Hira Hira Hihiru Musings
Writers and directors often talk about the "one for you, one for me" phenomenon. They make a work with broad appeal to gather eyeballs and break records, and they use those tentpole works to fund their more personal, heartfelt pieces; the introspective after-parties that not everyone is going to show up for. And I think this attitude is healthy, not just on a basic human level, but also as a capitalist society. We can't be all in on making number bigger day-in and day-out, because when we let that obsession sink its hooks into us, we forget why we're even trying so hard. We forget that none of us are getting out of this alive. So I think it's important from time to time to let creators take a breather and plant some roadside roses.
But this doesn't just apply to creatives. There's an almost incessant push in our screen-led society to always be up-to-date, to have an opinion at the ready for every latest topic of discourse. What do you mean you haven't seen the latest Knives Out? It's literally on Plorble. Wha, you haven't tried Expedition 33? Ah, but opinion-haver, haven't you seen the drama? In retrospect, you probably shouldn't have played it after all. Et cetera et cetera.
We're drowning in the current of the Zeitgeist we call progress, and if you fall below the rapids it's treated as a personal failing. You're out of vogue, your opinion report out-of-date. And I don't like that. It leads to whipping yourself when your personal feelings are out of alignment with society's vectors, and also stifles the creative force boiling away within all of us. Yes, there are these major releases that it's best to be ahead of to give yourself a sturdy foundation. I don't mean to advocate for sticking your head in the sand. But you can't always be chasing trends, lest you'll wake up one day to find you're all foundation no windows, like some kind of brutalist architecture. Sometimes, it's good to kick back, choose something off the beaten path that speaks to your soul, and let it enrich you. Nourish that soul flower.
Call it "one for me, one for me".
Anyway, Hira Hira Hihiru. It's a 2023 visual novel written by Setoguchi Ren'ya, who has to be one of my top 3 favorite visual novel writers. It's about a fictional disease called Aerodema (風爛病=Fuuranshou in the original) that 'brings the dead back to life'. To be precise, it's a disease that makes it appear as though people are dead initially, before reviving them a few days later with deteriorated mental and physical capabilities. The story is set in post Meiji Restoration 1910s Japan, and depicts the struggles of researchers and doctors influenced by then-modern Western techniques as they try to overturn preconceptions and superstitions about the disease and introduce more humane care for sufferers.
In the center of the gathered relatives, the white-robed figure was collapsed onto their front, their long hair in disarray. Strands of hair trailed onto the tatami mat, snow-white like threads of silk.
This year I've had the pleasure of traversing the gamut of Setoguchi's works starting from his more recent Black Sheep Town——almost undeniably his masterpiece——through his first work Carnival——almost undeniably NOT a masterpiece——and quite a few works in-between. Though his prose trends stiflingly stringent, I find his approach to storytelling a breath of fresh air, taking big inspiration from the works of Dostoevsky and other literary creators of flawed protagonists. And unlike most of his VN writer cohort, he understands almost implicitly that referencing literature and being literature are almost diametrically opposed goals.
In general, his approach to writing is beautifully restrained, often dancing around the message he wants to deliver but still playing coy, trusting the reader's own powers of inference. He carries with him a unique portrait of humanity, and narrative is his way of sharing it with the class. And he's been doing it for decades——Carnival came out in 2004, and if we look at it in terms of writing quality alone, he's always been firing on all cylinders.
Hihiru is his latest work, and I can see some people seeing it as a little capstone on Black Sheep Town. BST was about the 'black sheep' in society, focusing on the methods taken and fallout that results when those ousted from normal society due to drugs, crime, poverty and mental illness form communities and forge their own path. Hihiru takes this mental illness part of the equation, and shines a big fat spotlight on it, exploring how these diseases strain not just the afflicted, but their family, lovers and societal systems as a whole. Are we equipped to deal with a class of people with these problems? Do we even understand the implications?
When they see him, the students collectively hold their breath.
I dug up an interview with Setoguchi where he talked about his experience working in a mental hospital many years ago, and it's striking how this experience indelibly defined him not just as a writer but as a person. His writing explores the nature of evil, and why people are capable of doing such horrible things to one another. But while most works claiming to explore this are inhumane and amoral in their understanding of humanity, Setoguchi's works also possess an unwavering, emphatic faith that despite our flaws, we are all human, and all deserve love.
In Hihiru, the obvious message is about the rights of those with mental illnesses. But if the story was simply about that, then it wouldn't be much of a theme. Most people agree that those with mental disorders deserve sympathy and welfare——well, you'd hope so. But what hits me about Hihiru is its outpour of empathy not just for the afflicted, but for everyone. Even those directly responsible for harm, or who spread rumors and misinformation in fear about how the afflicted might act, or the government officials making misguided calls in the name of justice or retribution. In Setoguchi's view of the world, the enemy is the disease and nobody else. We're all tragic figures——all just ordinary humans——stuck doing the best we can with our flawed abilities to reason and our limited capacity to care for those around us, and if you trace the backstories of the 'villains' they too are victims in their own way.
