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Kara no Kyoukai revisited, part 4: "The Hollow"

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It’s interesting that, considering the numerous minor criticisms of the individual parts, I still cite Kara no Kyoukai as something special. There’s not the action and gore of earlier chapters, but I eventually came to think of the fourth as a high point, and a segment that heightens my appreciation of the rest. As short and devoid of ‘exciting stuff’ as it is, the music score to the film adaptation is outstanding (even to this day, the end theme Aria is one of my favourite Kalafina songs) and after reading the English translation of the source material I recognised how well it was adapted from print to screen too.

This is an appropriate time I think for me to address the issue of the protagonist’s appeal (which you may also read as my justification for “why the fanboying?”). I’ve often wondered why, when there are so many potential reasons for calling Shiki Ryougi unlikable and hard to figure out, she’s still one of the the most memorable and fascinating fictional characters I’ve ever encountered. What’s shown and explained in the fourth part of KnK goes a long way to explaining that.

The relative merits and criticisms of the tsundere archetype are widely discussed – with a few minor caveats I really like them, for what it’s worth – but dismissing Shiki as “just a tsundere” is about as accurate as saying Led Zeppelin were “just a folky blues band,” if you’ll excuse the clumsy comparison. The ‘multiple personalities’ thing is a bit difficult to get my head around, and I must confess that even now I’m not sure I fully understand what Nasu was getting at.

The general idea though is simple enough: the accident that occurred at the end of part 2 has landed her in hospital, and after waking from the coma her other ‘self’ had disappeared. Again, I won’t pretend to fully grasp the specifics of how and why this happened even after multiple readings/viewings, but the one thing that comes through clearly is the resulting and fundamental sense of loss. This is a pivotal point; the moment where her character quite literally takes a leap forward into the unknown.

It is also, interestingly, a decision that she makes for herself. Previously, her narration paints a picture of someone who is uninterested and disillusioned about pretty much every aspect of her life. The rift between her two selves, which is from what I can see brought on by her growing feelings for a certain friend at school and her doubts over her involvement in the serial killings, apparently results in the ‘accident’ being an act of suicide…of one of the ‘selves’, anyway.

Post-coma, Shiki has completely given up on life and couldn’t care less one way or the other. If you don’t mind me making a digression into real-life and possibly sensitive territory for a moment: anyone who has dealt with feelings of depression, emotional crisis or even suicidal thoughts of their own will understand how difficult it is to bring oneself from that mindset towards one in which it’s possible to interact and function in a normal, healthy way.

I don’t think Nasu is making a deliberate commentary on emotional/mental health issues in general, but without trying to second-guess a writer’s intentions I can at least say this: the predicament that Shiki is in at this point of the story is a very difficult one indeed. Nobody else can save her; the best they can do is offer support and advice that can help her save herself.

Which begs the question: how much of an influence did Touko’s ‘therapy’ have on this? The rune failed, although the offer of employment gave Shiki financial security and a sense of direction after she left hospital. It certainly solved the problem of coming to terms with using her Eyes, but the more personal task for her is resolving what to do about losing her second self.

The ‘other’ Shiki had made her feel secure and self-reliant but as of now she’s as alone as any ordinary person would be. The decision to keep on living, knowing that she would inevitably feel a sense of loneliness, was the result of acknowledging the ‘other’ Shiki’s self-sacrifice. It was her decision and hers alone, and was made while knowing that, for all the hardships, the alternative option is even worse.

I often get a bit disappointed with the typical portrayal of female protagonists in fiction because, even when the heroine is strong or skilled in certain situations, a male love interest saps her of agency or intelligence and turns her into a helpless, weak object of his affections. A character that is completely devoid of weakness and errors of judgement lacks realism, but Nasu wisely gives the male protagonist an important role without abandoning what makes the heroine admirable.

Ultimately, Mikiya cannot save Shiki, either from her own inner demons or that weird nameless void that she inhabited while unreachable in the coma. Heck, she didn’t even realise that he continued to visit her in hospital and bring her flowers every week! But still, the knowledge that he was there for her when she chose to return to reality provided her with the crucial piece of encouragement that she needed to move forward.

It also brings together the distinctive and often contradictory depiction of her in the official artwork…which I still maintain does more than simply make Takeuchi’s job as illustrator more interesting. The peculiar leather jacket/kimono getup isn’t a conscious fashion statement in the conventional sense: it highlights how she’s in a period of transition, vaguely aware of her past as the heiress of a traditional Japanese dynasty but mindful of the practicality that comes with contemporary attire. Plus there’s the issue of her gender identity, which gives her modes of dress and speech a peculiarly androgynous slant anyway.

Dramatic changes in hairstyle are a common plot device in Japanese film and literature from what I’ve seen, so it makes sense that we see the protagonist making a statement about throwing herself into the next stage of her life while chopping her tresses. Again, it’s a decision made out of necessity of the moment rather than style or image: nobody wants long strands of hair flailing around when dealing with a burning zombie! After this, her hairstyle retains that ‘did it myself in front of the bathroom mirror’ look, adding to that feral, devil-may-care appearance she retains for the rest of the story.

Ultimately, the reason why Shiki Ryougi is so intriguing and striking is that multi-layered collection of contradictions, and the writer’s intentions to break from the conventions that seem to govern female protagonists in fiction…especially in the otaku-centric light novel genre, which of course has its own tropes and expectations that readers have of a literary heroine. She might think of herself as The Cat Who Walks by Herself, but the events surrounding her suggest that this assumption couldn’t be further from the truth.

Well, that works

As a final thought, how about a bit of A Perfect Circle? I felt I should share this one, since the lyrics couldn’t be more appropriate…

Run, desire, run
This sexual being, run him like a blade
To & through the heart
No conscience, one motive…
To cater to the hollow

Screaming “feed me here!
Fill me up again!”
Temporarily pacify this hungering.

So, grow, libido, throw dominoes of indiscretions down.
Falling all around in cycles, in circles.
Constantly consuming.
Conquer and devour.

‘Cause it’s time to bring the fire down.
Bridle all this indiscretion
Long enough to edify and permanently fill this hollow.

Screaming “feed me here!
Fill me up again!”
Temporarily pacifying…
“Feed me here!
Fill me up again!”
Temporarily pacifying…

It couldn’t be more perfect really, could it?

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