What's in a Title?

In a fast-paced world that bombards us with information, we need an incentive to spend time reading your content. It needs to be informative, engaging and helpful in some way.

Have you sometimes just thrown in a straightforward title for a blog post or article? I think we’ve all been guilty of this at some point. It’s hard to come up with a title that’s clever and interesting. However, It's essential to avoid straight-forward descriptive titles. For example, you might have ‘Money Management,’ ‘Candles,’ or ‘Stuff.’

Titles that give a basic description of a blog or article don’t cut it. To generate interest, you need to offer something in the title.

You can ask a question (as I’ve done) about a subject people have little knowledge of, or introduce a problem. People will want to read your article because it provides a more detailed answer to that question.

Alternatively, you could try a list, or have a ‘How to’ title that lets readers know your article is a guide to an activity, or advice for overcoming an issue.

Here are a few examples:

• ‘Money Management’ could be ‘Need Help with Finances?’

• ‘Candles’ could turn into ‘Ten Best Scented Candles for the Holiday Season’

• You could transform ‘Stuff’ into ‘How to Rid Yourself of Unwanted Stuff’

A title is an easy thing to take for granted. However, it’s probably the most important aspect of anything content you create.

Your title needs to set the tone for your content. It needs to give the reader a compelling reason to take a break from browsing through Facebook in another tab. Think about how your title can fulfil a need, a desire, a curiosity or all three.

Remembering Louisa Lawson

If you ask most people if they know the name Louisa Lawson, they’ll say no. Mother of bush poet, Henry Lawson, Louisa (1848 – 1920) played a vital part in women gaining the right to in NSW. Louisa Lawson’s struggle to find a voice can give us insight into our own times.

From the Museum of Australian Democracy website

Louisa possessed sharp wits and a gift with words, but poverty and family expectations held her back. She eventually rose to become an influential figure in Australian literature and politics. With ingenuity and business savvy, she created a platform for herself and other, traditionally unheard, voices. 

As a teenager, Louisa’s mother denied her the chance to become a student-teach at Mudgee National School. The farm and her eleven siblings took priority in a family struggling with poverty. Louisa never forgot this missed opportunity, and it spurred her on to create success in adulthood.

In 1866, Louisa married Norwegian sailor Niels Hertzberg Larsen at 18-years-old. Niels spent much of his time away from home mining during the Gold Rush and working for his father-in-law. In, 1883, Louisa moved to Sydney with her and Niels’ four children, Henry, Charles, Peter and Gertrude. She worked as a seamstress and boarding house manager to support her family. In 1887, Louisa used the money she’d saved to buy a journal called The Republican.

The Republican was Louisa’s gateway to realising her ambitions. While the publication only ran for a year, The Republican let Louisa share her poetry for the first. The Reformers created a public storm with its daring challenge to corrupt authority.  

“We lead the way, we lead the way …

We turn the sod, we stir the pool, 

We point the way to those who rule. 

We cheek the rogue, we chide the fool, 

We point the way to those who rule.

Louisa started a new journal called The Dawn in 1888. This journal, “led the way” for women to have one of few public voices at a time when they couldn’t vote. In its 17-year run, The Dawn became a popular monthly journal both in Australia and overseas.

The State Library of New South Wales

In The Dawn’s first article, Louisa Lawson spoke about the need for women to have representation in the political sphere:

“Men legislate on divorce, on hours of labor, and many another question intimately affecting women, but neither ask nor know the wishes of those whose lives and happiness are most concerned.”

Louisa’s words reflect someone who’d known hopelessness because of circumstances beyond their control. So, she created the first journal ran and produced entirely by women. The Dawn covered subjects considered taboo at the time, like divorce, domestic abuse, and legal rights.

Shortly after the launch of The Dawn, Louisa founded The Dawn Club. Louisa created it as a space for women to gather and discuss issues of the time. Louisa’s group soon became the centre for the New South Wales Women’s Suffrage League.

