Fuujin Monogatari

First off I will admit that I am softy for Slice of Life series. My top five anime series are all about teenage girls exploring day to day life and Windy Tales (Fuujin Monogatari) is one of them.

Immediately the unique animation style struck me. Why is a story about a high school girl who likes to take pictures of clouds drawn in such an obscure way? The animation at times accentuates certain features we would not normally notice and obscures other features making the characters look a part of their environment. Whenever I see pictures of Windy Tales I get overjoyed, they satisfy ever corner ... of my eyes as normal anime characters don't. There's no sparkle in their irises or shiny wetness to their hair, they look sharp, drawn and fit like puzzle pieces in the background. I see this more as a good thing, it adds a spice and an absurb warped view on the story as if we're looking through slanted glass.

The stories in each episode are heart warming but not over-the-top or dramatic at all. They don't inspire or teach, but they settle. I feel calm and completely pacified after each episode but nowhere near bored. The placement of the music makes me feel like I'm lost in a happy memory and the nostalgic feel is superior to anything Azumanga Daioh ever achieved. I wanted to rest my head while watching but I didn't want to sleep in case I missed a beautiful still shot of clouds reflecting in windows with that amazing track playing, it's those small seemingly insignificant scenes which makes Windy Tales so special to those who want to appreciate it.

The characters themselves are sweet, cute in a different way to girls in Manabi Straight!, and all so familiar. I would be lying if I said Windy Tales had no sentimental effect on me. Nao looks almost exactly like my older sister and in fact all the characters look similar, their almond shaped eyes and teddy bear like mouths, they all look kind and mature but at the same time very innocent.
I would add other reasons why the series is special to me above all others but then you'd assume it's an acquired taste. Well, it is. Not everyone will like this, but if you're one for very niche anime then this one is a diamond in the cave. There are moments where I feel like I'm a part of the conversation, or a part of the memories. Episode 10 has some of the most astounding scenes I've experienced in anime and episode 5 is my personal favorite episode from any anime of all time. Everybody should watch it even if they don't intend to finish the series.

Fuujin Monogatari, or Windy Tales, was a real treat to watch.

It's a very experimental anime, which is a rarity in the slice of life genre. Right off the bat, one will notice that the art style is seemingly messy and hastily drawn. In fact, it could even be called ugly. However, I found that it complemented the wind element of the show and meshed quite nicely with the animation. What struck me most about the art were the character designs: those tiny hands and feet, as well as those angular eyes that give the characters a distinct Asian appearance. I was also impressed by how ... highly expressive the characters' faces were. Joy, surprise, and even fear were depicted very effectively, despite the rather simple facial features of the characters.

Wind is the primary element that drives Fuujin Monogatari. Or rather, it starts off that way. During the first few episodes, the characters learn how to control the wind, but by episode three, these wind powers sort of fade into the background as the show becomes more episodic in nature. A more conventional slice-of-life show would have probably shown the characters using their powers in everyday situations, but we don't really see this in Fuujin Monogatari. Although the concept of wind control is revisited occasionally throughout the show, it mainly serves as a motif and is often paralleled with the occurrences and themes in each episode. For instance, the act of controlling the wind is often likened to showing responsibility and taking control of one's life. Of course, this is never stated outright; it's up to the viewers to catch the subtle messages behind an event or a character's actions.

Although the show is soothing and even lighthearted at times, it's not afraid to show those darker moments in life. For example, one episode depicts the change in attitude of a character who was involved in a near-fatal motorcycle accident. Another episode contains a metaphorical scene in which the act of suicide is illustrated with haunting imagery. Fuujin Monogatari is honest in its portrayal of events — a refreshing trait in a genre full of optimism and carefreeness.

