"If you traumatized someone you care about, you should stay away from them" is not a bad lesson; it's objectively correct. But, who needs to hear that? In general, people who actually care about someone will not do to them what Alti or Paraietta did in the first place. Conversely, people who did what they did are not going to suddenly decide to do the right thing and stay away from their victims just because an anime told them to.
Idk, something feels wrong about a main character being assaulted onscreen just to further the perpetrator's story arc.
The most charitable interpretation I can give of the purpose of the scene and the followup to it, is that it's meant as a criticism of the "rape is love" trope that you see in some shoujo/josei, where a love interest will sexually assault a protagonist because he's just so attracted to her that he lost control, and gets to maintain his close relationship with her afterward without any real consequences. I, don't watch a lot of anime like this, but Rose of Versailles is an example, all the more noteworthy because it's often praised as a feminist work (and in many ways it is an important feminist work, but this aspect of it is not criticized as often as it should be).
The criticism Simoun would be making would be something along the lines of "Well even if a character really did sexually assault someone they actually love because they couldn't control themselves, that's not an excuse, if they really feel bad about what they've done they should stay away from their victim until such a time as their victim decides they want to resume the friendship, if that ever happens." Which is certainly correct, but I'm not convinced that that premise should be entertained in the first place because it overlooks the fact that in general, sexual assault is not about attraction; it is about power.
In any case I'm not even sure if that's what the writers were going for. That's just the most charitable explanation I can think of for why they would have chosen to include that scene, not necessarily the most likely one.
All of this still isn't as bad as what the writers did in episode 12. At least in this case, only the perpetrator is held responsible. The main character responding to "My sister came onto me when I was too vulnerable to say no" with "Well I wasn't there so there's no way for me to know who really started it or who was at fault" and never realizing that this is wrong is definitely the worst thing in this anime, hands down.
Article Summary: Revolutionary Romance: The Rose of Versailles and the Transformation of Shojo Manga by Deborah Shamoon
This is an article about how The Rose of Versailles by Ikeda Ryoko was instrumental in the development of heterosexual romance in shoujo manga.
I know, I know, just hear me out.
In this article (full reference below), Deborah Shamoon argues that The Rose of Versailles’ incredible popularity at the time of publication stems from its unique solution to the romantic restrictions of the shoujo genre. She begins with a summary of the historical and generic context of romance in shoujo media, continues with analysis of romance and gender in Rose of Versailles, and concludes with a brief examination of these themes in adaptations of that work.
Shoujo manga has its roots in the girls’ literary magazines of the 1920s and 1930s, which developed a representation of ‘girls’ culture’ (shoujo bunka) involving a closed world of girls where heterosexual romance was avoided and very close female relationships were framed in romantic and even sexual terms. Such relationships were condoned in contemporary society as a means of delaying heterosexual activity before marriage, so long as both girls remained feminine in appearance. Thus developed an ideal of douseiai (’same-sex love’), where similarity in appearance, dress and behaviour were stressed. Shoujo manga developed out of this tradition and inherited this view of idealised romance.
The Rose of Versailles arose during an important moment in the development of shoujo manga, as in the early 1970s it began to broaden and deepen in scope and target older teenage readers. However, the genre was still highly limited in terms of the ways it depicted romance, both generically and in relation to real power structures. While manga (unlike girls’ magazines) could depict heterosexual romance, it often fell into the ‘love trap’, where female characters were forced to sacrifice their personality and agency in return for the love of a boy. The solution to this was reliance on douseiai, which now included relationships between (identically) beautiful boys who were very feminine in appearance; they could therefore act as a stand-in for female readers’ desires. This was a form of escapist fantasy with little connection to real life.
A major factor in the development of Rose of Versailles was that it was dependent on positive fan feedback to continue being published; as such, Ikeda often altered the story in response to feedback. While it began with focus on Marie Antoinette, who was characterised very similarly to other lively, silly girls of shoujo manga at the time, she was soon eclipsed by the more complex figure of Oscar Francois de Jarjayes. Oscar dresses and behaves like a man while retaining feminine features, and her romantic and political conflicts drive most of the series. Her first brush with romance, Rosalie Lamorliere’s admiration and adoration of her, was classically douseiai; however, this development proved unpopular, as readers could not accept Oscar in a schoolgirl relationship. Oscar then becomes involved in two heterosexual romances, with her unrequited love for Count Ferson and enforced engagement to the Comte de Girodel. However, the former sees her only as a man and the latter only as a woman, neither of which allows for Oscar’s ambiguous gender position.
Finally, Oscar realises that her true love is Andre, a romance depicted in the language of douseiai rather than that of heteroromance. Throughout the story Andre and Oscar come to physically resemble each other and wear similar clothes, and when they finally get together Oscar describes Andre as her shadow and twin, emphasising their sameness. The power imbalance between man and woman is addressed by emphasising his subordinate position as a commoner and increasing his dependence on Oscar by the loss of his sight. He is also feminised: he is inspired by romantic literature and experiences the stereotypically feminine pain of unrequited love. Through this quasi-douseiai relationship between masculine woman and feminised man, Oscar need not compromise her identity to her partner, thereby escaping the ‘love trap’ of shoujo manga.
Rose of Versailles has been adapted into an anime, a live-action movie and a Takarazuka Revue musical. The movie, which was poorly received, fails to use the language of douseiai and makes Andre the stronger partner in the relationship, losing much of what was compelling in the manga romance. In contrast, the Takarazuka Revue developed out of the same cultural background as shoujo manga and features all-female casts, some of whom are specifically trained to play male characters. As such, it is uniquely suited to depicting the douseiai heterosexuality of Oscar and Andre’s relationship.
The Rose of Versailles in general, was hugely important in the development of the shoujo genre. Not least important was the romance of equals depicted between Oscar and Andre, which proved very popular among teenage girls up until the current time. However, it is still the product of compromise between the power imbalance of heterosexual relationships and the unrealistic or immature nature of douseiai, showing that the depiction of equality in heterosexual relationships remains a problem for female writers and readers.
Shamoon, D. 2007. Revolutionary Romance: The Rose of Versailles and the Transformation of Shojo Manga. In Mechademia, Volume 2: Networks of Desire, pp. 3-17. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.
