Not to be confused with “Anime You Should See Before You Die”

Kanon (Key Studios, 2006)

“For love is as strong as death,
Its jealousy as unyielding as the grave.”

–Song of Solomon 8:6

In making the transition from “self-professed anime expert” to “self-professed J-Pop expert,” I will probably find myself unable, from time to time, to refrain from making my own recommendations. This is one such instance.

I can mince no words in saying that the 2006 adaptation of Kanon (originally a pioneer “girl game”) is one of the most beautiful works of art I’ve seen. Kanon is probably best known in the West as a favorite of Fred Gallagher, and accordingly the original sad girl in the snow; but when the ‘06 series was released in the States, it suffered from a poor dub and a lack of promotion resulting from the unfortunate breakup of ADV Films. But those who have seen it know the uncanny emotional power of this series.

Kanon must also have been difficult to promote because it’s hard to know what to call it: it’s a romance, a mystery story, a slice-of-life; above all, it’s a story about the overwhelming power of love, and about death and resurrection. It made me weep like an infant, and contains an episode so devastating that, while I’ve watched the whole series several times through, I’ve never watched that episode again.

On a snowbound evening, a train carries Yuuichi Aizawa back to a small town where, eight years ago, he often came to stay with his aunt Akiko and cousin Nayuki. A cloud of childhood amnesia obscures these events, but the town is populated by girls who seem to remember him far better than he does them: the reticent swordsgirl Mai, frail and ladylike Shiori, scruffy runaway Makoto and Tsukimiya Ayu, the diminutive taiyaki thief. “Mysterious girls are more attractive, don’t you think?” Shiori, withholding her last name, teases Yuuichi, and he grumbles “this town is full of mysterious girls.” Originally the game could follow the story of any of these girls, but the series masterfully ties the stories together in the manner, as described by a character, of the famous musical composition Pachelbel’s Canon: “I imagine that our lives are like that, connected in ways we can’t see, swelling toward a harmony we can’t imagine.”

The ADV issue should still be available; switch off the dub, but I strongly advise that you see it as soon as possible, and again, and again. This is a series that grows more profound with each viewing.

To those who have seen it: I’m more and more fascinated by the role of aunt Akiko. Look at how she reacts at certain crucial moments. How much does she know about what’s going on, and why doesn’t she say more than she does? It’s all part of the mystical atmosphere that lingers around this series, even once the literal mysteries have been resolved.