Looking at the response to the VN at large, some people take this as a negative, and I can see why. Under this worldview, free will and moral action seems to fade away to the backstage, excused because individual actors 'had a poor upbringing' or 'were caught up in the moment'. This is a fair perspective. Setoguchi adopts an apolitical stance for the most part in his writing, one which outside of providing empathy for the characters in his works, doesn't particularly seek to criticize or interrogate society as a whole. While Hihiru nominally critiques the government policies at the time, it doesn't really have much to say for individuals responsible for suffering. Everything is systematic, and nobody is at fault.
I personally don't take this as a failing, however. Setoguchi's perspective here is not one informed by societal critique or political opinion, but a therapeutic response to a complex, multifaceted world——a world all too large and all too traumatic for us simple-minded ape-like creatures. There's a therapist Youtuber I rather enjoy called Euro Brady, whose playthrough of Disco Elysium hit similar notes for me. Brady's interpretation of Disco was a thoroughly apolitical one——not because politics don't matter or shouldn't be in stories or anything like that, but because they're the tip of the iceberg when it comes to exploring what a human being is and our attitudes to the people around us.
When we're tasked with taking care of somebody unable to feed themselves or use the toilet on their own, it isn't moralistic or political concerns that drive us, but animalistic ones: Are we getting enough sleep to keep this level of care going? Do we feel trapped in this situation? Is it too traumatic for us to bear seeing a loved one no longer remember our own face? While having more money, education and resources help with the circumstances, they can't stop the inevitable. In the world of Hihiru, Aerodema is indiscriminate, and Setoguchi depicts many characters suffering regardless of social or economic class.
“We're all *ordinary humans*. All of us, not just the people suffering from Aerodema. The wise and the foolish, the nobles and the commoners, rich or poor; it doesn't matter what you start out with. We're all human in the end... If you ask me, it's baffling——why waste so much time butting heads and tearing each other down when, from the moment we're born, we're given only a fleeting time here before our inevitable end comes calling? It isn't just today that I've been wrestling with this. It never made sense to me, even as a child.”
I adore this VN, and I think it has the unique quality of being entirely independent from what's 'in the vogue' or chasing trends. It sets itself apart not just from anime games, but the video game and genre fiction market as a whole, telling a very touching, personal story with (light) elements of societal critique and character drama. When I read Hihiru, I feel like I'm turning the pages of memoirs penned by a primary caregiver, with all the heartbreak and self-examination that comes with. Knowing Setoguchi's background that's likely the inspiration, too. It's a heartfelt, honest story without any mind-blowing moments, but not vapid or saccharine by any means. While there aren't many similar examples in VN-land, I think maybe Mushishi, or Sangatsu no Lion would be the best comparisons?
Also worthy of praise, I think, is the art, music and voice acting. This is one area where Hihiru sets itself heads and shoulders above BST——the production values are simply stunning. For whatever reason, Aniplex put their financial backing into this VN despite it clearly not being a big seller, and it's blessed with a wonderful sense of style and direction as a result. I'm a fan of how Setoguchi uses art in his visual novels, focusing on important moments and cut-ins over the traditional 'textbox at the bottom' style which I've grown quite tired of personally. Many of the Japanese voice actors are well-renowned, and the performances are excellent, especially Ueda Reina as Haruko, who did a wondrous job.[1]
The girl's name was Tsunemi Haruko. The only daughter of the household providing me with accommodation.
Hihiru additionally offers an English translation, which is rare for the fare I tend to pick up on this blog. I touched it briefly, and my impressions were that it was reasonably accurate and worth reading, though it did seem to exacerbate the stuffiness inherent to Setoguchi's writing. I think my ideal translation of his works would try to loosen the text up a little to let it breathe.
One aspect I do want to criticize is the choice system. It's interesting in that you can explore the alternative outcomes available to these characters——how would things have gone if they actually delivered on that sudden human impulse of theirs? There's an attempt here to show how even our protagonists are just flawed people in the end, and were this close from making regrettable choices of their own. But I came off wishing this effort was spent just making it a longer kinetic novel instead. There isn't much meat on the bones for these alternative stories, so they come across as a weaker version of what you could be reading instead.
For me, Hihiru is an unceremonious 9/10. This is a funny score after all that rambling praise I offered to Shigatsu Youka and Manosaba earlier this year. Can you really give something a 9/10 this easily? You haven't even written 4000 words yet, Twog! But it deserves it. There's the 9/10 that's painstakingly earned by breaking new ground and reaching new heights, where the foundation might wobble or appear to sink when you inspect closely. They're the ones that get you rabid and raving, desperate to share those dizzying peaks with others willing to ignore the muck scattered in the troughs down below.
And then there's the 9/10 you hand out just because it's a damn good story that makes you feel things.
Imagine a burger vs an apple. Visual novels are, for the most part, burger entertainment. Not to imply that they're always fast food, but they're often lavish caloric marvels, spanning dozens of hours and beckoning you to come out of the affair mystified and fatter. And people love burgers! But everyone has to eat an apple sometime. Hihiru is unassuming, and healthy. Nobody can get mad at you for consuming it, least of all yourself. And it's tasty, too. So next time you need to stop at the side of the road, finally over with your last burger, I recommend you treat yourself to Hihiru as your apple. It's good for you.
I'm going to go make lunch.
