Feels like I'm walking out of the corner of a dark room, pulling open a forbidden tome. Any time this work is mentioned, whether by friends or strangers, I feel like I'm stepping on glass recommending or giving it any sort of positivity. It is inextricably bound to my personal baggage, the way I came across it, what it meant for me, and how it's pretty much front up a problematic work I cherish. The characters featured in this work are underage, you bet your ass there's adult content, and there's all manners of triggering topics. I'm sort of walking a mental tightrope thinking about what to say because I feel like there's hounds at the heels and, honestly, I find myself idealistically clashing whether to go through with detailing my thoughts at all because of that issue when I could just keep it locked up fully private. But I want to be true to myself as well as my thoughts on art, so before going on, if the latter sentences already have you on guard, that's fair enough. I'm not going to support the morality of this kind of work being a-ok in japan, the economic incentives of japan otaku, etc.. I just want to talk about how this work means a great deal to me.
I think before picking up Fruit of Grisaia, a lot of my thoughts on romance were pretty, i guess for lack of a better word very edgy/disgruntled. Extreme bachelor/bachelorette for life vibes. Not quite incel territory but the sort of mental justification of removing yourself from the equation and thinking in some way that makes you better. I'd read a couple works, Spice and Wolf for one although I didn't finish it. Anime kind of offers itself as kind of easy to fit yourself into when you're this subtype. It was maybe 5 years ago now then where I started reading Fruit of Grisaia off a friend's tacit recommendation.
What followed wasn't transformative exactly but my mentality changed as the story progressed. Grisaia initially offers comfort with the common route, as these polar extremes of character archtypes all mesh into one classroom and you laugh and slowly get to know their quirks and deeper personalities. The dialogue is pretty great, these characters are so excellently defined in their rapport and they have a multitude of different edges that make them feel more like people than softer rounder stereotypes, slowly removing itself from the idea of archtype altogether.
It's when each character's route comes in, that it starts fully exploring their traumas and slowly uncovering realizations on the ways we think after dealing with the extreme ends of our grief. Suddenly 'quirks' make a lot more sense, motivations that feel promptly niche for some people or weird become tangible, and kind of falling down a rabbit hole of grief spirals and guilt. Guilt for many things, blaming ourselves for our own issues, and wallowing in that despair underneath while still putting on performative smiles and seeking friendship to heal over the wound. That's the VN's main appeal, that continuous grieving and self criticism, and then after acknowledging them, learning to deal and move on with them. And that way Grisaia points towards moves me on to the next point that really span my world around.
Companionship. As a still pubescent mind that I have to reiterate kind of strove away from the romantics the ways Grisaia had me invested in these characters' union with a MC (who is a total asshole gamer dork) started to really change my ideas on what I wanted in life and what I was doing acting on my own. I fell deeply in love with the romantics, how these characters comforted each other and slowly ran through the checklist of genuinely well communicated relationships. So at one point I had to sit down while reading and look at myself. Was I afraid of being hurt? Was I afraid of opening up? Do I too have issues I have to come towards and deal with, that I'm feeling comfortable sticking under a facade of stern emotions?
The answers are complicated but the year after finishing Fruit I took what I felt were the mental lessons. A year later I'd gotten into a relationship for my now 3-years going SO. I started expanding outward, letting myself be more vulnerable, I discovered or more like acknowledged my queerness, got really into romantics, found solace in being the internet punching bag furry. I don't think Fruit was entirely alone in moving this boulder but it's because it's so heavily responsible that it's ironic I never thanked or called back to it going forward. Sometimes the way you grow up or find real lessons in empathy comes from the worst places you can think of, and thusly I have no unbiased way of really acknowledging this work without again putting my personal baggage on full display.
And of course, Fruit of Grisaia isn't really perfect at all. The way the traumas are brought up aren't dealt with with the most deft of hands, and a couple of its conclusions to move forward with these issues are very anime magical and not really giving the trauma or disorder the attention it really deserves. In some ways that's fine because Yuuji as MC is designed to have to find some way to magically give some solace or solution to these characters, and the best part is that at the least, Grisaia acknowledges that none of these are perfect solutions and all the characters of Grisaia have to still, live with that trauma, even to their final days. There's still a couple asterisk quite disgusting triggering scenes as well, and it's certainly above the 'peak kamige' genre in many many ways by one) not having the MC rape at all (wow what a concept), and two) having care and context for when these triggering scenes happen. But it's still colored in shades of an individualistic but remarkably partially otaku lens nonetheless.
