Trigun: The Fortunate Fall
Apr. 16th, 2003 11:28 pmAdvisories: These pages are based solely on the anime until such a time as I acquire the manga. There are oodles of spoilers and lots of analysis.
Title
I took the title for this page from a bit of theology that became popular around about the 19th century, when a lot of philosophers who had a lot invested in the idea of independence and free will took a good long look at Genesis and thought, “Wow, Jehovah, what a capricious ass hole; that can’t be right.” They had to come up with some way to explain why a benevolent god would stage such an apparent put-up job as the whole don’t-eat-the-fruit-right-here-in-front-of-you affair. Their conclusion was that God meant for humans to eat the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil so that he would have an excuse to chuck them out of a static and stultifying Eden and make them grow and exercise his greatest gift: free will. Thus, the Fall was Fortunate.
This idea seems, to me, to address one of the major themes of Trigun, the question of Eden or similar paradisiacal existence, and of choice and freedom. The clearest expression of this theme comes through the issue of when and how the characters mature.
Growing Up is Hard to do
Vash, Knives, Wolfwood and Meryl all display a fairly childish approach to life at the beginning of the story. Meryl makes steady, gradual progress toward a more mature vision, while both Vash and Wolfwood have more dramatic moments of epiphany close to the end. Knives gets left rather up in the air, but I think the implication is that Vash is going to try and convey his realizations to his brother so that Knives can grow up too. More on that in Synthesis.
Small Packages
To her credit, Meryl does show a firm grasp of adult professionalism right from Episode One. I have to say, if a bunch of scruffs in a bar made that milk joke to me I would rip out their livers with my bare hands and fry them for breakfast while they watched. Meryl just ignores them, as they well deserve. Despite her fanon nickname of PMS Queen, Meryl actually has good control of her temper under most circumstances. She’s a very serious young woman, however, and Vash’s clowning rubs her the wrong way. Meryl’s lingering immaturity is more subtle then, say, Vash’s whining.
She starts out very rigidly wedded to her preconceptions. She was sent out after a dangerous outlaw. Dangerous outlaws do not act like complete cornballs. Therefore, the tall blond in the red coat cannot possibly be a dangerous outlaw. Even after she sees a fair sample of his agility and aim in “Truth of Mistake”, she’s perfectly happy to take his word that it was all a fluke. Doing so keeps the world in the neat little boxes she likes. Even once she’s convinced she continues to treat him rather like an annoying little boy she’s been forced to babysit. Thus, I think, her surprise when Vash switches over to serious mode; it conflicts with the box she’s put him in.
In “Escape From Pain” however Meryl starts to show signs of a greater ability to accept complex answers rather than simple, surface ones. When Vash admits that the caravan master asked him for a kill, Meryl outs with a gun. After a few seconds, though, she draws back and demands that Vash tell her the full story. She knows that, whatever his reputation and skill, the person she’s been observing would not kill lightly or simply for money. She sees that something is odd and refrains from leaping to conclusions. “Vash the Stampede”, despite being one of that dread category the recap episode, does show Meryl putting in some serious contemplation time. By this point she seems to have a fairly solid understanding that Vash’s reputation is not the reality of him and also that his reputation is the only reality most people know.
The very next episode, of course, she backslides into conclusion jumping, though by the end of “Demon’s Eye” she does seems to have twigged that something odd is going on since she once again demands an explanation. She doesn’t demand it until after she’s clobbered Vash for apparently taking advantage of Dominique, but she does get there eventually. She has also fallen thoroughly out of professional mode and into girly romance mode, which seems to make her a lot less decisive. She does not, for instance, challenge Vash on his determination to go on alone which, professionally speaking, she should have. If anyone has believed the last eight or so episodes’ worth of protestations that she’s following Vash because it’s her job, they should be disabused of the notion here. I rather suspect that the violence of her reaction to the tableau of Vash and a blushing, unbuttoned Dominique owes something to jealousy.
Girly Romance Mode puts her into a holding pattern of chasing Vash without admitting why, which lasts until he kills Legato. At this point Meryl seems to find her old practicality in a new cause: dragging Vash back to the land of the living. In this cause she also seem to find a store of patience that she hasn’t shown before. Rather than a) running off half cocked or b) sitting around moping, Meryl manages to give Vash both space and support. We don’t see her badgering him, but we do see her doing small things to encourage him back to his old self–like mending the red coat. This, I think, is what finally breaks the chase-Vash pattern and allows her to simply wish him luck when he takes off to see Knives. I was so proud of her… at least up until the point where she came out with the line about how Vash will definitely be back, he wouldn’t keep a good woman like her waiting. At that point I gagged a bit.
