Grave of the Fireflies (1988)

Seita and Setsuko amidst the ruins of Kobe.
Seita and Setsuko amidst the ruins of Kobe.

**Contains Spoilers**

When I get interested in a topic – any topic – I take a tumble into a rabbit hole. I try not only to absorb as much as a I can about the particular interest but I also expand my search to things surrounding it – the culture, the food, the history, the art. All of this acts like a marinade – enriching and deepening the subject. This process takes time and is often quite unremarkable but every so often something extraordinary happens, and that is how I feel after watching Grave of the Fireflies.

The film was a gift from my brother. I had heard of it and I was aware of the aura surrounding it. “It’s the saddest animation of all time,” reviews said. I knew the basics of the plot – the firebombing, the isolation, the death – so I felt prepared to watch it. To be honest I was afraid this familiarity would spoil the experience, but oh how wrong was I! Nothing could prepare me for watching Grave of the Fireflies.

The impression made by this film is unforgettable. Already, upon reflection, I can appreciate aspects to the film that were not at first apparent. Do you ever have that experience? I mean usually a film will change with re-watching – impressions and interpretations will either deepen or become more shallow. But I have never experienced anything as profound or as moving as this film. As Roger Ebert described it, “An emotional experience so powerful that it forces a rethinking of animation.”

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Japanese cinema poster for Grave of the Fireflies

Grave of the Fireflies follows a brother and sister, Seita and Setsuko, as they attempt to survive in the wake of a devastating firebombing. Their mother dead, their father away at war, their relatives indifferent, the struggle of these two siblings is unlike anything I can think of in any other film. The war has swept away everything they ever knew. One tragic dimension is Setsuko’s innocence and how her brother Seita tries to shield her from reality including, at first, their mother’s death. Many of these scenes are heart rending. Setsuko is wholly innocent, she has nothing to do with the war, but Seita worked in the war effort until his manufacturing plant was destroyed by the bombing. I think this adds an interesting angle to the story. It is about two innocent children yet perhaps one is not quite so innocent as the other. Seita’s awareness of his role in the war can be debated, but under the prevailing attitude of the time – total war – he was considered a combatant, a legitimate target (not that this distinction mattered much to those on either side of the bombing).

“This movie doesn’t move you, it shatters you.”

It has been said that Grave of the Fireflies is the most powerful anti-war film ever made, but I am not so certain that this is the best interpretation. More compelling, I think, is seeing the film as a coming of age story for Seita. His character undergoes the most dramatic transformation of the entire film. Throughout he is the dutiful son who can seemingly do no wrong. He is loyal to a fault to Setsuko, always caring for her, yet it is Seita’s action that (1) alienate the two from their aunt (2) cause them to live apart from Japan’s rationing system and (3) ultimately lead to Setsuko’s death by starvation. It is Seita’s stubborn refusal to admit his failings that leads directly to his sister’s death, and I think this is by far the most interesting dimension to the film: the effect of pride.

tumblr_moem5d6azj1spui9lo2_250From the bombing until Setsuko’s death, Seita does all he can to maintain the illusion that all is well. I think this stems from a brotherly sense of responsibility for his sister. He is trying to act like the adult, to provide all that she needs, but he is incapable of doing so. Take, for example, the need to distract Setsuko from the bad news about their mother’s injury. Seita takes to the play equipment in an attempt to entertain Setsuko, but she is inconsolable. Even as the symptoms of Setsuko’s malnutrition worsen, Seita persists in the illusion that they can survive apart from the rationing system. Yet he refuses to contemplate returning to his aunt’s home. Why? Because to do so would admit his failure. One adult in Seita’s life even tells him to swallow his pride and apologize, but this advice is ignored. All Seita had to do in order for his sister to survive would be to apologize, but he persists in his refusal until it is too late for both of them.

tumblr_muydpx9yby1qffcopo2_250Aside from the main story, there are some aspects to the story worth noting. First, I think, is Seita’s participation in the war effort. This work was, of course, compulsory but I think it provides fodder for discussion about the extent to which those on the so-called home front may be regarded as combatants. My own thinking is that this participation does not justify the bombing, but at the time different attitudes prevailed. While the US maintains that its air forces targeted only industry in Japan (and Europe), the firebombing raids demonstrate that any distinction between combatant and noncombatant was, in practice, meaningless. The entire population of Japan was regarded as fair game for the B-29s and their escorts. As former US defense secretary Robert McNamara observed, had the US lost the war there is no doubt he and his Army Air Corps staff would have been prosecuted as war criminals.

The second aspect I found interesting was the extent to which the war fell into the backdrop for Seita and Setsuko. While the film starts with a firebombing raid and other raids are witnessed throughout the film, the state of things for Japan never really enters into the picture for the main characters. I think this is best demonstrated by Seita’s complete ignorance of the surrender until he goes to the bank to withdraw cash with which to pay for food for his sister. He is shocked by the war’s abrupt ending, caught completely unaware. Finally, it is the fate of his father’s ship, the HIJMS Maya. At the film’s opening and at various points throughout the story, references are made to their father’s whereabouts and silence. Since Grave of the Fireflies takes place between March and September 1945, it is heart rending to learn that their father’s cruiser was sunk in October 1944. This adds another level of loss to the story.

In the words of Ian Krupnik, an Amazon reviewer, “This movie doesn’t move you, it shatters you.”

