Looking back on Ch 90, I failed to fully appreciate this panel.
Eren’s words here echo what Levi told him back in the Female Titan arc.
Which is why the Ch 90 panel includes Levi looking thoughtful. He realises that what he told Eren back then clearly stuck with him and influenced his attempts to save Armin.
Additionally, the words ‘How can anyone know the future?’ carry an immense irony. It’s in this very chapter that Eren will see the future when he kisses Historia’s hand. From there, it is not ignorance that he struggles with, but painful awareness. Instead of trying to decipher the best option, he has to reconcile himself with a nightmarish outcome.
The final pages of the updated ending are bold, but I think ultimately more evocative than the original preliminary ending.
Even after the intensely polarized reader reception that took issue with the lack of storytelling precision and clarity when it was most needed, SNK chose to end with a decisively ambiguous symbol. In literature, a symbol is something that clearly means something -- but with the most "literary" symbols, their meaning cannot be absolutely defined; any attempted answer as to what a symbol represents has no finality or certainty, and interpretation will remain ever open to debate. A symbol both invites and resists interpretation.
Naturally, the immediate response to the symbolic tree on the final page is to try answering the invitation to the question, "What does it mean?"
One prominent answer I've seen is that it symbolizes the continuation of the cycle of war and violence either because a) of the symbolic parallel to Ymir or b) on a more literal level, that it implies the actual potential revival of new era of Titans. A reasonable interpretation either way, but also, I think, an incomplete one.
The first reason for this is that "the endless cycle of war" was already clearly and powerful represented in the preceding panels:
The cycle of war was already continuing in the decades or centuries before the child arrived at the tree. A culminating image symbolizing the persistence or resurgence of an era of war as the final panel would thus arguably be redundant and unnecessary.
Furthermore, the chapter is entitled "Toward the Tree on That Hill." If the tree were simply a symbol of war, by implication the chapter could equally be called 'toward the endless cycle of war'. But such a relentlessly bleak and tonally flat ending sentiment would be firmly incongruous with the story's recurrent conviction in the equal cruelty and beauty of the world -- a conviction that I believe it has been faithful to all the way to its end.
But while on this topic of war, let's linger a moment on the "cruelty" side and the consequence of this wordless construction and subsequent destruction of a city -- the most bold and possibly controversial additional panels that are also my personal favourite additions.
One objection that has emerged against this brief sequence of Paradis' apparent destruction is that it renders the entire story to be "pointless". Eren's 80% Rumbling, Armin's diplomatic peace talks between the remnants of the Allied Nations and Paradis, and before that, the proposal of the 50-year plan and Zeke's euthanasia plan... everything, to the very beginning to the Survey Corps' dreams of some kind of freedom; was it all for nothing? All that striving, that hope, that final promise bestowed upon Armin: was it all a pointless story? Even more radically, is the story suggesting that Eren might as well have continued the Rumbling to 100% of the earth? Was Zeke's euthanasia plan the cruel but correct choice all along? What was the point of rejecting the 50-year plan if that had a greater chance of success at preventing this outcome?
I think Isayama suddenly pulling back to such a long-term view of history to the scale of decades or even centuries into the future calls for a reorientation in attitude towards exactly what kind of story we have been reading. Yes, if the metric is Paradis' survival, maybe it was indeed all "pointless". But that's also to say that, on the broadest scale, SNK is a story about futility, that it is a deliberate representation of the struggle to make one's actions historically meaningful.
In the long view of history, all the events, from Grisha running beyond the wall to see the airships and the first breaking of Wall Maria to Erwin's sacrifices, Paradis' discovery of the outside world, and finally to the Battle of Heaven and Earth, it would all merely be a handful of chapters in the history textbooks of the future. A future in which war and geopolitical conflict will continue even without Titans. That does not mean that all paths to the future are equal -- the 50-year plan would not have put an end to Titans, and Zeke's euthanasia plan distorts utilitarian ethics into just another form of oppression; there are better and worse decisions that lead to more and less degrees of suffering, but no decision can ever be the final one.
