CARNIVAL: The Garbage Read That Made Me Ponder About Happiness and Life [Repost]

(cw: family and sexual abuse) no more bad ero pls

Gotta Start with a Disclaimer

Let's get it out of the way first: CARNIVAL the visual novel planned by Kuwashima Yoshikazu and written by Setoguchi Ren'ya (Swan Song, MUSICUS!) was a mostly garbage reading experience.

There are many reasons as to why, some stemming from the structural issues and others coming from how I read this title. In most circumstances, I would keep quiet about a title that annoyed me on many levels. The unfortunate thing however is that there's some good parts here and there, which make it perhaps a worthwhile read to write about in the long run.

So before we get deep into CARNIVAL, I just want to make sure to readers that reading it was an undeniably painful experience. I'm going to be a bit more negative than the usual because I don't think people have really been critical enough about the title, but I also want to show how interesting this work actually is.

I also will be discussing the sequel novel at the end. Probably more than the actual visual novel because I like it more and it has more interesting ideas to really expound on.

I just don't like this visual novel lol.

Why is the VN Written Like This???

Like all great stories, the title begins with a car crash. Kimura Manabu was arrested for the murder of a schoolmate, but fate had given him a second chance: the patrol car he was in collided with another and he was able to escape from the police. Manabu knows that he can't really flee forever from the cops, but he wants to at least hand Kujou Risa back her handkerchief. He admits it's a silly romantic move, but he's also being realistic: he might never see her again.

But things take a turn when the two finally meet: Manabu's able to hide in her house, but he ends up being confused about how the schoolmate -- someone who bullied him because the guy got rejected by Risa -- was exactly murdered. To his own recollection, he didn't exactly do it. He tries to find answers in the worst way possible: he kidnaps Shimura Eimi who also bulled him in the past and things just get worse in every way possible.

Risa seems like she could do something to stop Manabu, but she willingly becomes his accomplice. She becomes partially to blame as Eimi and other people get hurt more and more. All she can do is watch and be silent.

At the moment, the story in of itself probably doesn't sound too half bad. The direction sounds like it could be heading to interesting places and I do think it actually does that. Setoguchi's writing is also present and immerses the reader into the self-deprecating and paranoid thoughts of Manabu. Most notably, the game begins with a monologue about the moon laughing at you and this is actually referenced in Subarashiki Hibi, implying that SCA-DI was perhaps heavily influenced by this title. There's seriously good vibes with the story so far.

But once the sex happens, you may start regretting your life decisions.

Almost immediately, the visual novel is hampered by some serious structural issues and this is best seen in the infamous animated opening that features five heroines-looking women doing happy, cute, and emo things. Oh look, it's just a cute bishoujo-ge!!! Nothing is further from the truth: Risa and perhaps Watarai Izumi are the only important women in this opening; everyone else appears for one or two scenes. The worst is probably this random cop who appears for just one ero scene too!

This isn't just me criticizing misleading visual novel openings either; it foreshadows the structural issues inherent in the title. What's supposed to be a story between Manabu and Risa has been pushed and squeezed into the "five heroine" visual novel mold popularized by Visual Arts/KEY titles like Kanon. This is clearly done to help market the title since, at this point in visual novels, you gotta follow the industry leaders. As a result, these otherwise random characters were added and sub-writers essentially wrote random rape ero scenes and other weird shit in the middle of the story -- all in the name to make this title sell.

To accomplish this, the writers have split the work into three "scenarios" with random bad ends in between. While there is some rationale behind this, this multi-scenario approach is ultimately unnecessary: scenario 1 goes on for too long, scenario 2 is repetitive and only reveals one or two things, and scenario 3 is clearly what Setoguchi wanted to write from the very beginning. This leads to a story where the beginning and the end are the only good parts and the middle being utter trash.

