BotI: The Raskolnikovian Anotsu
Jun. 28th, 2010 08:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
"The Raskolnikovian Anotsu"
I figured I should follow up my Makie essay with an Anotsu essay, probably the first of a series. Here, I'll argue that Anotsu is a spiritual cousin of Ivan Karamazov (The Brothers Karamazov) and Rodion Raskolnikov (Crime and Punishment). These are all men whose passionately defended philosophy of defying traditional morals is somewhat at odds with their instinctive morality. If I placed these three on a continuum running from thought to action, I'd put Ivan on the "thought" end, Raskolnikov in the middle, and Anotsu on the "action" end.
At the middle of the curve, Raskolnikov exemplifies of the basic conundrum. He argues that a great man, in the pursuit of Napoleonic aims, is not constrained to follow the dictates of traditional morality. Putting his money where his mouth is, he kills two women for their money, which he intends to use for suitably epic purposes. Except he doesn't. Instead, he is wracked by guilt--and wracked by guilt over his guilt because he has himself convinced that his remorse over the murder is a sign of his weakness, and thereby hangs the tale (a tale that culminates in his settling down with a former prostitute, but that may just be coincidence).
Ivan, in contrast, is all talk. His dictum, "Everything is permitted" (see my Anotsu icon), is his rant against the injustice of God (or non-existence of God, depending on his mood). But while he refuses to relinquish this maxim, he does not act on it. In his daily life, his morality is fairly conventional. He is certainly not the murderer he claims it is acceptable to be. Indeed, his personal sense of justice is so acute that he is toweringly outraged over the suffering of children.
The conflict between professed belief and expressed belief in Anotsu is subtler. While he can be a thoughtful man, he is more a man of action. And he makes quite a solid attempt at enacting his professed ideal that "the sword justifies everything." In pursuit of "victory" and furthering the ideals of the Itto-Ryu, he can be brutal, as Rin will not soon forget. Yet he, too, shows signs of underlying, semi-unacknowledged awareness that his argument is fallacious.
To take an obvious example, Anotsu's philosophy justifies rape in the pursuit of victory. It's a weapon; a number of his followers use it. In fact, he pretty much orders his followers to rape Rin's mother. Yet I am fairly confident that he would never personally rape someone. He is instinctively not a sadist: though he enjoys fighting and the skill involved in vanquishing opponents, his instinctive pattern of interaction toward people is sociable and respectful.
Likewise, were he to apply the philosophy of the Itto-Ryu to Rin's quest for vengeance against him, the first thing he would do is kill her. She is his vigorously professed enemy. Removing her from his path would simplify his position and allow him to devote more time and resources to his overarching plans for Itto-Ryu ascendance. Now, in reality, given how many times she helps him, this may not be the case, but he initially has every reason to believe it would be. Yet he persistently refuses to move against her. He has clever explanations for this (she has potential; she may be Itto-Ryu one day, etc.), just as Rin has clever explanations for why she doesn't kill him (he's too strong to take on; he's too weak to take on, etc.). But on both their sides, there's a heavy element of rationalization. On his side, guilt (well hidden) seems to form part of his motive. He acknowledges that he did her great harm, an acknowledgement not inconsistent with Itto-Ryu philosophy, but he also accepts that, in some sense, he owes it to her to let her pursue him, and this is inconsistent with a philosophy whose primary aim is victory by very nearly any means. It seems Anotsu understands instinctively that he needs Rin as a conscience or a counterweight to his ambitions. Thus, when Hisoka ponders whether the Itto-Ryu is destructively self-righteous or able to admit the evil within itself, his mind immediately flashes to Rin. He can't fully articulate this, but it likely explains his consistent willingness to entertain her presence.
Like Raskolnikov and Ivan, he is a better man than his philosophy should make him. This is why Rin finds him so vexing. It would be easier for her if he were an insane bastard, like Kuroi, whom she would gladly rid the world of. But he isn't. In day to day life, when he's not actively fighting, plotting, or recruiting for the Itto-Ryu, he is generally quite pleasant. She tells him she's going to kill him, and he gives her some rice balls and money for sweet potatoes.
If Raskolnikov is wracked by guilt over his inconsistency, Anotsu (less a thinker) is less aware of it. He is not untroubled, however, hence his pensiveness when Hisoka questions the Itto-Ryu's morality. The Itto-Ryu promotes victory at any cost, yet Anotsu cannot shake off a countervailing attachment to honor. He can speak somewhat contemptuously of his own people as a "gang of ruffians" (vol. 10). Moreover, his concept of "honor" itself is torn between the forms of honor and a sense of real honor, both of which he values to an extent. This conflict goes back to his childhood and is well expressed by his grandfather. When young Anotsu accuses his grandfather of being dishonorable in planning to kill Makie to save face, his grandfather acknowledges that this may be so: "Maybe it's as you say, boy… But if they didn't question a samurai's bearing… I wouldn't have to live out my days as a greying nobody" (vol. 3). Thus, Anotsu is torn between three standards for moral behavior. He recognizes the value of saving face as a means to social station (his generally aristocratic bearing shows how much he has internalized this); he also disdains saving face at the cost of a truer sense of honorable behavior; yet, he also promotes an organization that professes little attachment to honor of any kind. His own sense of honor is at odds with his rejection of honor.
His tragedy is that as leader of the Itto-Ryu, he endorses, explicitly or tacitly, many behaviors, including rape and torture, that he cannot really consider acceptable. He would not himself do these things, but his philosophy that the sword justifies it permits him to turn a blind eye to viciousness. He is a basically good man, devoting his life to a movement that cultivates evils (though it has its virtues too). His inability to resolve--or even fully admit--this inconsistency leaves him with the responsibility for an accumulation of wrongs that he will one day have to face, whether by dying of them or living with them.
