“a sound soul resides within sound mind and sound body” (Tadashi)

“a healthy soul, resides in a healthy mind and a healthy body” (Rumbel)

Before I proceed to ramble on pretensiously about the themes of a slick anime thrillride, let’s get some basics out of the way. Action series have meaning – not just in the minds of their self-centred viewers, but in their implicit worldview. If we look at the up-front motivational maxims which tend to reside within these shonen combat shows, it becomes apparent that different productions have different nuances. Take the idea that Soul Eater lacks the dynamic anti-authoritarian edge. What beliefs Soul Eater does offer the viewer are becoming more apparent as the show goes on.

Maybe these ideological factors don’t really decide why the show is good – which could be pretty much boiled down to having much interesting art, a solid narrative formula, BONES with a budget, great music. I’m on about about what Soul Eater is. Of course the reason that I care what it is would be because it’s so awesomely excellent at brilliance. It would be rather presumptuous of me to claim it as the best show of the still ongoing anime season, so whilst I’m doing that, I’ll go the whole hog: Soul Eater is the show of the year. (And even if it isn’t the best show of the year, it’ll probably define the year in anime for me as much as anything else will, by sheer length at the very least)

Soul Eater’s coolness can be tricky to write about. I was wondering a couple of weeks back if it was just too snarkyily self aware to have any accessible subtexts. But after a gorgeous but slightly dramatically blank introductory period the series gets progressively better about displaying its intents. So, for the following, spoilers through eps 1-11 will crop up.

Back to that quote I opened with – on the house of the sound soul. Doesn’t that really say everything about the ideal represented by so many of our heroes? To want to be right, healthy, a unified person every way. In comparison to the repeated thematic statement which preceded episodes of Fullmetal Alchemist, that introductory maxim might seem rather lightweight. But the simple ideal grows ever more resonant.

The idea of resonance is pretty much what Soul Eater has to offer. Lots of these fighting shows are really about companionship. Soul Eater stands in contrast to what I think of as the the democratic approach to combat. You know the deal, “the spirit of the team wills me on, I am the chosen face, the avatar of my social group – with them behind me I can do it all”. Soul Eater is more personal than that, about perfect partnerships as the amplifier of power. Partnership is about more than friendship and common purpose, it’s about trust and the will to put your life in somebody elses hands, even if they’re rather ridiculous.

To take an example, as Tsubaki prepares to fight her brother, Black Star (a widely loathed character, who has been closely involved with many of the best bits of Soul Eater) stops her from forcing herself to explain, and just commits. It’s a total faith which contrasts to that of Maka, who’s (understandingly) afraid to put Soul’s life on the line. What’s the lesson here, to be like the blue haired nut, to be a fool? Patty laughs maniacly at Death the Kids foibles – but she’s lethal when needed. Is this a celebration of being irrational, is that needed to have total faith in a person? Presumably what the series will show us is the rather more restrained Maka learning how to make the same commitment – to become like the more cartoony characters in this cartoon. That’s what resonance signifies, it’s more than just never-say-die, it’s faith.

And isn’t that cool? Not to believe in a romantic idea of friendship per se (SoulxBlack Star), or in great organisations, but in the very essence of another human being. Sure you could be wrong about them, and you can only go so far with the powers of two people, they’re only human and all. But it’s still glorious. Glorious in a way that those who “sell out”, who destroy individuality in becoming mighty demons, can’t be. It’s a glory only accessible to those who are “healthy”.

It’s a sign of the ideological coherence of Soul Eater that, in her personal showdown, Tsubaki apparently looses the fight, is left impaled and bleeding without laying a scratch on her opponent. That even though she’s gifted and determined and right, she isn’t magically made stronger. She takes the blow, she bleeds out, and her victory is in showing her brother what it is that lies behind her silence – and making him renounce his corrupted soul. It’s the clearest sign yet that Soul Eater can offer a Gurren-Lagannish combination of the stunningly exciting and the manly-tearesque.

So then, health. Is a healthy mind just a social one? What we know it isn’t, which would be a mind like Medusa’s. She couldn’t be much less healthy minded without entering some stage of undress. She’s a witch doctor with a doctorate, a genuine physician with a broomstick in the cupboard, a snake on her arm, and a grin like a smug cadaver. But, on the other hand, a hero like Stein is a wee bit nuts too – so a healthy mind isn’t a conformist one, it’s a moral one. Morality is in self-sufficiency, it’s in faith, it’s in selflessness.

That morality is based in a personal unity suggested by unity of body and soul. Not to be interested in consuming souls, but in knowing and being your best self – certainty, reliability. Not to use others but to resonate with one other. And yes, this is an idea we’ll all have often encountered elsewhere in one form or another. But in Soul Eater the focus is on partnership as the acme of soundness.

It’s probably best demonstrated by Masamune. In contrast to not-villains like Stein, characterless one-off villains like the Pharoh, and pathetic anti-villains like Chrona, he really gets the point across. Masamune consumed others, and he’s the clearest vision so far of a man gone wrong by degrees – misreading the world and his place in it. Masamune shows us the dark side with clarity, and shows us that the essence of a person lies in their relations and in finding a stable role. I’d agree then, that at its heart Soul Eater is not rebellious – the rebel in Soul Eater is self-centered, neurotic and unsound.

This ain’t complex, it isn’t very deep. But it is an approach with an internal coherence. Sound thinking backed by magnificent visuals, good music, fun comedy, distinctive style. And what’s more, Soul Eater still has space to move into – how will Maka learn? how does transforming into a monster progress? what motivates Medusa? what of witches in general? These aren’t just plot spaces in a killer action show, they’re opportunities to further that core belief which Soul Eater carries. A belief in the sound individual, in a heroism based in selflessness and partnership.