My Rating System: 10. I don't hand out these scores often, but when I do it's because it means something personal to me. It's special. It's not an anime you watch, it's a journey you experience. Maybe others would disagree but for me, it truly is something beautiful. 9. Absolutely stellar direction with well defined and developed characters. Has some truly amazing moments that engulf you into its immersive reality. One of the best of its kind. 8. A great show that explores its ideas with confidence, having a consistent direction leading to a cohesive and well written narrative. Just missing that little push for it to be amazing. 7. A solid series with fundamentals of good writing. Has flaws like any show, but isn't enough to derail what is has going for it. What most generic series should aim to be at. 6. Decently good show that could have been much more than what it was. Likeable characters and interesting ideas could of been fleshed out more, but alas that's all it ever was... What could have been. 5. An average anime, that you could find airing in the sea of mediocrity. Generic anime tropes that do nothing new. A predictable story that any amateur author could write. 4. Barely watchable as decent show. Most likely had potential, but executed in a lacklustre fashion. Bad, but not nearly the worst I've seen. 3. Poorly written characters and a convoluted story that lacks any sense of direction. 2. I cannot even begin to fathom how anyone would think this is "well written" in any sense. I won't understand how this could be liked in any way, shape or form. Man is this shit. 1. Terrible. Insultingly Bad. If cancer had an anime form, well you found it, congrats.
It should be noted that the way I rate is by comparing Anime in the same/similar genre together. 10 meaning that for the genre(s) it contains, it's the best of its kind. I'm not saying it's impossible to compare a slice of life to a thriller, just extremely difficult to do so. A score of 0 is not reasonable, since if it exists, it has to get points for at least that.
What makes Violet Evergarden so special to me — what makes it truly unforgettable — is the love story between Gilbert and Violet. It’s not your typical romance. It’s not built on passion or grand gestures. It’s Platonic in its purity, yet undeniably romantic in its quiet intensity.
Their bond is what moved me the most.
I resonate with Violet — her innocence, her longing, her loyalty. But you also feel Gilbert. You feel his guilt, his conflict, his quiet and steady heart burdened by a love that’s both too much and never enough. He loves her — probably more than anyone else ever could — but instead of embracing it, he chooses to walk away. Not because he doesn’t care. Because he cares too much.
Gilbert deeply loves Violet, but he never tries to control her. He’s afraid of the imbalance in their relationship — afraid that her love stems from dependency, not understanding. That fear, combined with the weight of societal expectations and his own guilt, leads him to step away. Not out of rejection, but out of moral strength. And that’s what makes it both beautiful and tragic.
He sees her as someone too young, emotionally and mentally — a blank slate shaped by war. He fears her feelings were born from trauma, not true emotional maturity. To accept her love would feel, to him, like taking advantage of her innocence. Society would say:
“She’s too naive. He’s the adult. It’s wrong. He should know better.”
So he tells himself:
“Even if I love her back… I must protect her. Even from me.”
And that’s the heartbreaking part.
He doesn’t reject her — he sacrifices his own happiness, choosing to protect her from what he sees as his own shadow.
Just watching Gilbert is painful. You can feel what he feels. The terrible burden of being loved so deeply by someone who doesn’t yet fully understand the world — and choosing pain over joy to shield them.
I deeply respect Gilbert for this. He is honorable and selfless in a way that feels almost unreachable. I wish I could be like him — but I don’t think I could bear that kind of pain. If I were in his place, I would have accepted Violet’s love. Yes, even knowing how innocent and dependent she is. But I’d help her grow. I’d be honest with her, guide her, and let her choose for herself when she’s older — whether to stay, or move on.
Gilbert doesn’t do this because he’s weak — but because he’s strong in a different, more tragic way. He becomes the embodiment of selflessness.
He sacrifices his own happiness. He does what’s “right,” even if it breaks both of their hearts. He protects her, even when it means losing her.
Some people interpret their bond as father-daughter — that Gilbert was a guardian, not a romantic figure. That he was merely there to guide Violet, help her grow, and then disappear so she could become her own person. And sure, that interpretation exists. It focuses on:The age and power gap, Violet’s emotional immaturity, and Gilbert’s guilt as the reason he walks away.
But the truth is that’s not the whole story. The anime and the light novels make it very clear — this is not just a parental bond. Violet’s love is romantic. She doesn’t vaguely say “I love you” — she yearns for him.
Gilbert’s silence is not because he sees her as a child — it’s because he doesn’t believe he deserves her love. His absence isn’t an act of guardianship. It’s a self-imposed exile — driven by shame, not detachment.
And as the Violet Evergarden Gaiden and the final movie show us, their feelings are mutual. Violet grows. She learns. She becomes someone who chooses to love — not because she was trained to, but because she wants to. She discovers that Gilbert is alive, living in isolation on a remote island, teaching children — ashamed of his past and convinced he’s unworthy of her.
But she finds him.
She confronts him. She cries. She tells him:
“I love you.”
“I’m not a tool. I’m Violet Evergarden.”
This moment — this declaration — is everything. It’s not a child’s plea. It’s a grown woman making a choice.
Gilbert, once again, tries to resist. He tells her she deserves more. That she should move on. But she refuses. She tells him she wants to build a life with him. That her love isn’t naive anymore — it’s mature, intentional, real.
And finally… he accepts it.
The movie ends with them walking hand-in-hand into the future, on that same island. It’s not a dramatic, showy reunion. It’s quiet. Gentle. Deeply emotional. Just like them.
