Quote:
Originally Posted by physics223
This is something I thought about in MAL:
If you really think about it, the term 'Tatami Galaxy' is an oxymoron. Assuming that one pertains to the regular Japanese room, 4.5 tatami mats correspond to nine square feet. That's how big the room is. Yet, incongruous with the tatami is term 'galaxy,' something vast and nigh-infinite. As a description of the titular character we are presented with this incongruity: he believes he can do big things, and yet is an insignificant person in reality, respected and treated as a normal human being by only Akashi-san and Ozu. Yet just as the limited space of the 4.5 tatami mat is creatively expanded and utilized by most Japanese, so can his wicked and jealous person be transformed into something good and humane.
As I've said in my post, Ozu is merely Watashi's scapegoat yet he himself fails to see that the shortcomings are coming from within. I believe that as the story develops we shall see him evolve to become the person who can speak his mind and cherish love as well as improve upon himself: perhaps he'll finally confess to Akashi-san.
I really like this anime because I am Watashi to some extent: I sometimes wonder whether I should still pine for the possibility of a beautiful lady to know, or content myself with the people who care for me. I don't mean this in merely romantic terms: should I stay content with the people who love me? Should I not look further? Or should I dream?
Although I'm not as vitriolic or vituperative as Watashi is, the questions that he posits in the anime are very relevant to me, and to everyone who calls himself human.
@MeoTwister5
Wait. How come? Were you two years ahead of me?
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Anyone who's had to wrestle with their own limitations as a person would know exactly how he feels. To me his room feels more like a prison than an expansive universe rife with possibilities. The viewers know as well that he is a very capable and thoughtful person, not just Ozu and Akashi. The only ones who don't know just how talented he is is everyone else but, more importantly, himself. He tries a lot but in the end he pushes himself down rather than expand and find new ways. Episode 2 shows that rather than get up and try again better, he gets up and tries again for something a whole lot different and a whole lot more sinister to say the least. The irony in all this is that it is when he decides to proceed with the more unethical choices is when his ability shines.
His room seems more like a prison retreat than anything else. At the end of the day when things go to hell he goes back there to wallow in his failure rather than cook up some other plan to better his life. At the end of episode 2 this is exactly what he does, and in the pilot episode this is where he is before he gets pushed to the festival and eventually gets tossed into the river.
Ozu isn't so much a scapegoat in the classic sense. You can't deny the fact that his influence does push the protagonist into his sense of failure, anger and some degree of probable paranoia. He's there when he needs him but he's also causing a lot of problems.
At first I thought the reset happened because he got tossed into the drink and probably drowned or something, but it seems like the reset happens either at a specific point of a specific day, or probably when he reaches the point of abject mental and emotional resignation to his plight.
And I failed Anatomy first year so I got held back 1 year.