Thankfully, we no longer live in such restrictive times. Women can vote. Women can be politicians. Although, a lack of representation in parliament probably still sounds familiar to most modern-day Australians. 

You can hear echoes of Louisa ’s concerns in recent controversies over a lack of women in parliament. The resulting debate prompted the idea of quotas to be put forward. This was met with protests that women should be hired based on “merit.”

Former Chief of Staff for John Howard, Grahame Morris scoffed at the idea of quotas. He referred to the women in the opposition party, who do have quotas, as “dregs.”

He did apologise for his comments, though, admitting that they might discourage women from entering politics. Grahame Morris’ comments still sting when you consider the International Parliamentary Union’s findings. Australia is ranked 54^th in the world for representation of women in parliament. 

By Ron Tandberg

If Australia is only 54^th in the world when representing women, and appointments are based on merit, then that implies Australian women just aren’t suited to politics.

People talk about merit like it’s a hard-and-fast metric system for measuring someone’s worth. This attitude seems odd when you consider there’s a proven connection between height and leadership positions. 

Tall men are more likely to gain managerial positions than shorter ones, because of an association with height to dominance and power. Science Direct says, “the current study found a positive relationship between male leaders’ height and their followers’ perceptions of charisma, while no such relationship was found for female leaders.”

In the famous Harvard study, “Heidi vs. Howard,” students were handed the same CV, but with different names. The students had a much harsher opinion of “Heidi” Roizen’s CV than “Howard” Roizen’s. According to students, Heidi was too aggressive to hire.

One thing we can take from Louisa’s story is that change takes time and work. In 1888, Louisa launched the first journal for and by women, speaking out about issues of the time. In 1902, 14 years after the launch of The Dawn, the bill allowing women to vote passed in NSW.

At the “dawn” of the twentieth century, Louisa achieved her goal of giving herself and other women a voice in politics. The Women’s Suffrage League introduced Louisa to members of parliament as, “The Mother of Suffrage in New South Wales.”

Her journey from a poverty-stricken young woman, to an icon of a movement, was long and hard. And overcoming old ideas about who does and doesn't belong in power will take many generations of work. 

Louisa Lawson’s son, Henry, carried on his mother’s legacy of expressing truths through the written word. Henry’s poems and short stories were known for their boldly realistic insights into the everyday struggles of Australians. The Drovers Wife was a short story about a woman’s struggles to care for her four children while isolated in the outback. 

Henry Lawson has earned a place in history for his unique take on Australian life in his writing. Louisa’s name isn’t as well recognised. But, from her writing and activism, it seems fair to say that Louisa has earned enough “merit” to be remembered as well as her son. 

Land of the Lustrous Review/Analysis: Minerals and Buddhism (Mild Spoilers)

This is a preview of my review/analysis of the 12 episode anime series, Land of the Lustrous. You can find the full version on my Patreon account. At the moment, it is Patron exclusive content, along with other series I'm reviewing once I've finished liveblogging them. The full liveblog is on my Tumblr. 

Late last year, an animated adaptation of a little-known manga series came out, and it made a big impression. The series utilises CG animation in a unique fashion and has a character-driven story that's striking in its depth and detail. Produced by the up-and-coming animation company, Studio Orange, Land of the Lustrous builds a strange and fascinating world. The narrative built around it, stands-out for its creative art direction and sweeping storytelling.

Land of the Lustrous takes place in a world where humans no longer exist, and instead, beings based on a different gem or mineral live in a tight-knit community. They are hunted by beings called Lunarians and are split into fighters and administrators. They Lustrous' role in life is often determined by their level of hardness.  

The youngest Lustrous, Phosphophyllite, or Phos has a hardness of only three and a half, making her the weakest and therefore limiting their options. However, after meeting an outcast Lustrous named Cinnabar, they become determined to help them, and as a result, starts a long, difficult journey of change. 