As with all slice of life shows, Fuujin Monogatari is driven by its cast, and fortunately the characters here are quite likeable and respectfully represented. The main character of the show is Nao. Observant and thoughtful, she is one of only two members of her middle school's photography club, the other being her best friend Miki, who is more assertive. They are eventually joined by a boy named Jun, who becomes Miki's love interest. He's a bit of an airhead and provides much of the comic relief in the show. Although the characters don't get too much development, their personalities do get fleshed out and they feel delightfully genuine. I mean, Nao considers Benjamin Franklin her idol! Even the adults in the show, such as Taiki and even Nao's parents, are well depicted and play meaningful roles in several episodes. Oh, and I almost forgot to mention the flying cats, who have their own special moments.

Another aspect of the show I enjoyed was the dialogue. It's subdued and representative of what people would say in everyday situations. After all, Nao and everyone around her are just normal people living their lives, and it's great to see that the dialogue is driven by their characterization and not by drama or plot. For example, there's one episode in which Nao listens to two adults talking about traveling. The conversation is very matter-of-fact, almost boring, but it provides a lot of insight into the adults' personalities.

The music in Fuujin Monogatari is calm and very soothing, greatly enhancing the atmosphere of the show. There's the typical soft piano tracks, of course, but some songs incorporate bells and even the flute, which are very befitting for the show's wind motifs. In addition, the OP is incredible and captures the essence of the show very well. It's one of those OPs that you never skip.

With all that being said, Fuujin Monogatari is not a perfect show. The characters' wind control powers are never really explored in depth, which may be off-putting. Episodes vary in quality, which is to be expected of an episodic series. While I don't consider any of them "bad," there are undoubtedly some episodes that are weaker than others. Also, the concept of wind is not incorporated in every episode (and in some, it's very loosely connected at best), making those episodes seem thematically detached from the rest of the series.

From its unique art style to its down-to-earth nature, Fuujin Monogatari is worth a watch for anyone who's interested in something a little different from the typical slice of life fare.

Wow, if ever an anime can leave me speechless, this would be it. The reviewer before me has done such a good job that I really don't stand a chance now do I? lol I'm just going to add that this anime has the most beautiful score I have ever heard. No it's not everyone's cup of tea (I know the animation style can put many people off; though personally, I find it cute and very interesting), but honestly, I could watch it without visuals or words - the music is just that captivating. So go on, if you're in the mood to watch something ... intriguing that will leave you feeling calm and strangely content, check this out. It's no masterpiece, but maybe it will have as special and mysterious an effect on you as it did on me..

Slice of life as a genre has a small problem. By itself, there is not much to base an entire show on – there has to be some sort of focus, a setting or concept that allows for individual stories to exist while also providing a solid base that pulls all of the ideas together. Fuujin Monogatari takes its identity as an episodic slice of life show to heart, almost to a fault – the individual episodes contain themes and ideas that are usually interesting and sometimes even compelling, but there is just about no connection between episodes thematically. The consequence to this is that ... Fuujin Monogatari is a show of widely varying quality.

Not to say that there is not a string tying the show together, loosely at least. That string is the titular wind, which the main characters (among others) can control at will, for some reason. This seems like it might be an important mechanic that would set Fuujin Monogatari apart from similar shows, such as having the main characters using the wind powers in otherwise normal situations to make them more interesting. In execution it is actually not so. Instead, the show offers a low key usage of the wind powers, mostly used for interesting visual effects while the story and the characters take breathing time. This is also useful for the viewer, as this downtime provides a relaxing section of an episode where one can reflect on the events that have occurred; on the other hand, these scenes could be replaced by just about any sort of relaxing or visually interesting scene, making the wind mechanic seem like little more than a gimmick in the end. A very pretty gimmick.

The art in the show is a juxtaposition of purposefully rough character designs and almost impressionist background art, which works to a good effect and is most definitely the strongest part of the production. The minimalist design of the characters allows for exaggerated yet meaningful motions and facial expressions, and they also give the characters a definitively “Asian” look. There is not much detail in their designs; luckily, the show avoids characters looking too similar to each other by keeping the cast small, though in darker scenes where you can't see the color of their hair they look a little too similar. The backgrounds, though, are consistently beautiful. It's almost a shame that Nao is so obsessed with taking pictures of clouds, because the world of Fuujin Monogatari is lovely and detailed, contrasting in many ways the simple character designs – though they both share the sketchy, purposefully rushed-appearing aesthetic, keeping the overall feel of the show internally consistent, despite the huge difference in detail.

