The epistemology of Marimite, or how the gay grok

By Cuchlann on 5 March 2009 | Anime | 5 Comments

marimite_camera

Sorry, I had to use that line — we of course don’t know if anyone (other than Sei) is gay or bi.  

My sci-fi professor talks about epistemology every so often; given the nature of science fiction and its tendency to examine how we know what we know, this makes sense.  It also means the topic is on my mind, and I owe you folks a Marimite post.  So we’ll get a six-pack of theory and see where the night takes us.

Who’s familiar with Descartes?  Anyone?  Good, good, you in the back?  No?  Okay.  

Descartes is the guy who said “I think, therefore I am.”  Except he wrote it, and in Latin.  Originally it’s “cogito ergo sum.”  This was the result of two thought-experiments.  Being a huge nerd, but with no internet, Descartes seems to have sat down one day and asked himself, “What do I really know?”  He came to the conclusion that, due to their fuzzy and not very reliable nature, he couldn’t know anything that came to him through his senses.  What does that leave?  Not much.  The only thing he could be sure of was that he was thinking.  The entire world might be an illusion, there might not be any people in it, but he was thinking.

The next day (in his next essay, at any rate), he sat down again, and rather than spent twenty minutes arguing about whether the girl down the road was moe even though he didn’t feel the urge to protect her, he instead asked, “What does it mean that I’m thinking?”  Ultimately he came to the conclusion I quoted at you above — that if he was thinking, it meant, necessarily, that he was.  That is, he must exist, or he could not think.  

Now, whether your ascribe to Descartes’ theories or not (Cartesian Dualism, for example, isn’t thought too rad any longer), this is a great place to begin examining thought processes.  Which leads us, like a river to the sea, to Marimite.

Specifically, episode seven.  I watched eight already as well, and there are notes of this in that episode, but seven provided me with the spark of inspiration for this post.  In it Yumi tries to get Touko to become her little sister and is rebuffed.  In both episodes seven and eight Yumi spends some time figuring out what Touko might be thinking; she is distracted, sometimes, by a party, and seriously considers going to Kashiwagi, who knows all about Touko’s past and her circumstances, and finding out all about her.

Yumi comes to the conclusion she shouldn’t do that, it would be…  well, she’s not very clear on the problem, but most of us would agree with her that it would be unfair, or wrong, or prying, in some way.  Yumi should learn about Touko, the proper line of reasoning goes, from Touko.  This is the reason for the constant thread of Noriko running through this plot line — she is a way to get at Touko as well, and Yumi tries it once, and is rebuffed.  She quickly realizes what the problem was — Yumi should ask Touko to the party herself — and recants.  So yay, huzzah, so on.  But the rest of the problem hasn’t dawned on her yet, it seems.

You may be wondering why I spent so long jabbering about Descartes and epistemology.  Here’s where I (try to) make sense of it:  Yumi knows, truly, only that she exists.  She has a lot of beliefs — she assumes she’s right in thinking there are other people around, for example — but can only know she exists.  All other knowledge is filtered, for her, through unstable means.  Not only her senses, now, but her society and her surroundings.  She’s getting a lot of conflicting signals, from Sachiko, Kashiwagi, Noriko, and of course from Touko herself.  Here is the key question:  how does she know anything about Touko?  My answer is through the metaphorical equivalent of her senses — other people.  She is assembling an image of Touko from the fragments of the world around her, rather than the equivalent of thought, which is direct contact with Touko herself.  

The show, while highlighting this, seems also to be preparing Yumi for a better understanding.  It takes her a while — as it’s not part of her image of Touko yet — but Yumi finally figures out the dramatic monologue delivered at the party; Yumi doesn’t catch the significance of the speech, though, illustrating she’s still not figured things out well enough.  

