wonderful adventure, the kind that the Bowel Moles had yearned for their entire lives. Only his life was tragically cut short.

Last week, a commenter made an insightful point worth bringing up. The brutality of Hakuji’s sudden demise, cut off during his last words, serves to highlight a cruel world where anyone can die at anytime. Unfortunately, I conceded that the tragedy was lost upon me at the time, on the basis that the execution was somewhat lacking. But when Nibi’s turn finally came to depart from the mortal realm, such a message became wholeheartedly conveyed. It started with a gun shot, followed by an overhanging shock, then the sound of spears being thrusted through flesh. To describe the delivery as visceral would be a vast understatement.

If we consider Thymia to be tied with the manifestation of the human psyche (much like Cantus from Shin Sekai Yori), then it makes sense for Ouni to have gone berserk. If you consider that these kids were orphans who only had each other, the Bowel Moles were a family. Ouni and Nibi were particularly close, to the point where one would lay down his life for the other. He lost a person who helped him through some very dark times, and someone who he could unconditionally love.

Ouni himself remarks upon his own emptiness, teardrops scattering past memories, filled by meaning gained from being with the Bowel Moles. He might have seemed aloof, and he might have seemed the strongest, but at the end of the day, he too was a mere human with his own vulnerabilities.

 

Olivines and Anthropos

 

I have to admit that this vision segment left me confused, due to the sheer volume of previous information left unexplained. There are so many blanks in our knowledge, that it becomes hard to process together these fractured strands. For now, I’ll assume that Olivines occupies a similar role to Neri and Ema in relation to the Nous Anthropos, an intermediary by which communications can be made to humans.

The Kokalo (borrowed from Greek κόκαλο - bone) seems like a sinister item. By purportedly taking Falaina to the next stage, does that mean giving it the ability to harvest emotions like the other Nous? The implication of an ulterior motive is quite scary, especially when Chakuro was tortured, followed by an attempt to lead Lykos astray. But it would be too early to dismiss the possibility that Olivines is genuinely interested in mapping out Chakuro’s self-determined progression, and seeing the outcome of his unpredictable choice. After all, I also want to see where Chakuro’s choice takes him.

 

Concluding Thoughts

 

Though we know that it is possible to take down the remaining eight flagships, by directly targeting the Nous, I’m seriously doubting that Falaina can win out on this battle of attrition. They managed to take down a single one, but at what cost? Not to mention, Falaina possesses the same weakness, with nothing to stop the Empire from pulling off the same trick in a future encounter. Judging by the title name for the next episode, I would guess that a detachment will be sent to seek out people from third party factions, who can help make a stand against the Empire.

While I really enjoy vision sequences in Kujira, I’m also beginning to wonder if they are starting to become overused. As far as I can see, their abstract nature is being used as a crutch, to artificially induce more mystery. I’d say at the moment, there is more intrigue than the show can probably handle. Those of you familiar with Doctor Who might find yourselves familiar with this style of writing. Specifically, the school of Steven Moffat, where promises of mysteries continually overlay each other. After which two possible scenarios ensue – the answer itself is unsatisfactory, or there is no real answer to speak of. And unfortunately, as far as I can tell, it doesn’t look like our mysteries are going to be answered anytime soon.

 

Preview

「お前たちの未来が見たい」 (Omae tachi no mirai ga mitai)
“I Want To See Your Future ”

 

Invocation I

The mud whale’s song, of the people I sing, 

Made nomadic escape, a frightful fate,

from haughty Empire’s unrelenting hate.

Cursed and exiled from continental shore,

Long labors, both by sea and land, they bore.

- Zaiden’s Rewording of ‘The Aeneid’ by Virgil

 

Quick Recap: Falaina won’t simply go like lambs to the slaughter, having resolved to fight back against the Empire’s genocidal regime. However, I always had an inkling that things would never be so straightforwards, and that their plan would probably end with many casualties. And as ordained, the mysterious allure of Neri’s singing and dancing starkly contrasted rampant scenes of carnage and destruction. Young kids nonchalantly took lives, trivializing war into fun and games, much to Masoo’s despair. But what other choice could be had, other than accepting a cruel demise? And so they must fight to preserve their existence, turning the sea of sands crimson through violent bloodshed.

