Thundercats (1985-1989)

inner cover of the Thundercats complete series DVD set

I watched the original Thundercats series as it first aired, and it was a major part of my childhood—or at least the first season (65 episodes) and the “Thundercats Ho” movie/episodes (introducing Pumyra, Lynx-O, and Bengali) were, because while I watched and rewatched and rewatched those, the episodes that came after kind of fell by the wayside for me, unseen except in fragments. I think what happened is that the first season was in reruns for a long time, and before the new episodes began airing, the show had moved to a time slot earlier than I got home from school and I didn’t bother setting the VCR to record them—and might not have realized there were new episodes until I’d already missed a lot.

I didn’t see the second half of the series until it was released (slowly) on DVD. I recently watched everything again with a complete-series box set of DVDs, making absurdly elaborate commentary notes on nearly every episode.

Here I’m offering my general overview, an examination of the pilot (“Exodus” and “Unholy Alliance”), and in a separate post my own personal recommended episode order for viewing the series. Maybe someday I will also post those episode commentaries, but for now I’ll avoid the temptation.

(I’ve never seen any of the 2011 version of Thundercats, but I just possibly might have bought one or two of the toys when they appeared.)

Idiosyncrasies

Officially, according to the show, people from Thundera are Thunderians. I say and write Thunderan because there’s really no reason at all for that extra i.

I call Willa’s domain the Treetop Queendom, not Kingdom. There are emphatically no men there, that’s rather a defining feature, and Willa is never called a king.

I accept the spelling S-S-Slithe as official based on the packaging of the LJN toys, and yet the toy line also said Ben Gali (two words) and I treat it as a single word, Bengali.

In my comments I don’t italicize the names Feliner or Ratstar out of laziness, even though these are ships and the names really should be in italics.

An Overview

The opening sequence is simply gorgeous animation. This is some of the best animation you could see on U.S. television in the 1980s. It still looks amazing today, jaded as we might be.

Watching the series at other times it bothered me that various Thunderans would not immediately recognize the Sword of Omens and understand Lion-O’s authority because of it; but in fact it is built into the very first episode that the Eye of Thundera is largely a secret, perhaps thought of as a myth, and even the nobles don’t know about it. Jaga has carried the Sword openly in the past, we learn, but apparently without people understanding what it was. The Sword is not a symbol of the ruler of the Thundercats; it is not being passed down to Lion-O from his father. It may be quite rare, or even unique, for the lord of the Thundercats to have it, something called for only by the extreme circumstances they find themselves in.

In many episodes it helps to assume that the Sword not only warns Lion-O when a Thundercat is in trouble but also mystically persuades him of which direction to go, whether he recognizes the location in the vision or not.

The setting is called Third Earth. I have always understood this as meaning a future epoch of the earth’s history—this is the third major stage of the earth’s life. Whether we ourselves are First Earth or Second Earth is unclear. Perhaps the age ending with the extinction of the dinosaurs marked the end of First Earth and we are in Second Earth. If so, the change from Second to Third is not as total or traumatic as the move from First to Second. There has been some continuity from our age to the future time of the Thundercats, such as human beings in Willa’s Treetop Queendom or the Berserkers, along with Mumm-Ra’s pyramid and some other ruins and relics.

It’s possible, though, that “Third” might have nothing to do with time periods or stages; maybe it’s just attached to the name because Earth is the third planet from the sun.

We know the Berbils came from another planet. We assume the Wollos, Bulkans, Trollogs, and other species are native to Third Earth, though it’s not necessarily the case.

It may help to assume that when we see English printed on the screen, this is just a concession of the animation for us the viewers, and the real text is actually some kind of galactic common script, spread far and wide including Thundera, Second Earth, the galactic police force, and any of old earth’s former colonies. The spoken language, too, must be some kind of common speech that even Warrior Maidens and Berbils use (although the Berbils may’ve been on earth long enough to take up the local language).

