Revisiting the Fascist Subtext of Attack on Titan : Some

Notes on a Modern Reactionary Anime

Tim Brinkhof

Film & History: An Interdisciplinary Journal, Volume 51, Number 2, Winter

2021, pp. 21-29 (Article)

Published by Center for the Study of Film and History

DOI: https://doi.org/10.1353/flm.2021.0005

For additional information about this article

https://muse.jhu.edu/article/842292

[ Access provided at 25 Jan 2022 03:11 GMT from University of Pittsburgh ]

 FILM & HISTORY 51.2 (WINTER 2021)
REVISITING THE FASCIST
SUBTEXT OF ATTACK ON TITAN:
SOME NOTES ON A MODERN
REACTIONARY ANIME1
Tim Brinkhof
New York University
Film Comment (Film at Lincoln Center)
A ttack on Titan is an ongoing Japanese
comic book series written and
illustrated by Hajime Isayama, who,
growing up in the countryside of Ōita
Prefecture, Japan,2 landed upon a simple but
disturbing truth: Because all living organisms
must feed on other living organisms to survive,
the world is an inherently cruel place. Life, by
definition, undermines ethical considerations.
Or so it might seem. Unlike so many of the
powerful but problematic ideas that cement
themselves into the minds of children, only to
be abandoned upon the arrival of adulthood,
this one stuck around for Isayama, at least as a
problem to be addressed. His manga tells the
story of a world in which people live under the
constant threat of being eaten alive by naked,
mindless, humanoid giants. The idea is not
original. Humans have, in science fiction, often
been flipped by circumstance into serving as
dinner for an alien species (even as we actually
are for any number of terrestrial species, from
bacteria to bears and lions, if we’re unlucky).
But Isayama has connected this evolutionary
trope to a sociological concern toward the
growing attraction in the world for
autocratic—often sociopathic—forms of
governance. Published in 2009, the manga,
alongside its anime adaptation, quickly grew
into a global pop-culture phenomenon. Part of
Isayama’s success can be attributed to the
1 The title is a reference to a 2019 Polygon article written
by Tom Speelman, “The Fascist Subtext of Attack on
Titan,” which more or less started the discussion this
essay joins.
21
grotesque allure of his (eventual) drawings;
another, to the surprisingly sophisticated
incorporation of Nazi ideology into his
narrative. But, in sum, the anime series poses
disturbing questions for a society that has
drawn its economic and political strength from
imperialism, especially, as with Japan, from a
totalitarian past—or, as with the United States,
from a periodic appetite for totalitarian
leadership.
Chapter one of Shingeki no Kyojin
debuted in Kodansha’s Bessatsu Shōnen
Magazine on September 9, 2009. Better known
in the west as Attack on Titan, it tells the story
of a world in which humanity resides behind a
series of three enormous walls that protect it
from giant, naked, man-eating humanoids
called Titans. They are, in essence, the principle
of Life, reversing the dominance of humans,
who are now food. One fateful day, when the
outermost wall is mysteriously breached and a
nearby town is overrun, a boy named Eren
Yeager watches his mother as she is eaten alive
by the invading behemoths. After joining a sea
of refugees past the middle wall, the
traumatized youth subsequently decides to join
the army in order to avenge his mother’s death
and retake their lost home. On the campaign,
however, he learns that one of the young men
he befriended during military training was
responsible for the breach. Determined to kill
his former brother-in-arms, Eren follows him
past the outermost wall, where he discovers
that the real world is nothing like he imagined.
Without any prior experience, Isayama
struggled to find a publisher willing to take on
his work. Editors everywhere were impressed
with his premise but disheartened by the—
admittedly—poor quality of his original
drawings. Fortunately for Kodansha, their
blind faith in the 23-year-old’s still-developing
talents paid off. By 2013, Attack on Titan was
selling almost sixteen million copies per year,
2 BBC News, “Manga Artist Hajime Isayama Reveals
His Inspiration.”
 FILM & HISTORY 51.2 (WINTER 2021)
making it the second best-selling manga in the
country at the time, surpassed only by veteran
mangaka Eiichiro Oda’s long-running series,
One Piece.3 That same year, production
company WIT Studio released an anime
adaptation that, thanks to the leadership of
Death Note director Tetsuro Araki and
international distributors like Netflix and
Crunchyroll, turned into a massive hit with
younger viewers.4 With over 100 million copies
sold worldwide as of 2019, Attack on Titan
currently holds the title of eighteenth best-
selling manga of all time.5
Over the years, fans and critics have
speculated extensively on the reasons behind
Isayama’s explosive and, in many ways,
unprecedented success. Theories range
anywhere from the series’ having spun a clever
twist on the now-oversaturated but once
feverishly popular dystopian fiction and
zombie-apocalypse genres, to the artist’s
supposedly unique ability to capture “the
hopelessness felt by young people” in modern
society.6 But the most interesting—and
sinister—of these hypotheses, and one that has
only gained in prominence as Attack on Titan
approaches its final episode (January 2022), can
be traced back to the very moment of the
manga’s inception: the insidious notion that
our world is, fundamentally, cruel.
In 2015, the Communist Party of China
added both the Attack on Titan manga and its
anime adaptation to a list of banned foreign
entertainment said to “encourage juvenile
delinquency, glorify violence, and include
sexual content.”7 Two years later, the question
of censorship arrived to the west with the
release of the manga’s eighty-fifth chapter
detailing Eren’s discovery of Marley, a
technologically-advanced nation-state whose
