#black butler #ciel phantomhive #kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #sebastian x ciel #submission
Along Came a Spider: Apocalypse and Kuroshitsuji
Submitted by singacrossthemoon
An academic piece written for school.
Thesis: Internal and external apocalypses have been a common trope in anime since the very beginning, but rarely have those ideas been utilized as effectively as in the show Kuroshitsuji. This essay analyzes the use of those apocalyptic themes, particularly in regards to the show’s lead, Ciel Phantomhive. (And yes, there is SebaCiel. XD Please no plagiarizing. ^^)
There is, in Japan, a popular tale by Akutagawa Ryunosuke that goes something like this: one day, while walking through the woods, a terrible thief crossed paths with a spider. As one in possession of a ruthless disposition, the thief normally would have squashed such an insect without a second thought… but on that day, he allowed the creature to live. This random act of kindness in a life full of crime was both seen and remembered by the Buddha. Years passed, and eventually, the thief died and went to Hell. However, in thanks for that one moment, the Buddha offered the thief a way to salvation: he lowered a single spider’s thread into the pit, where the thief might see it and use it to climb out. Of course, humans are selfish by nature, and when others saw the spider thread, they all made a grab for it. The thief, forgetting whatever compassion he’d learned, refused to share his prize; that callousness cause the thread to snap, damning everyone forever (Gonzalez, 1). Called “The Spider’s Thread,” it is, at its core, a story of apocalypse: how one’s own actions will destroy them, as well as the lives of those around them. It is a trope used often in anime, but rarely quite so effectively as in the series Kuroshitsuji (Black Butler in America), particularly in regards to the franchise’s poignantly portrayed “thief-character,” the young lead, Ciel Phantomhive.
Set in the gothic mansions and manors of Victorian England, Kuroshitsuji spins the tale of a young earl named Ciel Phantomhive, victim of a terrible fate. On his tenth birthday, his pampered life is cut short when his mother and father are brutally murdered, his house burned down, and he himself spirited away, off to suffer a month of ruthless torture in captivity. Yet, at the end of that month, he is offered (in his own words) a spider’s thread: the occultists who kidnapped him try to sacrifice Ciel to a summoned devil, but the devil in question rather takes a liking to the child. At Ciel’s insistence, the two form a Faustian contract: the demon will dole out revenge on his master’s behalf, but once vengeance has been wrought, Ciel’s soul is forfeit. Until that time, the demon—whom Ciel names “Sebastian Michaelis”—is ordered to act as Ciel’s butler, bound to obey the child’s whims and wishes until the day that Sebastian is allowed to claim his ultimate prize. In both the anime and manga canons, it has been three years since their covenant was formed. Since then, Ciel has taken up his father’s role as “The Queen’s Watchdog,” a position in London’s seedy underground. With Sebastian’s help, he investigates the darkest mysteries that the era has to offer, all in the hopes of one day solving the ultimate riddle: who tried to ruin his life and why.
While both are fantastic and entertaining mediums in which to enjoy the story, the Kuroshitsuji manga, penned by Toboso Yana, is still in-progress, with no end in sight. The anime, on the other hand, was created to encompass the entirety of Sebastian and Ciel’s story in a single, 24-episode season, and thus offers a conclusive, albeit heartbreaking, end. (1) Much like the manga it is based on, the Kuroshitsuji anime is a masterful weave of all three of Napier’s “modes of anime,” “the apocalyptic, the elegiac, and the carnival,” while simultaneously “speaking” to the Japanese and their love of the “in-between world” of grayscale morality and contextual ethics (Napier, XIII; Kelts, 46). While an analysis of any of the characters would, to some degree, help encapsulate the show’s atmosphere, it is Ciel Phantomhive who best personifies all of these quintessential aspects, particularly the idea of the apocalypse; it is, after all, his decisions that bring about two apocalypses during the course of the series. First, the physical kind: destruction not only of Ciel’s own body, but also of London, which is burnt to the ground in the midst of his quest for retribution. Second, the more intimate sort, by way of the soul and future Ciel forsook the moment he took hold of the metaphorical thread that Sebastian offered.
