Hey all, thanks for checking out this post, and a big thanks to Ashley for allowing me some space on their wonderful blog. A quick introduction of myself: My name is Jack, but you might also find me doing other stuff under Storytella. Primarily, I run a blog called Animated Observations talking about anime, manga, and other things that interest me from a somewhat academic/literary-focused lens. That being said, hope you enjoy it.
“There is no time like the present,” or so many like to think, but the past, and the familial bonds tied with it, are not so easily left behind. The story of A Place Further Than the Universe is one which centers on this idea, as one of its main characters, along with her strange collection of new friends set off to try and reach the place where her mother disappeared.
A Place Further Than the Universe details the life of Tamaki, Mari, a girl who feels a strong desire not to let her high school life fly by her. While worrying about her lack of adventure, she meets Kobuchizawa, Shirase, a girl who is determined to follow in her mother’s footsteps and take a trip to Antarctica. Seeing this as her sign, Mari asks to tag along with Shirase. The two eventually meet up with Miyake, Hinata and Sharaishi, Yuzuki, and set out toward the south pole.
The series spends a lot of time with the girls together, as they scramble to get money for the trip, desperately working whatever odd jobs they can find. Hinata and Yuzuki are exceptions, given that one spends most of her time working anyway and the other is…well, rich and famous. However, it is the more intimate moments of the show that really sell its emotional weight. Specifically, those moments involving Shirase and her relationship with her mother.
Even in the moments of triumph, there is a reminder of what has been. Times of celebration like when the company finally agrees to let the girls come along ultimately are still tempered by the memory of what that trip means. The Kobuchizawa name is both a reminder of how great her mom’s legacy is, but also the fact that her mom will not be able to build upon that legacy again. Every day is a new one where Shirase holds out a little bit of hope that is not the case.
The culmination of these reluctant hopes and large fears manifests in episode 12, where the girls eventually head further inland toward the observatory where Shirase’s mother was last seen. Throughout the journey there, which lasts multiple days, Shirase is further reminded of her mother, despite saying before the trip began that it was not a source of stress for her.
After the girls finally arrive, Mari, Hinata, and Yuzuki scour the observatory in desperation, searching for any piece of proof that her mother was there. Eventually, they come across her laptop, with a printed picture of Shirase and herself taped across the top. The girls hand it over, possibly more distressed at that moment than Shirase herself. At least, for that short period of time.
It is in the final moments of the episode where that resilient facade that had served as her only defense during the episode falls away. The camera rests squarely on the bed, the ladder to the bunk framing her at her desk, alone. As she opens the laptop and guesses her birthday as the password, the flood of emails she sent over the long years of her mother’s departure come flooding back, as do the tears she was holding onto for so long. The episode is closed out by the aptly titled “Mata ne,” meaning “see you,” a beautiful but tragic piece sung by Saya and written Yoshiaki Fujisawa.
This tender, heart-breaking moment might best be described not as the show’s climax, but rather as an anti-climax. The reality of Shirase’s situation was never going to change, her mother was never going to be there at the observatory waiting for Shirase to come find her. The tension came not from overcoming any new challenge, though the girls certainly did have to do much of that throughout the series. Rather, it is from finding a way to move forward in the face of old ones.
Though the show as a whole belongs to the four of them, this episode is undoubtedly Shirase’s. The undercurrent of celebration is washed out by the tragic subject matter. However, none of that would really matter if it were not for the episode’s beautiful execution. It is a reminder that grieving is not always a process that starts and stops immediately. Never seeing a role model, a mother, takes a toll that is not easily paid. Sometimes, it even requires getting that grief thrown right back in our faces while friends sit right outside closed doors and cry with us.
Rhapsodise! 