Why is Fujifabric's "Akaneiro no Yuuhi" so gentle? — The structure of a non-assertive perspective
Introduction
"Akaneiro no Yuuhi" (Madder Red Sunset) was written and composed by Masahiko Shimura and released as Fujifabric's sixth single.
Even today, it boasts a high number of views on video streaming sites, following "Wakamono no Subete" and "Akakiiro no Mokusei," and remains a song that has been listened to for many years.
Regarding the lyrics of this song, there are many
emotional
,
sensory interpretations, such as: "The sadness of the end of summer" "Memories of youth" "Shimura's warm voice""The beautiful scenery of the sunset" and these are, of course, understandable ways to receive it.
However, if you follow the lyrics of this song carefully, another structure emerges that cannot be expressed solely by the feeling of "sadness." It is a flow of extremely logical thought expressed from the narrator's worldview.
The narrator does not strongly affirm or deny. That phrasing that avoids assertion supports the gentleness of the entire song. (*Note: Out of consideration for copyright, I will only include partial lyrics.)
Chapter 1: The scene I remember when looking at the madder red sunset
At the beginning of the lyrics, the narrator is looking at the sunset somewhere and suddenly remembers the past.
Madder red sunset~ I remembered something a little
As the song enters the chorus, a monologue continues about how "you" were shedding tears, and that the narrator cannot forget it. Here, it is not yet clear why the narrator is immersed in memories.
However, as it enters the second verse, the concrete scenery of the lyrics begins to emerge. The season is the end of summer. And in the chorus, we learn that the narrator is in Tokyo.
Here, the outline of the reminiscence in the first verse finally comes into view. In other words, this is a structure where the narrator, who has moved to Tokyo, is looking at the sunset and remembering their hometown.
What emerges from this reminiscence is the narrator's somewhat weak-willed attitude.
They recall "your" smile and "things that are helplessly sad," and say they cannot forget the memory of the tears. Furthermore, from the sentimentality toward the changing of the seasons, one can also see a struggle of not being able to fully grow up.
Even though they moved to Tokyo to pursue their dreams, their footing is not stable. The narrator is looking at the sunset amidst that instability.
This wavering state is the premise for the way the narrator views the world later on.
Chapter 2: When weakness turns into a "non-judgmental perspective"
The narrator's reminiscence deepens little by little along with the color of the sunset. At its center is the memory of "your" tears.
From your small eyes
Large tears~
I cannot forget
What I want to focus on here is the description of "small eyes." Usually, this is a scene where one would want to embellish it by drawing "large eyes."
However, the narrator dares to say "small eyes." Of course, it is clear that this is a contrast with "large tears," but it can also be read as an expression of a gaze that does not force the subject to be beautified, but accepts the contours of the details as they are.
Weakness, tears, and the smallness of the eyes are all affirmed as they are. The narrator's affirmation of weakness is transformed into a softness of perspective that accepts others as they are.
Furthermore, the narrator directs the same attitude toward themselves.
The passion I conveyed to you
~was pathetic
And later I felt a little empty
The narrator asserts that their passion was "pathetic." And they also let a slight emptiness seep through by saying, "I felt a little empty later." That low self-evaluation does not act as mere self-loathing, but as a sincerity that does not grandiosely embellish emotions. Rather, there is a quiet attitude of accepting weakness as weakness.
The narrator is not ashamed of their own weakness.
That is precisely why it does not deny the weaknesses of others. What is born here is a perspective that does not strongly assert or make assumptions.
This softness of perspective is what leads to the structure of kindness that the narrator later demonstrates.
Chapter 3: The meaning of 'it's not that I can't see them'
The affirmation of the narrator's weakness eventually influences the way they view the world itself. The culmination of this is this passage.
I was told that the stars in the Tokyo sky
could not be seen, but
it's not that I can't see them
First, literally, Tokyo has many lights, making it difficult to see the stars. However, another meaning lurks within these words, 'the stars cannot be seen.' It is the rejection of the city of Tokyo held by the people back home.
The stars in the Tokyo sky cannot be seen
In these words, one can see the inclusion of metaphors such as
Tokyo is cold,
Tokyo is dangerous,
Tokyo lacks human warmth,
representing the distrust and wariness toward the big city from the perspective of the countryside.
The narrator does not accept that rejection as it is. However, they also do not strongly deny it in return.
it's not that I can't see them
This double negative resonates as an attitude that does not completely reject either the values of the hometown or the reality of Tokyo.
The narrator does not divide the world into black and white. The weakness of not asserting becomes, in itself, a softness of perspective.
What the narrator is showing here is a
non-assuming perspective = a structure of kindness based on weakness. This is not an emotion, but the very mechanism of the narrator's perception of the world.
When the narrator says, 'it's not that I can't see the stars,' there is a perspective at work that avoids assertion, rather than mere observation. This perspective is also consciously shown after the chorus of the second verse.
I probably can't do it~
saying what I really think~
it's fine to be irresponsible, la la la
I ended up thinking such things
(shimatta, shimatta)
Here, the narrator cannot even state their own feelings clearly. The final 'shimatta' (oops/darn), as sung in a shouting manner, shows an awareness of the inability to make a firm decision. Could this 'shimatta' be an interjection (like 'Oh!', 'Ah!', etc.) rather than an auxiliary verb indicating completion?
This is less about indecisiveness and more about a hesitation to break something by stating it definitively. Furthermore, this 'shimatta' goes beyond a mere expression of hesitation. It includes a self-awareness of the moment they somehow affirmed the 'self that cannot speak its true feelings'.
The narrator is looking back at themselves for having felt that 'it's fine to be irresponsible.' In other words, this 'shimatta' is not a judgment itself, but an expression of discomfort toward 'having made a judgment'.
What is revealed here is the tug-of-war between the impulse to assert and the consciousness that tries to reject it.
The narrator knows the possibility of finding relief by stating something clearly, yet they still try to be cautious about doing so. As a result, the word 'shimatta' is uttered with a delay.
This delay is what demonstrates the narrator's ethics. It is an unconscious resistance to simply defining the world. And this hesitation is what shapes the narrator's way of viewing the world.
I cannot definitively say that Tokyo is cold,
I cannot definitively say that the stars cannot be seen
That is why an intermediate phrase like 'it's not that I can't see them' is born.
The narrator's kindness appears not as an emotion, but as an attitude of not breaking the world by refusing to make definitive assertions.
Conclusion: The intermediate perspective shown by the madder-red light
So, what is the significance of calling the sunset madder-red (akaneiro)?
Madder-red is not a color that makes a strong statement. It is the color of the world quietly transitioning from day to night, from affirmation to negation.
The narrator's perspective is very similar to this madder-red. They cannot strongly affirm the world. Yet, they cannot strongly deny it either.
They try to find a faint light in the place that is neither one nor the other. The double negative, it's not that I can't see it, is the phrase where that intermediate perspective appears in its purest form.
The narrator does not make assertions about the world. After accepting themselves as someone who cannot make assertions, they gently pick up the subtle light within that ambiguity. This perspective could be called a quiet ethics for viewing the world while carrying one's own weaknesses.
"Madder-red sunset
" is precisely the symbol of that ethics. Not a strong light, but a weak one. Not a strong affirmation, but a weak one. It holds a certain warmth in the place that is neither.
What the narrator is gazing at is the faint brightness that surely exists within the world. It is a light that does not deny someone's weakness, and a light that allows one to stand while still carrying their own weaknesses.
"Madder-red sunset" may be quietly showing, somewhere today, a perspective that illuminates someone's weakness and accepts that weakness just as it is.