Fatherhood
“She isn’t my real daughter. She was an orphan who lost her family in the war. I only knew how to deal with iron, but she made me into a pretty decent human being.”
Godo, Berserk 2016, Episode 4
Fatherhood is a theme that I find very few people talking about when it comes to Berserk. For a child, a father is typically the source of a child’s sense of security and identity. The absence of a father-figure has been known to cause long-term effects on a child’s sense of worth, guilt, their emotional stability and their sense of identity. Moreover father-less children are more likely to be victimized and manipulated, have trouble in relationships and are known to create a domineering persona to mask their inner turmoil. Virtually all of these traits are prevalent in Guts and in the world of Berserk in general.
With no mother figure in his life and arguably one of the worst father-figures in literature, Guts is a product of, amongst other things, terrible parenting. Gambino was a bullying, cruel, abusive, withholding, guilt-tripping father to him, damning the poor child to forever seek and need his approval. Of the numerous horrendous things that have happened to Guts, Gambino remained his greatest oppressor until the Eclipse as Guts was still very much under his thumb. Through all that has happened to him, Guts’ remorse over killing Gambino is monumental.
Throughout the Golden Age, in his most vulnerable moments—his first defeat to Griffith, murdering Julius and Adonis, and having sex with Casca—Guts was rendered helpless by his guilt over Gambino’s death. To get an idea of the kind of damage Gambino has done to him, we should notice how Guts views killing Gambino as one of his most heinous acts. For a man whose body count is in the thousands, that Guts’ greatest remorse is killing a man in self-defense as a child provides a glimpse into his inner turmoil and Gambino’s long reach.
Julius and Adonis parallel Gambino and Guts’ relationship: a crusty, battle-hardened man with his own demons utterly destroying the self-worth and innocence of an impressionable boy. Both Julius and Gambino do hint at a soupcon of humanity but the damage they have done is everlasting. Charlotte’s father, though seemingly kind, is in fact an incestuous ephebophile who molests his own daughter. Jill also suffers from an abusive, shaming father.
In this world of terrible fathers, there is only one good father-figure: Guts (Godo is implied to be a good father to Erica but we hardly see the two together which is why I’m not including him. The Count Apostle too surprises us by being a gentle father but given the fact that he locked Theresia in a room, murdered her mother and is generally a heartless sadist isn’t winning him any father of the year awards).
Children need a father who is a constant guide, who is available, protective and supportive. While only in his early 20s, Guts’ hardships and sacrifices make him more akin to a man in his 40s, worldly and wise beyond his years, qualifying him as a splendid father-figure to his entourage of children and teenagers. Miura conveys this idea by having Guts always walk behind his New Party, a testament to his nuanced and subtle approach to visual storytelling. Although the de facto leader of the group, Guts is almost always depicted as either walking behind them, or amongst them, like an ever-present, ever-vigilant father protecting his flock.
Another aspect of the New Party that sheds light on Guts being a splendid father-figure to his comrades is if we compare them to Griffith presiding over the Band of Falcons. In the original Band of Falcons, all members had their respective flaws that held them back from chasing their own dreams. Corkus was a once a leader of thieves who joined Griffith as a sure-fire way towards wealth and status. Pippin was an uncharismatic brute of a man. Judeau was a jack-of-all-trades who excelled at no particular task and decided to follow a man who did. Casca was a woman who had no other goal in life but to define herself through her association with Griffith. Guts, when it was all said and done, was just a man who wanted to fight and relied on Griffith to provide a reason. On top of that, he had been defeated by Griffith in combat and been forced to join against his own will. While they were all proud members of the Falcons, their deep-seated issues remained unresolved and left them dependant on Griffith. That is, their individuality and personal growth was compromised in order to continue being “a feather in Griffith’s wing.”
