Foreword
I finished Hibike! Euphonium about 2 weeks ago. It took roughly 2 months total, and in between movies I also read the mainline novels and as many of the short stories as I could. I said then that I would write something up in a blog post. Originally, I wanted to write something spoiler-free that might bring more people to the show. I still want to do that, but for now I've decided to put this up while continuing to rewatch the show and process my feelings. I hope you enjoy.
Introduction
In this essay, I want to trace the story of a non-human character whose fate often lay in the hands of the human characters' actions: the culture of meritocracy born in Kumiko's first year at Kitauji.
I suppose I started thinking about this when pondering the fate of 'Hibike! Euphonium', the piece of music Asuka leaves to Kumiko at the end of her first year, when the third-year students graduate. As she gives Kumiko the notebook, she tells her that it's now her turn to 'let the juniors hear it'. Then Kumiko opens the notebook, notices its title, and thinks:
I'll never forget the sense of warmth that name filled me with.
In S3E6, however, when Mayu comes across her playing 'Hibike! Euphonium' and asks her about the piece and its origin, she responds that it's 'nothing worth sharing'. As Mayu walks closer and continues to inquire about the piece, Kumiko gives vague, non-committal answers. Mayu eventually realises that Kumiko has her walls up, and retreats. It is only in S3E13, after the tumultuous events of the re-audition for the euphonium part in the soli, that Kumiko finally opens up and invites Mayu to play the piece together with her. When her kouhai Kanade asks if she may also play the piece when something's wrong, Kumiko then finally remembers Asuka's words, and thinks:
Sadly, upon Kumiko's return to Kitauji many years later as the new assistant band director, we are not given any sign as to whether the piece was successfully passed down. But even if it failed to survive till her return, it doesn't mean that nothing of significance happened here. Only Kumiko knows the piece as something passed down to her by Asuka Tanaka, first euphonium of the Kitauji concert band of two years prior. It was a material manifestation of her special connection to Asuka. When Kumiko finally agrees to share the piece with Mayu and Kanade, however, she only says that 'a senpai' told her about it, but does not mention the unknown senpai's name. I see this as the piece of music properly exiting its residence in Kumiko's personal history and finding a new one in the history of the Kitauji concert band. Kumiko could have held on to the music possessively, guarding her special connection to Asuka, as she no doubt was unconsciously doing when she felt threatened by Mayu. But then, chances are, the music would have faded into the obscurity of her high school paraphernalia, and nobody else would have gotten to hear it. This moment at least opened the possibility that the piece would be more than a mere blip in the Kitauji concert band's history.
Anyhow, this got me thinking about the other historical accident in the story of Kumiko's three years: the birth of the culture of meritocracy due to Taki-sensei's appointment as band director. With his arrival, the old seniority-based system of assigning parts was abolished in favour of a merit-based system which allowed members of all years to compete for the same parts in auditions. But will meritocracy be fortunate enough to receive the same chance to be passed down through the generations that 'Hibike! Euphonium' did? If so, in what form, and how? This essay is dedicated to trying to answer these questions.
In the rest of this essay I will try to present evidence for the following collection of theses. One overarching theme is that great ideas like meritocracy are both very strong and very weak. They are powerful in their ability to cause upheaval and destabilise existing social structures when they are introduced. But it is people, who through exercises of imagination, kindness, and courage, affect how they are implemented and remembered, and thus whether they are passed down. This discussion will be carried out with a focus on two moves that Kumiko makes during the S3 re-audition between her and Mayu for the euphonium soli at Nationals, with interludes for comparison to other foil events. Accordingly, one move affects the implementation of meritocracy, and the other its legacy. The reason we zoom in here is because this is the moment that meritocracy at Kitauji becomes the best version of itself. Then I will attempt to get into details on the specific form of meritocracy that Kumiko's cohort passes down to their juniors when they graduate.