Outside forces always play a part in shaping what goes on within, both in terms of a character as a person, as well as in regards to the world that he or she inhabits. Though Kuroshitsuji is a product of the late 2000s, one can very much see the influence of the 1990s mindset in the show’s themes and tones. As Tomiko Yoda says in Susan Napier’s Anime: From Akira to Howl’s Moving Castle, “Japan in the 1990’s has come to be widely perceived as the site of an imploding national economic system, a disintegrating social order, and the virtual absence of ethical and competent leadership” (XVI). The London that Ciel inhabits in is a telling reflection of this analysis, and has been corrupted by all manner of wickedness; from heartless killers (like his own aunt, as it is later revealed) to drug traffickers (such as the local Chinese mafia overlord Lau, one of Ciel’s closest business associates), London suffers from it all. As the Queen’s Guard Dog, it falls upon Ciel to try and keep London’s underground “civilized,” and eliminate all threats that Victoria perceives… cultivating in the eradication of Victoria herself. These varied jobs usually involve one-upping the ever-incompetent Scotland Yard, as well as risking personal safety and pride; during one memorable adventure, Ciel is forced to masquerade as a young lady (corset and all) in an attempt to hunt down Jack the Ripper (Toshiya). The idea of a thirteen-year-old boy wielding such power and influence—even disregarding the supernatural advantage of Sebastian— is not a foreign concept in anime; in this medium, children often bear the responsibility of restoring balance and harmony to the world (Shapiro, 290). Nevertheless, this idea is taken to an unusual extreme in Kuroshitsuji: in the last few episodes, Ciel discovers that Queen Victoria is the one who instigated the attack on his family, all in the hopes of “purifying” her country. As creation can never happen without destruction, it was, in her own words, essential to first eradicate “the Phantomhive household that has embraced all of the rot and depravity of my country” (Toshiya). This attack was done with the assistance of an angel sensitive to Victoria’s plight; it was also by way of this angel that the queen’s “newfound purity” manifested itself physically. As the angel explains to Ciel, the queen herself became “innocent” once again due to her noble work, and in the process regained the body of a little girl. This results in a child versus child, angel versus devil showdown, with both sides suffering under the belief that they are in the right. However, during this crucial moment, Ciel suddenly hesitates, and the queen and the angel are able to escape; this allows the angel to carry on with their destructive plans, and London is consequently set alight.
The original definition of apocalypse, according to the research of Napier, is “revelation” or “uncovering.” Either would be appropriate in this context, for it is only when Ciel “uncovers” the truth behind the queen that his Contract comes to an end, and he is forced to face death eye to eye—literally, in this case (252). Though soon-to-be-discussed internal battles result in a delay (both in terms of killing the queen and in Sebastian claiming his soul), by episode twenty four, Ciel has reaped his vengeance and passed away. It is during his final journey with Sebastian to the Isle of the Dead that the young earl has a second “revelation” in regards to Victoria: that his father, Vincent, the previous Guard Dog, was aware of the queen’s intentions, and withheld the truth from his son. It was Vincent’s hope that Ciel would grow up loyal and patriotic, without knowing hatred. Thus, in a convoluted way, this exposure, too, ties back to a traditional anime trope, that of the “faulted father.” Not only did Vincent vanish (by way of death), but he also set Ciel upon a path of apocalyptic destruction by failing to be forthright with him, thus inadvertently encouraging the boy to find answers on his own.
Of course, not all can be blamed on Vincent. Ciel himself does not begrudge his father his secret; he had always made it clear that he was taking revenge for his own sake, and not for his parents. Even still, revenge is a product of one’s attachment to the past, and nostalgia is, as Napier writes, “fundamentally dangerous” (240). Despite Ciel’s manta that “something once lost can never be returned,” he is human. Consequently, to an extent, he does try to regain what he had lost: he commissions his demon to rebuild the Phantomhive mansion, restoring the ruins to their former glory; his parents and pet he replaces with Sebastian (named, in fact, after his dog); Tanaka, the house steward, survived the attack on the original manor, and continues to serve, along with a cheerful trio of klutzy new servants. Ciel also maintains a (somewhat strained) relationship with his childhood friend, cousin, and fiancée, Elizabeth Middleford. Napier claims that “most standard historical dramas use the main female character as a ‘vehicle for tradition,’” and this is very true in Lizzie’s case (240). Not only does Lizzie promote the ideas of a more conventional Victorian era, but she is also one of Ciel’s only surviving links to his past and lost innocence—which, some fans argue, is Ciel’s main reasons for protecting her. Perhaps it is the combination of all of these new comforts that leads Ciel “astray,” as it were; in the first season’s OVA bonus episode, the final scene closes with a voice over of Ciel thinking “I want to continue living. And to forget about revenge” (Toshiya).
