#the urge to write essays about the religious symbolism in this show

[kuroshika]

i think people misinterpret what i mean when i say will is hannibal's god. we know hannibal is a religious man in the sense that he believes in gods, but does not pray to them.

he has intimate knowledge of them, and believes there could be multiple (as shown by his belief in both christian god and in greek mythos), but he doesn't pray, nor show his religion at all. he is a follower with nothing to follow.

he doesn't like playing god with his kills, not at all. he defies him, even, in that regard. so he doesn't believe himself to be god (though there's a certain god complex that comes with being a surgeon).

and he doesn't believe god to be something overarching and narcissistic — he doesn't believe that god sits in wait and watches violence. his god delivers justice and karma, he believes that he has an itch in his palm to destroy those who are unworthy of the life they've been granted (which, of course, is deliciously reminiscent of how hannibal cannibalizes the 'rude'— those he believes have tarnished the life they've been given).

will does that; at first, by his profiling — when he kills hobbs, when he shoots stammetts, even when he showed no hesitation in trying (twice) to shoot hannibal; then after his becoming, when he has no problem tearing into dolarhyde.

i think that's what attracts hannibal to him — he's blunt (not rude, but that's a subject for a whole different post), he's clever, and he's always had the same urges that hannibal has, boiling just beyond the curtains. he wants people to pay for what they do — and it is not biased in the fact that he tries to make hannibal pay before he understands why he does what he does. he, in hannibal's eyes, is the perfect god — swift, unbiased, and angry (hence his illusion to achilles' anger; the halfgod who could not be bested in battle).

will isn't hannibal's god in the sense of "you are the best, you are the greatest and no one can befell you and you are invincible". he's his god in the sense of "you are the personification of my ideals, you are human but divine in the sense that you may be felled, but you do not go down easily, i love you and worship you for that alone".

he doesn't believe that will is better than anyone, or entirely godly — he believes he embraces his human nature and is still powerful.

[tbsbookclub-blog]

Thematic Approach on Roy Andersson’s “World of Glory”- Salma Samoud

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bi0mvRI4L5Q&t=449s

“World of Glory” is a 1991 Swedish short film written and directed by Roy Andersson, best-known for his widely acclaimed advertisements. By dint of its peculiar method of shooting, this fifteen-minute film succeeds to captivate the viewer’s attention and allows him/her to ponder upon its meaning. Thematically speaking, “World of Glory” displays Modernist concerns namely the alienation of the individual, the social conformity and the rot of human interaction. The seclusion of the main character from his surroundings in this film is quite apparent. This idea can be seen through both setting and speech. Indeed, one cannot help but notice the gloomy atmosphere that hovers over Andersson’s short motion picture where every footage reveals a dominant blurry whitish colour. The haziness negates the innocence and purity that are embedded within the notion of whiteness and adds to it a sense of paleness and bleakness. These two attest to the psyche of this man, for they emanate passivity and disinterestedness to the world. Additionally, the scene where he stands alone in the empty room of the apartment is highly symbolic since the other two people stay distant from him. This distance can be construed as this man’s need to stay far from others in a cocoon of his own devising, for the scene does not demonstrate any actual interaction between them.

 To insist on this, the camera too is distant from him despite being the only object to which this character addresses. He seems insecure and extremely uneasy in the way he displaces himself. He fears the others and does his best to avoid being near them. Contact with the other frightens him as one deduces when he tells the camera about the man who owes him money and still, he keeps his distance from him without asking him to get his money back. In this light, speech, despite its near absence, is of paramount importance. The character tells little, yet his economy of speech informs the audience about his hatred of his job. He states, in the bath scene, that he is an estate agent and that “they have to exist too.” His use of “have to” as an obligation denotes his loathe towards this stultifying job where he is forced to be around people and in constant contact with them. The fact that he makes such statements concomitantly with taking a bath symbolically implies redemption, for this resembles the Christian baptism where a priest covers a sinner’s body with water in order for him/her to attain salvation. Therefore, he implicitly compares his job to a sin that he feels the need to wash away from his body and soul.