The additional panels remind us that in history, there never exists a singular "Final Solution". The reason there are readers who vehemently support Eren to have flattened 100% of the world, and the reason the Paradisians supported the oppressive, authoritarian, proto-fascist Jaegar Faction under Floch and even after the Rumbling, is that because they want to believe that a Final Solution to end conflict exists and will work. They resist the fundamental uncertainty and complexity of the situation, instead preferring a singular, unified, and coherent Answer to Paradis' struggle to survive. I'm reminded of the scholar Erich Auerbach's theorization of why fascism appealed to many people during periods of political and social crisis, change, and uncertainty. Writing in exile after fleeing Nazi Germany, he observed that:
"The temptation to entrust oneself to a sect which solved all problems with a single formula, whose power of suggestion imposed solidarity, and which ostracized everything which would not fit in and submit - this temptation was so great that, with many people, fascism hardly had to employ force when the time came for it to spread through the countries of old European culture." (from Mimesis p. 550)
This acutely describes the Jaegar Faction's rise to power and continued dominance in Paradis. But their promise of unity, of a single formula to wipe out the rest of the world either literally through the Rumbling, or to dominate them with military force, is a false one. Even if Eren had Rumbled 100% of the world instead of 80%, history would still go on. The external threat of the world may have been eliminated, but internal conflict and violence would still continue onward throughout the generations born on top of the blood of the rest of the world. Needless to say, out of all the options, Eren's 80% Rumbling is the very epitome of perpetuating the cycle of violence as it creates tens of thousands of war orphans like Eren once was, and it would justify employing violence for one's own self-interest to an extreme degree. For the generations to come that would valourize Eren as a hero, it would set a dangerous precedent for what degree of destruction is acceptable for self-defence -- nothing short of the attempt to flatten the entire world. It is no surprise that Paradis would meet a violent end when its founding one-party rule of the Jaegar Faction has their roots in such unapologetically bloody foundations.
Neither the 80% Rumbling nor the militaristic, ultra-nationalistic Jaegar faction that come to govern Paradis are glamourized as the "correct" solution to ensuring Paradis' future. (This can also put to rest any accusations of SNK's ending as "fascist" or "imperialist" propaganda, since the island's modern nation that they founded ends in war. All nations must fall eventually, but not all do in such blatant destruction). Importantly, neither is Armin's diplomatic mission naively idealized as that which permanently achieves world peace. No singular or unifying formula can work because reality is complicated. Entrusting oneself to seemingly simple Answers is simply insufficient, even if they are ideals of peaceful negotiation; that method may work given the right conditions, but the world will always eventually complicate its feasibility.
After all in the real world, there's the absurd irony that some in the West had called the First World War "The War to End all Wars". These days, WWI is merely one long chapter in our textbooks just a few pages away from the even longer chapter of the Second World War that is followed by all the rest of the conflicts that have followed since then even with the establishment of diplomatic organizations like the United Nations. In this sense, showing Paradis' eventual downfall is perhaps the only way to end such a series that is so concerned with history, from King Fritz's tribal expansion into empire, the rise and fall of Marleyan ascendency, and finally of the survival and apparent shattering of Paradis.
From its beginning to its end, SNK has poignantly evoked J.R.R. Tolkien's conception of history as The Long Defeat. In one character's words, "together through ages of the world we have fought the long defeat". That is to say, "no victory is complete, that evil rises again, and that even victory brings loss".
Eren's desperate, fatalistic resignation to committing the Rumbling, along with the characters' rejection of all the rest of the earlier plans to ensure Paradis a future, are merely the actions of human beings to that began with the need to find not even necessarily a Final Answer, but at least an acceptable and feasible one for the time being. But the characterization of Eren's confusion, childishness, and regret in the final chapter is startlingly real in how it demonstrates how, all along, we have been dealing not with grand heroes, but simply people who have no answers at all. SNK has always been about failures - and often ironic failures; it has always been a story about painful and frequently futile struggle.
People make mistakes, they can be short-sighted, selfish, biased, immature, petty, and irrational, and I think the ending follows through with depicting the consequences of that.
Erwin's self-sacrifice before being able to reach the basement (and his regression to a childhood state in the moments before his death), Kenny's futile chasing after that universal compassion he had seen in Uri, Shadis never being acknowledged by history despite his final heroic action, and so on -- these stories of ironic, futile failures are still meaningful in their mere striving. Eren's ending and Paradis' demise despite Armin's endeavour to ensure them a peaceful future are entirely consistent with this.
SNK certainly follows the shounen trope in which young individuals are bestowed great power and correspondingly great responsibility, and must then reconcile the burden of possessing that greatness on which the fate of the world depends. Yet it is equally defined by its representation of the state that us normal human beings confront everyday: the struggle against the apparent powerlessness to enact any meaningful or lasting change at all. Simultaneously, this helpless state does not exempt us from the responsibility to act in whatever small capacity we are able to resist oppression, ideological extremism, and the perpetuation of violence.
