As I watched S2 I was struck strongly how both arcs have exactly the same point: Lawrence chooses Holo over wealth. This insistence on proving the point , however, confuses me. During S1 I never had the impression that Lawrence was a hard-headed merchant who only cared for money. Sure he pesters Holo about her debt, but that is just banter with a small sliver of truth. By the end of the first season it was abundantly clear that they had formed a substantial bond with each other. If I were asked at that point whether Lawrence would part with Holo for profit I would have emphatically answered no. Yet, for some strange reason the entirety of the second season is devoted to proving what we already know.
Anyway, moving beyond that general critique there are two primary reasons I like this arc more than the last one:
1) Holo is back. Like her or hate her, her uniqueness is one of the main claims to fame for the series. When she is absent for several episodes the engagement of the series can't help but suffer. Moreover, now that Holo is back she reciprocates more of Lawrence's kindness. Yes, there are the quips and games and endless meddling but we are given many more instances where she is openly fond of him. She is seen resting her head on his lap, content to let him stroke her head. When he kisses her hand she is actually taken aback for a moment. And when she really is scared, she reaches out to him instinctively. Again, I know this doesn't impress a lot of people but it is a fairly large advance compared to her previous attitudes.
The other aspect of Holo that I disliked during my original viewing but appreciated the second was her suggestion that they separate. I recall feeling quite disgusted at her suggestion that they separate. I felt like they had already been over this and that it was just drama in the making again. However, this time around it made a lot more sense. Previous suggestions of their separation originated with Lawrence, and were often born of practical concerns. This time it was from Holo, and this made all the difference.
Holo is old. For her all things are transient. We see this clearly illustrated when Lawrence comments that people change steadily over time, and her response is, "Yes, just like rivers." Lawrence can't even fathom what she means as he lacks the perspective of time that she does. On this journey she is happier than she has been in a long time, possibly happier than she has ever been in her life. Simply to have everything feel
new every day is a gift. But even all this excitement can't shield her from the realization that it will not last. Everything comes to an end. Frankly, when she says that she's accepted Lawrence will eventually die she's just lying to herself. She knows he will die and that there is nothing she can do about it. It reminded me of a
scene from Babylon 5 where an immortal being reflects on the burden of his own timelessness:
"To live on as we have is to leave behind joy, and love, and companionship, because we know it to be transitory, of the moment. We know it will turn to ash. Only those whose lives are brief can imagine that love is eternal. You should embrace that remarkable illusion. It may be the greatest gift your race has ever received."
As I watched the series this time it really sunk in just how burdened Holo was with the interminable future. Unfortunately, the scene itself was actually sloppy with some strange cuts that made me feel disoriented. In the end Holo's fear is not addressed and is actually not even meaningful for the rest of the series; it is swept under the rug as Lawrence tries to reconcile with her while not even understanding what she is upset about. I found this quite disappointing in light of how potent this insight into Holo was.
2) The side characters are superior. In the first arc Amarty wasn't bad...he just wasn't great. He did the job he needed to for the story and that was it. Lawrence's merchant friend Mark and his apprentice were similar. I would have loved to see more of Dian (bird woman) but that was not to be.
By comparison Eve is a far more dynamic character. She exhibited just enough self-contradictory aspects to make her feel real. Originally introduced as mysterious and aloof she is actually quite gregarious given the opportunity. Her later deceptions in no way negate this. If anything, they reinforce that coexisting with her cutthroat attitude is a desperate need to be liked and understood that never completely went away. Her life has taught her the hard way that she has to guard herself carefully, but it hasn't extinguished that original spark. Even when she betrays Lawrence it is fear, not avarice or hatred, that motivates her. That she leaves him with the deed to the inn further illustrates that she bears him no ill will. Ultimately she is a sad character who is on a path of self-destruction. Feeling the world close in on her she pursues her ambitions with a mad defiance, if only to prove that she has lived. It's why her last line to Lawrence, that she has hope, is such a sad lie. (That said...can't Lawrence win a single fight in this entire series? Just once?)
Rigoro the scribe and his assistant nun Merta didn't enjoy as much development as Eve, but the way they were presented it hinted at so much more. While Rigoro is clearly educated and wealthy, we do not know his background. His fortune seems to be greater than just what a town scribe would earn so it is likely inherited along with his mansion. The deep cellars with old books would attest to this as well. However, his family is conspicuously absent and in its place is Merta. She clearly can't be his wife, yet she is continually alone with him serving as companion, assistant, and secretary. During the credits we see that Merta goes to Rigoro and that he embraces and comforts her. Aside from her Rigoro avoids the company of others, despite his friendly nature. The final piece of the puzzle is the greenhouse, a dream that is simultaneously extravagant and simple. He not only takes great pride in it, but clearly finds peace within as well.
Taken together, these paint an interesting picture of somebody who has suffered great emotional privation and who now appreciates the simple and quiet beauty of his home and garden. It tantalizes us with the story of two people who have mutual respect and understanding, grown to affection, that cannot be pursued. But rather than view it as a tragic tale, it strikes me as very sweet that perhaps in this world these two people were lucky enough to find a measure of happiness in each other.