As always, proper execution left much to be desired. We were meant to find Hakuji’s passing deeply touching, where he came to regret his prior idea to sink the Mud Whale. To that end, he sought to sacrifice himself for the sake of protecting a younger generation from certain death. Unfortunately, the clumsy way he took out the soldiers left me laughing, which detracted from a moment that should have focused solely on Hakuji’s redemption. Also, I wasn’t too sure about the necessity for Liontari to intrude upon such a delicate moment by suddenly shortening Hakuji’s dying moment. Such was its jarring effect, that it killed the mood for me. Fortunately, the ending somewhat salvaged the momentum.

 

「この世から消えてしまえ」 (Konoyo kara kie te shimae)
“Disappear From This World”

 

Invocation II

Sing, heavenly muse, on top of the sands.

Of Falaina’s first disobedience,

Of the Nous, whose forbidden emotions,

Brought death into the world, and all our woe.

- Zaiden’s Rewording of ‘Paradise Lost’ by John Milton

 

General Thoughts

There was so much dark beauty, going into the moment where the massacre occurred. Bodies dropped, like marionettes that had their strings cut, emphasising the callous nature in which the guns went about claiming lives. But I really wish we got to know these characters better before they died. I don’t even remember the name of this guy, although he had a memorable trait of patting people on the head. As a result, the impact was very diminished to the point of feeling inconsequential, since no important character got caught up in the ambush.

Speaking of deaths, there was a notable one this episode, with Liontari finally kicking the bucket. Rather than feeling overjoyed, Suou’s vision made me pity the poor boy. From a young age, he was rejected by the Nous, becoming the sole outlier filled with emotions. Had he been born on Falaina, he would have lived an ordinary life. Instead, he’s subject to being an outcast, driven to attempting suicide in a fit of grief and insanity. Above all, he is abandoned by his very own family. Of course, this does not excuse the joy he derives from inflicting suffering and pain upon others. However, it’s not difficult to see why he turned out to have a few screws loose. And seeing the flash of longing in his eyes, when Suou extended an offer to live with them, really hit home that he’d been looking for a place to belong for his whole life.

Unfortunately, he rejects the proposition, and Shuan puts him out of his misery, though his end ultimately came at the hands of the very children he tried to terrorise. While survival is of the utmost priority, it’s saddening that these children are now undergoing experiences, that will devalue their sense for the sanctity of life. Once the war is over, how will they readjust back into times of peace? In that sense, I regard these children as permanently affected for the worse, by circumstances far beyond their control.

Concluding Thoughts

These mysterious tendrils seem to gravitate towards the wounded or deceased, so I’m beginning to wonder if Falaina operates by absorbing the life force of its residents. Could that be the alleged original sin, where an experimentation was made with the Nous, that directly interfered with human life? But it would be difficult to explain why the ancestors would choose such a horrible option, unless life on the mainland became absolutely untenable. To be honest, the Empire doesn’t sound very different from the hell on Earth they ironically ascribe unto Falaina. So I can see the thin veil of logic behind escaping, and retaining full capacity of emotions, at the cost of shortened lives.

Now that the Empire has decided to go after them, their time is almost up – this conflict is simply unsustainable for Falaina. Their population was never large to begin with, yet they lost so many people trying to take out Skylos. In short, any leverage that Falaina gain from superior Thymia is completely outstripped by the Empire’s resources. As such, I find it very difficult to see how they can keep up the fight, let alone prevail. I’m waiting to see our protagonists pull the rabbit out of a hat, because a Deus Ex Machina is pretty much required. So as the crusaders of old would say, ‘deus vult’.