Survival Guilt
Vash and Wolfwood both have the same shape of problem, for most of the story–ironic, considering that they conflict sharply in the particulars. The point, though, is that both men have gone through their lives unquestioningly accepting the word of some childhood authority figure about the nature of life. For Vash that figure is Rem. In “Love and Peace” his explanation for why he didn’t shoot a threat when he could have is that he doesn’t like pain, but we get a deeper reason in “Between Wasteland and Sky” when Kaito bawls him out for shooting to disable when he’s so outnumbered by killers. Vash says that he made a promise and that if he kills even once “she” would be saddened. It is a vision of Rem that stops him from killing Monev. Most tellingly, to me, in the preview of “Live Through” Vash says “Rem… listen to me, Rem. I did a bad thing. I did a bad thing! Tell me, what should I do?”. He asks Rem to solve his moral dilemma, rather than try to do so himself. Once he wakes up again post-Legato he says that he needs to go to Rem, and that there had to be a way to save everyone because Rem said so. Again, he can’t reach a solution on his own. Indeed, his solution seems to be to let himself be killed, judging from his lack of readiness to dodge when faced with a vengeful man’s gun. Fortunately, Meryl saves his bacon and gives him time to have an epiphany.
If you watch “Rem Saverem” and “Live Through” back to back you may note that Meryl vs. Yokel and Rem vs. Rowan are very similar confrontations visually. Woman walks straight into gun with open arms and man doesn’t shoot her. Verbally, however, they’re quite different. The phrase they both use is “no one has the right to take the life of another”, and Meryl adds that everyone has a future. She says that “if we don’t stop the hate and sorrow some time we will never make any progress” and that humans weren’t born to steal. (Words of wisdom for border wars everywhere.) Rem adds that it’s never too late to repair mistakes and start over. The idea that seems to break Vash out of his suicidal despair over having killed Legato is that the cycle of death and revenge is not an absolute natural progression. It can be stopped. Possibly for the first time he really hears and understands the point that Rem kept making: not that we all have to go through life making no mistakes, but that we should and can learn from and make restitution for mistakes.
Vash is hung up on the violence of his past, the cycle of pain and revenge, for a long time. He’s been living the life of a gunman rather than, say, a bank teller or carnival clown because of Knives. He admits as much to Meryl in “Vash the Stampede” when she asks why he insists on living in such a dangerous way. He has not, he tells her, buried his past yet, and can’t live peacefully with it hanging over his head. Of course, his search for resolution just seems to pile on more pain and internal conflict, wherefore he tries to leave it behind (for two years until Knives sends Wolfwood to fetch him in for the last act). He drags along a lot of guilt for being the instrument of destruction for both July and Augusta, agreeing with Brad in “Flying Ship” that he is the more dangerous of the twins. I’m not sure whether he actually feels guilt for being, in effect, the gun that Knives fires in both cases. His anger at Knives seems rather to indicate that he blames his brother for them (as he should). It’s also possible that he feels guilt simply for continuing to carry such a dangerous and uncontrollable weapon as the catalyst in his revolver. I could see that causing a good deal of angst. He knows how destructive it can be, but perhaps can’t convince himself to get rid of it because he knows Knives still has his and thinks that nothing can counter the Angel Arm but another of the same. This particular dilemma might explain why he spends so much time fixated on the idea that only a shoot-out will resolve his confrontation with Knives. Especially considering that, when Wolfwood asks him if he wants revenge on Knives, he says he doesn’t know (23). In fact the shoot-out only gives him an opening for a true resolution.
Really, I would say Vash is stuck in a black and white world until he is forced to kill. At that point he has to deal with a dire mistake that he made himself and decide how to go on from there. Strange as it may seem, Legato did him a sort of favor by forcing him to fall and live on in a world of choice and judgment calls instead of the innocent absolutism Vash has clung to. “From now on I will search for my own words” he says to Rem’s memory at the end. I can almost hear Rem saying It’s about time, you big lug!
