Response to Mirage of Blaze, vol. 40
Dec. 14th, 2017 03:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
labingiNothing to see here unless you're a big Mirage of Blaze fan.
Spoiler-free synopsis: At the end of the epic, the story is a work of genius but, for me, Sensei did not quite stick the landing.
Response to Mirage Vol. 40 (12/14/17)
I’m going to have to respond to this volume (and the whole epic) by degrees. Here’s a start. About 48 hours after reading it, this volume is leaving me dissatisfied. Caveats: I’ve only read the summary once; it is a summary, not a translation, and—amazing summary though it is (thank you, Rina!)—I know I’m missing a lot. Moreover, Mirage is a story that takes sitting with, and I haven’t had time to fully sit with this. So I’m not trying to make a solid argument so much as giving my reader response right now.
Here’s the root of my trouble. While Rina’s excellent summary answered some questions I’ve long had—particularly about Nobunaga, Miroku, the other three Yashashuu—I was already spoiled for the basic Naoe/Kagetora plot, and for years, I had been hoping to have some gaps filled in for me. And they really weren’t.
For example, I had long wondered how Naoe’s revelation about Kagetora’s rape was going to play out in their interactions. Answer: Not. I wondered how the “Naoe lives forever” thing was going to work. Answer: it’s kind of glossed over. I wondered what it would be experientially like for Naoe to have the remains of Kagetora’s soul inside him. And I did end up with a better sense of that—but still pretty superficial.
Overall, I would say that the story building through the volume 30s was brilliant, and its development, for me, seems to have maxed out at volume 39. I don’t think Sensei quite stuck the landing. And, in fairness, fully and adequately wrapping up 40 volumes of this incredibly complex work written over many years—and I’m sure without the full story mapped out when she started—is a very tall order. To say I don’t think the ending is quite satisfying is no great criticism of the genius of the overall work.
That said, I feel three areas in which it doesn’t sit quite right for me. (And again, I’m sure some of this would be corrected upon reading a full translation.)
1. With regard to Nobunaga and Miroku, the development felt rushed. I’m still at sea about Miroku, so I’m going to skip him for now and talk about Nobunaga. Nobunaga ended up as a sort of foil for Kagetora. The parallel between their psyches was interesting and appropriate, and the general upshot of Nobunaga being saved/vanquished by the love of his sister, enabled by the lessons in love Naoe and Kagetora learned from each other, is really nice. But it feels like an outline rather than a fully developed story.
I suspect this is partly because I’m reading summary, but not entirely. To really stick this ending, the groundwork for delving into the inner heart of Nobunaga would, I think, have had to start significantly earlier. I’m sure I’ve missed many, many details, but it seems to me we first start getting serious background into his early life and formative events in volume 40—with shades in volume 39? 38? when his sister first seriously starts showing up. I think this would have sold better if we’d gotten more hints and snippets much earlier, maybe from the early 20s? (And maybe we do! This encompasses some of the stuff not yet summarized.)
In any case, based on what I’ve read, Nobunaga’s end feels a little unearned because the natural, organic development is not there in the way it’s there for Naoe and Kagetora, and even Kotarou or Ujiteru. Or in other words, it would sell better if I had been shown (not told) his relationship with his sister from fairly early in his introduction, even in small hints. (On a production level, I expect this may be because Sensei didn’t know exactly how she was going to develop and resolve Nobunaga till rather late, and that’s understandable.)
Side note: This is not a criticism of the story; it’s a criticism of Kagetora, and lovingly made: the bit where he tells Nobunaga that he just needs to find someone who loves him as Naoe loves Kagetora made me want to say on Nobunaga’s behalf, “Oh fuck off.” This is the sort of pop psychology I got from a fellow grad student one day when I was griping about how hard it was to meet met men. “I really believe there’s someone for everyone,” said this young woman fortunate enough to be married prior stepping into English grad studies, where women outnumber men 7:1 and all the men are already taken, always. Now, she meant it well, but it’s objectively not true—or if it’s true on some abstract, Platonic level, many people manifestly never meet that person. To wit, Naoes are really rare. And I know that Kagetora’s excited at having just found the true beauty of having a healthy relationship with Naoe and wants to preach it to the world, but honestly! It’s totally in character though. :-)
2. I feel that Naoe backslid in his psychological development, and this leaves me puzzled about the philosophical message of the whole story. The movement of the story, most obviously for Kagetora but for Naoe too, from volume 20 on is a movement away from their previous “ideal way of being” (i.e. locked in confrontation and competition and feeling threatened by each other but needing each other) to a healthier, less attached, more selfless and compassionate love. They become less needy and more at peace with themselves. Thus, they need each other less and love each other better for it. The story moves from an ideological stance that is somewhat counter-Buddhist to one that is much more in keeping with Buddhism, and it does so naturally and plausibly, without any devaluing of the epic, attached love that has gone before.