A few episodes feature nameless hench-Mutants, “extras” doing gruntwork in Castle Plun-Darr or guarding (and inevitably chasing) prisoners. However, it’s fairly clear overall that the intended situation is for S-S-Slithe, Jackalman, and Monkian—at some point joined, inexplicably, by Vultureman and a couple of times bullied by a visiting Ratar-O—to be the only Mutants left active on Third Earth. (My own attempts to explain this discrepancy away are in my comments below on “Unholy Alliance” and “Spaceship Beneath the Sands.”) The beautiful opening at the beginning of every episode shows numerous Mutant foot soldiers, but this represents a scene from the very first episode, before the Mutants’ ship got buried in the sand. Viewers could be misled by this into thinking hench-Mutants were still around, and I strongly suspect that some of the show’s writers were also fooled.

One of the statues in Mumm-Ra’s crypt represents something like a vulture. But whoever drew the main shot of this statue, the image that gets repeated over and over throughout the series, got the foreshortening wrong. Instead of a bird with a beak, it looks like this is some fantasy creature with no mouth and no chin, just a wrinkled neck between eyes and collarbones, and it irks me every time I see it.

In the early episodes Lion-O is sometimes overbearing and pompous and too proud and caught up in the image he thinks “the Lord of the Thundercats” ought to convey—all of which is exactly, precisely how a child in an adult body who’s suddenly been tossed into royal leadership with little preparation and everyone depending on him, plus receiving a set of completely new, unexpected super-Thunderan powers, would behave.

Mumm-Ra is honestly quite scary. Whether mummified or powered up, he is not a tame or amusing character, and the people making the show did not soften him up to make him nonthreatening. (Or if this is the softer version, the original must have been horrifying.)

Exodus

The first two episodes aired originally in a one-hour block; in reruns, this block was split into “Exodus” and “Unholy Alliance.” Together these episodes deliver a lot of the setup of the series (although you need to add on “Berbils” [ep. 3] and “Slaves of Castle Plun-Darr” [ep. 4] to get most of the main pieces in place).

There’s a great deal the first episode doesn’t tell us.

Why does Thundera explode? Was it a geological catastrophe? An accident of Thunderan technology? A deliberate attack by enemies? (Way, way, way down the line the series will address this.)

We don’t know exactly what is going on between the groups, but it’s clear the Thunderans are familiar with the Mutants as a threat, and a frequent one (Panthro: “Always those blasted Mutants!”), although here the Mutants might be no more than opportunistic space pirates. Later in the series we see there must have been some sort of ongoing conflict, because otherwise the Thunderans would not be stealing plans for Plun-Darrian war machines. But how severe is this conflict? (Later events will suggest that the moons of Plun-Darr are within orbital range of Thundera, at least entering that area after the planet’s end. So the Mutants may come from a place fairly close by.)

We also don’t get much explicit information about the group surrounding Lion-O. We get the idea that “Thundercats” are a specialized, elite group among the Thunderan population, and these few on the flagship are called nobles. But we aren’t told more than that.

It’s possible Cheetara, Panthro, and Tygra are the heads of their clans, the highest of the nobility aside from the lord himself. But one would expect the heads of the clans to be older and married and have children—although it’s possible they do have families, placed on other ships to maximize the chance that someone will escape to rebuild. And it may also be that the older, more mature heads have already been killed in a conflict with the Mutants, and these relatively young adults have taken over the leadership of the clans earlier than they normally would, much the way Lion-O does when the planet explodes (with his father apparently on it, as we see later in the series).

But I happen to think that as the episode opens there are living clan heads on other ships, in other places, and this group of Thundercats was selected because they are in their prime and Lion-O will need fit, active, physically strong protectors in the hostile galaxy. It may well be that one, two, or all three are in line to be clan heads in the future, and it was decided to get this group of nobles bonded with Lion-O now in preparation for that future, even if the elders should survive.

That leaves Wilykit and Wilykat, brother and sister, twins. Why choose two children instead of a strapping adult at the peak of her or his physical abilities?

