Friday, August 28, 2015

Kokoro Connect and the Sanctity of the Body

/** I have decided to split this post up because I intend to write about this show in the future. I hope that this post is enjoyable, especially since I included some personal material too.**/

Watching Kokoro Connect (Silver Link)[1], an anime adaptation by Silver Link, I started thinking about the body as a concept. Even though many different works tackle questions regarding the body, I feel that Kokoroco[2] makes some interesting insights – the show is able to concisely but effectively tackle these themes because of the situations the characters (Figures 1, 2) are forced into. However, I hope to hone in on the first arc of the show, which can be termed the “body swapping” arc. This body swapping[3] phenomenon occurs between the five club members. Essentially, a person’s soul – or personality, whatever you will – is swapped with another soul, placing them in a different body. Body-swapping forces the club members to reconcile with the personal history of each other and physically with each other’s bodies.




Figure 1. Aoki (left) and Yui (right) depicted in Episode 1 of Kokoro Connect. As a side note, Aoki has a crush on Yui (and yes that is relevant to the story).


Figure 2.  Slightly bewildered Iori (left), angry Inaba (middle), and similarly perplexed Taichi (right) depicted in the same episode. They are reacting to the story being told by Aoi and Yui (Figure 1). Aoi and Yuki are reporting that they swapped bodies the previous night, which starts the body-swapping arc. Taichi has a crush on Iori (which is also relevant to the story – don’t question it! Gosh! Why would I lie!).

While in the classroom Iori body-swaps with Taichi (Figure 3). Looking down, he sees a skirt and realizes that he has transferred bodies with Iori. Taichi also sees that he is clearly alone in the classroom. Being a teenager in the body of the person he loves, Taichi does the obvious thing and gropes Iori’s breasts, acting impulsively. Though he thought he was alone, he learned that that was not the case – rather, he had been seen. An indirect result of this bystander is Taichi having to tell Iori about what happened – she responds by jokingly commenting that she has been violated. Though she is forgiving – cognizant that Taichi meant no harm – the act counteracts the sanctity of Iori’s body because the contact was unwanted. Though in this case, Taichi caused no damage, sometimes this unwanted contact can be quite harmful just not in an obvious way.


Figure 3. Taichi inside Iori’s body, as depicted in episode 1. Currently, Taichi is alone in the classroom, looking at Iori’s desk. (Iori had been searching for a notebook there.) While inside Iori’s body, he acts very differently than Iori would, which is rather suspicious.

This idea can be thought of generally as well. The possible violation of Iori’s body occurs beyond mere touch. When a body is controlled by another person then that body’s owner suffers damage to self-identity. Though the show is quite literal with body-swapping, there are other means of “controlling” another person. Applying strong pressure without touching someone is another way to control a person. The “being in charge” then gets to dictate a new identity over the old identity. Here Iori forgives Taichi, so this example is a mild case. However, being unable to control one’s corporeal essence gravely harms self-identity because the body plays an important role in a person’s personality and essence. Because of this role, I refer to the “sanctity of the body.”

Sanctity of the body can be split into two interrelated categories: physical sanctity and mental sanctity.  The former refers to being touched or control over one’s body physically. The latter refers to having control over one’s body through the mind/soul and can be more complex. For example, exerting pressure through words or actions may, potentially, violate this sanctity of the body even without a corporeal component. However, they are both interlinked, so they should not be talked about separately. Both play a role in the body being valuable. An example of the opposite would make this concept more obvious. A person could receive unwanted physical contact, such as touching, or undesirable communication, such as demeaning “compliments.”

Body-swapping disrupts the sanctity of the body in its entirety because someone other than the body’s owner assumes control. As a result, that person can do what they want. Inaba, playing the role of club leader, makes a similar realization and implores the other club members to be more considerate when they enter each other’s bodies; though her concerns are practical, they reveal that, through body-swapping, they may control their host in unnatural ways. This behavior may be going to the wrong bathroom, or even something more sinister, but ultimately it disrespect’s the person’s original inhabitant by forcing them into an unnatural routine that is potentially unwanted. Again, Taichi’s actions represent a great example of how this phenomenon can be abused. Through body-swapping, the show reveals that the body has a value far beyond not being touched; at the same time, it reveals that there are many ways to violate a person.  

After this discussion, I would like to spare some words, by way of a personal example, for the connection between the body and one’s being.  In my experience, as someone with a neuromuscular condition[4], I have had to think often about what it means to have a body that feels damaged – for me, I view the sanctity of the body as critically important because I feel so far from wholly comfortable with my body. My circumstance is rather different from many people, including the characters from the show, but it conveys the trauma of feeling truly, utterly violated. One earlier post featured my complaints about my hands (see: “Cursed Hands”, paragraph 1) but these complaints can be easily stretched over my entire body. When I feel anxious – and I am in this state often – I can feel my heart pounding; not a regular heartbeat, but rather a series of forceful contractions that cause my chest to vibrate. My legs feel sore and tight sometimes and often I have great difficulty; walking can seem ridiculously difficult at times. My feelings of physical discomfort and pain translate to my sensation that my body is damaged and grossly abnormal.

I would attribute my trauma to more than simply physical pain. Becker’s Muscular Dystrophy has an unexpected subtlety to it beyond the muscle complications: it impacts the brain directly, and plays a role in cognition (Cyrulnik and Hinton 2008). However, the muscular symptoms of BMD play a role in altering cognition and behavior as well. These combined effects put me at distance with my peers in a sense. Starting in preschool and continuing to this day, I have felt separated from others, especially those my age, because of my condition. Physical pain leads to mental anguish when you are the only one feeling it. Because I act differently – and this includes when I feel pain – I feel intentionally cut off. This discontentment is also caused by representations of persons with disabilities (PWD) in the media, and even in conversations. They are not prevalent in most art nor are they talked much about. Because of this culture – an atmosphere of not talking about disability at all – I feel further damaged and out of place. My trauma stems from these sources and many more; it is from my body’s metaphorical injury, aided by the physical pain and discomfort I do feel.

To me, my body is more than simply the assembly of organ systems I learned in anatomy classes but rather represents the full vehicle for my personality and self; this observation coincides with the lesson learned from the body-swapping phenomenon: that the violation of one’s body causes trauma. For me, this first arc is remarkably powerful allowing me to better understand myself and also the idea of the sanctity of the body.  The purpose of sharing one’s body – rather not just hiding and being a hermit – is respectful engagement with others in order to grow as a person. Through body swapping, the club members help each other overcome deep-seated trauma – especially in the case of Yui – which allows them to accept each other more deeply. Here Kokoro Connect cleverly and powerfully displays the critical value of a person’s body.

Works Cited
Cyrulnik, Shana E. and Veronica J. Hinton. “Duchenne muscular dystrophy: A cerebellar disorder?” Neuroscience and Biobehavioral Reviews 32 (2008): 486-496. Print.
Kokoro Connect. Silver Link, 2015. Anime. Perf. Miyuki Sawashiro.



[1] This show’s source is a light novel series of the same name.
[2] Shorthand for Kokoro Connect.
[3] Alternatively, soul-swapping but the show, at least according to the sub I watched, calls it body-swapping.
[4] Becker’s Muscular Dystrophy

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