There are also some cool visual ideas used sparingly in the show - portraying texts with handwritten-looking colored text on the screen, or a phone call by overlaying the characters onto each others' settings, or flashbacks and dreams indicated with characters filled in with a single color. On one hand I appreciate that it did not abuse these things, but on the other they feel a bit wasted, sometimes only being used once in the whole run.

Similarly, the soundtrack and voice acting are lovely but subdued. This is a good thing – the sound is never overbearing, but is consistently supportive of the atmosphere that Fuujin Monogatari naturally builds. Voice acting is done in a subtle way, never overacting but also hardly ever relaying strong emotion, even when a scene calls for it, which is unfortunate.

However, the most hit and miss aspect of the entire production is the writing. As I stated before, there is little consistency when it comes to theme. Supporting others, avoiding responsibility, and finding your worth are all examples of ideas that Fuujin Monogatari plays with, but none is given a decent amount of time before the next comes along to take its place. In this sense, Fuujin Monogatari tries to live up to its main character Nao's goal as stated in the very first scene – to capture the wind. Like the wind, Fuujin Monogatari moves and changes as it pleases. Consequentially, not all episodes are created equal. There are a handful of absolutely amazing, perfectly executed episodes, and it is not a coincidence that these episodes tend to make good use of the interesting visual style matched with an equally simple concept as well as Nao as a competent narrator, but there are many more flops, usually too self-indulgent to come off as meaningful.

The episode about trying to get a perfect picture of a runner, for example, manages to use Fuujin Monogatari's strengths to much better effect than an episode about helping a momonga learn to fly, even though the latter has much more to do with the show's distinguishing idea. I should also point out an episode that takes place almost entirely in the nurse's office, featuring a fever dream contrasted by a completely normal conversation which utilizes Fuujin Monogatari's visual style to an extent never matched again.

If only every episode was as simple and effective as that one, this show would be an instant classic. As it stands, though, it is a compilation of mostly uninspired stories interspersed with small moments of genius. If you are a fan of the slice of life genre, you will definitely find plenty to like in this show, but people less patient with the trappings of the genre will frequently have their patience tested.

Windy Tales is a slice of life anime. It doesn't try to be anything more or less than what it is, and that is what makes it shine.

As a slice-of-life, Windy Tales premise is relevant enough in each episode to create interest, but doesn't overshadow the stories themselves. Although the main characters learn about moving the wind to their advantage, we don't see them use it to fight evil or get what they want. Instead we see them go through their day to day lives WITH this power. The power to move wind isn't the main plot, the characters are. Personally, I found this to ... be a breath of fresh air. When a show has characters with powers, we don't think of slice-of-life. Instead we think of shonen anime, magical girl anime, adventure anime, anything BUT slice-of-life. Rarely is it we get to see a calm slice-of-life anime with powers in between, and it was very fun to watch it for what it was.

The animation and art of Windy Tales is obviously very unique. One could even compare it to some of Masaaki Yuasa's works. The characters don't look like the typical anime characters, with small eyes, and their bodies looking like they were made up of shapes, sometimes uneven and rough. I personally loved the look of it. The art style was very innovative, and made it even more fun to watch the show.
The Soundtrack was mostly in the background, barely there. It wasn't really anything new to listen to, and wasn't amazing in any way, but it didn't need to be. it was there to give atmosphere, which overall made me feel relaxed as I watched. The music was good, and fulfilled its purpose.

The characters to Windy Tales, as stated above, were the main focus of the series. As such, each were fleshed out accordingly. Each character was distinct and entertaining. By the end of the show, each character would've grown on you by being themselves. Now, not EVERY single character got development, mostly just the main three, but those that did were the highlight of the show.

