Warning: This video contains spoilers for the entirety of Hunter x Hunter’s Chimera
Ant arc.
If you prefer to read along, there’s a link to the corresponding post in my blog in the
description.
Without further ado, enjoy!
Narration is something easily taken for granted.
Usually it’s just there to provide background information, stuff we need to know in order
to understand what’s going on without turning the characters into exposition machines.
A narrator arms the audience with knowledge, and they synthesize and interpret it accordingly.
However, this is the bare minimum of what a narrator is capable of.
By manipulating when and how one uses narration, a sea of possibilities opens to the storyteller;
allowing them to elevate their work to a level not otherwise possible.
The Chimera Ant arc of Hunter x Hunter is often decried by many an anime viewer for
its extensive use of narration; with the narrator seemingly joining the cast along for the ride.
But, rather than take this as a fault, I’d argue that this narration style is part of
what elevates the Chimera Ant arc among the higher echelons of its brethren.
Hunter x Hunter utilizes its narrator as a playwright employs prose, enveloping the Chimera
Ant arc in an air of dramatic tension, and epicness in every sense of the word; as well
as improving understandability in both its themes and plot-lines.
Throughout the beginning of the CA arc, the narrator is pretty typical.
The majority of his input is through summary, exposition, and knowledge that the average
person living in the HxH universe would know, and thus things that would be unnatural for
the characters to mention.
His usage is also usually relegated to the beginnings and ends of episodes, interjecting
only every once-in-a-while otherwise.
His main job is to establish the setting and summarize past events so that we’re able
to get our bearings as the arc establishes itself.
For everything else, the characters interact among themselves, leaking important information
along the way.
For example, Kite is the one to reveal the seemingly unassuming antagonist for which
the arc is named; and his reaction clues the viewer in on what to expect more elegantly
sans narrator.
The audience is given the privilege of being in the same position as Gon and Killua.
Whisked away with the help of Accompany, they find themselves in a new unfamiliar situation,
with a foe they know little to nothing about.
By easing up on the narration, the audience is given time to formulate their own thoughts
and theories about events to come.
And as the arc continues and the audience is privy to just how vicious of an enemy the
Chimera ants are, dramatic tension builds because we know just what Gon and friends
are in for.
But, over time, the narrator helps himself to more and more liberties.
Expanding from simple exposition, he chimes in to punctuate key points, and expand on
others.
Eventually he begins to reveal information beyond the scope of common knowledge.
One of the early turning points of narration is the introduction of Gyro’s backstory.
From the teaser at the end of the previous episode, one might expect this shadowy ruler
to be shrouded in mystery; some mental bubblegum for the viewer to chew on throughout the arc.
Imagine the surprise when the first half of the next episode is devoted to explicitly
describing how this individual came to be (Evil x And x Terrible).
Togashi deliberately spells it out for the viewer, because in this instance he wants
to remove all speculation.
He sacrifices the air of mystery, but in turn is able to set the tone for the entire arc.
Before the flashback, the audience's view of Gyro could be any number of things, from
cocky goofy druglord to calculating mob boss, but this image crystallizes into something
concrete post-flashback.
Now we understand Gyro as a former abused child who feels at odds with the universe,
going as far as declaring his inhumanity.
We also learn the principle of which he based the founding of an entire country upon; which
proposes an interesting question that the narrator leaves with us at the end of the
episode.
This usage of the narrator to steer the audience “on course” returns later in the arc,
and is helpful as a way to drive points home.
By presenting Gyro in this way, the viewer is able to focus on what is happening rather
than what-could-be baseless speculation, and the themes of humanity vs. inhumanity are
made more apparent.
Dramatic tension continues to climb as well, when the audience considers the implications
of the narrator’s question.
Speaking of questions, this also marks the beginning of the narrator almost losing his
objectivity; broaching speculative questions rather than just presenting clear facts.
The narrator also maintains a timeline for the benefit of the viewer.
He notifies the audience the timing of crucial events, such as the hatching of the Royal
Guard, and the days leading up to the selection.
It seems like a minor thing at first, but during later events this is extremely important;
as more pieces and players get added, and more things happen simultaneously.
At the same time, the narrator plays a diminished role after the Gyro reveal, allowing dramatic
scenes to speak for themselves.
One of the criticisms viewers have with the HxH narrator is redundancy, but he knows when
to back-off to increase the emotional impact of a scene.
In some episodes of the Knuckle and Shoot training section he isn’t anywhere to be
found at all; with brief recaps serving as summary, and characters free to make their
own proclamations to the camera.
The narrator returns in full force when Killua ends up having to deal with the Ortho siblings
(Ikalgo x And x Lightning).
Escaping from the beginning and ends of episodes, the narration picks up half-way after the
male sibling makes a curious remark.
