My biggest gripe about the girls GSG isn't the sexualisation (real or imagined) but the fact that they were obviously here to be creepy. Creepy/killer little girls are already far too common for me now, but a whole series revolving around this idea... It's not just overkill, it's also like the cheater's guide to creepy.
It's like these horror shows that surprise you with a jack-in-a-box, those movies that make you cry with closeup on crying people and violins... Can't they be effective without things that are so efficient that they became cliché?

You see, I try not to talk too much about Triela in public forums because, understandably, some people are a mite squeamish about... well, yeah.

But yes, the scene where Hillshire is forced to watch that video tape instantly made him my favourite character in the whole damn series, and is still one of the most perfectly visualised scenes I've found in a comic. The way he just... breaks...
It's like you're watching it destroy him, and he still comes back and says "If that's what's out there, then how can I sit back and do nothing?"




Except that Gunslinger Girl is one of the few shows that doesn't follow the cliche. Henrietta is kind of sullen at first, but only until Jose starts to bring her out of her shell. Later on she has her whole shutterbug thing with the camera and the diary. Rico really starts to show a playful tomboyish side, especially in the manga, where Jean spends half his time having to stop her from climbing on walls, jumping on beds, and generally acting like a hyperactive kid. Triela is outright precocious, and it's rare to find a scene where she isn't smiling warmly, and for all that Claes is kind of withdrawn, it's never a creepy stare or anything like that. She just happens to bury her nose in a book a lot or lose herself in her gardening. Angelica has her whole "The Prince of Pasta" thing (too damn cute by far), and despite her nervousness and poor health, she's still pretty energetic.
The only example of a "creepy girl" in the whole of Gunslinger Girl is Elsa, who has her disturbing obsession with her handler, and that's because the whole point of having the character there is to highlight how well adjusted the other girls are in comparison.

The real zinger of this thread is all the pointing to gunslinger girls. When I watched it, I was like "cool! schoolgirls totally shooting people and being badass!" I'm a smart person (objectively speaking) but I guess when it comes to art, I'm a philistine

Eh. No law that says you have to deconstruct everything you see. If some of us here enjoy that sort of thing, so be it.
My only complaint is when people dismiss stuff because they didn't actually make an effort to understand it, or to judge it on it's own merits. If people have seriously considered something, and still don't like it, fair enough. If they've just prejudged it then I tend to get antsy (hence why I always try to say when I've prejudged something myself, Real Drive being the earlier example. Watched it, lost interest, but someone comes here and says "Hey, it's really good." I look at my own judgement of it and I say "Well, I only saw one episode, and this person is arguing on the strength of having seen most of the series... maybe I should give it further consideration." Of course, I'm also disturbingly obsessive about art in general, so I actually consider this stuff a priority where most people wouldn't.)

That was my earlier point though. If you watch something at face value, and then don't like it or lose interest in it, further consideration should not be necessary. The author should be able to hold your interest even without you delving into the deeper, hidden meanings and messages in his work.

Hmm... perhaps I miss-worded that.

Yes, the author should be able to hold your interest, but that isn't the only factor in people choosing to continue with, or discard, a creative work.
Very often, despite something being an incredibly entertaining work that would hold their attention just fine, people will dismiss stuff because it ticks off some personal annoyance of theirs, or because they go in with misconceptions about what they're watching...

Put it this way; I'm sure you could name comedy films that you love, and serious films that you love. But if somebody handed you a film and said "Seriously, you have to watch this, it's the funniest thing ever", and the film turned out to be an incredibly depressing and morbid drama... since you sat down to watch a comedy film and have a good laugh, you'd probably turn off fairly quickly, wondering what's wrong with your friend's sense of humour.
How we approach a creative work can have a massive effect on our appreciation of it. Holding someone's interest isn't a simple A+B formula. It's an incredibly complicated process that has a lot to do with the psychology and the mindset of the reader. Often the key to a good creative work is actually luring the reader into the correct mindset first.

I've known plenty of songs, films, TV shows, books, and whatever else that I've tried, and hated, only to pick them up a month later and absolutely love them, because I was in the right mood to appreciate them. If we dismiss everything as bad writing just because it didn't grab us the first time, we miss out on a vast wealth of interesting artistic experiences as a result.

I have a problem with this. I believe that getting the viewer/reader into the right mind set is part and parcel of the creative process, and not something that should have to be prepared beforehand.

What prompted my earlier comment can basically be summed up as ...



I don't think the critic (in this case) has a valid point, as the reader should not have to work or struggle to enjoy the experience. Sure, the extra effort can, and often does enhance the viewing/reading experience, but it should not be a basic requirement, and readers/viewers that do not enjoy the product on first exposure should not be berated for experiencing it in an incorrect manner, or with an improper mind set.

You could, in theory, create a set of objective criteria by which works should be judged. In fact, that's pretty much what critics argue about -- not whether something satisfies their own personal likes and dislikes, but whether it is, in truth, good.