Overall, Windy Tales was a pleasant take on the slice-of-life genre. The animation style was refreshing, the sound relaxing, and the characters enjoyable. Not every episode was enjoyable, there were some in the middle that were, at the very least, repeated themselves a bit too much, but most episodes were a lot of fun to go through. I highly recommend this show to people who like unique slice-of-life shows, as well as those who have yet to get into the genre. It has enough of the 'wind power' premise to keep one interested and entertained, and that was more than enough for me.

"I hope they didn't get too excited, soaring on these winds and drifting away, drowning... Sometimes, they drown in the sky and are lost. Just like people get swallowed by the waves."

Fuujin Monogatari is an example of an anime whose aesthetic is so well cultivated that its main theme, wind, is represented in every aspect. The rough, have seen it described as "draft-like," art; the music and sound design, the visuals, character designs and story-lines will all remind the the viewer of wind. Not just the idea of wind but the experience of it.

The creators of this show seemed content to be suggestive rather ... than overt in their exploration of this theme. This works out very well for the show, especially the way they handled the fantasy elements. As fantastical, and strange, as they are the viewer is often only able to see them moving in the background. The ordinary takes center stage, however these elements form a core to the show that cannot be ignored. It is in this manner that the anime is able to explore its main thematic material and get its message (whatever that is) across. It seems apparent that what we see is meant to be taken literally. However, FM blurs the line between visual metaphor and fantasy in the way every other allegorical anime tries to do. I think it is the most successful in this aspect. Clearly there is something this anime wants to tell us. However the creators must have felt that wrapping it up in the right package was more important than bombarding us. This works out very well for basically every second of the anime. Can't say this enough but the modus operandi of Fuujin Monogatari is subtlety and it's ingenious
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Wind is constant movement and is evidence for the passage of time and of change. Whether it be the experience of growing up, feelings of nostalgia, looking forward, looking back, experiencing a mid-life crisis, worrying, contemplating; all of these experiences occur in time and are of time, we find all of these experiences explored in this anime. Sometimes subtly sometimes more directly. What we find is that FM may be more of a show about time than of wind. This is often portrayed in the dialogue of the series but can also be seen within the animation itself.

The series moves at a slow pace allowing the viewer to get lost in the unique art style. It is often optimistic but at times somber. Contemplative, nuanced and subtle. The characters themselves are interesting even if they only exist as another piece of the artistic puzzle. Dialogue is realistic (and just like I like it) well placed and brief. It is episodic in nature. Timelines within the episodes themselves are sometimes experimented with in a neat way, this and plenty of other small touches would be better if experienced rather than read about. The anime wants to engross you, so you better get engrossed! FM isn't an anime you can get away with watching while eating a sandwich and drinking a beer. I learned that the hard way.

I would call this a mature series. Not in the sense of its content but of its message and style. Had I watched this as a kid I don't see how this wouldn't have changed my life. Watching now I can only appreciate everything it does. It uses its intelligence to make you feel rather than think. (I had a huge smile on my face throughout the entire series)


Some other comments:
When I watched episode 7 I felt that it was prophetic of a certain kind of ending. I was wrong, though not disappointed. Also, I felt this was a very emotional anime, its subtlety is contagious so you only feel tinges however.

Instant favorite? Possibly. Worth a re-watch, definitely.

Fuujin Monogatari (Windy Tales)

Having just finished Windy Tales, I have no idea.... what I just watched. A slice of life about 2 girls who learn to manipulate wind. Miki and Nao are best friends who are apart of the Digital Photography Club. Nao loves to take pictures of the sky or rather, the clouds and the wind. Through this Nao and Miki discover a girl who can manipulate wind, Ryouko; she tells Nao how she too, can learn this ability. Flying cats are involved too and they really set the story in motion.

