RRV: Kōkyōshihen Eureka Seven 19-22

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Eureka Seven in its full glory. Everything has finally gone to hell.

It was hard, really hard, to skip RRV last week because everything leading up to episode 26 is essentially my favorite portion of an anime I've seen over thirty times. There isn't enough praise I can lavish on these episodes and I'm sure I'd run out of words in the English (and possibly Spanish) language if I tried. Case in point, this stuff is amazing, and equally amazing is the fact that it's just as riveting and emotional to watch 34 times later.

Right where we left off last time, Eureka and Renton have reached an impasse and thrown away the small progress they'd made during "Sky Rock Gate". Britanni's betrayal has done more damage on Renton than anyone in Gekkostate really understands; Adroc is very much on Renton's mind after watching Britanni give up his dream in the name of a child he abandoned. As a child without a father, Renton can't bring himself to see why anyone would do something so extreme for the sake of their son when Britanni was absent from that child's life for fourteen years. It simply doesn't make sense to Renton; if Britanni cared so much, why abandon his child in the first place? Or, if he was willing to abandon his son for the sake of his dream, what's the point in only caring now? For that matter, for what purpose did Adroc bring Renton and his sister to the world, if he abandoned them for the sake of his work? Unfortunately, the fact that no one seems to understand the turmoil in Renton's heart is crystal clear to him. "Acperience 2" starts off here, with Renton angrily lamenting the lack of empathy from Gekkostate toward his pain. He's even angry at Eureka, whom he sees as almost ungrateful and callous, because, after all, everything he's done is for her sake, hasn't it? Yet she's been nothing but surly and self-absorbed in his eyes, when he's the one suffering.

Of course, this only goes to show just how immature and self-absorbed Renton really is. That small step toward wanting to understand Eureka has been utterly forgotten in the throes of teenage angst, and all of a sudden the fact that the world isn't revolving around him, that Gekkostate is in danger and has no time to deal with his depression and that Eureka has feelings too only serves to deepen his resentment. It's with a deadened heart that Talho and the others force him back onto the Gekko to linger again on his hurt feelings.

Meanwhile, Eureka is just as listless as Renton. Not only is she feeling worse physically, but Renton's refusal to hear her out when she'd finally tried to communicate has destroyed the little trust she'd built up in him. She's lost in more ways than one, and her lack of contact with the Nirvash is eating away at her mental health. Everyone seems to be avoiding her, and now that the Nirvash has abandoned her and Renton has spurned her, she's terrified to think that even the children might be leaving her side. When it seems that even they've "come to hate" her, she can't take it anymore; she has to act.

It's a little more difficult to understand why Eureka is so upset by the Nirvash and Renton than it is to understand Renton's feelings, but it's important to remember that Eureka is as attached to the Nirvash as she is detached from everyone else. Her sole healthy social relationship was with her machine and she never managed to connect with anyone else in Gekkostate to the level that she did with the Nirvash. Even the children, with whom she should have had a wholesome relationship, are a painful reminder of her sins and of the blood she carries on her hands, and on top of that pain she's always haunted by the idea that she may not be doing her utmost to become a true mother to them. She's ostracized by her guilt and inability to communicate properly, and when she first meets Renton, it's like nothing she's ever known before. While Holland and the others have always prized her for her skills and inherent "otherness", Renton saw past that to the girl underneath it all and tried to catch her attention. In a way, he really was like her child, except that unlike her own children, who demand her to be a perfect replacement mother beneath their affection, Renton just wanted the real Eureka to notice him. Of course, while what Renton considered the "real" Eureka was actually his ideal of her, for Eureka herself this is as close as anyone ever got to truly wanting to understand her. Renton managed to reach into her shell and begin to help her out, but before she could let him try, he discovered his affinity with the Nirvash and it drew everything to a screeching halt. To Eureka, it almost seemed like Renton found in the Nirvash what it was that he was looking for in her, and even worse, the Nirvash seemed to have decided that she was no longer needed. Her sole anchor to emotional sanity was yanked out from beneath her and she was left all alone with a half-changed heart. Ignorance was truly bliss for her; her new emotions, half-formed and misunderstood as they are, bring her nothing but pain compared to the relative state of indifference that she had lived in before Renton came into her life, and in her despair she can think of no better way to stop the pain than to attempt to reverse the change.

