Review of Moribito : Guardian Of The Spirit

Minutes ago, I finished watching the anime series Moribito : Guardian of the Spirit, and so I thought I would capture my impressions of the series while they are fresh in my mind and have not been occluded by the passage of time and oh so many thoughts.

Wait, what was I talking about? Oh right… the show.

The basic thought is that the young prince of an Edo style kingdom has been chosen to bear the egg of a mighty water spirit within his soul. The boy’s mother, the queen, hires bodyguard Balsa (yes, just like the wood) to spirit the boy away from the royal palace so that he will be safe from his father (the Mikado), whom it is feared will be forced to kill his own sun in order to prevent the water spirit from being in line for the throne.

Seeing as, at the beginning of the series, the spirit is thought to be a demon, this is not entirely unreasonable.

So off they go, the ten year old prince and his tough as nails female bodyguard, Balsa, mistress of the spear. Off to flee the Mikado’s assassins.

At this point, I thought the show would be like Lone Wolf and Cub, a warrior and an innocent child versus hordes of bloodthirsty enemies, and the first five episodes bore this out. But then, out of the blue, they find a city and settle down, and it becomes an entirely different kind of show. One with very little violence, and a lot more character development, especially concerning the young prince.

This took me by surprise, and it took me a few episodes to get my bearings and realize that this was it, they were not going to start fighting again. This was now a show about Balsa raising the little prince incognito and teaching him how to survive in the real world.

That made me suspect something that I later found out to be true : the author is female. Had to be. Not because of the female lead, but because the style and pacing were so unlike the typical impatient male aggression based drama.

The show is hardly pacifist. There are some killer action scene wherenbsp; Balsa wields her spear in totally badass ways. She is definitely She With Whom Thou Shalt Not Fuck. But they are few and far between.

Once I made the adjustment to the unusual pacing and style, I quite enjoyed the show. The story is fascinsting and rich, it has good characters, the animation is quite good, and I really cared about Balsa and Prince Chagum and what befell them.

As I implied above, the spirit turned out not to be a demon after all, but a very important water spirit who was responsuble for all the rain in the kingdom. That raises a lot of questions, but this is fantasy, so we’ll just roll with it. This water spirit must die and be reborn every hundred years, and obviously if it failed to be reborn, it would cause a terrible drought, and millions would die.

So the secong half of the show’s 26 episodes are dedicated to learning about this, and how to make sure the young prince survives it.

One thing I liked was that the fearsome warrior Balsa has taken a vow to never use her skills to kill. She will not take a life. This is another thing that you will likely only get from a female writer. We men are far too easily caught up in our testosterone madness that demands our literary avatars dominate their adversaries in the fullest way possible by killing them.

But why kill when it can be avoided?

Another thing I really liked was the character Shuga. He is a palace scholar who discovers that the spirit is not a demon and that killing it would be Very Bad, and he ends up rebelling against the other scholars to get the truth out. He is gentle, intelligent, passionate, and very pretty, and I totally had a crush on him for the whole show.

He was also the show’s silver/white haired dude. Those seem to be mandatory in the shows I watch. There is always a silver haired dude with delucate bishonen features, a somewhat effeminate voice, and the manner of a gay elf.

Doesn’t matter the setting, and they might as easily be a villain as a good guy. But they are always there.

I can only assume they are there as fan service to the females and fags in the audience. If so, thanks!

What else… I enjoyed the overall gentle tone of the show. Gentle, but not wimpy or saccharine. Balsa does not baby Prince Chagum. Instead, she nurtures the strength within him, and stimulates his development of character. That doesn’t mean she is cruel or unnecessarily harsh.

It just means that she is always encouraging him to take that next step up the staircase of life. That, to me, is the right way to parent. Not only because it results in a tougher and braver child, but because it teaches the skills necessary for self-actualization. It teaches the child to always be prepared to do the next thing.

And that’s the secret of life, really. Doing the next thing.

There was some tiny things about the series I didn’t like. Plot elements were introduced as important then, in a later episode, dismissed with some offhand dialogue. There were a bunch of small logical inconsistencies, but that’s par for the course, as is the fact that the ending was not very satisfying.

I am really picky about my endings. Comes from having such an overdeveloped sense of narrative, I suppose.

But all in all, it’s a great show as long as you are not expecting it to be filled with battles and violence and really clear villains. It is instead a story of childhood, nurturing, survival, magic, romance, and it is all written with a great deal fo wisdom, compassion, and heart.

