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Eden: it's an Endless World

Posted 07.12.2024

Setting the Scene

The point at which I can comfortably call a work a “masterpiece” is when it has become my measure for an entire category of art, the natural comparison for anything I watch or read afterwards.[1]

For most aspects of Manga, my measure is Eden: It’s an Endless World by Hiroki Endo.

 

It’s stylish and ambitious, unpredictable and perceptive. It offers such a wealth of topics, characters, and stories that the fact that it’s “only” 18 volumes long feels wrong because it seems like so much more.

And maybe you already know that. Eden is widely accepted as a Seinen classic after all. Yet it is also one of those Manga where people like to mention that it does interesting things but don’t discuss the actual substance of how.

I want to give a few more detailed impressions, but this is still mostly a “you should go read it” type of review, so I’m trying not to spoil any specific events beyond the first few volumes.

So what makes it special? Hiroki Endo delivers a series that is densely packed, most importantly with characters that act like believable people, but also with the kind of intense blend of social commentary, technology, action and metaphysics that only the harder sort of science fiction can provide while tapping into various other genres along the way. Too many, some might say. But I believe that risk was calculated. If Eden reigned itself in, its world would no longer be endless.


Let’s attempt a quick summary: The world that Eden describes is ravaged by a virus called “Closure” that literally petrifies its victims. The pandemic has been going on for a while, with not exactly apocalyptic effects but severe enough to put a dent in the population, throw politics into turmoil, and generally aggravate a lot of humanity’s problems.[2]

Our protagonist is Elijah Ballard, the teenage son of drug lord Ennoia whose international dealings in the criminal underworld have made him the target of Propater, a paramilitary and vaguely religious organization that came to power during the political chaos caused by the virus, eventually overthrowing NATO.

The main story starts shortly after Propater attacks Elijah’s family at an airport. This operation is partially successful. Elijah manages to escape but his sister Mana is taken hostage.

Now Elijah has to survive in an abandoned city with the help of his robot protector Cherubim and he soon crosses paths with a band of mercenaries, affiliated with an “economic group” called NOMAD who are hunting down a mysterious microchip that also has Propater’s attention.

 

It’s one hell of a set-up that expertly positions Elijah right on the intersection of the setting’s tangled web of family, politics, violence and ultimately faith. Oh, there’s also the 117-page prologue encompassing several decades that could almost stand on its own as an allegorical science fiction novella.


The unashamed maximalism (as well as, yes, the sex and the violence) is very much the selling point here. There is a lot to unpack and reading Eden you will find nearly anything except restraint of any kind.

It is the sort of story where with every reread I discover more to unravel, more intricacies and connections that I missed before and more viewpoints to engage with, even after a decade. 

And I say that as somebody for whom most nostalgic media, more often than not, crumbles when faced with reality.  

A Manga of Ideas

This is not a work that attempts to mask what it is about or lets subtext sneak up on the reader. The delivery is direct, and many of its themes aren’t really subtext but very much part of the text proper. To some, this style might seem too blunt and they probably won’t make it past the prologue’s first servings of metaphysical debates, although it’s worth noting that, as the manga continues, Endo improves at folding the philosophical tangents into the dialogue more organically than in early volumes.

 

Some stories come with themes attached to a plot, others come with a plot attached to a theme; The exact mixture is a narrative choice.[3] In works like Eden, the story consists of assorted events designed to illuminate ideas and issues. However it’s the themes themselves that act as the main “connective tissue” between the different sections. There are pitfalls to this approach and I’ll discuss how they are dealt with later, but for now, here’s a basic breakdown:

 

In my interpretation, the essential theme of Eden is responsibility and morality in the face of a fundamentally unpredictable world. No matter what soothing narratives people or societies build up, the truth is that reality does not take sides and nothing is guaranteed, no matter how well a scenario is planned. How do we deal with that knowledge? How does it affect someone’s morals? How much responsibility do we have as individuals to rectify anything we might have gained unfairly?