Here the narrator fully explains just what the Ortho siblings’ power entails, for a
reason similar to the Gyro flashback.
Togashi wants to drive home Killua’s helplessness as well as the Ortho siblings’ risk.
By doing so, Killua’s eventual victory over them is that much sweeter, because we know
just how powerful of an ability he’s facing, and just how few limitations it has.
However, this descriptive narration is delayed in order to fully place the audience in Killua’s
panicked mindset.
We get the best of both worlds, the confusion and speculation that comes with being blindsided
by such an ability, and the realization of the stakes when it becomes fully explained.
We also get an explanation of how Killua was able to overcome their ability, clearly laying
out his clever use of Nen.
Togashi is once again making sure things are absolutely certain in the minds of the viewer,
using narration as a tool to do so.
Nen is a remarkably versatile power-system that manages to be simple and extremely complex
at the same time.
It is due to this that Togashi takes it upon himself to delineate the ins-and-outs of each
character’s ability.
From the Ortho siblings on, he describes the abilities of Morel, Knov, Cheetu, Leol, and
so on.
Having everything be clear in the mind of the viewer is incredibly important when it
comes to something like Nen, because even though it seemingly follows carefully laid
out rules and restrictions, its variety branches forth more than lightning.
What we the viewer get out of this is increased appreciation for both Nen and the creativity
of the characters who use it in staggeringly inventive ways.
Hunter x Hunter is obsessed with supplying its audience with knowledge, for them to do
with it what they will.
A lot of this knowledge is brought to us by the narrator.
In fact, the narrator seems to become a character of his own within the CA arc, presenting information
in a markedly biased manner as well as abusing his omniscience.
The introduction of Komugi for instance, is absolutely steeped in foreshadowing (Check
x And x Mate).
In combination with his constant explanation of things, this reflects his usage as a medium
for literary devices.
Drama and dramatic irony are created when the audience knows things that the characters
do not, and ramps up tension and emotional impact.
When Knov infiltrates the palace in preparation for the invasion, we find ourselves on the
edge of our seats because Knov has no idea that this is his absolute best chance to succeed.
But, it is not until the arc’s pivotal turning point that the narration crescendos into a
resounding forte: the palace invasion.
Before we delve into the meatiness that is the palace invasion, let’s review what the
narrator’s done so far: He’s provided exposition and setting, as well as common
background knowledge.
He’s articulated the backstory of a character, Gyro’s ideals and motivations.
He’s wholly explained several Nen abilities.
He’s managed the timeline of crucial events.
And, he’s become less objective as time goes on, punctuating key (or humorous) moments
with his own interjections as well as blatantly foreshadowing future events.
All of the actions of the narrator thus far become even more pronounced after the palace
invasion, and he becomes a driving force for the narrative.
This is necessary due to the nature of the invasion, but in addition to that, this narrative
flair brings a far greater emotional payoff to events in the arc with the narrator’s
eloquence and timing.
The palace invasion kicks off in episode 111 (Charge × And × Invade), and by episode
117 (Insult x And x Payback) the narrator informs us that only a whopping 3 in-universe
minutes have passed.
At first this fact seems absurd considering the viewer has watched more than 2 hours of
content, but at the heart of this is the reason for the necessity of the narrator.
From the instant the invasion starts to where we find ourselves in episode 117, countless
important events and storylines have commenced and branched seemingly exponentially.
In addition to this, the very mention of the time passing tints the events of the last
6 episodes in an epic light, reframing the happenings in a way where the audience is
able to feel the massive scale and grandness of what’s going on.
A (incomplete) list of characters we follow the thoughts and actions of from episodes
111 to 117, in no particular order, includes: Gon, Killua, Knuckle, Shoot, Morel, Ikalgo,
Welfin, Brovada, Pouf, Pitou, Youpi, Meleoron, Zeno, Netero, Meruem...
And so on, and so on.
Throughout the arc, multiple storylines develop simultaneously and begin to intertwine with
one another, such as when Morel reunites with Knuckle, and when Killua runs into Palm.
In order to adequately ground the viewer and prevent confusion, the narrator acts as a
sort of guide, slowing down time and jumping back and forth between plot-lines to provide
a mental map as to what is happening and at what times.
While controlling time, the narrator seemingly also takes over control of the camera.
He’ll be explaining something and suddenly mention new developments as they come into
frame or the camera will cut to them as they happen.
In fact, the narrator almost becomes similar to a director, managing shots and withholding
information out of frame until they become relevant.
What this all comes back to is knowledge.
Hunter x Hunter’s narrator is the king of context.
And through this context our enjoyment of the series is improved.
Context is able to give more emotional weight to events and the motivations behind our favorite
characters.
In the episode where the palace invasion starts, the narrator brings to our attention that
the only reason Pitou notices Netero and Zeno is pure instinct and chance (Charge x And
x Invade).
