I’m no longer an anime fan.

I have no excuses.

I’m an anime fan has-been. I don’t have Internet right now, so all I do is read books and go to work. Being a medical doctor is harsh. There’s really little time for anything else than duty, and that sucks.

I still love anime, though. I saw the first episode of Psycho-Pass and was quite impressed with it. I honestly miss my analyses on Tatami Galaxy, however – or my excursions on Code Geass years ago. I want to have an Internet connection, but I have to make do with reading instead. All I can do now is go online at certain times, and that really doesn’t bode well for anime watching. Currently, I am taking back my life, trying to decimate the backlogs of novels to read.

Anime should be next. I’m quite hopeful, but I need an Internet connection to do that. It’s frustrating.

After seven pages of drafts from my notebook, I decided to scratch all those and just write. After all, this isn’t a literary publication or a research paper: it’s just a place to share my insights and reflections on different objects or people in my life.

James Joyce has been an intermittent topic in this blog. I was introduced to him during my first year of university, in my literature class. We were then tasked to read and analyze ‘The Boarding House.’ Truth be told, I wasn’t too impressed with the story: it was only later when I found out that he had authored two of the top five novels in the 20th century as ranked by critics and editors. It was during this time that my madness for Joyce began: what else could it be called, really? In today’s world, would any young adult willingly dare to read his later works without being a little mad himself?

I have no regrets whatsoever, because reading ALL of his major works gives me the privilege to lambast his works without any hypocrisy. I did read them, after all, so I’m free to hate on them. This is not to say that I think Joyce was talentless as a writer: in fact, I think he remains to be brilliant. Many critics regard Dubliners to be one of the greatest short story collections ever written, and I’m wont to agree with them: ‘The Dead’ alone can make up for the rest of the collection, but the other stories are no pushovers. ‘Araby’ is a great coming-of-age tale, and ‘The Boarding House’ wasn’t too shabby.

Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man was also quite good. It wasn’t exactly my cup of tea, but it belongs to the category of books I have read more than once, so I have much respect for it. My respect for Joyce has increased after I finished re-reading Stephen Hero: before Portrait came to be, it had Stephen Hero as its predecessor. Instead of the stream-of-consciousness writing that Joyce started to apply in Portrait, Stephen Hero was written linearly, and more formally. Despite being an apocrypha, it does still remain part of his major prose works; in actuality, I prefer it to the rest. While SH is more languid than the leaner Portrait, it explicates upon the philosophy that encompassed Joyce’s life. Because Dublin could not accept him, he had to follow silence, exile, and unbelief. Instead of focusing on the characters, SH focused on the progression of ideas within the plot, and I liked that.

I liked that because it posited questions more directly, and a lot of these were quite thought-provoking. Why, indeed, would Christ be tempted to be the ruler in a kingdom of idiots? I’m just saddened at how his later works turned out, because I frankly believe Joyce could have been universally celebrated. Had he instead focused on writing intriguing and potent stories without relying on gimmickry and the invention of a new language only he could understand, he would be more respected. As it stands most contemporary critics mock his Finnegans Wake: yes, I think it’s utter shit, too.

I think works in general, after all, are only brilliant when they possess some heart in them. Tatami Galaxy was a kaleidoscope of ideas, but it was all about finding oneself despite being thrown into an unwelcoming world; Steins;Gate was, beyond all the science and physics, ultimately a series about filial piety and love. Had S;G been all about physics, I doubt it would have maintained the attention of its viewers until its final episode. It was more about sacrifice for the ones you love and care for.

What would the use of coalescing the languages of the world be if no one understood what you were writing? What would be the use of being so brilliant and yet ultimately soulless? Soullessness, after all, was Joyce’s fatal flaw. His stories had heart prior to Finnegans Wake, although they had become lesser and lesser as he got older. This is an example series should follow: it’s all right to be technically mediocre. Maison Ikkoku was indeed that. It’s a lot more important to tell a story that appeals to the soul of people: the rest will ultimately follow.