Based on a manga series Haruko Ichikawa, this twelve episode anime paces itself out far better than most adaptations of long-running manga. Even though the anime creates an expansive world with many mysteries to uncover, it never feels rushed or awkward. 

Ichikawa discussed how to adapt the story within a short time frame with director, Takahiko Kyogoku. Haruko took part in the story development and ensured that the series struck explored some key concepts while still leaving hints about the central mysteries. (1)

This more thoughtful approach to adapting a work from another medium is rare and makes the series a joy to watch. The mangaka and anime crew put far more care into every aspect of this adaptation than most manga to anime adaptations. 

The visuals complement, even enhance the storytelling on a thematic and emotional level. The original manga uses a simple art style that contrasts black and white to create a sense of ambiguity. Anime isn't a medium where ambiguity fits as well. So Takahiko Kyogoku and the animators decided to use a lush colour palette to convey a certain feel to the audience. Read the full article here.

Review: Big Fish and Begonia

Based on a Chinese myth, Big Fish and Begonia (2016) is a story of love and the cycles of life and death. 

Directed by Liang Xuan and Zhang Chun, the film is adapted from the Taoist classic text, Zhanagzi. In a magical realm that exists beneath the human world, magical beings in touch with the natural world venture to the human world for a short time as a rite of passage. When sixteen-year-old Chun goes to leaves in the form of red dolphin, her family warns her to stay away from humans. However, she becomes fascinated by a young boy. After he saves her life from a fishing net, the course of both their lives is changed forever. 

Big Fish and Begonia initially immerses the audience in its fantastical world with beautiful animation and captivating set-up. It creates a mystical world through stunning visuals and a kaleidoscope of lush colours. However, it fails to hold that sense of immersion in its second act, due to rushed pacing and too much "telling" instead of "showing."

While its concept and animation are spellbinding, Big Fish and Begonia fails to stick the landing ...
Its themes of the flow of life, and consequences for disregarding it, had the potential to create sweeping epic growth and love. The film introduces characters, relationships and ideas that are never adequately explored. It spends too much time on a relationship that also feels rather hollow. The rushed pacing means that plot lines that are soon brushed aside and never brought up again, making the plot somewhat confusing.
While it's concept and animation are spellbinding, Big Fish and Begonia fails to stick the landing, leaving the audience feeling rather unsatisfied by the time the end credits roll. It's unfortunate that such a beautiful work of cinema never lives up to its full potential because of a rushed story that lacks emotional depth. A lovely story in its visuals and basic concept, but unsatisfying in its execution.

Review: This Corner of the World (2016)

In This Corner of the World is like few films I've ever seen before, seamlessly balancing a raw anti-war message with a charming slice-of-life backdrop.  

Directed by newcomer Sunao Katabuchi and adapted from an award-winning manga by Fumiyo Kuno, the story primarily takes place during World War II-era Japan. It follows the artistic and gentle daydreamer, Suzu's life in Kure, a port town near Hiroshima, with the family she married into. 

Gorgeously animated, the film uses watercolours to recreate the Japanese countryside. The animation's detailed depiction of everyday life is interwoven with whimsical touches by the creative Suzu. The first scene involves the clearly exaggerated and fun tale of when a young Suzu was lost in Hiroshima, before the war. Her mind and drawings, feature monsters, sea rabbits and crocodiles. The viewers see the world from Suzu's perspective, as the mundane blends with her fantastical imagination. 

Even as the film delves deeper into the horrific nature of war, the movie still injects her artistic interpretations into the world, no matter how bleak it becomes. This isn't done to undermine the seriousness of war. Instead, Suzu uses her imagination as a coping mechanism to understand and process the traumatic events that affect her and her family. The film's depth and power comes from Suzu's ability to find joy and wonder in the small things despite the trauma she experiences. 

While it does have a romantic plotline that's fairly uninteresting, at its core, In This Corner of the World is about family, and how it changes and grows in unexpected ways. Much of the film's charm and humour comes from Suzu's interactions with her new family, especially her prickly, yet generous-hearted sister in law. 

