The meaning of rain in Garden of Words
Today is a rainy day, and I’ve just watched the Garden of Words (beautiful Makoto Shinkai movie, go ahead and watch it. It’s from the guy who directed Your Name) so I figured it would be a good idea to look at the meaning of rain in this movie and how the two main characters relate to it.
Rain is usually associated with depression, feelings of sadness or the cry of nature. Whatțs so beautiful about this film is that it regards rain as a chance to be reborn. Biologically speaking, rainwater is one of the purest forms of water and it’s often used by nature as a means to replenish its resources.
Water itself is often seen as a symbol of life, being one of the things that may cause death easiest if missing from a human’s life. In that regard, water can be associated with being born and growing up, with life but also with development.
And for Garden of Words, development is the key word. For both of the main characters, rain means being reborn, often associating it with the phrase: “I was learning how to walk”, read as: “I was discovering myself. I was trying to find myself and my ways again. I was trying to be reborn.”
It’s interesting to see how, even if both characters see rain as such, their age differences and life experiences, together with their outlook on life still influence the side meanings they give to rain.
For the boy, rain is an excuse for him to skip school, and for him to design shoes in a park. For this young soul, the water that pours over the world helps him close himself in his own little world, where he can be himself, as Yukino also notices. Rain helps seclude him from the others, and it purifies: he can finally forget about living alone and having to work part time to sustain himself financially; he forgets about the people telling him he won’t succeed; he forgets about school and his exams and becomes himself, a person he can only be when no-one is around.
And then there’s her: she’s always sad, so for her, rain is only the exteriorisation of an interior feeling. She is always secluded, so a rainy day gives her an excuse to feel lonely. But what’s interesting is that she never stays in, not even when it’s raining. She always goes out to that park, even before and after meeting him, because rain becomes somewhat of a companion to her. She had already lost herself, so unlike the young boy discovering himself in the rain, she can lose herself in it.
But as the sound of pitter pattering becomes endearing to both of them, the meaning of rain starts to change. He begins to discover others exist, even in his secluded little world; she begins to understand more of herself, living through this boy’s dreams. And slowly, both of them are reborn, him as he founds someone to share his dreams with, and her, never sharing insecurities, yet being saved by the fact that he opens up.
It’s fascinating how until the very end, she never truly talks about herself, and how, when she finally does, it’s raining with sunshine. The pitter patter is always tuned to their feelings, but mostly to hers, as she’s the one most damaged and the water has to repair.
These are my short-form thoughts on Rain in Garden of Words. I thought it was interesting how, for once, rain develops from depression into being reborn spiritually. Moreover, at the end, there is snow: the crystallized form of rain (one may call it sublime), that shows how much both of them have grown (since adopting the form of ice cubicle demands much more order, which translates to interior, spiritual order of the two main characters.
What do you think? Have you seen the movie? What other visual metaphor left a mark on you? Or what did you think about Makoto Shinkaițs other works? Let me know, I always enjoy talking with you guys!
@paperrabbit13 @bookstvseriesandanimes @jijii-production if you girls haven’t seen this, you totally should! I wanna discuss it with you!
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