#18th century childhood | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

opbackgrounds · 27 days ago

Text

The Romanticism of One Piece I: Definition

Part II Full essay posted on AO3 here

“Romanticism is the star which weeps” —Alfred de Musset

One Piece is a Romance. It’s the title of the opening chapter as well as the first volume, and was liked enough by Oda that he recycled it for the first chapter and volume after the time skip. Sprinkled throughout the story Luffy and others will declare certain moments to be romantic. But what does that actually mean?

If you go to website for Mirriam-Webster and scroll down to the fourth definition, you’ll read that romance is “a: marked by the imaginative or emotional appeal of what is heroic, adventurous, remote, mysterious, or idealized

b: often capitalized : of, relating to, or having the characteristics of romanticism”

It’s this second aspect of romance that I want to focus on today, because while One Piece is imaginative, and emotional, and adventurous, the roots of the manga dig much deeper than these superficial traits and tap into the much bigger movement that at one point dominated the Western World.

As with many things, Romanticism is a concept that at its face seems quite simple, but the more you try to pin down specifics the more it squirms into something amorphous and difficult to define. In his lectures on Romanticism, Isaiah Berlin described it as, “the greatest single shift in consciousness of the West” before spending an entire hour of his introductory lecture trying to distill it down to its purest essence. In the Romantic movement we find our modern ideas of imagination, childhood, and sentimentality. Its influence dominated everything from politics, philosophy, poetry, literature, art, music and architecture. From the Romantics was born the Nationalism of the late 18th and early 19th centuries, which would lead to tragic results in the 20th. It spanned Europe and America, the Western world alight with hope after the French Revolution only to watch with horror as it was followed by the Reign of Terror, Napoleon, and the wars he brought to the rest of the continent.

Pinpointing dates is difficult, but for simplicity’s sake it’s easiest to put it as lasting from approximately the mid 1700s through the mid to late 1800s. As Romanticism was a pan-European movement, it didn’t hit every place at the same time. It swept from France through Europe and eventually America at its own pace, blooming and dying independently of one another, with various precursor movements such as the Storm and Stress era in Germany, as well as holdovers lasting well after the golden age ended, the last embers clinging on until the First World War. Romanticism picked up the local flavor of wherever it went, the Romantic ideals of France related but not identical to the Romantic ideals of Germany, just as the Romanticism of William Wordsworth wasn’t the same as the Romanticism of Lord Byron.

When attempting to define Romanticism, it is perhaps easiest to see it in what it was trying to push back against. As with every movement, the Romantics were in conversation with the past, in their case the Enlightenment thinkers of the 17th and early 18th centuries. The Enlightenment as a movement is just as difficult to pin down as the Romantics, but on the whole it said that there was one, specific way men should live their lives, that there was a formula for happiness and improvement of the human condition using reason, science, and an appropriate methodology. While the various Enlightenment figures all disagreed what that methodology was, for the most part they all agreed that it existed. It favored cold, hard logic, a celebration of science and of learning, and was hopeful for a future where humanity could better itself through its own effort by understanding the universe in which it lived.

The Romantics looked at all of this, and said…no.

There are other factors to consider when discussing Romanticism, such as the increase in urbanization following the Industrial Revolution and the political instability brought on by corrupt, crumbling monarchies and the revolutions they spurned, but in my mind this defiant no is the beating heart of Romanticism. It’s a philosophy that emphasizes the self over all, prioritizing feeling over reason and experience over logic. In fact, to the Romantic, there was no knowledge without feeling.

Institutions such as the church lost some of their power even as the Romantics became more obsessed with spirituality and the occult. The idealized, pastoral past of their beloved romantic ballads was yearned for even as revolts broke out against the monarchies that ruled in those stories of old. There was veneration of the child and the so-called Noble Savage, who were free from the corrupting forces of society and civilization. Freedom was the rallying cry, with abolition, women’s, and animal rights movements all stirring within this time period, but there was no greater freedom than the freedom of self. To do what you wanted when you wanted to do it.

There was a preoccupation with individual genius, and there was little that could bolster one’s career more than living fast and dying young. The Romantic world was one where death was frightfully common, with the increased density of the rapidly growing cities leading to frequent breakouts of disease even as populations boomed. Nearly half of children didn’t live to see their fifth birthday, and for those who did survive to adulthood, the political instability of the time made the future seem uncertain. Better then, to reject the all-consuming industry of the modern age and the cities that seemed to destroy more than they built in favor of spending time alone in the glories of nature and their own imagination, living as they pleased, beholden to no one but their own conscience.

You’ll notice in the examples that I quote that most are white men and most of these men were well-educated. It’s a simple fact that the opportunities they were afforded were different than women and people of color, and their voices were amplified as a result. While there’s been increasing scholarship in recent years to diversify the canon, and there’s good fruit to be found in that regard, it must be acknowledged that the worldview shaped by the most famous Romantics is limited by this singular perspective.

That being said, there can be a more universal application to Romanticism, and One Piece proves that. The defiant no to the binding chains of society and the enthusiastic yes of personal freedom is something that we all feel at one point or another, and it’s what makes up the core of One Piece. Romanticism is a cosmic wanderlust, the ability to poeticize everything both great and small, the neverending search for, well…that depends on the person. But the important part is that they do search and they do dream. And it’s that search that I want to explore in more detail as I dig into specific aspects of Romanticism, and how One Piece applies.

#opbackgrounds #the romanticism of one piece #romanticism #one piece

272 notes · View notes

crumblinggothicarchitecture · 9 months ago

Text

Taylor Swift is a Female Rage icon? Get a Grip.

I’ve just received word that Taylor Swift is calling her show “Female Rage: The Musical.” Here is my very much pissed off response to that nonsense:

The phrase, Female Rage has an intimately rich history:

Some of the first accounts of female rage dates to the Italian renaissance. To be clear, women in those days were not allowed to become painters- the arts were seen as the domain of men. They did not believe that women have rich inner lives capable of delivering the type of artistic innovation with which renaissance men were obsessed.

However, rebels abounded, through the might of their fucking rage. Several women created some of the most compellingly emotional paintings I’ve ever fucking seen. They did it without permission, without financial support, and often under the threat of punishment. They did it as a protest. In paintings like “Timoclea Killing Her Rapist” by Elisabetta Sirani (1659), and another by Artemisia Gentileschi “Slaying of Holofernes” (1612) as it depicts the bravery of Judith as she slayed a traveling warlord out to rape Judith and enslave her city. The painting often is referred to as a way Artemisia was envisioning herself as slaying her rapist. These paintings were used against these women as proof that they were unfeminine- and far too angry. Both these women suffered immensely for their audacity to call attention to the violation men perpetrated on them. Female Rage bleeds off these paintings- bleeds right through to the bone-deep acknowledgement of the injustice women faced being barred from the arts and having their humanity violated in such a sick way. Both women were hated- and considered far too angry.