Kana Akatsuki (the original author) and Kyoto Animation both leaned into this as a romantic conclusion. In interviews, the director even said:
“We chose not to show a kiss scene because Violet’s emotions are more than physical. The point was not to show romance, but to show connection.”
Their love is a connection that runs deeper than labels, deeper than age, and deeper than words. Violet is no longer a girl. She’s someone who understands who she is. And Gilbert finally lets go of the guilt, opening his heart and allowing himself to love — and be loved — without fear.
Their love story is not ordinary. It’s not explosive. It’s quiet. But it’s also one of the most emotionally powerful, morally complex, and deeply moving love stories I’ve ever seen in my life.
It really is that lifechanging insane narrative on multiple fronts
The anime is an ugly sham whose best contribution was the voice cast being integrated into future versions of the VN. On top of literally being unfinished and breaking the entire mystery narrative by fucking up a key background detail. Hoping you don’t have too much of what happened there in your head bc the VN is worth going into as fresh as possible
Heya if you don't mind me asking..............................................................................you didn't play the Umineko visual novel, did you?
All Comments (386) Comments
Their bond is what moved me the most.
I resonate with Violet — her innocence, her longing, her loyalty. But you also feel Gilbert. You feel his guilt, his conflict, his quiet and steady heart burdened by a love that’s both too much and never enough. He loves her — probably more than anyone else ever could — but instead of embracing it, he chooses to walk away. Not because he doesn’t care. Because he cares too much.
Gilbert deeply loves Violet, but he never tries to control her. He’s afraid of the imbalance in their relationship — afraid that her love stems from dependency, not understanding. That fear, combined with the weight of societal expectations and his own guilt, leads him to step away. Not out of rejection, but out of moral strength. And that’s what makes it both beautiful and tragic.
He sees her as someone too young, emotionally and mentally — a blank slate shaped by war. He fears her feelings were born from trauma, not true emotional maturity. To accept her love would feel, to him, like taking advantage of her innocence. Society would say:
“She’s too naive. He’s the adult. It’s wrong. He should know better.”
So he tells himself:
“Even if I love her back… I must protect her. Even from me.”
And that’s the heartbreaking part.
He doesn’t reject her — he sacrifices his own happiness, choosing to protect her from what he sees as his own shadow.
Just watching Gilbert is painful. You can feel what he feels. The terrible burden of being loved so deeply by someone who doesn’t yet fully understand the world — and choosing pain over joy to shield them.
I deeply respect Gilbert for this. He is honorable and selfless in a way that feels almost unreachable. I wish I could be like him — but I don’t think I could bear that kind of pain. If I were in his place, I would have accepted Violet’s love. Yes, even knowing how innocent and dependent she is. But I’d help her grow. I’d be honest with her, guide her, and let her choose for herself when she’s older — whether to stay, or move on.
Gilbert doesn’t do this because he’s weak — but because he’s strong in a different, more tragic way. He becomes the embodiment of selflessness.
He sacrifices his own happiness. He does what’s “right,” even if it breaks both of their hearts. He protects her, even when it means losing her.
Some people interpret their bond as father-daughter — that Gilbert was a guardian, not a romantic figure. That he was merely there to guide Violet, help her grow, and then disappear so she could become her own person. And sure, that interpretation exists. It focuses on:The age and power gap, Violet’s emotional immaturity, and Gilbert’s guilt as the reason he walks away.
But the truth is that’s not the whole story. The anime and the light novels make it very clear — this is not just a parental bond. Violet’s love is romantic. She doesn’t vaguely say “I love you” — she yearns for him.
Gilbert’s silence is not because he sees her as a child — it’s because he doesn’t believe he deserves her love. His absence isn’t an act of guardianship. It’s a self-imposed exile — driven by shame, not detachment.
And as the Violet Evergarden Gaiden and the final movie show us, their feelings are mutual. Violet grows. She learns. She becomes someone who chooses to love — not because she was trained to, but because she wants to. She discovers that Gilbert is alive, living in isolation on a remote island, teaching children — ashamed of his past and convinced he’s unworthy of her.
But she finds him.
She confronts him. She cries. She tells him:
“I love you.”
“I’m not a tool. I’m Violet Evergarden.”
This moment — this declaration — is everything. It’s not a child’s plea. It’s a grown woman making a choice.
Gilbert, once again, tries to resist. He tells her she deserves more. That she should move on. But she refuses. She tells him she wants to build a life with him. That her love isn’t naive anymore — it’s mature, intentional, real.
And finally… he accepts it.
The movie ends with them walking hand-in-hand into the future, on that same island. It’s not a dramatic, showy reunion. It’s quiet. Gentle. Deeply emotional. Just like them.
Kana Akatsuki (the original author) and Kyoto Animation both leaned into this as a romantic conclusion. In interviews, the director even said:
“We chose not to show a kiss scene because Violet’s emotions are more than physical. The point was not to show romance, but to show connection.”
Their love is a connection that runs deeper than labels, deeper than age, and deeper than words. Violet is no longer a girl. She’s someone who understands who she is. And Gilbert finally lets go of the guilt, opening his heart and allowing himself to love — and be loved — without fear.
Their love story is not ordinary. It’s not explosive. It’s quiet. But it’s also one of the most emotionally powerful, morally complex, and deeply moving love stories I’ve ever seen in my life.
All love ❣️
The anime is an ugly sham whose best contribution was the voice cast being integrated into future versions of the VN. On top of literally being unfinished and breaking the entire mystery narrative by fucking up a key background detail. Hoping you don’t have too much of what happened there in your head bc the VN is worth going into as fresh as possible
Just watched the Oshi no Ko video and I just wanted to say great video.