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Column by
Scott Green
Hiroki Endo’s Eden is a demonstration of what science fiction can offer when thoughtfully engaging the world rather than just offering tired parables. Though Eden takes place in a post-pandemic world, in which the genetic engineering, artificial intelligence and material science are advanced of their current states, the speculative aspects of the work are often more of a social nature. Given that is inventing within the real complexity of not just science, but politics and religion, the reader is given the space and evident to fully explore problems and the themes introduced by the work.
Reviews of the series first and second volumes can be found in the AICN Anime archives, but with volume 5 scheduled for a November 1, 2006 release, here is a look at the third and fourth volumes, as well as a conversation with one of the people responsible for bring the title to North American audiences.
Eden: It's An Endless World
Volumes 3 and 4
By Hiroki Endo
Released by Dark Manga
We're more likely to discuss The Matrix and not The Cave, Da Vinci Code and not Foucault's Pendulum. Despite aspiration towards philosophical interest, running and shooting is a more guaranteed vehicle for grabbing attention. This drives at the complicated case for Eden. A substantial portion of the first volume of the work is dominantly plague survivors processing their experience through a discussion of morality and metaphysics. The conclusion of that volume recasts the world picture, and propels the series into a gritty survival guerilla war tale with a reduced flow of philosophical discussion. More on the evolution of the series as an action work later, and it is superlative in that regard, but would the series still be running after more than 8 years and 15 volumes in the popular anthology Afternoon had it remained talkative and meditative? Probably, had it been more talk than action, it would not have received attention in North America. And it probably would not have grabbed and held many readers, even those with a sense of philosophical fascination.
Narrative is no doubt essential for finding an audience. If the fascination with it isn't part of the human condition, it's at least a pervasive addiction. Discussing ideas in fields like science, it may serve to both find an audience, and weaken the argument for the presented ideas.
The proximity and constant presence of mortal danger is a key aspect of the series. It is the stimuli being processed that drives the characters', but in the opening chapters and in flashbacks, plague is the stimulus. The question comes up as to whether the same ideas were reachable without the violence and whether the violence enhances, detracts from or confuses what the manga is examining.
How much the violence is a function of what an Afternoon manga series needs to succeed? How much is the violence is the impetus for the ideas Endo wanted to explore? Or , a third route, was it a case where the ideas inspired by the violence were a commentary on formula an Afternoon manga needs to succeed?
Manga fortunately affords this ambiguity. The room exists not only to raise relevant topics, but to address them. Where lamentably few anime are able to escapes fads like moe, and the need to support supplementary financial streams (merchandise), and fewer still approach mature significance beyond a symbolic level; a manga work like Eden which might be a violent metaphysical discourse or it might be a discourse on the metaphysics of violence, but enough material exists for provides the grounds for debate. It is is able to run for volumes without being a shonen formula exercise, which gives it space to build depth for an exploration of these beyond their introduction.
The central idea of Eden is examination of the largely species self-created woes of humanity through the lens of Gnosticism. The connection between the depicted events and Gnostic ideas would not have been completely evident had not Endo filled the series with markers, especially in the character names: genetically engineer soldiers called Aoens, an early protagonist named Ennoea, and woman in a young cybernetic body named Sophia.
In discussing religion, it tends to be easier to use stereotyped perceptions of the followers than the tenants of the faith itself. The latter being far more complex. Given the scarcity of practicing Gnostics, that shortcut is unavailable here, making Gnosticism even more difficult to describe without risking mischaracterization. It's probably best to tie Eden with the early Common Era Gnosticism, informed by classical philosophy, in which matter was formed by the Demiurge in corruption or failed attempt to recreate an ideal. Beyond that, the levels and systems of belief are almost beyond the scope of the manga. Appling a specific label to the system doesn't seem appropriate. There's not evident that is the work is informed by Manichaeism for example.
The approach to Gnosticsm appears to be metaphoric rather than literal. At a point in the second volume, stricken by the senselessly brutal conflict that he had become attached to, the protagonist looks at the prevalence of death and almost hopeless fragility of life and remarks that as a spark of something greater, life is worth clinging to. The progression presented is not so much release from the material as reconciling with it.
