Ressentiment

"res•sen•ti•ment
noun
1. any cautious, defeatist, or cynical attitude based on the belief that the individual and human institutions exist in a hostile or indifferent universe or society.
2. an oppressive awareness of the futility of trying to improve one's status in life or in society."

That was a definition I ripped off straight from dictionary.com. I usually wouldn't start anything with a textbook definition of a word – because 1) its cheesy as hell and 2) most titles are arbitrary – but I felt the need to bend the rules just this once to emphasize how important the title is to this manga. Defining its literal meaning though is only half the battle – “ressentiment” is also a philosophical term. If we take Wikipedia to be accurate, ressentiment also refers to the hostility directed at the perceived cause of one’s frustrations. More importantly, out of a sense of inferiority one creates a morality to oppose the “cause” of our frustrations, which effectively separates the “cause” from the self, thus denying one of any culpability. The important take-away points here are that ressentiment involves a sense of inferiority, the creation of a specific morality and the rejection of blame. With that unwieldy definition of “ressentiment” out of the way, I can get to why it’s so important to this manga. “Ressentiment”, in both its literal and philosophical meaning, encapsulates the characters and the story so perfectly that just knowing what the word means will tell you everything you need to know about “Ressentiment”, the manga. At its core, this is a dark, misanthropic story that is a scathing critique of both otaku fandom and human greed and vanity. However, it is also incredibly funny, nuanced and – at times – even humanistic in its portrayal of despicable men. It is this tension between these two seeming dichotomies that make “Ressentiment” both so fascinating and tragic.

I believe a review should answer the question: Should I (as the reader) watch/read this? In this case, the answer is a resounding "yes". Though it has its flaws -- much of which I've neglected in this review -- "Ressentiment" is an intriguing manga that features an atypical lead and a lot more depth than you'd initially assume. Overall, a hidden gem that isn't for everyone.

Ressentiment (2003) is a black comedy manga written and drawn by Kengo Hanazawa, creator of Boys on the Run (2005) and I Am a Hero (2009) that opened his career with a powerful work on the topics of Otaku culture and in many ways, the voluntary ostracism of reality imposed by technology; social ineptitude, inferiority complexes and discrimination.

The title in French refers to a condition described in the psychology of authors such as Nietzsche, about the transfer of resentment originated in an inferiority complex, rejection and blame on a third party - the real world, in this case. It's also a term to describe the creation of moral systems, for example; the Nietzschean theme of Morality of Masters and Slaves.

Under a veiled comic tone and with a unique drawing style, Hanazawa tells us about the life of thirty-year-old Takuro Sakamoto, a depressed man, full of complexes and with a childlike sense of human relationships. The author makes a quasi-pictorial mixture of a social reality of those who don't fit in and flee from the real world that they find unfair and a virtual world where they can be the heroes, the popular ones.

Sakamoto is a character with whom we can all identify, not only those immediately described as ugly and living in a loft with virtual girlfriends and boyfriends, but all those who suffer from an inferiority complex due to bad things that have happened in our lives or simply because some traits could make us seem vulnerable out there.

"The Unreal", or virtual world is full of people who have given up on life or are looking for something to fill their existential emptiness, but instead of being a place to heal their wounds, it becomes a place to satisfy their vileness, exercise hatred and finally the only place where they are someone while being nobody. The ending will blow you away, but the maganka does nothing but be consistent with himself.

Impossible to adapt to anime, it's a powerful story that will make you reflect on your own goals in life and never be so low to be carried away by those deficiencies and defects that we all have, which are mostly mental.

Imprescindible.

This manga is one focused on the dark side of virtual reality. By that I don't mean the super dark military mind control type stuff, but rather the creepy side where people become addicted to it. From that point of view, it certainly was unique, as most mangas that are VR focused seem to stay away from that side of things as the focus. But at the same time, this results in the characters being unlikable and the plot being pretty pathetic. And unrelated to that, overall it just seemed pretty messy and directionless all around, where no characters exhibited any growth and no major points related to the subject matter were ever made. The humor was primarily centered at being at the MCs expense, which seemed more sad than funny to me as it went on. The ending also randomly raised the stakes to a ridiculous level and allowed the MC to screw himself over one last time to end on, which also felt sad. The MC is a pretty terrible person, so I suppose I can understand why he would deserve it, but at the same time, it was just felt pointless and unsatisfying. The art was rough and not that good. 

tl;dr: A manga that doesn't have anything beyond a pathetic character to whom bad things happen.

Overall, there’s themes running through this that have been done many times before, from Welcome to the NHK, with its take on otaku and erogames; Chobits, with its ‘which-is-better’ theme; and the herd of slightly deranged magical-girlfriend stories that are out there.

Hanazawa manages to combine all three elements, however, in a tightly-knit tale using humour, pathos, drama and wrapping it all in a slightly stinging rebuke of otaku-dom and their retreat from reality into the world of moe dating sims.

Watching Takuro and Tsukiko’s clumsy courtship is sweet, but entirely fake - she’s nothing more than a program, whilst he is an attractive and unreal facsimile of himself. Hanazawa reminds us of this, dragging us back into reality with some effectively used cut-scenes. In the best example of this, we are shown Takuro hugging a sobbing Tsukiko, as she wails about how alone she was before he came. “Don’t worry,” he says, “you’re not alone.” Immediately, we cut back to his bedroom and are confronted with fat, slovenly Takuro hugging thin air.

In stark contrast to their VR personas, all of the characters in this tale are generally crude, vulgar, shallow and generally unlikable. This is reflected in the character design, which really highlights everybody’s worst features. I’d go as far as to say that even Tsukiko, the love interest, barely passes for cute, compared to standard manga and anime definitions of moe. Despite all this, Hanazawa weaves a tight, complex, not-quite-subtle story, which will leave you with the feeling that no matter how much of a loser you think Takuro is, you really do want him to get the girl in the end.

Overall, it’s a refreshing, funny, albeit somewhat scathing, take on familiar themes and worth tracking down.