A while ago I made a pretty negative (at least compared to the Western consensus on the work) review of Umineko. This work has certainly made an impact on my life, with Ange's struggle being relatable in ways that I am not comfortable sharing, but suffice to say that this is the single most relatable work I've experienced to date, for better or for worse. My view of Umineko is completely reliant on my whims to the point that I wouldn't be surprised if whether I think it's good or bad depends on what side of the bed I woke up that morning. Numerical ratings are far from a holistic metric of how someone views a work, but it has ranged in scores anywhere from 2/10 to 10/10, changing frequently. I've tried giving it a neutral 5 or left it unrated, but even that felt off. I have never had a work I was so conflicted on live rent-free in my mind. So you can view this as another view of my "heart", so to speak. Without love it cannot be seen, different perspectives of the same person can be valid at the same time. I will leave this review and the old one up. It just feels right that way. Now let's dive in.

And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie is one of my favourites books. It sparked my interest in the mystery genre, and made the now cliche setting of a rich group of people being invited to a mansion on an island that gets caught up in a storm and cut off from civilisation a favourite, for sure. Umineko really has an interesting spin on it with how it revolves around a Japanese family with Western names, and how the island leaving no certain clues of what actually happened leads to any sorts of interpretations. The "magic system" largely revolves around walking concepts taking form as objects or entities. The author and heartless truth are concepts turned into characters that walk around and interact with the cast from what seems to be an entirely different genre. The mish-mash of genres is a constant since the ending of episode 1, and it's glorious to see how Beatrice and Battler spectate how the pieces behave through the 4th dimension, and how the soundtrack (which is absolutely top-tier, I don't know what they were smoking, but I'll be having some of that) encompasses a variety of genres, to the point of having techno-dubstep-whatever playing over characters arguing in a mansion ripped straight from ATTWN, or what is essentially Touhou music during magic fights. And I just LOVE the concept of the red/blue truths and will forever miss them in other mystery/death game media where they often just do a basic trial or something instead.

Umineko does so many things from so many different genres that it's easier to say what it isn't rather than what it is. I will say, though, the common sentiment of "if you call Umineko a mystery, you missed the point!" isn't really on the money in my opinion, and I don't think it's a view Ryukishi would support. Umineko is often called "a battle of anti-mystery and anti-fantasy", mystery is in the name. People aren't machines, and detectives are people. Who knows what sort of previously unseen evidence the detective overlooked? Who knows what happened on an island with no known survivors and no remaining evidence? The circumstances are so bizarre that it wouldn't be surprising if magical creatures descended onto the island at only that point in time, and before and after. All that is left to speculate, and that's why it's important to try to look at it from any possible point of view. Only then will we get close to MAYBE seeing the unattainable "what actually happened". Part of the point is that it is using that mystery to make the characters and readers try to reach the "heart" of the matter, to see it with love and not just treat it like a game. There are real people with many sides to them in all walks of life, even characters in mystery novels. All sorts of people get affected — culprits, such as Beatrice, whose life tipped the dominos that led to the tragedy; victims, such as Battler, who died and what was left behind was a new personality in the form of Tohya that complete disassociated from the disaster; those left behind, such as Ange, whose entire lives revolve around a single event. In a way, a "deconstruction" of the mystery genre with an uncertain solution is one of the best ways to explore such themes, because it demonstrates that anyone can be good and evil, victim or culprit, in various situations. We are all walking catboxes, even we aren't sure what is actually going on a lot of the time. Eva and Rosa can be abusers or victims of similar abuse themselves perpetuating the cycle, you often don't get the full story no matter how hard you try.

Despite my complaints about Erika and Bernkastel seemingly further enabling the sentiment that all mystery except rare exceptions like Umineko is a cold "puzzle mystery" where the detective walks in BBC Sherlock-style, solves the puzzle because they don't care about human suffering, and then walk out, the feelings of those affected be damned, they really do add a lot to the narrative. Erika is the antithesis of what Ryukishi wants someone with love to do. It's not that you have to stop thinking entirely, it's that you have to see the "love" and various sides of things. You can be so far gone in your attempt to try to logic everything out that you end up seeing a very shallow, and often incorrect, worldview. And that is one potential path that Ange could take, a life of obsession, chasing something she can never obtain. Someone so deeply buried in this hole that they won't climb out of that they reject any potential for future growth and happiness over something they have no control over.