Still, it's going to go down in my life as problematic media #1 or close for a good deal and I'll live with that. I obviously can't recommend this to most people in fear of them finding that the stack of cards that is my mental rationalization and experience with this might be even more deeply flawed than I already acknowledge, but I'm not going to fuck around saying it's anything but amazing to me.
I think before picking up Fruit of Grisaia, a lot of my thoughts on romance were pretty, i guess for lack of a better word very edgy/disgruntled. Extreme bachelor/bachelorette for life vibes. Not quite incel territory but the sort of mental justification of removing yourself from the equation and thinking in some way that makes you better. I'd read a couple works, Spice and Wolf for one although I didn't finish it. Anime kind of offers itself as kind of easy to fit yourself into when you're this subtype. It was maybe 5 years ago now then where I started reading Fruit of Grisaia off a friend's tacit recommendation.
What followed wasn't transformative exactly but my mentality changed as the story progressed. Grisaia initially offers comfort with the common route, as these polar extremes of character archtypes all mesh into one classroom and you laugh and slowly get to know their quirks and deeper personalities. The dialogue is pretty great, these characters are so excellently defined in their rapport and they have a multitude of different edges that make them feel more like people than softer rounder stereotypes, slowly removing itself from the idea of archtype altogether.
It's when each character's route comes in, that it starts fully exploring their traumas and slowly uncovering realizations on the ways we think after dealing with the extreme ends of our grief. Suddenly 'quirks' make a lot more sense, motivations that feel promptly niche for some people or weird become tangible, and kind of falling down a rabbit hole of grief spirals and guilt. Guilt for many things, blaming ourselves for our own issues, and wallowing in that despair underneath while still putting on performative smiles and seeking friendship to heal over the wound. That's the VN's main appeal, that continuous grieving and self criticism, and then after acknowledging them, learning to deal and move on with them. And that way Grisaia points towards moves me on to the next point that really span my world around.
Companionship. As a still pubescent mind that I have to reiterate kind of strove away from the romantics the ways Grisaia had me invested in these characters' union with a MC (who is a total asshole gamer dork) started to really change my ideas on what I wanted in life and what I was doing acting on my own. I fell deeply in love with the romantics, how these characters comforted each other and slowly ran through the checklist of genuinely well communicated relationships. So at one point I had to sit down while reading and look at myself. Was I afraid of being hurt? Was I afraid of opening up? Do I too have issues I have to come towards and deal with, that I'm feeling comfortable sticking under a facade of stern emotions?
The answers are complicated but the year after finishing Fruit I took what I felt were the mental lessons. A year later I'd gotten into a relationship for my now 3-years going SO. I started expanding outward, letting myself be more vulnerable, I discovered or more like acknowledged my queerness, got really into romantics, found solace in being the internet punching bag furry. I don't think Fruit was entirely alone in moving this boulder but it's because it's so heavily responsible that it's ironic I never thanked or called back to it going forward. Sometimes the way you grow up or find real lessons in empathy comes from the worst places you can think of, and thusly I have no unbiased way of really acknowledging this work without again putting my personal baggage on full display.
And of course, Fruit of Grisaia isn't really perfect at all. The way the traumas are brought up aren't dealt with with the most deft of hands, and a couple of its conclusions to move forward with these issues are very anime magical and not really giving the trauma or disorder the attention it really deserves. In some ways that's fine because Yuuji as MC is designed to have to find some way to magically give some solace or solution to these characters, and the best part is that at the least, Grisaia acknowledges that none of these are perfect solutions and all the characters of Grisaia have to still, live with that trauma, even to their final days. There's still a couple asterisk quite disgusting triggering scenes as well, and it's certainly above the 'peak kamige' genre in many many ways by one) not having the MC rape at all (wow what a concept), and two) having care and context for when these triggering scenes happen. But it's still colored in shades of an individualistic but remarkably partially otaku lens nonetheless.
Still, it's going to go down in my life as problematic media #1 or close for a good deal and I'll live with that. I obviously can't recommend this to most people in fear of them finding that the stack of cards that is my mental rationalization and experience with this might be even more deeply flawed than I already acknowledge, but I'm not going to fuck around saying it's anything but amazing to me.
1 Comment
I don't know if I could be so vulnerable in my own writing, and seeing you be so honest with yourself here about what this work means to you reminds me that I still have a long way to go. Fantastic review and makes me want to check this out.
Ashcan
2 years ago