Kumiko's first move
Ayano Takeda has mentioned before that she typically presents characters in dyads, to bring out their traits by foil. Thus we shouldn't miss the fact that the location of the S3 re-audition is also the concert hall where the culture of meritocracy faced its first serious test all the way back in Kumiko's first year, when Reina and Kaori had their own re-audition for the trumpet solo in 'Crescent Moon Dance'. This places both Kaori and Kumiko in the same role: the incumbent facing a challenge from a newcomer, the challenge raised by the meritocratic principle of selecting the best players. For under the old system before Taki-sensei's arrival, solos were assigned based on seniority, and thus incumbents would take all.
In S1, the band loses their trust in Taki-sensei once they find out that he had been personally acquainted with Reina since before he came to Kitauji. They suspect that he chose her to be trumpet soloist based on personal favour rather than merit. The re-audition is premised on Michie-sensei's hint to Taki-sensei in the printing room:
Music is nice. You can't lie. When something sounds good, there's no denying it.
The logic is simple. The band is unable to take Taki-sensei's word that Reina is the better trumpeter between her and Kaori. So Taki-sensei decides to let the whole band make the comparison themselves and commit themselves to it by a vote, thus reuniting the band in accordance with meritocratic principles. Hence the S1 re-audition.
This did not occur to me when I watched S1, but now that the context is laid out so clearly, it seems extremely strange that despite Taki-sensei being accused of picking Reina on the basis of personal favour, the audition nevertheless allows all to see who is playing. Remember, the suspicion is that because Taki-sensei has known Reina for so long beforehand, personal favour is interfering with his judgments of merit. If it could have been guaranteed somehow that he was 'resistant' to personal favour, then the prior acquaintance would not have posed any problems. Now, we can ask: is Taki-sensei uniquely susceptible to personal favour? If the answer is no, then we should also expect everyone else in the band to favour others proportionally to the amount of time they have known them. It then becomes obvious that the re-audition is stacked against Reina. Aside from Kumiko and Shuuichi, who have known Reina since middle school, the maximum amount of time everyone has known Reina is the minimum amount of time they've known Kaori.
The unbalanced odds aside, the re-audition's success at securing a firm mandate for the soloist - i.e. silencing any doubts that they are deserving - hinges on two things:
- Prior agreement that merit is the sole legitimate basis for assigning the solo.
- The votes cast actually expressing judgments of merit.
If and only if these two conditions are satisfied, does the outcome of the re-audition yield a firm mandate. The first is secured at least nominally. For all that members like Yuuko dislike Reina for her supposed arrogance and love Kaori for her gentle kindness, they still charge Taki-sensei first and foremost with violating the principles of meritocracy. The second condition, however, fails to be satisfied. Because the band members can see who they are voting for, there is an extremely plausible rival explanation besides merit for their choice: personal favour. Most of the band abstains from the vote, remaining silent. Kaori gets a standing ovation from Yuuko, her kouhai known to be unwaveringly devoted to her, and steady applause from Haruka, her close friend. Reina gets a standing ovation from Kumiko, her best and perhaps only friend in the band, and unsteady applause from Hazuki, a member of Kumiko's friend group and thus loosely affiliated with Reina. An impartial observer without the benefit of our view from beyond the fourth wall simply sees four people voting in alignment with what personal favour would dictate, down to the degree of favour.
With no other votes cast, the re-audition, originally intended to grant the soloist a firm mandate based on meritocratic principles, is thus almost a complete failure. At this point, there is much speculation over the extent of control Taki-sensei has over the situation when he offers Kaori the solo. One might think that he knows she will reject the solo after having heard Reina play, and thus offers it to her so that her rejection will eliminate any further basis for challenge. Or, one might think that he is now trapped by the same effects as noted above. The vote is officially a tie, but to offer the solo to Reina again given the suspicion of personal favour would be political suicide. Thus, he is forced to offer it to Kaori. But whatever the truth of the matter, under any interpretation, Kaori is the only person who can save the band from making a decision in keeping with the letter but not the spirit of meritocracy. And so she does. Since everyone here knows how much she wants to play the solo, her rejection of a victory that has already been handed to her perceptibly runs counter to her own interests, and can only be explained by her judgment of her own merit relative to Reina's.