One of the film's most impressive aspects is its dedication put into depicting WWII Japan. Director Sunao Katabuchi and the animators went to great length to accurately depict a pre-atomic bomb Hiroshima. They collected rare photographs of pre-wartime Japan and interviewed the locals who grew up Hiroshima before the bombing. The filmmaker's dedication to making a historically accurate war film, that focuses on the civilian population is strongly felt throughout the movie. 

Gently paced, heart wrenching and hopeful, In This Corner of the World is a beautiful and powerful film. Through the perspective of the main heroine we see the devastation of war, and the everyday joys of life, making the film a deeply important and unforgettable experience. 

Character Arcs: Act 3

Act 3: Confronting the Lie and Conclusions.The way the heroes confront, and overcome their Lie, is by facing their foils, and in this case it’s their brothers. 

Loki holds onto the Lie of Kingship and Ramses holds onto the Lie that the system he inherited from his father must continue. Loki believes he can earn his adoptive family’s love by killing the Frost Giants, who are his people by birth. 

He wants to take the right of kingship and prove he's worthy of his adoptive family. And he does this by taking on the might means right Lie his brother held in the beginning. But by the time Thor regains his powers and confronts his brother, Thor isn’t like that anymore! He earned back his power by saying, “hey I don’t want to be that way anymore.”

Ramses’ father pressures him to live up to his family’s legacy as the unwavering “morning and evening star.” If Ramses failed to live up to these incredibly lofty standards, he would be the “weak link” that would bring down the whole dynasty. 

Ramses defines himself by his status as Pharaoh and lives with his father’s admonition not to be the “weak link” in back of his mind. It becomes his driving force when Moses pleads for him to let his people go. Moses let go of the Lie of his own entitlement once his sense of identity was shattered but Ramses steadfastly holds onto it. And that’s his undoing. 

Thor and Moses’ brothers believe in the Lie, while they grow away from it. Having a foil who goes in the opposite direction to the hero is a great way to create compelling character drama. It also highlights how far your hero has come, while giving them not necessarily a villain, but an antagonist who offers an opposing view. 

The very end of a positive change arc has the main character not just rejecting the lie but overcoming it. Thor rejects his initial beliefs of might makes right by reaching out to his brother, both literally and figuratively in an attempt to help him. But Loki, unable to overcome his Lie, rejects his brothers help. 

Ramses loses his only son as a result of not letting Moses’ people go. But even as Ramses relents, he plans revenge. The final hurdle Moses and his people must face is Ramses and his men threatening their lives. This one last show of power for Ramses while he is grieving. Moses manages to his people safely to a new land with the help of God. And Ramses is alone and broken, unable to overcome the Lie. 

The positive change character arcs show the main character coming to a better place emotionally and often physically. And to highlight this, their foil often ends in the place the hero could have potentially gone if they hadn’t changed. 

Character Arcs: Act 2

Act 2: Leaving the Lie

 This act centers around the fallout of dealing with the Lie being stripped away. Brandon Sanderson describes it as where the hero starts taking real, proactive action, with often bad results.

Thor: Thor still clings to his Lie when he arrives on Earth and is forced to live as a normal human being. He makes demands when confined to a hospital bed and throws his title as the son of Odin around.

But instead of receiving the usual fawning treatment he would at this declaration, he just gets sedated and treated like he’s unhinged. Thor has to spend the rest of act 2 learning humility and building relationships with the people on Earth.

He becomes invested in Jane research and life. His inability to left Mjolnir shows that he isn’t worthy because of his attachment to the Lie that might makes right. So, he has to earn it back by showing compassion and selflessness. This leads Thor to take on Loki’s Destroyer robot and facing down with his brother in the final confrontation.

The Prince of Egypt:

Meanwhile, Moses is still in his own environment, but he’s forced to view it from a different perspective. When Moses’ pleas for the overseer to stop whipping an old slave don’t work, Moses pushes the overseer off the scaffolding, accidentally killing him.