In the New Party, first and foremost, not only does everyone join out of their own volition but they stay because they choose to. Where Griffith employed charisma, force and material prospects to enlist members in his quest for a kingdom, Guts offers little pomp and circumstance. He makes no promises, demands no favors and inspires through his actions alone. He also makes no airs about being their leader, deferring many of the important decisions to Schierke and Roderick. In fact, Guts is very careful about not stepping on anyone’s toes, showcasing an ego kept in-check and refusing to challenge anyone’s status—unlike Griffith whose ego grew exponentially throughout the Golden Age to the point where Guts deciding to leave the Falcons to live on his own terms was considered a personal affront. Compare Griffith’s reaction to Guts leaving to Guts reaction when he found out Farnese had (briefly) left the group. If anything, the Black Swordsman is highly mindful of everyone’s status in his group, encouraging them all to find their own role in the group. Unlike Griffith who had smothered his followers’ individuality, Guts has indirectly or directly provided an environment where they can tackle their own short-comings.
To that end, Guts has helped everyone regain something they had lost. Farnese, for instance, was a cruel, sadistic religious zealot who, once her faith shattered, had little direction. She had been inspired by Guts to not only shed her religious zeal but to reinvent herself as a more compassionate person. In the New Party, she gains a life-changing task in not only caring for Casca but learning to become a witch, people the old Farnese would have burnt at the stake in a heartbeat. Serpico, too, has found what he was looking for in seeing Farnese happy and surrounded by people who care for her. Though he has his reservations regarding Farnese’s feelings for Guts, even he has marvelled at how much she has changed as a person. Isidore was an orphan, a petty thief whose goal is to become a powerful knight. He lacked a family, a home and a mentor and found all three in Guts and the New Party. Schierke not only lost her mother-figure but also the protective cocoon of her former life as a witch-apprentice in a secluded forest. She had little exposure to the outside world and its many complexities, leaving her confused and conflicted about her place in the New Party. Guts gently guides her into her new life, advises her on how to handle her emotions and is fiercely protective of her—essentially becoming a surrogate parent to her since Flora’s passing. As such, the main difference between the Band of Hawks and the New Party is that Guts seems to have ensured that it is nothing like a mercenary army but a family of individuals.
To further explore the theme of fatherhood, let’s examine Guts’ relationship with Isidore. While Gambino was mercurial, harsh and cruel, Guts’ training of Isidore is strict but also supportive, imparting practical advice and helpful pointers. Above all, he bolsters Isidore’s confidence and self-worth by acknowledging him as a trusted member of the party. During his fight with the Goat apostle and later in the troll’s nest, Guts was very vocal about his faith in Isidore’s ability, entrusting him with protecting Casca and Farnese. The impact this had on Isidore’s confidence was obvious.
Moreover, after slaying the Goat apostle Guts rendezvous with Isidore only to find out that Casca had been captured by Farnese’ soldiers. The boy explains to Guts what had happened off-camera and apologizes. In a fit of rage and frustration, Guts grabs the boy by the collar but relents immediately when he notices him tearing up. It is a telling a moment of Guts’ past as a son and his future as a father. Good parenting is often more about omitting the horrible aspects of our own childhood so that history may not repeat itself. Most of all, it is about putting our children’s emotional and physical wellbeing before anything else. Had this been Gambino, Isidore would have been berated and beaten mercilessly. Guts, however, knew the boy was innocent—the same way he himself was innocent when being blamed for Shisu and Gambino’s misfortune—and restrained himself. In doing so, he refrained himself from repeating history by putting the boy’s feelings before his own exasperation at losing Casca yet again.
Another great example of being a positive father-figure to Isidore is how Guts advises him to use his size to his advantage and carry a smaller sword i.e. create his own fighting style. This is important because Gambino taunted Guts into using a sword bigger than him, which in turn becomes symbolic of Guts’ burdens in life and the “adulthood” that is forced onto him. For Gambino, Guts’ stature was a disadvantage, a handicap. In being forced to use a bigger sword, it in turn made Guts view his own childhood as a liability and something to quickly overcome.
With Isidore, Guts not only encourages the boy to use his size as an advantage but makes sure childhood isn’t viewed as a handicap by Isidore. Most importantly, in encouraging Isidore to use a smaller sword, Guts is helping the boy retain a modicum of childhood. A good father, after all, doesn’t want his child to carry more burdens than he or she needs to whilst encouraging him to live his or her own life. A subdued but poignant reminder of this is when Isidore tries to steal the Dragon Slayer. Guts picks up the enormous blade, places it over his shoulder—reminiscent of Gambino’s mannerisms when he told Guts that he doesn’t have kiddy sword—and says, “this isn’t a toy for kids.” When the boy insists that he wants to follow in his footsteps Guts’ response is peculiar: he doesn’t discourage the boy or chide him but asks, simply, if he has every spilled blood. Isidore’s rebuttal is simply that this is his choice, which makes Guts smile and agree.
