SnK 85 Thoughts

The true hero of this chapter is Levi’s intolerance of any and all suspense building.

“…But… why… would you choose… me?”

“Personal feelings and your whiny friends.”



“The key doesn’t fit!”

“It’s a fucking wood door. *KRACK*”

“The basement is a nondescript workplace!”

“If you’re a moron.”



“The drawer is empty!”

“…No. FFS.”

I’ve never taken issue with Armin looking so similar to Historia before, because why would you decry such fantastic conspiracy theory material?

I currently take issue.

Throughout all of the in-universe drama that’s gotten us here, I’ve been pretty negative about this story decision. The fact that we have another over-stressed tiny blond being asked to take on a role they aren’t prepared for isn’t something I care about. The looming probability of Armin getting a huge upgrade in time spent on him while his version of this arc plays out mostly makes me wish that Levi loved his boyfriend a little less.

That isn’t to say that fascinating things can’t be done with where we’re at, but Armin getting dragged into the spotlight is nails on a chalkboard to me at this point. Forget other characters having had this arc; he’s had portions of this arc before.

The scene on the wall mimics the scene around the campfire after Armin’s brush with murder. He’s in shock and trauma, a person is dead, and Levi’s around to keep everyone on point.

Jean’s development was being highlighted back then, but that only makes it slightly less frustrating.

One of the complicated things about Armin is that he is not really built for all of this. Armin is part of the Survey Corps because he has a sharp, cynical view of the world, and a stark idealism that pushes him to weaponize that. He wants to change the world.

At the same time, he’s very young, vastly inexperienced in the tools he sees as his trade, and, against all odds, really, really sensitive.

This is a boy who wants to emulate a man that can have his arm ripped off and still think of the mission. A kid whose mind leaps to lies of torture and political horror with all the complexity of a connect-the-dots book. A boy whose reflexes can kill someone before he’s ever emotionally prepared for it.

Armin understands the world he lives in very well.

That has done little to keep bloodshed, violence, and the enormity of carrying on the weight of humanity from scaring the crap out of him.

He’s adapted well, and Eren’s right about him being brave, but his emotional ability to cope still has a very thin margin. His worldview places him closer to the Eren and Mikasa side of average human experience than the Sasha, Jean, Connie edge, but when it comes to stress, his mentality switches to the far end of normal.

The reason I’m bringing this up is because of Shinji Ikari.

…That was put in much prettier terms multiple times.

Shinji Ikari is one of the greatest examples of a fanbase finding the basic spectrum of human emotion infuriating. Does his situation suck? Absolutely. Is any part of it fair? Nope.

Should he still get in the robot?

Duh.

The problem that usually occurs when writers attempt to portray humanity realistically in a world of the fantastical is that… well, it isn’t that pleasant to watch. You have this world, full of things beyond the boundaries of our reality, but then you have these humans, and they’re just as frail as they are here.

I don’t really want to talk about the merits and flaws in that type of writing, so truthfully, I should have kept any mention of Evangelion far, far away from this post.

Oh well.



I don’t mind Shinji (I save my minding for the rest of Evangelion), and I disagree with most of the stereotypical complaints you see about him, however, fan reaction to him is a pretty good example of how I really don’t want to feel about Armin.

In my “I have thought about this for maybe five minutes and that gives me the right to a serious opinion about it,” opinion, part of the irritation with Shinji comes from him not following the script. He reacts like a sane…ish person to everything that happens, and that’s not how the story’s supposed to go.

In a perfect world, the characters, plot, and theme of a story all work together.

General reaction to Evangelion was that Shinji was getting in the way of the story–instead of being the story, which he was.

In Shinji’s case, I don’t agree.

In Armin’s, through no fault of Armin’s, I’m dreading that possibility.

This story has never been Armin’s. He’s been an integral part of it, but he’s the main character’s best friend, not the main character.

What that means is that, given a very relevant piece of what makes Eren the main character, it is a thousand times easier to draw unfavorable comparisons. It’s then made worse because we’ve done this before, and, in all likelihood, with someone who could handle the abominable weirdness slightly better.

Armin’s emotional arc of horror and adjustment is not new to him or the story. A character’s arc response to being a titan is the only reason this story has gotten to this point.

If Armin gets the arc he deserves for being read into the plot this thoroughly, we get a lot of pages of a person’s open, emotional adjustment to non-consensual cannibalism granting you superpowers.

For the series, the idea of focusing on someone in Eren’s situation who is a little less… Eren isn’t a bad one.

But Armin is not the prime example of human normalcy to Eren’s human firestorm. Armin is weird in his own ways, none of which are going to get a chance to shine until he’s allowed to come to terms with the fuckery that he’s been landed in.

And because Armin is Armin, he does need that time.

Also because Armin is Armin, this month’s edition of gaunt, traumatized panels from him is–well, I’d say the first of many, but it’s more the middle of many, since again, we’ve been here before.

