Why Call Tanya Evil?

Welcome, all, again.  For my last two reviews, I have explored the serious themes underpinning two very different comedy series.  And so I thought, why not just go ahead and tackle something with a bit more heft?  How about the senselessness and tragedy of war, the hypocrisy of a theological concept of free will, or even the duplicity of deities themselves?  And for a finale, why not briefly explore the concept of evil?  Oh, but this sounds like a boisterous handful, so pull on your tallest boots and get ready to wade deep!  Because this time around we’re discussing Saga of Tanya the Evil.

First, a quick synopsis: Tanya is a petite, blonde girl of European (German) birth who is actually the reincarnated soul of a murdered Japanese salaryman.  She has been born into an alternate world as it staggers into its first World War, about a decade later than did ours.  Because of this later timeline, we witness equipment and tactics reflecting both of our World Wars.  Moreover, magic exists in this world and is readily employed in combat.  And Tanya is just brimming with the stuff!

Magic, however, is not the only thing Tanya carries–in defiance of most concepts of reincarnation with which I am familiar, she is born fully cognizant of her past life.  From her very first conscious thoughts, she is aware of this new dichotomy within her nature.  Now, might this be burden or advantage?  Because such knowledge definitely helps her seem preternaturally  precocious.  But just how much does the arrangement strain her sanity?  Nor does it help that the cause of her strange situation has followed her from life to life, a mysterious deity offended by Tanya’s lack of spiritual faith in both her lives.  It was this being who harangued the doomed salaryman, freezing and prolonging his moment of violent death in order to question and then taunt him about faith, and who then becomes increasingly active in Tanya’s new life despite initially intimating non-interference.   In fact, during his stasis before death, Tanya’s former self had deduced that this interloper was more likely the Devil rather than God.  Unwilling to recognize either as real, however, he designated his tormentor Being X–but it seems the Devil still wants his due.

For while we viewers did not spend much time with Tanya’s former self, we can nonetheless deduce that in her new life she is placed firmly within the parameters of a Judeo/Christian (or Judeo/Christian-like) theology, as witnessed by the wordings of her prayers/spells.  And so her situation gains an immediate familiarity, mirroring Job’s persecution by Satan.  Except, of course, that this time the Devil’s goal is to lead the unwilling to God, rather than drag the faithful away.  OK, you say, that makes no sense at all.  But doesn’t it?  What better revenge for Satan than to make God himself the source of a soul’s torment?  What more elegantly understated way to demand of God: why allow free will if to employ it is to fall from grace?  Why create cognizant creatures, only to punish their self-actualization?  Mind you, I’m not seeking to challenge anyone’s religious beliefs here.  I’m simply pointing out that–from the perspective of a culture not intimately familiar with the historical growth of Christian thought and tradition–it probably all seems a bit convoluted, if not sometimes hypocritical.  And that’s without delving into the traditions that deny free will.

No need.  After all, the suppression and denial of free will are inherent to the military, most especially during the vacuum of war.  Indeed, free will is the antithesis of military order.  To wit, orders are issued; orders are received; orders are executed.  Any variation compromises the mission.  And as a rising star of the [German] Empire’s army, Tanya refuses compromise.  Of course, war is bigger than any one person, and it’s not as if the majority of people actually fighting a war ever had a say in beginning it–which fact itself does nothing to detract from the perceived righteousness of their causes.  But why must ideals be thought so much more valuable than people?  (Don’t look now, but I think you dogma might have rabies. . .)

And that finally brings us to the question of evil.  Why, within the framework of this series, is Tanya called evil?  Is it because she acts in her own best interest?  Don’t we all, occasionally?  Is it because she consistently subjugates compassion to logic?  While that might make her unpleasant company, calling it evil seems to stretch credibility.  Perhaps, then, because she is so ruthless in battle?  This sounds more likely, especially when we consider the long shadows cast by such figures as Genghis Khan or Attila the Hun.  Or is it ultimately because she denies not just God’s grace, but his very existence?  Certainly the nuns who taught me catechism in my youth considered atheism the epitome of evil.  But at seven episodes in, I still can’t offer a satisfactory answer.  Self-serving, unfeeling, likely psychopathic, and even somewhat depraved all aptly describe Tanya; I’ve thus far seen nothing to indicate evil as I interpret the word, meaning to deliberately cause unnecessary pain or destruction.  Or might the evil within the title really be one of those “lost-in-translation” situations?

I like this show.  A lot.  It’s brave, relatively fast-paced, and exhibits a gallows humor all too rare in the shows I’ve seen lately.  And while admittedly dark, with grim themes, it is beautifully drawn and animated (despite the frequent use of CGI).  So sit down and make yourself comfortable–you won’t stay so for long, I promise.

Addendum (03 March, 2017–Per Episode 8):

And no sooner do I post the above review than an episode arrives that presents Tanya seeming to make unconscionable decisions regarding what we now call urban warfare.  She is ordered to engage and destroy enemy forces within a formerly captured city, then informed that all civilians remaining after an ordered evacuation will legally be considered enemy combatants.  To wit, she is being ordered to kill civilians.  To be fair, native militia and armed partisans are organic to occupations–and they are most certainly combatants!  Engaging them is simple–if brutal–reality.  That they melt into and hide within civilian populations is also factual.  This means that engaging them almost assures some amount of collateral damage.  It should be remembered, however, that these actors come to the occupiers’ attention only through their own efforts; they signal their presence through their actions.  Put bluntly, they initiate others’ efforts to destroy them.  And it is their disappearance into the larger civilian population that immediately endangers those civilians.