Crossroads
Wolfwood has relied on the word of Chapel, whose lesson is to chose your goal and act unhesitatingly to achieve it, no matter what it takes. Note Wolfwood’s comment in “Escape From Pain” that Milly does so easily what he can’t, as she takes off after Julius and Moore. Milly acts without hesitation. Wolfwood agonizes more. This does not, however, seem to be because he actually doubts Chapel but rather because he doesn’t much like the things that he, under Chapel’s influence, sees as necessary. Note that even as late as “Paradise” Wolfwood still tries to grab hold of the apple Chapel holds, still playing Chapel’s game. Chapel is always faster because he doesn’t hesitate. At least, until Wolfwood finally decides Vash has gotten something right and chooses the “save everyone” motto to act on.
It takes him a while to get there, though. While he doesn’t like it, he does at least say that he thinks Vash’s death is a fair trade for the mother and son in May, and that Julius and Moore have no right to put their two lives before the lives of their entire caravan. When it comes to weighing innocent against innocent he sticks to straight moral arithmetic however unhappy it makes him. And it does seem to make him unhappy enough that he does not actually shoot either Vash or the two kids, though in the latter case he appears rather disgusted with himself for being so soft. He does seem perfectly happy to kill Rai Dei and Leonof, and would have added the thugs who kidnap Lina and Sheryl obaa-san if Vash hadn’t demanded he not. In “Hang Fire”, as he listens to Vash dealing with the crazed father who wants to shoot Slater, he repeats what we eventually learn is Chapel’s theory: humans have to act with a demon’s ruthlessness because limited powers cannot sustain the kind of mercy God can afford. At this point he still thinks Vash is being too much of the good guy, trying to protect a killer. His encounter with the shipspeople seems to change something, though. At least he’s certainly ticked off that Leonof misidentifies him as Chapel there.
That whole interlude seems to be a turning point for Wolfwood. One of the story’s more interesting moments, to me, is when Brad rushes in to find Wolfwood by the bodies of a few shipspeople and Wolfwood says it wasn’t him who killed them. Brad has a quick flash of Vash, asking for his trust despite Vash’s destructive potential. This was the culmination of a progression of images and ideas. 1) The preview speaks of home as a solid base from which a traveler can move. 2) When Wolfwood asks where the flying cup is going, Vash says that he’s off to visit the folks. 3) As Wolfwood stands musing in the corridor on a city full of technology that has been lost to the rest of the planet he thinks that he’s starting to see what drives Vash. That final juxtaposition of Vash and Wolfwood indicates to me that the experience of a city full of people who have never been driven so far down by want that they turn on each other has also given Wolfwood a new hope and motive. He still suggests ignoring the hostage Leonof takes, but in the next breath he admits that Vash’s way does succeed. And then, as they go in search of Gray and Hoppard, adds that he’s going to do it his way, and that Vash will be killed if he keeps trying to merely disable. Yet, he feels obliged to warn Gray that he will show no mercy, which he certainly didn’t do for Rai Dei, and says that Gray being a robot simplifies matters. When he goes after Leonof, who crashed the ship and killed the only person on it Wolfwood might actually respect, that’s one of the very few times we see Wolfwood truly enraged. Leonof’s life means nothing to him at that point. He’s see-sawing.
By the time “Alternative” rolls around, though, he has to weigh the life of a child, albeit one he knows is a killer, against Vash’s life and possibly Meryl’s. And where Wolfwood has previously been willing to kill the Gung Ho Guns without a wink of regret, this time the decision costs him. I’m inclined to think that only a guilty conscience could make him as mad as he is at Vash’s insistence that Zazie wasn’t going to shoot and at Vash’s statement of his goal (a place of peace and humanism with no war or theft). He certainly spends a fair bit of “Paradise” agonizing over a new conviction that he has not, in fact, chosen the right path. In the final analysis he acts to protect Vash, and all his annoying ideals, and in his final show-down with Chapel it’s Wolfwood who acts fastest and yet only shoots to disable. What marks this to me as his coming of age is that, when Chapel protests that Wolfwood is going to waste everything Chapel taught him, Wolfwood chirps back that he’s just applying it in his own way. This parallels the remarks with which Vash closes the story, both indicating a mature reliance on their own judgment.
