The most significant cultural differences are often the smallest things. Something as simple as a greeting can reveal ideas and societal behaviors that are worlds apart. Ikoku Meiro no Croisée, an adorable short anime about a little Japanese girl “lost” in the city of Paris, does a nice job of highlighting some of these details of life. ^[1]

A kiss on the cheeks from Alice sends Yune into a fluster. The kiss is a small social gesture to indicate friendliness. For Alice, this is a common form of greeting. For Yune, however, the kiss is a surprising breach of her intimate space. And it shows on her troubled, panicked, blushing face. When Yune finally realizes the social meanings behind cheek kissing, she wonders about her place in the ironwork shop, and in a broader sense, where she lies in Paris.

I imagine it must be pretty difficult for Yune to adjust to this new world. The cultural differences go beyond just the fashion, or the food, or the locals—those are the fun, easy aspects. ^[2] On the other hand, behavioral expectations and nuances in social interactions are much harder to grasp. Alice’s greeting is the cherry on top of a culmination of experiences that may seem strange, and possibly even offensive, to Yune’s own cultural sense.

I found this little kiss especially memorable because of some loose parallels to my recent experiences. I have been in Taiwan for about five months now, which is longer than any of my other stays here since I left over a decade ago. The social attitudes, relationship maturities, and even some general behaviors are all just a bit unlike what I am used to.

While rarely is there anything so pronounced as Alice’s cheek kiss—the cultural clashes are a little subtler than that—I am still reminded of how someone described me a few months ago. In her accented English, she said I was very “aggressive.” She had further thought that quality stemmed from a fundamental difference in our cultural attitudes and approaches (though I am not sure that culture entirely accounts for this.) In her eyes, I am the super sexual, aggressive American, who loves to push past personal physical boundaries.

So when I saw Alice giving Yune that kiss, I smiled. What seems so natural to Alice may actually be a forceful sexual advance to Yune.

Oh Alice, you are too aggressive~ ♥

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1. AJtheFourth talks a little bit about another slice of those details, baths—
   Finding an Oasis in a Foreign Labyrinth: Japanese Bathing Culture in Ikoku Meiro no Croisée.
2. More on the fashion spot in Ikoku Meiro no Croisée and culture—
   Paris Haute Croisée: Culture Fascination and Identity in Ikoku Meiro no Croisée.

I have often thought what separates an anime watcher from an anime fan is that the latter has a frame of reference for her tastes within the medium. She can tell a good anime from a bad one on a deeper level beyond entertainment values. Perhaps even… a connoisseur of the arts. ^[1]

“The connoisseur might be defined as a laconic art historian, and the art historian as a loquacious connoisseur.” - Erwin Panofsky

Tastes and history. I like to think those are the things we—the fans of anime—have over the average watchers, who have only ever seen Spirited Away once at the theater, or Sailor Moon as little kids. We have built for ourselves a context that is more specific than, say, all  visual entertainment, such that we are able to compare, distinguish, appreciate, and judge anime with an anime-specific standard. Utena, Maria-sama ga Miteru, Madoka, Totoro, and countless other favorites have shaped our expectations and tastes, and have elevated us to connoisseurs of anime (or maybe of a specific genre of anime).

A while ago, I was asked to write on a seemingly simple topic, “What makes a 10/10 anime?” ^[2]

At first, I wanted to approach the question as objectively as I possibly can—giving a long list of important factors: character development, animation, story, everything. However, in time I realized that would be a somewhat irrelevant exercise. After all, although we all have an anime-specific frame of reference, that frame is only specific to each individual. And, it is surprising just how incredibly specific our tastes can be.

Yes, I did not actually answer the question. Allow me to try again.

“What makes a 10/10 anime for you?”

After taking some time to look over my anime list and some of my past reviews, I think I have an answer. ^[3] My favorite anime need to clearly get across their vibes. Well-drawn characters, mind-blowing plots, gorgeous animation, and lovely romances are all nice things, but for me to really enjoy something, I need to get a sense of and immerse myself in an anime’s essence. Its ethos, so to speak.