The symbolic ties between the Amita Drive and Renton himself aren't necessarily subtle. The Drive is the physical representation of Renton's intrusion into the Nirvash, a claim to a machine that, in Eureka's view, wasn't his to claim. Jealous and unbalanced, her removal of the Amita Drive is an attempt to reclaim the Nirvash and reject Renton from her heart. Of course, once you've begun to change, you can never go back, and the Nirvash doesn't condone what Eureka's done in the least.

This is where the Acperience portion of the episode comes in. In the strange and unexplainable weirdness that characterizes this set of episodes, Eureka is driven deep into the mine against her will by the Nirvash and dropped off at a seemingly random stretch of cave wall which, when she touches it, causes her entire body to be encased in Scub Coral. If that's not bizarre enough, the entire experience is accompanied by a dream in which Eureka envisions herself searching through a metaphorical library for a book. "If I don't hurry, the bus will leave. If I stay too long, the sun will set and the dark will frighten me." Her search for the book is the same as the search to understand herself, and that search has only become more frantic and necessary now that she can no longer define herself through her relationship with the Nirvash. In a sense, she's suddenly come to the horrible realization that without the Nirvash at her side, she has no idea who she is, or if she even has a self. "This is what I am, a book without words." More than anyone else, she's aware of just how fragile and empty her existence seems to be and all she can do is utter a mental plea for help as her consciousness slips away.

While Eureka is dealing with all of this, the rest of Gekkostate is in the midst of a siege by the military forces surrounding FAC51. When they discover that the Nirvash is missing, Holland declares that, on the basis that Eureka is too sensible and obedient to leave in a crisis, Renton must be the one piloting and that he's ultimately expendable because his irresponsibility puts them all at risk. Of course, when Holland finds out that Eureka is the one who left, he changes his mind immediately. The relationship between these two is complicated and fraught with problems, and it is also the source of jealousy between several characters, including Renton, Holland, and Talho. For Eureka, Holland is the only other person besides the Nirvash whom she considers trustworthy because of their past together. He's the only one she considers an equal because of the guilt they share and the respect she has for his authority. For Holland, things aren't nearly as clear-cut. Eureka is a symbol of everything he's never been able to do and all the horrible things he has done. Just as Eureka feels guilt at what she did to the children and their families, so Holland feels guilt at having commanded the entire operation and having dragged Eureka into it. He dotes on her, partially because he feels he owes it to her, and partially because she's the one person who never doubts him when he can't even believe in himself. His obsession with her, to Talho's chagrin, is far too close to romantic love for her liking, and Eureka is often the excuse that Holland uses to avoid confronting his demons. When Renton becomes the new object of Eureka's interest, Holland isn't sure what to do about it. At first he's pleased to think that she's found someone to communicate with, but over time his feelings turn to resentment and jealously. Renton isn't special, so why would Eureka be so caught up with him? What does Renton, the silly naive kid, have that he doesn't that makes her open up to the boy in a way she never did with him? Instead of confronting his feelings, Holland takes them out on the object, Renton, and Talho isn't fooled for a moment by his excuses. His outright attempt to abandon Renton in the mine is, as she knows full well, simply another attempt to take the easy way out.

