branchandroot

Religion

Wolfwood being the striking sort of man he is, this was one of the things that struck me the most. Besides, religion is always a rich source of imagery and symbolism.

We have very few indications of just what kinds of religion Gunsmoke harbors. Wolfwood and Chapel are the only two clergy we see. Well, I’m assuming Chapel is, in fact, a clergyman, despite the fact that this is never stated. He’s definitely Wolfwood’s teacher, and Wolfwood purports to be an actual minister attached to an actual church (9). Going by clothing, Wolfwood looks like a particularly laid-back Protestant minister of some division; the dark suit fits, although the bare chest is presumably non-regulation. Chapel, on the other hand, looks to my eye like nothing so much as a slightly funky New England Puritan, with the tall hat, tail coat and sober suit underneath. On the other hand, part of Wolfwood’s stock in trade is selling confessional time. Leaving aside the smashing impropriety of charging for this service, in any present day sect at all, the institution of confession is limited to Catholicism and close off-shoots like the Anglican and Lutheran churches. On yet another hand, Wolfwood does say to Vash that this is not part of his church’s practice, but rather a business venture he has taken up to bring in cash. On yet another hand, making a total of four, Wolfwood does imply, at the very end, that confession itself is part of his church’s practice: despite his profession, he says, he’s never made a confession.

My conclusion, after ruminating on this issue, is that religion in this story was tailored to be recognizably Christian in as non-denominational a manner as possible. This, I think, may explain why the word used for Wolfwood is bokushi; that is the term that can be used for any Christian clergyman. Shisai or shinpu would indicate a specifically Catholic priest. Bokushi can indicate a pastor or minister, Protestant style, or a clergyman of undefined or unknown denomination. Wolfwood is most definitely of unknown denomination, and I think the writers wanted to keep it that way, Catholic flavor notwithstanding. Ken notes that anime Christians in general may often have a Catholic flavor purely because Catholicism is the easiest denomination to distinguish visually.

Language

This is a great show for playing Track the Pronouns with. Vash is the most confusing on that score. His “you” pronouns are reasonably easy to understand. His default is kimi, occasionally sliding into omae when he’s upset and teme or kisama when he’s really pissed. While he’s in Alex-mode, hiding out, he uses anta. His “I”s, though, are a lot more inconsistent. He slips between boku and ore but I can’t make out a solid basis for the shifts. He tends to use boku when he’s in clown mode and ore when he’s in gunman mode, but more subtly he seems to favor ore when thinking about his own destructive potential and boku when he’s uncertain or ashamed of himself. The overlap between those two makes it hard to predict which he’ll use. Wolfwood is more consistent and more varied at the same time. He generally uses ware (which seems to be a dialectical peculiarity) or ore for his “I”, which mixes strangely with his default “you”: anta. I hesitate to call anta his real default, however, since he slips into omae whenever he’s not paying attention or is under pressure. In addition, he calls Vash anta most of the time in the first half of the story, but has shifted almost exclusively to omae when they meet again in “Goodbye for Now”. He uses anata (not anta, but anata) while trying to pry Vash out of his depression and during their confrontation in “Alternative”. This only applies to Vash, everyone else gets the same pattern as before.

Quick Reference: “you” anata (most polite, generally feminine, especially as an endearment to a spouse), anta (polite, ungendered but often feminine, suitable for use by a minister or priest), kimi (polite, generally masculine), omae (familiar, masculine, a bit rough, suitable for drinking buddies), teme or kisama (impolite, masculine, downright contemptuous). “I” boku (very polite, generally masculine, self-effacing when used by a grown man), ore (masculine, a bit rough, suitable for gunmen). I have no idea what valence ware has, being completely unfamiliar with Kansai dialect.

I’ve read a number of people who don’t like Meryl’s high femme speech pattern, but something strikes me about that character using that mode. The most feminine and polite of forms encode a denigration of the speaker and an exaltation of the spoken-to. Besides being coded as feminine, the self-denigrating forms are also coded as upper class. In a way it’s a kind of boasting: I’m so much higher than you that that you are no threat or challenge, and in order to make us all harmoniously comfortable I will mendaciously brush off my own ability and accomplishment.That is the manner in which I would read Meryl’s speech.

Interesting, no, that the character whose speech patterns most closely resemble Vash’s is Legato? The pair of them remind me irresistibly of Kenshin and Soujirou (RK). I’ll say it again, no one who’s that polite all the time can be quite sane. Unremitting enryo is always a sign that something is very not right; if one has to hold back all the time, there must be something very significant being held back.

Gendered Violence

While considering the ‘shipper battles over this show I started to think about just how these characters interact with each other and something occurred to me. The assumptions in the world of Trigun about how gender affects violence are so ironclad that it’s hard to compare male-male relationships or female-female relationships with male-female ones at all, let alone rank them based on likelihood.