For one thing, they represent a different kind of ability than speed and strength; it is not for nothing that in the future Anointment Trials theirs will be a test of cunning. That too will be needed in the dangerous refugee future. But I rather think this emphasis on cunning and wit and stealth and tricks is found throughout their clan; lacking the speed of cheetah-types or the strength of panther- and tiger-types, their branch of Thunderan people will traditionally rely on less bodily means for defense and offense. (I’m supposing that each clan is made up of Thunderans of a particular cat-type, which is purely speculation.)

Kit and Kat are quite competent and capable, as they prove repeatedly, but they’re not entirely responsible and their judgment is sometimes weak, as they prove repeatedly. Maybe in this case there really is no one else from their clan to send. There may be a head of the clan, however, either too aged to take part in guarding Lion-O or too busy scrambling to meet clan responsibilities shouldered too soon because the previous head was killed. But it shouldn’t be overlooked that they are the same age (so far) as young Lion-O, and a desire to give him someone his own age to relate to might have been a factor.

Both Wilykit and Wilykat are sent, instead of simply one clan member, for several reasons:

  1. They work best as a team.
  2. They are young, and the leaders were concerned one might not be enough, although the pair might do the job of one adult.
  3. They’re facing devastation and extreme loss, and more than any of the adults they are going to need someone close and familiar and offering connection to their old life in order to deal with the emotional toll of what’s ahead. (It also seems that Panthro, Cheetara, and Tygra are already friends and comrades before this mission, which is less likely to be true of the two young Thundercats.)

When the Mutant attack begins, the framing is such that we the audience may not realize the ship being hit is a different one than the main characters are on. I expect this was deliberate.

There is no explanation given for why the Mutants don’t attack the ship again while the Thundercats are in stasis. The reason for S-S-Slithe’s retreat from the Sword chamber is shaky enough that it’s hard to believe they flew away without any effort to track where the Thunderan ship went. It’s true they must have been out of immediate range, or else the Thundercats would not have dared go into stasis. But it’s hard to believe that the Mutants totally lost the ship and it took them that long to find it—unless the Thunderan flagship had some kind or electronic cloaking/stealth/scrambling technology (and they hadn’t employed it in the first place because the lesser convoy ships lacked that technology, so what was the point; or the technology can’t be activated close to a planet; or, since the planet was exploding the Mutants knew the flagship would be leaving and were waiting to spot them visually without sensors).

One explanation is that something hugely important and significant was going on that claimed the Mutants’ attention—something that could not wait. They had a sense of where the Thunderan ship was heading, estimated that the Thundercats would have to go into suspension, and decided they could come back for the Sword later after this huge situation had been dealt with. It didn’t take the Mutants years to find the Thunderan flagship, it took them that long to deal with their own near-hand crisis, then put themselves in stasis and fly out to follow the ship.

The initial episode implies that Lion-O grew to physical adulthood because the suspension capsules allow some aging—which naturally leads to the question of why Wilykit and Wilykat didn’t grow the same way. The traditional answer is that although Lion-O explains it as the natural functioning of suspension capsules, he’s jumping to conclusions and in fact his capsule was malfunctioning slightly due to damage inflicted during the Mutants’ attack on the ship. His capsule allowed a little more aging than it should have, but the other Thundercats’ capsules were apparently in regular working order.

The Unholy Alliance and Spaceship Beneath the Sands

When Mumm-Ra sinks the Mutants’ ship in the sands, we know there were other Mutants on board. Because it’s a spaceship, it’s airtight and has its own oxygen supply, so the burial itself would not have killed anyone. The ship may have had working suspension capsules, but otherwise the crew members would have spent a good bit of time alive down there squabbling over food reserves until either they ran out of water; they killed each other off in fights; or whatever ruined the ship let the sand pour in.

The Mutants’ spaceship was whole when Mumm-Ra sank it. Had it been on the surface, erosion could easily have eaten away the hull, but it was buried and should have been protected. Yet when it reappears in “Spaceship Beneath the Sands” it isn’t whole. Are we to assume the sands shift enough to wear giant holes in the buried ship, or is there some sort of creature down there that eats metal?

Possibly some Mutants actually survived the entire time of the ship’s burial but were too weak to come out when the ship resurfaced. S-S-Slithe and the others—eager to fly out and fight with their newly reclaimed vehicles—just left them there for later and dragged them to Castle Plun-Darr between episodes.