In philosophy, also as early as the 15th century, an example of female rage is a philosophical text, often hailed as one of the first feminists works in the western world, written by Christine de Pizan titled The City of Ladies (1405). She wrote in protest on the state of women- writing that “men who have slandered the opposite sex out of envy have usually know women who were cleverer and more virtuous than they are” (“The City of Ladies”). People mocked her all her life- but she stood fast to her convictions. She was widowed at a young age with children to feed and the men wouldn’t let women have jobs! She wrote this book and sold it so that she could feed her family- and to protest the treatment of women as lesser than men. Her work was called aggressive and unkempt- they said she was far too angry.

In the 18th century, a young Mary Wollstonecraft wrote, A Vindication of the Right of Women ( 1792) upon learning that the civil rights won in the French Revolution did not extend to women! She wrote in protest of the unjust ways other philosophers (like Rousseau) spoke about the state of women- as if they were lesser. She wrote to advocate for women’s right to education, which they did not yet have the right to! She wrote to advocate for the advancement of women’s ability to have their own property and their own lives! The reception of this text, by the general public, lead to a campaign against Wollstonecraft- calling her “aggressive” and far too angry.

Moving into modernity, the 1960’s, and into literary examples, Maya Angelou publishes I know why the caged Bird Sings (1969) in which she discusses the fraught youth of a girl unprotected in the world. It beautifully, and heart-wrenchingly, described growing up in the American South during the 1930’s as it subjected her to the intersection of racism and sexism. The story is an autobiographical account of her own childhood, which explains how patriarchal social standards nearly destroyed her life. Upon the reception of her book, men mostly called it “overly emotional” and far too angry. Maya Angelou persisted. She did not back down from the honesty with which she shared her life- the raw, painful truth. With Literature, she regained a voice in the world.

Interwoven into each of the examples I have pulled out here, is the underlying rage of women who want to be seen as human beings, with souls, dreams and hopes, yet are not seen as full members of society at the behest of men. They take all that rage, building up in their souls, and shift it to create something beautiful: positive change. Each of these cases, I have outlined above, made remarkable strides for the women as a whole- we still feel the impact of their work today. They were so god-damn passionate, so full of righteous anger, it burst out into heart-stopping, culture-shifting art. Feminine rage is therefore grounded in experiences of injustice and abuse- yet marked too by its ability to advocate for women's rights. It cannot be historically transmogrified away from these issues- though Taylor Swift is doing her best to assert female rage as pitifully dull, full of self-deprecation, and sadness over simply being single or losing money. She trivializes the seriousness with which women have pled their cases of real, painful injustice and suffering to the masses time and time again. The examples above deal with subjects of rape, governmental tyranny, and issues of patriarchally inspired social conditioning to accept women as less human than men. It is a deadly serious topic, one in which women have raised their goddamn voices for centuries to decry- and say instead, “I am human, I matter, and men have no right to violate my mind, body, or soul.”

The depictions of female rage over the last few centuries, crossing through many cultures, is an array of outright anger, fearsome rage, and into utter despair. The one unyielding, solid underpinning, however, is that the texts are depicting the complete agency of the women in question. The one uniting aspect of female rage is that it must be a reaction to injustice; instead of how male depictions of female rage function, (think Ophelia), the women are the agents of their art with female made- female rage. They push forth the meaning through their own will- not as subjects of male desires or abuses, but as their own selves. That is what makes the phrase so empowering. They are showing their souls as a form of protest to the men who treat women like we have no soul to speak of.

Taylor Swift’s so-called female rage is a farce in comparison. Let’s look at an example: “Mad Woman” (2020). I pull this example, and not something from her TTPD set, because this is one of the earliest examples of her using the phrase female rage to describe her dumb music. (Taylor Swift talking about "mad woman" | folklore : the long pond studio sessions (youtube.com)

The lyrics from “Mad Woman” read “Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy/... And when you say I seem angry, I get more angry”

How exactly is agreeing with someone that you are “crazy” a type of female rage in which she’s protesting the patriarchy. The patriarchy has a long history of calling women “insane” if they do not behave according to the will of men. So, how is her agreeing with the people calling her crazy- at all subversive in the way that artworks, typically associated with concept of female rage, are subversive. What is she protesting? NOTHING.

Then later, she agrees, again, that she's “angry.” The issue I draw here is that she’s not actually explicating anything within the music itself that she’s angry about- she just keeps saying she's angry over and over, thus the line falls flat. The only thing this anger connects to is the idea of someone calling her angry- which then makes her agree that she is... angry. So, despite it being convoluted, it’s also just not actually making any kind of identifiable point about society or the patriarchy- so again, I beg, what on Earth makes this count as Female Rage?

In essence, she is doing the opposite of what the examples above showcase. In letting an outside, presumably male, figure tell Taylor Swift what she is feeling, and her explicit acceptance of feeling “crazy” and “angry,” she is ultimately corroborating the patriarchy not protesting it. Her center of agency comes from assignment of feelings outside of herself and her intrinsic agreement with that assignment; whereas female rage is truly contingent on the internal state, required as within our own selves, of female agency. As I stated above, the women making female rage art must have an explicit agency throughout the work. Taylor Swift’s song simply does not measure up to this standard.

Her finishing remarks corroborates the fact that she's agreeing with this patriarchal standard of a "mad" or crazy woman:

"No one likes a mad woman/ You made her like that"

Again, this line outsources agency through saying "you made her like that" thus removing any possibility of this song being legitimate female rage. There is simply no agency assigned to the woman in the song- nor does the song ever explicitly comment on a social issue or protestation of some grievous injury to women's personhood.

She honestly not even being clever- she's just rhyming the word “crazy” with “crazy.” Then later rhyming “angry” with “angry.” Groundbreaking stuff here.

Perhaps Taylor Swift is angry, in “Mad Woman,” but it is not the same type of rage established in the philosophical concept of female rage of which art historians, philosophers, and literary critics speak. Instead, it is the rage of a businesswoman that got a bad deal- but it is not Female Rage as scholars would identify it. In “Mad Woman” I fear her anger is shallow, and only centered on material loss- through damaging business deals or bad business partners. She is not, however, discussing what someone like Christine de Pizan was discussing by making a case for the concept that woman also have souls like men do. In her book, she had to argue that women have souls, because men were unconvinced of that. Do you see the difference? I am saying that Swift’s concerns are purely monetary and material, whereas true examples of female rage center on injustice done against their personhood- as affront to human rights. Clearly, both things can make someone mad- but I’d argue the violation of human rights is more serious- thus more deserving of the title “Female Rage.”

Simply put, Taylor Swift is not talking about anything serious, or specific, enough to launch her into the halls of fame for "Female Rage" art. She's mad, sure, but she's mad the way a CEO gets mad about losing a million dollars. She's not mad about women's position in society- or even just in the music industry.

She does this a lot. The album of “Reputation” was described as female rage. Songs in “Folklore” were described as female rage. Now, she’s using the term to describe TTPD, which is the most self-centered, ego-driven music I’ve heard in a long time.

Comparing the injustice, and complete subjugation, of women’s lives- to being dumped by a man or getting a bad deal- wherein she is still one of the most powerful women of the planet- is not only laughable, but offensive.

