Innocence in fiction is a funny thing, depending on how you look at it, because everyone’s definition is different. Some might say, I don’t know, that something like this is innocent; others might only see innocence in a thing like that. A lot of that has to do with perspective, but in my viewing of Card Captor Sakura – believe it or not, it’s only my first time through – I realized that there’s one very important variable that can be attached to a person’s definition of the word. I’m talking about age, and how it ties into a viewer’s experience, triggering emotions like nostalgia or admiration, even if the work never requested it.
The first and most obvious point a person can make about CCS is that it’s a definitive story in the magical girl genre, combining the excitement and mystery of magic with the ordinary problems of everyday life – but things like that have already been written on, in more than a few posts that I can’t seem to dig up. The thing is, this isn’t really a post on Card Captor Sakura. It’s not really a post on innocence either. It’s a post on a lot of things that came to mind while watching a show that’s more or less aimed at 10 year olds.
Let’s start with a simple fact: CCS does innocent right. It’s the innocent kind of innocence, true innocence, untarnished by ulterior motives. I can only imagine that this is how old-school mecha fans feel when they watch something from the 80s, totally devoid of the male or female pandering that allegedly plagues anime today. Despite being a moe fan, I find myself enjoying Sakura’s genuine innocence and childishness: it’s almost like an unintentional reminder that this is what real children are like, and that they don’t make cute catchphrases and call you onii-chan for your personal pleasure. Admittedly, a real 10 year old would probably be an awful lot more annoying than Sakura and co., but you get my point. The CCS cast are among the only genuine anime characters under the age of 14 that I’ve seen in a long, long time.
If you ask how the show manages to capture that childish innocence, the answer should come to you within a few episodes. Part of the reason is that, I assume, it was originally aimed at a younger audience; don’t quote me on this, but it doesn’t seem like the kind of story that was meant for adults. It seems like the ideal age (though not the only age) to enjoy the show would be around the same age as Sakura herself: that way, the mystery and excitement of the world around her feels real, or at least it would in comparison. Without a doubt, the secret to the carefree adventurous atmosphere of the show is in the perspective – in telling the story from Sakura’s eyes, we see what the world looks like to a 4th grader. We see her brother, tall and wide-shouldered (part of that is due to CLAMP’s art, but I digress); we see her roller-blades as she skates to school every morning; we see her first crush, a quiet glasses-wearing young man who looks like the picture of maturity. All of these things appear different in Sakura’s eyes – high school students who look like adults, forest cabins that feel like they’re in another country – and they all feel new, waiting to be probed by a child’s curiosity. Her world is vibrant and exciting, and why shouldn’t it be? She’s not just a kid, she’s a magical girl!
Somehow, Card Captor Sakura Christmas pictures carry a completely different warmth than similar images from Love Hina or Kanon, but maybe that’s just me.
This is where the thought of the viewer’s age first crossed my mind. Undoubtedly, the show is saturated in Sakura’s naive and childish world view, but I think the feelings of nostalgia and the desire to see things from her perspective are a lot stronger when the viewer is older. It would be fun to travel with her in her elementary school life while we picture our lives being like that, all the while ignoring our multiplication tables homework, but witnessing her journey from an older person’s perspective is an entirely new experience. Since I’m still in high school, I can only hypothesize as to whether or not adults feel that kind of warm nostalgia when watching shows like Hidamari Sketch, but as I mentally searched through my anime list, a single, controversial name was highlighted.
Kyou no Go no Ni.
Innocent in the ways that count.
5-2, as I’ll refer to it from now on, is not exactly the picture of innocence. It’s an otaku-targetted fanservice show; not too explicit, I don’t think, but certainly not pure either. It goes without saying that very, very few elementary school students in the real world share the experiences of the cast. It’s not unlike the countless idealistic anime set in high school, only a few years younger (and for what it’s worth, I’m excluding middle school because you can never really tell the difference between middle school and high school unless you look at the uniforms). Basically, Today in 5-2 is a typical comedy with a bit of fanservice, the only significant difference being the age of the characters.
And that’s exactly the difference that matters.
I remember feeling that same warmth while watching 5-2 that I’ve been feeling recently with CCS, the only difference being that I didn’t have a blog to post my thoughts on back then. While it’s true that 5-2 isn’t all that original in terms of story, the setting in itself is enough to give it that extra excitement. Playing idly with a ball at recess, meeting up by chance at a drinking fountain, horseplay-ing at lunch and getting food spilled on your clothes…none of those things are interesting by themselves, but they’re completely unheard of in the world of anime, and that’s what made the show unique. Sadly, it’s too late now to know what I would have thought of the OVA had I watched it back in elementary school, but I know that most of my enjoyment of it today was based on nostalgia. It’s not innocent in the same way that CCS is, but it’s got it’s own charm in the way the characters act and the things they say.
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At the end of the day, it can all be boiled down to the fact that your experiences in the real world will affect your viewing of fiction. When you’re younger than the characters, you might look up to them, or you might not understand them; when you’re the same age, you’ll relate to them, and you might envy them; and when you’re older, you might think they’re immature, but more likely than not, you’ll look back at them fondly. I guess that’s what the first half of Card Captor Sakura has taught me: that there was a subtle, innocent beauty in the years we spend playing tag and agonizing over our first crush. It just doesn’t feel that way until afterward.
~ ETERNAL
つづく