The story, if there is one, is either too deep or ... metaphorical for me to understand, unfortunately I'm not so good at picking things apart and trying to understand deeper meanings of a show, so to me, Windy Tales was a very nice, slow slice of life anime.

I really liked the art style, it's what drew me to watch Windy Tales in the first place. Instead of having just the clouds and sky and wind be extra stylized, the entire anime is stylized and man, it's incredible. There are probably hundreds of ways one could draw a world to symbolize things like the wind and the clouds, I feel like Windy Tales did a fantastic job showing us a really unique and special outlook on a world where the wind is more than an unseen force. I absolutely enjoyed seeing the wind visualized and when it's being manipulated, I love the multi colored lines to show that it was being manipulated.

Music and all things related to audio in Windy Tales is phenomenal, there are so many good piano arrangements and really good pieces of music being played. There are certain songs that use drums and it really hits you while watching the crazy art and story unfold. The OP is absolutely amazing I feel like it's slow pace and relaxing melody portrays and conveys Windy Tales incredible well. The ED used is okay, it's more upbeat and cheerful inspiring a lot of fun, but that's not bad, since the show is very very fun.

I enjoyed all the little stories told in each episode, making Windy Tales for the most part, very episodic and slow. There is very little drama, very little to get upset about and a lot to enjoy. I also kept finding myself really enjoying how the characters were drawn. The accentuated and exaggerated art style is truly remarkable and I'd like to watch more anime that do things so boldly and different.

In recent years, people have made a habit of complaining about how a "moe" aesthetic has taken over anime—not Moe Dalitz or one of the many characters named Moe from old American noir films or restaurants emblazoned with Eat at Moe's, but that kind of vaguely defined notion of generic trash anime with cutesy female characters to dote on, and the main attraction seems to not be story, animation, or artistic qualities, but arguing over who is the best waifu or has the best feet of the season or something. Okay, I actually don't know what moe is. It's just something for elitist whiners to ... complain about. Probably...

Anyway, it's likely best embodied in the usual output of the kind of anime labeled as "cute girls doing cute things," and those usually belong to the slice of life genre, where we see our cute moeblobs washing the dishes, eating cupcakes, or playing instruments, or some other inane crap that is boring to watch. "Wow, oh boy, I hate washing the dishes, but I LOVE watching young girls wash the dishes UwU!" or "I hate going outside, but I like to watch young girls go outside! Wow, sugoi!" or "I wish I had a loving family member in the country who would let me loiter around and suck popsicles and spitoon watermelon seeds during the summer and that I didn't think life was meaningless!" is the basic mentality, I guess.

It's gotten to the point where I have dismissed slice of life as a term, other than to describe garbage anime series where girls eat smores at summer camp. For one, it sounds stupid. Are you eating it like it's a pizza? Why is it a slice? Why not slime of life? Iyashikei is a closely related term that means the equivalent of "healing," so for people who just watch anime instead of going to the doctor when they have a booboo (not a bad idea in many cases). This series, as well as other popular shows like Mushishi, are referred to as both iyashikei AND slice of life, but most series with these labels are gutter sludge.

I've taken to using the idiom and literary term mono no aware to refer to anime of this nature—so long as it's good, has actual themes, strives towards beauty or the sublime, appropriate attention to detail, a non-sterile/generic appearance, and a sense of space or atmosphere; all of which is the opposite of the stereotypical moeblob slice of life. It sounds more pretentious, like when people use random French phrases to present themselves as cultured: Le cœur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît pas. See how smart I look now? Mono no aware's translation as "a sensitivity to ephemera" applies pretty well to Windy Tales, and there is a heavy emphasis on impermanence, with an exploration of the seasonal cycle and quoted poetry that touches directly on the subject.