 

Preview

「明日、人を殺してしまうかもしれない」 (Ashita, hito o koroshi te shimau kamo shire nai)
“Tomorrow, I Might End Up Having To Kill Someone”

Eve of the War

Child soldiers always make my stomach twist and turn, even if it cannot be avoided within this particular fictional setup. The adults have vastly inferior Thymia, leaving no other practical alternative to fight off the invasion. However, it’s a terrible situation I cannot wrap my head around, because I know I will struggle seeing the corpses of kids, even if it’s not ‘real’ per se. At first, the idea of mass suicide sounded really crazy, and I harshly criticised the elders last episode. But I can sort of see their reasoning in the perspective offered by Rasha. You either die with your conscience intact, or live long enough to become a monster that sacrifices children. Even supposing that these children do not die, being forced to take lives would definitely warp them for the worse. To that end, I can understand why the elders do not want the blood and trauma of children on their hands. However, I think that fighting to survive remains the vastly better choice out of two evils. But with the insight Rasha provided, can we still call it a correct decision?

Nibi and Ouni

We get a flashback fleshing out the incredible bond that Nibi has shared with Ouni since childhood, making it through thick and thin with a rag-tag bunch of fellow orphans, following a silly altercation of sorts. What intrigues me is how Ouni, who is universally viewed as the group leader, recognises Nibi as being his leader. Going back to when they were children, Nibi was actually the one who validated Ouni’s raison d’etre in the bowels, by proclaiming that he would take him to find a better place beyond the island. Now that I think about it, this could explain why Nibi seems so set on joining the mission. He wants to keep true to the promise he made many years ago, and we can see that for Ouni, it truly means the whole world to him.

Let me preface my next statement, by saying I don’t typically buy into how anime as a medium presents homosexual relations. That said, I feel this moment between Ouni and Nibi hark back to the intimate brotherhood shared by Patroclus and Achilles from the Iliad. In my opinion, there is much romance to be had in the Ancient Grecian notions of love. As such, I would love to see this being explored, since it would further expand the way in which Kujira draws from the influence of Classical civilisation. Not to mention, it’s been said that Ouni has never been seen crying. If he couldn’t even shed tears for the two comrades that fell in the last invasion, it would possibly take Nibi’s death to push him over the edge.

The Sand-Throwing Festival

Cultural traditions such as the Sand Throwing Festival really augment the extent of Kujira’s gorgeous world-building. In the context of a society where people die at young ages, I suppose it makes sense to commemorate these transient yet beautiful lives. I’m glad that the event was not cancelled given the difficult times, since it managed to convey a strength of compassion, which continued to shine through despite everyone’s grief. Not to mention, the sparkling of sand scattering across the wind managed to strike a somber note deep inside of me.

Seeing how Chakuro rescued Lykos from her plight, I’m not surprised that she’s begun developing feelings towards him. But the Sand Throwing Festival shows us that Chakuro has yet to move on from Sami. Memories of the deceased girl remain fresh, and imprint a deep wound onto his heart. I actually think Chakuro gets a lot of unfair criticism, especially when it concerns his crying. The boy is a sensitive soul, who had to watch the love of his life getting senselessly slaughtered right before his eyes. If he didn’t cry, or if he had quickly bounced back and recovered, my estimation of his character would have severely decreased. Knowing and loving someone intimately, and for most of your life at that, is not something that goes away in a matter of days.

The Other Half

Seems like my previous hypothesis on Neri was wildly off the mark. Turns out the other personality is Ema, who currently claims to be a twin sister, manifesting occasionally as a separate consciousness. Anyway, I hope that Ema shows ethereal visions to teach Chakuro about Falaina’s history. The dream sequence demonstrated by Neri was absolutely exquisite if we’re talking about artistic value, and plays into the mystical fantasy element that I would associate as being one of the stronger aspects in Kujira. Therefore, it would please me to see them happen on a more regular basis.

Concluding Thoughts

The threat of total annihilation is not being fully utilised. Kujira needs to work on capturing feelings of fear and uncertainty, that are bound to engulf people faced by such overwhelming adversity. At the moment, the characters are simply taking events as they come, and emotions to me seem just as fleeting as the lives of Thymia users. They don’t concern themselves over the possibility their mission might fail, which artificially deflates what should be significantly higher in terms of stakes. Fundamentally, there’s a lack of urgency, which makes it hard to feel immersed in the crisis presented to us. However, I do not expect the operation to go smoothly and reckon there will be a good number of casualties resulting from this attempted infiltration. I personally look forwards to seeing how things pan out, because it may facilitate a darker turn of events, that will be sure to elicit some savoury reactions from our cast.