I would next point out something that might have easily been overlooked, the fact that Tanya challenged the initial order by tossing it right back to her commanding officer.  In the military, when you receive an order, you execute that order.  Tanya instead repeated it, with commentary, back to the superior who had issued it.  This was clearly a challenge to its content.  Admittedly, the issue is muddied by the late revelation of a paper she had previously submitted concerning the legalities of engaging civilian populaces.  Was the paper a nod to the reality of engaging civilians, while her challenge represented her true opinion?  Or was that challenge simply to camouflage her own embrace of the tenets of total warfare?  Either way, the fact that she issued the challenge is undeniable.

Dresden, 1945

Last, I would caution against anyone getting comfortable on what they might consider moral high ground.  Tanya is, after all, from our own world.  And in our world, civilians have almost always been targeted during war, and by all sides of a conflict.  After all, it is civilians who supply their army; eradicate the civilians and their army starves.  Or freezes.  Or finds some other uncomfortable way to die.  Consider World War II: as to hiding behind legalities, did Japan really think that declaring war minutes before the bombs fell on Pearl Harbor would negate its being a surprise attack?  That was, after all, their plan.  And as for targeting civilians, did the US really think that it was destroying important military targets by firebombing huge swaths of residential Tokyo?  In both cases, the larger target was the enemy’s morale.  So let’s rain rockets onto London!  And let’s burn Dresden to the ground!  Let’s crush enemy morale through indiscriminate slaughter!  If Tanya is truly walking this path, might it not be simply because she realizes its inevitability?  To willingly employ a tactic does offer at least the possibility of controlling both its progression and its outcome.  And while this latest episode might indeed finally signal Tanya’s descent into evil, I still have hope for her.  After all, she’s still true enough to herself to fight against divine intervention in her life. . .and that might yet prove a strength beyond the reach of any external power.





On the Horns of a Dilemma: Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid

Welcome, all, again.  I’ve been catching up on episodes and even whole series which I missed because of my trip back in January.  And while one or two proved to be false starts (down paths which I simply did not want to travel), I have been mainly pleased.  One show in particular has won my heart despite what I considered a rather anemic beginning: Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid.  The advertising blurbs did not impress me, nor did peeks at the artwork.  Indeed, when I watched the first episode, I was wavering at midpoint as to whether or not to continue.  It so happens, however, that as a rule I generally tend to watch a series’ first two episodes.  And that rule has stood me in good stead, allowing me to discover greatness where I at first saw, well, squat; The Asterisk War [http://918thefan.com/2015/the-wandering-witch-goes-to-war/ ] springs immediately to mind.  Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid has proven to be another series that rewards viewers for the time they invest.

We first meet Kobayashi: she has a job that pays the bills but doesn’t seem to impress or excite her; she has her one-bedroom apartment; and she has a distinct like of alcohol.  (In truth, she sounds like the majority of young singles whom I know.)  If there is anything that sticks out about her, it is her tendency to wear slacks, shirt, and tie to work, dressing more like a salaryman than office lady.  But for all we know, her work group might have a specific dress code–I’m not reading anything into her clothing choices.  (After all, at neither of my jobs do I even get a choice.)  She’s just your average workaday stiff. . .who one evening, too plastered to be cautious, helps save the life of a wounded dragon she encounters.  But it was all in the drink, right?

Wrong.  Tohru is quite real, a dragon who was grievously wounded in her own world during a battle with humans, but somehow managed to escape to ours.  Too weak to resist Kobayashi and probably expecting her death blow, Tohru is instead smitten by the kindness shown her.  She falls in love with her rescuer and vows to stay with her, to that end offering herself as Kobayashi’s maid.  Tohru’s sudden appearance, however, is a surprise to Kobayashi, whose memories of the night before are at best hazy.  Having a dragon at her door seems something of a terrifying inconvenience, and having that dragon transform into a busty blonde girl with horns and tail doesn’t do much to alleviate things.  Kobayashi immediately declines Tohru’s offer, and it is from this point that the show begins to quietly reveal its greatness.

Because this is more than a show about dragons, or even about dragons interacting with humans.  Like both Usagi Drop and Sweetness and Lightning before it, this is a show exploring and celebrating the malleable nature of family.  And while it takes a more comedic approach to the subject than did its predecessors, the emotional resonance is real.  In a searing moment crystallized by the tears forming in Tohru’s eyes, Kobayashi feels her loneliness, her despair, and now a sudden sense of abandonment and rejection.  And Kobayashi realizes that she has a choice: protect herself or protect this stranger who has nothing but her.  More importantly, Kobayashi acts.  Tohru, it seems, has a new home.


But not just Tohru–birds of a feather, after all.  Exiled from their world for what is described as a prank, Kanna is a very young dragon (in human form, she is of grade-school age) who seeks the familiar comfort of Tohru’s company.  She strongly disapproves of Tohru living with a human and initially attacks Kobayashi, but has lost all her power in traveling between worlds.  And it is only after attacking her hostess that Kanna realizes she has nowhere to stay.  Seeing Tohru’s agony–and completely unwilling to abandon a child–Kobayashi invites Kanna to move in, prompting their move to a larger apartment.  Because, honestly, Kobayashi is liking the changes in her life.  Tohru’s love is making her a happier person, and Kanna’s presence (and changed attitude) only increases the love all around.  In fact, Kobayashi plainly sees them as a family, finding humor in her own role as “father,” although Kanna seems to view her more as a mother figure while seeing Tohru as an older sister.  But no matter; roles don’t make a family, love does.

Honestly, with this series offering such an underwhelming start, I came in cold and expecting very little.  I was wrong.  Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid has proven an emotionally uplifting show that I now eagerly anticipate each week!  It is, like the family it follows, so much more than the sum of its parts.  We’ve been given here a thing of rare beauty, and I encourage you to watch.

[Parental Note: Here be fan service!  But it’s done tongue-in-cheek, and even the characters recognize and occasionally skewer it.]