The problem is, when you're talking to amateurs, they are widely not likely to know or care about any objective formulation of goodness. The amateur is looking for nothing other than a subjective good feeling. If a work is incapable of creating that feeling in a person, and if that feeling is the only thing they truly care about in a work, then they will not like it. It can be intrinsically good, it can be the best piece of art there ever was. When we're talking about subjective appreciation, that doesn't matter even a little bit. You can tell people that they should subjectively like things that are objectively good, but you can't make them. If someone thinks that David, regarded as the best statute in history, is stupid because his hands are too big and his dick is small, you should just leave them alone

Mr. Gaiman makes a good point, I hadn't even thought about non-pornographic art containing banned material.


The most tear-jerking moment I have ever experienced on either the big or small screens, has to be the episode of Buffy entitled "The Body." It's upsetting not because it goes out of its way to try and make the viewer cry, but because it's so frighteningly real. In a show that is often high-fantasy and frequently has its tongue lodged firmly in its cheek, it turns around and accurately depicts the reactions and grief of the people who knew the recently deceased. I can't watch that episode without crying two or three times - it's one of their best ever.


I have a friend who's an ex-lit student, so he knows all sorts of obscure movies, books, etc. When I mentioned that I was wholly unimpressed by anything Tarantino has ever produced, he mentioned that most Tarantino films have large numbers of parodies, nods and mentions of other films, and that if you've seen all those other films, you'll get a lot more enjoyment out of his. My response was basically that that still didn't make his films good - it just meant they were riddled with in-jokes.

For all the deconstruction and analysis you can put Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Neon Genesis Evangelion through, the only reason they were such good shows is because they stood on their own merits as sterling pieces of entertainment. Conversely, Tolkien's Lord of the Rings is amazing for what it is, but the actual book is a little dry - Tolkien was an excellent storyteller, but not a particularly entertaining writer.

I think the major problem is that there is no such thing as 'objectively good.' Even critics disagree strongly on the merits of a particular work, judging it solely on their own unique and subjective criteria. The layman's criteria are no less valid than the critic's - they're just more easily understandable.

Ok. In the latest episode I've watched, dogs have their own internet. All the critics are wrong, Real Drive wins.

Firstly, to clarify, I meant that the writer needs to lure the reader into the correct mindset first.



Let me use an analogy: I hand you a juciy, perfectly cooked steak, and then tell you that you're going to have to cut it up before you can eat it.

Yes, it is the author's job to entertain, but they can only spoon feed the audience so much. Art demands participation on the part of the reader, and it demands some amount of effort. If we refuse to engage with any creative work that makes demands of us, we miss out on a lot.

Would you refuse to turn up to a roleplaying session because the GM refused to pre-gen your character for you?

There is no clear cut answer to where the work of the reader ends, and the work of the artist begins. A lot of modernist writing is incredible, but very few people can actually enjoy James Joyces Ullysses (I certainly didn't have the patience for it. One day I might). On the other hand you're unlike to find people aged 40 who only read Spot The Dog.
Ultimately, to take enjoyment from a work of fiction, you have to willing to invest a certain amount of effort into it.

For my part, whilst I accept that every reader has the right to determine what level of effort they are willing to invest in a piece of creative work, it still frustrates me to see so many people wanting to be spoon-fed everything, and refusing to offer the level of participation that brilliant art demands, and deserves.

But I don't have to cut it up to eat it. I could just pick the whole steak up and enjoy taking bites out of it. Cutting it up might very well enable a different experience, but I should still be able to enjoy the steak just fine without slicing it into pieces.

That's picking apart the analogy, not responding to the point.

The point is, I didn't do the work of cutting up the steak for you, because you wouldn't expect me to. If you sat down in a restaurant, ordered a meal, and the waiter blended it up and fed it to you with a teaspoon you'd probably feel insulted and more than a little weirded out.
We expect to have to make a little effort to get the things in life that we enjoy, but whilst we extend this courtesy... indeed, this expectation... to the people who serve us food, or whatever else, we don't do the same for writers, film-makers, musicians and other artists. That doesn't make a lot of sense to me.

No, that is addressing the analogy. I shouldn't need to cut the steak up to enjoy it, just as I shouldn't have to dissect the literary work to be entertained.

As far as work is concerned, I am doing my part. I bought the book (movie, whatever), and invested the time and energy into perusing it. Of course I could spend even more time doing a thesis on the author's hidden morale and motives, but that is beside the point, which is that I shouldn't have to spend that extra energy just to enjoy it in the first place.

As to your 'waiter' analogy, it doesn't wash as far as I am concerned. When I patronize a restaurant, I don't expect to have to cook my own meat and garden my own vegetables. They are prepared for me, and served to me at the table, ready-to-eat (Not everyone eats their meal the same way - I rarely blend my food items ). Just as the author prepares his work, and then serves me a finished product, ready for me to enjoy.

I really don't think your analogies hold up too well. My favourite pieces of 'art' of any kind are ones I didn't have to put any effort into in order to enjoy - sure, I could have delved deeper into them, researching what inspired them and reading interviews with the author to find out what he intended and how it contrasted with my perceptions, and occasionally I do, but that's not what I'm looking for when I pick up a book / movie / TV series / etc. What I want, first and foremost, is entertainment. That entertainment is of the highest quality when it is effortless.

