God, I’ve been working through Banana Fish for the story I’m currently writing, and I just got to the section where Ash has to kill Shorter to save Eiji, and I forgot how absolutely brutal it is, and how fucking evil Arthur is. He’s devastatingly cruel to Ash, and so is that piece of shit Abraham Dawson. I started crying while going through this section, even though I knew what was coming. Just the way Ash breaks down into sobs after shooting Shorter is one of the most heartbreaking moments in all of literature. It also reminded me why I think it’s so ridiculous when people accuse Akimi Yoshida of killing Ash in the end for shock value, because it so dismissive of how well-crafted a story Banana Fish is, and also of the fact that, from the very start, this was always a tragedy. The fact Shorter dies, that he isn’t able to overcome the drug, and Ash has to kill him, was a major red flag that this story wasn’t going to have some happy, fairytale ending, and is one of many fundamental plot points which builds to and foreshadows the end. Ash killing Shorter is, after all, what both directly and indirectly leads to his own death, and I don’t think it’s an accident that the one act Ash could never forgive himself for is the same one which ultimately leads to his demise. It’s brilliant foreshadowing. It’s the story showing us in microcosm the devastating result of Ash’s trauma, how the destruction of his sense of self-worth, and his self-loathing, is almost a metaphor for his death. He believes himself unworthy of love, because of the abuse he’s suffered and the things he’s had to do to survive, and that negative self-perception is, in the end, what kills him, as he turns away from Eiji. And Shorter’s death at his hands is the greatest encapsulation of his self-loathing. Ash was never going to make it because he couldn’t love himself, even as he had immeasurable love for others, and that’s part of what makes Banana Fish, and Ash specifically, such a perfect tragedy. He had so much good to give, but he couldn’t see it, couldn’t believe it, was robbed of the ability to love himself because of the cruelty of others, because he was a child who was allowed to fall through the cracks and into the hands of his abusers. His story and the way it ends shows us all the ruinous results of when adults fail to protect children. It’s uncompromising in that message, and it’s what makes it such a powerful work of art. Akimi Yoshida should be praised for having the conviction to stick to the story’s core themes, especially when that theme is of such vital importance, instead of being bad-mouthed because readers got their feelings hurt.