The fourth volume introduces the corruption of life as a human caused phenomenon. A detailed cellular level explanation is given for the creation of the Aoens. The vicious drones with tortured biomechanical bodies were created by genetically engineered virus caused mutation. In this case, the Demiurge was played by human scientists who were seeking the specific corruption of the human organism to achieve economic and military ends.
As an organism, there are biological level needs for survival, and Eden makes an attempt to reconcile the morality and sinfulness of this activity. This might include interpreting species threatening action, like the initial pandemic, but also what happens when you kill a bird to eat, and find that you've left its chicks without a the protection of their parent. Beyond that, there is survival in an activity judged to immortal, e.g. prostitution. Beyond that, there is survival and thriving through an activity that harms other, e.g. commerce in narcotics.
The thrust of violence in the series concerns itself with what could be called the next level of mortal conflict, how human inventions complicate survival. These are the ethnic, political, economic and religious divisions. This is what would cause a platoon to force a child to walk through a mine field. It's what launches military campaigns in invasions, but it's also the same facility that allows one to die for an ideal like freedom, show mercy or risk oneself for someone who doesn't share the same genes.
Despite the pain and horror throughout the work, the title isn't strictly ironic. The harsh world presented is not ideal or anti-ideal. There are moments when isolation or near isolation even on a smelly, polluted beach, allow a degree of spiritual freedom.
It's not so much hell is other people, but that the artifacts of humanity are a distraction, sometimes a lethal distraction from the larger questions. Yet, the manga raises whether disconnected form the world, the larger questions will come up. In a side story, set peaceful in orchard/garden, attached to the plague only in memory, a girl named Mana, ignores the idea of making jam by plucking a fig (er... Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil here) prematurely on impulse, soon receiving the admonition "your belly will burst if you eat too much".
Volume four of the manga clearly transitions out of a phase. The protagonist has left his sheltered childhood and he's been baptized by the world's conflicts. A little ufo-alien doll, a marker from the time when there was the resources and space for kitsch, that he had buried with the body of man he for whom had pitied, has been exhumed and passed on. Where his involvements with these conflicts will take him next is literally up in the air.
The progression appears to be almost consciously un-hero's journey. Perspective mentors are too entrenched fulfilling their own missions. Despite advanced artificial intelligence, the sidekick has shown the failing of machinery. The father is both known and unknown. He's involved with the central conflict on some level, but his location and agenda are both hidden. Answers and the path to answers aren't waiting along a guided direction. There's the sense that ultimate, the protagonist will need to creation his own explanations.
The fourth volume features the back-story and exploits of Kenji, a Japanese sociopath who is part of the cell the protagonist becomes associated with. Kenji is incapable of expressing or releasing himself except through killing, which he does in a brutal, knife wielding fashion. Much of this is for effect rather than realism: rushing forward, throwing a knife into the barrel of a pistol as it is being drawn, ambushing and through acrobat leaps and dodges, killing 5 men automatic weapon armed in tactical armor. Were it not for a later fight that looks real, it would be possible to say this is difference between looking good and looking real.
Endo's depiction of action is carried by a precise thoughtfulness. No element seems haphazardly imposed. Weight, momentum and physical strain,
detail, dents in armor, shells casing, people moving with ammunition all factor into the depiction. This apparent planning allows for complexity in the progression of a conflict and in the depiction of a scene. It is exact enough that he is able to intersperse transition from fight to flashback without losing the pacing on either.
Endo's style crowds the panel with element, speed lines, surroundings, figures. This results in the kind of overload you get with fast cut movies, except nothing is really obscured. It's immersion into the violence can create an experience like that of Saving Private Ryan, but Endo also know to break from the rapid spead-line filled panels for paused moments of tension. Because everything is catpured in the comic's panel, its too much information rather than too little, a sort of confusion of the spectator rather than the participant.
On just a martial arts level, Kenji's 25 page duel with a Japanese officer is one of the most amazing you'll find in manga. Or any fictional media for that matter. It's evident that Endo applied some real knowledge of unarmed fighting. Rarely has choreography been applied to a chain of functional holds with results that are this energized. The attach, take down, then gambit of hold escapes and strikes is sure to thrill any action fan, and REALLY thrill any MMA fan.