The root assumption is that women don’t like violence, however good at it they may be. Consider Dominique. Now, I’ll admit, her own overconfidence does her in; if she had simply shot Vash the first time she had a chance instead of toying with him… well it would have been a much shorter series. But after Vash figures out her advantage he makes a comment that would have sent me, for instance, diving back into the fight thirsting for blood: “Don’t clean away people, clean the house of the man you love. Me for example. Just kidding!” Dominique just stands there, covered in blushing confusion. I gagged extensively over the implication that his sexist-pig joke struck some kind of chord in her, but there it is. To Vash’s credit, he does seem surprised that Dominique is just standing there instead of hauling off and socking him one for it (fortunately, Meryl makes up for this lack). The point is, Vash doesn’t make any attempt to recuperate any of the male GHGs sent against him, with the exception of Zazie who is a child. He assumes that the woman and the child will be receptive to the idea of putting violence aside. Meryl’s office buddy, Karen, puts it in a nutshell: “I know you’re good at what you do, but if you keep risking your life you’ll never achieve womanly happiness” (19). And there’s no doubt that Meryl can, indeed, kick ass up one side and down the other. Consider that she disarms all the sheriff’s goons in “Love and Peace” by shooting the guns out of their hands. But Vash never ever, not even once, assumes that she will back him up in a fight or asks her to after that episode, not even the lower-stakes fights before the GHG’s start emerging from the woodwork.

He makes that assumption about Wolfwood freely. Even though he admits that he doesn’t quite know who (or perhaps what) Wolfwood is (20), Vash accepts his backup in a fight without even thinking. He tries to keep Wolfwood from killing, but not from fighting. He makes no attempt to send him out of danger, as he does twice with Meryl. (In all justice, this may well have to do with skill levels; Vash tries to send Brad out of danger along with Jessica but doesn’t say word one about Wolfwood taking off to hunt down one of the invading GHGs.)

Most of the difference between Vash’s interactions with Wolfwood and Meryl I attribute to circumstances more than anything else. Vash shows more pain to Wolfwood (“Everyone who touches me dies” [22]), but Wolfwood prods him in a way Meryl refrains from (“[Your smile] is so empty it hurts to look at [9]“). He tells Meryl all about Knives, which he never spills to Wolfwood, but then Meryl asks and Wolfwood doesn’t. The issue of violence is, to me, the one really telling difference, and also the one that makes the relationships incommensurable. Vash reacts to Wolfwood with camaraderie and to Meryl with companionability.

Much the same holds true of Wolfwood in relation to Vash and Milly. Because violence is such a major issue for Wolfwood to grapple with over the course of the story, Vash gains a certain degree of primacy. In “Escape from Pain” when Milly enthuses that Wolfwood followed the runaways after all, he growls that he was infected by her nosiness and then thinks “I think I actually caught it from him”. Not because there is any qualitative or quantitative difference in Vash and Milly’s inclinations to mercy; note that it’s at the end of this episode that Wolfwood thinks “you’re just like her” about Vash. Rather, because violence and its contretemps are a masculine province here. Vash is the one Wolfwood identifies with, thus his parting words that “whenever I look at you I’m reminded of everything I hate about myself. It hurts.” When Wolfwood contemplates violence, his thoughts automatically gravitate toward Vash.

In “Alternative” and “Paradise” we get the flip side of this assumption: that women are especially good at nurturing while men, however good at it they may be, just can’t do it as naturally. Thus, after Wolfwood shoots Zazie, it’s Milly who arrives bearing sandwiches and coffee and comfort, admitting freely that she doesn’t know how to reconcile the fact that both Wolfwood and Vash have valid points about the whole affair, while Vash curls up in his covers not knowing what he should do or say. That whole progression really struck me, visually. We see Vash and then Milly curled up in almost identical positions in their respective beds, one agonizing and the other asleep. Then the shot of Milly pans to the window where Wolfwood stands, shirtless and smoking a cigarette. (Momentary pause while the author fans herself. Vash has the classically Grecian body, all sleekly muscular and perfectly proportioned, but this shot of Wolfwood never fails to make me salivate. Wolfwood has character; I bet he’d be a lot of fun in bed.) At first, I thought this scene was a visual vote all for Milly, because Wolfwood is facing toward her, into the room. On second viewing, though, I noticed that he is looking out the window, all narrow eyed and not post-coital at all, despite Milly’s efforts. So, again, we have two strong relationships running on parallel tracks. Milly has gotten Wolfwood back on his feet, and now he’s thinking about tomorrow and what he will do about Vash.

And, again, aside from this crucial distinction Wolfwood’s relationships with them are very alike. His joking around with Vash has a greater tendency to get physical and degenerate into wrestling matches as in “Hang Fire” and “Flying Ship”, where his joking with Milly is verbal as in their banter about sextuplets. Modal differences aside, though, the grinning looks much the same.

Milly and Meryl’s relationship with each other brings out the “women nurture” assumption so clearly that I’m a bit surprised there isn’t more fic that slashes them. In “Escape from Pain”, when Milly thinks Vash has shot the runaways, she flees to Meryl’s arms for comfort, not Wolfwood’s. In “Fifth Moon” when they are recalled from Vash-chasing, Meryl abandons her usual reserve and flings herself reciprocally into Milly’s arms. It’s for Milly’s sake that she stays behind after Vash explains about Knives and takes off yet again, or at least that is the responsibility that Vash invokes for her as he walks out. It is for Meryl’s sake that Milly pulls herself most of the way together and says they should go after Vash. Much as the men rely on each other for backup in a fight without a second thought, Meryl and Milly rely on each other for emotional support without hesitation. They never once assume that either of the men will or can help in that way, despite Wolfwood’s proven care for the vulnerable or Vash’s repeated gentle perceptiveness toward others.

This constant subscription to assumptions that are so obviously wrong weirds me a bit. I can’t for the life of me tell whether we’re supposed to think that the assumptions are disproven, or are supposed to believe in them so strongly ourselves that we never question them either. My cynicism inclines me toward the latter, while I take comfort in the subversive subtext anyway.