Before I start with the article proper, shout-out goes to Conor, Angelus, and Ryan A for sticking with me even though I haven’t been updating much lately. I really appreciate your reading my posts, Conor. I’m downloading Madoka next, Angelus.

One of my earliest introductions to classic literature was Poe’s ‘Casque of Amontillado.’ My father badgered me into reading it, and I obeyed in due time. I’m glad I obeyed, because I started reading good literature at an age significantly earlier than my contemporaries. I was about 10 during that time. When I was 11, I decided to read more of Poe’s works, because I liked the horror stories he wrote. To my surprise, however, I discovered that he also wrote detective stories and was arguably the first auteur of modern detective stories. I had heard of Sherlock Holmes, but the detective that introduced me to the mystery story was clearly Auguste Dupin in The Murders of the Rue Morgue.

Although I moved away from mystery stories and focused on realistic classics, I have never stopped appreciating the sophistication and the apollonian artistry found in the detective story. In fact, through the years I find that the classics I end up liking the most have significant elements of a detective story: there is the initial confusion and obfuscation, followed by piecemeal plot development that culminates in the story fitting everything together beautifully in the end. I certainly think this can be said about Faulkner’s Absalom, Absalom! and Bely’s Petersburg: while the stories are extremely jarring and disorientating early on, the pieces of the puzzle slowly fit into the big picture. When the big picture is finally seen, the scenery is explosive, moving, and cathartic.

They're so destined for one another, the space between their kiss forms a heart.

I think it’s not coincidental that the two works are also recognized to be challenging works of literature precisely because of the novels’ method of narration. Temporal shifts occur without warning, and the reader is left to figure things out with few guides. The non-linear technique further makes things difficult: much effort has to be expended to understand the flux of the plot, but there is also much reward when one figures it out, as behind the confusion lies a truly potent story.

This is where the beauty of Steins;Gate lies in, as well. I’m actually reminded of one of my most favorite series, Tatami Galaxy. And yes, while eyes of some readers are rolling, one can’t help but admit of the similarities with its methods of narration: both tell the story non-linearly, with highly intelligent and kind female deuteragonists, and initially conceited but ultimately endearing protagonists. There is the Groundhog Day rewinds found in both series, as well. Although there wasn’t a physical establishment of a time machine in Tatami Galaxy, both series tackled the immutable and tragic alternate realities suffered through by its protagonists while seeking for a solution to their pressing problems. Tatami Galaxy was simply more of a series of internal catharsis than Steins;Gate: it focused on self-transcendence and self-realization more than it did on the concept of transcendent filial and romantic love in S;G.

Steins;Gate, given that it had more time for explication, was more patient and deliberate than Tatami Galaxy. It was afforded more time in the development of its world than Tatami Galaxy: I simply prefer the primacy and immediacy of Tatami Galaxy, however; but I do admit that the execution and finesse of Steins;Gate is at the apex of anime series.

The central reason why I think quite highly of both these series, however, lies in the fact that these two execute their stories with such intelligence and sophistication without pandering to its viewers. Tatami Galaxy is the more brusque, artistic entity, whereas Steins;Gate is the more refined, aristocratic one. I prefer the rawness of Tatami Galaxy particularly because its roughness allows more interpretation within established limits: it’s more secretive and mystical than the polished, structured glamor found within Steins;Gate. It simply takes a certain kind of prescience and artistry to properly map out a series so beautifully and so accurately that everything coalesces at the end of it all. It takes even more to execute this beautifully, and both series have done so majestically without foregoing of the emotional drive that is pivotal to any series’s success.

I didn’t really go much into detail with regard to the later entries of the top 10 not because they were bad anime, but because they were merely decent to above-average entries that every year would probably have. On the other hand, however, I feel that these five anime were really in a league of their own for this year, especially the top three. One made something already exquisite even more beautiful; another resurrected a franchise in the dregs of its own stupidity; and one was the landmark event: it was just far and away the best anime of 2010. I must forewarn you that the individual entries of these great anime are relatively lengthy, but I felt I had to give more respect to these gems of 2010. (more…)

I’ve had this for the past few days (thanks again go to J-pwq), but I never had time to watch it due to pending examinations. It’s roughly a third of the length of a regular Tatami Galaxy episode, and is essentially just an extra. The special nevertheless still remains true to its roots, with the characters essentially the same from the series: Jougasaki drops everything upon seeing Kaori and Akashi remains to be the quintessential cool and helpful girl.

