In the beginning, my Clannad pictures only involved Nagisa. Then, it was Nagisa and Tomoya. Now…well, you do the math.
It was a year and a half ago that the Clannad anime began airing, introducing to English speaking fans the latest of Key’s creations in a setting that struck everyone as “sad girls in spring.” No doubt expecting something along the lines of Kanon or AIR, we hopped on the bandwagon and followed Tomoya’s adventures as he encountered a certain hesitant dango-loving girl that was having a little trouble climbing up the hill.
That was a long, long time ago.
Much has been said about the story’s conclusion, and I honestly believe that the blogosphere’s thoughts (compiled skillfully by lelangir) have covered just about every topic I can think of. Yes, I’m late to the party, but I also cannot let an ending like this slide by without saying anything. Therefore, I’ll skim past the things you know already, like how the story is about family and how the reset end feels like a cheap shot against the viewers: if you want a detailed account of the development of Tomoya’s character or a justification for the plot twist, read some of the material that’s already been written (or just check out my last post on the appeal of the show).
Hence, this post is about my take on Clannad, and the reason why my own disappointment is nothing that stands against an excellent story.
The Plot
To reach what Clannad is, I will first start with what Clannad is not.
Certainly, as I’ve previously established and as we’ve all realized, it’s not a visual novel adaptation in the truest sense of the word. Clannad is not about the moe and the escapism, but rather, uses those elements to draw the viewer in and forge a deeper connection between the viewer and the characters. Thus, unlike the Kanon ending where I was relieved at the reset because my favourite characters were alive, a reset ending harms Clannad as it takes away from the authenticity of the pain the characters felt throughout the show.
Having said that, this is where things become difficult: is Clannad slice-of-life, a story that is meant to portray the hardships of life without holding back? Or is it a fantasy, a romantic – in the traditional sense of the word – fairy-tale-esque story in which a dramatic tale is told without regards to realism? I believe that the answer to whether the reset was good or bad rests with this decision.
In my eyes, Clannad’s high point was around the middle of After Story, when the relationship between Tomoya and Nagisa was at its peak. It was the part of the series that I enjoyed the most, for whatever reason, and so my subjective opinion believes that the show should be about the lives of the two main characters and the love story that bloomed in the most unlikely of circumstances.
However, in order for the ending to work, I am forced to accept that objectively, the show is about something else entirely.
The Intention
I believe that Clannad fits into the latter of the aforementioned examples: it is a romanticized telling of a typical slice-of-life story, geared toward conveying its message to the audience rather than impressing the audience with the events on screen. As a literal telling of events, the anime does not work, as the pain of witnessing Nagisa’s death and Ushio’s almost needless death is virtually undone by the deus ex machina.
Thus, I view the story as a fairy tale – much like another fairy tale that had to incorporate fantasy elements to earn its good end. After all, do we have any idea why Chihiro regained her memory of Renji? And do we know how Yuuko managed to turn into an angel, of all things? The writers may have come up with a plausible excuse – not unlike the notion of a city using magical light balls of kindness to travel through time – but to me, the excuse doesn’t matter. Why? Simply because, in stories like these, the events take a back seat to the meaning.
Let me return to ef for a moment: why did I enjoy the show? Because of the emotional conflicts between the characters as they struggled to overcome their problems and find their way through life, yes…but also because of what their problems signified. For instance, Chihiro’s case of amnesia might not be too likely – if not impossible – in the real world, but we can all sympathize with her inability to remember the one she loves, and the pain it must have caused to read the words of her former self without feeling the emotions of her former self. Thus, do we care if her situation is plausible in the real world? Of course not! Because even if we’re not losing our memory every 13 hours, we still know what it’s like to forget things, we still know what it means, from Renji’s perspective, to want the object of our affection to remember us; by utilizing an unreal scenario, the writers have generated real feeling.
I believe that Clannad should be looked at in the same light. Was the reset impossible? Yes, it was, regardless of the fact that it can be justified. Were the emotions spent on Nagisa’s and Ushio’s deaths meaningless? In a sense, yes, because those tears were shed under the assumption that Tomoya would never be happy again. If we knew that he could have his life back with a simple change of will, then we would be encouraging him rather than grieving for him. Therefore, I don’t see Clannad as a love story nor a life story nor a tragedy – it’s still a story about life, but it defies all of the genres it might fit into by using an implausible story to create plausible, and relatable, feelings.