OR

When the ship was buried the Mutant crew decided to go into suspension instead of starving slowly, and when S-S-Slithe, Monkian, and Jackalman entered the wreckage they did see the sleeping Mutants but ignored them for the present. The trio went for a test ride of the vehicles before coming back, waking everyone up, and ordering the newly awakened henchmen to haul all the salvageable equipment to Castle Plun-Darr.

OR

The Mutant troops were in stasis, and the main trio did wake them up right away, then (between onscreen scenes) gave them directions to Castle Plun-Darr and ordered them to move all the usable equipment while they (the three leaders) took off on the vehicles to go attack the Thundercats right away. (This would, if nothing else, keep the Cats busy while all the equipment was being taken to the castle.)

One of these scenarios would account for the presence of Mutant extras in other episodes. And yet different episodes also make clear that the Mutant leaders are alone. So what happened to the nameless troops? Why do they disappear and reappear?

Maybe S-S-Slithe liked to put them in stasis when they weren’t needed, so he wouldn’t have to feed them, but at some point something went wrong and they expired without being woken up.

Maybe some of them were made to serve as crew on the Ratstar and more were killed off each of the many times it crashed. (The ship couldn’t be kept in operation entirely by two or three people on the bridge, right?)

Maybe the show is too kind to show us that any time a hench-Mutant got caught spying on Willa’s Treetop Queendom, the Warrior Maidens did away with him and their numbers gradually dwindled.

Maybe the Mutant trio used the hench-Mutants as messengers to Mumm-Ra when they had something unpleasant to say, and such messengers didn’t come back.

Certainly any dangerous job would be assigned to an underling, and that may have steadily eroded the supply of underlings, who couldn’t be replaced by reinforcements.

Les Miserables (1985 musical)

Every time I listen to the soundtrack of the Les Misérables musical I am reminded why I don’t listen to it more often: it’s emotionally devastating. For every “Master of the House” or “Little People,” there are three other songs ready to grab the organs in your chest and twist.

The story, both novel and musical, is full of loss, heroism, nobility, viciousness, love, sacrifice—over and over, willing sacrifice.

When I listen to songs from Les Misérables, I find the music overlaid with words and images from the original book: a hand outlined in a muzzle flash; a chair moved farther and farther away; a branding iron picked up willingly; a doll as big as a child; a nun who has never told a lie; the fate of a town after its major employer flees; climbing over a garden wall and finding someone you once helped; a foot immovable on a child’s coin; Friends of the A-B-C; a life wrecked because a manager was certain of what a moral man like the mayor would want; the fortune of “Madamoiselle Euphrasie Fauchelevant”; the Thénardiess; calling out “Father!”; émeute.

I love the lyrics “For the wretched of the earth / There is a flame that never dies,” a statement with two meanings that are entirely opposite yet wholly compatible.

It’s a hard thing to hear in a time when terrible things are happening that feel out of our control, and we desperately want to do something to stop them, but a core idea in the Les Misérables musical is that you won’t solve social evils behind the barricades with rifles and revolution but will make more difference by helping the people in front of you.

The way to save the world, says Les Miz, is by doing good for other people around us; it is as simple, and horrendously difficult, as that.

That is not permission to give up trying to change unjust laws and replace unjust structures, but such things are usually determined at levels we can’t directly affect, democracy or not. There’s only so much we can do.

It is just as important to carry out mercy and compassion and forgiveness within the space we occupy every day.

What I’m Up To

These are some of the things keeping me busy these days:

The Work in Progress

Every day I’m drawing more panels for my work in progress, seen sporadically in my “Teaser Fragments” posts. Here’s a couple more glimpses:

drawing of a woman seen from a slight distance as she assembles a floor lamp with a desk on one side of her and a window with blinds pulled up on the other side; a lampshade sits on the floor

Updates to Not a Cat Lady

I’m modifying multiple pages of Not a Cat Lady. Much of the work is mere tweaking and still more polishing, but I’ve also been fixing a number of panels that made me cringe every time I saw them. 