Such weighty themes involve a lot of philosophical and ethical topics on which a variety of characters have lots of opinions. What keeps the Manga from feeling preachy is the fact that in true existentialist fashion, Eden frames these opinions within the context of those individual characters and their circumstances, with no omniscient narration pronouncing judgment. There are only people living their lives with the cards they were dealt.[4]

 

Religion also plays a part here, sometimes purely symbolically, sometimes not so much. But even the aspects that, within the setting of the story, go beyond the strictly metaphysical are presented with an eye toward their strangeness, that gulf between ancient imagery and the workings of modern society.

To get a better sense of how the series approaches its characters and themes, let’s take a closer look at the aforementioned prologue.

Dissecting the Prologue

Taking place 20 years before the events of the main plot, the prologue tells the story of two teenagers, Hanna and Ennoia who are seemingly immune to the Closure virus and have escaped the global chaos on an isolated island in the ruins of a research facility. The only other survivor is their mentor Layne but his time is running out as the infection slowly robs him of his mobility. There is much discussion about topics such as survivor’s guilt, religion and the definition of sin in general (we’re told Ennoia enjoys the Bible “exclusively as a work of literature”) and the usual existentialist arguments like surviving off the death of fellow living beings.

Even at this early stage, the story flows back and forth between a number of different plot threads dealing with the characters’ lives in the present and chronicling the past and eventual downfall of the facility (which used to be its own closed ecosystem, isolated from the outside world) via flashbacks.

During these flashbacks another important character is Ennoia’s father, Chris. A childhood friend of Layne’s who picked a military career while Layne dedicated himself to research. Things turn complicated when Chris gets involved with an organization that might not be as benign as they claim.

 

In the present, the story at first seems to set up the familiar narrative of the chosen survivors… except it’s not that simple and the characters know it isn’t.

They recognize that their survival was pure chance, that they shouldn’t feel special, but it sure is tempting. For all they know, not much is left beyond the island and being immune to the virus they perhaps are destined to be the vanguard of a revitalized humanity, Adam and Eve setting out from Eden.

But the illusion only lasts until the military helicopters arrive at their doorstep.


The good news is that the pandemic has “only” killed approximately 15% of humanity. The bad news is that the Organization their father joined turned out to be Propater and their coup against the UN is commencing at this very moment. Chris also has a bone to pick with Layne for providing falsified data about the contagion years earlier, and betraying his involvement with Propater to the US government.

 

One reason for this was that Layne never felt Propater was trustworthy. But in that case he could have simply refused Chris’ request for cooperation. Instead, he reeled his friend in with a particularly incendiary lie (alleging that the virus originally leaked from a US military lab) and watched the chaos ensue.

Why such an overreaction? Layne himself claims that it was out of nihilistic despair, quickening the apocalyptic decline of humanity by pouring oil into the fire. A reset button for the world, for all sins.

The culprit behind the incident which wrecked the facility, broke its isolation and exposed it to the virus gave a similar reason before committing suicide.

 

 

This is the first instance of the story introducing religious symbolism and theoretical philosophy with an element of doubt. You get the impression that the narrative itself doesn’t buy the characters’ convenient justifications. As people, we hide what is painful and personal behind flashy concepts like “humanity’s sins” that feel safe because of their distance, and their abstractness. And beyond Layne’s grandiose statements, we can glimpse something more specific and selfish, perhaps even a sense of spite in raising Ennoia “as his own” instead of Chris.

In a way, the prologue is just as much about Layne and Chris as it is about Ennoia and Hannah but with Layne succumbing more and more to Closure, we never get a concrete answer about his motives. Eventually, the illness reduces him to nothing more than a statue.

 

This is not the only instance of characters being denied a definite resolution. Throughout the chapter, Ennoia repeatedly asks himself what sort of person his father was. The story seems to build up to a meeting between the two. 

But reality turns out very differently, establishing clearly that the world isn’t obligated to give anyone what they want, no matter how much “narrative sense” it would make. While reading Eden you should always keep that perspective in mind. 