In the end, we could find that using Armin as a research subject works way better than using Eren, due to the personalities involved. We could find all sorts of useful things out because now there is an Armin filling a shifter’s position.

For my bitter self, it’s hard to envision that coming without a whole lot of repetitive, unfun material. I guess it’s a way to kill time until the next major arc shift (and something to slide in between plot revelations), but personally, I think it impedes the larger story.



On the other end, if Armin’s response to all of this isn’t given a detailed emotional arc… that’s really not fair to Armin.

You could take all of this going on, use it to paint a beautiful Mikasa arc about watching her friends face burdens she can’t protect them from, giving her glorious discussions with a host of other characters about how she feels, following it up with Ackerman family secrets and the secrets of her mother’s side–

–and fuck it, not detailing Armin’s personal experience would still feel unfair. I would greatly prefer all of that to spending any time at all on Armin dealing with this recycled material, but while Armin’s not the main character, he’s too significant not to spend time on in light of all of this.

I’m not saying the next stage of the story can’t be done well. Everything I’m whining about could turn out to be my favorite content, for all I know.



I’m just saying that wild mundane titan!Kenny would have been more fun.

With that, I think the complaining portion of this is done.

Now we get to–well, unfortunately, I think the parts of the story I’m upset about are the most interesting parts of the chapter to me.

The revelation that there are people outside doesn’t count as a revelation, because see RAB and others. Even the part about them being more technologically advanced isn’t too much of a shock, since it has long been foreshadowed by Annie’s hoodie.

…Look, I’m a really boring person when it comes to plot.

Anyway, I’m partially kidding, but that won’t stop me from pointing at Annie’s hoodie and shouting “IT WAS FORETOLD!” for the sheer fun of it. Except I won’t do that, because even through the internet I can already feel judgmental stares.

There’s still no telling if the society Grisha belongs to has any connection to the society that Zeke and co. live in. Obviously, Zeke and Grisha are connected (I think I saw something about Zeke possibly being his son, picture at the back of the chapter, with titan nonsense leaving them less distantly aged than they might have been, and that’s honestly a pretty reasonable guess), but Grisha has been absent from outside the walls for years, and Zeke has enough issues that I could totally buy him being banished.

Basically, knowing that out there, somewhere, there’s a group of people established enough to take pictures, tells us nothing except that.

Zeke’s group of Warriors don’t seem like they’ve lived any kind of easy life, so for my personal thoughts, I’m torn between them being the first line of defense for these people who live in luxury, something going horribly wrong to collapse this society, and the Warriors and Grisha’s lot being completely separate things.

I think what we know of the basement so far spawns more questions than answers. If people outside the walls can chillax and take pictures, what’s up with the Warriors? If they live close enough that Grisha can run into the Scouts, what are they doing to avoid the problem of mass death that the titans pose on every single scouting expedition? Where do Ymir’s people fit into this?

We’re probably going to get a huge infodump soon. I welcome this, because it makes me feel less guilty about having so little to say about the plot possibilities. At this point, waiting for the manga to explain itself is probably more efficient than making guesses.

(See the above “boring” statement, and bask in its truth.)

We’ve also still got the greater response from all of the top brass regarding how there are nine people left to represent an entire military branch. The news that Wall Maria is now sealed buys them some good will, but the understanding of how simple it is for their enemies to retake it, and how many lives were lost for a (at this point) symbolic victory is going to create some unavoidable tension. What we’ve seen of Grisha’s basement so far also isn’t enough information to really justify what’s happened.

Hopefully, they’ll keep the good opinion of the people, but that’s about the only place where any variation of the word hope can be used. You can’t fight a war with nine people.

I really loved Hange this chapter, because you’ve got to appreciate how nothing in her life is going remotely right currently. Her whole squad is dead, her closest friend alive decided to add their commanding officer to that list, placing her in command in the darkest hour their branch has ever had, and her interest in continuing the good fight has done nothing to deny her awareness of how totally unfair all of this has been.

She’ll make an excellent commander, but it’s a shame that she has to be.

Eren and Mikasa heading home also hurts in magnificent ways. Carla’s shoe is still there, and the wreck Bertolt made of their house is untouched outside of the growing grass. Like everything to do with Shiganshina in this arc, it’s quiet and perfect.

I also enjoyed them opening up Dr. Yeager’s book together. Eren’s personal development came up before this arc truly got underway, but seeing both of them back at home, cooperating, is fantastic. The last time they were both under this roof, Mikasa was ratting Eren out for wanting to be a Scout, and he was snapping at her for it. Now, they’re on the same page.

Literally, they’re both touching it.

Also, do we have confirmation on the narrator, or are we going with the idea that the narrator switches depending on convenience?

I’m fine with either, but Eren’s definitely the narrator for the end of this chapter, so for once, no points to you, anime. Except for highlighting Armin’s significance before it was cool.

Next month: Can has letter?