Moses' action against the Lie of his previously sheltered existence in a dramatic way. This Moses’ first step towards tearing down the system of slavery, which God later points out to him.

Unlike Thor, Moses then goes into self-exile, hating being surrounded by the Lie that defined his life. He then makes a new life for himself among the people of Tziporah, the woman his people took as a slave. After some inevitable awkwardness, Moses finds his place among his new home as a Shepard and eventually falls in love with Tziporah.

Moses has successfully left the Lie behind and constructed a new life. That is until God recruits him to return home and free his people. This leads Moses to confront his brother, who stubbornly refuses to free the slaves.

The conclusion has the heroes facing down the Lie and the antagonists who refuse to let go of theirs.

Character Arcs: Act 1

Compelling, fun and memorable character arcs that will leave a big impression on people is something we search for in media. But creating those kinds of arcs yourself can seem impossible. That’s where looking at how great arcs are constructed can help.
Writer, K.M. Weiland talks about a defining Lie a character tell themselves about their identity that shapes their world-view.
Character development in a positive change arc means that you take the Lie that’s holding them back and dismantle it throughout the story. And in the end, they come to understand a new truth about the world and themselves.
So, I will be going through two examples of a positive change arc and see how they’re structured when looked at through the lens of the three-act structure. For a few prominent examples, we’ll look at the first Thor movie and The Prince of Egypt.
These two movies work so well because they’re both about entitled prince’s whose Lie is that they think the world revolves around them. Everything is fine with them and the system because they’re comfortable living at the top of it.
Act 1: Introduction to the character and their Lie
So, the first act in the three-act structure is all about set-up. We’re introduced to the main character and the world they live in.
Thor:
We open narrated by Odin. After establishing the heritage of Thor and Loki, we move forward in time to see them as adults.
The first time we see Thor, he’s grandstanding in front of a crowd, and later, flipping over a table when he doesn’t get his way.
We’re shown is Lie vividly from the start, and that’s his right of kingship, and that swinging his hammer should fix everything.

The Prince of Egypt: 

After we’ve shown the situation of the slaves and how Moses came to be in the care of his adoptive family, we cut to Moses and Ramses as young men. We first see them in the middle of an intense and reckless chariot race. There’s property damage and Moses nearly rammed his adoptive brother into the side of a wall in the name of fun!

So, what’s Moses’ Lie? His father’s kingdom is his playground and everything exists for him and his family.
This is how you show where your character is at the beginning of your story and construct the basis for their arc. You show their normal environment and how they act in that environment.
The Inciting Incident:
So, now we have the set-up, the story to leap into the inciting incident. This propels the narrative forward, taking the main protagonist from their known world and challenging their Lie in a major way.
Thor:
The first Thor does this by having Thor and his friends travel to Jutonhiem to fight the Frost giants behind Odin’s back. Thor gets busted because of his jealous little brother, and as a result, he loses everything. In a fit of rage, Odin takes away his son’s hammer and title, banishing him to backwater called Earth!
At the end of act 1, Thor lost everything that he’d built his identity on. Act 2 begins with him literally run over a car and tasered. The humbling begins! 

The Prince of Egypt: 
After an encounter with his biological sister and brother, Moses is forced to question his heritage. He then stumbles on the “history etched on every wall” that shows the Pharaoh ordering the deaths of all the children of slaves.
Moses’ Lie that he’s deserving of all he has because of his noble royal family is shattered in that moment.
Like Thor, everything he built his identity on has been stripped away. Act 2 will focus on the fallout from their Lie being taken from them, and how they move forward from there. 

Great Character Writing: Héctor Rivera

“You can help me! I can help you! But most importantly of all, you can help me!”

I never expected it to be endeared to a skeleton man in the way I am to Héctor Rivera, but here we are!  It’s amazing how our expectations of this character are set-up and later subverted. So, he is my topic of discussion for today!