This all sounds a little abstract, so let us look at an example, one of my favorites ever, Haibane Renmei. Haibane Renmei is a cute short series that is full of imagination; the series not only allows for so many different interpretations, but prompts the audience to explore them. Yet, what I enjoyed the most about Haibane Renmei has little to do with any of that. Rather, it is simply its atmosphere—a quaint small town that is wonderfully relaxing yet harbors just the tiniest sliver of angst, waiting to be discovered and calmed.

Some other favorites are clear in their ethos: Samurai Champloo and its anachronistic hip-hop beats, Ghost in the Shell and its urban digital future, Aria and its healing atmosphere. Now, let us, instead, take a look at one that is a little less obvious.

I doubt many anime fans would give Witch Hunter Robin a ten out of ten, but I love this anime. I love the lifestyle Robin has. Her quiet world, the classy bar, a secret job, and those relaxing days spliced with the occasional mystery and excitement all hold so much allure. I am a connoisseur, enjoying the fine tastes of that vibe.

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1. Be warned, there is an air of pretentiousness in this post.
2. This post is part of a blog carnival. Please check out the posts of others participating:
   Ace Railgun
   Anime B&B
   Anime Viking
   Draggle’s Anime Blog
   Ephemeral Dreams
   Hachimitsu
   Leap250′s Blog
   Lemmas and Submodalities
   Mainichi Anime Yume
   Nopy’s Blog
   One Minute of Dusk
   The Otaku’s Study
   World of Yamaguchi Hoshiko
3. Here is my MAL profile, for all those interested.

As kids, ideally and realistically, we were taught that the prince should always be the one saving the princess and not the other way around. And even in harem genre, regardless of how pathetic the male character is, for some reason there’s always that monumental moment wherein the guy rescues the female lead. Come to think of it, it doesn’t seem natural if the prince is the one being saved by the princess. Isn’t it?

So let’s take for instance Ouran High School Host Club. Apparently, this anime isn’t going to be labelled as gender bender unless Haruhi didn’t act like a guy. Nevertheless, staying true to the fairytale structure, this reverse harem revolved around how every guy in the club tried to help, comfort, and save Haruhi. Well indeed, she chased Tamaki in order to save the club and to stop him from marrying someone he doesn’t love. However, what made it believable and idealistic was the fact that by the end of the story, Haruhi was heroically saved by Tamaki as she dramatically fell off the bridge.

If we’re going to notice, most anime followed the similar romance structure over and over. Indeed, one might say that anime is constantly bending the “laws” of genders and sexualities; however that doesn’t take away the fact that these are viewed as taboos. Aside from that, little we noticed, these fairytale stories have that spellbinding enchantment which dictates the “order” of things and what is considered as natural. Believe it or not, the magic and romance of these stories also exist even in science and highly influenced us on how we created our socially accepted ideologies of sexualities and genders.

In a nutshell, it is apparent that the validity of cultural assumptions about masculinity and femininity is strongly legitimized by science. It was said that for decades, biologists patterned the explanation of the fertilization process on a fairytale. Plus, scientific thought has been shaped by a binary world view in which sex opposes gender, male / female, mind / body…. The language of these dualisms leads to an understanding of the world in terms of opposing pairs—like husbandos and waifus.

For instance, back in high school, some biology textbooks depicted sperm as fearless warriors battling their way to an aging, passive egg that can do little but await the sturdy victor’s final, bold plunge. Aside from that, several authors exemplified how the egg’s role is likened to that of Sleeping Beauty: “a dormant bride awaiting her mate’s magic kiss, which instills the spirit that brings her to life.” Sperm, by contrast, have a “mission,” which is to “move through the female genital tract in quest of the ovum.”

In other words, this fairytale-ish unification of the egg and the sperm, presents an excellent paradigm of the embedded beliefs that influenced biology through language and metaphor. Likewise, biology naturalized and shaped these cultural assumptions and gender roles—which aren’t necessarily true—by extracting such stereotypic behaviours of who must be and what it’s like to be feminine (passive) and masculine (aggressive).

Arguably, we might find reverse harem to be more believable than harem, in most cases, because of how genders are performed—“the prince saves the princess” notion. But that’s only because if we’re going to think about it, fairytales do come true only if we conditioned ourselves to believe it and make it happen.
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About the Guest Author:
A long time friend of Listless Ink, SnippetTee writes fascinating, highly intelligent, and profoundly analytic posts. It is my pleasure to bring some of that ease, style, clarity, and depth over from Lemmas and Submodalities.