Preview

「泥クジラと共に砂に召されるのだよ」(Dorokujira to tomo ni suna ni mesareru no da yo)
“Let’s Suicide In The Sand With The Mud Whale”

Let me preface this post by saying, I’m so sorry. The delay comes from losing my laptop charger, then having no proper contingency plan in place. Any remaining time and energy had to be redirected towards similarly affected legal studies, which unfortunately took precedence over Random Curiosity. Kujira had to be further delayed, due to releasing on Monday, when my primary access to blogging came over the weekend. Not exactly the ideal scenario, but better than nothing. Now dear readers, if you could forgive me, that would be great. And for these misgivings, I owe everybody an apology, especially my fellow colleagues. Love y’all! Special thanks to Pancakes, a literal superstar who helped gather screencaps for Episode 4. Now, without further ado, let’s proceed onto the main body of this post!

Quick Recap: Though we may still be in the midst of grieving, another problem surfaces. Kujira looks to set up an irreconcilable conflict between Chakuro and some out of touch elders. But using mass suicide to drive such an agenda is nothing short of crazy. There’s honestly no rhyme or reason to such a decision, and the complete lack of subtlety really irks me. While it’s true that those aboard Falaina are incredibly sheltered from the outside world, it would not warrant contravening tenets of self-preservation which are fundamental to almost every human being – emotions or no emotions.

Another point I’d like to make: I don’t think Ginshu is a well-written character. It sort of rubs me the wrong way that she exhibits so little emotional reaction following the massive genocide committed against her people, and that she gets a creepy kick out of being called ‘onee-san’. However, I suppose her heart is in the right place, like when she took Chakki’s side without questioning his motives. Plus, she can be entertaining in her own respect.

Minor complaints aside, I really liked the ethereal vision that Neri showed to Chakuro. The mysterious and magical qualities were well conveyed, remaining a strong aspect of the series. Not only did we receive closure regarding Sami – all kinds of juicy hints were dropped about the inner turbulence of key characters, as well as this vague conception that there’s something more to Neri than we might think.

「逃げるのはイヤだ」 (Nigeru no wa iyada)
“I Don’t Want to Run”

Mass Destruction (averted)

You would think that even the most brazen and outspoken of foolish leaders would not openly reveal their morally objectionable plans to systematically kill off an entire population. Least of all towards those unwittingly burdened into carrying out such a task. I’m just glad that people saw sense and denounced the sheer absurdity in the Elder’s extremely kneejerk plan. Forcing everyone to accept a terrible decision is no act of kindness, and from the looks of it, little deliberation went into considering any possible alternatives. A bah humbug to you, good sir.

Chakuro’s Emotions

As someone who invests high stock on characters, one of the things I find myself enjoying the most about Kujira is how Chakuro wears emotions on his sleeve. Admittedly, he was kind of annoying at the start, but he really began to grow on me as the series progressed. So many male characters adhere to this machismo notion where they deeply bury their feelings, particularly widespread in a fictional society where strong emotions are taboo. Yet when called for, Chakuro is not above letting loose one hell of a passionate speech, amidst a flurry of tears. In my opinion, there is a strength of will, in breaking away from the shackles of historic tradition. His humanity is further emphasised when he expressed a powerful gratitude towards being alive, through the simple appreciation of an open field. If I think about it, being overemotional should make Chakuro an objectively poor archivist, since they are merely meant to document passing events in a detached fashion. That said, the quality of written history poses no concern to us. I’d even venture to say it’s actually perfect for a main character, because we strive to understand occurrences within the context of their intensely personal experience.

Concessions on Ouni

I will take back what I previously said about Ouni being an edgelord extraordinaire. He helped put a stop to these silly machinations, and came across as awesome when throwing his full support to rally behind an emotional Suou. However, for all the build up we were teased with, his fight with the eyepatch man was one heck of a wet noodle. They waved around some sticks, while displaying minimal usage of Thymia, a situation redeemed only by the revelation of some cursed eye. Hopefully we get more tidbits on the backstory behind that one, but I’m sadly becoming wary of how often Kujira promises something more, only to let down our expectations.

