Often, perhaps too often, a cause for criticism is the level of realism depicted in the story. As narratives take place in worlds that are presumed to be quite like our own, in terms of the color of human nature (which would determine how characters interact) and the general laws of physics (e.g. the constant passage of time, gravity, etc.), they are reflections of our own world. When creating a narrative, the writer writes from experience living in his or her world, because it is natural and because the more realistic the story is, the more it can resonate with audiences.
Now obviously many narratives take place in universes in which the nature of energy is different. Look no further than the power systems of shounen. And being visual mediums, anime and manga make use of the license of exaggerating certain things for emphasis, humor, etc. As such, much of the surface material that isn’t realistic, like the character designs, shouldn’t be criticized. It is part of what makes the medium unique, for it serves to represent ideas that can’t necessarily be expressed in words alone or even in live action. Stylistic aspects are just that, stylistic, and whether you like it or not is personal preference.
But beyond that, things such as pacing, degree of acting, and whatnot serve to make the anime or manga realistic on a deeper level. Again, it all comes down to how the characters behave; do they resemble our own human psyche well enough, are they acting as expected given their personalities and circumstances, etc. Moreover, those narratives recognized as more realistic and thus lauded for it tend to treat mature themes and display the darker sides of humanity.
This is why plot armor is so heavily criticized, especially in long-running shounen, for it is unrealistic for so many good characters to survive time and time again when in real life battles aren’t so one-sided. This is why getting back up again and again solely due to the power of friendship and bonds may be endearing, but ultimately doesn’t look too good after so many repetitions. Yes, Fairy Tail, I’m talking to you.
Taking all of this into consideration, it is ironic then that so many narratives have happy endings. This almost mandatory facet of the constructed story appeals directly to its artificial nature, that being published publicly for human audiences who will give it profit, it must end satisfactorily. After all, we all grow attached to certain characters and don’t want to see them lose or die. We all want the conflict to resolve in favor of the light. We all want to finish the book or anime or movie or what have you with gladness in our hearts.
In the real world, life is not always like that. The world we live in is indifferent to human desire. We are merely highly intelligent animals who delude ourselves with notions such as “humanity” and “morality” when in the end our actions serve to satisfy our own selfish needs. If you live out your life in the service of others, you do it because you enjoy it. We could take religious views into account and propose that humans are indeed special, but for the purposes of this review I’ll leave that out. I’ll just say that if we humans are special, then it’s not something we can know for ourselves, for that would be a completely subjective opinion.
And now, on to the actual review. Forgive my long-winded introduction.
~THE ART~
Art is personal preference. I personally don’t like the art of, for example, Akame ga Kill that much. But others out there do. The style that the manga artist uses to depict his or her story is just that, a style. If you don’t like the art of a particular manga, don’t mention it in a review. (Heck, all reviews themselves are subjective.)
Now quality, on the other hand, is somewhat arguable. I haven’t read that many manga, but I can say without a doubt that One Punch Man is manga art at its finest. And so too is Oyasumi Punpun. The level of detail is insane, it looks like black-and-white photographs, especially the drawings of buildings. People look like real people. I honestly don’t think that Asano Inio, the mangaka, missed anything in terms of detail, his art is that realistic. Just as for some anime the animation quality is so up there that it alone can make it worth watching (e.g. anything ufotable or Makoto Shinkai), the art here is so amazing that the story is not necessarily relevant. What’s even more amazing is that the art is but a means of conveying the story, which is far more stunning.
~THE QUESTION~
The mangaka, employs much dialogue and interior monologue. He often uses supporting characters, each with his or her own problems and all too human qualities, to voice different aspects of that ultimate question that we’ve all asked ourselves at one point or another: the meaning of life. Is life worth living; is it worthwhile going through the doldrums and tribulations of human life. Our being but more advanced animals, trying to elevate our sense of living on this planet is futile. What makes the human more deserving of such an exalted privilege than the dog or flower? We just happen to be more intelligent, more emotively capable, and thus have the time and resources to ponder this question. But let me tell you, this question is rhetorical at its core. Perhaps the dogs and flowers don’t question their existence, and they probably don’t, given the lesser intelligence and lack thereof, respectively. But that shouldn’t make them any less precious as forms of life than we arrogant, prideful humans.
Having been raised in the church and still retaining some of the theological beliefs, I do still believe that a God exists. I know that many attribute a divine existence to mankind’s attempt to justify themselves, to place a higher being that would be the arbitrator and savior and all-knowing and so on. Several characters, in addition to a somewhat fanatic cult, in Oyasumi Punpun believe in and/or question this existence. While not seeming completely necessary to the plot at first, the cult of “good vibrations” does present many provoking metaphysical ideas, such as the notion that the universe is a an infinite music box. And often, as I mentioned before, side characters have interior stories that may detract from the main character’s, this is not anything to look down upon. Just because a narrative is a narrative with a main character doesn’t mean that the entire story has to be about that character. Asano, or at least in my opinion, is exploring that message of human triviality and reality, and to do so he utilizes the thoughts and actions of multiple personae.