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Go Spotting: Know Your Enemy—Japan

By August 1945 the Greater East Asia War (official Japanese term) had entered its terminal phase. Hiroshima was obliterated by the atomic bomb “Little Boy” on 06 August, Nagasaki followed with “Fat Man” on 09 August. Over 100,000 people were killed instantly with tens of thousands more suffering injuries. Also on 09 August the Soviet Union broke its non-aggression pact with Japan by declaring war and launching an invasion of Manchukuo, a Japanese puppet state. These events sealed the fate of the Empire of Japan.

In the United States 09 August witnessed the release of a propaganda film which, given contemporary events, ought to have been released much earlier. This was Frank Capra’s Know Your Enemy—Japan. Like his earlier, Why We Fight series, Capra’s Know Your Enemy—Japan was intended for US personnel readying for deployment, but it never realized this aim because of the war’s abrupt conclusion in the days following its release.

Know Your Enemy—Japan portrays the Japanese as a homogeneous mass lacking all individuality. The Japanese are depicted as a people molded by ancient traditions (true) who have used their acquaintance with modernity solely to subvert the West (propaganda). According to historian John Dower, author of War Without Mercy, “[the film] was a potpourri of most of the English speaking world’s dominant clichés about the Japanese enemy, excluding the crudest, most vulgar, and most blatantly racist.”

Of interest to the baduk community is a section beginning around 43:29 which describes purported Japanese attempts to eradicate Western influence from its culture. The narrator says: “Western card games were purged in favor of this: It’s a game of super chess called go. Actually it is a game of military strategy.” Yes, and even more so is chess! I said to myself. True, it’s propaganda, but I couldn’t help but become exasperated at the superficiality of the vilification.

So there you have it! Go spotting circa 1945.

The Games of August

Of late I’ve been contemplating this quote from Miyamoto Musashi, the famed Japanese swordsman:

The purpose of today’s training is to defeat yesterday’s understanding.

With these words Musashi captures the essence of continuous improvement, of deliberate practice. These are qualities for which the Japanese are famous — their pursuit of perfection is legendary. It’s this approach to training that I strive for in baduk as well is other areas of life.

This ideal, however, is difficult to realize, and that has been particularly true this past month. In August I was out for two weeks from work, first for beach vacation and then for my brother’s wedding. Both of these were wonderful occasions that offered some respite from the day-to-day and gave me a chance to experience life differently. At work, I’ve been either preparing to depart or catching up upon my return — suffice to say it’s been a real challenge to find the time and energy to play serious games. Then there’s the frustrations I experienced on a pretty bad losing streak. While I was able to play many games on certain days, the quality of my play was quite poor, and this vexed me. I don’t know if readers have had this experience, but I made mistakes that I thought were well behind me. The games of August were certainly a rude awakening to my flaws as a baduk player.

What I’ve found most interesting about this past month is the way in which baduk reflects my life and shows me where I need to improve. What do I mean? Well I mentioned when I first started this blog that my wife and I had gone through a very hectic period: new job, new baby, new house. All of these are great things, but we had them all within a month! The intensity of that period has finally subsided and we’ve gotten into a quieter period, but we’re learning about the need to grow as a couple and not just as parents.

What is remarkable is how this was manifested on the goban. My wife and I both noticed games taking an emotional toll on me. Games were stressful, and losing provoked serious anxiety. I would lose my peace whenever I perceived my abilities as poor, and I found myself getting snappy. Upon reflection, I can see how my sensitivity was evident in the games I’d been playing for weeks, and how I already recognized a need to address this imbalance but had not yet taken the steps to do so. Seeing that my irascibility was not just isolated to the game made me stop and take a step back and look for the root cause and how to address this. The interplay between life and baduk is fascinating. It truly is life in 19×19 😉

It’s difficult to face one’s struggles head on. Oftentimes we can rationalize our behavior and feelings, explain them away as something they’re not. But when they are laid bare before us in our actions — in this case the quality of my baduk games — it’s more difficult to look away, and for someone like me that’s a good thing, because it gives me a concrete way to analyze myself.

That’s probably more amateur psychology than any reader came here for, but I wanted to share the experience because it has really helped improve my appreciation not only of baduk but also of the ways in which it’s helping me grow as a player, husband, and father. Baduk is a game of balance where every move we make counts and cannot be taken back. So, too, life. We cannot take back anything we’ve done and balance is an imperative if we’re to flourish. Let’s make every stone count!

Training Update

I have begun studying a pro games in order to shake up my training and see the game from new perspectives. Already I’ve memorized one game and am on my way to memorizing a second. With some effort I hope to commit more games to memory before long. I’m thinking of Dwyrin here who memorized a game per day for a year. Pro games are great because every move is worthwhile and playing them through gives me a sense of appreciation for the intangibles of baduk, such as timing and direction.

Tsumego remain the foundation of my study, and I’ve re-completed Graded Go Problems For Beginners #3. Now I’m working on the third volume of the Jump Level Up! series, which is exceptional. Life & death problems are like the wax on, wax off of baduk — the real importance lies not in the activity itself but in the underlying skill it develops, namely reading ability. So do tsumego, and do them correctly: without the solutions!

I was really pleased with my performance in a recent game. When I realized I was behind I managed to start and win a ko fight. Wow! Very exciting to actually succeed in that endeavor because I usually try to avoid such battles. In the event, however, it was satisfying to turn a loss into a victory. This is further evidence to me of the need to dig in during games and trust myself. This resilience was in marked contrast to the fragility I’d demonstrated in previous games during August. A welcome change.

 

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