Love is a strange thing, indeed. From the charming confessions to ginger kisses to steamy sex, love acts are widely varied and allows us to express our feelings in so many different ways. All these cute (or sexy) displays of affection tickle our hearts or make us go d’awww all over these interactions, rightly so. However, there seems to be one basic act that seems to have gone unnoticed and under-appreciated in anime: holding hands.

We all know those extremely cute doki-doki moments in anime when a girl is embarrassed wanting to hold hands with her boyfriend, or vice-versa. The same can be said for yuri and BL couples as well, though they are viewed differently compared to their heterosexual counterparts. A yuri couple holding hands in public would be seen as regular friends and as such, people would not cause a big fuss about this matter unless their relationship is clearly defined and shown. A BL couple holding hands would be seen rather differently, with some people just outright overreacting over this small act.

So why hold hands at all? As it turns out, there is some science involved with this simple act of love! It’s all due to the so-called “love hormone,” oxytocin. When one comes in contact with a loved one’s hand, the soothing touch actually calms down the parts of the brain that deal with stress and pain, acting along the same pathways that a pain killer would. In effect, this means that the body and the brain doesn’t have to work as hard, since just the comfort and warmth of a loved one’s or even a stranger’s hand can help ease one’s mind.

Another factor in wanting to hold hands is also the feeling of wanting to lead, comfort, or protect your loved one. This small act of intimacy shows a strong bond of trust between the lovers, and the lovers themselves can take solace in the knowledge that they are there for each other. For yuri and BL couples, by holding hands, they can take comfort in the knowledge that even if their world is against them, they know that their partners will be there for them.

This may be very common in manga, but for anime generally, it doesn’t seem like there are plenty of scenes with cute couples holding hands. They don’t always portray the small cute acts of physical affection, such as a character sleeping on another’s lap, cuddling, sneaking teasing glances, flirting, etc. It could be that in Japan, public displays of affection isn’t that common culturally, or maybe because we, the viewers, just want to get right to the heart of the romantic action with the couple overcoming their struggles in their relationship.
Well in any case, it’s amazing how one simple act of love can ease two people’s minds!

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About the Guest Author:
Ephemeral Dreamer is a fellow anime blogger, who writes, with on a variety of topics, ranging from the smallest details to profound analysis. It is a delight to have Ephemeral Dreamer as a guest author to share a bit of those insights and keen sense for ideas that make Ephemeral Dreams such a wonderful read.

Over the weekend, with a bit of hesitation and a lot of curiosity, I started reading Usagi Drop. People had warned me against the manga when I first finished the anime adaptation. I was thoroughly impressed by the short twelve-episode series. So the hints of a very controversial, and perhaps even hated, manga ending come as a surprise.

Yet a few chapters into the latter half of the manga (after the ten-year time skip), the direction of Usagi Drop has already become increasingly clear. The previously impossible ending becomes not only possible, but something that could even be authentic. Indeed, I quickly realize that (spoiler alert) Daikichi and Nitani (Kouki’s mother) would have never worked out, and nor would have Rin and Kouki.

The disappointments many feel of the much maligned ending likely stem from two related things: Daikichi and Nitani do not become a couple, and instead Rin and Daikichi do. I find neither point controversial nor unexpected once I have immersed myself into the life of high school Rin.

True, throughout most of the series, Daikichi and Nitani seem absolutely perfect for each other in every way. Both are single parents raising a child of the same age. Their children are best friends. The two struggle through parenting and other hardships together; they complement each other’s strengths and weaknesses. And there is real chemistry between the two. Yes, they would make the perfect couple.

But, this is Usagi Drop, a manga that is not so much about the heartwarming aspects of life as it is about the harsh realities. And though the manga tries to play everything small—a story involving a mere few characters with common life crises—it cuts hard.

This approach is evident very early on in the series. Take for example, one of my favorite arcs from the anime: Haruko runs away from home with Reina because of pressures from her in-laws and other marital problems. The resolution of the arc is semi-happy at best. Haruko returns home after having found her inner strength, but her initial issues with the family are never addressed. (Years later, Haruko would divorce her husband.)

