Cruel Angel Theses

Going through a period of chronic exhaustion while forcing myself to write this post hasn’t exactly been pleasant thanks to my lack of knowledge about Claymore itself — but that all fell away when I finally decided to read all 12 volumes of the manga yesterday morning. Fun times.

I came away from the aftermath shaken, not stirred. The clock said 6:00AM. Do I have any regrets about “spoiling” the story now that I know what’s going to happen in the anime? Maybe just a little. As far as I’m concerned, though, it’s all for the best, as it was an enjoyable experience, to say nothing of how it won’t be as hard to write about it from now on. Largely spoiler-free.

not a coincidence, really (click for full size)

I’m aware that Claymore can’t be technically called Rurouni Kenshin’s spiritual successor due to to how they have virtually nothing in common on the production level, bar the same manga publisher (Shueisha) and licensor in the United States (Viz Media), and even that’s a bit forced, in my opinion. Wikipedia notes that it’s been used to describe computer and video games for the most part, but since it isn’t an exclusive term, well, why not?

A good point of comparison here would be System Shock 2 and the yet to be released Bioshock, which is also mentioned in the article. Those of you who’ve had the fortune of playing SS2 will note that Bioshock, assuming you’ve seen the screenshots, is essentially SS2 taken to a whole new level in terms of AI, graphics, and gameplay, while maintaining the same tension, atmosphere, and numerous customisation options.

In the same way too does Claymore retain what made RK successful both critically and commercially, while adding at the same time new dynamics and clauses, allowing for freer storytelling and superior battles. First of all, though, what exactly was so great about RK to begin with? There’s too many things to list, if I may say so — from the well-detailed art (blood never looked so good) to battles that didn’t stretch on for battles’ sake, to going against usual genre conventions. An exceptional mention here, however, would be the pacifist stance adopted by the characters throughout.

For Kenshin isn’t one of those stock character templates, the usually overused delinquent tough guy who puts his brand of justice in a somewhat temperamental and violent form. Having sworn not to kill after a long and bloody past (the same past also used to drive the manga’s events), he sticks to that promise of his by using a sakabatou, an special invention of the manga-ka Nobuhiro Watsuki, which is basically a katana with its sharp and blunt edges reversed.

The side characters in RK echo this too — Kaoru and Yahiko wield bamboo swords, while Sanosuke would, after having his gigantic broadsword being broken by Kenshin himself, use nothing but his fists to do battle. It’s a refreshing philosophy from the norm, where it’s really a case of right vs might, for the “right” in this case distances itself from its shounen brethren through a refusal to deal the killing blow, choosing only to incapacitate as much as possible.

More importantly, above it all RK had heart. Despite its ruminations of numerous ideologies and how they come into conflict with one another, nail-gripping non-clich�d battles, and well-timed gags that didn’t detract from the serious overtones, it had heart above all. Probably the only series to ever dedicate an entire volume to a secondary character’s side story, RK would choose to get up close and personal with the machinations of a character, never once opting the easy way out through overused tropes or forwarding the plot at the expense of character development.

At the centre of it all lay Himura Kenshin, former cold-blooded assassin turned reformed pacifist. RK’s story, for the most part, dealt with how Kenshin confronts both his past and his darker killing self within, only to find redemption after a long internal struggle fraught with battle and strife. The ghosts of his past come to confront him, both literally and mentally, when he faces one slighted former opponent after another, all intent in taking down the legend for one purpose or another.

Compare this then to Claymore, which is first and foremost fantasy in the immediate sense of the word. The disparity between it and RK lie in how while RK’s emphasis lay on the potent characterisation that complemented the fast and furious swordplay, Claymore’s emphasis, on the other hand, lies in showing off the beauty of the world it takes place in. Just when you’ve thought you’ve seen it all, they up the ante power levels again, and you’re left in a state of shock and awe.