Note further that she doesn't simply say 'I can't', and then let Taki-sensei officiate the handover by offering it to Reina again. If this had happened, there would be room to interpret her concession of the solo as a response to the strange dearth of votes from the rest of the band. And so she could have been seen as submitting to a vote of no confidence. Kaori reveals herself to be a true defender of meritocracy because she says:
I think that Kousaka-san should play the solo.
She throws her own weight behind the concession, so that effectively she is the one offering the solo to Reina. Thus, she herself lays the first foundation stone of Reina's firm mandate to play the trumpet solo for the band.
The S1 re-audition and the events in its vicinity are thus the first occasion where we see the powerlessness of meritocracy to defend itself. Without adequate support, meritocracy can be silenced even when actions are taken in its name.
In S3, the teachers launch the re-audition on their own initiative instead of in reaction to suspicion from the band. It seems they are unable to convince themselves that either Kumiko or Mayu truly deserves the solo over the other on merit alone, and so reason that nobody would accept a verdict backed purely by their judgments of merit convincing either. This is a marked difference from S1, where the teachers were both in agreement that Reina was the superior trumpeter. If it follows from this that merit fails to reliably distinguish Mayu and Kumiko, then the situation in S3 is worse, because the salience of non-merit reasons will be greatly enhanced, polluting the mandate unless something is done. By inspection, we can see that Kumiko's advantage over Mayu in this domain is comparable to Kaori's edge over Reina:
- Like Kaori, Kumiko has been the band's euphonium ace up till that point, at least since Asuka graduated two years ago.
- Like Kaori, Kumiko is trusted by everyone in the band, as they can see her devotion to their wellbeing.
- Like Kaori, this is Kumiko's last chance to perform with the band.
Being a transfer student, Mayu has none of these reasons on her side.
To her credit, Kumiko has learned from the disaster of her first year, and so makes her first move in defense of meritocracy. She requires that the S3 re-auditions be anonymous. Since the band can only hear the sound of their playing, no matter how much any member might hope for either player to get the solo, their votes can express nothing but judgments of merit.
Before moving on, I want to give a shout-out to Kaori for going above and beyond the standard of faultlessness. If she had conceded reluctantly rather than throwing her weight behind Reina's mandate, she could not have been faulted given the stakes for her.
Kaori has been waiting her whole high school life under the old system for the promise of being able to play a solo in her third year to be fulfilled, only to have this promise nullified by the twin historical accidents of Taki-sensei and Reina arriving at Kitauji. The outcome for the band would have in some sense been the same as long as she conceded the solo. But in my eyes, she has the status of a hero for offering the solo to Reina herself, thus also silencing any resentment or indignation on the part of her fans. In a similar vein, despite my analysis implying that Taki-sensei made a mistake, I also don't think he deserves blame for what happened. It seems very reasonable for him to simply do in front of the concert band what he does in private auditions, where both he and Michie know who is playing.
This concludes the first half of our discussion of the S3 re-audition. So far, we have seen the amount of difference a small change to the implementation of meritocratic principles can make. In the next section, we will observe how much it matters how meritocracy is remembered after its appearances on the stage, and also begin to unravel the specific kind of meritocracy that finally makes itself known in S3.