Life is all about compromises, and Usagi Drop is kind enough to show us that. This is no blind romantic comedy, in which everything works out and two people who, from all other’s perspectives, should be together live happily ever after. No, sometimes, or rather most times, things do not work out the way the romantics hope they would. Daikichi and Nitani could never be together because of their insecurities. And their children are the convenient excuses the two use to compromise their fears about reaching out. That Usagi Drop does not give us the lovey-dovey fantasy is beautiful in its stark yet realistic cynicism.

The same attitude toward relationships is applied to most other characters. Usagi Drop’s portrayal of romance is just slightly short of the kind of true love that popular media sells. Instead, what we see are a series of infatuations and insecure, wavering interests.

The most glaring example would be the budding “love” between Reina and Kouki’s friend:

“If I’m confessed to by a much cooler person, I’ll be troubled. By someone like a tall looker, or similar?” -Reina

This item is certainly not lasting long.

Again, despite the slightly bitter approach to relationships, the emotions are depicted so authentically. The dating games—and what really is “love” but a series of exhausting games—are realistically decorated with all the right feelings: uncertainty, vanity, dissatisfaction.

Further, Daikichi and Nitani are too scared to go after their desires. Reina is unsure that Takeuchi is the best choice, because, let us admit, most people are shallow. Kouki puts himself in the friend zone and eventually loses Rin’s interest. The vanilla, expected pairings are all doomed to fail.

In this context, we can rationalize the “incestuous” ending. Jaded about relationships due to her fall-out with Kouki, and having never been too intimate with other men before—Kouki’s charms can be pretty possessive—Rin turns her emotions to the only other man in her life for her rebound. The feelings may have started out as a mere subconscious joke that would then turn into a conscious possibility. The more Rin entertains this possibility, the more real it becomes. Moreover, the more doubt she has about this forbidden love, the more she desires it. It is simply human nature to want what we cannot have. That Daikichi, in the last few chapters, makes Rin wait until graduation—essentially playing hard-to-get—only solidifies Rin’s resolve.

Interestingly, we never get a strong sense of whether Daikichi feels about Rin in that way as well. We see him consider the possibility and worry about the consequences; yet we do not see him exhibit the signs of someone in love—at least, not to the same extent as he has shown when he is with Nitani. Perhaps somewhat ironically, that Daikichi is much more ready to let go of this new romance may just help glue the relationship together. Rin will have to continue to chase him, and thus, continue to be interested. I suppose in this way, Usagi Drop does build quite a happy, optimistic ending, despite the incestuous vibes.

The “incest,” while integral to much of the criticisms of the ending, is not exactly the emphasis of Usagi Drop’s ending. The social consequences are easily resolved by a convenient plot twist—Rin and Daikichi are not blood-related. ^[1] What Usagi Drop instead wants to fully explore are the various subtle nuances that the characters feel about relationships and love: the insecurities, infatuations, muddled ideas, and gray areas. Incest is only one of the many plot devices to showcase the rather authentic portrayal of how we approach love. And, there are few manga that do so lovelier and more painfully than Usagi Drop. ^[2]

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1. Personally, I found the extra step Usagi Drop takes to address the blood-related issue a bit unnecessary. The manga could have worked even if Rin is Daikichi’s aunt. But that is a discussion for another time perhaps. (Besides, my thoughts on incest are quite liberal.)
2. This post reads quite bitter. Maybe even more bitter than Usagi Drop.

I would be totally fine if they at least showed something like this throughout the show's run. We all know how Homura truly feels about Madoka.

On my blog, I think I’ve mentioned that I have some yuri-tinted goggles, but since I like keeping a lot of things in rather than letting them out, I don’t say the extent of my thoughts. Like when one girl says something along the lines of “I’ve been watching you so much, I don’t need to see you to paint a picture of you” to another. Or knowing that behind the appearances of one girl antagonizing another by constantly interrupting her time by herself lies a strong relationship between the two that I wish could be “something more”. Or hoping that when one girl declares her strong emotions for another (and I wish they tamp it down a bit, since the target gets it already), the other actually responds in kind. Or believing that that “touchy-feely” person is more so for that “one special someone” than anyone else. Or going “Kiss! Kiss!” in my head as two girls get closer to each other. Or thinking to myself “hopefully someone picks up on this idea and makes a fanfiction using these two” far too often. Or hopefully someone draws a picture of the pairing. Or does both. That would be awesome.