Not only is this man’s life dragged by his social seclusion, but also by the codes of society since he tries to cover every day life namely religious practices and daily habits. Conformity is defined as the behaviour or actions that follow the accepted codes of society where Man is constantly looking for these rules to abide by. Ostensibly, religion is the path to undergo, for it is a set of rules of conduct. The main character of this film resorts to religious practices as it is conveyed in the Church scene. He, wearing the same clothes as the others who are waiting in line like automatons, drinks wine that represents the blood of Christ. The meaning behind this Christian ritual is to ensure the Christ’s spiritual presence inside the believers. Therefore, the character falls back on this sacrament as a way to cure himself from his estrangement and to imitate these religious people in hope to find a common ground with them. He feels the need to bear resemblance to them in order to spare him the difficulty of being different. Likewise, he includes himself in a vicious circle of daily habits that seem to be common to everyone. He tackles mundane subjects which that seem very normal to the audience such as sleeping in a bed with his wife next to him and eating in the kitchen. However, what seems amiss in this scene is the lackadaisical and sinister tone used in the way these statements are rendered. This tone can be interpreted as means to voice the character’s resentment to every day’s routine. He implicitly decries human being’s conformity to the absurdity of these routines and urges one to rail against the tediousness of modern life.] Indeed, just like cogs in a machine, the modern man goes through life in automatic, repetitive and calculated manner in the same way this man remains unmoved emotionally and physically throughout the entire film. He is aware that if he moves, he will cross the lines of his comfort zone. Instead, he feels a need to be motionless and be part of the aforementioned vicious circle. As a result of repeating over and over again these daily habits, the machine-like Man focuses more on the circularity of his day and his main purpose becomes no more than wasting the time he has. Consequently, he forgets about the importance of human connection which leaves one to tackle the issue of Man’s impaired relationship with society. In her essay “Mr Bennett and Mrs Brown”, Virginia Woolf writes, “All human relations shifted” and in that light, Man is indeed in a perpetual struggle in trying to assimilate. The main character of Andersson’s short film is a case in point, for this can be seen in his dealing with both family relationships and social hierarchy. The dysfunctional family explored in this film is a result of human’s inability to communicate effectively. The definition of a family has altered throughout the years. Family is no longer the pillar that holds a balanced society. The decay of familial relationships is clearly shown in “World of Glory.” When the brother is introduced, several symbolic gestures are set forth to impart this decay. The main character stiffly grabs his brother by the arms to introduce him. This simple gesture implies the uneasiness to get along with the protagonist because the spectator notices his pressured nature. Indeed, the main character holds a condescending attitude towards his brother, as he shows his discomfort to loosen himself before the former. Similarly, there exist a contrast between speech and action. The protagonist rigidly announces that his brother is his “only true friend, so to speak”, whereas, at the end of the scene, both of them look in the opposite direction as if to declare their inability to harmonise. In the same respect, the son-figure in this film is victimized when the father compulsorily gets his son a tattoo on his forehead of some commercial brand: “Volvo”. Because of the materialistic nature of nowadays’ human being, his relationship with others, even with his blood-tied relatives, is put to strains. The tattoo connotes the sponsor and therefore money. The audience is informed that the son is talented in an unknown sport and the father uses this talent for self-interest means. The child remains indifferent and unresisting to the tattoo and the cash nexus that this movie exhibits. This image seems common in society and the director clearly criticizes this parent-child exploitation. Such patronising attitudes can also be traced in hierarchical societies. First, men in this scene prove to be powerful and hold high social positions because they are in control; they are the ones who trap the naked and helpless women and children in the vehicle in a callous and merciless manner. In fact, this nakedness contrasts with the suited men, who are likely to be politicians, aims to highlight the discrepancy of social status where the rich controls the poor and is able to humiliate and annihilate him. Second, the choice of the female gender and young age denounces both child abuse and sexual exploitation. These crying and tortured women and children all trapped in a prison-like van reveal an unspoken reality of their trafficking and abuse by the male’s patriarchal power. The film seems outspoken about these social issues and challenges the viewer to reflect upon them, for they may stir in him/her a sense of action. The grotesqueness that Andersson puts to the fore in this film perfectly delineates the plight of the modern man as well as his plagued society, making it an intriguing movie. Not only does he grip the audience with this fifteen-minute short film, but also allows them to reflect upon the different modernist-like subjects that are put in the limelight such as Man’s seclusion, societal conformity and humans’ inability to interact.

[recentanimenews]

Loving Words Will Always Watch Over You: A Violet Evergarden Tribute

  This article is part of Crunchyroll News' KyoAni Month celebration. Check out the rest of our KyoAni features HERE.

    Violet Evergarden, like the best works of fiction, enwraps truthfulness with compassion. The beautiful 2018 Kyoto Animation series  — based on the light novel of the same name — boldly addresses the realities of loss and regret. But it pairs these sobering truths with a resoundingly powerful reminder of life's rich wonders, the possibility of reconciliation with one's awful past, and the recognition that love is always within reach. Time after time, Violet Evergarden tells us that life-empowering experiences can be generated through words and the healing art of writing. Let's explore how, and be warned, there are significant spoilers ahead.

Loss and the Creative Spirit

In Episode 7, Violet visits a famous playwright named Oscar Webster, to help him finish a new work Violet is an "Auto Memory Doll" — someone who assists others via writing. Oscar is an alcoholic, struggling to cope after losing not only his wife but also his daughter. Violet's presence reminds Oscar of his deceased child, which reaches its zenith the moment Violet "crosses the lake." Oscar sees this as a symbolic gesture that echoed his daughter's words. Violet's Auto Memory Doll service provides Oscar with the spark to write again, and his recovery and acceptance of loss are simultaneous with the completion of his new play. This is a compelling affirmation of the healing power of writing amidst tragedy. I found a lot of personal resonance with this episode, but not because I've experienced a loss as awful as Oscar's. I did, however, feel the very real threat of losing two people dear to me.