Kumiko's second move
Up to this point in the S3 re-audition, Kumiko has done all she can to clear the way for merit to be the only force deciding who plays the euphonium solo. But to what extent does she really believe in meritocracy? I think that a charitable viewer's interpretation of Kumiko would assign a high prior credence to the hypothesis that she believes in meritocracy. But we must also consider the viewpoint of the in-universe characters if we are to appreciate the scope of her achievement. Thus, notice it is not out of the question that Kumiko cleared the way so thoroughly for meritocracy in order to serve her own ends. The moment it is revealed that their free piece for the competition contains a duet between the euphonium and the trumpet, she and Reina set their sights on playing it together at Nationals. And the best way for her to obtain a firm mandate to play in the soli would be to win the re-audition based on nothing but merit, especially now that the culture of meritocracy has gained more ground in Kitauji than in her first year. The real test for Kumiko and for the culture of meritocracy comes after the verdict is announced. If the verdict goes against her, as it eventually does, will she accept it?
The most important fact to notice here is that there are many ways Kumiko could have responded to the defeat and yet counted as remaining in line with the culture of meritocracy. In particular, when Mayu walked forward to claim her victory, Kumiko could have simply stood there with a sad and resigned smile. Meritocracy is supposed to decide who plays the solo in the end, it doesn't anywhere say that people have to like it. And I think that if this had happened, nobody would or could have blamed Kumiko for reacting that way. She would also have been faultless. After all, Kumiko only lost the re-audition by one vote, and that vote was cast by Reina, her best friend in the band and the person everyone knew she wanted to play the soli with in their last year of high school. But it is not difficult to guess how this counterfactual event would have been remembered.
Kumiko would have been remembered as a tragic hero of a president who submitted to the standard of merit, a rigid, inflexible standard which ultimately betrayed her and crushed her dream over a measly single vote. Mayu would have had to play the solo with a fragile mandate, for the band's reactions in S3 once the players' identities are revealed makes it clear that almost everyone feels torn and sympathetic to Kumiko. For her to win the re-audition based solely on merit is already somewhat pyrrhic, because it only highlights the extent of her social isolation. Indeed, she can only muster a resigned, tearful smile, even in her moment of victory. She anticipates becoming a social pariah yet again for having taken Kumiko's solo from her. And if it ever came to be publicly known that Reina had recognised Kumiko's sound and yet chosen to sacrifice her best friend's dream of playing the soli with her at nationals, she would either have been remembered as cold and uncompromisingly dedicated to winning, or for having had to make an extremely painful sacrifice. Meritocracy, the cause of all this, would have been associated with pain, conflict, and harsh sacrifices.
In turn, this would have made Kumiko's third year the latest entry in the troubled record since meritocracy's introduction. I think Kanade is correct to conjecture in Chikai no finale that the events of the S1 re-audition might have been remembered very differently if Kitauji had not made it past Prefecturals that year. It would have been remembered as the occasion of a beloved senpai getting something that had in some sense been hers all along snatched away by an upstart, in return for no further progress than the band had been achieving thus far. Even though Kitauji manages to avoid this outcome, there are still casualties, like Aoi, who quits the band to everyone's dismay because she is unable to balance college entrance exams and the more gruelling practices. In Kumiko's second year, there is no such overt public drama, but meritocracy is still shown to bring the band members into conflict.
The highly talented among the first-years initially have trouble acknowledging weaker players among the older students as senpai, and with recruitment rising, competition at auditions fiercens. In particular, even the rift between Nozomi and Mizore in the events of Liz And The Blue Bird is also partially caused by disparities in talent between the two of them. Nozomi realises that she cannot keep up with Mizore, and feels envious, which never would have happened without Mizore being pushed to develop as an oboist under the new meritocracy.
The historical record thus presents a Kitauji that seems caught in a dichotomy between merit and warmth. The warm atmosphere of the band is maintained in spite of all the social unrest caused by the introduction of meritocratic principles. In particular, it is possible that a balance was uneasily maintained by all roles being settled by the Prefectural stage of the band competition, with no more auditions and hence no more conflict after. Members could get used to the state of things, and relations had the rest of the year to heal. But in S3, even this last safeguard is removed. Independently of the re-audition, it is probably safe to say that this has been the most stressful year since Kumiko's first. Not only are there more band members than ever, the band has also decided to hold auditions before every single stage of the band competition. Thus, nobody's position is safe, and the warm atmosphere of the band faces disruptions throughout the entire year. A microcosm of all this is standing beside Kumiko on stage now: Mayu.