But aside from the above paragraph, I tend to keep this stuff under wraps since it feels “wrong” to me. It makes me question myself, wondering if it’s just for titillation, or to see if there can be a comfortable yuri relationship that’s part of a show, but not defining it show (unless it’s the main point). It tends to be somewhere in the middle though, which makes me happy to see shows like Aoi Hana or Kanamemo, and it’s the best of both worlds when I read manga like Girl Friends and Octave that both explore the relationship while showing all aspects of it (if you know what I mean ). But when I watch Marimite, and think to myself “this is nice and all, but I wish there was more ‘honest’ actions between the characters”, or think that Azusa should be more truthful about her feelings with Yui in K-On! (the Doujin “Yui and Azusa’s Love Song” is awesome, BTW), I feel a little dirty inside.

Self-explanatory.

Part of it is feeling like I’m denigrating the work somehow by trying to imagine something that isn’t there, or that I’m desecrating it for trying to use it for something that at least wasn’t the explicit intent of the work. Or that I might just be looking at a lesbian relationship in drawn/animated form as something titillating rather than something more substantial and thoughtful. Other parts of it are conceited thoughts that this isn’t the type of thing I should be thinking about in the first place, nor that I want to be seen in the same light as some of the more overzealous yuri fans that freely give their opinions without considering how willing people are to receive them.

Sae and Hiro are too obvious. This pairing has a little more challenge to it.

Sure, they’re all subjective reasons, not to mention silly in other ways. And besides, I may say that I don’t want to lose myself to the point where I’m like Chitose in Yuru Yuri (though I totally admire her passion and intensity, in many ways), but I often let flights of fancy dance around in my head if a hint of a serious possibility occurs on screen.  Never to be heard outside. Except maybe obscure hints in a Tweet or three. Or buried in a blog or forum post somewhere. To the point where one could see between the lines if they wanted to, but never enough to feel like they haven’t wasted time doing so. It’s unnecessarily tedious, to be sure.

But I think this self-imposed guilt is also a way to keep me from getting my hopes up too much. There’s a worry that it clouds how I appreciate the anime I watch/manga I read as well; that these thoughts help make a show better in my eyes or worse in my eyes if they play up subtext or not.  I feel like I’ve come to expect honest emotion, “realistic” struggles in life, and a more open perspective on relationships from anime/manga that I’ve read and watched featuring lesbian couples.  It could be the “rarity” of the situation, or how these relationships are still controversial at times, and as such are handled more seriously in many cases (and I can’t deny that it’s more aesthetically pleasing to me when issue deals with 2 females rather than 2 males). When I believe I see subtext somewhere, I feel like there’s a chance that this could be an added dimension to the work, rather than something that the creators put in because it knows they’ll draw people like me in. Though it’s true that there’s a lot of good and bad examples of works with yuri couples, as well as several works that have yuri and don’t take it seriously at all, I’m seeing too much into things and thinking too hard about them.

And because it shouldn’t really be this serious for me, I don’t think it’s bad to take a step back and check myself before I start having delusions again.   Or at least try to stop myself from doing so. Like wishing that Ohana actually did get her chance to “sparkle”, dammit.

But in the end, just like Chitose, I don't think I have any regrets going down this path.

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About the Guest Author:
TheBigN heads Drastic My Anime Blog, where he, along with other authors, writes intelligent, personal, and dissecting posts. It is a wonderful opportunity to have his thoughts here.

“Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to be used by you
Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them want to be abused”
            – Sweet Dreams by Eurythmics

A lot of physical abuse happens in Working!!, but it’s neither out of sadism nor masochism. Inami Mahiru, who habitually flogs men on site, curses her innate talent for harming others. None of her victims enjoy getting hit, either—not the least bit love-interest protagonist Takanashi Souta, who’s trying to help her learn to stop hitting people. It’s only through comedic misunderstanding that his sister comes to think he’s a masochist. But there’s at least one BDSM relationship in the series.