Concluding Thoughts

The discussion on how to defeat the evil Empire gave me flashbacks to Star Wars. Specifically when Lykos (Princess Leia) was explaining to everybody how the seemingly impenetrable Nous (The Death Star) had a weakness that could be exploited. However, Lykos also presents another interesting possibility whereby Falaina seeks out different nations bearing towards the Empire, to cooperate as allies sharing a mutual interest. Whether this will work or not remains to be seen, but I’m not expecting it to be that straightforward. As Viscount Palmerston proclaimed in regards to his stance on Britain’s 19th Century Foreign Policy: “We have no eternal allies, and we have no perpetual enemies. Our interests are eternal and perpetual, and those interests it is our duty to follow”.

Preview

P.S. – I want to specifically thank agirlhasn0name. Thank you very much for helping me take screencaps for Episode 5, and lending me your laptop over the weekends so that I could do some vital catching up!

「こんな世界は、もうどうでもいい」 (Konna sekai wa, mou dou demo ii)
“I’ve Had Enough Of This World”

Genocide of Falaina

I had always expected that people would eventually die. However, I did expect it to come so soon, and in such a brutal way. For a naïve civilisation that didn’t know evil, or how to fend for itself, Falaina’s exposure to the outside world came at an incredibly steep price. The result? A full-blown genocide. If you’re in doubt, to the point of requiring an anecdotal example, consider Christopher Colombus and his cruel subjugation of the American-Indian tribes. Or the now extinct Dodos, who continued to approach humans bearing arms, despite being killed en masse. You may be frustrated, and think it’s stupid how people didn’t fight back. But precedence shows it has happened within the very annals of our collective history. Hence it would be unfair to describe the massacre as poor and unrealistic writing, regarding this particular point. Most people on the Mud Whale die at a really young age anyway, due to the exertions of Thymia, so a vast majority of the population already consisted of kids. Seeing them getting senselessly massacred made me feel so much anger and despair, the kind I get when I read about the Syrian refugee crisis in the news, with the picture of (Warning: Graphic Content) a dead three year old boy getting washed up on a beach. After all, what have these kids done to deserve any of this?

When it came to Sami’s death, Chakuro’s voice acting was superb. You could really feel the emotion, especially regret, getting caught up in his throat. This actually reminds me of something. A very close friend of mine unexpectedly lost her father at a young age, and she is perpetually haunted by her final moment with him. He developed a stroke while they were having a heated argument. I wish I could tell Chakuro it’s not his fault. I wish I could tell him that Sami probably knew deep inside her heart how much he loved and cared about her. I wish I could tell Chakuro that Sami wouldn’t want him to feel guilty about teasing her the day before, and to live on with a smile on his face. But no amount of reassurance can alleviate the grieving process, for only time can heal such terrible wounds that scar our hearts. The loss of a loved one is not the only burden, as survivor’s guilt also comes into play. Watching events unfold, I found it incredibly hard to take, and I could feel myself slightly tearing up too.

However, subtlety completely flew out of the window during the second half of the episode. I honestly thought someone had whacked me on the head with a frying pan, as if to repeatedly illustrate a point I already knew. Did anyone else find Liontari’s introduction jarring? I understand that he needs to be framed as this twisted villain. However, they mark completely overstepped the mark. We didn’t even get a moment to properly grieve, and salt was already being rubbed into fresh injuries. Chakuro’s revulsion and fury towards Liontari was understandable. I also came to instantly hate this sickening clown, when he handled Sami’s corpse with a playful lack of respect. But I also felt really confused. How could someone lack emotion, yet take delight in other people’s suffering? I won’t question the specifics of how the Nous deprive emotion, because it does not seem like a blanket severance judging by Liontari as well as Lykos herself. To that end, I’m expecting these seemingly contradictory problems to be addressed at a future date, a matter I concede to be deeply unsatisfactory.