That was a rather long but vital digression about the additional "construction and destruction" pages. To return to the issue of the symbolism in the final panel, here I will turn from seemingly affirming the tree as symbolizing the cycle of violence, towards what I think is the greater complexity of what the tree might "actually" symbolize.
As I've said above, I don't believe that the final chapter title is synonymous with 'toward the endless cycle of war'. In tone, theme, and characterization, SNK has always been defined by the tension between cruelty and beauty, the will to violence and the underlying desire for peace, and the rest of the contradictory impulses that all simultaneously coexist. The end of SNK as a whole commits to a similar lack of closure, ambiguity, and interpretive openness.
So far I have rambled on about only a view of the perpetual "cruelty" of history. Where, then, is the "beauty"?
In short, the "tree = cycle of violence" interpretation is obviously based on how that this tree recalls the original tree in which the spine creature, as the source of the power of the Titans, resided. But it's worth first considering, what exactly is this creature? We seem to get our answer in the chapter that most precisely crystallizes the dual "cruelty and beauty" of the world:
The spine creature might be said to be life itself. Or more specifically, the will of life to perpetuate itself, for no reason at all but for the fleeting moments in which we feel distinctly glad to have existed in the world.
The creature at the source of the Titans, and in extension the Titans themselves, is neither inherently a positive or negative, "good" or "evil", creative or destructive force. It's both and all of those at once. As with any power, the Titans were merely a tool that was put to use to oppressive ends.
So as I now suggest that the tree at the end is symbolically a "Tree of Life", I don't at all mean "life" in the typically celebratory or optimistic sense: rather, I mean it in the ambiguous, ambivalent, uncertain, and complex sense that has been evoked throughout the above discussion of the inevitable continuation of war.
The title "Toward The Tree on That Hill" is derived from its associations with Eren and Mikasa, but more specifically of course, from Armin's affirmation of existence. However, the tree as a symbol of existential affirmation is undercut with the revelation that, despite Armin's diplomatic mediation between the Allied Nations and Paradis, the island nation never escapes war just as no nation in the history of the earth has ever fully escaped war.
The image of Armin running toward that life-affirming tree by the end becomes twisted and complicated, as the image of the anonymous child approaching the Tree of Life evokes both awe at its beauty and grandeur, and a deep dread at the foreboding of its cyclical return to Ymir's tree that signalled the beginning of a bloody era.
And I think that is precisely it: Life is not some idealized, beautiful vision that we always want to run toward; it is also ironic, complicated, and dreadful. It is ambivalent. Like a literary symbol, the meaning of life cannot be pinned down absolutely. The tree therefore becomes itself a symbol of uncertainty, of an open future that is cyclical both in its beauty and war.
As a final observation, it is surely no coincidence that, the small, black, birdlike silhouettes of the war planes destroying the city from the sky is replaced by the similarly small black silhouettes of birds in the final panel.
If the birds represent freedom from war, the irony is that the immediately surrounding land appears to be one completely empty of people save for the exploring child; it is a freedom attained only without people's presence. Yet at the same time, a child from some existing civilization has reached it; perhaps it is freedom that they have reached, perhaps it is something else that they see in the tree. What is it that they were looking for? What does the tree and its history represent for the child, and what does it mean for their future? Alternatively, does the child-in-the-forest imagery negatively recall the warning that the world is one huge forest of predator and prey that we need to protect children from entering?
Rather than providing answers, this tree embodies all of the potential questions, and all of the potential answers. These possibilities will unfold themselves into an uncertain future beyond the chapters of history that Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Zeke, Erwin, and all the rest of the characters were part of and left their mark on; and whatever future this child will witness or create, it will similarly be one of the struggle against futility, as the journey begins anew with each generation in every new era. Neither - or both - hopeful or despairing, the final image of this tree, just like life itself, contains those innumerable irresolvable tensions as it gestures towards all possibilities, both oppressive and free.
“ If other people are going to steal my freedom... i’m going to steal theirs “
T w i t t e r: sucubuss_art
This reminds me of something from an interview with the editor.
When the series started in 2009, Kawakubo’s original suggestion was for Isayama to draw something “easy for the majority of the public to understand and caters to them.” However Isayama responded with “But who represents this ‘majority?’” as he preferred to create something with immense impact, even if understood by few. They continued to argue back and forth about this for an entire year.