Which isn't to say that the action in Eden is a diversion. That fight in particular has an edge of action for action's sake, though the length and brutality are significant for story purposes. More often, whether it is a nameless, helmet obscured taking a snipe shot tot he head, or known face being wounded/killed the manga conveys death as an ugly specter. Not everyone is mourned, but there is always loss. Frequently the deaths are not clean, and the demolition of human form is both viscerally stomach turning and morally chilling. The manga'a depiction of gunfire and landmines leave an impression that will not be quick to fade.
Philip Simon, the editor for Dark Horse's release of Eden: It's an Endless World has been gracious enough to provide a look into the process for releasing what must be a particularly challenging manga title.
Scott Green: Could you explain the role of an editor in the publication of a
localized manga? How would you characterize your interaction with the
manga's creator its translator and its letterer? What aspects of the
release are your responsibility?
Philip Simon: An editor's duties can differ immensely from book to book, company
to company, and even editor to editor - and some editors have
assistants who share the workload. You can probably take a guess at
some of an editor's responsibilities, like proofreading, copywriting,
rewriting scripts . . . but there's much more. Dark Horse editors also
act as focal points for problem solving and as conduits for
information throughout all of Dark Horse's departments. We're colorful
project managers, spearheading a team, striving to make the best books
possible, and vying to get the good word out to the public. Whether
it's a manga series or a creator-owned monthly or a custom comic for a
baseball team, an editor is a part of the project from start to
finish. With most manga series, "start" would mean finding a title
that we'd like to publish and negotiating licensing and contract
specifics, which our Director of Asian Licensing, Michael Gombos, is
in charge of. Editors can certainly chime in with suggestions,
questions, and concerns early on in these negotiations. Some of a
manga editor's responsibilities include shepherding in materials for
our letterers, designers, and pre-press staff, knowing what to ask for
in order to get the best print reproduction possible, hiring the team
that translates and letters the book, and getting all the paperwork
rolling to set aside the budget that gets everyone paid. So . . . a
project gets going . . . all the paperwork's in and signed . . . I let
the translator and letterer simmer and cook . . . and before I can say
"Sivasubramanian," I'm busy proofreading lettered story pages and
planning out the rest of the book with David Nestelle, Eden's
designer. I have the most fun, as an editor, fine-tuning and
formatting scripts, proofreading English-lettered pages, writing ad
copy and book copy, and communicating with those closest to the
project - the translator, letterer, and designer. After the book's
proofread many times (at least once by our in-house proofreader Rachel
Miller), someone in our pre-press department (usually my pal Rich
Powers) finalizes every part of the book digitally before it's sent
off to our printer.
BUT, as you know, it all REALLY starts with the creator and his or her
story, its serialization in a Japanese anthology, and its subsequent
life in tankobon form (what we call a trade collection or graphic
novel in American comics). In our constant search for new titles,
we'll go through tankobon samples that we've received from Japanese
publishers, we'll watch for new titles in monthly Japanese
anthologies, and we'll ask our Director of Asian Licensing, Mr.
Gombos, to make some calls and hunt down projects for us. Or Mr.
Gombos, who reads and speaks Japanese effortlessly, will bring in a
series that he's read and enjoyed in its original form. Sometimes
word-of-mouth and online "fan buzz" will lead us to a title. We get
great suggestions from Dark Horse fans who write to us or leave
message board comments, from convention meetings and panels, and from
other Dark Horse staffers, who work outside of editorial but are
ravenous manga and anime fans. Our publisher, Mike Richardson, may
bring in a creator or a series that he's passionate about. Or it might
begin with a creator approaching us directly, as was the case with
Seiho Takizawa's Who Fighter collection. Mr. Takizawa's sister, also
his agent, approached Michael Gombos at a convention. Mike Richardson
was already a fan of Takizawa's war-themed manga volumes . . . and
that was that. Mr. Gombos secured a contract, I requested materials,
checked digital files against the Who Fighter tankobon, asked for more
art files, and then got everything else we needed - INCLUDING the
original painted cover - yes, the original piece of art mailed to Dark
Horse from Takizawa himself. Having the original cover art in-house
will allow us to print the most faithful cover reproduction possible.
