[TinyRedLeaf]

At last, I finally found the time to marathon this sequel.

Yes, it's fairly obvious that much of the original material had been drastically abridged to fit an 11-episode storyboard, even to a non-manga reader like me, who hasn't watched the live-action drama either. But then again, I've always felt that the first season wasted several episodes in the middle, meandering around pointlessly in between Stresseman's departure and the setting up of the Rising Star Orchestra. So, having more episodes doesn't necessarily guarantee a better story either.

By contrast, Paris-hen was focused on what it takes to be a successful professional musician — it takes talent, hard work and a joy for life. The various musicians featured this season each had to find a perfect balance between these three dimensions, before they could truly find their own voice.

Character development clearly took a major hit though. It was hard enough to relate to supporting characters in the first season — it was even harder this time round. But on the plus side, this allowed the romance between Chiaki and Nodame — arguably the biggest draw factor of this series beside its classical music — to take centrestage.

As for the other major casualty, the performance scenes, I'm not a big fan of classical music, so their absence is not a major loss to me. It's not that I dislike the genre per se, but rather that I disdain the elitist attitude of many classical-music fans. My outlook on any kind of fine art, from music to sculpture and paintings alike, is that it's meant to be enjoyed, and not to be worshipped upon a pedestal. You don't need special training to know whether something's good — if it makes you laugh; if it makes you cry; if it rips your heart out, that's great art.

That, to me, is the whole point of the Chiaki-Nodame dichotomy. Chiaki represents the relentless pursuit of an absolute ideal represented by the sacrosanct intentions of a composer, whereas Nodame — like Mozart apparently — played music simply for the sheer fun of it, etiquette be damned. The former is the perfect — but coldly methodical — follower of trends, while the latter is the creator of fresh new directions in music. Together, they make a complete couple. Paris-hen, in my opinion, explored this dynamic much better than the first season.

Overall, Paris-hen was ok. Not brilliant, but entertaining nonetheless. As for why this sequel was so short when it evidently could have used more episodes, I'd hazard a guess: It's the economy, stupid.

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On a more personal note, Paris-hen reminded me nostalgically of how I found my "own voice" in literary critique, particularly practical criticism of poetry.

In my first year of junior college, donkey years ago, my class as a whole struggled to understand what makes a poem great. Our teacher would point out the various mechanics of a poem, including rhyme, meter, alliteration, imagery and theme. We'd diligently apply these tools, but still ended up getting dismal marks for our efforts. It was utterly demoralising.

Not surprisingly, many of my classmates grew to hate the subject, believing — as most people would — that the great poets were people who spoke in a coded language that no one but they and their admirers could decipher. I can imagine my teacher's exasperation at the time: "What am I doing wrong? Why don't my students 'get' it?"

Looking back, we were not unlike poor Nodame stepping into the Paris Conservatory for the first time.

One sunny afternoon though, towards the end of my freshman year, I suddenly "found the light" while I was strolling in a public garden, listening to my thoughts. It was a moment of epiphany: a short, sharp spark of clarity. Eureka!

I realised that appreciating a poem is, in essence, no different from appreciating music — any kind of music. I had been so caught up with trying to interpret a poem, that I had quite simply forgotten to ask whether I enjoyed it. If I did, why? If not, why? Understanding comes only after the enjoyment.

From that moment of revelation, the world looked different. It was as though a fog had lifted, revealing perspectives I never knew existed — a universe of creative ideas, intertwined in harmony.

A good poem is built around a few core themes, relying on a tightly bound structure of words, rhyme, meter and imagery to evoke emotion. It's about delivering emotion through the written word. If it works, an effective poem ought to sound like music to the ear, even though a single note is never played.

A good poem doesn't have to deliver a message. Indeed, the message itself is unimportant. It's the emotions that it makes you feel that matter. You don't even have to share the poet's original intentions. Your own interpretation is valid so long as you can support it with evidence.

"Strangely, that's rather persuasive. Your musical analysis really takes creativity to a whole new level."
— Chiaki, on Nodame's interpretation of Pathetique, Episode 4

Late night, Chiaki and Nodame are walking along the Seine

Chiaki: About 1,500 years ago, studies were carried out to understand the harmony of the world that God has created. It consisted of astronomy, geometry, number theory and music.

Nodame: Sounds like a talk about the universe...

She pauses. A thought has occured to her

Nodame: Are the rehearsals tough, Shinichi-kun? Do you hate the Marlet Orchestra now?

Chiaki is startled. Nodame had correctly guessed what was troubling him

Chiaki: Even though I understand the small things, for this orchestra, I have to find the harmony among them all.

He pauses

Chiaki: Lately, it looks like you've been doing nothing but practise. I think you're doing well.

Nodame: I'm doing my best so that I can play in your orchestra and your concerto.

Chiaki smiles

Chiaki: Is that really it? You work hard and practise every day, but it's not just to play a concerto with me, right?

Nodame smiles in return, and looks up to the starry sky

Nodame (thinking to herself): I'm sure the stars I'm looking at now are the same ones you're looking at.

Chiaki and Nodame discovered harmony in the universe — through each other's company.

That, in my opinion, is Paris-hen's core message. It resonates within me because of my life experiences, just as much as the events of the time influenced Romance and Impressionist artists, and correspondingly, their fellow musicians.

For this reason alone, I enjoyed this series, despite its many flaws. Art doesn't have to be perfect to be enjoyable.