The inevitable training process, or “levelling up” of the character, too, is done in a manner befitting its stature: No deus ex machina, no villains that play nice, and more importantly, no cheap second winds that shounen protagonists are known to tap into — as those who’ve read the Invasion of Pieta arc should know. Everything comes with a price, be it the loss of a limb, a fellow Claymore, or an entire platoon.

This is in contrast to RK, where the readers didn’t have the pleasure of seeing Kenshin grow as a character or learn new moves (well, maybe just one). Watsuki, in choosing to take that path, built development through reputation, revealing, little by little, exactly how powerful Kenshin was through the numerous challengers and odds that he faced.

Here’s where Claymore ups the ante with regards to RK; as a rule of thumb, RK required a lot of suspension of disbelief in order for its action to be effective. Nevermind Kenshin’s ridiculous 10 (20?) foot jumps and array of incredible moves, it was just the beginning for characters like Sanosuke with his nigh-indestructible body, Makoto with his ignitable saw-blade, and Enishi with his Nerves of Insanity. Once you could accept that katanas had the ability to sever trees, blood loss was a subjective thing, and that there were people who could react faster than a grenade launcher, it worked its magic.

It’s what I’d call an Achilles heel, and this is where Claymore wins out, no thanks to the ability of Norihiro Yagi to craft a well-elaborated world with considerable depth. Its battles are on a scale that outstrip even Dragonball in terms of power, yet this is something I’ve never felt requiring much suspension of disbelief to follow, for while RK was set in the real world, Claymore takes place in a setting much unlike the world as we know it. There’s a wildcard element that comes with it being fantasy, too, because for all of RK’s efforts to diversify in terms of villains, I felt that Watsuki was pushing it at times with regards to things like elongated limbs, or the crushing power of Saitou’s Gatotsu.

Claymore has no such problems though, what with Helen’s elongated limbs or Jean’s piercing move being just the beginning of things. Aside from that, it also lends a more versatile angle to things; as Claymores have immense regeneration powers, the bar is raised each time a battle takes place. What other series would have the heroine losing her arm, only to regain a new one from another person as a parting gift, literally transplanting it onto herself using her regenerative powers? The possibilities here are endless, and wounds that would have incapacitated Kenshin are but temporary hindrances to the average Claymore.

It would be good to note here that the battles are, despite being Hybrid in nature, still hold along the lines of Superpower in the sense that a majority of the battles in Claymore are fought and won on the basis of how well a character grasps the situation dynamics. The same thing holds true here in RK; Makoto’s battle wasn’t won on the grounds of physical prowess, and Kenshin only made it through Enishi’s by the skin of his teeth and a well-placed move.

It’s a refreshing change from the norm, for this means that the rank numbers assigned to the Claymores are just that — numbers. As much as I’d like to say that the inevitable move analysis cum explanation of ability that takes place during almost every battle annoys me, it’s definitely a cut above having to see battles prolonged endlessly ala Dragonball. There’s never a clear victor in every battle, and Yagi cuts it rather fine in orchestrating his battle scenes, giving the reader a heck of a ride as the odds careen from one side to the next, never really being clear.

Last but not least, Claymore, like RK, has heart. There’s nothing worse than not being able to identify or connect with a character when it comes to something as distanced from reality like fantasy, but there’s no such problem here. The deaths, despite descending fast and furious on the home team, hit home when a character that’s been around for a couple of volumes is killed off — and having already done five of them in during the Invasion of Pieta (one in an especially personal and tragic manner), you can be assured that no one is safe from dying here, as Yagi doesn’t flinch away from the task.

As things go so far I don’t see how the anime adaptation can keep up with the manga unless they make a second season, but I’m not complaining. It’s a rare thing to actually be happy about spoiling an anime adaptation by reading its source material (for example, I still don’t see the need to read Bokurano’s manga), but Claymore is just that, a rare thing worth bending the rules for. Neither do I see how the anime is inferior to the manga in any way whatsoever — the first 8 volumes were condensed into 14 episodes, and while the anime kept things rolling consistently, the manga just felt draggy to me. Good thing events are picking up, in any case, since I’m looking forward to the next few arcs.