Color reproduction is another thing that an editor thinks about, and
it's something that a co-worker in our production department helps
with. In Eden's case, my guru in production is the ever-patient,
unsung hero Ryan Hill (who just got sung). Ryan does any last-minute
retouch work and lettering corrections that may be needed before the
book is sent to pre-press for Rich's powerful finalization of files.
I've been incredibly lucky with Eden, on many accounts. When we
requested our materials for translation and reproduction, a wonderful
package from Japan arrived, and I immediately had quality digital
files for Eden volumes one through ten on CDs. Kodansha sent over
tankobon for volumes one through ten (4 copies each - for the
translator, letterer, editor, and design/production staff), along with
superb digital files for practically every single page of each volume.
An editor can take hold of numerous "behind the scenes" roles, and one
small roll that I enjoyed at the start of this series - after those
quality digital files arrived - was to open every one and check the
files against the tankobon, to make sure every digital page was there.
I also took note of what color files and spot art pieces we'd have to
work with throughout the first ten volumes, and I labeled the CDs in
English. I eyeballed the tankobon in amazement over the next week or
so. Paging through each book, I was already proud of the fact that I'd
be a part of the team that'd be producing this series in English - and
entirely uncensored.
Two other accounts of a lucky editor: Steve Dutro, letterer, and Kumar
Sivasubramanian, translator, because they were my first choices to
work with and they were both stoked to work on Eden. As far as the
communication question (that Scott asked so long ago), these gentlemen
could not be any easier to work with. Kumar turns in amazing scripts,
way early and crazy researched. Plenty of notes . . . he'll explain
every cultural, historical, and religious reference. Kumar lives in
Australia, but sometimes we'll time things just right and email
back-and-forth, discussing the volume we're developing and Hiroki
Endo's Eden saga in general. And now - Hiroki Endo's Tanpenshu. Kumar
and I are working on a handful of entirely different books . . . with
Kumar translating Hiroki Endo's Eden series and the two-volume
Tanpenshu anthologies, Toru Yamazaki's Octopus Girl gore-fest, and
Hiroaki Samura's Ohikkoshi collection. I'm working with Steve as he
letters Eden, Tanpenshu, Banya: The Explosive Delivery Man, Shaman
Warrior, and Who Fighter. I feel that Kumar and Steve make a great
"one-two punch" team, because they're either way early or right on
time with quality work and they communicate well. I enjoy bringing
Endo's harrowing, deep world to new readers. My interactions with
Kodansha have been great, and I truly believe that our translator and
letterer are the best possible fits for this series. The only thing
I'd ask for would be to be able to talk with Mr. Endo one-to-one. You
know, to be able to just call him up and say, "Okay, turn to page 129
and explain something to me, please." Maybe he knows English and will
call me up when he reads this. Maybe by the time I finish this
interview he'll know English. I'll try to keep my answers shorter from
here on out.
SG: When localizing a work like Eden that features a cast with
distinctively diverse nationalities and backgrounds, what decisions go
into giving the characters their voices? What decisions are made in
terms of colloquialism, contractions, and vocabulary?
PS: Character-specific questions and decisions on style will begin to
take form in Kumar's translation process. When this English-language
project began, Kumar read through Eden volumes one through six to
prepare for his translation work on volume one. He really does a lot
of research and advance reading, and he does both online research and
old-fashioned library research. I believe he's read all of the Eden
volumes that exist now. If anything culturally, politically, or
religiously significant comes up in a script, I'll either get an
enthusiastic email while Kumar's translating the volume or I'll read a
long note in his translator's script (which may prompt a discussion
between us). And I do like using notes in our volumes whenever
possible, both to flesh out Hiroki Endo's world and to explain certain
meanings behind names and scientific expressions and such. But when
you ask about "decisions" . . . for the most part, Kumar and I let Mr.
Endo's original work make all of the decisions for us. With Kumar
reading far ahead, he's aware of certain consistencies and verbal
mannerisms that need to be present from start to finish . . . or from
a character's first appearance to horrible (and hopefully quick)
death.
SG: When working on a manga and deciding how to present it to a
North American audience, how much attention is paid to the context of
the original anthology in which the manga is published? There have
been cases in which publishers have been had to deal with strong
content that pushed what a given manga typically dealt with, but which
was in keeping with what is typically found in the manga anthology.
Generally the issue has been with manga from seinen anthologies', like
Eden's Afternoon.