Renton himself is roused from his depression when he and the kids accidentally discover that Eureka's run off. Dropping all pretenses, Renton goes after her on foot and experiences another momentary hallucination before reaching the Scub that she's fused with. While he's clearly horrified and repulsed at seeing what Eureka has become, he nevertheless gathers the last vestiges of his courage to pull her from the wall and get her to safety. It's in moments like this that Renton really shines as a protagonist; all his fears and doubts are still there, but he doesn't hold back when it comes to Eureka. Whatever has happened to her, all he can think about is how best to protect her, even if it means facing his own shortcomings in the process. The helplessness and chaos of the situation enables him to pilot the Nirvash through a Seven Swell Phenomenon completely without Eureka's help, but once the immediate danger is gone, Renton is left with the terrible realization that this is partially his fault. Eureka called out for him and he, in his self-centered angst, ignored her, causing her to be driven even further to her limit. He broke his own vow to protect her by failing to try and understand her, and now she's further beyond his grasp than she has ever been, and he has no clue how to reverse the damage.

Unfortunately for Renton, things have only just started to spiral out of control. Episode 20, "Substance Abuse", only exacerbates the drama between Renton and Holland when the latter, furious at his inability to protect Eureka, takes his frustrations out on Renton and even forbids him from visiting her in the hospital ward. When it seems to Renton like no one takes her condition seriously enough to take her to a doctor, he stands up to Holland, claiming that he'll be the knight Eureka needs and that no one else is trying to be. While this only ends in further abuse at the hands of Holland, Holland himself is deeply affected by Renton's words and his own childishness leaks out as he affirms that he's in the right because he's an adult. His deep-seated jealousy of Renton and his naive chivalry only helps to make his feelings rankle and his insecurities more obvious, while Talho is similarly affected by the way in which both Renton and Holland obsess over Eureka.

The theme of running away is more prominent than ever this episode. Eureka has attempted to run from the change in herself and faced the cruel consequences of doing so, while Holland is bent on escaping the reality that Renton is the one who was able to affect her to this extent. The fact that the boy was in a way responsible even helps rationalize some of his anger toward him. It's much easier for Holland to blame Renton for it all rather than face the truth that it happened because of Eureka's own volition and because of the fact that Renton has become such an important presence in her life. At the same time, Talho is running away from her own jealousy toward Eureka and pushing the responsibility on Holland. Talho never tries to actually hide her feelings about the matter, but she never blames herself for them either. It's always Eureka's fault or Holland's fault and having Renton enter the picture is only more damaging to her self-worth. His devotion to Eureka only serves to annoy her and make her own helplessness painfully obvious. "I could compete with a normal woman, but against the world...", she says, more to herself than anything, and her words betray her own insecurities. The world does indeed seem to revolve around Eureka in ways even Renton doesn't quite understand, and Talho knows it. Everyone who meets her treats her specially, and Talho can't stand that even Holland, her lover, treats Eureka like she's more important than anything else, including herself.

Renton and Holland's confrontation is also notable in that it's a clash between two self-justified individuals. Both feel that they're doing the right thing when it comes to Eureka; while Renton is dead-set on getting her to a hospital, Holland knows that he needs to find a Vodarac priest to help remove the Scub but doesn't say as much to Renton. There's an immaturity present in both their actions and in the fact that Holland thinks he can pull off a dangerous mission like saving the priest without any backup, and Renton is coldly judgmental when he hears that things are going badly. Both are stuck in a mentality where they believe that they are the sole individual that Eureka needs, and the results of those beliefs are disastrous.

When Talho finally spells out what Holland is doing in trying to bring the priest back to the Gekko, the self-justified world Renton thought he was in crashes around his ears. Suddenly he's confronted with the fact that he has no power or basis to back up his talk, and it's all too clear to him that despite his childishness, Holland is out there putting his life on the line solely for Eureka's sake. Renton understood nothing, did nothing, and now he realizes just how little he tried to understand any of them in the first place, including Eureka. It was always about him, about how much pain he was in, how much he proclaimed to be in love with Eureka, how much false pride he accumulated in becoming the pilot of the Nirvash, and how much everyone misunderstood him. In one moment, Renton's whole psychological world is gone and replaced by a stark reality in which he has been the most useless and selfish of all those he has criticized.