Again, this is clearer with Kagetora, but it’s true of Naoe too. It’s true in his very willingness to accept that Kagetora is going to die. True, he talks about how they won’t really be parted, and I think he long plans to take in whatever is left of Kagetora’s soul. It’s still not the same as having Kagetora fully there, and Naoe handles that surprising well.
But in the end, I feel left with a somewhat undeveloped Naoe. The upshot of all this seems to be that he’s going to live till the end of the Earth to prove to Kagetora the epic extent of his love. And this seems to miss the point, the point being that it’s not all about their epic love. There actually are other things; there’s an attitude toward the world that one can adopt that is compassionate and present in service to the world. Kagetora gives his life for this; this is a quality of his that Naoe longs to possess. And it seems like the natural flow of the story is toward Naoe literally internalizing this. And yet Naoe’s vow to continue as a kanshousha--which, however you apply it, is basically a violence against other living beings (be they fetuses or suicidal people or whatever)--seems to have missed that lesson. It would be different if there were some sense of mission for the greater good. But unless I’m really missing something, there’s not. So what are we meant to take away from this on a philosophical level?
There is one thing I really like though: Naoe, I have noted over the years, has a lot in common with Ivan Karamazov, and his Ivan-like spirit is on full display with the “I will live for a billion years to prove my love” thing. It’s very like Ivan’s “I will walk a quadrillion miles around the universe before I will accept God” thing. It’s a sort of hyper-hyperbole that both seem given to. :-)
As to the billions of years (taken literally), I can see it as one possibility, and I do love the scene a few volumes earlier when Naoe meets a possible future Naoe who has really done this. And I like that his love for/obsession with Kagetora is NOT the same after all that time. But I don’t buy that it necessarily will happen or that Naoe can possibly know he will be able to keep this vow. I mean, look how much his life changed in just 400 years—or, for that matter, five years, since vol. 1. It’s in character for Naoe (at least at a certain stage in his development) to talk that way, but I might wish that the text had provided some voice, a Nagahide or Haruie perhaps, to say something like, “It’s okay if that changes, and it would be okay with him.” Something to indicate to the reader an awareness of the impossibility of making that sort of vow. We can’t conceive of a billion years. All of written human history has only spanned about 5000.
On a minor note, I was a little disappointed in a similar vein that Haruie is still committed to the faith that she’ll meet Shintarou again someday. There’s nothing wrong with being open to the possibility, but I had hoped she was past seeing it as a necessity or cosmic inevitability. This feels like backward development too. Which brings me to…
3. This doesn’t feel like the end. Everything I’m griping about in number 2 would be completely fine if there were more of a sense of a story still in process—of people still in process. Naoe is at the very beginning of a very, very long grieving process. He’s going to feel different next year, different again in ten years, different again in thirty, and so on. Now, obviously, at some point, Sensei needs—and deserves—to stop writing, but if it’s going to end here, I would have preferred that it end with more sense of regard for the changes ahead. I would have preferred a sense that this is the beginning of the next stage on Naoe’s journey vs. a sort of end point at which he will just observe the world forever while proving his undying love for Kagetora.
It makes me wonder if Sensei has written anything past this point? I think I’ve only heard of prequels. And I understand going in that direction because it’s easier. It’s more familiar and, for all the agony, more comforting to be able to spend time with our two hapless lovers. This story beyond volume 40 is frightening, and I don’t think volume 40 itself is quite fair to how frightening it is.