I recommend it.

And I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.

Myth and practical storytelling

We have been studying the myths and legends of world cultures (not our own, because of course, we don’t have myths, we have God’s own truth) for at least 200 years now. And much excellent work has been done by talented and insightful scholars who have put a great deal of time and effort into piercing the veil of illusion that all culture inevitably develop.

But one aspect, it seems to me, is always missing from the analysis : that myths and legends are, primarily, stories.

That’s all they are. Sure, they might be a lot of other things, and they certainly serve many other functions, but their fundamental nature is still that of an oft-told tale, and as such, is bound by the rules of narrative.

I am sure that nothing I have said is particularly shocking so far. Even if they don’t use the same terms, and the fact that Mythology and Literary Analysis are two entire different faculties with professors to support, I am sure that I could get grudging agreement from both that a myth is a story.

I mean, what else could it be? A tone poem?

They might even agree that the tools of literary analysis can be quite useful when applied to myths and legends.

But I am not here to talk about literary analysis. That’s theory. What I want to talk about tonight is the other end of the spectrum : practice. Namely, the effect of the nature of storytelling on the myths and legends of the world.

Human beings love to tell stories. There is no denying that. And when we tell our stories, we want them to be received by an attentive and interested audience. We want to entertain, amuse, touch, or otherwise move our audience, and we want to be praised and thanked for that story.

In the modern era, where the line between fiction and nonfiction is not only established but very important, what that means is that mass media tends to focus on the trinity of story appeal : sex, violence, and betrayal.

But if we travel further back to before the printing press and mass literacy, not to mention mass transit, most people didn’t go far from their home village, and storytelling was not concerned with fiction versus nonfiction. It didn’t really matter much of a stranger’s story about far off lands or great heroes were true or not. A good story was a good story, and people could believe it or not, as suited them. Either way, nothing in their life would change.

And this extends all the way back to the glory days of early civilization, and probably beyond. Whether you are a caveman recounting the day’s hunt and maybe embellishing a few details to make your story better or a high priest of Amin in ancient Egypt, when you told your stories, you were probably keenly aware of the effect on your audience.

And so, as this myths are retold, either by a religion or just that nice fellow at the end of the bar who will entertain you for hours if you buy his drinks for him, the stories change in order to gain mass appeal.

That’s why pre-Christian mythos is so full of that dark trinity : sex, violence, and betrayal. And often, the further back you go in the mythos, the more violent and primal it gets because it is mirroring the rise of civilization and retelling that story, of emergence from primal forces and growing into who you are today, in a way that was appealing to people.

Christianity broke that mold…. sort of. A casual perusal of the Old Testament will reveal that there is a ton of freaky sex and horrible violence in it. That is because its content predates Christianity. It is a compilation of old myths and legends from early Judaism, as well as any other faith that got conquered by pre-Christians, and as such it represents the kind of stories that got passed around during that period.

So what do you get? All the juicy parts of popular storytelling. Not just sex, violence, and betrayal, but revenge, ambition, the rise and fall of great men and women, and all the other things that tickle our reptile brain fancies.

Once you grasp that these stories came not from the heavens but from the need to influence (perhaps even control) an audience, you can begin to understand that the content of them as we know it passed through the mouths and ears of many a storyteller hungry for audience approval.

There can be no “original source”, of course. It’s not like the gods told one person and then it got mucked up in the retelling. All of these myths came from somewhere, and my guess is, they came from some storyteller who was looking to captivate an audience with a really, really good story.

One that didn’t just entertain, it explained. Like I have said, it can be a very small jump between “this thing that might have happened for all anyone knows” to “this thing I just told people probably happened”, and another even smaller jump to “everyone believes it happened now…. clearly I am divinely inspired, receiving direct truth!”.

Remember, this is before we had any idea that there was such a thing as a subconscious mind. All mental activity was equally mysterious. So when you are waxing narrative over a spellbound audience, and you end up making up a whole extra chapter to the legends of Hercules in the process, well, where else could that have come from but the gods themselves?

And if the gods put it there, it must be true! It must have really happened. Suddenly the storytelling type person has a direct line to the gods.

If they keep that up, they can promote themselves to a new rank : the priest class, whose job it is to tell you what the god(s) want and do not want.

And then the storytellers gain real power.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.