 

But it is the rejection of “being chosen” that resonates the most out of all themes the chapter develops. Although it seems like another denial of the characters’ relevance, it is, in the end, not a pessimistic statement at all; instead it is an affirmation of human resilience in general. If there are chosen ones, that’s bad for everyone who isn’t

It’s a good thing that Hannah and Ennoia aren’t uniquely special. People everywhere have been holding on to life just as desperately as them, through different means. They too believe they are saving the world. Everyone is the chosen one in their mind.

This is the thesis statement of the prologue.

An Existential Mosaic

After such a dense introduction, the rest of the volume wisely dials it down a bit: The next two chapters are a fairly deliberately paced story of Elijah’s wanderings in an abandoned city.

The change in focus also shifts the philosophical perspective: From the survival of humanity as a whole to the survival of individuals, again with a pragmatic and existentialist outlook:

This statement, its implications as well as contradictions, serve as an introduction to Eden’s thematic focus on characters and their choices, its fascination with our capability of both love and cruelty, and the uncomfortable situations in which the two intersect.

Again, this teaching is not presented as a definite fact. It is the perspective of a single character and at this moment the audience has at least partially glimpsed how he ended up with this mentality.

Elijah does not yet know if he should accept his father’s “wisdom” and all that comes with it. This is something that all Ennoia’s children have to grapple with, some reacting in more extreme ways than others.

 

While Elijah takes the role of the protagonist for the first and a few other volumes, he is still only our entry point to Eden’s main plot. Soon enough the Manga switches almost to an ensemble approach, as the focus shifts from Elijah to the people around him, diving into their backstories, perspectives, and even arcs that might not involve Elijah at all.


The diversity of its cast is the key to the versatility of the whole work. Eden’s story can be many things, depending on whose eyes we’re seeing it.

A coming of age gangster story when it’s about Elijah, geopolitical action drama when it’s following the mercenaries, a technothriller when a scientist is in focus and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. It’s an endless world indeed, one too complex and multifaceted to be parsed through the perspective of only one character. 

As alluded to earlier, a common criticism of Eden is that especially in later parts, it “doesn’t know what it wants to be”, to which I can only reply that it clearly and very deliberately wants to be everything.

 

Still, to call the resulting plot structure erratic would be an understatement. It’s hard to fault anyone feeling lost or developing doubts about the direction of the story following some of the more drastic narrative shifts. For example, in a subsequent arc when Elijah finds himself in the company of characters who are not exactly technologically inclined, the entire “science” portion of Eden’s science fiction plot just kind of falls off a cliff.[5] And when, after another few volumes, the science suddenly swoops in again at full force with paragraphs of jargon courtesy of newly introduced scientist characters, the effect is rather jarring.


But on the other hand, Eden has been completed and fully translated for over a decade now[6] and the trepidation of “will it pay off?” one might experience when following an ongoing publication does not apply anymore. Eden does indeed pay off, with a finale that, while not perfect, ties together most of its themes.

And sure, not all of its disparate parts are dealt with in the same depth. But even the aspects of the story that get the comparatively short end of the stick are handled better and with more nuance than most Manga manage to treat their primary theme. That has to count for something.

 

I also maintain that the aforementioned existential themes of uncertainty and chance justify, to some extent, the plot’s refusal to follow much of a predictable path. Just like the characters themselves, we’re meant to deal with the whims of fate (if there is such a thing) as they happen.


The primary weakness of the novel of ideas is often cited as the abstract concepts overpowering the characters, causing the story to feel sterile and impersonal.

Eden escapes this fate by virtue of Endo’s skill in writing characters as people. No matter how out-there the bigger picture plot gets (and it does get very weird) the action remains centered around poignant personal experiences and individual choices, with even minor characters having a surprising amount of depth, sometimes established through extensive flashbacks.

Even though it doesn’t always seem like it, Eden is fundamentally empathetic. Of the people featured in the story, some are driven, some are aimless, often they are flawed and conflicted, but they are consistently presented as worth understanding. It’s why I don’t mind the Manga’s strange digressions or characters that technically don’t contribute much to the main plot.

 

It does, however, inherit a secondary weakness from its literary inspirations: Namely, that characters, as tools for showcasing differing views, can appear a little bit too eager to expound on their beliefs and backstories to anyone who might listen, and being a smidge too aware of what exactly their issues are.