608 notes · View notes

malicious-compliance-esq · 13 days ago

Text

New year, new boggling double standards in The Patriot to disentangle! Once again @lyledebeast delivers a cogent and detailed analysis of the multi-barreled messaging of this often puzzling film. I'm nodding vigorously—and entirely chilled—at this observation:

Even beyond the Martin family, the film only stresses the purity and innocence of childhood in cases where the children involved are dead or about to be.

Bleak! And entirely accurate. Perhaps especially apt as well in light of current global events in which the plight of children in clear and present danger of losing their lives gets sensationalized and commodified in times of catastrophic upheaval while often going unexplored during times of relative stability.

Man of the House or Stupid Little Boy?: Eighteenth Century Childhood and The Patriot

A new year, a new semester, a new analysis post about The Patriot: the circle of life on this blog!

One of the most stretched, contorted, and ill-defined concepts in this film is that of childhood. "I'm not a child!" twenty-something Gabriel Martin shouts at his father. "YOU'RE MY CHILD!" Benjamin Martin hollers back louder, because that's how you win an argument when firearms aren't involved. By any standard besides a subjective parental one, Gabriel is further from being a child than any other offspring featured in the film. He's a veteran of three years of war. He's soon to be married. In modern times he would've totaled three cars by now (probably trucks given this is South Carolina).

The other character explicitly framed as a "child" is Thomas Martin, who is fifteen. The redcoat of his father's that he tries on is not too far off from fitting. While fifteen did represent the lower end in the age range of Continental soldiers during the American Revolution, Colonel Tavington would have had regular occasion to kill such soldiers while they were simultaneously trying to kill him. Why, then, does he later refer to Thomas as "that stupid little boy?"

Meanwhile, Benjamin Martin is so agog and aghast that a British officer would shoot an infant babychild just for trying to save his brother that he gets his remaining children to safe place and then . . . wait, no. No, he very much does not do that. Instead, he runs into the burning house and comes out with an armload of muskets that he distributes to his next oldest boys, takes them to the woods, and orders them to shoot as many men in Gabriel's escort as they can, starting with the officers. And they do so with more accuracy than any of the trained British regulars shooting back at them.

Samuel Martin reacts to these events the way we would expect of any sane person a child: he weeps in terror while reloading for his brother. His slightly older brother Nathan, though, is chillingly okay with the whole ordeal. He later tells their father "I'm glad I killed [those men]. I'm glad." When Benjamin follows Gabriel back to the war, he leaves Nathan in charge, "Take care of your Aunt Charlotte." Nathan evidently takes this order very seriously. He is the first to alert his family to the Green Dragoons' arrival because he is sitting on the front porch with a gun when they ride up! While his aunt and siblings are hiding in the cellar, he's contemplating taking a shot at Tavington about 100 years before that occurs to his father. As far as almost everyone in the film is concerned, Nathan is a little adult. The only character to reprimand him for his age-inappropriate behavior is, ironically, Abigale, who as a free Black woman also has less authority over him than any of the other adults.

What makes Nathan so much less of child than his older brothers? Tavington never kills him. Even beyond the Martin family, the film only stresses the purity and innocence of childhood in cases where the children involved are dead or about to be. The wide-angle shot of Tavington after he enters the church reveals a row of children standing in front of their parents, waiting to be burned to death. Before John Billings' suicide, the camera lingers on his son's dead body. Who knew arming small children with wooden weapons wasn't an effective means of home defense against the Green Dragoons? That the film visits the consequences of sending a boy to do a man's job fall on someone other than Benjamin Martin, even though both of his sons die doing things he refused to do himself, makes this point very easy to overlook.

The problem is not really that children in this film do things no sane person would ask of a child today. Childhood was shorter in the eighteenth century. People we would today regard has children took on all manner of adult responsibilities, including fighting for their country or arming themselves to protect their homes from foxes, wolves, and the British. The problem arises when the film frames Tavington as killing children out of the wickedness of his heart and five minutes later gives two children a higher body count than any British soldier but himself (and, arguably, General Cornwallis). Villains in Westerns often rationalize killing the children of their foes as investing in a future in which those children do not grow up and come after them. Tavington could argue the same with more merit because Martin's children obviously do not have to grow up to create problems for him. He could, and more likely would, see Thomas not as an unarmed child but as a young man who could very easily arm himself. Instead, he explicitly underscores Thomas's childishness so Martin, and the audience, will know he knows how evil he is.

I hate this movie!

#correct opinions #lyledebeast #media analysis #the patriot #william tavington #gabriel martin #thomas martin #nathan martin #childhood #18th century #american revolution #villain discourse #double standards #evil redcoat pipeline #yes good

6 notes · View notes

demifiendrsa · 7 months ago

Text

youtube

The Rose of Versailles (2025 movie) - Teaser PV2 (with English captions)

The Rose of Versailles anime film will hit Japanese theaters in early Spring 2025.

Poster

Cast

Miyuki Sawashiro as Oscar François de Jarjayes

Aya Hirano as Marie Antoinette

Toshiyuki Toyonaga as André Grandier

Kazuki Kato as Hans Axel von Fersen

Staff

Original Creator: Riyoko Ikeda

Director: Ai Yoshimura

Screenplay: Tomoko Komparu

Character Design: Mariko Oka

Music Producer: Hiroyuki Sawano

Music: Hiroyuki Sawano, Kohta Yamamoto

Animation Production: MAPPA Production

Synopsis

Oscar François de Jarjayes, raised as the "son" and heir of a general's family, masquerades as a beautiful woman in men's clothing. Marie Antoinette arriving from neighboring Austria as a bride to become a noble and graceful queen.. Oscar's servant and childhood friend, the commoner André Grandier. Hans Axel von Fersen, a handsome and intelligent count from Sweden. They meet in Versailles, France in the prosperous late 18th Century and live their respective destinies beautifully while being tossed about by the tides of times.

#The Rose of Versailles #The Rose of Versailles 2025 #The Rose of Versailles movie #film #anime #anime film

140 notes · View notes

ancientcharm · 2 months ago

Text

Optimus princeps

Marcus Ulpius Trajan was born on 18 September 53 in Hispania Baetica ( Andalusia, Spain) in the ancient city Italica. He stood out for his military and political brilliance, his uprightness and fight against corruption, his austere character, and his philanthropy.

He was the only Roman emperor to whom he granted the title Optimus (The Best). With him the so-called Golden Age of the Roman Empire began. With him also began the so-called era of provincial emperors.

Trajan created Institutio Alimentaria, a program that helped orphaned and poor children throughout the Roman Empire. It provided food and subsidized education.

He conquered Dacia (Roman Dacia would evolve over time to give rise to present-day Romania) and defeated the Parthian Empire by conquering vast territories. During his reign the Roman Empire reached its maximum extension, setting its eastern border on the Tigris River and not on the Euphrates as it was before Trajan.

Trajan is mentioned in The Romanian National Anthem. In Romania the name TRAIAN is very common.