(More to come, I’m sure. And I think my main griping is done—except the revelation about the rape stuff. I have minor griping about that. Fair warning.)
Spoiler-free synopsis: At the end of the epic, the story is a work of genius but, for me, Sensei did not quite stick the landing.
Response to Mirage Vol. 40 (12/14/17)
I’m going to have to respond to this volume (and the whole epic) by degrees. Here’s a start. About 48 hours after reading it, this volume is leaving me dissatisfied. Caveats: I’ve only read the summary once; it is a summary, not a translation, and—amazing summary though it is (thank you, Rina!)—I know I’m missing a lot. Moreover, Mirage is a story that takes sitting with, and I haven’t had time to fully sit with this. So I’m not trying to make a solid argument so much as giving my reader response right now.
Here’s the root of my trouble. While Rina’s excellent summary answered some questions I’ve long had—particularly about Nobunaga, Miroku, the other three Yashashuu—I was already spoiled for the basic Naoe/Kagetora plot, and for years, I had been hoping to have some gaps filled in for me. And they really weren’t.
For example, I had long wondered how Naoe’s revelation about Kagetora’s rape was going to play out in their interactions. Answer: Not. I wondered how the “Naoe lives forever” thing was going to work. Answer: it’s kind of glossed over. I wondered what it would be experientially like for Naoe to have the remains of Kagetora’s soul inside him. And I did end up with a better sense of that—but still pretty superficial.
Overall, I would say that the story building through the volume 30s was brilliant, and its development, for me, seems to have maxed out at volume 39. I don’t think Sensei quite stuck the landing. And, in fairness, fully and adequately wrapping up 40 volumes of this incredibly complex work written over many years—and I’m sure without the full story mapped out when she started—is a very tall order. To say I don’t think the ending is quite satisfying is no great criticism of the genius of the overall work.
That said, I feel three areas in which it doesn’t sit quite right for me. (And again, I’m sure some of this would be corrected upon reading a full translation.)
1. With regard to Nobunaga and Miroku, the development felt rushed. I’m still at sea about Miroku, so I’m going to skip him for now and talk about Nobunaga. Nobunaga ended up as a sort of foil for Kagetora. The parallel between their psyches was interesting and appropriate, and the general upshot of Nobunaga being saved/vanquished by the love of his sister, enabled by the lessons in love Naoe and Kagetora learned from each other, is really nice. But it feels like an outline rather than a fully developed story.
I suspect this is partly because I’m reading summary, but not entirely. To really stick this ending, the groundwork for delving into the inner heart of Nobunaga would, I think, have had to start significantly earlier. I’m sure I’ve missed many, many details, but it seems to me we first start getting serious background into his early life and formative events in volume 40—with shades in volume 39? 38? when his sister first seriously starts showing up. I think this would have sold better if we’d gotten more hints and snippets much earlier, maybe from the early 20s? (And maybe we do! This encompasses some of the stuff not yet summarized.)
In any case, based on what I’ve read, Nobunaga’s end feels a little unearned because the natural, organic development is not there in the way it’s there for Naoe and Kagetora, and even Kotarou or Ujiteru. Or in other words, it would sell better if I had been shown (not told) his relationship with his sister from fairly early in his introduction, even in small hints. (On a production level, I expect this may be because Sensei didn’t know exactly how she was going to develop and resolve Nobunaga till rather late, and that’s understandable.)
Side note: This is not a criticism of the story; it’s a criticism of Kagetora, and lovingly made: the bit where he tells Nobunaga that he just needs to find someone who loves him as Naoe loves Kagetora made me want to say on Nobunaga’s behalf, “Oh fuck off.” This is the sort of pop psychology I got from a fellow grad student one day when I was griping about how hard it was to meet met men. “I really believe there’s someone for everyone,” said this young woman fortunate enough to be married prior stepping into English grad studies, where women outnumber men 7:1 and all the men are already taken, always. Now, she meant it well, but it’s objectively not true—or if it’s true on some abstract, Platonic level, many people manifestly never meet that person. To wit, Naoes are really rare. And I know that Kagetora’s excited at having just found the true beauty of having a healthy relationship with Naoe and wants to preach it to the world, but honestly! It’s totally in character though. :-)
2. I feel that Naoe backslid in his psychological development, and this leaves me puzzled about the philosophical message of the whole story. The movement of the story, most obviously for Kagetora but for Naoe too, from volume 20 on is a movement away from their previous “ideal way of being” (i.e. locked in confrontation and competition and feeling threatened by each other but needing each other) to a healthier, less attached, more selfless and compassionate love. They become less needy and more at peace with themselves. Thus, they need each other less and love each other better for it. The story moves from an ideological stance that is somewhat counter-Buddhist to one that is much more in keeping with Buddhism, and it does so naturally and plausibly, without any devaluing of the epic, attached love that has gone before.