So, it's fair to say around 80% of the story could've been excised for a tighter pacing. Many parts in the visual novel serve little to no purpose. It's random rape ero galore for seemingly no good reason (one could argue later this had some purpose in the sequel novel, in which I'll explain at the end of this post) and I just feel uncomfortable reading this -- including one scene where Manabu dupes a young girl into sucking his dick so he can help find her older sister who he already kidnapped. It's just creepy and sullies the actual themes of the story: it's about surviving abuse (including sexual abuse from adults) and neglect. I don't understand the point of that ero scene at all; it's plainly offensive to survivors and contradictory to the overall message of the story.

I'm not therefore exaggerating when I say the entire structure of this visual novel is working against the story this title is trying to tell, from the terrible pacing in the middle to just a barrage of questionable ero scenes that will be better skipped. It was painful to read this title from start to finish. I felt unsatisfied finishing this visual novel because I knew it could've been much more by being less.

It would be remiss of me to ignore all of this and say this was worth it in the end. Truth be told, I can't even say if I got much out of it. I just wanted to be done with this title and not revisit it again in the future.

I was, in fact, adamant on not writing about this title. No one wants to read me being a party pooper after all.

On the Meaning of Happiness

So, why am I giving this the newsletter treatment?

Besides being one of the few to sound the alarms over how bad the title actually is, I do think this visual novel has some merit that deserves some mention -- especially if coupled with the sequel novel. And I can understand why this title is a well-regarded classic that's made a name for Setoguchi Ban'ya.

If we disregard the mishaps in storytelling, the work is actually a serious treatment on abuse and how it affects adolescents growing up. Comparable to works like JD Salinger's Catcher in the Rye, CARNIVAL is more a bittersweet coming-of-age story about growing up in abusive households -- with emphasis on the bitter part.

The title pulls no punches about how bad these childhood traumas can be. It brings up how children can experience gaslighting, sexual violence inflicted onto them by adults, and more to show how growing up could actually be quite painful. The two protagonists, Manabu and Risa, wonder aloud if they deserve happiness (whatever that is) and, by extension, a place in the world. They view themselves as fuck-ups because of their upbringing and they are seeking something within each other. Yet, they know they can't really replace their despair with each other.

All they can do is lick each other's wounds.

A big question present in CARNIVAL and future Setoguchi visual novels is this wild goose chase over happiness. Literary references like the works of Miyazawa Kenji and a serious treatment on the Catholic interpretation of the Holy Bible are abound as the main duo struggle to explain what happiness actually means to each other. They loathe their existence and the sins they've committed, but they still strive for something resembling happiness.

In this regard, Setoguchi is asking the big questions writers like Dostoevsky and Miyazawa have been pondering for ages in their fiction. Miyazawa is particularly interesting to bring up because, while CARNIVAL references a different Miyazawa work, his most famous work Night on the Galactic Railroad was his personal odyssey to define what happiness was after the loss of his beloved sister. In that work, he concluded that the truest of happiness could only be reached if one had made their way through many sorrows.

The conception of happiness in CARNIVAL is similar in that it depends on degrees of suffering, but it also includes how traumas and survivor's guilt could affect the equation. Miyazawa's focus on grief neglects how children in terrible households can't feel like they have the right to be happy. Such children will already find it difficult to adjust to the world, especially if their parents already dis-empowered them through violence and sex. It doesn't help either that many people in more privileged/"normal" households would be encouraged to keep their distance away. So, it shouldn't be surprising then that the ostracized would feel like they deserve to be unhappy forever.

But regardless of everything, everyone wants to be happy. Even if it's for a tiny bit. Even if that happiness may not last forever. We've got to keep running after happiness, even though it will always slip past our hands once more. That's just how life is for everyone.

If one wants to describe the themes of CARNIVAL succinctly, it's about this never-ending desire to define what happiness is even if one admits they're living in hell. This task would of course never be completed. No one stops chasing happiness after all. All definitions of happiness must be flawed; they can only serve as temporary goals. Everyone has their frustration and sorrows, but they also have their own happiness and joys. From a vantage point, the city of such people would look like a carnival where everyone's laughing and crying at the same time.