Guts and Schierke’s dynamic further explores the themes of fatherhood, this time from the perspective of father-daughter. Schierke grew up in a world devoid of male figures. The ones who were there were either irrelevant or negative. Guts and his party would mark the first time Schierke deals with the male world, running the gamut with an annoying brat in Isidore, a gentleman in Serpico and a battle-hardened alpha-male in Guts. Whilst initially uncomfortable around Guts, Schierke finds him alluring and eventually is won over by his constant availability, his gentleness, worldliness and above all that he’s a good man—things all daughters should get from their fathers. In that sense, her “crush” on Guts is simply an aspect of their father-daughter dynamic. Aside from fatherhood, both Guts and Schierke reflect an old-soul feeling: both are far older than their years and carry a certain gravity to them, upholding more responsibility without sharing their burdens with anyone. The moment where Schierke breaks down after Flora’s death was a poignant scene because they’re both guilty of bottling up their feelings.
We must also realize that at this point, Guts is a father to Casca. In her regressed state Casca is a helpless infant whose safety relies entirely upon Guts, and later, the New Party. When first protecting her following the Tower of Conviction arc, we see Guts truly struggle for the first time. He buckles under the pressures and responsibility placed on his shoulders. This too is a testament to fatherhood where many a great men feel suffocated and helpless by the sheer scale of the task because it isn’t simply about getting through a day but about creating a secure future. In his recourse to the New Party, we see a task that even a warrior like Guts couldn’t shoulder alone.
The only time Guts harkens to his own father, is when confronting the Demon Fetus, responding violently every time it appears. Though originally Casca and Guts’ unborn child, Griffith’s rape of Casca graphed on a demonic nature to it, causing it to be born prematurely and grotesquely deformed. While the creature is perhaps the biggest victim of the Eclipse, in Guts’ mind it is the living embodiment of how Griffith destroyed everything sacred to Guts and Casca. Another glaring aspect of the Demon Fetus is that its right eye is also closed due to its deformity (which in itself is similar to how Shisu looked when she succumbed to the plague). It is here that Guts is very much like his father. Worth noticing also is the fact that Guts’ reaction to the Demon Fetus assuages over the course of the series (in turn a reflection to Guts slowly reclaiming his humanity following the Eclipse). He even expresses parental concern over the Demon Fetus following the events of the Tower of Conviction arc, wondering if it is was out there on its own. It was a stark contrast to his earlier reaction to the creature. What’s more, this change of heart coincides with the arrival of the Moon Child.
While the nature of the Moon Child remains the biggest mystery in Berserk, one thing is indubitable: he is Casca and Guts’ son. What I find fascinating is that Guts’ clearly holds paternal feelings towards the boy but remains hesitant. The Moon Child himself appears uncertain in front of Guts, clearly more at ease with Casca than his father. There are plenty of shots of the two staring at each other curiously until the boy turns back to Casca in hurry. Is it perhaps due to how, for the first few years of his life (as the Demon Fetus), Guts was so hostile to him? I’m reminded of how lion cubs spend the first few weeks with their mothers before being carefully introduced to the male lion, who both mesmerizes and terrifies them. Ultimately though, the Moon Child is Guts’ salvation from himself, a beacon to him even in the midst of the churning rage and violence of the Berserker armor. On more than one occasion, the Moon Child brought Guts back from the brink of completely losing himself to the Berserker armor and during Guts’ battle with the sea god he guided his father towards the surface.
In this the theme of fatherhood comes full circle: our children are a way for us to save ourselves from our greatest demons. When all the pollution of the world, when all its mayhem and clamor traps us in its whorls, it is our children and our love for them that can help us find our way out. They help us prioritize and re-examine our lives, to understand what is truly important in life.
~Sado22