PS: My perception of Afternoon: it's an anthology that prides itself
in letting a creator evolve and tell any kind of story he or she wants
to tell. That "evolution" applies to the creator's artistic style as
well as the mood and intensity of the series in progress. I've worked
on . . . let's see . . . eight titles that have originated in or are
still running in Afternoon: Eden, Hiroki Endo's Tanpenshu, Blade of
the Immortal, Seraphic Feather, Shadow Star, Gunsmith Cats, Cannon God
Exaxxion, and Oh My Goddess! I feel that I've seen firsthand the
diversity inherent in Afternoon. That being said, when asked to look
at the "context of the original anthology in which the manga is
published," I'd say that Afternoon has an admirable, wide array of
talent and tales, and it's a magazine that allows creators to grow and
evolve. With any creator in such an exciting position, mature content
may roll up from time to time as their story evolves for years.
Consider the stylistic evolution in Oh My Goddess! and the content
evolution in Shadow Star. Afternoon, like many Japanese anthologies,
would not be afraid of what we'd call "adult content," but of course
Japanese societal boundaries for such exploration in works of manga
and cartoon fiction are not America's boundaries.
SG: In a past review, I compared Eden to the thesis of Karen
Armstrong's "The Great Transformation", which called 900 B.C.E. to 200
B.C.E an Axial Age that gave birth to the major modern religions.
Armstrong suggests that the level of violence at that time reached a
tipping point which directed the great minds to reevaluating their
world view, which lead to religious innovation. Eden paints a
picture of partially depopulated, exceedingly and starkly violent
world and its protagonist engages in a spiritual progressing of the
world around him. In your view, do you find that Endo is linking
violence to metaphysical thought? Or, how much of this is incidental?
Is there a fascination with violence and harsh subversion of action
conceits and metaphysical examination without a direct, specific
relationship between the two? Have you undertaken any topical research
in order to handle the serious religious and technical discussions in
Eden?
PS: I look forward to the connections and theories and essays we'll be
reading as Eden unfolds, either during the series or when it ends . .
. if it does end. When thinking about Eden, as the story progresses
and certain themes circle around, I find myself looking back to
previous volumes for some important keys. I keep in mind obvious
things that Endo has given us - like "It's an Endless World." Endless
ways to ponder a greater being and our afterlife and mankind's
failures. Endless quests for redemption and surprisingly endless
sources of hope. The endless struggle to survive, too, on different
scales. Evolution on a grand scale, with global upheaval. Evolution of
the "self," seen through small, personal moments and gradual shifts in
character. Seeing the variety of cultures, races, and religions
already present in Eden, it seems that Endo's casting his net wide
from the get-go, firing off a complex barrage of information,
symbolism, and global commentary (kinda like the frequent barrages of
violence that titillate us so), and we're really only at the beginning
stage of processing his work.
I also feel that I learn a lot from Endo's "Afterwords," that run in
every book, however non-sequitor they may seem. I think his afterwords
from volumes one and four have enlightened me the most about his work
and where Eden might be headed.
SG: Are there any scenes in Eden that affected you more acutely as
the works editor than they may have if you were just a reader?
PS: I admire (and keep going back to) Hiroki Endo's entire "Twenty
Years Later" chapter (Chapter Two), which culminates with the dead boy
getting buried with that little toy. That's still my favorite chapter,
possibly because of the rawness and sadness of the entire situation.
It's a perfect follow-up to the chapter before it, and I like how it
begins very quietly, with the world empty (or, well, emptier). It's
refreshing to read, at first, after processing the longer,
information-filled first chapter ("Prologue"), and then it gets
grisly. I'm particularly drawn to a brief scene in Eden volume one -
pages 144 to 150 - Elijah's conversation with Cherubim as they bury
the body, and Elijah's gift and sentimentality towards the corpse.
It's such a solid, human moment. A brief moment that - BOOM - comes
back to haunt us at the end of Eden volume four. And without getting
into what I personally think it means or signifies (but I really do
want to hear readers' thoughts), I keep on putting the last page of
Chapter Two ("Twenty Years Later") next to the last page of Chapter
Nineteen ("We're Never Wrong"), where we see Elijah and Kenji
pondering the same thing:
"If I were God . . . "