~REALISM~
Oyasumi Punpun excels in showing to the reader, without any reluctance whatsoever, mankind’s true nature that is typically shadowed and only hinted at in most narratives. I thought the likes of Psycho-Pass and Monster were realistic, but then I encountered the bird called Onodera Punpun, and all such notions were blown away. In these 147 chapters we see his character mature and struggle to find his place in a cruel world amidst the turmoil of depression. We see him as an 11-year-old in chapter one and as an adult by the end. We see him masturbate and we see him have sex. We see him question the existence of a God. We see his thoughts, black and cold and dark, amidst a rigorous paneling structure that surpasses any manga I’ve read or seen so far.
We all experience the lusts and desires of puberty. Punpun is no different. I’ll be very frank here and admit that I, too, have and still do feel the same thoughts as he does, strongly yearning for sexual intercourse. You can’t say anything against that, because we all feel the same way, some more than others.
What’s interesting about Punpun’s thoughts is that they are spoken from an objective bystander’s perspective, like the “narrator” or author himself. In addition, Punpun rarely speaks, that is, his words are rarely expressed via the speech bubble coming directly from him. Usually other characters, by responding to what he says, imply the words that aren’t explicitly written. I feel like this technique, in stark contrast to the expected first person perspective, is telling of human self-centeredness: we all see the world around us and think with only our own minds. That’s obvious, but it inherently lends itself to selfishness. In other words, Punpun is not special, even though he is the main character. We are not special, even though we see the world through our own eyes and our own eyes only.
Speaking of eyes, you know how anime is often scolded for portraying humans with otherworldly proportions? We’ve all seen the enormous eyes, the bowling ball breasts, the hair that would astound any barber, etc. Even more than this, though, is the prevalence of attractive characters. Perhaps it’s the perfection of form, or the facial symmetry. Whatever it is that makes so many anime and manga characters appealing, it’s not reflective of real life.
But Oyasumi Punpun reads like a live-action film. By the time I was fully immersed and plowing through the chapters into the wee hours of the night, the sheer realism and almost photographic nature of the characters made me feel as if I were looking at real people. (Obviously besides the Punpun family, who are all birds, which was equally expressive as it mirrored their perceptions of themselves and their psychological states.) Oversized boobs and oversized hair are nonexistent. The males and females are not super attractive. I wasn’t reading a manga after all. I was in fact looking at a parallel universe of our own reality.
Another facet of realism is an unhesitant willingness to show misfortune. Game of Thrones, an excellent live-action TV series that is praised for its medieval realism, has many (perhaps too many) character deaths. And lots of violence, sex, all that good stuff. Oyasumi Punpun is also unafraid to have its characters go through hell. Punpun especially, my God, his existential crisis that takes up basically the entire manga -- I have felt some of the same thoughts, but he -- I’m being serious here, I feel really sorry for Punpun. The poor bird. Trying to fly against a bitter wind, and not succeeding much.
In almost every review out there for any narrative is character development. I believe that it is not necessary for a narrative to do this. For it to be necessary, that would also illustrate the narrative’s artificial nature, and I firmly believe that narratives can be viewed as excerpts from another world. And in our world, does every single person really change significantly throughout his or her life? And do we all do so in, say, a span of several years? For example, let’s look at Shingeki no Kyojin (Attack on Titan). There is much hate on Eren Jaeger for not changing that much after two seasons and for being the same annoying brat who only wants to kill Titans, and even more Titans. But seriously people, it’s not all that common for people to change. Eren doesn’t change or “develop” that much, but neither does Mikasa, or Armin, or practically anyone in the Attack on Titan universe we’ve seen so far.
Oyasumi Punpun comments on this. People don’t change that much. I’ll tell you right now that such lauded “character growth” isn’t really a thing in this manga. Humans don’t really improve over time. Humans aren’t as nice and honorable as is so manifest in modern thinking. As I mentioned earlier, we’re just trying to address our insecurities and unwillingness to accept the bleak truth of humanity: that we’re nothing special.
I’m not saying that we’re insignificant, or that life has no meaning. I’m just trying to say that the world doesn’t care what you think, and that the world is a harsh place.
But Oyasumi Punpun isn’t all dark and negative. Life goes on, and there is a reason why we continue to live. Oyasumi Punpun opened my eyes to my own insecurities and faults, very human faults. It showed me a glimpse of the real world. This manga can’t even be called escapism. It’s that realistic.
Oyasumi Punpun. Absolutely phenomenal manga. I would put this in my Top 5 Narratives of All Time, and that’s including works of other mediums like film and novel and anime. Without a doubt. Amazing. I give this the highest kudos I can possibly give.