He was the only Roman emperor, before Constantine, who was held in high esteem in medieval and Renaissance Christian Europe, even though under his reign Christianity was prohibited (but without bloody persecutions).

Trajan was the last conqueror of Rome; his nephew and successor Hadrian marked the definitive borders of the empire.

"Be more fortunate than Augustus and better than Trajan" It became the greeting to emperors

Trajan spent his childhood during the reign of Nero. At the age of 15 he experienced the first civil war of the imperial era and the year of the 4 emperors. He made a career in the army under the principate of Vespasian and his sons Titus and Domitian; Was close and loyal to the Flavian Dynasty.

Following the assassination of Domitian in September 96, Nerva was proclaimed emperor.

In 97 a revolt by members of the Praetorian Guard forced the elderly and childless Nerva to adopt as his heir and successor the popular Trajan, then governor of Germania Superior.

Nerva died on 28 January 98 and Trajan succeeded him. One of his first acts was the construction of a limes to secure the Decuman Fields, Germanic lands on the right side of the Rhine, which had been won under Domitian.

Trajan arrived in Rome two years after being proclaimed emperor, having secured the Rhenish frontier. He was received with great joy.

Trajan's Forum in Rome was built by the architect Apollodorus of Damascus, chosen by Trajan himself. It included a basilica, two libraries, and after Trajan's death, a temple was built in his honour. Trajan's Column is the only structure that has survived.

The column was inaugurated on May 12, 113 and consists of a long spiral frieze describing the Dacian Wars (101-106)

The Alcántara Bridge, Extremadura, Spain, widely regarded as a masterpiece of Roman engineering, was built during the reign of Trajan. Photo: Dantla from de.wikipedia - Own work, GFDL

His wife Pompeia Plotina. Ph: Carole Raddato. And his niece Salonia Matidia. Ph: Louvre Museum , CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Trajan was married to Pompeia Plotina, who according to Pliny the Younger "Added to Trajan's virtues of modesty and nobility of spirit her own, for she was kind, intellectual and benevolent."

They had no offspring but Trajan had a single niece, Salonia Matidia, whom he and his wife loved as a daughter and in fact she lived with them since she was 10 years old when her father died.

This lady is the key to understanding how Trajan's successors, supposedly adopted by choice only for their qualities, are linked by blood or marriage ties related to Salonia Matidia. In the so-called "Antonine Dynasty" (name given by 18th century European historians) or dynasty of the "adoptive Emperors" all except Nerva were related to each other and to Trajan through women, either through collateral kinship, marriage or both.

Ulpius-Aelia is the correct name for the dynasty that begins with Trajan and ends with Commodus. And in the list of the "five good emperors" modern historians should eliminate Nerva, who did nothing good - and appointed Trajan as his successor under duress - and include instead Lucius Verus, co-emperor with Marcus Aurelius, who ruled for eight years and was a good ruler.

Trajan died of illness between 8 / 9 August 117 in Selinus (Cilicia). His wife placed the urn containing his ashes on Trajan's Column. He was deified by the Senate.

Trajan's Column, Rome. Photo: Nikon Z7II, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

The Trajan's Column was an absolute novelty in ancient art and became the most avant-garde work of Roman historical relief.

#history #trajan #roman empire #roman emperors #sculpture #ancient rome

69 notes · View notes

hazellvsq · 1 year ago

Text

hazel drawing her friends

she doesn't draw leo's face bc she's drawn that same face before and its very weird for her but she'll draw faraway shots of him steering the ship like an 18th century sea captain

she drew festus too, asleep but still frightening

piper's self conscious about being drawn but hazel loves her and loves how she looks and spends a lot of time trying to capture what makes piper so magnetic

she herself is kind of self conscious about drawing reyna or annabeth but she draws them in each other's clothes - reyna in jorts, annabeth in a toga and cape - and they both think its funny as hell

hazel draws reyna's dogs too. they pose for her and everything.

obviously arion is her top model

she draws frank all the time and it makes him blush. she'll draw frank drinking juice and caption it "frank drinking juice"

she drew frank in a world war one uniform for childhood crush reasons but felt like something was missing so she drew him in a plane that was about to crash and ended up getting super invested in the plane detail so its a very dramatic drawing. frank was like "uuhhh why am i getting shot down?" and she was like "clearly you don't understand art???"

she draws nico and gives him better hair bc she's nice

she also gives him a cool vintage car in some pictures. or a vespa.

she won't do a self-portrait

she draws percy destroying the glacier, like if the son of neptune cover was drawn by a non-professional artist.

she had one drawing of jason based on the day that she met him at camp jupiter. it was not a good day for her bc she was newly resurrected and very scared. it is a very good technical drawing of jason, and he looks powerful and strong, but he has intense eyes with no expression behind them and there is a very unnerving feeling to the drawing itself.

to piper and leo it reminds them a little of when jason had amnesia, but this is a drawing of him before that, which is not quite accurate to how hazel perceived him or to how he really was. its probably hazel's best work but it makes her and everyone a little uncomfortable.

#i...have a lot of thoughts on hazel's first week at camp jupiter and her relationship with jason hence the last two points #i also have a lot of thoughts on frank and piper being her art muses #hazel levesque #piper mclean #leo valdez #frank zhang #percy jackson #annabeth chase #jason grace #nico di angelo #reyna avila ramirez arellano

432 notes · View notes

byeolbeloved · 10 months ago

Text

Letters to Cupid -Kang Yeosang

Pairings> soldier!yeosang x typist!reader

Genre> childhood friends to strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, use of flashbacks, slightly suggestive, setting takes place around 18th century

Summary> for centuries, women named cupids worked as typists to write letters on behalf of senders who couldn't write themselves. You were always the writer but never the receiver for a love letter, yearning to be picked up by a knight. What you didn't expect was for this knight to have a familiar set of eyes, only this time lost from the innocence they once had.

Words from pupa : This fic is inspired by the anime Violet Evergarden! Also note that the writings in small italics are meant to be flashbacks. I had so much fun writing this so I really hope you enjoy it <3 The picture is also fanart I made myself hehe so I hope you like that too ^^

The typewriter clicked away, following a warm melody of the woman reminiscing her adventures with the other piece of her that is now battling the screams and horror of man. The warm scenery of her words contrasted the thunderous roars outside. The weather had no mercy on lovers under the moonlight.

"Please tell him I love him and I'll always be waiting for him" the woman said glass eyed.

She's a gorgeous woman, with light make up and well done hair, although judging from the purple under her eyes you can tell she's had restless nights, tearful even, by her pink nose that was already prominent as she walked through the door.

You always thought about how hard it must be to have your lover be in the military. You've seen many cases of these couples working as a typist. You had at least 10 letters a day of women writing to their husbands on how badly they miss them, some not knowing their ashes have become part of the land they fight to protect.

"He will appreciate this letter dearly, Elenor. I will make sure to send it out by Friday" you say with a smile embossing a wax seal on the letter.

"Oh thank you Cupid. I was never good at using the typewriter so when an old friend told me about you I practically came here as fast as I could. It's been a month since he's been away, we've never been separated for this long.."