To come of age in this story therefore means to grasp the temporal nature of happiness and vibe with it as long as possible before it changes shape again. After losing sight of happiness, the pursuit for a new happiness then resumes. This is what everyone must do in order to be happy. Even those who have been hurt by their families and done harm to other people deserve some notion of happiness.

For that reason alone, I can see why the title is adored by many despite the structural failures. CARNIVAL is a genuinely potent story that can resonate with many people who've experienced or at least seen households like this.

The Novel's Always Better

In the shadow of the visual novel however lies the sequel novel published by 二次元ドリームノベルズ (Nijiken Dream Novels). This work, also titled CARNIVAL, follows the younger brother of Risa, Youichi, who's barely appeared in the visual novel.

Most people familiar with visual novels may have not read this novel and the reason is simple: this book is out-of-print and the only way to access them is, well, through certain means. The book itself isn't cheap: as of this writing, it's costing a mere 33,000JPY. Setoguchi is clearly active since he's behind the upcoming Black Sheep Town, so this text might have been abandoned due to some licensing rights issue. Whichever the case is, it's a shame this work is inaccessible because it's not only 3000% Setoguchi but also serves as a powerful conclusion to the title -- even if it's a direction one definitely won't expect if one only reads the visual novel.

It also has random references to Marxism and throwing down the state, so I believe that must count for something.

Seven years had passed since the events of the VN and Youichi is now trying to uncover where his sister and Manabu disappeared to. Along the way, he is joined by Saori who's been caged as a child and asked to happily perform sexual services for her guardian; one day, her guardian left the keys and she was able to get out for the first time in her life. Her naivete and overall wonder about the world had led her to being sexually exploited and used by other men. Together, this unlikely duo is now tasked in trying to make sense of what actually transpired seven years ago.

Thanks to this uh unique premise, the sequel novel basically deals with the consequences of Manabu's and Risa's actions. It analyzes the harm from the seemingly random acts of violence and sexual assault committed throughout the visual novel while still acknowledging the despair the two protagonists faced in their childhood. Youichi finds resistance and tears when he interviews people about what happened.

What's remarkable about this novel is how seriously it takes adulthood under these circumstances. The passage of time has taken its toll on all the characters for the worse. With the exception of one certain cop who seemed to have experienced a new kind of sexuality (one could only lmao at this), every returning character feels the weight of the incident. They can't escape from this history and many people would like to blame Manabu, but they know that it won't help them move on.

He too was a victim of his circumstances after all. Manabu may have caused irreparable harm to others, but he was a victim too first and foremost. This makes attributing him the blame very difficult for survivors and people familiar with the situation. And justice against those who caused Manabu and Risa to fall deep into this position in the first place had not been served yet. No one can ever be happy with this situation.

At this point in their lives, all they're really asking is for some kind of closure. They want the curtain call to drop, so they can finally move on with their lives.

In this sense, the novel is taking a few jabs at people who found the message of the visual novel uplifting. Yes, the principle is great and all; we can't just bury our heads in the sand and pretend like these painful histories aren't there. Guilt emerges precisely because we know harm lingers. Even if we account for the violence inflicted on Manabu and Risa by these people, there was no reason for them to suffer so much pain that they would eventually develop post-traumatic stress disorder. If happiness could only be fostered through such awful acts, then is it really happiness?

So, what then about the whole talk about searching for happiness? In light with this fatigue over adulthood, the novel almost feels like it dreads to bring the theme up again. While switching life goals here and there may be practical for these characters, that cannot ever be a permanent loop. Adults get tired after all. They're sick tired of working, taking care of their loved ones, going outside, reliving their traumatic experiences seven years prior etc. What was once solace for adolescence won't work for adulthood anymore.

What an optimistic outlook on life!