When Miguel and the audience first meet Héctor, he comes off as a selfish, yet lovable trickster, trying to get past security so he can visit the world of the living. We don’t know exactly why he wants to go there, but for a guy who tries lie and con his way out of every situation, we’re lead to assume it’s for selfish purposes.

He’s also fun, goofy and the butt of many jokes. The story uses him for many slapstick gags involving his limbs coming off, and the other people in the Land of the Dad call him Chorizo because they all think he choked on one when he died. 

The turning point where he truly becomes more than a joke is when we see play music. Music, being such a central part of the movie, is what allows Miguel, and by extension, the audience, to see a caring and melancholic side to Héctor. 

He plays a jaunty tune for old Chicharrón, just before he disappears in a “Final Death.” It’s a tender, bittersweet moment with gentle humour (”There are children present). When he goes, Héctor has a drink in his honour. (As an aside, no I don’t know where the drink goes if he has no organs to process it.) On our first viewing, this is the point where Héctor is no longer just some goofy guy who choked on a sausage. 

 On second viewing, the moment Chicharrón fades away, the deeply sad expression on Héctor’s face shows not only sadness for his friends final passing, but for the possibility that it will happen to him too. 

After Héctor and Miguel, again through the power of music, Héctor discovers that Miguel does have family other than Ernesto. The kid lied so he could get his “great, great grandfather” to give him his blessing to go home AND be a musician. Héctor is understandably furious that the kid put himself in danger, and put off placing his photo on the ofrenda, all so he “live out a musical fantasy.” When Héctor tries to forcefully take Miguel back to his family, the kid snaps at Héctor for being selfish, which is quite ironic, given how Miguel is acting. Even though the audience can see that Héctor isn’t just out for himself now, Miguel is too caught up in what he wants to see that. 

When Miguel and the audience finally meet Ernesto, he seems to be everything Héctor is not: successful, popular, strong and macho. He’s the ideal that Miguel wants to live up to! 

You know, I did all my own stunts!

But of course, Ernesto isn’t as great as he first seems. With his ostentatious parties that constantly replay footage from his own movies, it’s obvious that Ernesto is an egotist who cares about his reputation more than anything. Ernesto is a very effective foil for Héctor, who has little but goes out of his way to find Miguel so he can help him get home. And then, the reveal comes in the lead up to the movie’s third act … 

“I just wanted to go back home!”

Ernesto not only took Héctor’s songs, he took his life and family from him. Poor Héctor was a young family man (the director said he was only 21 at the time of his death) who was tired of life on the road and wanted to return to his wife and daughter. Héctor is not at all the shady character he appeared to be in his first scene where tries to trick his way into the land of the living. He’s a victim of an ambitious, callous man, unafraid to do anything to “cease his moment.”

Miguel, and the audiences, perceptions are now completely shattered. Héctor is no longer “Chorizo,” the hapless trickster who chocked on a sausage, and Ernesto is no longer the “good guy,” Miguel thought he was. Even though the movie was dropping strong hints that neither character was what they seemed on the surface, this moment completely flips our earlier expectations of these characters! 

When Miguel tearfully apologizes to Héctor as he realises how selfish he’s been, we learn the truth about Héctor. 

“She’s … forgetting me.”

He wanted to be reunited with his daughter, who’s been forgetting about him. And his daughter is Miguel’s great-grandmother, Coco, who suffers from dementia. Miguel, relieved that his great-great-grandfather is not a murdering asshole, realises that the creative, artistic part of him that always made him feel different, came from Héctor. And here, as we go into the third act conflict of trying to get Héctor’s photo back from Ernesto and send Miguel home, Miguel’s (and our) perception of Héctor has come full circle. He’s gone from the goofy, selfish trickster, Chorizo, to a gentle and artistic family man who just wants to see his daughter again.