In my view, there are three Uminekos. The first Umineko was something you had to be there for — the ambitious 8-part story with months and years between episodes which had people online in both East and West speculate about what could possibly happen, and the following frustrated reception, from which Ryukishi never truly recovered from. The second Umineko is the bingeable, complete 8 visual novel episodes that most readers who review it on this website complete. Finally, there is the manga, in which Ryukishi makes changes (for better or for worse, depending on who you ask) to the original vision. To be honest, I find it regrettable how often the view of "the VN doesn't answer anything, if you actually want an answer read the manga!" is. It Say what you want about Ryukishi's dry prose or higher-than-thou conceit (boy do we know I have a lot to say about that), but the original vision for Umineko is a work of passion, passion that you will rarely find elsewhere. It was a saga spanning years of author/audience interaction, with all sorts of possible theories and views coming up. It was a work so unapologetically dedicated to showing the "without love it cannot be seen" theme that it went as far as to call out people who don't think for themselves. Rarely will you meet an author who gives as much of a shit as Ryukishi.

And actually, the worst thing you can do is get mad at Ryukishi for you not being able to solve it. The hints are all there, especially in episode 7, they aren't talking about some random maid named Yasu and various other things like Shannon being in the same room for no reason. But that's just life, you can't expect to figure everything out. I've read plenty of things where I didn't fully get everything but I never once blamed the author. And actually, you don't need to be able to have a valid solutions for things like Yasu's identity, episode-specific murders, or the freakin' epitaph. You don't even need to put that much time into it. It's certainly nice if you do that and especially if you figure those things out, but it's not necessary. What's important is that you try.

The readers that Ryukishi is not happy with are those that don't try. Let me clarify that I think the Umineko manga has its merits, such as with the art and Yasu's Confession, and I am glad that people are finding out about Umineko through it and enjoying it. However I think that the years of unjust hate after episode 8's original release got to Ryukishi, and so despite writing "his own version of the story that doesn't disrupt the catbox at all, it's just another view" (which no one listens to btw, it's frequently accepted as the "canon version of the story"), it gave the "goats" what they wanted. Yasu's Confession is the antithesis to what Will did in episode 7 — solving the core of the mystery in a respectful manner, with "love" for the culprit. In a vacuum it is a cool backstory, elaborating on things that are left ambiguous or more vague in a manner more preferable for some readers, but in return for this and Bernkastel being far more specific with her words at the end of the episode, a large part of what made Umineko special gets damaged, because getting told "okay, here's what ACTUALLY happened" in a story where not knowing the "objective truth" is contrary to that work's vision. And Yasu didn't want this kind of reveal, and that reveal was done in episode 7 anyway. Episode 8 is Ange's conclusion, really. Yet the manga rips the guts out of the mystery in as much detail as possible when it was never the point. Yes, the backstory is well-written, but I don't think it fits within the grander picture of what Umineko was originally striving to be.

What makes someone a "loveless" reader isn't trying to solve the mystery, it isn't wanting a different ending or themes, and it most certainly isn't being anti-escapist vs. the story easily being interpreted as an escapist one. Umineko is a work that encourages thinking from beginning to end. What actually makes someone a loveless goat is not trying to see... with love. It's being a "media consumer" that's looking for the next talked about "peak fiction" that just wants an answer and to move on without any regard for the characters and what they're going through and the themes of the story. It's the people who want another "puzzle mystery" where the sole purpose for many readers is to see murders happen and find the culprit. It's not one's fault for not figuring out absolutely everything in Umineko without outside help, but it is possible, and in any case I don't find it acceptable to blame the author for it.

And it is a mystery, at least in part. Mysteries that deal with a "catbox" situation where many solutions fit the bill have existed since at least the middle of the 20th century. Japan has had shinhonkaku — new generation Japanese mystery that breaks the tropes that classical mystery has overused like a broken record. Umineko is not the first, and it certainly won't be the last to try to see things with "love" even in the Japanese mystery catalogue alone. Any work that claims to be the end-all and be-all of a genre or whatever is very questionable by default. Mysteries that don't just involve being solved like a logical puzzle by a misanthropic detective are in abundance, too — plenty of mysteries all around the globe, especially those made in modern times care about the feelings of culprits and victims and how they affect those around them. That's not what really matters here, either, though — what makes Umineko so noteworthy is how it combines so many of these genres, themes, inspirations, aesthetics, musical styles and mixes them to deliver this core message. It is a story that tries to be so many things, released and constantly affected by the two-sided interaction between author and reader. It's honestly really hard to apply "the death of the author" to this where only the product matters in a vacuum, it's just not how it was made. Episode 3 ended up being different from the original vision due to Episode 2's audience reception, for example.

It's not just murder mystery casts that should live by the idea of "without love it cannot be seen" (within reason, I mean narcissists and psychopaths exist and the healthy approach with those is cutting contact, but moderation being key goes for anything in life). It is all of us. The people we meet and grow apart with, the ones we feel apathy or disgust for and the ones we love, everyone involved has not a singular story, but multiple stories to tell. Even they themselves rarely know that. In a way you don't really need 150+ hours on average to deliver such a relatively simple idea, but when it works, it really works.