 

Technical terminology is handled differently: Often a term, invented or real, is not explained with dialogue but as a footnote in the margins. Not the most organic way to manage exposition, but still better than having characters explain concepts to each other they should already know.

Getting Gnostic

When it comes to symbolism and subtext, Eden’s mythology of choice is Gnosticism. Usually, this is pointed out rather prominently in summaries of the plot, although, as might be apparent by the lack of mention in previous sections, I don’t perceive it as a major draw of the work. 

The symbolism isn’t unimportant but familiarity with Gnosticism is not exactly required to enjoy the story which is a plus since the majority of the audience is unlikely to be familiar with any aspects that are not directly mirrored in traditional Christianity.

 

For Hiroki Endo, this is clearly a win-win situation because as far as subtext goes Gnosticism is basically free hipster cred. It’s literally non-mainstream Christianity from “before it was cool”, and it’s obvious that Eden does exploit that exoticism to get away with a lot of references and iconography that would seem corny and over the top had they originated in a more popular religion.


It also helps that in terms of interpretation Gnosticism is rather… pliable. Gnostic thought is focused on attaining individual enlightenment and is in some way a system that defies a centralized “canonical” interpretation. This lack of strict central authority can give works borrowing from Gnostic imagery more creative freedom without sacrificing perceived authenticity; Who are we to judge Endo Hiroki’s personal gnosis after all?

This is not to say that Eden uses Western religion purely as arbitrary window dressing like many other anime and manga; Elevating the story stylistically is certainly part of the equation. But Eden grapples sufficiently often with topics of ethics, redemption, guilt, and purpose, all those topics that faith is designed to manage, to make the symbolism feel genuine rather than tacked on.

 

A noteworthy trait of the work is that, as alluded to in the discussion of the prologue, many of the spiritual shenanigans are not lost on the characters themselves. While the story is not self-aware in the true “meta-fictional” sense, prepare for overtly religious names and scenarios being directly pointed out and debated. However, most characters tend to keep a relatively secular stance on things.

To cap off this section, let’s take a look at a prominent example of Eden’s specifically Gnostic symbolism that the story makes only partially explicit: The character of Helena.

 

Helena is a prostitute whom our protagonist meets in the manga’s second volume and a fairly major character in general. Her relationship with Elijah is very deliberately weird and complicated. Elijah has a crush on her, but he is only 15. Helena meanwhile has some conflicted feelings about associating with the son of the man whose organization exploits the rampant drug problems in her profession. Still, she can’t get herself to leave him on his own.

 

The skewed dynamic and Freudian undertones of the arrangement are hard to miss even on the surface.

In a symbolic context, Helena is based on a Gnostic figure of the same name, a companion of the mystic Simon Magus.

Like the character in Eden, this Helena was a prostitute and another important part is that Magnus believed Helena to be the embodiment of the divine idea, the Gnostic term for which is…. Ennoia. In one sense this does parallel Elijah’s view of Helena as someone to look up to, who has confidence in themselves and has seemingly found their way in life against all odds.[7] But it also further highlights the awkward parental component of their relationship, by positioning her as a direct substitute for the father whom he has become disillusioned with. Magus additionally claimed Helena to be Helen of Troy reincarnated. And Eden sure features a fair share of struggles over Helena.

 

Many similar metaphors such as this one are found throughout the work, but there’s really no need to disentangle every instance to keep up with the story.

Stylistic Observations

Maximalist Details

As the pictures included in this article should demonstrate, Eden is a visual treat. The attention to detail is consistently amazing. Faces, buildings, electronics, vehicles, weapons, everything is rendered in a realistic and meticulous style. Naturally, this being a somewhat older work, it’s that classic coarse and handcrafted realism that avoids the traced aesthetic of modern more hyperrealist Manga techniques. A good stylistic comparison would be Katsuhiro Otomo but with more focus on intricate technology.

 

There’s an aspect of body horror too, first with the depiction of Closure symptoms and also with many of the cyborg designs.