In episode 112, we’re given more insight into Shoot’s character, and a little later,
his and Knuckle’s relationship; making Knuckle’s determination to “save face” for him and
his friend hit all the more harder (Monster x And x Monster).
In episode 121, the narrator informs us with his omniscience that the most optimal solution
for Youpi to take would have been to kill Morel, Knuckle, and Meleoron on the spot (Defeat
x And x Dignity).
Consequently, we understand the gravity of Youpi’s newfound respect more thoroughly.
Before that, Morel makes a hasty decision to cease Smoky Jail, but we learn that by
doing so he is able to arrive just in time to support Knuckle, and that he does this
purely subconsciously out of experience (Fake x And x Real).
I can only describe the feeling that these moments of context bring...as epic.
Through all of the knowledge we’re so graciously given we are able to appreciate just how grand
and impactful everything happening is.
And not only that, but this once again accomplishes something Togashi sought from the beginning,
to drive points home.
We’re able to watch Youpi as a character transform and sift through the complex emotions
roiling under the surface.
And as a consequence, we sort-of understand when Knuckle says he can no longer see Youpi
as an enemy...because he, an ant, showed them humanity.
The narrator is used to change our perspectives and expectations and deliver thematic payloads.
For example, at the end of the arc he provides us with information regarding the true Diego’s
whereabouts, and how he had left East Gorteau to an imposter.
On the surface there’s really no reason to tell us this, other than interesting minutiae
acting as filler.
But, dig a little deeper, and this seemingly small tidbit of information serves a greater
thematic purpose.
Diego, like Laertes in Shakespeare's Hamlet, acts as a foil to Meruem.
Because, while Meruem starts out life brash and eager to assert his power, he eventually
recognizes something that Diego knew from the beginning; that true power comes with
living a life that you choose for yourself.
Part of the reason why the Chimera Ant arc has this air of epicness is due to its narrative
style.
It shares similarities to the epic poems of old, the Beowulfs and Odysseys we’ve all
read in English class.
I mentioned above that Hunter x Hunter’s narrator acts as a medium for literary devices,
almost as if his words were actually text read aloud.
In episode 119 he sets up an obvious Chekhov's Gun that is fired to great effect a bit later,
and he utilizes poignant metaphors and sets up more foreshadowing throughout the arc (Strong
x Or x Weak).
Towards the end, he frames himself as a representative of humanity as a whole, proclaiming the memorable
words: “...we’re far worse.”
The idea that one should “show, not tell” seems like an obvious rule of writing today,
but in the past this guideline was actually taken as a sign of poor writing.
Friedrich Spielhagen, German novelist, argued that “[only] a detailed description of characters,
events, and actions...is in accordance with the ‘laws of the epic’ (‘epische Gesetze’),
and hence must be rated superior…”
(Spielhagen 1883).
Instead of “show, don't tell,” you could say that Hunter x Hunter embraces a kindergartener’s
ideology...show and tell.
There are a number of scenes that demonstrate the usefulness and benefit of the narrator:
Netero’s entrance and backstory, the description of Youpi’s inner turmoil, and of course
the spectacular reveal of the Poor Man’s Rose.
But, the episode that I feel most encapsulates how well the narrator is used is when Killua
confronts Palm (Breakdown x And x Awakening).
In the beginning the narrator brings our attention to Palm, and then Killua is able to think
out what his reaction to her should be.
After his suspicion comes across to the audience, and Palm goes crazy, the narrator explains
her ability, allowing us to understand Killua’s own worry about the situation.
Killua then shifts his focus from attacking to trying to have a discussion with Palm,
to which the narrator informs us of his true intentions.
However, it is due to this that makes Killua’s eventual breakdown all the more powerful;
because we know that he was just trying to buy time but couldn’t keep his doubts and
insecurities about Gon from escaping.
From here Palm pauses a moment before defying Pouf; prompting the narrator to explain the
events that were hidden to us previously, about exactly what happened to Palm all those
episodes ago.
And it is due to this that we get context about how Palm is able to turncoat easier
than the other ants (and her courageous actions), as well as the experimentation that Pitou
and Pouf were performing.
This scene really shows how the narrator strikes a balance between “show” and “tell”,
providing context when it would enhance the episode, and backing off to allow emotion
to take the spotlight.
Which is what the narrator does consistently throughout Hunter x Hunter.
Some would say that a narrator’s job is to be invisible.
Hunter x Hunter says otherwise.
But of course, this is just what I think.
What did you think about the narrator?
Unnecessary?
Epic?
Ham-fisted?
Leave your thoughts in the comment section below, and be sure to subscribe and like the
video for more content.
And of course if anything I said was wrong, I’m sorry.
I must’ve stuttered.