While doing that I’m revising the posts for the entire novella, doing away with the gallery interface and presenting the art pages directly. It’s not something I can do all at once, so the Not a Cat Lady posts will transition gradually.

a drawing of a close-up profile view of a woman, eyes closed, leaning her head back against a tiled wall with steam effects around her
a drawing of a woman in low light seen directly from above as she lies in bed with her eyes wide open; one arm is bent with a hand beside her pillow, and the other arm stretches along her side with the hand on top of the sheet

Movies and TV Shows

My self-indulgent reviews of shows I watch have dragged to a halt because right now I’m working my way through the original Thundercats series (130 episodes), and I can’t resist writing an in-depth commentary on nearly every episode. I’m struggling to figure out how much of that content to post here. I don’t mean for this to become a Thundercats fan site, and I know I’m going off the deep end analyzing it all.

I focus a lot on the “proper” order in which to watch the episodes—neither broadcast order nor production order fully works for season one, even accounting for how multi-part stories were divided—so that brings up the question of how to arrange whatever entries I do post.

At this point I’m still in season two, with about fifty episodes to go, although I might get started posting something even before I’ve finished rewatching everything.

detail of a photo of the inner cover of the Thundercats complete series DVD set, focused on the circular Thundercats symbol

Coping With Urusei Yatsura Movie 4: Lum the Forever (1986)

Trying to Explic the Inexplicable

In honor of the movie’s U.S. blu-ray release on the 28th of June (2022) . . .

The anime series Urusei Yatsura (colloquially translated as something like “Buncha Alien Jerks” or “Those Obnoxious Aliens”), based on the manga by Rumiko Takahashi, has more than its share of weirdness, to put it mildly. Viewers of the show were treated to quite a lot of absurdity, oddness, nonsense, and unfamiliar imagery. Nowadays UY is likely best known through the second movie, Beautiful Dreamer, but probably nothing in the entire animated franchise is more surreal and unreal than the fourth movie, Lum the Forever.

It deals with supernatural themes and mysterious disappearances. It doesn’t explain things that happen. It shows things that don’t seem logical even within the story. Was it badly written? Was it sloppy film-making? Was the director being deliberately incomprehensible to thumb his nose at the world? Did we the viewers simply miss things by not paying attention?

I won’t claim to understand everything about Lum the Forever, but here are some thoughts I wrote down the last time I watched it, a few years back (with a tiny bit added here and there).

• This movie is aimed at people with a passionate knowledge of the regular TV series, made by hardcore fans for hardcore fans. The kind of people who can catch a subtle reference to a single episode that aired three years earlier and say to themselves, “Oh yeah! I remember that!” From Sakura’s yokai friends to the air-breathing capsule to Megane’s armor to the reason Kotatsu-Neko might disappear, there are a host of things new viewers or casual viewers would simply be baffled by. And the movie already has more than enough to be confused by without people asking why on earth Ataru would stuff a pickled plum in Lum’s mouth.

It’s practically a given that a movie based on a TV series will reward (or pander to) the fanbase by throwing in little treats—character cameos, inside jokes, a significant object sitting in the background. What’s different in Lum the Forever is that those insider treats are actually relevant within the plot, and the filmmakers still made no effort to explain them.

• Just before she enters the water in one scene, Lum puts something in her mouth—not a single thing is said about it, but it must be one of the air-breathing tablets shown in the episode where the group visits Mendou’s aquarium and tries to bring the “pool ghoul” back together with his true love. Which explains how Lum can breathe while she’s stuck underwater all that time.

• It’s useful to recall that Kotatsu-Neko is not just a giant cat who drinks tea at a kotatsu, he’s a giant ghost cat who drinks tea at a kotatsu.

• They never do tell us the original ending of the “Legend of the Oni Princess.” This is a significant shortcoming in the film. The movie shows Ataru, Mendou, and Megane going to visit Mendou’s grandfather, but we never actually see him. Surely there was meant to be a scene with the grandfather outlining the whole legend, but it must have been cut, resulting in the absence of a crucial piece of the story. 

