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. 

Stay

I stepped through the looking glass,

Walk on by, just a sweeping glance.

Never cared for wasted hours I amassed.

I’d pick up all my longing, and regret,

Heading to a new day, without relent,

And take the lie of my content

Wherever that I went.

I was stuck in my old ways

And let-down days.

But now I’m here, caught in the grey,

I know that I can be.

I know that I can be.

Stolen moments, fear and joy.

So suddenly, so easily, I see,

What’s been right in front of me.

And I can finally say,

I think that I can stay.

I think that I can stay.

Maybe I have lost my way,

And maybe I could fly away

But now that I can only see the grey,

I take a step to you and say,

That I could finally stay. 

I’d pick up all my longing, and regret,

Heading to a new day, without relent.

I’d take the lie of my content

 Wherever that I went.

I was stuck in my old ways

And let-down days.

But now I’m here, caught in the grey,

I know that I can be.

I know that I can be.

Stolen moments, fear and joy.

So suddenly, so easily, I see,

What’s been right in front of me.

And I can finally say,

I think that I can stay.

I think that I can stay.

Somehow, my defenses

Will just wear away.

And now I’m standing in today.

Chasing all my demons far away.

I was stuck in my old ways

And let-down days.

But now I’m here, caught in the grey,

I know that I can be.

I know that I can be.

Stolen moments, fear and joy.

So suddenly, so easily, I see,

What’s been right in front of me.

And I can finally say,

I think that I can stay.

I think that I can stay. 

Emma Miller (1839 – 1917)

Emma Miller, otherwise known as “Mother Miller” was an Australian revolutionary. She was a seamstress, suffragette, a leader of women and avid supporter of trade unions.

Born in England, Emma migrated to Queensland in 1879, bringing along populist ideals that would change Australia forever. Throughout Emma’s life, she was an active promoter of women, workers’ rights, and the idea one vote for every person. Emma was a small woman, yet her spirit and determination were larger than life.

As a prominent member of Brisbane’s Free-thought Association, she was an unyielding campaigner for equal pay and the rights of the working class. It was there, she gained her reputation as a bold radical thinker.

She also developed a name as a strong and charismatic public speaker. She was invited to speak at numerous public meetings on women’s suffrage. In 1890, Emma took the initiative of creating the first women’s union in Brisbane.

Being a tradesperson herself, Emma gave evidence at the Royal Commission into Shops, Workshops and Factories in 1891. “Back in the day,” women workers commonly received less pay and were subject to harassment. Times certainly have changed, haven’t they?

Emma was elected president of the Women’s Equal Franchise Association (WEFA) in 1884. Emma was a woman before her time, believing that gender inequality and class were overlapping issues. However, many disagreed with her, believing that the exploitation of the working class was a separate issue to the poor treatment of women.

Meanwhile, the upper class continued to rule the country. Farmers were entitled to a vote for each of their properties. And the rich farmers would buy, or inherit multiple properties.

Emma continued to campaign for one vote for one person, and that included women. Something that was predictably unpopular with the elites. The Telegraph newspaper called Emma and the others members of WEFA “autocratic,” and accused them of “hijacking the Labor Party.” It’s one good example of the past echoing conflicts in the present day.

Emma would accept nothing less than complete fairness in Australia’s voting system. And in 1904, women in Queensland were the right to vote in federal elections. Emma took another step in advancing equality one year later. She became a member of the Brisbane Political Labor Council. Emma had fully gained the esteem of the male-dominated organization.

Emma Miller's statue at King George Square
in Brisbane

But the battle for equality continued. After members of the Australian Tramways Association were sacked for being members of a union, the historical General Strike of 1912 began.

At 72-years-old, Emma played a pivotal and notorious, role in the protests. On 2 February, which would go down in history as Black Friday, protesters were denied permission to march that day. Still, Emma organised the 300 women who had come to protest, and they moved forward. When the police couldn’t stop the strike, they resorted to violence, lashing out at the women with their batons.

Emma fought back with only a hatpin. She stuck it into the rear end of the Police Commissioner’s horse. The Commissioner soon found himself on the ground, thrown from his stead in a very undignified manner! Emma’s actions that day were celebrated by her friends and fellow unionists as a victory against the oppressive authorities. 