Not quite…

It’s a relationship concerning the D/S part in particular (dominence/submission), between Wagnaria’s manager Shirafuji Kyouko and her chief of staff, Todoroki Yachiyo. Yachiyo has been infatuated with Kyouko since they were in elementary and high school respectively, thanks to a time when Kyouko rescued Yachiyo from some bullies and then asked to be compensated with food. Somehow, the fact that Kyouko demanded compensation seemed cool to Yachiyo, and she fell in love. Now, the two of them work together, and Yachiyo spends much of her time fretting over Kyouko and bringing her parfaits.

Mostly, Yachiyo’s affection appears one-sided, as Kyouko remains aloof. It seems like she’d let anyone be her food slave, and indeed is kinder to anyone who brings her food. However, there’s one instance wherein Kyouko asserts her dominance over Yachiyo specifically.

It’s possible that Kyouko said this just to keep the peace, since the situation was about to turn violent, and is just manipulating Yachiyo’s affection. It’s also possible that Kyouko doesn’t regard her slaves as having exclusivity over her, which Yachiyo probably wouldn’t be happy about. But that’s kind of the point—Kyouko is selfish and manipulative, which is why she’s dominant to begin with. It is the slave’s dilemma that the very things which they find attractive in their master are the things that restrain their own desires. Brutal, and beautiful. Poetic, even.

Working!! is a sadly one-dimensional series that will probably never really explore this relationship at length. However, at least it gives us more than enough concrete evidence that Yachiyo is genuinely in love with Kyouko and not just faux-lesbian by way of comedy. If nothing else, we can leave it to our imagination that these two will continue their long-standing BDSM relationship far into the future, and maybe on a deeper level one day~

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About the Guest Author:
A prolific and well-established blogger, 21stcenturydigitalboy writes with a passion and a very distinct voice.  His thoughts are always a delight to read, and I am fortunate to have this opportunity to play host to them. 21stcenturydigitalboy blogs at My Sword Is Unbelievably Dull.

For all its overly sweet visual glamour and historical inaccuracies, Gosick has a surprisingly dark and compelling plot. To be fair, even I had been quite vocal about some of its outstanding weaknesses—in addition to the earlier amateurish cases, the anachronistic fashion and aesthetics are especially jarring—but still, Gosick manages to weave together a sophisticated story. Set around 1924 Europe, the series opens with Kujo, a Japanese exchange student in Sauville, a fictional small state near France. When Kujo befriends an odd, secluded little girl, Victorique, the two unravel various mysteries that eventually lead to a darker web of political machinations and hidden secrets spanning generations. As well, the adventures reveal the mysterious background of Victorique, whose life has always been integral to those events present and past.

The complex puzzle of plots are wonderfully incorporated into the general historical context (with a few minor hiccups). At the cusp of World War II, Gosick ties the adventures of two children to the larger attitude changes facing a small nation with ambitious minds. The transition from the small scale mysteries to world-wide geopolitical schemes is, in fact, the strongest element of this series. Although I had previously scoffed at the simpleness of the earlier arcs, especially those locked-room mysteries, as the story deepens, I found myself inexplicably drawn into the more intense reveals as well as all the questions that necessarily come with these revelations. Of particular note are the urban myths and fairy tales. These, upon first glance, seem to be mere symbolic stories. However, as the story continues, their significance and parallels become more obvious. The little stories, along with other threads, are wonderful motifs that string together and push forward the seemingly disparate subplots. And, By the end of the series, Gosick would have the audience completely immersed in its pace and its story.

Similarly, the tone shift flows with a wonderful delicacy. Gosick begins with a fairly light attitude toward its murders; it feels not unlike a children’s detective story à la Scooby Doo. Sure, there are murders and other serious crimes, but these are easily diluted by the adorable Victorique, flowery setting, and easiness of story. Yet even in the first scene, the seeds of darker themes are subtly planted. For example, the myths and the brief explorations into Victorique’s past are hints of a much grander and wicked story. Indeed, there is always an undercurrent of something far more serious that is, in hindsight, very evident. Thus, when the tone shift happens midway through the series, it feels very natural. The last arcs of Gosick deals with war, murder, cult mind, rape, and so many other terrible aspects of humanity. It feels completely different from the comical and almost-immature mysteries of the first arcs. Yet, there is no single jarring turning point in mood.

