On Sound! Euphonium and the ‘shipping’ debacle

Yes, it was romantic. But can we please move on?

Despite it being the series I am probably most engaged with at present, I dropped out of the Sound! Euphonium discussion on AS this week. My disillusionment with the focus over there has been building for a couple of weeks, ever since the infamous episode 8 ‘date’, and I finally decided on Monday that I would indeed leave for good. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not dismissing how ‘romantic’ the scene itself was, nor the fact that the characters in question connect on a level that even they find difficult to put into words. In fact, given what was revealed in that date, I wouldn’t be surprised if these two did find themselves falling in love with each other one day, if their hearts took them down that path. What I’m disgruntled about isn’t the content of the scene itself, or even the changes I hear KyoAni has made, but rather the consequences of the way it turned into a debate about shipping and yuri-baiting. Let me explain.

‘Shipping’—which I define as focusing on arguments about why certain characters should end up in a romantic relationship—has long been a pet peeve of mine. When viewers decide that they’re most interested in who ends up with whom, I find that they tend to marginalise the underlying foundation of the relationships in question. And I’m not talking just about ‘yuri’ or ‘BL’ stories either; in fact, the most disruptive shipping I’ve personally encountered involve heterosexual triangles. Though funnily enough, of the two series that I remember most in terms of this peeve of mine, one had heterosexual relationships, and the other was about a relationship between two teenage boys. With Sound! Euphonium, I now have the full set!* (^_^)

* Let me discount relationships involving transgender people for the moment, please. I’ve only seen/read one such series, and I remember the discussion for that one being pretty good.

I agree that they’re drawn to each other. My question is: why?

Basically, my argument is that the shipping focus amongst Sound! Euphonium viewers has had them missing what I find most interesting about the relationship between Kumiko and Reina: what draws them together. Admittedly, the focus on ‘how romantic’ their relationship is shouldn’t be particularly surprising, especially with the way that the anime creative staff at Kyoto Animation ramped up all the instances showing the emotional connection that they have with each other. But what, exactly, is this emotional connection based on?

I contend that the core of this connection lies in something that may not be immediately obvious, especially to Westerners: the strict norms and structures of Japanese society that are arguably the key to how ‘harmonious’ it is. Whilst most people are probably aware of some of these norms—such as the importance of hierarchy,  and the way many decisions are made by consensus—it goes far deeper than this. Most of the Japanese people I’ve spoken to about this find these norms pretty oppressive—that’s why they don’t live in Japan. I only felt it occasionally when I was there, though when I look back, I think I can see other situations where I was unknowingly running into those walls myself. Now that I see those hidden norms and structures a bit more clearly, I understand a bit better why my Japanese friends here in Australia really don’t want to go back and work in Japan. But it’s difficult to describe exactly what it is that they find oppressive, because it’s a combination of a number of different things.

Following their lead…giving way to them. That is what hierarchy demands.

For example, except perhaps in really serious sporting teams that are trying to get to the nationals, most organisations are hierarchical rather than meritocratic. This includes school clubs; which is why the expectation in Sound! Euphonium was that the older students should be the ones playing in the competition. The changes that Taki has brought to the club have helped showcase the conflict between the hierarchical tradition and ‘choosing the right people for the job’. He shook it up by making participation based on ability; making the trumpet solo a question of ability as well is an even bigger faux pas in that society.

The emphasis on hierarchy is so widely accepted in Japanese society that, whilst I don’t condone it, I fully understand Yuuko’s dissatisfaction with Reina playing the trumpet solo. Kaori has waited patiently for over two years, and worked hard to keep the band going when it was falling apart the previous year; this is her last chance to perform the solo. In that sense, you could say that her dedication has earned the right to play the solo. Reina has two more years in high school, so why could she not give way so that Kaori is rewarded for her effort? To those of us from societies that emphasise meritocracy, this might appear to be a weak argument: of course, the person best suited for a job should get it! However, that is most certainly not the case in Japan—talk to most people on the JET programme, and I guarantee you’ll find most lamenting how it seems to be impossible to fire tenured teachers with substandard skills. And this aspect of Japanese society is incredibly frustrating for those that want to strive for excellence.

‘I really want you to fulfil your dream!’

Another example of the norms and structures in Japanese society can be summed up in the term that is used to criticise the people who find it difficult to relate to others in the ‘Japanese way’: KY. This acronym stands for “kūki yomenai,” which literally means “can’t read the mood/atmosphere.” What it points to is how Japanese people are expected to anticipate and read how others are feeling; for example, a wife should be able to understand how her husband is feeling just by knowing broadly what’s going on in his job and field of work, and by looking at his body language. It’s basically the opposite of the West, where we are encouraged to communicate how we feel so that we can clear up any misunderstandings. And based on being able to read the atmosphere, Japanese people are also meant to be well versed in the platitudes that people say in various social situations.