Perhaps in the legend the Oni princess gave birth (literally or figuratively) to the next demon-confining tree: one tree dies, but the Oni births the next tree, and thus the evil spirits are controlled once more. It could be that she died and was buried and became the next tree. Did the legend say something about the Oni princess becoming a companion to the area’s guardian spirit and thus placating that spirit? Could it be that the Oni became the wife of the guardian spirit and they were together parents to the new tree?

• The “Battle Champion Mendou” dream is much too long. For this we lost a segment explaining that legend?

• Mendou’s words at the town assembly might lead one to believe that Tomobiki town wants to get rid of Lum, to expel her from itself, because she is a “foreign particle” (like an infection). However, it seems instead that Tomobiki wants Lum as a friend. (Or lover?) Everyone else is essentially part of Tomobiki and only Lum, as something other than Tomobiki, is a suitable companion. (This is the sense behind the answer to Ran’s remark that she’s also an alien: yes, Ran is also foreign to the town, but she’s just not worth talking to.) The question then becomes why Tomobiki would make everyone else forget Lum, but apparently this is a way of making sure Tomobiki can keep Lum to itself (if people in the town missed Lum and felt a longing for her, that might awaken her and pull her away).

• Mendou starts the war with the Mizunikojis believing that if life becomes horrible enough, everyone in Tomobiki will be unified in the single desire to have things go back to the way they used to be. Mendou expects that this will somehow make the consciousness of Tomobiki release them from the dream world they’re trapped in, presumably by waking up that consciousness. Apparently this is what occurs, combined, however, with Ataru waking up Lum through his desire to see her again (Lum and Tomobiki are shaken from their dream communion at the same moment and therefore the “spell” around the town is broken).

• This movie does a poignant job suggesting that everyone would have been better off if Lum had never been around.

A good site for learning more about Urusei Yatsura is http://www.furinkan.com/uy/index.html. (I have no affiliation with them; it’s just an honest recommendation.)

Reflections: Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind (1982–94 Manga)

photo of the box set of the manga Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind by Hayao Miyazaki, showing the front of the outer box, the front of the first hardback volume, one edge of the second hardback volume, and part of the included poster

1. The Lore
Once upon a time, in those dim days before Studio Ghibli and Hayao Miyazaki had worldwide fame and acclaim, Miyazaki wanted to make an anime film about a girl who flew through a poison land on a small vehicle and consorted with giant intelligent arthropods. However, the lofty ones who held the money would not provide him any unless the film were based on a successful manga. Therefore, Miyazaki set to work creating Nausicaa in print.

It was enough; before long, those people who sat on their piles of gold offered him some, and the film was made, and audiences were stunned and delighted.

Yet the manga did not end, and Miyazaki continued on, crafting his non-animated story in long, steady detail and bringing it to another conclusion with rich depth and broad reach.

And those who know the manga are still grateful he did so.

2. The Reading Experience
Miyazaki took the story in different directions in film and manga. The manga isn’t just the movie with extra background filled in; there are significant divergences in the basic plot, though a lot is recognizable from one version to the other.

Color plays an important role in the story (dressed in blue, blue eyes vs. red eyes, even miasma that’s said to be a different color). That’s strange for something published in black and white, with the result that characters must constantly tell us what color something is, but of course it comes from Nausicaa’s origin as an anime proposal.

When it comes to one particular entity, readers may need to be reminded that Nausicaa appeared well before Gainax’s Evangelion. On the other hand, the manga had a long publication run, so I’m not sure whether the chapters with the villains in eyeball masks predate Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water (1990–91), and I don’t remember if they’re in the Nausicaa film.

The most recent publication of Nausicaa in the U.S. is a large-size 2-volume set of hardbacks encased in a sturdy box. One downside to this presentation is that there aren’t many chapter breaks or other clearly defined stopping points, so it’s easy to get sucked in and just keep reading and reading and reading, instead of making time to digest what you’ve already devoured. And there’s a lot that deserves to be thought about along the way.

