Learning to let go from Honey & Clover
I’m not sure what first gave me the idea to watch it, but it became apparent almost immediately that it was a good idea. Everyone I talked to seemed suddenly seized by a compulsion to rewatch at least some episodes (in ghostlightning’s case, the whole damn thing in 2 days). No one seemed to have so much as a caveat for me, let alone actual misgivings.
I’m not going to go too much into why it’s made of awesome and win — many have seen it, plenty of blogs praise it even if they don’t agree on the methods, and most people already know lots about JC Staff’s occasionally brilliant skills of execution that can make something as rote as Hatsukoi Limited into a winner and something well written into animated gold. The true strength of Honey & Clover is not its humor, underplayed dramatic moments, or unwillingness to insultingly explain key points to you out loud; it’s the writing, plain and simple. As a fan you’ve probably spent at least a little time justifying why anime isn’t kids’ stuff, but you’re often repaid by archetyped characters bouncing around a high school and crying a lot. Honey & Clover is your true reward. Even the theme that I most wanted to talk about is a little more “mature” than what you normally see: That’s letting go, one of the series’ many central threads that runs throughout. I’m picking ONE because apparently I can write almost 2,000 words about it, so to take on the whole thing would be extreme fucking insanity.
Something atypical for me: I try to leave them out normally, but there will probably be big spoilers.
