ef - a tale of notes: major symbolism explained

Posted by Owen S on Mon, 19 Nov 2007. View the original post at Cruel Angel Theses ♪

This is another Anime Blogging Collective™ joint blogging effort brought to you by TheBigN, Roxas, CCYoshi, Moogy, Damien, and Martin. As ef is the Lucky Star of the season in that it’s a severely misunderstood anime that’s getting bad press due to badly written, snap judgement opinions that prefer to brand it the misunderstood problem child from a couple of episodes, we thought that a feature like this was severely overdue.

If you haven’t started on this gem of an anime, now would be a great time to do so. A note of interest would be that the seemingly random images only appear for 10% of the time in the first two episodes, before dipping to about 5% in episode 03 and further dropping to non-existent amounts on consecutive episodes. I’ve heard people comment on ef getting better, but it isn’t merely my opinion when I say that it was always good.

I say this on the strength of rewatching the entire series up till episode 06 so far; it’s evidently an anime that’s intended to be viewed more than once. You could say it’s a flaw in that the first two episodes are incoherent on a first viewing but make perfect sense when viewed later, but I’d rather look at it as a strength. It’s undeniably ambitious and artsy in its own idiosyncratic way, but powerfully executed, only underwhelming due to its extensive usage of what seem like red herrings in the beginning, and I hope that this series of posts will clear the air on that, enhancing your enjoyment of the show as a result.

The sky is one of the more prominent and potentially confusing symbols of ef. Its usage is mainly restricted to visual cues for the feelings that the characters go through by means of colours, tones, and shades. This results in conversations that are almost omniscient in quality, as the viewer is clued in or at least made aware of a character’s intentions and motives.

It’s hardly what I’d call random when the placement of each and every outline shaded in a sky tone has a pattern to it — note that this only happens during the more significant conversations that the main characters have with each other. Outside of the relationships that the three main couples (Hiro-Miya, Renji-Chihiro, Kyousuke-Kei and other combinations) have with each other, this symbol is never used, thus disqualifying it as a non sequitur.

In addition to that, the sky also plays a prominent part as a backdrop to the many conversations that take place, and here the effects of such usage are akin to that of the storm in Shakespeare’s King Lear; specifically, the motif of “the storm within and the storm without” comes to mind as the weather seems to mirror a character’s emotions, whether angry or sad, happy or contented.

This is one of the strengths of the sky symbolism — it allows you to arrive at your own conclusions about the actual meaning or significance of it specifically. While it sounds fluffy in theory, the purpose that the sky achieves here is essentially assigning moods to the varying colours of the sky, which recur to some extent between episodes.

The end result is what I’d like to call an “emotional backdrop”. Rather than using a real life setting in order to establish mood, what the emotional backdrop here does use a purely subjective conveyance of colours that has an individual meaning to the viewer; this meaning when established is then repeated throughout the show, resulting in scenes that immediately make sense (e.g., blue sky = serenity/longing/doubt) even if the viewer isn’t immediately aware of it.

Finally, the sky can also mirror the content of the dialogue, as can be seen in the exchange between Miya and Kei in episode 05. The clouds begin to cast a shadow over the two as they talk, only for it to clear up as soon as they’re done — this has a parallel in what Miya tells Kei, who makes her question her beliefs and cast doubt on what she’s been trying to do all along, before ending on a positive note with some advice.

The basketball is another significant recurrence in ef, the earliest reference to it being made in episode 01 when Kyousuke lays eyes on Kei for the first time, and a shot of a basketball appears for a second. It has a twofold meaning: on one hand, it’s symbolic of Kei’s unrequited love for Hiro, as can be seen in episode 06 where her intentions are finally made clear.

On the other hand it is also a reminder of the line uttered by Hiro to Miya, as seen below. Kei doesn’t consider herself worthy of Hiro unless she has something that brings her on an equal footing with him. Basketball is this very pursuit that she thinks will be the deciding factor in Kei falling for her, which is why she assumes the moral high ground when talking about or confronting Miya, who has nothing by her standards.

There’s inherent irony in that her simultaneous success and failure demonstrate the futility of her actions, obtaining Hiro’s attention after failing in what she set out to do, all this while attracting an unwanted suitor in the form of Kyousuke who is evidently in love with her, or at least an image of her, even if he doesn’t know this himself.

The key and the rooftop symbolises Hiro’s struggle to find meaning in his life and the future he’s chosen for himself. The key in this case represents Hiro’s reclusive nature, and the invisible boundaries he imposes upon himself, having made a conscious effort to not be close to anyone. When Miya asks him for the key, and then a copy of it, his refusal has a double meaning behind it — aside from the immediate, literal consequences, allowing her the key would mean allowing her into his life as well.

For the rooftop can be said to be the place where Hiro retreats, both from the world and his own troubles, in order to contemplate and mull things over. The shots of the school in black and white are particularly important, for he proceeds to muse on the colour missing from his world. He sees school as nothing more than a formal annoyance, and would rather look for the meaning of life that eludes him by being so near yet so far away, which can be seen in the scene where he gazes upon a moon looming above.

Miya’s role in ef is made clearer by understanding this, for her presence isn’t merely as a token character vying for the affections of Hiro together with Kei. Neither is she there to teach Hiro the meaning of life or discover that little something that’s missing from the world he sees; she’s there to help him forget about it by concentrating on the infinitely more important things, like just living and being.

By doing so she inadvertently enriches Hiro’s life through her simplistic nature and worldview. Her life is carefree and anarchic, and she lives for the moment, not seeing the need to do anything in particular — a deep contrast to Hiro’s life, which is purpose-driven and devoted towards his art, the crux of which, as he says to Miya, is “I think someone whose dream comes true has a kind of responsibility.”

Next up: minor symbolism in ef explained, and Cliff’s Notes.