Coco asks the narrative question of what kind of person Miguel will choose to be. The movie plays with Miguel’s changing perceptions of these two men, and because he’s the point of view character, we see those changing perceptions through him. In the end, he has to choose if he’s going to be like the self-serving and callous Ernesto or the flawed, yet good-hearted and loving Héctor. Our expectations of Héctor our subverted in a way that gets us to feel a deep and love for this character. 

Great Character Writing: Himemiya Anthy

Who is the Rose Bride?

“I am the Rose Bride. I must do whatever the winner of the duels tells me to do.”

The seemingly passive and submissive princess in this deconstruction of fairy tale tropes is one of the deepest and most complex characters in a series full of them. I know there is a movie and manga version of Revolutionary Girl Utena, but the series is the most in-depth version of the character, so I’m going to focus on that. 

Anthy is a great character that subverts our expectations in powerful and surprising ways. Anthy must serve anyone who “wins her in a series of duels. She’s treated as the property of the duelists who exists solely to please them. The name Himemiya is a combination of the Japanese words hime (princess) and miya (shrine, or imperial gate), so her surname translates to Princess of the Shrine. Something that’s extremely fitting as we learn more about her.

We first see Anthy in her greenhouse, which is shaped suspiciously like a bird cage. 

Unlike the popular Utena, who’s often crowded by admirers, Anthy is a lone figure who’s thought of as that “strange girl” by the students. She works in her garden, isolated. Anthy is only ever seen with other duelists as a piece of property to show off.

Anthy meekly tells the other duelists that she is currently Saionji’s, and he may do what he likes with her. She seems to witheringly accept her role as the Rose Bride. But we get small glimpses of the person behind the serene smile.

“ Cheer up ... Saionji ... sempai”

When Utena wins Anthy in her duel with Saionji, we see a very passive aggressive side to her. Sweetly smiling as she refers to Saionji as an upperclassman, instead of the deeply respectful honorific, “sama.” Saionji looks at Anthy in melodramatic despair at losing his power over her. She is caught in a game that treats her as an object, but people don’t see how Anthy knowingly manipulates them, and takes advantage of their desires. She deliberately cheers on Utena in an uncharacteristically excited manner during her duel with Miki, so he will become distracted lose the match. Miki has convinced himself that Anthy needs him to “free her” so she can be his inspiration, his “shining thing.” All of the duelists have a view of women that they project onto Anthy, whether that be someone who’s subservient, someone who’s devious, an object to inspire, or someone to be protected. But never a complex person with her own desires and problems. 

She is seen in terms of being good and compliant or bad. When asked if Anthy is “venomous,” in an interview, Ikuhara gives this response.

Kunihiko Ikuhara: 

“As for whether or not Anthy’s character is venomous or not ... I don’t know the answer. And while I depict her in ways that make you suspect she is, I plan to never show you whether that’s out of ill will or not.” 

And this quote comes back to the main question of who is the Rose Bride? 

“People find it hard to doubt those they've fallen in love with. They can't even imagine they're being deceived and used.” 

We don’t strictly see Anthy from Utena’s, our point of view character’s, perspective. Utena is almost comically oblivious to the machinations going on her around her, something that becomes clearer as the secrets and plans going on around her unfold. When Utena first meets Akio, she just sees him as a cool older guy, not realising that he is the one controlling Anthy and abusing her. Utena doesn’t understand that Anthy has some very conflicted feelings for her brother, that help tie her down to the role of the Rose Bride. 

The sly smiles, passive-aggressive disdain for Utena’s naivety, and insistence that Anthy “just stop” being the Rose Bride are things Utena doesn’t recognise at first. Realising that Anthy’s situation and Anthy herself are far more complicated than she first thought, is a major part of Utena’s character development.

Something about the “scent of roses” coming from Anthy makes Utena think about the prince that we’re told saved her when her parents died. 