My dad suffered a heart attack while driving in the fall of 2018, which almost claimed his life. Five stents and one pacemaker later, he was okay. Unfortunately, things didn't get much easier for me and my family. My mom underwent surgery to remove the majority of her pancreas in Summer 2019, and the doctors discovered the presence of pancreatic cancer after the operation. I'm wildly fortunate that both my elderly parents are still alive today, and I can truly say that writing was one of the only things that comforted me during those 11 months. In that period, I somehow released an album and had the luxury of performing live semi-consistently for the first time in my life. Lyrics have always been a top priority for me when writing songs, and I channeled a lot of what I experienced that year into those words. Singing what I wrote sustained me, and urged me to confront — rather than run from — the immense fear and sadness and anxiety. It helped me to face the possibility and the inevitability of the loss of my parents, but in a way that was nurturing and kept me from falling apart. That's how Episode 7 of Violet Evergarden reminded me, on a profoundly personal level, about the rejuvenating effects of creative writing.

Accepting the Past

Regret is a theme that Violet Evergarden explores with a sobering focus on accepting responsibility, which the series pairs with a palpable sense of tenderness. The show uses Violet's bloodstained past as a skilled wartime killer to ask some heavy questions: Does an ex-killer have the right to one day live a peaceable life? Is it ever justifiable for someone who once did heinous things to continue living? Is self-forgiveness just a deluded, cheap attempt to get off easy for past sins? While the entire show tackles these questions, let's look at Episode 7 and 9, specifically.

Hodgins, a former military lieutenant-colonel who fought in the same war as Violet, tells her that one day she will wake up and find herself burning. Hodgins uses this metaphor to suggest to Violet that she will eventually be struck by the gravity of her past, a past stained with the blood of others. Violet eventually recognizes the truth in what Hodgins said and agonizes over whether or not she has the right to live. Hodgins tearfully tells Violet at the end of Episode 9 that although she can never erase the past, it is also true that everything she has done as an Auto Memory Doll will never be forgotten, either. While Hodgins says this, there's a brief montage that shows everyone Violet has helped by writing for them. 

I love how this episode stressed the need to accept responsibility for past wrongs. It shows we can never change or alter what we've done. But the episode also poignantly argues that the good things we have done  — and can continue to do  — in support of others will also never be undone: actions, both good and bad, are permanent. It's a moving message about the need for accountability, but also the possibility of renewal and self-compassion. I also love that it is specifically the act of helping others through writing that gives Violet a new lease on life, that allows her to accept herself in spite of everything. Violet's character arc suggests writing can be a means to move away from a regrettable past toward a more selfless, healing path.

Words Worth Living For

Episode 10 of Violet Evergarden absolutely destroyed me, and I can safely say that the episode made me bawl like a toddler unlike anything else in quite some time. Violet is tasked with helping a dying mother write letters to her daughter, Anne. By the end of the episode, we discover that the mother had Violet write letters for Anne to receive annually for 50 years, a gesture to help Anne cope with the death of her mother. There's a heart-melting segment where Anne receives new letters at future stages of life, gaining new strength and wisdom from her mother even after her death. At the episode's end, a fellow Auto Memory Doll named Cattleya reassures a mournful Violet that Anne will be okay because Violet's letters will reach her no matter where she is. Both these scenes are a strong testament to the enduring and sustaining magic of words. In the absence of physical proximity and beyond the grave itself, words can still provide comfort and catharsis to those who live on. The episode reminded me of my own personal experience with literature and how my college years spent reading non-religious texts marked a positive shift for my connection to language. I grew up believing that non-religious books had no lasting importance in the grand scheme of things. This religious connection made me feel like the sacred world of language controlled me in every way, from the actions I should take to the thoughts I should have, to my eternal destiny itself.

College changed everything. I read my first novel in its entirety at age 20 and majored in English. Naturally, it's not like I personally knew any of the authors I read. I was separated from them for many reasons and in many ways, ranging from basic geographical distance to the mere fact that many were long deceased. But much like the letters Anne received from her mother who died, their words still moved and nourished me. They helped me see and articulate truths in myself that I was either too scared of expressing, or hadn't found the words for yet. They eased my fear of isolation and distance from others, giving me a means to access deeper, truer parts of myself. All those books gave me glimpses of actual freedom, a stark contrast to the soul-crushing visions of infinite hellfire from my religious days.

In an amazing essay called "The Artist's Struggle for Integrity," author James Baldwin writes that our suffering is only important insofar as we find a way to connect it with other people's pain. In a very real way, I think Violet Evergarden does that for viewers, by depicting the pain of its characters in a way that highlights newness and connection beyond individual experience. The last words we see in Episode 10 say "a loved one will always watch over you." These words carry a beacon of affection to all of us who were touched by this series, a show that helped us feel less lonely. Similar to the books that moved me so deeply, Violet Evergarden reminded me of the healing strength that language can produce.

What moved you about Violet Evergarden? Let me know below in the comments!

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[kuroshika]