And a roleplaying analogy holds even less water; being a player in a tabletop RPG is more like co-authoring the work of art than simply enjoying the final product.

So I guess we've dismissed the possibility that enjoyment of art is subjective for anyone other than a serious student of the arts? Because that's where my vote lies. We don't need to argue about how to enjoy steak if we just don't like steak and we prefer chicken. It might be the best steak in the world, that doesn't mean I have to like it, no matter how good it is. All kinds of people hate really great things for all kinds of reasons because their enjoyment of it is based on personal, subjective criteria. Personal enjoyment is not subject to a true/false determination, someone can't be wrong for disliking something due to personal taste, even if it's actually good. Fortune is not describing some kind of objective rule that art is not good unless it takes no effort to understand. He's just saying that he likes art which doesn't have to be analyzed and picked apart, it's just enjoyed. No matter what you say, you can't make him enjoy things the way you do.

Continuing with Real Drive... I think people who dismissed the ocean metaphor as "forced" are making a mistake. The farther I get into the series, the more it becomes clear that the metal acts like the ocean because it's connected to the ocean. Somehow they turned the earth's biorhythm into an internet, or something (which turns out to be a bad thing because it kills people inexpelicably). So it's just not a random arbitrary thing, it is (as one might have expected) more Shirow musing about a crossover between technology and mysticism.

OK, this debate appears to be growing completely farcical, so I'm going to make one last attempt to explain my point, and then sign off on it. This isn't me making a parting shot, or trying to have the last word. People are welcome to continue to make their own points on the subject, and I'll continue watching the thread to see what other people have to say on the matter. It just doesn't seem to do much good me continuing to discuss this because people are spending all their time trying to pick at the minutiae of my examples instead of trying to understand (not "agree with", just understand) my argument.



You really pick up your steak whole and chew on it in a restaurant? I can't imagine that goes down well with your dates. If you have valid reasons for disliking the anology, that's perfectly reasonable, but I don't see this as any kind of argument.



That's precisely my point. The cook does most of the work, just as the author does most of the work, but there's still an engagement required from the reader. If you read my previous posts again you will see that I was never suggesting that the reader should have to do all the work. That would be the same as buying a blank book and being told to write it yourself, which is worlds apart from the kind of "reader response" that I am talking about. There is, however, an interpretational aspect to all art, and that is something that should be encouraged. Forcing the author to spell everything out limits the possibilities inherent within the art. Ambiguity and multiple readings are part of what makes all art so exciting.

I'm not saying that everyone needs to enjoy every kind of art. If you look at my previous post I was making the point that everyone decides where they draw the line in terms of how much effort they will put into a piece of work. In the end it's a matter of prioriities. None of this, however, is lit student elitism or anything of the sort. I've had fantastic discussions on the artistic merits of various literary works with people who've never studied english lit in their lives, and have no care to. It's not about education, just about how much you are willing to put into understanding a creative work. Again, as Larme notes, that's a personal choice.

Please don't make the mistake of thinking me stupid. I do actually have a grasp on your point of view. I have understood it right from the start of this debate, which I believe I started. I just don't agree with it. I have already stated the reasons that I don't agree with it. All that is left for me to do in the mean time is to pick apart your analogies in a way that attempts to better illustrate my point of view, which is that a literary creation (or movie, or song, or ...) should be able to be enjoyed without overt scrutiny. In my opinion, if the creation requires more work than actually reading it (watching it, listening to it, eating it, etc.) to be a pleasurable experience, then it fails as a piece of art. Note though that I have stated on numerous occasions that deeper examination can of course lead to further enjoyment of the book (artwork, movie ...), but that it shouldn't be necessary.

...and I guess the thread is no longer about the merits of the topic anime? Cuz if so, I can stop commenting on it, and instead I'll start a bitter argument about a question that isn't subject to true/false determination and could theoretically continue in a circular fashion forever...

I really do think that failing to give real drive a chance based on the "forced" metaphor is actually a mistake though. The series does explain the metaphor gradually, I'm coming to think. It's not something completely arbitrary and stupid, though if you just watched a few episodes I see how you might think that.

iirc, the interaction between the earth and the metal comes from the metal being highly radio based (much like the SR4 matrix or todays mobile phone network).

and when you have a system set up to transfer simulated sensory data, this can have interesting side effects.

one of the latter episodes have the crew investigating a odd signal/noise.

while not exactly spelled out, im guessing the metaphor is this:

depth in the virtual sea means closeness to the raw data stream of the network (kinda like reading the traffic from a multitude of routers with a packet sniffer), and this effort is highly taxing on the brain, kinda like how deep free diving is on the human body.

therefor, just like how humans can only stay under without breathing, the brain can only handle so much of this raw data feed.

so by using the sea as a metaphor, one can trigger built in reactions that the brain have learned over generations.

also, this sea metaphor is the admin metaphor seen by those doing work on the data traffic itself. others either just see windows in midair or more common surface VR, one see this sometimes, like when people have virtual meetings, or when Haru has to go into someone elses VR space to look around.

so i guess the sea metaphor could be compared to some SR hacker using the UMS as his basic interface, rather then going for some kind of sculpture.