So there you have it. Another possible view at the catbox that is my opinion on Umineko. It's very possible that tomorrow I'll wake up and think that it is awful. I feel like it's fitting that someone who has been on both sides of the spectrum write both highly negative and highly positive reviews on this work. Either way, I'm sure I won't stop thinking about Umineko for a long time.

i thought a lot about what to write about this game but not a single word could convey the feeling of finishing it. i could say it's a masterpiece (and it is) but it's not enough.
to understand beatrice's tale you need to pay attention, to learn how to love her. and it's almost impossible to not love her. the two hundred hours i spent with her and battler taught me so much about life and love and it's almost impossible to explain how you feel once you understand her.
this is also ange's story. and poor ange, who needs to learn about moving on, about the goodness and the badness of the world and the people she loves. the time i spent with ange made me think about how i want to keep living my life the fullest. the past does matter but we also need to look foward.
mostly important, i don't think i'll ever stop thinking about beatrice. she wanted so bad to be loved and i do love her. this is a story about love, written with love, after all.
sleep peacefully, my beloved witch, beatrice.

What a long, strange trip it's been.

Frankly, I wasn't sure what to expect when I started Umineko, and I barely know what to expect now, since I'm going to be inevitably roped into reading Higurashi, which some people say is better. I have a hard time imagining that. But just for argument's sake, let's lead with the bad.

I really don't like visual novels as a medium. That is to say, I like some of the more creative places they've gone (e.g., Pentiment or Christine Love's work), but in terms of the traditional genre staples such as being overlong, dependent on dialogue and lazy about prose, and some general anime-style silliness, I find them pretty grating. IMHO, most of the worst parts of Umineko exist derive from it being a visual novel.

This is a VN that desperately could have benefitted from being cut down to perhaps 3/4 or 2/3 of its size. There are some rare things (common to VNs) that could probably have been cut entirely, but the main issue is letting scenes drag on for way, way too long. I think most of the scenes in Umineko should be there in some way, but a lot of them drag on. Most episodes of Umineko resulted in me saying "wow, it's not over yet?" and not in the good way. And the prose, frankly, isn't good enough to justify the extra time spent - this, too, is common with visual novels.

I also want to say that the whodunit parts of Umineko are one of its weakest points. As an avid mystery novel lover, I think that the whodunit bits are solidly mediocre and, in ways I won't go into detail about here, unfair to the reader. I think if I were going into this with a big hope of solving the mystery it presents in the first episode, I would not have had as good of a time. BUT. I ended up not caring about them at all, and I think Umineko probably hits way better for that kind of reader.

Now for the good: Where Umineko shines is the tender, brutal way that it represents both family relationships and our individual relationships with our past - and the baggage we carry along with us. Not only that, it does something that I'm a sucker for, which is thinking about narrative, storytelling, and perception, linking all of those together sometimes in very explicit ways.

There's something incredibly complicated and beautiful about the way that all of those themes are interwoven, questioned, and picked apart in Umineko, and it presents me with such a frustrating conundrum because I don't like visual novels. But at the same time, it's doing that way, way more effectively than just about any book I can think of. It's maddening how many contradictions exist in my experience with this piece of fiction - times I was so bored I had to take a break, times I was on the edge of my seat. Multiple times I teared up and cried, others that had me shrieking with laughter over something I couldn't explain to anyone who hasn't read it without a flow chart and half an hour to burn. My opinions of characters shifted and changed over time, and yes, my theories about the story did too. Because of all that, I can safely say that I benefited greatly from reading Umineko with friends along to encourage me, by the way.

If I were judging just by.... I don't even know. The storytelling? The themes? The overall whatever-the-fuck-it-is that makes this special? I would give it a 10. But there are undeniably editing issues, and the whodunit is for sure a mediocre time, so if you're reading for that I can't imagine you having a good time. But still, what an incredible experience it's been. I am so grateful I went through it.

In the embrace of the Golden Land, their weary souls find eternal rest. Farewell, Rokkenjima. While I may not have traversed every corner of literature, Umineko stands as the pinnacle of contemporary masterpieces that I've had the privilege to experience. To Ryukishi07, thank you for this literary gem.

The true answer was in Virgilia all along, illuminated by the understanding that no mystery is unsolvable, let alone fate is not inescapable. Her reference to "remember what you once were" alludes to a moment where the shattered vase was momentarily restored, allowing the narrative to diverge, yet the ultimate outcome remains unaltered.





We may not be gods, but as humans or witches, we are capable of loving one another throughout this life of ours. Without love it cannot be seen. Riposa, riposa in pace. Dolce amore in pace.