However, I will say that Windy Tales is obviously in the mono no aware camp. There's a certain spiritual vibe that can be extracted from the dense atmosphere of the titles I would loosely lump into this camp—in terms of visual art from other mediums, I would say it's most easy to find this specific feeling from film auteurs like Yasujiro Ozu or Andrei Tarkovsky. Trust me, this is not a podiatrist-pandering show like Akebi with constant feet shots and filthy clip and sniff scenes, nor is it filled with embarrassing dad rock references about "Jeff Becku" and pretending to play instruments (cute girls pretending to do cute things) like in K-On.

I've chosen Windy Tales to be the guinea pig for the preceding ramble because I believe that of all anime series, this one best embodies what I've described above. For one, it has a very unique look. Everything has an imperfect hand-drawn style—somewhat charmingly crude to the point one might think this was a Masaaki Yuasa project. Gone are the ugly CGI backdrops and never-ending panning shots over tedious scenes—we really do judge books by their cover, and no matter how well-written a visually generic, copy and paste show is, the disposable artificiality dampens the emotional impact. The characters look completely unlike anime, and they are ideal for interesting character animation, even if their feet look like toothpicks (definitely not the best feet winner of 2004). The effects animation focuses on wind, often depicted as wisps, lines, or swirls, or the manipulation of objects by the wind. It's not uncommon for environmental shots to receive a lot of attention, and there is a deliberate inclination on the part of the staff to build atmosphere. The series does not have a strict thematic focus, but there are different themes presented within various episodes, and this maintains the typical free-form, not overly drama or plot-focused, and relaxing style of most slice of life, but it is far more carefully directed and written per episode.

I'm definitely no stranger to anime series that are as formulaic as the typical school series, but add in some fantastical or magical element to spice up a humdrum script—often this fantasy element seems almost pointless or just a trite hook to peddle the same pablum. The wind manipulation here functions as an authentic magical realist device. There appears to be a more direct purpose for wind manipulation, based on the tradition of the village in the first two episodes, but other than the great and fantastical visual of cats lackadaisically floating through the sky, the primary purpose of the wind manipulation in terms of storytelling has to do with the user's connection to his or her own emotions in particular and to nature more generally. The wind is perfectly incorporated into the story throughout, often in many novel, subtle and metaphorical ways, as well as adding a spiritual, mystical, or even poetic sense that is further accentuated by the ambient score and striking visuals. It also makes for very exciting and expressionistic animation, and it's always refreshing to see effects animation that has nothing to do with fight scenes or explosions.

This is a heavily episodic series, though the first two episodes count as a fairly distinct arc (with the last episode circling back), but luckily it does have some overarching character development and thematics that prevent it from feeling purely episodic, and this format works much better for the equivalent of bittersweet short stories than it ever could for the usual episodic formula, which tends to be monster of the week.

Certain episodes are better than others. Episode 3, with the main character's attempt to capture the wind through photography is a little dry and drawn-out, and episode 4 feels a little bit too much like a kid's movie with the adorable flying squirrel. These are still good episodes, and I wouldn't say any of them were at all bad. The final episode is somewhat rushed and incorporates a little too much, lacking the tight focus of preceding episodes; the impact was muted and the cross-over of past with present was clumsy, and other aspects of the episode were vague or not fully explored.

One of the strongest episodes, bringing to mind new wave films, would probably be the fever dream that is episode 5—there are plenty of themes here concerning ambivalence about adulthood and conformity, dreams, and nostalgia. Very good character interaction and naturalistic dialogue here, and I was glad Makino returned for the conclusion. The kick-the-can episode is also vividly depicted with its nocturnal atmosphere.

Often not enough attention is paid to OP/ED combos, and I think, to end, it would be good to talk about the final thing we see, the ED. While the OP is a more laid-back pop song that sets the tone for the show well, featuring plenty of wonderful animation, the karaoke pop of the closing (however, this does get incorporated nicely into a later episode), set to mediocre photos and little animation cutouts is probably not the best choice. Using still photography kind of makes sense given that the characters are part of a digital photography club, but they're not very appealing photos, and a more serene and slower pace with ambience—or even ambient pop—would be a better way to close the show. I'm imagining something like environmental shots and contemplative characters being gently nuzzled by the wind.

