NEAR MYTHS: FLAME OF RECCA PTS 1-156 (1995-96?)

 

I might never have reviewed even the first 156 parts of FLAME OF RECCA had I not wanted to compare the manga to its 1997 anime series, which review will appear separately on my movie-blog. Based on my early reading of the manga by one Nobuyuki Anzai, I didn't think there was much to say about it. It seemed a decent if unexceptional shonen manga of the mid-nineties, though I have the impression that it's not remembered much these days. I think Anzai followed the template set by Akira Toriyama's late eighties DRAGONBALL Z, in which the protagonist was a bit of a dummy yet one with amazing martial prowess, who became the moral center of a group of similar good-hearted champions. Anzai doesn't emphasize martial arts as much as Toriyama did, for his dopey protagonist Recca and his friends all utilize specialized talismans, "madogu," which endow them with super-powers like those of American costumed heroes.                                                                 

 Thus far, the only major distinction I've discovered in RECCA is its take on the roles of the main hero and his opposite number. Manga (including DRAGONBALL) has no shortage of heroes who earnestly defend their bosom friends while their villains are obsessed loners motivated only by the desire for power. Anzai does come up with a novel twist on this theme. Recca, though he's a teen who's been raised in the 20th century, was actually born in a ninja cult during the 16th century. When the cult gets wiped out, Recca's mother sends her infant son forward in time, where the baby is fortunate enough to be raised by a poor but virtuous "father." However, Recca's older half-brother Kurei, raised by his mother to trample upon the weak, attempts to kill Recca, but gets caught up in the time-spell. Kurei too gets catapulted to the 20th century, but he gets adopted by a nasty gang-boss who will eventually propel all of his agents, including Kurei, against the champions following Recca. Like many DRAGONBALL imitators, RECCA structures a lot of its action around tournament-competitions, the better to supply fans with plenty of wild action scenarios. And toward the end of the tournament-plotline, Recca squares off against Kurei both philosophically as well as physically. First, we have Kurei, expousing the belief that the strong alone matter.                                                         

                                                                       

And then there's Recca, expousing the belief that connections to one's circle of family and friends are paramount.                                  

                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

                                                                                                                

It's possible that some later episodes of RECCA might develop these opposing philosophies. But failing that, the rest of the series probably only earns status as a "near myth."  

ON MASTERING SELF-MASTERY

I've recently hunted through past posts and added the tag "self-mastery" to any post where I used the Nietzschean term "self-overcoming." I find Nietzsche's term a little too obscure for my own use, but "self-mastery" serves to express the ways in which fictional combative characters illustrate humankind's ability to do more with their "might" than to dominate others. I wrote in 2015's NIETZSCHE VS. THE NEOPURITAN NANNIES:

Nietzsche is interested in war and violence only as forces within humankind that must be overcome by the overman-- not indulged in, like the Nazis to whom Frederic Wertham compared the philosopher. The overman was Nietzsche's solution to the vagaries of rule by the mob or by the tyrant:

Now, in fiction combative characters embody a plethora of philosophical attitudes, and Nietzsche's idea of self-mastery diverges even from that of, say, Frank Miller. (Interesting side-note: in ZARATHUSTRA Nietzsche castigates a "Spirit of Gravity," which is a value Miller and his co-writer Azzarello champion in THE DARK KNIGHT MASTER RACE. ) But I would still argue that the semantic manner in which both the philosopher and the comics-writers express the idea of self-mastery is essentially the same.

Now, in COMBAT PLAY PT. 4, I  used the ideal of "fair play" as an example of what I then called "self-limitation" and considered essentially identical with "self-overcoming:"

In my own lit-critic cosmos, the ideal of "fair play" assumes the role of "self-limitation" that is, in Nietzsche's philosophy, occupied by "self-overcoming."

And yet, I find that I've used it not in terms of limiting oneself but also in terms of exceeding limits. In WEAKLINGS WITH WEAPONS PT. 1, I compared two protagonists whose dynamicity was certainly not at the highest level, but who both utilized particular weapons to overcome obstacles. I argued in part that although Richard Mayhew of NEVERWHERE gained possession of a super-sword and used it to kill a monster, he lacked the quality of "self-mastery," since the weapon's power did all the work. In contrast, Jack Burton of BIG TROUBLE IN LITTLE CHINA didn't command a lot of power with his one weapon, a simple throwing-knife, but like Aristotle's hedgehog he mastered one good trick. Thus his triumph over the villain Lo-Pan is entirely the result of Burton's self-mastery.

In my philosophical cosmos, the acquisition of a skill or power comes about through a process of self-monitoring, a subject's attempt to understand his or her natural limits at a given time, after which the subject seeks to exceed said limits, to gain greater self-mastery. The appeal of fair play is affective rather than cognitive; the subject believes, for instance, that he shouldn't use a weapon if his opponent does not have one. Thus, in THOR #152, the thunder-god "sheathes" his hammer after destroying his foe's mace.

However, this "noblesse oblige" gesture can have an objective effect, in that it forces a given character to "dig deeper" in order to defeat a worthy opponent. Of course, one doesn't need the gesture, since combative narratives are replete with dozens of situations wherein combatants seek out worthy opponents purely to improve themselves. DRAGONBALL frequently uses this scenario, in that the Seiyans Goku and Vegeta repeatedly challenge one another, even when on relatively friendly terms:

Having dovetailed these two related concepts, my next consideration is: what are the most familiar story-tropes through which fictional characters may demonstrate self-mastery?

Both of the two previous examples fall into the most elementary category, that of the hand-to-hand battle. This is also the easiest trope with which an author can express self-mastery.

The trope of weapons-use, however, becomes more complicated, as seen in the WEAKLINGS WITH WEAPONS analysis, wherein I found that Mayhew did not display self-mastery even though he had a bigger, badder weapon than did Jack Burton. An even greater complication is that any form of "super-power" not intimately tied to the human body becomes similarly problematic. If Nightcrawler's ability to teleport demonstrates self-mastery, can one necessarily say the same of a comical type of teleporter like Ambush Bug?

The third major trope of self-mastery is that of the indirect commander: a figure whose main role is often to order others into battle. In this essay I said that I discounted the "Adama" character of BATTLESTAR GALACTICA in terms of "combative status" because he functioned largely as a figurehead. Yet there are millions of villains who are basically "master planner" types who get henchmen to do their fighting for them. However, the difference between Adama and, say, Fu Manchu is that the latter's genius for evil infuses every errand his servants perform in his name.

More on these matters later, perhaps.