Concluding Thoughts

True to its inspiration from classical civilisation, Kujira no Kora wa Sajou ni Utau bore hallmarks of an Ancient Greek tragedy. I have often claimed that tragedy is usually derived from the tears of those who live, as opposed to the moment of passing. This was poignantly demonstrated during the funeral procession, where nobody could stop their tears from flowing, even though it went against Falaina’s custom and tradition. I couldn’t stop crying either, as the survivors raised their hands to the sky, using their Thymia to provide safe passage for the deceased in their caskets. It was a breath-takingly beautiful moment, that thoroughly conveyed a broad sense of catharsis. Rest in peace, departed souls. Your lives may have been short, but I hope that death came swiftly, with a minimal amount of suffering.

Kujira starts off incredibly, and I would even suggest that the world-building reaches a similar level to Shin Sekai Yori, while far exceeding it in respects to visual quality. Unfortunately, the script somehow undid much of the intricacy that went into crafting such a spectacular world. The exposition took a nosedive, with Liontari’s introduction being a clumsy offender. Any kind of pleasant immersion was badly disrupted by how he got shoehorned in. Not to mention, odd pauses frequently occurred during tense situations where characters gave speeches, while having guns pointed at them. It is beyond beggar’s belief, that the enemy actually gave them a chance to complete sentences without firing a single shot. Although the potential hasn’t been destroyed, it’s such a shame that this episode suffered a huge drop in story-telling quality due to inconsistencies.

However, I fully believe that with the help of Netflix funding, JC Staff can still make something special happen. Therefore, I will give Kujira some benefit of the doubt, and continue to give coverage for the rest of this season. Thank you for reading my post, and I look forwards to giving extended coverage into the foreseeable future!

Preview

OP Sequence

OP: 「その未来へ」 (Sono Mirai e) by RIRIKO

「鯨の罪人たち」 (Farena no tsumibitotachi)
“The Sinners of Falaina”

A Certain Delicious Crepe recently told me that Netflix is pumping money into Kujira no Kora wa Sajou ni Utau through licensing fees. While I’m skeptical of the business model they have chosen to adopt, specifically whether it works for a medium like anime in the long-run, there’s no denying that their interest in anime presents some serious potential that can be tapped into. It certainly shows, when in my opinion, every piece of background art is beautifully detailed to the point where it visually rivals Mahoutsukai no Yome. However, that was never the issue. Did the narrative structure improve since last week? Let’s find out.

General Impressions

Although there was a lot of exposition, I did not feel overwhelmed compared with the first episode, and the story managed to retain most of its flow. Left by the ebbing tide of battle and stranded upon Falaina, a girl soldier called Lykos is dragged along by Ouni, to explore the mysterious island where she was found. Firstly, we come across a mound of graves, indicative of terrible battles that once took place. It’s understandable how someone like Chakuro finds himself openly grieving, even though he had no personal connection to the people who lost their lives. Where a natural death at a young age is the status quo within the Mud Whale, there is no knowledge regarding weaponry designed to kill. He was ignorant towards the existence of evil, let alone the atrocities humans are capable of committing, and that kind of discovery is bound to hurt. What’s more, Chakuro and Ouni both experience various memories of suffering and carnage during their brief encounter with the Nous. Though neither Chakuro or Ouni incur a loss of emotions, their innocence is forever shattered. As Lykos puts it, the outside world they had always longed to see is full of emotionless people, making use of heartless Apathoia to wage a war that may never know an end.

Lykos claims to lack emotions, but we can see that they are slowly returning, causing her unbearable pains. Given the richness and breadth of human feelings, I can certainly imagine how she might get overwhelmed. But this should have been obvious for quite a while now. Why else would she save Chakuro, cry at memories of her parents, and forewarn Suou about an impending attack?

Anyway, we end up catching glimpses of various things – discarded emotions from forgotten lifetimes. Sweet pictures of families or soft toys are greatly contrasted by war, bringing with it the inescapable shadow of death. In short, we are told there is almost nothing the average person can gain from war, and receive a firsthand experience of their helpless anguish in the face of a terrifying adversity. Here’s when Chakuro suddenly feels his compulsion to write, and I reckon he wants to capture these precious emotions and make sure they were not lost. He wants to ensure that these short lives were not in vain, and that’s a kind of sincere empathy we rarely see even in fictional medium, so Chakuro deserves a lot of respect.

