Japan has a rich literary history. One that even stretches beyond manga! I can’t say I’ve actually studied any of it, or really know much more than maybe some incredibly basic stuff, but I know enough to say that their poetry is kind of a Big Deal. Enough that one of the most famous works of Japanese literature is the hyakunin isshu, lit. “one hundred people, one poem [each]” (woo Wikipedia), an anthology of 100 now-classical poems.
The hyakunin isshu is arguably best known as the basis for the card game karuta, a claim I make based entirely on how great Chihayafuru was. Thanks to that, I’m at least aware of the general style of the poetry – short, colourful, evocative and delighting in allusions and metaphors rooted in nature – and that they unsurprisingly cover a wide range of topics and themes. Uta Koi, as you may have guessed by the title, only concerns itself with the poems on love and romance.
Sounds deep and educational, no?
Uta Koi bills itself as a “super-liberal interpretation” of the selected poems, which essentially means that a lot is read into the poems and the inspirations behind them, and that the ‘characters’ are all extensions of what is actually known about those historical figures based again on the poems and whatever actually works for the sake of the narrative. Historically accurate? Perhaps not. And nowhere is this clearer than when you consider the ‘host’ of this series, Fujiwara no Teika.
Teika is the compiler of the Ogura Hyakunin Isshu, which Wikipedia assures me is often considered to be the hyakunin isshu, and it is this anthology that Uta Koi is based on. The surprisingly high proportion of poems about love in this anthology is the in-show Teika’s justification for only focusing on them for this series. He acts as the host, giving context and backstory for the characters and the events in the episode, and linking all the individual stories together when they share characters across them. His host segments are kinda really fucking weird.
From super sentai skits to ballet dancing… in tutus… Teika’s segments are probably the pinnacle of the “super-liberal” aspect of the show. While there’s no thematic relation between what Teika and his chum are doing and what the stories are actually about, they’re something of a necessity to avoid boredom. Without them it’d just be the hosts talking about the history and context and… well that’s basically all it is anyway, but this at least keeps it visually entertaining.
Also provided by these are how the events link to each other – some stories share characters or follow on, and Teika helps to explain them and make them make sense. Or, in the event where there is no connection between them, forces an unnatural and hilarious transition just to move it along quickly. A chat show, ox and cart grand prix, poet Yu-Gi-On! and much more just to move from one era disjointed to the next? Yeah, it happened, and is very much the extreme example of Uta Koi’s sense of humour.
Of course it is the stories themselves that are the meat of this series, and they can be broadly described as ‘excellent’. They cover a wide range of experiences, moods, emotions and feelings, as many as there are ways that love can shape and be a part of a person’s life. One week it may be a typical tale of unrequited love and the lengths one went to in order to express that hopeless love; the next may be about a pair overcoming all odds to be together, or perhaps failing to instead. There’s seduction, denial of feelings, death, distance, naïveté, maturity, closeness, differences in social status or class, differences in age, platonic feelings turning romantic, hateful feelings turning romantic, and much more. The breadth and depth of stories of love that are told is fantastic, and while some are clichéd others are decidedly novel, but the sheer variety keeps it interesting and avoids stagnancy and predictability.
What’s truly interesting though is how these stories are explored. The nature of the poetry obviously means that to even somewhat faithfully adapt them they have to be set in the right period – that is, traditional, classical Japan. Obviously, this means we’re looking at romances during a very traditional and patriarchal era, and that naturally shapes the experiences and events. But what’s great is that the characters are rather modern in attitude and personality, and that the romances are explored in positive and modern ways within this context that should result in some very negative implications and approaches. Uta Koi doesn’t pretend that arranged marriages and a lack of freedom for women didn’t exist in this era; rather, it takes those and tells positive stories within them, showing happiness and love can result despite and not because of those circumstances, or perhaps instead showing just how damaging and painful they can be for all involved. This is easily one of the most compelling aspects of Uta Koi, superbly executed.
To expand on that, the treatment and portrayal of women in Uta Koi is remarkably progressive, even somewhat feminist at times. While working within this intensely patriarchal social context, it is obviously difficult to truly have ‘strong/independent’ female characters – especially when there are pretences to some ‘true story’. But nonetheless many of the women are shown being as strong and as independent as they possibly could be, taking every opportunity present to further themselves. Or they’re shown to have a significant say in their relationships, not necessarily domineering but not subservient either. Sometimes a woman is shown in an arranged marriage, with her loss of freedom and control, unable to do or say anything about her husband’s affairs, and it’s shown to be awful, even tragic. These ‘relationships’ aren’t glorified – but that’s not to say they’re never shown in a positive light. There are stories in which a man and woman are forced into marriage, with happiness resulting from it – but in each instance it very much was a case of the woman choosing to be in that situation, to not fight it. And that is essentially what it boils down to; women having the ability to choose their circumstances denied to them is almost universally portrayed negatively. Sometimes a happy ending results regardless, but such a circumstance is never glorified; women are never reduced to simple objects of desire for the men.
