There’s not much introduction to do. Anatomy of Criticism, being a book, continues. Here’s part one of my reading of the first essay, “Historical Criticism: Theory of Modes.” I’ve broken this up into two parts partly because I’m really tired and I’m not sure if I’m processing very well today, and partly because the essay is broken into sections on tragedy and comedy, making my tired-decision easier to make.
I will be honest with you. I am very tempted to just write about how awesomely funny episode nine, or episode ten, of Kannagi was and just leave it at that. I’ve actually been trawling the depths of my sick-addled mind for days, trying to think of anything I could use here other than, well, what I’m going to be using here. Because to tell you about the end of Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann, I have to tell you a story. My stories are usually about plucky, unprepared people confronting enormous danger, usually involving ghosts or giant clockwork machines. This danger is more pedestrian, but easier to relate to. I have to tell you about my first real relationship.
Yeah, you know what’s coming. In fact, Cuchlann beat me to the punch with this moment. Perhaps needless to say, if you haven’t seen Gurren-Lagann, and you want to, you should not read on.
But if you have seen it, let’s revisit that part again.
I’m not finished with Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann yet, and as readers from my personal blog might expect, I’m horribly behind, both with the newest stuff and with my own, personal schedule.
As you might guess from the title, I want to deal with GL in terms of mythology. And, really, when is talking about Kamina a bad thing?