It's with these feelings in mind that he comes to Holland's rescue, but the act of violence against the military only serves to rile him up and force him into a frenzied breakdown. His self-hatred is vented in every bit of destruction he sows and his psyche is momentarily driven to insanity as his confused and bitter feelings take over his rationality. Then there's the sense of desensitization that comes from piloting an LFO; just as he never understood what Eureka meant about the murders she committed and how indifferent she was about it until she found the kids, so Renton feels nothing at destroying KLFs.

Until he finds a human arm, wearing a wedding band no less, among the crushed remains of the one he just obliterated.

Renton was already mentally damaged after realizing just how wrong he was about everything, and now that realization has been replaced by an even worse one: not only was he a naive brat who selfishly forced his ideals on others, now he's discovered that he's never been innocent at all but a murderer hiding behind the ideal of Gekkostate. His hands are just as stained with blood as Eureka and Holland's are, and it's only at this moment that the image of Eureka as his angel is completely stripped away, leaving the real girl, the haunted and emotionally unstable woman she really is, behind.

It's apt that the next episode, "Runaway", literally introduces us to the physical representation of this change in Renton's psyche. Eureka is no longer the beautiful girl who always seemed so ethereal to Renton. She's now scarred and damaged on the outside to match the equally chaotic state of her own mind and emotions, and that fact is laid bare to Renton in the aftermath of his own trauma. There is no more illusion, no more running away from the truth, and everything Eureka ever told him about her past echoes faintly in Renton's mind.

However, even Eureka isn't able to help him sort out his feelings. Upon hearing from the priest who cured her that she should be kept away from the cause, Holland immediately assumes that Renton is the problem and forces the entire ship to keep him away from Eureka. Of course, in doing so he conveniently forgets that he is the one with the most responsibility for what's happened; he brought Renton to the Gekko in the first place, and he encouraged Eureka to come in contact with him only to later change his mind and abuse him. Still, Holland won't be budged, and now Renton finds that he really doesn't have any sympathy among the members of Gekkostate. Everyone assumed going in that Renton would understand that what they were doing wasn't a game; LFO's and KLF's are piloted, after all, so when they're destroyed, someone effectively dies. They failed to factor in a child's psychology when Renton joined, and he never bothered to really think it all through past his own angst. Even when Eureka explicitly explained to him about the war they were currently fighting, Renton conveniently went into self-denial and used her pain as a way to avoid the issue.

Brought face to face with the truth he'd been setting aside, Renton sneaks in to see Eureka in the hospital ward, hoping to get the much needed psychological assurances that no one else has been able to give him. He wants to find some justification for the horrible things he's done so callously, and he desperately holds on to the hope that perhaps Eureka can provide that salvation for him. However, meeting her only forces him to admit that not only is he sentenced to carry that burden, but that Eureka never asked for his protection in the first place.

"They're saying that I make you feel sick."

"They might be right. I mean, my heart is beating faster."

To Renton, on the edge of a breakdown, this conversation sounds like a rejection; only made worse by her next words.

"When people break, they can never be fixed."

Not only is this a blunt admission to the fact that Renton has committed murder, to Renton it feels like she's blaming him for her own condition. Even worse, when he tries to plead his case to salvage his own sanity, that he's only done it all for her and that he simply wanted to protect her, she physically turns away from him, cementing his fear that she wants nothing to do with him after all.

What makes this portion of the story so poignant is that this is no longer simply Renton's narrative. Eureka has come into her own as a parallel character to his development, and for her the above scene plays out very differently.

The last thing she remembers upon waking up is that Renton is the one who came for her when she was covered in Scub, and more than anything, that fact has catalyzed the feelings she's been holding back. Renton is the one who pulled her from the darkness of the metaphorical library and now she's realized that she wanted it to be him. However, she lacks the capacity to really understand all these new feelings, and when her heartbeat races at seeing him, she can only assume it means that something is wrong with her. She's also a little surprised that Renton would only now realize what it is that Gekkostate has been doing, and her statement about people breaking is just her assertion of the way she's always seen the same issue; there's simply nothing one can do to give back the lives they take so the only thing to do is live with that burden. Her physical rejection of him too has nothing to do with his actual words; she's simply overwhelmed by her emotions when he comes too close to her. It's an unfortunate misunderstanding that arises because, once again, both sides have become too focused on their own needs to see the bigger picture.