A major theme of the series, that is tied to Anthy, is reality vs. the stories we tell ourselves that stem from our ideas of reality. Utena associates rose’s with the prince who saved her from the loneliness and despair she’d fallen into after losing her parents. Or at least, that’s the story she tells herself, and the Shadow Play Girls tell us at the beginning of the series. But, like the glittering castle in the sky, you have to wonder how real it is? Saionji calls the castle in the sky “a kind of mirage.” 

Utena only remembered part of her encounter with the Prince all those years ago. Utena was driven to keep on living when she saw Anthy, pierced by all those blades and sentenced to be the scapegoat of humanity. The thing that saved Utena from despair wasn’t a Prince on a white, horse, but seeing a girl who was also suffering. She badly wanted the power to help this girl. And all Utena remembered was Dios’s words about never losing her nobility, even when she grows up. 

The Anthy who’s seen either as a helpless princess or an evil witch was just a girl who loved her brother and wanted to protect him. And couldn’t stand to see him overworked by the people of the world so he could be their Rose Prince. When she tells them he can’t have him anymore, she is impaled by their swords for “stealing the light of the world.” Anthy and Dios/Akio are god-like, immortal beings, so nothing can kill them physically. 

Akio: 

“Women who cannot become princesses have no choice but to become witches.”

We find out that Anthy is deeply devoted to those she loves, but all of her kindness and selflessness is buried under tons of bitterness and self-hatred from being the scapegoat of humanity for who knows how long! And Utena slowly begins to reach the vulnerable person underneath the roles of Rose Bride and witch.

“Because I am the Rose Bride...because I am a doll with no heart...I thought that no matter what befell my body, my heart wouldn't feel the pain.”

Anthy doesn’t see herself as capable of love. In a very rare moment where we’re privy to Anthy’s thoughts, Anthy wonders why Utena is fighting so hard to win her back from Touga in episode 12, For Friendship, Perhaps. At first, her voice is distant and hollow, as if she’s lost the ability to feel. But when Utena shows the power of Dios inside her, Anthy is genuinely surprised and moved. Anthy can see the ideal of the Prince in Utena that she used to love.

“You remind me so much of Dios when I loved him. But you can never be my prince, because you're a girl.”

But their relationship evolves beyond that of a prince and princess, or prince and witch. They become friends who develop romantic feelings for one another. Anthy and Utena’s relationship doesn’t fit the narrative of Ohtori Academy, because it’s one that allows them to leave their “coffins,”  and go beyond the roles assigned to them. 

Who ... are you?

Utena:

“I came all this way to be with you. So don’t be afraid of this world where we can meet.”

So, in the end, Anthy isn’t saved by an unattainable princely ideal, but a real relationship that goes beyond damaging oversimplified roles.

You really don't know what's happened, do you? By all means, stay in this cozy little coffin and continue to play the prince. But I have to go now. 

Even if Akio can’t see it, a revolution did occur. It’s not one where the “world’s shell” is smashed. The revolution is a gradual, quiet change is taking place among the duelists, Wakaba, and all the other people Utena touched. They are all growing up, unlike Akio, who can’t leave his “cozy coffin.”

But most significantly, Anthy has changed. She’s overcome her self-hatred and learned helplessness. In the end, Anthy was saved by a genuine relationship that inspires her to leave her abuser.

Her brother might not be able to leave his coffin, but Anthy can leave the Rose Bride behind. The second and final time we hear Anthy’s thoughts are when she leaves Ohtori to find Utena. 

“Now it's my turn to go. No matter where you are, I'll find you for sure. Wait for me, Utena.” 

But this time, her voice is filled with hope and joy for the life she is entering. 

The concept of the Rose Bride (like the Rose Prince) belongs to a worldview where people are reduced to a set of roles, and not valued for the people they are. Throughout the series, Anthy has gone from the passive Rose Bride, to a “venomous witch,” to a complex, flawed, yet deeply devoted person.  So the greatest revolution that could take place is one where Anthy can be free, and be with Utena, who’s not her prince or saviour, but her equal.