In my eyes, Mayu's entire character is defined by this hitherto irreconcilable tension between merit and warmth. In the past, Mayu's friend quit music because she was constantly chosen over her friend for competitions. Wherever else she moved, her talent held her back from connecting with people properly because they feared she would take opportunities to shine away from them, even though
I (Mayu) truly, from the bottom of my heart, want to enjoy playing with everyone.
Mayu says this while she and Kumiko have their final conversation before the re-audition. But even in this conversation, it is Kumiko who has to speak up for the side of Mayu's character that takes pride in being a good euphonium player and thus 'can't play crappy on purpose' although she knows it would help her sidestep all the conflict of competition. It is as though Mayu, like the Kitauji concert band, cannot think beyond the dichotomy of merit and warmth, keeping them quarantined in different parts of her. In her words, Mayu expresses a desire for warmth and just wants to get along with everyone, even offering to forfeit the auditions multiple times. But in her actions, i.e. her playing, she still plays to the best of her ability unless commanded to forfeit. She is stuck having to constantly deny one or the other part of herself. Either she must forfeit the audition and deny her pride as a euphonium player, or she must deny her desire to be close to and make memories with everyone. Her personal history bears the same scars that the Kitauji concert band bears, for the same reasons. She is shaking and tearful even after just having won the S3 re-audition because she thinks that this is the familiar old script repeating itself.
At this point, Kumiko makes her second move in defense of the culture of meritocracy born in her first year at Kitauji. She steps forward to stand beside Mayu, and in a resounding voice declares:
This is the best roster for Kitauji. We all chose this team together. No one can deny that those who are playing are our best. Let's go to Nationals! Let's become one, and we'll get gold in the Nationals!
In five sentences, Kumiko completely shifts the mood in the concert hall. She expresses her belief that this is the best roster for Kitauji. She reminds the entire band that this is also their collective will and judgment - grounded in nothing but the sound of the players. She alludes to the dream of getting the gold at Nationals passed down from the Kitauji concert band of two years ago. But the last sentence is the most significant.
In the final sentence of her resounding declaration, Kumiko becomes the first character in the entire show to publicly unite in a single breath a desire for both merit and warmth. Despite having just lost the re-audition to her, Kumiko responds to Mayu's expressed desire to play with everyone, and publicly calls for the band to become one, including Mayu as the euphonium soloist. Whether she is aware of it or not, this is also the line that achieves the final synthesis that has eluded the Kitauji concert band for so long. The final roster of the band at Nationals is not just 'the best' members, but 'our best', which 'we all' chose together. 'We' includes everyone, even the band members who did not make it through the auditions and won't play at all in the competition. But if the band becomes one, then the glory of the final roster members is everyone's glory, and nobody loses by not making it onto the stage. Instead of having their dreams taken away from them, in playing a part in choosing the final roster, they are entrusting them to those who do get to stand on the stage. The same applies to Kumiko, who now, rather than losing her dream of playing in the soli to Mayu, entrusts it to her to carry forward with Reina.
As the band applauds, Kumiko backs up her words with actions and turns to look Mayu in the eye with a smile, symbolically showing that she sees all of her - her talent, her pride, her desire to connect with others, the fact that she will be the one to play in the soli - and still wants to be with her. Mayu’s tears become tears of joy. The cycle has finally been broken.