Nonetheless, one can still find more beauty in this godforsaken world. For example, we might associate locust swarms with the desecration of crops and famines. However, the one in Kujira really took me by surprise. Like how the Nous was the most beautiful malignant tumour I’d seen, the same could be said for this particular locust swarm, something I would attribute to the unlimited potential of animation. The way the locusts lit up the night sky reminded me of transient fireworks, which really changed my perspective on this series, offering a beautiful reprieve in a listless fantasy world hurtling towards a precipice.

Concluding Thoughts

Throughout the episode, Sami showed the depths of her feelings towards Chakuro, by showing a lot of care and attention towards him. She had so many cute moments with him, and was unable to contain her jealousy, with a pout being the highlight. Everything looked to be going great for her, including a moment where they touched hands and blushed. Alas, it was not to be – paradise is not eternal. Dark ships come out of the sandy seas, bringing sentinels of destruction in its wake, and Sami becomes the first sacrificial lamb after taking bullets to save Chakuro. While it is not confirmed that she has died, my hopes are not too high. You know, I’m not actually sad, so much as shocked just like Chakuro. I felt certain that this encounter would eventually happen, but I didn’t expect it to happen so soon, and in such a brutal way.

After ending on that cliffhanger, we’ll have to wait and see how this sudden ambush pans out next week. Most importantly, I want to find out how exactly Falaina sinned, to provoke ire and retribution from the mainland. I highly doubt that the residents of the Mud Whale will be completely exterminated, otherwise the story might as well end here. However, I’m looking forwards to see how the survivors will live on after this tragic incident, and cope with the grief that naturally comes following these kinds of losses. I can assure you, that will be the chance to make me break down in tears – seeing how those living despair at the set of circumstances that life has dealt to them.

Preview

「私たちの大事な世界の全てだった」 (Watashitachi no daijina sekai no subetedatta)
“It was the Entirety of Our Precious World”

Initial Expectations

Kujira no Kora wa Sajou ni Utau looks like a culmination of many things I would wish for in an anime. Judging by the PVs, there’s a cast mainly comprised of children, who possess superpowers, and are slowly coming of age. Most importantly, it displays a unique and gorgeous art style that is so refreshing to look at. Don’t those oceans of sand look sexy? Disclaimer, I don’t swing that way. But seriously, I wonder if JC Staff were trying to take lessons from PA Works, because they probably ended up creating their most beautiful show to date. I’m still somewhat concerned at their recent inconsistency when it comes to adaptations, so I’m preparing myself for potential drops in quality. However, some optimism is warranted where the director Ishiguro Kyouhei can bring over his experience from adapting Shigatsu, where he delicately handled the source material with precision and sensitivity. Kujira no Kora wa Sajou ni Utau could even be anime of the season if they keep things up! Let’s dive head first into the sand, and see how they manage.

General Impressions

Not all people are born equal, and this can be said for people who live on a gigantic boat traversing the seas of sand, colloquially referred to as the Mud Whale. There are the unmarked, a minority of ordinary people who lack special powers, but live to a ripe old age just like most of us would. Then there are 90% who possess the mark, being blessed with the telekinetic powers of Thymia, at the cost of living severely shortened lives. The series starts on a somber tone of Benihi’s funeral, a marked woman who died at the young age of 27. As the person who taught Chakuro and Sami to use their Thymia, her death obviously has a deep effect upon them. Such an occurrence also leaves a deep impression of the cultural mannerisms pertaining to these people, regarding how they remember the dead, and it also serves to instil an important dynamic. Although our characters seem like adolescents, they’ve lived out half their lives. Let that sink in for a moment – you have so much to live for, but are ordained to die in the next decade or so. To be perfectly honest, Thymia is no blessing in comparison to the curse it brings.