After an unreasonably long wait, here are my thoughts on the ending in more detail. I’ve always tried my best to decipher the author’s reasons behind their narrative decisions instead of dismissing them off the bat if they rub me the wrong way. But, in the case of this final chapter, I can’t help but find it unworthy of all that came before it.
This critique is divided into four subsections: ‘An Irresponsible Plan’, ‘Underwhelming Heroes’, ‘Wasted Characters’, and ‘A Gimmicky Solution’. The ending launched so much new information at us that I can’t cover everything, but I have addressed those errors in plot, themes, tone, and characterisation that disappointed me most.
Keep reading
Commission for @neezuko - A fanart Eren and Historia .
Letting go of the past is something a lot of the characters in SnK struggle with. At a larger level, the royal family, Mare and the rest of the world do as well. You could actually sum up the whole conflict of this manga with that idea.
As the story approaches it’s conclusion, the people are starting to realize that this impending doom that is the rumbling is a consequence of them relying on an old hatred that should’ve stayed in the past, and begin feeling regret.
But where do Mikasa and Armin come into this? As I said, they can’t let go of their past, which is largely defined by Eren’s presence, so they struggle to go against him because they’re too used to fight for and rely on him to act, which in part made things turn out this way by not confronting Eren’s dark side, leading to their regrets.
Let’s start with Armin as people often don’t notice how as dependent as Mikasa he is to Eren. That’s not to minimize his bond with Mikasa, the whole point of him becoming a soldier is so that he can be with Eren and Mikasa, but his connection with Eren is deeper because they shared the same dream of seeing the outside world, as is Mikasa’s connection with Eren deeper as he was the one to show her beauty in a cruel world.
So, until recently, Armin’s reason for fighting was to live alongside Eren and Mikasa and fulfill his dream of exploring the world with his best friend. He had to grow up to be able to accomplish this, he would have to overcome his fears, to understand that he is also important and reliable to EM, that he has to make sacrifices, that this isn’t a world of good vs bad guys.
In the final arc, many people complain about how useless Armin got, including Eren. While I agree that he’s far less efficient in the final arc, this is obviously purposeful. Our main characters see themselves in a situation where they don’t know if Eren is exactly on their side any longer. Eren keeps them in the dark, so they don’t know how to react or what to expect. It’s much more noticeable in Armin’s case, who’s not the fighter type, and to further emphasize his passiveness, hasn’t even used his titan in the final arc yet.
Eren is part of his dream and reason for fighting, so when this person is possibly against you and the enemy is mostly innocent brainwashed civilians, Armin is stuck, and when shit hits the fan he blames himself for things even Erwin would possibly fail to deal with as well and reverts to his insecure state. He can only draw his full potential with Eren as a friend. He may be able to sacrifice others and most preferably himself, but sacrificing Eren’s a different story.
Mikasa is the most obviously stuck by her bond with Eren. She did grew considerably, from forming other bonds, keeping her emotions in check to an extent, relying on others, being less of a 2nd mom to Eren and giving more importance to the bigger picture. Still, her powerful connection to him makes her hesitate, ignoring the problem, clinging to idealistic solutions and leaving her decision to the very last moment (curiously similar to how she didn’t act on her feelings for him) because she’s cornered to a point where she has to choose between Eren against humanity and her friends. It’s too difficult a choice to make. She has to choose between two parts of her life she grew to love, one beauty for the other. This is her ultimate serumbowl.
Clearly, EMA still have more room to grow, and what’s in their earlier lives and personalities that hold them back. For Eren, ironically, it’s his need to break free, to not being held back by anything, for Mikasa it’s her comfort in having a family and for Armin it’s his dream, which is inseparable from Eren.
MA are growing in the direction of altruism and becoming their own people, independent from Eren, they shouldn’t need their lives to revolve entirely around him, while the latter is going in the opposite direction by succumbing to his flaws and not letting go of the past, although I’m hesitant to call Eren immature for that due to the sheer unfairness of the situation and lack of context from his side.
It’s very fascinating how both Mikasa and Armin have almost been there in the Trost arc, even before their developments in other areas in later arcs. The fact that they could live independently from Eren was always right at their faces and ours.
After they thought Eren was dead in the Trost Arc, they broke down, succumbed to their weaknesses, that weakness for Mikasa being not having a home to go back to and for Armin, to feel like a burden resulting in them almost giving up their lives. What kept them going was realizing they still have their comrades, that life’s not just about their connection with Eren (Mikasa to a smaller extent, given how Eren’s message was the main reason, but still).