How does this comparison between thought processes and personal interactions bear any fruit for us?  It highlights something I think is true:  the relationships of the sister-pairs make of them something like a single unit, much like Plato’s speculation on destined pairs that “complete” each other.  A pair of sisters who are good for each other function on a level of shared thought and understanding that makes of them nearly a single person, and thus describable to each other through Descartes’ self-awareness.  They are aware that the only truth that governs them is that they simply are — Yumi and Sachiko, at this point, want nothing more from each other than to simply be together, hence Sachiko’s decision to attend Lilian University.  Yumi and Touko have agendas, even though they are close to being in the same dialectal space as Yumi and Sachiko.  

~~~

If you don’t think this makes any sense, keep in mind that I wrote over 2000 words of thesis earlier today, and am reading a novel by Stanislaw Lem, which is excuse enough for mental fatigue.  But I think there’s something useful in there, though maybe it’s buried.

5 Responses to “The epistemology of Marimite, or how the gay grok”

  1. animekritik says:

    Interesting. Then again, Touko could just lie when asked about herself. Wouldn’t that be an epistemological nightmare?

  2. Marmoset says:

    Hmmmm this does indeed make very little sense, though it’s nice to have another Marimite post. “How does she know anything about Touko?” is more of a psychological (and as you mentioned earlier, possibly an ethical) question than a metaphysical one, you may as well ask “how does she know Touko isn’t a mule named Primrose?” if we’re bring Cartesian theories into the mix.

    Drawing on my c-grade philosophy AS level; I think to find a better analogy would be to return to Plato. If you consider Touko to be the Form of Touko then the various information that others hold on Touko are the shadows of Touko’s Form. Again, this seems more like a literary exercise than a philosophical one, akin to the myth-analogy posts I guess.

    I think there is something in how sisters are supposed to share the same opinion but I’m quite tired myself.

  3. jp says:

    Well you couldn’t make less sense than Descartes even if you tried.

    Throw in some thoroughly unoriginal skepticism along with a “bububut it’s obvious :( ” argument and might have something (Not much) but if you read any further into Descartes, you get a real acid trip of a Philosophy.

    We need to build a videogame based off of Cartesian Physics too. I’d pay to see that.

  4. vendredi says:

    @jp – Maybe not exactly what you’re looking for, but search up “Dresden Codak and Dungeons and Discourse” – not really Cartesian physics, but maybe a look at what a philosophy-based role-playing game might be…

    Back on topic… haven’t seen much of Marimite myself, but the thought of what makes a “complete pair” is an interesting one; so I’ll bring that up. Marmoset mentions something in this of how “sisters are supposed to share the same opinion,” the idea being that a well matched pair in Marimite would be able to at the very least implicitly understand each other (or perhaps just appreciate each other) in the way that Sachiko and Yumi do. But is this similar for any of the other “pairings”? (ugh, talk about a hell of a word to use for this anime…)

  5. Cuchlann says:

    @animekritik: Exactly, which is yet another problem — though Touko is tending to back down and admit things when Yumi presses her. Sometimes.

    @Marmoset: If you want to look at it that way, everything I do is a “literary exercise.” Actually, I think what you’re trying to get at is Sartre, that we cannot understand another person, or communicate with them, because we are individuals with differing experience, and thus unable to get what’s *really* coming out of another’s mouth — now, why he wrote a bunch of books if he actually believed that is beyond me. I didn’t refer to Sartre because I wanted to look, as well, at how Yumi gets her information from faulty sources, but either way works, really.

    @jp: I once wrote a poem called “Cartesian Duelists.”

    @vendredi: In some way or another yes, I think they all do. Sachiko’s older sister would silently pull strings to make things happen that Sachiko needed; Sei blithely accepts everything Shimako wants, thus allowing her to relax; Rei is alternately stoic or dere-dere depending on what the mercurial Yoshino needs at any one time. The implication seems to be that once they figure each other out (see the early storylines, where strife ruled the day) they slot together pretty well, providing what they each need with little to no actual communication involved.

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