These two topics are related within the setting: Much of the advancements in cybernetics was driven by the pandemic, as Closure victims with sufficient funds try to keep ahead of the illness by replacing more and more of their infected body parts with cybernetic prosthetics. So most of what we encounter are not sleek fashion statements but desperate measures (with a few combat enhancements thrown in as well, in case of the more militant characters).

Eden ran for 10 years and is Hiroki Endo’s first output that wasn’t a short story. As such, the manga is a great look at Endo’s gradual growth and change as an artist.[8]

But it’s not like the manga starts off ugly. Even in the initial volumes Eden looks fantastic, as did a lot of Endo’s earlier One-shots. Yet there are many small changes you can notice over time, a few awkward stylistic flaws getting ironed out such as animals looking significantly better in later parts, and a few more types of faces showing up. The last point is important because Endo’s struggle with overly similar character designs is among the only serious visual blemishes of the work, especially given the large cast.[9]

 

By the end of the Manga, the art appears far more streamlined and consistent, but to me personally, that was somewhat of a trade-off. Early Eden with its rough linework and grungy detail had more of a gritty cyberpunk aesthetic, the cleaner style of later volumes just looks a bit less textured and unique.

Close Quarters Choreography

But it’s not just the details and environments that are a sight to behold. The same can be said for the expertly choreographed action.

 

It’s hard to discuss this part of the manga without also talking a bit about the somewhat divisive character who does most of the fighting: Kenji.

Kenji kills a lot. Within the thematic context of the story, he acts as a cynical satire of the model soldier: Hard to kill but with nothing to live for, a rabid dog sicced onto whoever or whatever the commander in charge of him wants out of the way. Kenji is a shell, lacking even the grim motivation or unconventional moral code of most nineties anti-heroes.

Violence is almost all he knows. Even if we view this aimlessness as another instance of existentialist commentary, he unsurprisingly doesn’t make for the most intriguing character (although there arguably is some development later) and the criticism that his hyper-competence in combat cheapens the otherwise ever-present theme of human vulnerability is not without merit.

 

But the main point is, when Kenji goes to work, prepare for no-holds-barred carnage. 

No-holds-barred is meant literally. Fights in Eden offer more than the generic fantasy Kung Fu of most Manga. Besides a variety of long- and short-range weaponry, Endo’s approach to action incorporates a wide selection of modern fighting styles including grappling and wrestling.[10]

Like the rest of the art, fights are presented with an eye for details and intricacies. The choreography has a great sense of flow, allowing you to follow every strike and counterattack, which is especially impressive during ground combat.

 

In reality most confrontations end on the floor, yet you wouldn’t know that from fiction. But why? When both combatants are on their feet, you have speed, a wide range of motion, and generally lots of athleticism that naturally looks good. On the ground and in very close quarters grappling, however, the fight tends to become about preventing movement, restricting the opponent, a sweaty tangle of limbs. According to the wisdom of conventional action there is very little spectacle here, it’s too awkward and slow and, compared to straightforward punches and kicks, too hard for the audience to parse.

Eden proves this logic wrong, showcasing that with enough skill you can make all of it, the takedowns, chokeholds, arm locks, etc., look dynamic, legible and gripping (pun intended). The art manages to impressively convey the raw force and momentum involved, that frantic struggle for control.

 

It was a fresh approach, especially for the time. This was years before Donnie Yen infused MMA into the choreography of his Hong Kong thrillers and long before Hajime Isayama’s Attack on Titan catapulted the sport into mainstream anime relevance by integrating it into many of its Titan battles. And Eden still holds up great today.

On Portraying Violence

There is a lot of quite graphic violence in Eden. This might not sound special because “graphic violence” is a stereotypical ingredient in Seinen Manga, and yet the violence in Eden hits differently even when compared to other notoriously brutal series.

 

Not all depictions of violence are created equal and going judging only by quantity would be oversimplifying a fascinating topic. There’s no doubt that violence can be portrayed and utilized in tremendously diverse ways. Just contrast in the hyper-stylized gory action of Hellsing, with the approach of a psychological drama like Monster.

