How do you rate episodes 10 of
Made in the Abyss: The City of Gold (TV 2) ?
Just a few days before this article was written, Tim Rogers commented on his action button YouTube channel, broadcast from PlayStation’s classic Japanese adventure game A Times, My Xia Ancheng . Ever since I read that review, there is one line that has stuck in my head since I first watched it . Later in the video, Rogers is on a horrific nostalgia trip back to Kansas City, where he spent most of his childhood, saying, “Those places don’t remember us.” Later, about what you might find out To the commemorative placards scattered on thousands of public benches in the country’s parks and playgrounds, he made one correction: “Places don’t remember us. If they do, we’re dead.” I mean, there’s nothing more perfect than the whole mission statement of this show package? I’ve been trying to start this review since the words of Rogers started floating around in my head, and even now I don’t know if I can find a better way to express what “gold” makes me feel , or what I still feel now. “The place doesn’t remember us. If they do, we’re dead.” has been telling us this since the beginning. It also keeps challenging us, forcing us to consider that terrible and indifferent fact, and asking us, “Now that you know, what will you do? How far are you willing to go when the only certainty that awaits you is the darkness of the abyss? “
In some ways, you can of course say that “gold” is a More confusing ending, less satisfying than the ending of
On his deathbed, the Prophet confessed to Nanaki that he The goal is to transcend humanity so that he can finally escape the gilded meat cage he has made for himself and his followers. He failed, finally. His meddling with Riko and Vueko, his strange bridge to the beasts of the abyss, whatever fantasies he has about Faputa’s future, and the prize waiting at the end of the abyss – he won’t see any of it, let alone explain it myself. For some, this can feel anticlimactic, which is understandable. The same thing applies to smaller moments, like the death of most of the hollow people in the village, or Vueko’s brief and heartbreaking farewell to a hollow man named Pakkoyan. For a double-length ending, “Gold” sometimes struggles to find time to sort out its house, and it leaves a lot of unspoken or seemingly unresolved details.
I’m fine with it all, myself, because Whatever the mess that exists or the missed opportunity in this ending is overshadowed by the sheer beauty of the ending they serve, all overshadowed by sweet and simple honesty. it is Beautiful and sweet, even with so much death and bloodshed to wade through. Dedicating their bodies to Faputa when she needed it most, Moogie and the other villagers found true peace in their deaths, even if their role in Irumyuui’s exploitation could never truly be forgiven. In their final moments before they are long overdue for oblivion, Majikaja and Maa get one last chance to show their loved children a truly lasting friendship (yes, Maa uses her final seconds to put Riko’s back on The glasses were the moment that caused the old gate in my tear duct to burst).
Most importantly, Vueko has a chance to really understand Irumyuui’s Hope and her wish before her death, when she learns that even though Faputa was given almost every memory of her mother, almost every ounce of fear, anger and pain, she was never given Vueko. With righteous jealousy, Irumyuui clings to the memory of her mother she found at the bottom of the world. Vueko has always known that Irumyuui is her own greatest asset, and in her final moments, she can feel that all the love is reciprocated in kind.
That’s all there is to it, finally. That’s why Faputa can hold her head high and walk freely into her future, now that her mother is at peace. That’s why Reg can reach out and give all his love to the princess he can’t remember and promise to be her prince again in any way. Because of this, when Wazukyan asked Riko if it was worth the pain and sacrifice to come all the way to this place, and if it was worth everything that followed, she answered with little thought. It’s a moment of joyous arrogance that perfectly illuminates her role in this story as our heroine. Of course, it’s always worth it. Of course, it always will be. How else could she possibly know what her life had in store for her?
That’s why, despite its flaws, I can’t help but love the second seasonal as much as the first one. It taught me a lesson I didn’t know I needed, and at the right time in my life. This year has been a particularly difficult year. The whole world feels out of sync. I think about my mortality more than ever, and I’ve become all too aware of the squeaks and cracks in my body, how different I don’t even feel the world the same way I did a few years ago. I’m more and more worried about where I am in life, not where I thought I was going back when I was Riko’s age. I never believed in a higher power, and if I think too much about what might happen after we die, I start to feel sick. I am more scared ) Liver than I can remember, if that makes any sense.
Then let me see, after our heroes set off again On the final journey, Faputa stopped to leave some stones for Vueko’s grave. Places don’t remember us, and if they remember, we’re dead. But it’s not over yet? Whether it’s the mouth of the abyss or just the walls around our homes and workplaces, as human beings, we are not defined by where we live and die in the world. We’re not even defined by the walls of flesh and bone that surround our brains every day. We are not the scars on our skin, nor the earth in which we will find ourselves buried or scattered until our soul comes back.
All of these are A part of us , for sure, we all That great pile of love and pain must be collected because it makes us our worth. But it’s not all of us . The place doesn’t remember us. Our bodies don’t last long enough to remember us forever. That doesn’t mean we can’t find meaning in our lives. That doesn’t mean we have to be taken into the void without leaving a mark on the world we live in. Wish we knew that , I think, in its own bizarre (and often disgusting) way, gave me a foothold on top of myself. For that reason alone, I’ll probably love it forever.
It reminds me that when faced with the unfathomable and When things are intolerable, you have to make choices. When the abyss needs us, it’s easy to turn our backs on us and not think about what might be waiting for us at the bottom, even if it means standing firm forever. Or, we can be like Riko. We can choose to go down and move on under unfathomable and unbearable circumstances. We can embrace every blessing and curse we encounter along the way, and we can be thankful for every step we took to surpass them. We can find our most precious friends and loved ones arm in arm so that each of us can meet our final destination without any regrets weighing us down. We can engrave our stories in the memory of everyone we come into contact with, and we can mark what we’ve learned and what we’ve lost for other travelers to find.
In other words, we can choose to take risks. No matter what we become, it’s bound to be a hell of a story.