Even after being diagnosed with cancer, Emma remained active. During WW1, Emma joined the committee for the Anti-Conscription Campaign and often gave speeches on the need for peace.

In 1917, Emma passed away after a long struggle with cancer. On the day of her death, Trades Hall flew the Australian flag at half-mast in honour of Emma activism. Fiercely protective and brave, Emma Miller was called the “Mother of the Labor Party.” She was a tireless campaigner for the downtrodden and working class, making her story one that needs to be told now.

Women in Australian History: Fanny Cochrane Smith

The aboriginal population in Tasmania is barely existent today. Colonialism either killed or drove away the Palawa, which translates to Tasmanian Aboriginals. Fanny Cochrane Smith was officially the last Indigenous Australian in Tasmania. Her voice carries the only records of the Palawa people.
Abducted in early childhood, Fanny endured abuse and the systematic attempts to indoctrinate her and her family into Western beliefs. Fanny’s mother and father, Tanganutura and Nicermenic were sent to Flinders Island, where their lives were ruled over by Rev. George Augustus Robinson and the other religious authorities. 
Fanny was born at the Wybalenna establishment on Flinders Island. There are no records of Fanny’s original name. Reverend Robinson chose Anglo names for all the children on the Island.  
However, she still had a connection to her culture, that lasted throughout her life. Fanny’s parents and the other Aboriginals on the island often escaped into the bushlands. Away from the Colonial authorities, they would perform the dances of their people, told stories of the Dreamtime (creation tales) and sing their traditional songs. 
Likely fearing this connection, the religious authorities removed Fanny from her parents care at only five-years-old. She was forced to live with Robert Clark, the preacher at Wybalenna. 
Judging the spirited Fanny as too unruly and independent, Clark sent Fanny to an orphan school in Hobart when she was eight. There, she was taught domestic skills and subjected to harsh punishments for refusing to throw away her culture. She was returned to Wybalenna at thirteen and continued to work for Clark and his family. He kept Fanny in squalor and beat her whenever she rebelled. 
Thankfully, Fanny would eventually escape from her life as a domestic servant. In 1847, the Wybalenna settlement was closed down. The 46 survivors, including Fanny and her family, were relocated to Oyster Cove in the south of Hobart. After many years of forced separation, she was finally able to live freely with her family and community. 
Fanny married an English sawyer and ex-convict in 1854. William Smith was a dependable hardworking man, who was sent to Australia after making the mistake of stealing a donkey! 
The two developed had a deep respect for another and developed a strong partnership. Wanting to provide a safe haven for the downtrodden, Fanny and William started a boarding-house in the centre of Hobart. 
Fanny’s brother, Adam frequently stayed with them, along with the rest of her people from Oyster Cove. Fanny worked to ensure her boarding house was one of the few places her people could find refuge.
When Adam passed away in 1857, Fanny and William moved to Oyster Cove, so Fanny could be close to her mother. She also opened the doors of her home in Oyster Cove to her people whenever they needed somewhere to stay. 
Fanny welcomed her friend Triganini into her home, who is often, mistakenly, recorded in history as the last of the Tasmanian Aboriginals. However, that title fell on Fanny’s shoulders when Triganini died in 1876.
After the loss of Triganini, Fanny felt the weight of an entire culture’s legacy rested on her shoulders. With an ever-pressing need carry on her people’s culture and beliefs, Fanny performed the songs and dances of her people for the public. 
In recognition of her status as last Aboriginal, the Tasmanian government granted her 300 acres (121 ha) of land. Fanny spent the rest of her life there. 
Fanny spent her life navigating between the European world, and the world of her people. As a devout Methodist, Fanny hosted an annual Methodist picnic. People would come from all over the country to see her perform the Palawa songs and dances.
In 1899, she shared the songs of her people at a concert held in her honour. Out of fear they’d be lost forever, Fanny recorded the Palawan songs on wax cylinders. When not performing, Fanny spent her time on the land diving for shellfish, hunting, and basket weaving.
Throughout her life, Fanny experienced great brutality and witnessed the subjugation of her people. Her passionate voice that proudly carried the language of her people, remains in the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery. Today, it is the only known recording of the Palawan language.