Sound! Euphonium’s main character, Kumiko, is actually a very good example of someone who might be considered slightly KY. She struggles with saying platitudes that she doesn’t mean, or doing the usual social things so as to maintain harmony. Instead, she tends to speak her mind, as she did with Reina at the end of the JHS band competition. Her awareness of this ‘flaw’ is arguably the main reason why that incident has remained on her mind. Kumiko’s also pretty bad at picking up on social cues compared to most of the other characters—e.g. she was surprised that the two second years were dating, and also didn’t pick up on Asuka’s bad mood (though Hazuki and Midori didn’t either, so I can’t really blame her for the latter). For her, the ‘public face’ that she is meant to maintain is something that she’s not really comfortable with. Even though she appears to want to get better at it–that’s why she got annoyed at Shuuichi for nonchalantly calling her ‘cynical’–it seems like she’s not that invested in it. Her real self is somewhat disinterested in what most other Japanese people care about,  which makes her seem kind of ‘distant’, as Reina put it (ep.18 ~18:20).

Always saying what she thinks: that’s Kumiko for you.

This brings me to a third example of norms and structures that some Japanese people find frustrating: what is expected in friendships between school-aged girls (and yes, this is gender and age-group specific, although it can extend to university and beyond). One thing you might notice in shows about high-school girls is that they tend to congregate in the restroom. This is because ‘going to the restroom together’ is a sign of being friends—in fact, girls often use it as an opportunity to gossip about boys, teachers, even other girls. This is not unique to Japan, as I confirmed recently when it somehow became the topic of discussion at a dinner event I was at, but it is quite noticeable. And it does not end there. Going to festivals together, hanging out over the summer break, getting matching accessories. These are all examples of what girls do “because we’re friends.” This is what Reina is referring to in episode 8 (~19:40), when she says: “Being relieved to know you’re the same as someone else is stupid. I don’t want to be like all those people who follow the norm just because that’s what is expected of them.”* There are numerous other examples I could raise, such is what is expected of men and women once they get to the working age, but I think you get the gist. What I shall emphasise is that there’s a set way that things are done in Japan, which is really difficult to go against.

* I think the official translation here of “perfect people” for 「当たり前に出来上がってる人」 is incorrect, as I’m fairly certain that Reina’s actually talking about what I’ve highlighted about the ‘norms’ of human interaction in Japanese society.

edit (2015-09-18): FFF used “Becoming a faceless member of the crowd is something I want to avoid,” which is nice and simple because it uses a familiar concept. However, I personally don’t think it quite captures what Reina’s getting at, because it’s not just about being ‘special’ (which is what Western viewers seem to have taken from it), but rather about not wanting to do what is expected of her. That’s why she gives the example of ‘Sometimes I just want to throw that all away and just get on a train and go somewhere.’ For those of us in Western countries, this kind of behaviour has become quite normal – that’s pretty much how I traveled when I was on exchange back in the day. But it’s just not something that a studious and serious teenaged Japanese girl like Reina does.

‘Yay! We match!’

This is the basis of “those inexplicable feelings” that have drawn Reina and Kumiko together. They both feel something similar to what my friends feel about living in Japan: that there are ideas about human interaction that they themselves think are pointless and constrictive. Like my friends, they want to break out of those hidden constraints that Japanese people use to maintain social harmony. Reina clearly laid it out in episode 8, but besides agreeing with her then, Kumiko has expressed similar thoughts separately: earlier in the episode, she tells the rest of the bass section that she’s not the slightest bit interested in going to the festival. And then we have the obvious point of similarity: what is happening with the trumpet solo echoes what happened to Kumiko in junior high, when an upperclassman went off at her for ‘taking my spot’ in the band. Reina was at the same school, so perhaps knowing about this incident is the reason she felt that Kumiko would understand? Admittedly, Kumiko is less certain about whether it is okay to go against these norms—her experience in junior high left her in great trepidation of being compelled to compete against her upperclassmen. Thankfully, Reina and Natsuki have helped her start overcoming this fear, and I look forward to seeing the strides that Kumiko will hopefully take as a result of these developments.

Go for the gold! And let’s play together next year!

In sum, this is my reaction to the shipping debacle that has dominated the Sound! Euphonium discussion over the last few weeks. To take a cue from Asuka, I honestly do not care. The future possibilities are interesting: I can see the ‘kindred spirit’ connection between Kumiko and Reina leading to an exclusive ‘eros-type’ relationship–to use the Greek term for that kind of love–and I think it would be fascinating to watch how they come to it as they both struggle to overcome the norms and structures I’ve highlighted. But I don’t actually want to talk about it before it happens, because to me, that ‘shipping’ lens has derailed and blocked discussion about what I’m far more interested in: what it is, exactly, that draws Kumiko and Reina to each other, and the social commentary inherent in it.

p.s. Here are some quick notes I took on episode 10… I couldn’t really work them into this piece, so they’ve ended up on my LJ instead.