"It must be so hard for you both. He'll be just fine El... I see the love in your eyes, he'll come back to them"

Education was a privilege, hence the reason why so many people were illiterate. For centuries women named "Cupids" wrote letters on behalf of senders who weren't able to write to their loved ones themselves or simply didn't know how to express their emotions on paper. It started from a voluntary organisation but has now turned into a whole company, well known throughout the land.

You were born into the world of literature. Your father was a writer and your mother was a book illustrator. Work being the opening chapter for their own love story. From the moment you were born, books heavily dominated your life. Literally. Because even from the scene of your birth, where your mother delivered you unexpectedly at the house you grew up in, you were wrapped in ripped pages from books- that being the first thing they could grab instead of a blanket at such a chaotic scene of panic.

You grew up with your mother reading you books and you accompanied your father while he wrote. Although you loved literature, writing your own book wasn't something you saw yourself doing. You much preferred experiencing a realistic event rather than coming up with a story, which is why you fell in love with this job.

You get to write true emotion while hearing another person's story and relationships. And you were clearly good at portraying what people wanted to express as you had tons of people personally asking for you to write for them.

Love; a topic you could rant on and on about. You dreamt about being picked up by a knight, running away from reality just to intertwine in each other's soul.

However, you weren't such a hopeless romantic as you were very selective with the guys you talked to, let alone dated. No one has ever made you feel like a princess getting saved by the prince. Maybe reality isn't like the books, however, you felt that there must be someone in this lifetime who could make you feel like that.

The night was dark. Dark as the swelling wave of the ocean before the rising winds, when it bends its head near the coast. Rain fell hard against the concrete floor and the wind was so sharp it could cut you.

The girl shut her eyes, trying to count sheep to calm her heartbeat but the sound of the rain only pictured her sheep drowning in the night alongside her.

"The rain won't get us here" spoke the boy, flashing her a smile that emphasized the pink red mark by his left eye. The red mark he told her was from a kiss from cupid after she pointed out how it looked like a heart. They were under the awning of a closed store.

"The rain is scary Yeosang" she frowned.

"It's only water" he held his hand out to the rain and let it get wet "see? I'm fine"

"I know but I don't like the noises"

"Then don't listen to the noises. You can just listen to me" he wiped his wet hand on the side of his pants and grabbed onto hers.

"I will protect you from the rain. I promise I will always hold your hand when it rains Y/N"

“Sorry I’m late, I just finished up with my last client for the day. Did I miss anything?” you place down your coat on the chair back.

“Only Jia swooning over mailman Tony again” Sakura chuckled while sipping her coffee.

“Seriously, when are you going to make a move? He might be single” Maya continued mouthful with a sandwich.

“Oh shush there shall be no romance at work. We have a business relationship and that’s how it’s going to stay. Now let’s get started with the meeting so we can head home before the weather gets worse.” Jia snaps and everyone hides their smiles at her shyness.

“Okay, this meeting is to just remind everyone about plans for next week. We will be accompanying commander Chan- everyone remembers him right? From last year. We will be writing letters for his unit, he has a different unit now. Make sure to pack warm clothes sinc-”

“Since there will be lower temperature in the North” Sakura and Maya said together in a monotone voice. “We’ve done this before Jia we knowww~” Sakura whines.

“Just relax and look out for the hot single soldiers” Maya giggles to Sakura who is now poking at Jia’s side.

“Business! This is business guys! We're going there for work. Plus, these hot guys are depending on us to bring back their messages to their families. No fooling around” Jia makes clear.

Once a year your team will visit military camps to write for soldiers. You’re usually there for 3 days excluding travel. Apart from some of the men being touch starved and looking as if they’ve never seen a woman in their life- most of them are really nice. Last time they even set out a mini farewell and thank you party before your departure.

The crisp sound of snow beneath your feet and cold sensation on your nose definitely woke you up from your nap on the way here. It actually felt quite nice, your surroundings bright from the white snow despite the sun not yet risen and the cold air felt like a splash of water to your face in the early morning. All nice except for the sound of Sakura and Maya’s whines from how their boots weren’t fit for the snow. This is exactly why Jia spent so much time whining about clothing.

The soldiers shared cabins or tents. You girls too got your own cabin to share- unfortunately quite small so you’ll have to put up with Maya’s snores throughout the night, however big enough for the 4 of you. The main area had its own cabin. That’s where the soldiers mostly hang out and eat.

As you girls made your way to the main area, commander Chan introduced you to everyone. There seemed to be at least 40 men in there, thankfully all divided into units so it was easier to organise when you’ll be working with who.

Everyone gave you a warm welcome. You girls spent the first hour chatting with some of them, or you could say flirting for Maya and Sakura, before going into your cabin and unpacking your stuff.

Everyone was really sweet. Two soldiers, a long haired guy with a mole under his eye and another slightly taller than him with a dorito-like physique showed you around the area and let you know the schedule for breakfast, training and lunch. The area was quite open, you could see yourself getting comfortable here as it was very quiet. However, during all this you felt a pair of eyes on you. Though looking around you never saw anyone who could be staring.

“Slow down Yeo! It’s really rocky here” the little girl pants, trying to keep up with the energetic boy in front of her. He’s practically waddling like an excited maltese dog that’s about to get a treat.

“Just a little more, come on!” he grabs onto her hand speeding up her steps, now reaching his pace.

The two youngsters reach the top of the hill, overlooking the dazzling sight of flowers in different shapes and colours spread out across the field.

The girl lets out a gasp eyes sparkling “This is… what you wanted to show me?”

“What do you think?”

“Yeo this is…. Beautiful” her eyes scan across the field, completely forgetting the distant yelling from her mom she was worrying about 15 minutes ago from why she took so long to get back home after school.

“It’s gorgeous” says the boy, but he’s not looking at the scenery of flowers. He’s looking directly at her. Swimming in the ocean of her sparkling eyes reflecting the warm colours from the sunset.

You are gorgeous he thought to himself.

The day was busy. Each unit who was on their breaks got their letters done and even though it was only day one, you managed to get lots done already. It was already pitch black outside and everyone was already tucked into their cabins.

Maybe you were still in work-mode but your body had no intentions to rest as you couldn’t stop tossing and turning in your bunk bed so you decided to take a step outside. You walked over to a corner with bright pink flowers contrasting the white snow, standing tall and so youthful.

“So beautiful…” you whispered, crouching to touch the soft pedals. They look like they have just bloomed.

“Cyclamen” a deep voice from behind you startles you, letting out a light yelp from you as you turn around quickly. Your yelp almost turns into a loud gasp as you quickly identify the figure owning that deep voice.

His hair is a light chocolate brown, long enough to be tucked behind his ears but not in a I haven’t thought about cutting my hair type of way- it was well maintained. He was taller than you but not enough so that you’re practically looking up. His body was clearly fit, arm muscles very prominent even from his camo print thick jacket. His skin was pale. So pale it looked like milk. So pale it emphasized the pink mark by his left eye.

Kang Yeosang.