For as long as the pursuit of merit was seen to be at odds with the warm atmosphere in the band, I am pessimistic that it could have endured for long. Despite the stellar results that Kitauji had achieved over the last two years, the very fact that there was a dichotomy would invite questions about the exchange rate between merit and warmth. I think it plausible that if too much warmth was sacrificed, people would wonder whether even a gold at nationals was worth it. The notion that meritocracy requires harsh sacrifices is something that not even Kaori manages to break free of in her heroic moment during the S1 re-audition. She willingly inflicts the loss of her dream on herself, but it is still a loss. For as long as that is true, meritocracy remains at best instrumental, or a necessary evil.
It is also crucial that this happened on the occasion of the S3 re-audition, right before Nationals. The band also went through a tough time at Kansai regionals, when the band's composition underwent unexpected changes, and Mayu was selected to play the soli over Kumiko for the first time. Kumiko, Reina, and Shuuichi did a lot to restore it through assuming responsibility and communicating clearly to the other members. But for as long as there was still one more chance for these players to make a comeback by playing at Nationals, meritocracy had not yet faced its ultimate test. Under my analysis, not only did it survive its final test, but with Kumiko's words and actions also evolved into a new version of itself that would no longer face the same challenges that its old versions had faced.
Meritocracy with a human face
It is also possible to interpret Kumiko's actions above as sacrificial. Typical accounts focus on the choice she faces between her dream of playing the soli with Reina, and her dream of bringing Kitauji to the gold. One reason why I do not use this interpretation here is that by the time the re-audition is on the cards, it is simply not up to her whether she gets to play the soli or not. Furthermore, even though Kumiko had many prior chances to secure the solo through Mayu's multiple offers to forfeit, I don't see any evidence that she was ever tempted to exercise this option. All this is compatible with her being as upset as she is later at Daikichiyama with Reina. She did really want to play the soli with Reina, after all. But it is sufficient for her achievement if, at that moment on stage when she made that speech, she was able to see herself in some way other than as someone submitting to having something taken away from her.
Neither does my analysis require of Kumiko that she have an extremely sophisticated theory of what meritocracy is. Two years ago, Kumiko outperforms her senpai Natsuki Nakagawa in the auditions, and so Natsuki is sent to the B-division ensemble instead. Having in middle school incurred the wrath of a senpai by taking her place in the competition ensemble, Kumiko is initially worried that history will repeat itself. Instead, Natsuki treats her to a milkshake, thanks her for pushing her to improve, and is the first to leave an encouraging message on her sheet music:
Natsuki shows this kindness to Kumiko in a fast food restaurant, and Natsuki is probably the only person who could have resented Kumiko making it into the auditions instead of her. Thus, the only relationship that has to be affirmed is the one between Natsuki and Kumiko, and the affirming is done in private. Kumiko's actions in S3 for Mayu are simply exactly this but scaled up, and done in public. Knowing what Mayu fears, and what might possibly await Mayu, she affirms her relationship with Mayu with her words and actions, affirming Mayu's relationships with the other band members by proxy. A vague, commonsense notion of meritocracy, her own emotional intelligence, and past experiences of kindness from other individuals are what drove Kumiko's actions here, not a sophisticated theory. She showed rather than told the entire band what meritocracy could be.
What did Kumiko show the band? I saw in Kumiko's actions a beautiful dream - a way for those who lose something to meritocracy to retain their agency, and share in the common glory. The winners and the best are often the main characters in the story of meritocracy. Its material manifestations in events like competitions and auditions are essentially a search for these winners, an attempt to filter them out from among the crowd. Those not selected are often an afterthought. In the worst meritocracies that have become infected with elitism, they are even cast as parasites that benefit from the work of their betters. For those that are identified as good enough are the ones who get to stand on the stage. But the truth is that even with auditions, a band is only able to put up its best performance with everyone's effort. After all, winning an audition only marks you out as a member of the best roster if everyone else who was auditioning was also giving their best. Then even if one's defeat is another's victory, the audition still contributes toward assembling an ensemble that can carry the entire band's dreams onto the stage. Without this crucial condition, winning an audition only satisfies one's personal vanity at the expense of others. The condition being fulfilled is what allows people to say with grace: I cannot stand there, so you stand there for me, and play with all your heart for us! And it allows their friends to accept the task entrusted to them in good faith.
