It’s been a long time since I watched any anime. I used to be a full-time anime fan, starting all the way back at Robotech. Now however, though I still feel an abiding love for Japanese culture, anime has become less an obsession than just another thing to watch. So I was surprised when a series, not a recent one but completely new to me, captivated me and reminded me of what I loved about anime in the first place.
The Twelve Kingdoms (Juuni Kokuki) takes place in a fantasy setting with a Chinese mythological feel. Impatient with the lawlessness of the people, the gods once remade the world, dividing it into twelve kingdoms, each one ruled by a king or queen, chosen and then served by a holy creature called a Kirin (in the anime, something like a unicorn), who is given special care over that kingdom. In the Twelve Kingdoms, babies are grown on a tree in an egg-like cocoon called a ranka, and sometimes, when a typhoon-like wind called a shoku rises up from the sea, people from Japan can be blown into the Twelve Kingdoms, or a ranka may be carried into Japan.
If you’ve guessed that our Japanese school-girl heroine, Yoko, ends up in the Twelve Kingdoms at some point in the story, you’re right. However, unlike many people who are carried accidentally into the Twelve Kingdoms by a chance shoku, Yoko is struggling through a day at school when a handsome man with a mane of long white hair (Keiki, one of the holy Kirin) appears before her and kneels, swearing he will never desert her throne. At the same moment, supernatural beasts attack and Yoko is forced to flee into the Twelve Kingdoms. Maybe that’s not such a surprise, but everything in this anime is handled a bit differently than in your typical girl-transported-to-another-world series.
First of all, Yoko brings with her two “friends”: a girl, Sugimoto, who can’t stand Yoko and thinks there’s been a mistake—she is the magical princess who Keiki meant to bring to the Twelve Kingdoms; and a boy, Asano, who is cheerfully oblivious to the dangerous situation they’re in, and is enamoured of Sugimoto and clearly turned off by the obsequious Yoko who likes him.
These displaced Japanese aren’t welcomed into this new world with fanfare and a mission; instead, Keiki becomes separated from them, and they are regarded by the people they meet as the despised and cursed kaikyaku, hunted as criminals by a king bent on executing them as well as by monsters who have targeted them for an unknown reason. This is not a world in which everyone is rich, and some kingdoms are at subsistence-level, so those who are willing to take advantage of these outsiders are many. The main characters are starving, on the run, and betrayed at every turn.
Yoko herself is a different sort of heroine, and though she’s sympathetic, at first she’s hard to like. She’s not your typical high-school-aged main character, full of cheerful persistence (and the truth comes out much later that the Kirin don’t have a choice in the ruler they select—it’s a bit like falling in love, it seems—and don’t always know that the ruler will be a good one); instead she’s a self-conscious, timid middling-achiever who only says and does what will please others. Her schoolmates dislike her and her parents don’t trust her. She’s mealy-mouthed, self-pitying, and weak-willed. However, she has within her an ability to change and a desire to do good, and that’s what ultimately makes Yoko work as a main character. In her, many problems of the modern Japanese mindset about the individual versus society are explored, critiqued and in some ways resolved.
Apart from a fascinating setting and a unique take on old tropes, the anime is remarkable in its structure. While the first section focuses on Yoko’s journey from a self-pitying people-pleaser to a self-aware young woman with the potential to be Queen, the narrative eventually turns to explore the history of King En, a brash samurai-king who has ruled his kingdom of En for 500 years beside his Kirin, Enki, an eternal grouchy pre-teen. Then it follows the story of Taiki, a Kirin whose ranka was blown by a shoku into Japan. Not knowing his true identity, he lived there in an emotionally distant family until he was seven, was returned to the Twelve Kingdoms, chose a king, and now both Kirin and king are missing. The story changes focus like this frequently; it’s frustrating yet gives a sense of depth and history to The Twelve Kingdoms. Unfortunately, the anime series was never finished, and ends on a “review” episode, clearly with the intent that the story should continue in future episodes. It never did.
Still, in spite of the aggravating lack of an ending, the anime is well-worth watching (and the novels the series is based on are completed, I believe). The social issues explored, the questions asked about the relationship between gods, destiny and free will, and a refreshingly even-handed representation of monarchy all make The Twelve Kingdoms a stand-out series. I highly recommend it for those with a taste for the epic and a love of fantasy heavy on political drama.
Please read my disclosure policy for reviews. Most images in this post are from Hourai: The Twelve Kingdoms Fanlisting.