You had no doubt this was the same boy who used to have thick pitch black hair, sometimes patchy bangs from the self haircut his sister used to give him. The same boy who looked at everyone with sparkly eyes and clapped his hands together when he laughed.

This was your Kang Yeosang.

“Those flowers are Cyclamen” he said expressionless, hands in his pockets.

You don’t know if it's the cold air drying your eyes or your overwhelming emotion but you start to feel tears forming, so hot and full of sentiment they almost burn your skin. “Yeosang…?” you whisper but it comes out shaky.

“They mostly bloom in cold weather” he says, still in the same stance.

“Are there any more flowers around here?” you sniffle out tilting your head.

“I’ve seen snow roses around here before. Would you like to see them with me someday?”

“I’d love to” you said with a smile, now earning a smile from him.

He takes his hands out of his pockets and steps closer to you, pulling you into a hug which you gracefully accept, your arms latching around his neck almost a bit too tight.

“Hello Y/N” and that's your breaking point. You start sobbing into his chest muffling out I miss yous to which he responds with a hand on your head, caressing it gently.

“I’m here”

The walk was quiet and heavy. Each step representing minutes lost from each other.

The girl is the first to break the icy silence “can’t you wait at least till next year? We just graduated”

“Y/N this isn’t my choice to make, I don’t have any other choice. It’s what I’m supposed to do” the boy says against his wishes.

“When will I be able to see you again?” the girl now looks at him glass eyed.

“I don’t know” he lowers his head but quickly looks at her holding her hand. “Hey, no matter how long it will take, I will always be here, yea? I promise Y/N”

“Please don’t break that promise Yeo..”

The following days you and Yeosang were practically glued together when you had the time. You caught up on each other's life events and even reminisced about your childhood together. It was almost like you were kids again, except you noticed how serious Yeosang is now.

You don’t expect him to have that same innocence as he had when you were younger. He’s a grown man now and also a soldier. Not a particularly happy go lucky type of job. However, apart from teeth smiles while covering his mouth with his hand, you haven’t heard him laugh yet. You missed it. You missed the days when you both ran around giggling at any little thing. Is that boy you loved, lost?

“But yea, let’s just say leaving a half opened can of soup in a tent for 2 weeks isn’t a great idea” he scratched his head and lightly chuckled.

You laughed at his stories with his cabinmates. So far he has only told you about silly fun stories with his friends, apart from him explaining the basic routine of what they do in training. You were glad he was able to make fond memories as a soldier, especially since you knew how nervous he was joining the military.

But something about you knew that wasn’t all. Has he really been doing well? What about the times he's been in battle? Has he been greatly injured before? Broken a bone maybe? Does he miss his family?

Did he ever think about you?

“Yeo…” you placed your spoon down. The main cabin was far too loud for both of you to have a conversation so you and him chose to stay in his tent for breakfast and dinners. His cabinmates barely stayed there unless it was for sleep so you had all the privacy you wanted.

“How are you? Really”

“I’m doing well”

“No Yeo, I mean about everything. Do you like it here? Don’t you miss home?”

“Home? Well… Mom occasionally sends letters, I’ve visited sometimes but travel is so long I’d only have a day with them till I have to come back so… I’ve stopped visiting.” How long has it been since he’s had a home cooked meal?

“This definitely isn’t luxury heh, but I’m used to it Y/N. Don’t worry about me, I know what I’m doing here”

“Do you ever think about… me? Us?” immediately his gaze softens to your words. This is probably the first time you’ve seen a genuine expression on his face since being here. His hand is gently placed on your thigh and he brings his face closer to you.

“Of course Y/N, I told you I’ll always be here. I promised” his eyes burn into your soul and your gaze meets his birthmark. Your finger moves by itself and goes to gently touch it.

“I don’t see you anymore Yeosang… everything is so different”

“I know. It’s hard. This is all very hard but we are going to work this out Y/N”

Your faces are so close together you can practically taste his breath. His eyes land to your lips and for a second you could see the pupils of his eyes grow. He slowly breaks the space between you and you close your eyes, expecting to feel a touch on your lips until he breaks off the moment with a whisper “I want to write a letter.”

“I don’t understand thissssss~ let’s just take a break”

“We’ve already taken 2 breaks. Here, I started the first step for you, now remember what we did for question 6, it’s basically the same thing” the boy hands her the sheet of paper.

“Yeo I appreciate your help but maybe this is a sign from god that I should just give up on Math” the girl slouches on her seat kicking her feet.

“Math isn’t that hard, you just need to focus. Now come on we still have 5 pages left.”

“5 PAGES!? I might as well throw myself off the window”

“If you finish this in the next hour” he leans in close to her ear “I might give you a kiss” he leans back to his chair with a smug look on his face.

You’d think the girl wore face paint on her face from the deep red that was now formed. Without a word she picks up a pencil and writes away on her paper.

“Damn you Yeosang”

Some people get frustrated with slow walkers in front of them, slow drivers or even someone talking way too calmly, but the way Yeosang is working the typewriter makes you want to snatch it from him and do the job yourself.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to write the letter for you?”

“It’s fine I got this” he continues on with his slow pace.

“Who are you writing that letter to anyway?”

“Just someone”

“Who is just someone?”

“A person I know”

“Who is this person you know?”

“You don’t know them”

“Pleaseee Yeooo~” you lean in closer to him “I’ll give you a kiss if you tell me who” you giggle remembering his little tactic he used to use on you in school.

“Mmmm I’ll think about it” you huff in frustration and he laughs.

He laughs.

Your worries of losing the boy you loved dearly completely vanished as you finally see that innocent boy back. His laugh sounded like the doorbell of a childhood house, where kids would run to see if daddy is home. The last bell ring at school, when kids ran home to show mommy what they drew. The sound of the ice cream truck song amplifying as it rolled up from down the street. The clicking sound of riding your first bike, parents cheering in the background for balancing without training wheels.

He sounded like childhood and you felt like a child again.

In what felt like forever, Yeosang finished his letter. Sealing the paper into an envelope ready to be read by this mystery person you so badly wanted to know.

“Okay I’ll take it and make sure to send it out. Make sure to write the address.” you reach your hand out but he doesn't move.

“Oh no I want to keep it”

“What?”

“I want to keep the letter.”

“What do you mean? Don’t you want to send it to that person?”

“Not yet.”

“We can withhold it and send it at any given time you want”

“It’s fine, I’ll send it myself”

Him protecting this letter made you even more curious as to who it was for. Surely he didn’t just write something for fun. Who was this friend? Was it a girl? Or possibly a lover? Surely not. Especially not when he almost just kissed you a while ago.

He promised. You’re just overthinking. Right?

It was your last day with the soldiers. You only had a couple of letters to finish and by nightfall you and the girls were set off to travel back home. Absolute no bone in your body wanted to go back home. This meant being separated from Yeosang again and you weren’t ready to let him go yet, you only just reunited with him.

“Y/N, you have a visitor waiting” Maya points to the door, only to see Yeosang waiting for you.