I figured I should follow up my Makie essay with an Anotsu essay, probably the first of a series. Here, I'll argue that Anotsu is a spiritual cousin of Ivan Karamazov (The Brothers Karamazov) and Rodion Raskolnikov (Crime and Punishment). These are all men whose passionately defended philosophy of defying traditional morals is somewhat at odds with their instinctive morality. If I placed these three on a continuum running from thought to action, I'd put Ivan on the "thought" end, Raskolnikov in the middle, and Anotsu on the "action" end.
At the middle of the curve, Raskolnikov exemplifies of the basic conundrum. He argues that a great man, in the pursuit of Napoleonic aims, is not constrained to follow the dictates of traditional morality. Putting his money where his mouth is, he kills two women for their money, which he intends to use for suitably epic purposes. Except he doesn't. Instead, he is wracked by guilt--and wracked by guilt over his guilt because he has himself convinced that his remorse over the murder is a sign of his weakness, and thereby hangs the tale (a tale that culminates in his settling down with a former prostitute, but that may just be coincidence).
Ivan, in contrast, is all talk. His dictum, "Everything is permitted" (see my Anotsu icon), is his rant against the injustice of God (or non-existence of God, depending on his mood). But while he refuses to relinquish this maxim, he does not act on it. In his daily life, his morality is fairly conventional. He is certainly not the murderer he claims it is acceptable to be. Indeed, his personal sense of justice is so acute that he is toweringly outraged over the suffering of children.
The conflict between professed belief and expressed belief in Anotsu is subtler. While he can be a thoughtful man, he is more a man of action. And he makes quite a solid attempt at enacting his professed ideal that "the sword justifies everything." In pursuit of "victory" and furthering the ideals of the Itto-Ryu, he can be brutal, as Rin will not soon forget. Yet he, too, shows signs of underlying, semi-unacknowledged awareness that his argument is fallacious.
To take an obvious example, Anotsu's philosophy justifies rape in the pursuit of victory. It's a weapon; a number of his followers use it. In fact, he pretty much orders his followers to rape Rin's mother. Yet I am fairly confident that he would never personally rape someone. He is instinctively not a sadist: though he enjoys fighting and the skill involved in vanquishing opponents, his instinctive pattern of interaction toward people is sociable and respectful.
Likewise, were he to apply the philosophy of the Itto-Ryu to Rin's quest for vengeance against him, the first thing he would do is kill her. She is his vigorously professed enemy. Removing her from his path would simplify his position and allow him to devote more time and resources to his overarching plans for Itto-Ryu ascendance. Now, in reality, given how many times she helps him, this may not be the case, but he initially has every reason to believe it would be. Yet he persistently refuses to move against her. He has clever explanations for this (she has potential; she may be Itto-Ryu one day, etc.), just as Rin has clever explanations for why she doesn't kill him (he's too strong to take on; he's too weak to take on, etc.). But on both their sides, there's a heavy element of rationalization. On his side, guilt (well hidden) seems to form part of his motive. He acknowledges that he did her great harm, an acknowledgement not inconsistent with Itto-Ryu philosophy, but he also accepts that, in some sense, he owes it to her to let her pursue him, and this is inconsistent with a philosophy whose primary aim is victory by very nearly any means. It seems Anotsu understands instinctively that he needs Rin as a conscience or a counterweight to his ambitions. Thus, when Hisoka ponders whether the Itto-Ryu is destructively self-righteous or able to admit the evil within itself, his mind immediately flashes to Rin. He can't fully articulate this, but it likely explains his consistent willingness to entertain her presence.
Like Raskolnikov and Ivan, he is a better man than his philosophy should make him. This is why Rin finds him so vexing. It would be easier for her if he were an insane bastard, like Kuroi, whom she would gladly rid the world of. But he isn't. In day to day life, when he's not actively fighting, plotting, or recruiting for the Itto-Ryu, he is generally quite pleasant. She tells him she's going to kill him, and he gives her some rice balls and money for sweet potatoes.
If Raskolnikov is wracked by guilt over his inconsistency, Anotsu (less a thinker) is less aware of it. He is not untroubled, however, hence his pensiveness when Hisoka questions the Itto-Ryu's morality. The Itto-Ryu promotes victory at any cost, yet Anotsu cannot shake off a countervailing attachment to honor. He can speak somewhat contemptuously of his own people as a "gang of ruffians" (vol. 10). Moreover, his concept of "honor" itself is torn between the forms of honor and a sense of real honor, both of which he values to an extent. This conflict goes back to his childhood and is well expressed by his grandfather. When young Anotsu accuses his grandfather of being dishonorable in planning to kill Makie to save face, his grandfather acknowledges that this may be so: "Maybe it's as you say, boy… But if they didn't question a samurai's bearing… I wouldn't have to live out my days as a greying nobody" (vol. 3). Thus, Anotsu is torn between three standards for moral behavior. He recognizes the value of saving face as a means to social station (his generally aristocratic bearing shows how much he has internalized this); he also disdains saving face at the cost of a truer sense of honorable behavior; yet, he also promotes an organization that professes little attachment to honor of any kind. His own sense of honor is at odds with his rejection of honor.
His tragedy is that as leader of the Itto-Ryu, he endorses, explicitly or tacitly, many behaviors, including rape and torture, that he cannot really consider acceptable. He would not himself do these things, but his philosophy that the sword justifies it permits him to turn a blind eye to viciousness. He is a basically good man, devoting his life to a movement that cultivates evils (though it has its virtues too). His inability to resolve--or even fully admit--this inconsistency leaves him with the responsibility for an accumulation of wrongs that he will one day have to face, whether by dying of them or living with them.