While said bonus episode serves mainly as a bridge between seasons one and two, Ciel also waffles to some degree in the series proper, which is a key issue in feeding his inner apocalypse. During the latter half of the series, a Scotland Yard officer named Abberline perishes in the process of saving Ciel’s life. As he lay dying, Abberline encourages Ciel to never give up, because he still has a chance for a brighter future. In those final moments, Ciel tries to tell the policeman the truth, but it is too late. Inevitably, the experience leaves a mark on the young earl. Prior to this particular incident, the queen’s angel had attempted to alter Ciel’s memories, making it so that he’d forget his past and live happily; Ciel had resisted, and his hatred and thirst for retribution overcame the angel’s holy magic. Yet, when he and Sebastian approach the queen after Abberline’s death, Ciel (as previously mentioned) retracts his order to kill her. He later claims that there were too many people around who might have paid witness, but in Sebastian’s eyes, his master has gone soft. After tucking him into bed that night, Sebastian tells him to “Forget everything. I wish you a good and happy dream;” the next morning, Sebastian has vanished.
In her book, Anime: From Akira to Howl’s Moving Castle, Napier discusses two series in great detail: Akira and Neon Genesis Evangelion. When considering the final arc of Kuroshitsuji, it is her analysis of these two anime that factor in most relevantly. In Akira, Tetsuo’s telekinetic abilities and quest for identity (not to mention revenge) lead to his downfall, but define him as a person, prompting him to state “I am Tetsuo” just before the final fade (Otomo). While (prior to season two) Ciel’s transformations are more mental and psychological than physical, he does suffer from the same basic pathology as Tetsuo. Sebastian serves as Ciel’s version of telepathy, as it is through Sebastian and his powers that Ciel’s vengeance is eventually wrought, and it is by way of Sebastian and his need for revenge that Ciel defines himself. After being abandoned by his butler, Ciel struggles to journey back to London on his own. During his travels, he runs into one of the many grim reapers in the show, who tells Ciel that he is soon going to die. This revelation— that he will soon die, and apparently not at the hands of Sebastian— shocks Ciel; subsequently, he realizes that his attitude has warped and changed who he is. Stranded and startled, he thinks to himself, “If I forsake my hatred, than my existence is meaningless. But then… then… who is this standing here?” (Toshiya). Immediately, Ciel’s attitude reverts as he reassess what matters; much like Shinji in Evangelion, Ciel is thus given an opportunity to see what other directions his life could have gone, but in the end, chooses Sebastian and vengeance, going so far as to state: “Since I’m going to die, I want to die as a soul that [Sebastian] wishes for” (Napier, 102; Toshiya).
This declaration of desire, of wanting to please Sebastian, might seem strange at first (why would one wish to make their murderer happy?), but it is not unusual in the context of this series. While Kuroshitsuji is technically filed under the shonen (boys) label, even the producer of the first season, Kouji Taguchi, has mistakenly called it a fujoushi, or “boy’s love” series (Anime News Network). Indeed, in regards to Kuroshitsuji, at least, Napier is not incorrect in claiming that there is “a connection between apocalypse and sexuality” (256). While Sebastian has his own separate entity, he is very much “inside” of Ciel (by way of their Contract), and it is their relationship that dictates almost everything that Ciel does. Yet, it is equally suggestive in the series that Ciel affects Sebastian using that same bond; there is a fascinating play of demon humanization and human demonization in this show, which many fans believe is the result of their spirit-binding covenant and its symbiotic flow of power. While the changes in Sebastian’s character are more the focal point of season two, there remains a number of instances in season one to suggest that both parties have begun to see the other as more than just a means to an end. If homoeroticism is, as Napier suggests, a “means of escape,” it would make sense that there is so much of it in Kuroshitsuji: from a rather comedic (and suggestive) sequence of Sebastian putting Ciel into a corset, to the discovery that Sebastian is more important to Ciel than his dead parents, to their final moments on the Isle of the Dead, when, of his own free will, Sebastian caresses Ciel’s face and promises to be gentle when extracting his soul, the sexual tension between the two is virtually undeniable (Napier, 256; Toshiya). In fact, it is one of the largest selling points of the series, and the creators both know and cater to it. Both seasons of the anime are full of fanservice; there is a plethora of posters one can buy featuring Ciel in Sebastian’s arms, or of the two sharing a secretive glance— even one of them sleeping together in the same bed. Not even live action could censor their subtext: both Kuroshitsuji musicals feature “SebaCiel” themed moments, from an almost-kiss to the infamous “corset scene” (Fukuyama). One of Sebastian’s songs, called “Hallucination,” is so blatant in its homoeroticism that it legitimately shocked many fans:
“Brushing your lips and immediately tearing them
And then once more, with a gentle touch
Like a wave, hugging you
Destiny crumbles; the noise of it lingers
While entangled, the fingertip strays
Is that sin? Or is it a trap?