And then, of course, there’s the apple. In a wonderful bit of Gordian knot-cutting Wolfwood traipses up to the wounded Chapel, plucks the apple out of his coat and chomps on it. The apple, of course, is popularly considered the fruit that grew on the tree of the knowledge of good and evil (I so hope that was less of a mouthful in the original). Eating it marked humankind’s fall from innocence. In Wolfwood’s case, that innocence consisted of his unquestioning acceptance that sacrificing one life to save another is the only way to save anyone at all. At the end of “Paradise” he has gained the ability to judge without relying on such a limiting absolute. He has himself answered the questions he asked: what is right? is this enough?
Brother’s Keeper
Strangely enough, I would say that Knives also took the word of an authority figure, in his case the “father” rather than the “mother”. Recall that the ship’s captain holds to the philosophy of the smallest sacrifice necessary to save as many as possible. Knives quotes that back at him just before he kills the man. (I find it interesting that this is the philosophy Wolfwood tries to hold to in “Quick Draw” and “Escape From Pain”.) I would say his most telling formative moment is The Haircut. We see him snipping his hair short while sitting in front of a computer screen full of butterfly pics and, presumably, stats. He says that “it’s all wrong”, which in the later context of the spider-butterfly incident I take as a comment on his discovery that it’s not possible to have a free lunch. Something must be consumed for another thing to live. At this point Vash finds him and is surprised (that Knives chose a different look? that Knives did it himself rather than wait for Rem?), and Knives says that it’s just “a little change of heart” without which they wouldn’t have any individuality. During this speech we see an apple on the console beside Knives, with a bite out of it.
Ah, the apple. On the one hand, the apple is the focus of an earlier conversation between Vash and Knives, in which they talk about eating plants (the green things) in order to survive. Knives wonders if he will be eaten in turn, and Vash reassures him that Rem says they won’t. This implies that there has been some reason to think they might be consumed, possibly in the same way that the other Plants (light bulb things) are. So the apple with a bite out of it says to me that Knives has accepted that consumption for survival is the natural and insuperable law of the universe and that he will have to work within that context. Thus his choice to kill the spider–it makes perfect sense given his new understanding of the world. On the other hand, and in yet another parallel with Wolfwood, that apple once again represents knowledge of good and evil. In this case, it is the start of the road that leads to sacrifices, rather than the end of it. It gives us an icon of Knives’ fall from the innocence that Vash retains.
The spider-butterfly incident is really just the culmination of this earlier decision. It’s right after the haircut that we see Knives shaming Steve (“is this how a responsible adult acts in front of children?”), saying whatever he says to Mary and Rowan that results in them framing Steve, and then contradicting Rem. Rem says that he shouldn’t be so quick to kill something and he mocks her, asking whether one should continue to deliberate in which case the butterfly will die in the meantime (shades of Chapel). Rem seems shocked and actually backs away from Knives. I’m inclined to think that it’s Rem’s reaction that spurs Vash to attack his brother. The shock of that attack seems to send Knives over the edge. Tellingly, he says “you don’t make sense to me, Vash”. The extremity of his response to this goes beyond childish to irrational, but the heart of his reasoning remains very childlike in its absolutism.
Further Reading
For reflections on the story’s end, and what it means for Knives, move on to Synthesis. If, on the other hand, you have missed Milly and Rem, check Purity. If you’re in the mood for more rambling about symbolism look in on Culture. Questions addresses all the bits and pieces that don’t fit anywhere else in these pages, some serious and some silly. For those who wish to flee now links are just below. For those who wish to respond (blessings, blessings) my email link is at the bottom of the page; if you wish to respond violently, please stuff a sock in it.
Links
The seeker after general info will probably find her or his way to The Trigun Realm sooner or later; it’s a bit scattershot and notably un-grammatical, but there is a ton of information collected there.
Another possibility is The Trigun Machine, especially good for finding links though many other sections are very incomplete.
The best background info site I found is actually a Vash shrine. Go figure. Deus ex Machina is the place to go if you’re still trying to find out what the devil a Plant is. It also has very fine Vash material and reflections.
If, on the other hand, Wolfwood is your cup of tea, check out Angel Intersection and head for Cinders and Smoke. The Miscellaneous section also has some interesting essays.
Those who need manga translations need look no further than Make a Little Lightbulb in Your Soul and Eye of the Explosion. My everlasting gratitude to Sumire and Shadowslash, respectively. I’m especially fond of Shadowslash’s play-by-play for the visual action.
And those who did not get their pic fix here may head over to Up in Smoke, home of screencaptures galore. Very high quality. This site also houses some entertaining craziness, should you be in the mood for a bit.