“I have a few more letters to write th-” you’re shushed by Maya when she lightly shoves you out of the room “Don’t worry, we got this, you go enjoy your last moments with lover boy” she whispers the last part although Yeosang surely heard judging by the way he looked away.

“Ooo he’s a shy lover boy too” Maya says before closing the door, you can still hear her giggles through the wall as you’re now left alone with Yeosang.

“Shall we go?” he quietly says.

“Yeah, where are we going?”

“You’ll see”

The two of you slowly walk side by side, occasionally bumping the sides of your arms. There isn’t much talking but the silence is comfortable. Almost too comfortable that you forget this is the last time you get to examine his features before the final goodbye for god knows how long it will be again.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when Yeosang hands you a big white flower, a snow rose. “This is the snow rose I told you about” he said with a smile gently handing it over to you.

“Yeos-”

“Marry me Y/N”

What.

Time stops for a second. A long second. Even the birds stop chirping and the wind halts. You aren’t sure what just happened but your heart knows for sure that it’s a big deal as it beats so hard, destined to break out of you and reach his own, intertwining with his and merging into one.

“What did you say?” you mutter quietly.

In contrast with your tone, Yeosang is confident. His chin is up high, shoulders back and there's a look in his eyes that show no sign of hesitation.

“I want you to marry me Y/N” he takes a step closer, and another, and another, till you’re now backed up into the rough surface of a tree.

“I’m going to make this work, I’ll find a way to leave this place if I have to but Y/N, I can’t let you go again.” he cups your face gently and swipes his thumb across your cheek “I’m done keeping promises and making you wait, I want to be with you Y/N, only you” he rests his forehead against yours.

“Come home to me Yeosang” you breathe onto his lips before locking them together.

Your lips dance together so full of passion and need it almost feels as if your bodies are intertwining into one. You feel his small smile through the kiss as you deepen it, locking your hands in his hair while his explores the sides of your body.

Cold air hits your belly as he lifts up your shirt to slide his hand against your skin, caressing your chest. If you weren’t so lost in the kiss you would have noticed that he was practically spelling his name across your chest with his hand movements.

Remembering that you both need to breathe, he’s the first to break the kiss. You’re both a panting mess but he manages you let out a chuckle “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Yes in every language Yeosang. I will marry you” you smile out taking in his lips once again.

You asked for a rose, but Yeosang gave you a whole garden.

Two years later

“Tell me Cupid, what should I tell her? I’m so scared. What if she’s waiting for another man?” the man from across you says, blowing his nose into his now 8th tissue in the past 10 minutes.

“Sir Walker, you clearly love her right?”

“Yes! Oh heavens more than anything, I-I’d kill for her, I’d crawl on my knees for he-” he sighs taking a breath “I don’t imagine a life without her”

“Then fight for her” you say softly.

“She’s lands away from me Cupid! How will I be a man to her if I cant even reach for her?”

“Make that happen. You said you would kill and crawl for her. Put actions to your words Sir Walker and show her you love her. You are living in the same lifetime, right here, right now, don’t regret your choices and lose her. She needs to see you fight for her”

The man breaks down but looks up at you again, composing himself before saying “Have you experienced love Cupid?”

“Everyone experiences love. If not now, one day, just as you wait for love, there is another person waiting for the same. Everyone has someone awaiting them” you softly smile.

“I’ll do it. Tell her I’m coming to get her. I’m not sure when but from today onwards, she will be my focus” the man lets out a broken smile. Broken yet mendable.

“She will be waiting for you Sir Walker” you say before typing away, a paragraph that awaits a new chapter for the couple.

Your night ends with that heartfelt love story. You hope the best for the couple and your heart nearly breaks with his as you also can’t help but think about your person you are waiting for.

The weather outside is mean. Almost in hopes of drowning man in its rage. The thunder roars and you’re left counting sheep in your head- something you’ve been doing ever since you were a kid to calm down.

As you’re walking out of the building Jia calls you from behind “Y/N you have a letter!”

She runs up to you and hands you the letter. “Who is this from?” you ask as you’ve never received a letter before.

“Hm not sure” she looks into a room, clearly distracted by something, or someone as you look at the direction only to see the famous mailman who has been working here years before you joined the company- Tony.

“Um yea I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N I gotta go, bye! Let me know who that letter is from!” she says from a distance practically skipping her way to Tony,

You don't get the chance to even reply to her before she's gone. You look at the letter and there is no address to indicate where it was sent from, which could only mean this letter must have been dropped off by the sender here at the company.

You walk out the building, still sheltered from the awning covering you. Your steps are heavy, unable to move.

It's fine Y/N let's take this slow you thought to yourself deciding to just stand there for a while before making your way home.

You curiously open the letter and start reading it;

Dear Y/N,

How are you? I am writing this letter to you while you are right next to me. I hope you’re not mad about almost kissing you and asking to write a letter instead. It’s just that I wanted to capture my feelings towards you at this given moment, so we can hopefully both look back at this letter.

You asked me if I liked it here. I don’t. I hate the feeling of knowing every movement I make can be my last, and that I won’t be able to say my final goodbye to you. I hate that I go to sleep at night, responsible for another lost man from his lover. I wish I could be able to come home from work and tell you about my day. But what can I tell you? About how many screams I heard? How bloody my hands are after every battle?

You asked me if I think about you. My answer is yes. Painfully yes. I always think about what you could be doing at any time. If you found yourself love. I worry everytime it rains, do you have anyone to hold your hand during thunderstorms? I force myself to repeat your voice in my head because I’m so afraid of forgetting what you sound like. I always remember about the day I took you to the flower field. You looked so beautiful in that moment. So everytime I find a flower, I make sure to stop and admire it, pretending it’s you. Because to me, you are far more beautiful than any flower out there.

I will come home to you Y/N. I promised I would be there. I promised to hold your hand. And I will fulfil my promises, even if it means fighting for my life.

Wait for me my love.

Love,

Yeosang.

“Damn you Yeosang” you chuckled out, a crack in your voice causing tears to slip out. You look up to the sight of the man in reason for these tears. He’s still wearing his uniform, hat covering half his face. He seems to have gotten bigger in physique too. He drops his hat and you smile widely at the sight of his birthmark, now holding smiling eyes.

“It’s raining” he said, reaching out a hand “I’m here to hold your hand.”

You completely ignore the extended hand and crash your body into his for a tight hug. An embrace with no chance of him slipping out.

“You came home” you said into his chest.

“I came to stay”

“And to hold my hand”

“And to hold your hand” he laughs out.

Yeosang was your childhood. Yeosang is your home.

172 notes · View notes

creative-type · 2 years ago

Text

The Romanticism of One Piece

I’m always amazed by how Oda has managed to stay thematically consistent for more than two decades while writing a thousand plus chapter epic about silly pirates having fun chasing their dreams. One Piece, at its core, is about the dawn of a romantic adventure, and its been that way since volume one, chapter one.

But romance is one of those terms whose meaning as shifted over the years and is drastically misunderstood. So what is literary romance, and how does One Piece fit within its framework?

Well buckle up, folks. This is gonna be a long one.