Again, this is clearer with Kagetora, but it’s true of Naoe too. It’s true in his very willingness to accept that Kagetora is going to die. True, he talks about how they won’t really be parted, and I think he long plans to take in whatever is left of Kagetora’s soul. It’s still not the same as having Kagetora fully there, and Naoe handles that surprising well.
But in the end, I feel left with a somewhat undeveloped Naoe. The upshot of all this seems to be that he’s going to live till the end of the Earth to prove to Kagetora the epic extent of his love. And this seems to miss the point, the point being that it’s not all about their epic love. There actually are other things; there’s an attitude toward the world that one can adopt that is compassionate and present in service to the world. Kagetora gives his life for this; this is a quality of his that Naoe longs to possess. And it seems like the natural flow of the story is toward Naoe literally internalizing this. And yet Naoe’s vow to continue as a kanshousha--which, however you apply it, is basically a violence against other living beings (be they fetuses or suicidal people or whatever)--seems to have missed that lesson. It would be different if there were some sense of mission for the greater good. But unless I’m really missing something, there’s not. So what are we meant to take away from this on a philosophical level?
There is one thing I really like though: Naoe, I have noted over the years, has a lot in common with Ivan Karamazov, and his Ivan-like spirit is on full display with the “I will live for a billion years to prove my love” thing. It’s very like Ivan’s “I will walk a quadrillion miles around the universe before I will accept God” thing. It’s a sort of hyper-hyperbole that both seem given to. :-)
As to the billions of years (taken literally), I can see it as one possibility, and I do love the scene a few volumes earlier when Naoe meets a possible future Naoe who has really done this. And I like that his love for/obsession with Kagetora is NOT the same after all that time. But I don’t buy that it necessarily will happen or that Naoe can possibly know he will be able to keep this vow. I mean, look how much his life changed in just 400 years—or, for that matter, five years, since vol. 1. It’s in character for Naoe (at least at a certain stage in his development) to talk that way, but I might wish that the text had provided some voice, a Nagahide or Haruie perhaps, to say something like, “It’s okay if that changes, and it would be okay with him.” Something to indicate to the reader an awareness of the impossibility of making that sort of vow. We can’t conceive of a billion years. All of written human history has only spanned about 5000.
On a minor note, I was a little disappointed in a similar vein that Haruie is still committed to the faith that she’ll meet Shintarou again someday. There’s nothing wrong with being open to the possibility, but I had hoped she was past seeing it as a necessity or cosmic inevitability. This feels like backward development too. Which brings me to…
3. This doesn’t feel like the end. Everything I’m griping about in number 2 would be completely fine if there were more of a sense of a story still in process—of people still in process. Naoe is at the very beginning of a very, very long grieving process. He’s going to feel different next year, different again in ten years, different again in thirty, and so on. Now, obviously, at some point, Sensei needs—and deserves—to stop writing, but if it’s going to end here, I would have preferred that it end with more sense of regard for the changes ahead. I would have preferred a sense that this is the beginning of the next stage on Naoe’s journey vs. a sort of end point at which he will just observe the world forever while proving his undying love for Kagetora.
It makes me wonder if Sensei has written anything past this point? I think I’ve only heard of prequels. And I understand going in that direction because it’s easier. It’s more familiar and, for all the agony, more comforting to be able to spend time with our two hapless lovers. This story beyond volume 40 is frightening, and I don’t think volume 40 itself is quite fair to how frightening it is.
(More to come, I’m sure. And I think my main griping is done—except the revelation about the rape stuff. I have minor griping about that. Fair warning.)