"Fujin Monogatari" stands as an epitome of artistic brilliance within the realm of anime, captivating audiences through its unparalleled animation style and gripping storyline. Effortlessly transcending the boundaries of conventional narratives, this masterpiece defies description, leaving one in awe of its multifaceted allure.
At the core of "Fuujin Monogatari" lies an animation style that can only be characterized as a visual symphony. Each frame is meticulously crafted, elevating the art form to new heights. The vibrant palette and dynamic character designs seamlessly merge with fluid movements, creating an immersive experience that transcends the boundaries of traditional animation. The visual storytelling in "Fuujin Monogatari" becomes a language ... of its own, conveying emotions and nuances beyond the capacity of mere words.

Equally remarkable is the narrative tapestry woven within the series. A tale of profound depth and intricacy, "Fuujin Monogatari" invites viewers into a realm where the conventional boundaries of storytelling are shattered. The characters, each with a unique depth, evolve through a narrative that is as unpredictable as it is captivating. Themes of resilience, self-discovery, and the human condition are explored with a finesse that resonates on a universal scale.
The allure of "Fuujin Monogatari" lies not only in its technical prowess but in its ability to evoke a visceral response from its audience. The indescribable joy and fascination experienced while immersed in this anime underscore its exceptional nature. It becomes a testament to the transformative power of animation, transcending the limitations of language to connect with a global audience on a profound level.

In conclusion,"Fuujin Monogatari" emerges as a beacon of excellence in the anime landscape. Its unique animation style and compelling narrative redefine the boundaries of the medium, offering an experience that transcends the limitations of verbal expression.

One of the examples given in the opening of the 2nd Plateau of ATP is the nature of a multiplicity, done by describing the nature of speed. Speed is topological in nature, it changes only be degree, by quantity, never by quality, being indivisible. All these multiplicities described are this way, changing only in degree, differences in kind only emerging from that. What is changing in degree in all of these is motion, some level of motion. This is the nature of wind as well, with "wind" not being so much an entity encapsulated like the word claims to, but instead being a motion across ... the atmosphere caused by a variety of factors. Such is the nature of wind in this show, an extremely powerful contemplation on this very idea and its magical and practical applications. In the twelfth episode, Nao presents the first half through her own mind, showing us artistically distorted images of the sakura season. Taiki-sensei said earlier that the sakura season reflects the color of one's heart, a telling reference to the explored ideas when they went to the Wind Village, where they learned to cultivate the wind "inside their hearts". Nao shows us in plain terms then, her own heart, letting the wind flow through her and directing those flows, showing us the way of topological, multiplicitous magic. This lesson is further shown in the way they must almost die in order to realize the wind, the emptiness of falling, of motion of a motorcycle or accidental fall, Nao opens her heart to these flows and controls them as they pass through her. By all of this, Fuujin Monogatari shows us a radically monist path, the way to navigate metaphysical praxis in a world of flows and degrees, showing us the way to become the flying cats - true daoist masters.