3. Some Points to Ponder
Nausicaa is pure of heart, but that purity can erupt in ruthless violence when she sees someone threatening others or in recklessness when she thinks someone needs saving; singleness of mind can lead to action without thought of consequences.

Nausicaa inspires fierce love and devotion in the people following her . . . and so does Kushana, one of the main antagonists.

When Nausicaa fights hand-to-hand she has no great upper-body strength, so instead she uses her lightness, throwing aside conventional combat and relying on nimble, agile grace to flash past an opponent’s defenses. There’s an early scene where she uses a sword almost as long as she is tall; instead of wielding it the ordinary way, she swings it like a scythe, then uses it to vault herself in the air. Her body is flexible and so are her methods.

photo of panel from the Nausicaa manga, written and drawn by Hayao Miyazaki, showing Nausicaa charging at an armor-clad soldier; he raises a large ax, while she is holding a long sword with one hand gripping a handle guard and the other hand cupping the pommel; she wears no armor
panels from Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, volume 1, page 59

Nature will find a balance. However, that may take centuries, and there is no reason to expect that human beings will survive in the meantime. In the wake of global near-annihilation, nature is not bent on rescuing a particular species, whether that’s a triceratops or us.

Nausicaa presents war as senseless, brutal, horrible, and tragic. War creates suffering for soldiers and noncombatants and the natural world, and sometimes for the rulers who made the decision to fight.

In the war neither side is right. One side invaded, but the other had already prepared catastrophic biological weapons and was eager to use them, even where that endangered its own people.

Saving one or two lives in the middle of a war where thousands die might seem pointless or futile. But it does matter.

Over and over in Nausicaa someone who seems plainly a villain does something unvillainous, whether it’s a single good deed, being surprisingly brave and willing to listen, or changing completely to follow a different path. (And yet not every villain will change.)

When people tell you you’re going overboard with your idealism, sometimes you should ignore them and march forward on your principles; other times you should listen because you really are going too far. Just because Nausicaa is right to ignore advice sometimes doesn’t mean she’s right every time, and as readers we don’t have to believe that all of her choices are the right ones or even the best available.

Nausicaa is told of another idealist who started out determined to make life better for everyone, but “When the peasants proved to be incorrigibly stupid, he grew to hate them” and went on to do monstrous things. She also learns of a group of people who believed humans would one day be mature enough to act without hatred and cruelty, and so left powerful technology open to abuse by later generations, generations that saw only weaponry and victory over enemies.

Nausicaa avoids becoming like either example. First because people warn her of the danger (or mock her with it), and she doesn’t delude herself that she’s somehow better or purer than those previous people so it won’t happen to her. She remains able to doubt her own perfection. Second because in all of her idealism and faith in the value of humanity and other creatures, in all her burning desire to save everyone and make life good, she won’t hide from the truth that people do horrible things to each other, whether they’re rulers, soldiers, peasants, or priests. She knows this, and wants to save them anyway, not because they’re good and just but simply because they live.

Finding the good in someone does not mean ignoring the bad in that person.

The story, in fact, depicts Nausicaa slowly coming to grips with her own taint of evil. For much of the journey she mentally pictures herself as a child although her body is grown. It takes several times being confronted in one way or another before she can wrestle with the fact that she is not innocent and she too has killed and she too has taken part in destruction.

There’s a scene where someone asks Nausicaa, “Was I a good person?” It’s significant that she doesn’t answer this question directly. Instead she says, “I’m proud of you and you were brave and pure of heart.” Which isn’t quite the same.

It’s a good question whether Nausicaa has the right to take actions that affect the future of all humanity. And yet she’s opposing people who are already taking actions that affect the future of humanity. What right do they have? She’s aware, finally, that she might be wrong and her actions might have bad consequences. She realizes that what she’s doing might be a mistake, and yet allowing things to go on as they have been going is unacceptable.

She calls one of her previous choices a gamble. The action she takes at the end is also a gamble, but she’s not betting on an improvement in human nature, she’s betting on the power of life, the ability of living things to adapt and continue when the world around them changes. Life is determined to live and will find a way no one might foresee.