With such an involved and fluid story come fairly solid character developments. Victorique and Kujo are both delightful to watch. Although Kujo is often fairly bland, and at times, especially in the early episodes, leans on the chauvinistic side (which is one of my biggest pet peeves about male leads), the story and Victorique make him somewhat tolerable, perhaps even likable. On the other hand, Victorique is the clear star of Gosick. She, sitting at the heart of all the subplots, not only drives the series, but she gives the anime its fantastic personality. A cute little loli with an unparalleled brilliance, Victorique packs a very distinct and colorful set of traits. Moreover, as we delve into her past, her mystery only makes her that much more fascinating, so much so, in fact, that she brightens up all the other characters (yes, including the slightly boring, cliché Kujo), as well as give the story that extra liveliness.

However, even with all the intrigue surrounding Victorique and the plot, Gosick falls slightly short of making a lasting, strong emotional impact. Perhaps our detachment to the anime is a result of the over-complications; there is always this sense of unreal to the mysteries and the characters, as super fun as they are. And, in the tiniest sense, the cutesy acts and plot twists tend to get a little bit exhausting after a while.

I guess, in that way, Gosick is kind of like cotton candy. It is overly sweet, delicious, and perfect for a brief short time. Yet by the end of it, one will not remember much of the flavor, and walks away with just the faintest discomfort, an icky feeling of the sticky textures on one’s teeth.

Well, on second thought, the sprinkles of adorable Victorique moments are more than enough to outweigh any flaws!

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Notes:

• The visuals and the costumes are one of the best parts of Gosick, and deserve yet another mention (despite the inaccuracies). Victorique’s clothes are so so gorgeous!
• It has been a while since I wrote anything. The past weeks have been one of the longest hiatus ever on this blog. Needless to say, life has its ups and downs. But I am super glad to be back. Love~

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More anime and manga reviews

When in a place that is completely foreign to them, especially for an extended period of time, people tend to seek out creature comforts that remind them of home. This way, even for a small moment, they can be connected with something familiar and comforting.

It may seem a wonder then that, in a series about a Japanese girl who moves halfway around the world to Paris, France, we rarely see our heroine, Yune, pine for home in Ikoku Meiro no Croisée. Instead, she decides to take the admirable and optimistic route of gamely trying everything that 1800s Paris has to offer, even if it means that she has to dip her cheese in soy sauce in order to stomach the taste. The viewer rarely sees her yamato nadeshiko mask slip. As Yi said in her previous post on fashion and haute couture, what Yune brings with her to Paris is not simply a wardrobe filled with cherry blossom lacquer combs and richly embroidered kimonos but her Japanese mind frame and attitude as well.

However, even Yune is not immune to refreshing herself with something a bit more familiar to her, and she does so in episode four, when she sneaks off at night, unsuccessfully, to take a bath.

For Yune a bath is not a means of cleansing herself, as Claude mistakenly labels the scene as such after accidentally walking in on her. Coming from a culture of onsen and communal bathing, Yune more than likely, as Oscar points out, has been longing for a bath for quite some time in order to relax and restore herself. In Japan, baths are not for cleansing oneself, but for respite and rejuvenation. (In fact, one is expected to clean their body before entering a bath, especially a public one. To not do so is considered extremely rude.) Public baths are also considered to be places where social barriers are somewhat lowered. While washing away the stress of the daily grind it becomes easier to talk to people regardless of their social status outside of the bath.

A bath means something completely different to Claude, who scolds Yune for wasting water. It is a luxury and a means of manipulation for Alice, who uses the bath as a lure in her attempt to force Yune to stay with her. At the climax of the episode, Yune eschews the comfort and familiarity of the bath in order to fulfill a promise that she made to Claude, once again reiterating her place as an ambassador of a social attitude. In context, when one considers exactly what that bath probably meant to Yune, it makes her determination in begging Alice that she be returned to Claude because of her promise (to make him dinner of all things) even more significant and poignant.

Traveling around the world to live in a place completely foreign is bound to make anyone long for the comforts of home, even for someone as determined and open-minded as Yune. What familiar things do you seek out after having spent some time in a foreign place?

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About the Guest Author:
AJtheFourth is a lovely friend who shares incredible insights on fascinating points. She is also just a wonderful person (with whom I’m in falling in love). She writes for The Untold Story of Altair & Vega, which, like her, has quickly become one of my favorites. Do make a visit there!