Another smaller and more specific example of the progressiveness of Uta Koi is in one episode where what essentially amounts to a lesbian romance is shown. It is easily the most obviously feminist episode in the series, as it uses the exclusively female (albeit, tragically failed) relationship to explore many of the themes and situations outlined above. But beyond that, attention is never drawn to the fact that it is a same-sex relationship. It’s simply shown in the same way any other gender pairing is and never played for ‘yuri’ or anything like that, which is in itself refreshing.
Without the poetry it adapts, this series would obviously not exist. Fortunately poetry is very much the focus surrounding the romance, with basically every character being a poet, and each poem being written by one of the parties involved in the relationships. And Uta Koi was very much correct in setting itself up as a “super-liberal” interpretation. The very short poems from which the stories are derived obviously don’t say much in any clarity or detail, but through analysing the history of the poets, who they interacted with and of course the poem itself, one can draw a picture of what it was mostly likely about. But the difference here is that Uta Koi takes a loose interpretation and runs with it, adding more characters, going into unknown details about events, about everyone’s feelings and personalities, and just generally making a lot of stuff up but all for narrative’s sake. Hell, at some points Teika even discusses the commonly agreed upon interpretation of a poem before saying that they prefer a completely different interpretation because it would make for a more romantic story.
The poetic roots of Uta Koi permeate the show in more ways than simply the narrative. The tone, the atmosphere, the general feeling of it matches the elegance, the serenity and beauty of the poetry, with its calm pace, subdued drama, and gently moving climaxes. Of course to keep with the “super-liberal” nature there’s a fair amount of character driven comedy, which does involve a small amount of wackiness, over-reactions and exaggerated facial expressions you’d expect from an anime comedy, but when the seriousness takes over the maturity and grace of the poetry comes to the front to do the source material justice.
Similarly with the animation and art – it is stylistically very ‘anime’ but at the same time reminiscent of classical and traditional Japanese art. The thick lines surrounding the characters, the bright colours, the heavy, heavy use of texturing throughout and the stylistic flairs (cherry blossoms, autumn leaves, and my personal favourite – representing rainfall by having ripples spread across the surface of the view) all combine to make it feel like an old piece of Japanese art come to life and modernised, adding to the classically poetic feel of Uta Koi. The music contributes as well, obviously, with a soundtrack comprised of a mix of traditional Japanese and appropriate non-Japanese instruments, creating utterly perfect songs for their situations and moods that feel completely suited to the setting despite the lack of those sounds in that era. The music evokes the classic Japanese artistic imagery so wonderfully that it too complements the poetry and everything built from that flawlessly.
Uta Koi is, however, not perfect. That said the only real complaints I have against it are ones that are shared by most other episodic series. There are some amazing heights reached during its duration, but for every excellent episode or story there’s one that failed to leave a lasting impression, that was unremarkable and unmemorable. Pacing can be inconsistent; sometimes it feel like it dragged itself on for too long, and at others the story did not get the time it deserved. I can’t say any stood out as being outright bad, but there were certainly moments when I was bored, unable to care about the characters and the events I was watching, be it from awkward pacing or just that the story was a very clichéd and generic one that has already been done to death. In a series with an overarching story, these low points can be forgiven as, except in the very worst cases, they at least help to push the story on a little, but in an episodic series like this one an unmemorable episode may as well be skipped; they weaken the overall package.
Uta Koi was without a doubt a surprise from the summer season lineup. Crafting captivating stories about love and romance and every bit of pain and joy involved from a collection of centuries old classical poetry, keeping the relationships and characters decidedly modern while staying true to the era in which they were experienced is no easy feat, but Uta Koi executed it marvellously. Progressive themes explored within a traditional context; the comedic and silly balanced with the mature and serious for the best payoff of pathos; the conflict and celebration of the modern and the traditional; Uta Koi deals in all of this and while the lows are forgettable, the highs are absolutely stunning. The poetry has been done justice, and then some.
8/10
damn good review right here. i even struggled giving this show it’s deserved praise.
my favorite story in the show is the 100 nights of calling. i’m glad girls aren’t that hard to get but damn, if one existd, i would so go for 100. :)
[…] (review) […]
I’m not easily imseesprd but you’ve done it with that posting.