 

There are Manga in which cleanly sliced-off limbs surrounded by flashy fountains of blood form their own grim aesthetic. Sometimes, taking the violence over the top helps to distance it from reality, turning it into nothing more than morbid fun. Eden offers lots of exciting action, but at the same time goes to significant lengths to portray violence itself as very much not fun. There is no attempt at cartoonish stylization or neatness. Death is ugly, messy, and always horrifying. Blood splatters and pools in chaotic, dirty-looking splotches, gore is a matter of grimy chunks with hints of bones and guts. In short, the violence feels grounded[11] rather than titillating.

Even when “used” skillfully, the ultimate outcome of such violence is not artistic or anything great to behold. There’s only the abrupt disintegration of life into disorganized matter, emphasizing its fragility and identifying violence with the terrifying finality of its consequences. 

 

This results in the art striking an ironically delicate balance of showcasing captivating action while also keeping the presentation of its brutality deliberately hard to digest.

This approach prevents the story from losing its bite while in lesser works even carnage runs the risk of becoming dull and standardized.

Conclusion

Eden is one of the wildest rides a science fiction Manga can take you on, and believe me when I tell you that this review/overview only scratches the surface.

Discussing the story while avoiding spoilers is very hard for this particular kind of work. For a normal series, you can talk about how the usual narrative developments are handled that everyone implicitly expects from the genre but that approach doesn’t work when the story just refuses to follow any conventional structure.

The best way is still to experience it for yourself.

 

Perhaps, during my next reread of the Manga, I might write a full-on spoiler retrospective analysis of the series either arc by arc or even volume by volume. I’m already looking forward to it.

  1. ^This does not mean perfection was achieved. It's absolutely possible for a work to be a masterpiece in one aspect and merely average in another.[1]
  2. ^Instead of post-apocalyptic, let's go with post-crisis; Anyone looking for the usual plot of rebuilding life from society's ruins, with any power structures reduced to the bare necessities, will be disappointed to find regular countries and politics alive and (for the most part) well.
  3. ^To cite examples that took a similar approach, what were the actual sequences of events making up the plot of novels like Catch-22, Gravity's Rainbow or Solaris? I could piece together a chronological sequence if I tried but it would miss the point.[2]
  4. ^Well, mostly. On the Propater side there are a few unfortunately flat villains.
  5. ^The actual drama remains engaging and the odd cybernetic limb still shows up, but there's nothing comparable to the focus of high tech combat courtesy of NOMAD.
  6. ^The official English publication never concluded, but let's not pretend we live under a rock.
  7. ^The Manga's overall attitude towards sex work is somewhat hard to gauge. While there's an obviously liberal approach to sexuality in general,[3] it also features harrowing portrayals of addiction and abuse associated with prostitution.
  8. ^I feel that this is an aspect of long running manga that isn't talked about often enough. For example one of the joys of reading Berserk is the progress of the art style over time.
  9. ^That it gets better towards the end lessens but doesn't entirely solve the problem… mostly because the majority of important characters were introduced earlier.
  10. ^Fittingly, Endo's next manga, All-Rounder Meguru, is a sports drama about the Japanese amateur MMA scene. It's far more low-key than Eden, but anyone looking for a martial arts manga that's both exciting and grounded in reality should check it out.[4]
  11. ^I am not going to make any claims about actual realism here because I'm not about to seek out footage or photos of real gore for comparison… but honestly I would not be surprised if there was some disturbing accuracy to Eden's artwork.
  1. ^What's merely average about Eden, you ask? The comic relief. Eden's sudden digressions into weird raunchy humor are honestly more annoying than refreshing.
  2. ^There are even some who would claim that a lack of reliance on plot is one of the defining traits of “high brow” literature… but that's a discussion for another time.
  3. ^Lots of sex. Especially lots of blowjobs.
  4. ^Meguru has been officially translated and is even available digitally. Endo's latest Manga Muhai no Futari, seems to be a similar story about martial arts/boxing as well but none of his three most recent works are fully available in English as of yet, which is a shame.

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