Romanticism as a movement started in the late 18th century, and is described by Isaiah Berlin as the “the greatest single shift in the consciousness of the West”. The modern ideas of childhood, imagination, and sentimentality were born here. It’s a rejection of society’s constraints in favor of impossible yearning for impossible goals. Romantics were restless and passionate, and embraced the magnitude of their feeling over the scientific rigors of the Age of Reason.

Sound familiar?

Romanticism gets its name from the old medieval ballads (themselves written in the Romantic languages) that became popular with the growing movement. The 19th century was a period of incredible change. Industrialization, urbanization, and the development of the middle class were all new. Revolution, both industrial and political, was changing the course of the world forever. The Romantics worshiped heroes of the past (in fact, the term hero worship was coined during this time) and sought a return to nature. William Wordsworth famously lobbied against the building of railways in his beloved Lake District, and much of the art of the time, whether it be painting or poetry, focused heavily on man’s relation with nature

In addition to rebelling against traditional political structures, the Romantics also broke away from the traditional religious teaching, many believing that man found enlightenment not through theology or the bible, but by study and attunement with nature. One of proto-Romantic writer Jean-Jaques Rousseau’s most influential works Emile, or On Education was banned in parts of Europe and even publicly burned due to its ideas on natural religion.

All of this leads to the Romantic pursuit of the sublime. While Enlightenment thinkers would often attempt to remove themselves emotionally from what they were experiencing in order to understand said experience through objective, immutable fact, the Romantics sought emotion, awe, and reverence that transcended rational thought. They celebrated and marveled at the wonders of creation, allowing themselves to be consumed by emotion and experience. These were not stoic people, and its here where One Piece truly begins to shine as a work of Romantic art

The world of One Piece, particularly once the story gets to the Grand Line, is chalk full of impossible wonder and whimsy. Each island visited along the journey is a feast for the eyes, and Oda’s art does each distinct and incredible location every justice. Luffy has no desire to see the boring or everyday, and he has no qualm in expressing his excitement everywhere he goes. Oda has made the conscious decision never to let the reader look into Luffy’s thoughts via thought bubbles, but the audience is still able to connect with him because they are always aware of what he he is feeling. Every smile takes up half his face, every sadness drawn as a sniveling wreck. Logical ideas are routinely rejected in favor of desired experiences, and Luffy himself rejects the opportunity to hear the answer to the series’s biggest questions because to him, the journey is more important.

It’s important that Luffy’s mindset isn’t all that common, even a world as wild and wacky as One Piece. As the Jaya arc proves, Roger’s execution initially inspired a generation of pirates to go out and follow their dreams, but in the twenty years since his death that ideaolgy has crumbled under the weight of a new wave of dreamless pragmaticism, the same way the Romantic movement gave way to the Realists who followed.

Luffy’s Romantic spirit stands out, even amongst the Straw Hat Pirates. Many of the Straw Hat’s character arcs involve Luffy helping to remove the blocks that prevent them from living out their Romantic ideals. As the series progresses, the crew inches towards embodying that freedom of spirit that Luffy exemplifies. What that looks like for each crewmate is different (Romanticism is highly individualistic, after all) but they’re given the opportunity to live out that ideal because of their association with Luffy.

This theme of freedom of expression and pursuit of dreams follows the Straw Hats wherever they go on both the micro and macro level. The Romantic pursuit of self-determination bleeds over nearly every arc with Luffy at its epicenter, until it comes to a crescendo during the Wano arc, when the true nature of Luffy’s fruit comes to light for the first time.

Luffy is the beating heart of One Piece’s Romanticism. He specifically imbues many of the Romantic ideals of childhood, such as innocence, joy, and being unprejudiced by a corrupting society. He’s uncomplicated yet passionate, without a care in the world for what anyone else thinks about him, and because of that disregard for authority he comes off as equal parts wise and naive.

In Emile, Rousseau lays out his idea of childhood education, which doesn’t include a classroom so much as the child’s interaction with the world, emphasizing the senses and building on the child’s own observations and inferences. The Romantic child was instinctual and in tune with nature, and a character like Luffy growing up on the fringes of society while spending most of his time romping around in the woods would not be out of place (see Mary Robinson’s The Savage of Aveyron, based on the real story of a feral boy that had been found in France).

What makes Luffy different is that he never loses that simplicity of character even as he interacts with an increasingly complex world. Yes, he matures both as a person and a captain, bearing the weight of terrible loss and difficult decisions, but he does it still while maintaining that curious mix of selfish desire to do whatever he wants and selfless sacrifice towards the people he cares about. Luffy doesn’t want to be a hero, but remains uncorrupted by the malevolent social hierarchies that rule One Piece’s world.

But for all the ways One Piece is a Romantic story, the philosophy of the series departs in several key places. The Romantics of the late 18th and 19th centuries were reacting to the anxieties brought around by the Industrial Revolution and the subsequent urbanization that came along with it, while One Piece belongs squarely to the post-modern era of the 21st. While both glorify a long-gone past, what that past looks like is very different. One Piece fully embraces technology and progress, as best seen during the conflict between Noland and Calgura in the Skypia flashback. While industrialization is sometimes portrayed negatively (see Wano) it’s just as likely to be seen in a positive light (Water 7), and the mysterious civilization of the Void Century was more technologically advanced than the present day manga, not less.

What’s more important than modernization and technological advance is the ways people use said technology. The beautifully rendered locations along the Straw Hat’s journey are just as likely to be vast stretches of wilderness as bustling metropolises, and that search of wonder and the sublime is equally likely to be found in both.

More importantly, I think, is that the Romantics of old were solitary creatures, brooding and isolated from the people around them. There was a preoccupation of creating art devoid of outside influence. The sublime was a deeply personal experience that by its very nature could not be shared with others. Melancholy, loss, solitude, and death were preoccupations of the Romantic mind, the price of visionary genius being social isolation.

One of the most famous Romantic heroes of the 19th century was Thomas Chatterton, a young genius of a poet who, in the midst of poverty and depression killed himself at the age of 17. He was immortalized in paintings and poems, and his influence can be felt to this day by the persistence of the trope of the suffering artist that he, and countless others, helped codify.

One Piece is the story of a boy who rejects the confines of society in search of his own freedom, but he does not do so alone. Luffy is driven as much by the desire to be with his friends as he is by his desire to find the One Piece. The series agrees that risking death is an acceptable part of chasing ones dream, but rejects the notion that it should be sought out or celebrated. It’s better to live an undignified life in the hope of a better tomorrow than to give into an easy death.

And that’s the fascinating part about how philosophies evolve over time, because as much as One Piece borrows from the Romantic era of the 18 and 19th centuries, it isn’t a Romantic story, just as how no amount of research and copying of style could ever turn a historical novel written today into a product of the era its trying to emulate. Oda has taken an old idea and made it into something new, using that idea as the guide for the entire series. Like sun, guiding to the dawn of a new era.

A Romance dawn, if you will.

#one piece #romanticism #creative-type analyzes #monkey d luffy #guess what I wrote instead of sleeping

942 notes · View notes