The Meaning
It isn’t too complicated, but my belief is that Clannad is a story that focuses on the development of Tomoya’s character, and the theme that is highlighted as he develops.
In short, Tomoya began his high school life without much direction. He had a terrible life at home and didn’t have much to be thankful for. Then, he met Nagisa and her family, and he was happy – both because Nagisa’s parents filled the hole in his heart, and because Nagisa herself was someone that he cared for and wanted to protect. The feelings generated from the development of the positive side of Tomoya’s life are true, because they show how he was able to change for the better after finding a person – and a group of people – that genuinely loved him. He even later reconciled with his father, having realized that the man meant him no harm and that it was simply a result of the tragic hand life had dealt him.
Along those same lines, as we enter the tragic side of Tomoya’s life, we see that he descends into depression. He resolves to take care of his daughter, and he struggles to get back on his feet, but eventually, the change was too much: Ushio died, and he had no reason to live. Nothing in life stays constant: just as he found friends in high school that could show him the meaning in life, he was also treated to a horrendous turn of events that stole away the things that he loved the most. The changes that occurred within him were virtually meaningless, because in the end, he still suffered – and he suffered more than he ever would have had he never met them to begin with.
…And that is where the key to the story lies. In finally realizing that his time with Nagisa was not wasted, that if he could live his life again, he would live it in the same painful way – this was the apex of the series, and the final tile in the mosaic of the main theme. Pain is intrinsic in life, much like happiness, and we cannot have one without the other. Therefore, is it right to remove happiness in order to not experience pain? Or are the feelings and experiences we gain from our loved ones enough to outweigh the inevitable pain of life? This why I call Clannad a fairy tale rather than a traditional love story: because it makes its point using two extreme futures, and ties them together using fantasy elements to prove its final point to the viewer.
The Conclusion
Kanon, as far as I can see, was all about the escapism. I wouldn’t call this a bad thing since the show is still a masterpiece in my eyes, but I believe that the development of the story and characters was not for the sake of proving a point, but rather, to provide the viewer with a heartwarming experience of tragic love that turned out to be not-so-tragic in the end. It may not be escapism in the truest sense of the word, however; I’m not thinking so much of moe as I am of a fantasy romance that is too perfect to occur in the real world. Kanon tells its story in the same way as Clannad, using implausible twists to create practical feelings, but the feelings it conjures are entirely warm and fuzzy and ultimately artificial, because the dream-like relationship between Yuuichi and Ayu is too “perfect” for the real world to tamper with.
Clannad, I believe, is similar in every way except for the issue of the main message. Instead of providing the viewer with a perfect love story, it deals with a much more general concept of our relationships with our friends and family, and the way that our bonds can hold us together through the inevitable hardships.
Ultimately, Clannad works when you ignore the literal life of Tomoya, which altered from perfect to tragic to perfect again, and when you focus on the lesson that he learned from his experience, because the theme lies within the lesson. Forget the astral projection, or the collection of diary pages, or the light balls that can save the world: what matters is the story buried underneath.
It comes down to the fact that sadness and happiness are both inherent in human life, and that neither is permanent. We fight for our happiness, yet find situations that are out of our control: we forge bonds with our friends and family, yet encounter obstacles that are too great to cross. And yet, it is the acceptance of pain that allows us the greatest pleasures, because without accepting the possibility of pain, what chance to we have of being happy?
Those light balls might seem weak by themselves, but human feelings are a powerful thing – and while they might not be able to bring back the dead in the real world, they have the power to change lives nonetheless, and without them, our lives would be meaningless. The orbs collected by Tomoya saved his life – and the bonds we form with our peers can save ours, too. It’s the simple nature of human existence, the ubiquitous truth that will always remain: to live is to suffer, but in accepting that suffering, we’re also granted a chance at happiness.
And, in discovering that his sadness would be bearable if only he could experience that bliss again, Tomoya was granted the life that he deserved all along. It may not be possible in the real world, but then again, what fairy tale is? Instead, it warms our hearts with a positive final message, and most importantly, it rings true, because every day – in small, irrelevant, and less dramatic ways – we have to make decisions just like he did, and it’s only through accepting the sadness of life that we’re able to keep on living. Tomoya’s story is our story, and it strikes me as the greatest possible amalgamation between sugary sweet fantasy and harsh reality.
~ ETERNAL
つづく