Where there was ice, now feelings flame
It begins to melt, it begins to blaze, and my eyes close
You’ve seen the dream so many times
But as for tonight…” (Fukuyama)
While it is possible to argue that Sebastian is singing about how he will eventually consume Ciel’s soul (which, by way of its use of screen shots, the anime also suggests will be via kiss), even then, the sexual undertones in both characters’ words and deeds are difficult to ignore.
Equally difficult to ignore is the idea of the spider and its thread, an allusion which is returned to time and time again. Much like the anime and manga, the musicals reference it too, most notably in Sebastian’s song, Keiyaku (“Contract”), sung to Ciel when first summoned:
“Struggle, smeared with humiliation.
Take that spider thread,
escape the pit of despair
and go back to the start” (Fukuyama)
Though Ciel can never truly “go back to the start,” he does use that thread to escape the pit for a while. In that sense, he is luckier than the original thief, who barely manages to grasp hold of the thread before it breaks. Yet, at the same time, Ciel’s story feels all the more despairing and hopeless because of it; while he does manage to use the thread, he never sees it as a means of attaining salvation. In episode seventeen of season one, Sebastian asks Ciel outright: “Do you really believe that if you grasp hold of [the thread], you can climb out of hell?” His master responds with a deadened: “No, not climb out. But I will grasp hold of the spider’s thread and pull the other person down. Pull him down to the hell I’ve gone through” (Toshiya). If the world must burn and Ciel must die in order to make that wish come true, then so be it. There are fates worse than death, after all, and with Sebastian by his side, Ciel will make sure that he never has to endure them again.
Footnote:
(1) In light of the series’ success, a second season of the show was eventually released. However, that does not change the original intent of the first season’s finale.
Work Cited
Akira. Dir. Katsuhiro Otomo. DVD. TMS Entertainment, 1988.
Gonzalez, Tony. “The Spider’s Thread [Akutagawa Ryunosuke]” in Translations and Such: Creative Common Licensed Translations of Japanese Fiction. 11 May. 2006. 14 May. 2011. <http://tonygonz.blogspot.com/2006/05/spiders-thread-akutagawa-ryunosuke.html>
Kelts, Roland. Japanamerica. New York: Palgrave Macmillian, 2007.
Fukuyama, Sakurako, dir. “Kuroshitsuji: Sono Shitsuji, Yūkō” (“Black Butler: That Butler, Amnity”). May. 2009.
Fukuyama, Sakurako, dir. “Myujikaru Kuroshitsuji: The Most Beautiful DEATH in the World, Sen no Tamashii to Ochita Shinigami” (“Musical Black Butler: The Most Beautiful DEATH in the World, One Thousand Souls and a Fallen Death God”). May. 2010.
Napier, Susan J. Anime: From Akira to Howl’s Moving Castle. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005.
“Producer: No Square-Enix Anime Lost Money in 8 Years.” Anime News Network 9 Oct. 2009. 9 Oct. 2009 < http://www.animenewsnetwork.com/news/2009-10-09/producer/no-square-enix-anime-lost-money-in-8-years>.
Shapiro, Jerome, “1945-2001: Japan’s Atomic Bomb Cinema” in Atomic Bomb Cinema, New York: Routlede, 2002.
Toshiya, Shinohara, dir. Kuroshitsuji. 2009. Animeseason.com. 29 Mar. 2009 <http://www.animeseason.com/kuroshitsuji/>.