But Eren came back, and so MA went back to their old ways. Mikasa would still be overprotective and putting him above the world later on, Armin would still fight fueled by his dream, panic and loathe himself for his shortcomings. I can’t blame them, they were still not mature enough in the other aspects. Eren is like a wall or a comfort zone stopping them from seeing or acknowledging the bigger picture.
Eren’s writing in the Trost arc was kinda the opposite. When he’s swallowed by Santa Titan, he didn’t succumb, he lashed out irrationally, he didn’t even question his existence as a Titan either, if it’s something that helps him fight, so much the better. He didn’t want to deal with his weakness.
His big defining moment in the Trost arc explicit that his main driver was freedom, not hate, but it didn’t present a right path for him to choose later on. It was the path he would keep walking from the beginning until the end, and it’s reflected on him coming to understand his enemies and not hating them any longer, but still choosing war all the same.
MA hit their growth limit with Eren at the center of their lives in the Return to Shiganshina arc. Armin was able to sacrifice his life and his enjoyment from his dream, but entrusts this dream to Eren, who gives meaning to it. Mikasa lets go of her second most precious family member and puts humanity before him. While still trying not to abandon Eren until the very end, the final arc forces MA to actively choose to let go of him, unlike Trost arc that took him away from them, while Eren doubles down and refuses to let go of his past, his family and his freedom.
“They were just there wherever I looked from the day I was born. Those miserable walls.”
I think this is the most important line we need for understanding Eren. From the moment he was born Eren felt caged no matter what he did and he longed for release.
This desire was unconscious at first, but seeing Armin dream so passionately brought about the realization that Armin was seeing and believing in something that Eren couldn’t, and this brings about the realization in him that he’s restrained/caged from doing something.
He initially believes that this indignation from a sense of being caged is because of the Titans or oppressors but as time goes on and the circumstances change, Eren realises that this is something internal and the fact that it’s something that no one else experiences is one of the sources of his tragedy: he can’t communicate/share this desire.
(There’s probably some symbolism in the fact that Eren confessed his truest desires to a child that didn’t speak the same language)
At first, Eren associated release with the “sight” of the things in Armin’s book. He believed that seeing those things will give him the release and liberty he’s been longing for, though it should be noted that Eren says he doesn’t care what the particular sights *are* just that he sees them so I think he cares much more about the feeling of liberation that those things stand for than the sights themselves.
So I think that even though Eren might say that he’s disappointed that the world wasn’t what was in Armin’s book I think what he’s really sad about is that he didn’t feel liberated by the world beyond the walls, but because he associated those feelings with the sights in Armin’s book he uses them interchangeably(I think this is supported by the fact that Eren still feels caged and empty when actually seeing those sights in 139).
The reason Eren slaughters humanity beyond the walls is because from his perspective, *they* are walls/barriers obstructing his freedom. “That Scenery” is one of the most important motifs with Eren, it’s the liberty that comes with transcending or breaking a wall, but one of the ironies in 131 is that Eren is deluding himself to think that it’s freedom. Eren’s very nature demands that he cannot see beyond the “walls” and this is testified to by Eren looking unfulfilled immediately after the freedom panel and the fact that he still needs Armin’s approval. Besides Isayama deliberately contrasts Eren and Armin by saying that Armin still believes in a world beyond the walls, with a panel of Eren’s eyes closed.
Eren’s tragedy is that of a man born with the inability to look past the repression of life(or you could say he was born with the ability to see restraints everywhere). I think this solves all the contradictions I thought I saw in Eren’s character and addresses the “Problem of being a Slave” that Isayama once brought up.
Before I go there’s one last thing I have to say about the final chapter and this motif, Eren can’t see the dream Armin enjoys and he can’t see the future that lies ahead, but his love for his friend(s) let’s him transcend that nature by putting his hopes in them at the end. He won’t ever be able to see beyond the walls, that’s just how he is, but he can be at peace with the fact that his friends will.
Edit: I made this post mainly because I was tired of people rooting Eren’s actions in trauma or an ideological mistake or lack of development. Eren has developed enough as a protagonist, especially by chapter 100, his “mistakes” in the Final Arc are a result of his nature, I think that’s what Isayama wanted to convey.
"The ancient dome of heaven sheer was pricked with distant light; A star came shining white and clear, Alone above the night."
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