I must now state the obvious: the CARNIVAL sequel novel is an incredibly doomer read. Unlike the visual novel, the work offers negative hope. No shred of salvation exists; only mental health facilities, traumatized women, and broken families appear in the text. Like its predecessor, it takes the Catholic belief we're all sinners literally, but it takes it a step further and says "there's no escape from our punishment". One can only seek for forgiveness in this situation.

Happiness as conceived in this novel is learning how to be forgiven in one way or another. The dead can't forgive, but those who are alive might. I'm reminded of Jacques Derrida's insight that more or less says we don't forgive small things because that would be peculiar and too much; what we forgive instead is the unforgivable. Repentance may allow us to express gratitude for being born on this earth. We cannot flee from the repercussions of our quest for happiness if they involve some form of harm to others. It is therefore correct to say that true happiness is a form of repenting and we will always cycle through these modes.

This conclusion may be difficult to swallow, perhaps more so for fans of the original visual novel. That title might be depressing, but it did suggest a possible new beginning from the ashes. Here, hopes are just dashed in this sequel novel.

But perhaps because I'm blackpilled enough, I resonate with this conclusion a lot. The title acknowledges living is exhausting, especially in mired situations. The past catches up with people in a karmic justice kind of way. And upon finishing the work, I reconsidered what happiness meant to me. I did think the visual novel's conception as juvenile to a certain degree, but I could never pinpoint as to why. This novel showed the artifice of it all while asking me to interrogate further what this happiness thing actually means.

And I know this novel is what will stick with me more -- and it's not just because it's got damn good writing. I can't imagine any one of us is a do-gooder the second we popped into existence; there's gonna be terrible shit we'll do to (ex-)friends and loved ones that we'll regret in the future. If no conclusion is arrived at, it compromises our own raison d'etre. We live with these fragmented and unfinished incidents in our life and that's what gives lasting power to these traumas too.

This cycle will never stop: we will continue to do stupid shit that hurts people in order to find our own happiness.

A Bleak Future?

But in the end, everyone just dies anyway.

That said, there's more to death and conclusions that meet the eye: I've read somewhere that one of the tenets of Tibetan Buddhism is that living is all about preparing to face your death as calmly and confidently as possible; in other words, to live well is to die well.

It's something I disagree with morally and philosophically, but I sure think about its implications a lot. What it practically means is that we choose to live our life to the fullest and therefore give ourselves permission for closure. Death becomes this end-state where we've finally had our fill on this physical realm and peaced out. The CARNIVAL sequel novel shares the same ethos: our struggles come from us not accepting we're heading toward a terminus in our lives. There is a finale at the end of the road and we should be brave to receive it once the time comes.

Embracing the finality is how we can be free from all this weight.

But in speaking of the inevitable future, I have to acknowledge that I'm a time traveler and had already Setoguchi's later works. He zigzags on this question of happiness, but he had clearly found his answer in MUSICUS! and it's different from what he's arrived at in the sequel novel. To be clearer, I believe MUSICUS! is the culmination of everything he's come up with before. And his solution to the problem isn't that bleak at all.

Happiness is still a conception of faith in his view, but it is not marred with things like the Original Sin anymore. He has returned to the themes of the original ending of CARNIVAL and agrees it's partly an illusion one has to believe in -- except that it doesn't matter if it's an illusion or, for that matter, real. He now argues that the act of belief itself is what we should believe in. It doesn't matter what one believes in as long as you don't lose yourself in silly distractions. Whether it is starting a rock band or facing childhood traumas, a happy life is more about knowing what you actually need and sticking with it because you believe in the outcome.

That is how one should greet the end when the credit rolls on us.

...

Sigh, stuff like this is why I hate CARNIVAL the visual novel because it's actually a thought-provoking title that is ruined by everything surrounding it. People are so picking up this title after I post this article.

Ugh.

As long as you've read other Setoguchi titles first (I recommend Swan Song for being short and cheap) and plan to read the sequel novel, I suppose I can "recommend" it. Just don't go after me when you realize the visual novel is like 80% garbage, okay???