The important point is that most of the foundation for this is laid long before the audition itself. By the time one is standing outside the classroom door, it is already out of your hands whether you will be able to give your best. It takes constant effort. In a meritocracy where it's every man for themselves, one has to bear it all alone up till the audition, and then deal with the aftermath alone. This is incredibly difficult. Indeed, there is no character in the show that achieved their growth into their best selves through their own effort only.
Even Reina, who most starkly personifies the pursuit of personal excellence, wavers in S1 when she is left alone against the wrath of public opinion, until Kumiko affirms that she will 'be a villain' with her. And in S3, she is continuously troubled by the prospect of losing contact with Kumiko in the future. Most of these moments earlier in the series happen where only we, the omniscient viewers, are able to see. But on that stage in S3, Kumiko showed everyone in the band once and for all that Kitauji was a safe space to put in all your effort and grow, just as many others had done for her in the past.
The dream of a society like this is what I call a meritocracy with a human face. In my own words:
A meritocracy with a human face is a society where people are encouraged to grow into the best version of themselves, and where growing into the best version of themselves is regarded as their contribution to the common good.
By the end of S3, meritocracy has formed a harmonious, mutually reinforcing synthesis with the preexisting culture of kindness and senpai-kouhai support at Kitauji. Auditions, the calling card of meritocracy and once a herald of conflict, have become a process through which the band's members entrust their dreams to each other, in order to win a glory that belongs to all of them. In this way, the pursuit of merit strengthens the warm atmosphere in the band that everyone desired. Conversely, it is also due to the love, kindness, and care that the band's members continue to show to each other, that people like Mayu become comfortable enough to truly grow into their best selves and be seen as such by their friends. Thus, the warm atmosphere also enables the pursuit of merit to flourish. Seen in this light, the great victory for the culture of meritocracy born in Kumiko's first year was not to triumph over and erase the preexisting culture and devote everything to going for the gold. It was instead to finally integrate itself with it so that both could help Kitauji shine its brightest, and make it a place that everyone could look back on with joy.
Closing remarks
My analysis started out from a small musing about how things get passed down through history. As I thought about it more and more, I began to see that the culture of meritocracy born in Kumiko's first year had its own warmth, just like the piece of music 'Hibike! Euphonium'. It just needed someone to come along and bring that out so that it could be passed down 'for the juniors to hear'. I think this is the key to preserving its survival. I love Hibike because of its characters. I got to see them grow into the best version of themselves. The character I wrote about in this essay, however, could remain behind long after the characters that we know and love have ended their time at Kitauji, even the two teachers. Nobody knows how long it will endure. But I hope to have convincingly shown how it grew into the best version of itself here in the S3 re-audition, and certainly has a better chance now than it had before. Born by historical accident, preserved and nurtured through many small acts of imagination and courage, this was the story of meritocracy at Kitauji.
I have no doubt that the opinions I expressed in this piece will change over the years as I rewatch this show. I also wish that I was also able to do work in the vein of the various excellent Youtube essays about Hibike, analysing the story at the level of the characters whose motives, choices, and growth drives the story. Nevertheless, I saw something about a great idea the interpretation of which has touched the lives of many, and tried to tell its story without doing too much violence to the other characters. I also learned a lot about literary analysis and the presentation of my ideas through writing this. But most importantly, it was fun. I felt like I was finally penetrating through what commentators and even the other characters were saying about each other, finding one of the many stories buried inside this great story, and bringing it to light.
I don't expect everyone to accept every single claim I made in here either. But I would be more than happy enough if this essay manages to raise new questions about this series. When we look over something with a different question in mind, we see it as if anew. And I suspect this may constitute the joy of re-reading things. That is all.
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