Windy Tales is one of those offbeat, pensive, largely un-marketable shows that filled out timeslots and release schedules for anime distributors in the 2000s, when the Western anime boom encouraged them to localize anything they could get the rights to. It's about as far as one can be from the battle shounens, shoujo rom-coms, and loopy gag shows that dominated that decade. A largely episodic story about a group of schoolgirls who discover a secret ability to manipulate wind, this unexpected superpower is introduced into an otherwise un-fantastic world, albeit one with healthy amounts of whimsy. As the characters enter their last years of school, ... this "wind in the heart" serves as a symbol for untapped potential and childhood innocence (which most users lose at a certain age, but some rare adults manage to retain). There are no wind-based fights if that's what you're looking for, and this ability often takes a back seat to more low-stakes stories about the characters who fill out the show's neighborhood. As a coming-of-age show about the cusp of adulthood, Windy Tales is sometimes languid to a fault, and most inner conflicts are merely hinted at or left unresolved, true to the show's ethos of melancholy magical realism. No one in the show has any major problems other than the usual doubts and misgivings of a person wondering what their life is going to be like. This leisurely, muted tone is contrasted against a nearly-abstract, unique art style of sketched-out, disproportionate characters, and backgrounds--courtesy of Shichiro Kobayashi--that seem inspired by Expressionist paintings (the show's memorable depiction of the sun in particular strongly recalls Edvard Munch). There is a sense of unreality and timelessness to Windy Tales' world--compounded by Kenji Kawai's soundtrack--which fits the seemingly-endless summers of adolescence and the equally-endless days of school. It's not the kind of show you should binge, but one that should be taken slowly and casually, the kind of thing that could hypnotize you if you're ready to get on its wavelength. If you've ever wanted Dennou Coil's sense of urban mystery with Tekkonkinkreet's abstract-fantastical sensibilities, Windy Tales is your show.

when the show opens with Nao's obsessive photographing of the clouds, and she explains that she's not really photographing the clouds, but the wind, the first thing it made me think of was Monet, not really painting the haystacks, but the light. light is the medium that activates visual representation for the human eye. what we're seeing is not the thing itself, nor interlocked fields of solid colors, but a frenetic play of light. what is the wind here?

it's some kind of interstitial, permeating and supportive element to daily life. Iyashi-kei always has a kind of animistic, spiritual element to it (hence i've always thought ... to myself that Blame! is in part like Iyashi-kei without any divine harmony, no benevolent gods or spirits, only the chaotic god of the out of control, autoimmune-diseased netsphere and megastructure itself, conjuring new sentient forms and new material out of thin air).

the wind rises when the heart is moved. daily life is kind of a vehicle toward finding these moments. it's not riding the motorcycle, it's not becoming an idol, it's not the first kiss. these are all just the clouds, the haystacks. occasions to feel the wind. it's because of the wind that we are even motivated to pursue these mundane objects and events. but what is it about a first kiss that stirs up the wind? in the episode about the cherry blossoms it's acknowledged that a poem about missing the cherry blossoms can be even more profound and beautiful than one about seeing them. amid these sorts of missed opportunities and connections, does the wind move, or not?

i don't think the series shows a moment of this kind, but i am inclined to think yes. or rather, it shows such moments, but never with the wind moving, even while it seems to acknowledge that it should. it doesn't put two and two together here. however, i can also certainly imagine a first kiss so terrible, so unsatisfactory or unwanted that nothing moves at all. perhaps there are both pleasing and unpleasing failures and misrecognitions of these kinds.

perhaps really it would NOT be the failure to get at the desired thing that leads to the wind's stillness, but actually getting the thing most deeply desired, bringing the end of desire itself, the lack of the constitutive lack of subjectivity. the final gust of wind. with no wind left, there's no reason to go on searching for moments and situations that make the wind fly.

like in Cardcaptor Sakura when Sakura has the nightmarish vision of a world where the characters don't have a desire for each other anymore during her final trial, and it revitalizes her to keep fighting (appropriately, the series ended for 20 years at the moment she finally confessed her own feelings). i wish Fuujin Monogatari explored this a bit more, but i also can't complain much about the episodes that we got. well.. maybe i would've replaced the one with the stupid squirrel (plz forgive me...).

i would have to admit that this is not the kind of premise i go for too much these days, but it was nice to watch and offers some things to think about, if one chooses. i actually really liked the episode where Nao keeps passing these auditions to become an idol and she's just like "why me? this is terrible. why did they have to decide that i'm special?" which i thought was quite truthful. and all of her classmates start thinking there really is something special about her, while she's exactly the same. i was dreading the outcome of her auditions. maybe the apparent disaster represented by Nao, who won't even submit her photos to contests, winning the opportunity to become an idol, is echoed by the impossibility of Yukio and Taiki ending up together, or Makino-sensei and the married school nurse he clings to.