Kaori can now hold his hand back.

For all the indolence that Higuchi exudes and enacts, he has painted in his imaginative story an accurate portrait of the personalities of the series’s central characters. It’s only seven minutes, anyway. Watch it!

Diving with elephants?

Last year, when I found out that Christopher Nolan was filming a movie that dealt with dreams and the architecture of the mind, I knew I was going to see it on cinema early in its release. It’s the kind of expectant waiting that I had with Tatami Galaxy: I had faith that it was going to be something good based on the track records of its auteur. Just as I was impressed with Kemonozume and Kaiba (to a lesser extent), I was also impressed with Memento, The Prestige, and The Dark Knight. My faith all the more solidified when I knew it was going to be performed by a stellar cast: what else do you expect from a group of Oscar winners and nominees? Even Tom Brady was excellent in his portrayal as Bronson, and Joseph Gordon-Levitt in both his independent and blockbuster films was consistently great (I loved [500] Days of Summer).

Genius.

It’s been four years since I’ve started to blog here at AnimeBlogger. I asked for suggestions in a previous post of mine, but it seemed no one had something in mind. I was thinking about what to do as thanks for my readers; luckily I was able to browse through a decent recommendation thread in /a/ (yes, I did not write that wrong). I saw a picture that was full of experimental and artsy anime offerings: I then realized that it was going to be what I will be doing in celebration of my four years. I will be talking about anime OVAs, series, and movies on the fringes of the medium: these are the entrees that even a significant number of anime fans are unfamiliar of, experiments and gifts that try to push the envelope of anime. Interspersed among my regular commentary on current anime series, I hope this segment brings more attention to these mostly unknown works of art. I won’t try to dissect them as surgically as I did with Tatami Galaxy; I’ll just try to invite more people to enjoy these works.

I’m calling this segment The Nether Side, primarily to pertain to these anime being below the radar of most anime viewers. It’s also a colorful title in itself.

After the end of Tatami Galaxy, I thought it was high time to re-watch Kaiba, because people could posit that I only like it as a series because it just ended. Re-watching Kaiba would address both of that, as it won’t be the most recent series I watched, and it’s also a work by Masaaki Yuasa so the two are open to interpretation, comparison, and contrast.

Whether before or after the re-watch, however, my heart remains the same: I think Tatami Galaxy is better than Kaiba. I’ll accede to the fact that Kaiba is more brilliant thematically, but that is all I will give Kaiba. For the most part, Tatami Galaxy is equal to or better than Kaiba from my perception. (more…)

The aftermath of Tatami Galaxy got me into thinking I should rearrange and reorganize my method of rating anime series. I don’t give many series perfect scores, but I do like a significant number of series and I gave most of them perfect 10s. I realized that it just didn’t cut it with Tatami Galaxy, though. The experience of watching the series was like the first time I watched Honey and Clover. I was so involved with basically everything about the series, from abundant speculation to interpreting the occurrences of the series; I was also so involved with the characters themselves that I couldn’t help but cry freely during the final episode because all of them have grown, especially Watashi. It was simply then I realized that I would have given 11 for these shows just because they were so good, but that was supposed to be the reason for a perfect 10.

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[This will constantly be edited with questions addressed in the commentary section of this post. I will utilize other blogs, research, and Quarkboy as references, in addition to my observations with regard to the series.]

1. From Vendredi: What is the importance of cats in the series?

When he asked the question, I was actually pondering the answer myself. This is merely a hypothesis, and may not be satisfactory to many, but even as early as the first episode the viewer is exposed to cat symbolism and cat imagery, most notably here.

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