Zeke and Armin’s conversation was planned since 2011
In 2011, Isayama wrote this on his blog:
http://blog.livedoor.jp/isayamahazime/archives/5193783.html
人が本当にやりたいことっていうのは、お金を稼ぐことだったり
将来役に立つ事だったりといった、生きるのに必要な蓄えを増やす事じゃない
(たぶんそれらは「やらなきゃいけないこと」だから)
人が本当にやりたいことには、意味がないことだったり何の役にもたたないこと、
儲からないし何の見返りもないけど、でもやるんだよと言って飲まず食わず寝ず
誰からも褒められずにやってしまうこと、それが本当にやりたい事だ」と
ただ、生きるのに必要以上にお金を稼ごうとする行為は「やらなきゃいけないこと」ではないので
それは「やりたいこと」かもしれませんね、
必要ないことをやるという行為には、反生物的な美意識を感じます、
それは生命維持や種の繁殖といった全生物に組み込まれた命令に背く行為だからです、
これに逆らうことで自分が有機物で作られた機械ではないことを証明し、
自分の中にある魂というものの存在が確認できるのだと思います、
What humans truly want to do is not increasing one’s savings, things that are essential for life or useful for one’s future (the reason we don’t want to do these things is precisely because they are things we have to do).
What humans truly want to do are meaningless things that aren’t useful at all. Things that aren’t profitable with no reward, but we do them anyway. Not drinking or eating or sleeping. Things we truly want to do, we do without being praised.
However making more money than is necessary to live is not essential for life either, so in a way, it’s also something humans want to do.
When humans do these meaningless things, I feel like it’s a beautiful act of going against our biology. Because it violates our genetic code - the commands built into all living things that order us to survive and propagate. When we fight against it, we’re proving that we’re not just machines built from organic matter. It allows us to see within us the existence of our soul.
—end of translation
This was essentially the meaning of Zeke and Armin’s conversation in 137. Armin agreed with Zeke that life is meaningless and humans are constantly struggling to survive and propagate for no reason. But he reminded him that meaningless moments like running to a tree or playing catch allows us to see the human soul within us - that we’re not just machines mindlessly reproducing.
Isayama has had these beliefs since 2011, finally publishing them 10 years later in ch 137!
“Never let the future disturb you. You will meet it, if you have to, with the same weapons of reason which today arm you against the present.”
— Marcus Aurelius, Meditations
This was great! It was really well written and it really makes me appreciate both relationships more, so thanks. One thing I'd like to add concerning your point on cause and effect is how in chapter 122, Eren eventually sees himself and probably Historia as wellin Ymir and uses that same dialectic to free her. It's really cool how it all comes full circle, Freckles Ymir is guven her name through the legacy of OG Ymir and through the overcoming of her weakness she frees Historia who frees Eren who eventually frees the OG.
It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written a longer post. Recently, I’ve been feeling a bit more inspired, though - and, once again, my thoughts are occupied by my two favorite ships from SnK. Unfortunately, a lot of people seem to think that shipping both is impossible, or that shipping one of them authomatically means that you’re against the other. I think it’s ridiculous - even more, I think that shipping both is quite logical.
Today, I’m going to write about how Yumihisu and Erehisu are, in my opinion, tied to each other. (As always, a short disclaimer: there will be spoilers, and the pictures/gifs used in this post don’t belong to me. Have fun reading!)
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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.
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.
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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.
Ironically, after writing a very long critique of the ending, I believe I have found a way to redeem it. Isayama’s comments on the manga ‘Himeanole’, as well as the analyses put forward by @twilight-paradise88 and @cosmicjoke, led me down a very interesting path of interpretation that makes the ending - thematically, at least - justified.
In the 2017 Bessatsu Shonen interview, Isayama says this about ‘Himeanole’:
Ultimately, I don’t think the series [SNK] passes judgment on what is “right” or “wrong.” For example, when I read Furuya Minoru’s “Himeanole,” I knew society would consider the serial killer in the story unforgivable under social norms. But when I took into account his life and background I still wondered, “If this was his nature, then who is to blame…?” I even thought, “Is it merely coincidence that I wasn’t born as a murderer?”
Does this sound familiar?
Eren, like the protagonist of that manga, is presented as being a certain way since birth. From the Attack Titan’s power to see the future, we know that Eren bringing about the Rumbling was an inevitability.
The kernel of this idea is preserved in the ending. Although Eren’s motivations become more complex, the core of his being still compels him towards that act of destruction. He cannot understand it, because it is not a logical demand. It is simply the nature of who he is.
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In my end is my beginning.
T.S. Eliot, from Four Quartets; East Coker. (via xshayarsha)
The world of AoT is entrapped within a vicious, bloody conflict. What began as a violence committed by monster with no reason behind it, has been revealed to be something much more complex and difficult. The world and its characters have been imprisoned inside a cycle of hate. This hate generates revenge and thus by the attacked person striking back, the cycle is continued into the end of eternity. The origin point of this hate that generates revenge, can be found from a bloodstained history. What makes this especially dangerous is that within this context, hate has a wide range. A painful memory or an event can be from something that happened 3 years ago, or a terrifying time period, which occurred during an almost mythological past. People draw from this past and thus are unable, or simply unwilling to forgive and look ahead.
What can the characters then do? Are they forever trapped within this bloody cycle, or is there a way for them to break free? The series presents two solutions to this problem, one shown by Eren and one shown by the Allied forces of the Survey Corps and Marley. In this post I`d like to inspect these two methods and ponder what they mean. Eren`s solution could be viewed as destruction, and the Allied forces method is change. I will start by focusing on Eren`s solution as the first section, and then in the second section inspecting the one proposed by the Allied forces.
Two quick side notes are in order before we dive into the heart of the analysis. I am aware that the manga has concluded, but I am still behind two volumes/9 chapters. I do not know how the story ends. This post has been made with the information, that has been revealed up to chapter 130/volume 32. I would also like to thank @aspoonofsugar for giving me feedback and helping with the post!
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"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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