Because of this exchange, Renton is horrified to think that he selfishly pushed his feelings onto a girl who in all likelihood hates him, and if she does, he's had no reason at all to fight in the first place. Thus he comes to the conclusion that if he can't run away from his pain within Gekkostate, he'll run away from the ship itself.

It's in this context that Renton meets the immensely important Ray and Charles Beams in "Crackpot", a married mercenary couple whom are hired by Dewey, the military mastermind behind Anemone and the mysterious "Ageha Plan", to go after Gekkostate. One of the most important themes in the series centers on the different kinds of relationships between lovers. Each couple depicted, even the minor ones, more or less represents a different level of intimacy or conflict, and while Holland and Talho are deeply divided over Eureka, Ray and Charles are all the more devoted to one another. Their effect on Renton, when they meet him, is perhaps the single most influential encounter of the series.

The first thing Renton realizes after leaving the Gekko is that physically running away does little to heal the trauma he's suffered. He's lonely, he's lost, and all he has are bittersweet memories to dwell on. When he accidentally comes upon a rave, he meets Charles and Ray, who, after saving his life during a tectonic shift, invite him to stay with them on their own ship, the Hakuchou-go. This kindness has a profound effect on Renton, who has never known a mother or father's love before. After all the abuse suffered on the Gekko, living on the Hakuchou with Charles and Ray is like paradise for him, and it finally allows him some of the peace of mind he was desperately searching for. It's his first true family experience and Charles especially has much to teach Renton about the way people live their lives. He stresses the importance of doing what you want because you want it and not because others approve of it, something that Renton never quite managed to do before. He was always trying (and failing) to please others, be it Holland, Eureka, the adults in his life back home, or the people who he wanted to see him as cool. He also offers Renton a different perspective on war and conflict; while Matthieu had tried to explain it in terms of "getting them before they get us", Charles points out that everyone has a reason to fight and that conflict is never as one-sided as it feels. Renton had never stopped to think of it this way, and it does him some psychological good to do so.

In the meantime Eureka has finally begun to get out of bed, and her emotions have stabilized somewhat. While she does ask about Renton once, she is able to take visitors and talk to them normally. Interestingly enough, this is how she makes her first flesh and blood friend; Gidget, who is no longer intimidated by her cool demeanor, seeks her out in an attempt to create a female friendship like the one she envies between Hilda and Talho. What's interesting is that Eureka's experience has humanized her in Gidget's eyes rather than scared her away; now that she's capable of emotions that Gidget can actually understand, such as her burgeoning feelings for Renton, she's become far more approachable as an individual. It's Gidget who first gives a name to Eureka's feelings, in fact: love. The only problem is that, ironically, just when Eureka has finally begun to reciprocate Renton's affections, he's left the Gekko, and everyone on board is too scared to break the news to her.

Quick Thoughts

-Gah, the angst; I love it!

-Two of my favorite scenes in the series occur in this set of episodes. The first is the library metaphor: I have always been caught up with understanding myself and there was a time in my life when I was just like Eureka. We're all blank books until we start to fill them in and read them. The other is the scene in the hospital, when Eureka says that humans can't be fixed. That's just such a cold line, but it's full of so much deadened emotion.

-The duality between Eureka and Renton is really apparent from this point on. Everything one does is mirrored in some way by what the other does, and occasionally that verges on heartbreaking to watch. But we're not quite there yet.

-The irony! If Renton had just stuck around a little longer...

-Holland is an asshole, but Talho is a bitch too. They have their own growing up to do.

-Wow. I outdid myself this time; this is a good deal longer than last RRV.

-Next post will cover the final four episodes of the season and thus conclude the character building arc of the series.