Through The Looking Glass ( An unrated Cardcaptor Sakura Review )

More often than not, I’ve always found myself thinking deep. Creative juices flowing and pounding, as the rain did, outside my window. While I sat inside my cozy apartment with a hot cup of tea, and a few teasing fingers of Biscotti. Yet it’s hard not to swim into the sea of sexuality, even in watching Japanese animes because more often than not, the subliminal passion of forbidden lust and innocence lost, can be so artistically carved into the moist caverns of childlike animation.

Take Cardcaptor Sakura, for instance. I was just a little girl, barely 10 or 11, having first watched this coming-of-age anime. How pretentious the superficial is, when we are lead through a journey of innocence involving a young magical girl. Sakura Kinomoto, a girl of 9, who at this point in post-modernistic terms would be deemed a perfect Loli. Grade school student by day, and Magical Cardcaptor by night.

Yet ironically, as I’ve recently just turned 28, looking back into this show, I’ve found a rather ironic sense of sublimity that I had not found, as a young girl. Surprisingly, unbeknown to most, this brilliant anime, still breathes. As you grow, so does it, in parallel. But what you may not have realized, is that, as you become more aware of your own sexuality and the wet literal devices of writing, the more sexual Cardcaptor Sakura becomes.

So introduced is the insecurely sprouting, phallic yet dormant, masculinity of a boy in appearance, into the same school as Sakura Kinomoto. Enter Li Syaoran. A little boy born into a family lineage of Chinese sorcery. A boy who is still afraid of the fire. The flame of passionate erection, which he so desperately struggles to keep at bay.

But is love at first sight, truly that ideological? That the initial impression would always be sweet and pleasantly ecstatic? Perhaps not with the chance of meeting between every boy and a girl.

Like these two, we learn that love at first sight, can also be masked by arrogance and fragility. Much like sex, to be honest. There is no passionate, without the raunchy. Perhaps we should stop pretending to be that prude, If you are still reading these words of mine. But at least, pray you have enjoyed my company in sexual philosophy, tea & biscuits, so far.

* To be continued *

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