Recently,
I watched Myself;Yourself, which is
an interesting show. Yes, that is quite vague, so let me be more specific. (Looking at you, Justin.) Myself; Yourself (henceforth abbreviated as M;Y) features very bland art, bad character design, and often
mediocre characterization though the plot never descends into utter madness and
the music is rather nice. The story at least never achieves the illogical
abysses conjured in H2O:
Footprints in the Sand, which somehow manages to take advantage
of the viewer’s inability to see the most preposterous ending occurring.
If you have seen my previous two writings on
this show, you can tell that I am conflicted with the show. After all, how does
one weight interesting themes with inconsistent character quality and bad
writing? I’m biased towards interesting themes, so I must concede that I liked
the show. But rather than detail how I felt about every aspect of the show,
this piece will be a focused thematic reflection.
Though comparatively tame, M;Y erupts into multiple intertwining stories occurring simultaneously in the last quarter of the show. Asami, it transpires, feels unrequited love for Shuri, a fact that does not arise until Asami shields Shuri from a seemingly normal old lady seeking a sacrifice to bring back her dead granddaughter. Asami’s emotions are contrasted by Shuri and Shuu’s escape from their abusive father, an act that seems entrenched in the siblings’ mutual love. Shuu extends beyond the normal role of brother to offer his hand (symbolically and literally), which adds to this effect. Their act of holding hands when beyond the control of their father further betrays this romantic affection, for no matter how close siblings are, handholding in such a manner is unnatural.
Though comparatively tame, M;Y erupts into multiple intertwining stories occurring simultaneously in the last quarter of the show. Asami, it transpires, feels unrequited love for Shuri, a fact that does not arise until Asami shields Shuri from a seemingly normal old lady seeking a sacrifice to bring back her dead granddaughter. Asami’s emotions are contrasted by Shuri and Shuu’s escape from their abusive father, an act that seems entrenched in the siblings’ mutual love. Shuu extends beyond the normal role of brother to offer his hand (symbolically and literally), which adds to this effect. Their act of holding hands when beyond the control of their father further betrays this romantic affection, for no matter how close siblings are, handholding in such a manner is unnatural.
Asami’s
“forbidden love” is then defeated by incest, which also constitutes forbidden
love. Asami’s feelings are made bittersweet as a result of feeling unrequited
non-heterosexual love, which arguably constitutes some of the lowest love in
society. Both aspects (unrequited, non-heterosexual) are individually reviled but the combination is then
considered far more pathetic, as evidenced by Shuri’s complete rejection of
Asami’s emotions. Despite that, Asami manages to save Shuri from being killed,
which makes the situation even more difficult by indicating Asami’s true
feelings. In the end, Asami is offered the least solace, though she does gain
conclusion by confronting Shuri – this encounter causes Shuri to run away crying,
reflecting a strong exchange.
Nanaka
and Sana, despite their rocky relationship in Episode 1 (no I won’t show the
picture again), are able to share their love after Sana helps Nanaka overcome
her PTSD that prevented her from accepting Sana or resuming playing violin. The
image of Nanaka playing the first song she wrote on violin – shown in flashback
in episode 1 – creates an empowering representation because it indicates her
ability to overcome her bad memories. Sana’s marriage proposal goes over well
following the concert, thus they become engaged, reflecting the idyllic form of
love favored in society. Though Shuu and Shuri share forbidden love, their
mutual emotions are elevated over Asami’s unrequited feelings as a result of
their acting upon the desire to run away together.
The
last quarter of the show reflects love from the most prized (Nanaka and Sana)
to that which is not prized but not cast aside (Shuu and Shuri) to the least
valuable (Asami) from society’s perspective. These intertwining stories manage
to place Asami’s desires in the background – they are invisible unless
intentionally found. A hierarchy of love is then established clearly. Perhaps
Asami moved on but that feeling of having to move on is quite painful and
scarcely better than feeling unable to love.
In
terms of her character, Myself;Yourself
is left broadly open because she only appears briefly for Nanaka’s concert at
the end of the finale. Of course, Aoi-chan is completely forgotten in the scheme
of love but she played more of comic relief anyways. Hinako is also cast aside
as another object unworthy of romantic affection. Thus we are presented with
major candidates and minor ones (Asami, Hinako, Aoi), which presents major
assumptions about how love operates. Certain characteristics are valued when
presented in a particular way. The show’s
most interesting themes are centered around love because around these are drawn
the major dilemma. In this regard, Gekkan
Shoujo Nozaki-kun (also by Dogakobo but orders of magnitude better) pairs
well with Myself;Yourself. The former
concerns itself with themes surrounding gender and the ridiculousness of
gendered conventions, while the latter prioritizes love, especially dramatic
love, and looking at the many forms of love.
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