Nonetheless, we get an idea of what our characters are like, through how they find beauty and meaning in such a limited life. Sami (Kanemoto Hisako) tries to teach children how to control their Thymia, imparting her knowledge to the next generation, and following the footsteps left by Benihi. From what we’ve seen, she’s a kind and gentle soul, who might have feelings for Chakuro. Her older brother Suou (Shimazaki Nobunaga) is one of the Unmarked, and next in line to become Chieftain. Their sibling relationship would explain why Suou is desperately researching ways to help extend the life of those who are Marked. Ouni (Umehara Yuichiro) reminds me of Yatogami Kuroh from K in terms of character design and combat prowess, although he comes across as being more aloof. Alongside the other outcasts, can they find some meaning to their existence beyond the Mud Whale? It’s hard to say, but I reckon Ouni will eventually play a pivotal role later on.

Befitting of her name, Lykos (Iwami Manaka) acts like a lone wolf. Though love and hatred are two sides of the same coin, apathy is the complete opposite, hence I could understand why the elders felt so terrified of her. If someone lacks any semblance of emotions, how are they meant to appreciate the value of life? That said, something is off about Lykos’ claiming to lack emotional capacity. For example, she cried when the mysterious curse compelled her to make an attempt upon Chakuro’s life. Also, I suspect that she fed the cat some food, despite being starved herself. I certainly wouldn’t think that the cat could open the cat food containers by itself, and it didn’t really have a reason to help her on a whim. Hence I’m inclined to think she’s a kinder person than what she might seem, who is actually sick of killing people, and needs Chakuro to help hoist her out of the darkness.

Speaking of our protagonist, Chakuro (Hanae Natsuki) is one of the Marked, and serves as an archivist for the Mud Whale. By keeping the records as if they were diaries, he can bereave those who died, and slowly make peace with his inevitable fate. As someone who also defaults to writing as a coping mechanism in difficult times, I can relate all too well with Chakuro. My only criticism would be directed towards how we received our exposition through his narrative. There was a lack of flow, one which kept on getting interrupted by random information lumped in less than appropriate places, to the point of breaking immersion. How frustrating! Then again, I’ll begrudgingly concede that it actually fits Chakuro’s characterisation. He’s an observant boy, who soaks in details of the world around him. Yet he is awkward when it comes to expressing himself,  lacking eloquence in both his writing and speech. However, he writes because he wants to, and for the sake of future generations. If these excerpts are all meant to come from the diary a 14 year old boy, then the clumsy writing becomes justifiable to some extent. When I was his age, my writing was probably worse, and I imagine the same could be said for many of us. So long as he keeps up at it, maybe we’ll start seeing improvements down the line.

Concluding Thoughts

If I had to bring up similar shows, Kujira no Kora wa Sajou ni Utau might feel like an amalgamation between Shin Sekai Yori and Nagi no Asukara. However, clear influences running from classical civilisation completely distinguish the series. Greek is widely adopted into the various terminologies, while the Mud Whale itself bears hallmarks of Babylonian architecture. In short, the creator did a fantastic job of capturing ancient sentiments on an epic and fantastical scale.

That aside, the appearance of Lykos poses many questions. Where did she come from? Is there a civilisation that exists beyond the Mud Whale? If so, would that civilisation be friendly or hostile? Here is where I would echo the elder’s sentiment. Lykos is a harbinger of doom, who will likely mark the end of the Mud Whale’s voyage. After all, what happens when a civilisation that know of only war and death, encounters a paradise free from such evils? The paradise will become tainted at best, and at worst, utterly destroyed. If Lykos is any indication to go by, a living hell exists beyond the paradise of the Mud Whale, forcing children to abandon their emotions and fight in bloody wars. Sure, nothing new, but it’s an implication that never stops being so damn tragic for me. Whenever I hear about children being victims of war, I always think, what did they do to deserve this? I’m not ready to see the Mud Whale succumb to the violence of such a brutal reality, but it’s certainly looking that way if the civilisations are destined to cross paths.

As they say, et in Arcadia ego. Whenever I get that vibe, I’m conditioned to steel myself for the horrors up ahead, in anticipation for the bait and switch. The Mud Whale is all these children know, so I suspect that the series cover their journey into a wider world, and one much crueller than anything they could possibly imagine. However, the show must continue, as we become implicit in witnessing this glorious yet tragic spectacle.

ED Sequence

ED: 「ハシタイロ」 (Hashitairo) by rionos

Preview