Why Banana Fish’s ending was not only necessary, but happy

As a character, Ash is deeply traumatized—to say that is an understatement. This is not to say that some cannot recover from trauma, but in Ash’s case I think this would be unrealistic. Primarily, Ash’s lifestyle does not allow him to let his guard down—as we’ve seen, this is a death sentence. In my opinion, letting one’s guard down and fully examining the issue is a huge step towards healing. For a recovery plot to be realized, one of two things would necessary: 1). A season two/spin off show with an entirely separate direction than the original, or, 2). An open-ended final episode. From a writing standpoint, both of these options are flimsy. Switching directions in season two would be jarring to the viewer. It may even feel unnecessary, as, if they wanted to watch an entirely different show, then they would. Similarly, while in some corner of our minds we want Ash and Eiji to be happy together, it would be fairly unsatisfying to end the series simply showing Ash getting on a plane. This vague implication of a happier life would feel like a cop-out from the writers, but giving a season two that actually provides answers would stray too much from the original scope of the show. For this reason, neither of these is a viable ending in the long-run.

In contrast, the current ending with Ash’s death fulfills all of the promises to the viewer that the show made at the beginning. In episode one, the main plot points that are introduced are 1). The mystery of Banana Fish, 2). The question of how Eiji will impact Ash’s life, and 3). Ash’s history of abuse, fueling his plan for revenge. Low and behold, all of the points are addressed by the end. Not only this, but a new element is added in the final episode: the question of happiness.

Philosophers who are concerned with “the good life” often characterize it as a search for happiness. Indeed, happiness is seen as the ultimate goal of life. If we agree with this, then it is clear that the writers of Banana Fish have actually given Ash the gift of the good life. While in life, it is unlikely that Ash would find happiness—due to logistical problems of going to Japan, not to mention his traumatic past—in his moment of death we can be assured that Ash has found peace. We are clued into this because of the librarian’s remark that Ash must be having “a nice dream” upon seeing the smile on his face. As he lays in the library, Ash is truly peaceful, probably for the first time in the show.

Ash’s peace is not just a gift from the writers, however—it is something he has earned himself. If we consider the parallel between Ash and Yut-Lung, it is repeatedly stated that their most major difference is that Ash has the ability to give love to others (thanks to Eiji), whereas Yut-Lung lacks this ability. This also explains the differences in their endings in the show. Ash is put to rest, but Yut-Lung is told he must clean up China Town—he still has things to learn and do before his story will end. Ash, however, has learned this crucial skill throughout the series, and is rewarded for his hard work in this respect—he opened his heart.

Ultimately, the message of the show is that the most virtuous are able to love others. Despite the hundreds of crimes Ash has committed, the show still hints that he will be absolved of blame in the afterlife. As Ash lays in the library dying, the visual symbolism is clear; a beam of sunlight shines down on his lifeless body, as though he has been accepted to, if not heaven, a state of everlasting warmth. Furthermore, the show makes it clear that his new ability to love is the thing that has allowed Ash this redemption, not some other quality. This message is sent by the fact that Ash died laying on Eiji’s letter, which professes not only Eiji’s love, but that it is mutual. Ash does not seem to have hidden his new ability, but given his love freely to Eiji. Eiji must have felt this love, as his letter is assured that their souls belong together. In this way, the series accomplishes the same assurance that Ash and Eiji will meet again as an alternate ending where Ash goes to Japan would have. However, it avoids the unsatisfying, open-ended feel of such an alteration (as we discussed earlier).

While we may be tempted to call this ending pessimistic, in reality it is in support of optimism. Though it is easy to read this finale as a message that all our efforts are useless—even after taking down Dino and Banana Fish, Ash still didn’t get to live—this is not the case. In fact, Ash gained all of the rewards he expected in defeating Dino, but then gained the additional, unexpected reward of true happiness. This is an optimistic outlook, because it shows that the universe brings good things to those who do good for others. Optimism states that this world must be the best possible world, or else God could not be benevolent. With its final nod to religion with Ash’s death in a sunbeam, and with its message that giving love to others will bring rewards, this final episode certainly sends a message of optimism.

Despite all of this, a final concession must be given to the other side: isn’t it better to be alive and unhappy than dead and happy? At least, then, you have the chance of becoming happy at some point in the future. The sad truth is that, in order to agree with all of my previous points, the answer has to be no. Ash is better off dead. While I concede that readers may disagree with this, I still tend to believe that Ash is better off dead and happy. We have a promise of eternal redemption, after all. If we believe the final episode, Ash will get to float away on that sunbeam in the library, and, if we believe Eiji, their souls will meet again in a better place. Even if this is not true, it is what Ash believes in his final moments—and this makes his death worth it, in exchange for a promise of a better life.