sheer existence had been hitherto unknown to
3 Anime News, “Top-Selling Manga in Japan by Series:
2013.”
4 Ryan Lambie, “What is Attack on Titan?”
5 Anime News, “Roundup of Newly Revealed Print
Counts for Manga, Light Novel Series - December
2018.”
22
the medievalesque society within the walls.
Even more shocking was the truth behind the
Titans, which turn out to be genetically
mutated human beings belonging to a race
called Eldians, who, persecuted by the
Marleyan government, are ritualistically turned
into cannibalistic monsters and sent towards
the walls in order to terrorize the people on the
other side. Yet it was not so much these
groundbreaking plot twists but the imagery
Isayama incorporated into his illustrations that
proved particularly difficult for western readers
to process. Discriminated against for their
ability to turn into Titans—an ability that,
Isayama tells us, is linked to their ancient and
mythological bloodline, and proclaimed by
state propaganda to originate from their
ancestor’s having once made a pact with the
“devil of all-earth”—the Eldians are separated
from ordinary Marlyan society through
internment camps reminiscent of Jewish
ghettos, and required by law to wear armbands
denoting their race, which are similar in design
to the Star of David.8
Of course, Isayama is far from the only
artist to draw inspiration from Nazi Germany.
Many other fantasy writers, from J.R.R.
Tolkien to J.K. Rowling, have worked—or are
believed to have worked—the visual footprint
of the Third Reich into their fictional worlds
one way or another. Few, however, have done
so as comprehensively as the creator of Attack
on Titan. Upon encountering the explicit
references to Nazi culture in the eighty-fifth
chapter, readers were stimulated to reevaluate
the series as a whole, a search that managed to
unearth other, subtler connections to fascism
that are not merely aesthetic, but ideological,
too. Indeed, a closer look at Isayama’s work
reveals that totalitarian sentiment is not just a
6 Atsuhi Ohara and Yukiko Yamane, “Boosted by
anime version, ‘Attack on Titan’ manga sales top 22
million.”
7 Kotaku, “China Banned Attack on Titan, Death Note,
and More.”
8 See fig. A.
 FILM & HISTORY 51.2 (WINTER 2021)
stylistic influence on his world-building; it is an
integral part of the story he is trying to tell.
Identifying the Enemy
The Titans are by no means your
average monstrosities. Isayama took great care
in creating them, and the peculiarities of their
design are to be understood neither as trivial
nor as being primarily for the purpose of
shock-value, even if their arresting appearance
has provoked in readers a morbid fascination
that is believed by some to have heavily
contributed to the series’ rise in popularity.9
When they first break through the outermost
wall, the Titans appear to Eren—and thus to
the reader—as incarnations of absolute evil, an
interpretation that is informed by both their
behavior and their looks. Incapable of speech
or rational thought, they pursue human
beings—which are, it should be noted, the only
organisms in which they express any interest—
much as animal predators pursue their natural
prey, but with much greater fervor and vitality.
Unlike ordinary predators, however, the Titans
do not devour human beings for nourishment.
They devour other life in a very strict sense of
the instinct “to live”: to live exclusively for a
perpetual now. Practically immortal and able to
regenerate lost limbs—including heads—
almost instantly, they seem to attack and feed
solely for the kill, the act of taking life—a
notion distilled visually in their frozen,
menacing smiles. Their lack reproductive
organs, leaving it unknown (at least at the
beginning of the story) how they might
procreate, further distances the killing from any
straightforward reproductive necessity. The
point seems to be that the Titans serve as
exaggerated versions of us when we are under
the grip of totalitarian thinking. We lose not
only our ethical sensibilities but also our sense
of extension into time through any kind of
legacy, moral or physical; all that matters is a
9 Super Eyepatch Wolf, What Makes Attack on Titan
so Popular?
10 Siegfried Kracauer, From Calegari to Hitler, p. 46.
23
grotesque and insatiable appetite for the
present, the domination of each moment, of
each vulnerable life inside that moment.
Arguably one of the most memorable
representations of the prototypical Nazi soldier
and Reich citizen appeared in the 1921 classic
film The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari under the name
Cesare, a mute and mindless slave who—much
like Isayama’s Titans—had neither the freedom
nor the mental capacity to question the
murders his autocratic master forced him to
commit.10 In his essay On Hatred, the Soviet
propagandist Ilya Ehrenburg argued, with
unsurprising hyperbole, that the Nazi invaders
had no legitimate justification for their actions.
Rejecting the idea that the German Volk was
protecting itself from extraneous threats and
ensuring the safety of future generations by
procuring living space, Ehrenburg maintained
that the Hitlerites acted mainly out of simple
spite, a sociopathic engrossment with death
and destruction. “Spite drives every soldier of
Fascism,” he writes,
After losing a battle, they subsequently
hang women and torture children.
After entering someone else’s house
and not finding anything to loot, the
Fascist soldier kills the housewife. One
German lance corporal wrote in his
diary that torture ‘cheers and even
excites’ him. In Hitler’s speeches, there
is no love for the German people; his
speeches breathe one thing: spite. Even
Hitler’s voice resembles the hoarse
bark of a hyena.11
Upon studying the works of far-right authors
published during the years of the Weimar
Republic, Klaus Theweleit noticed striking
similarities in their depictions of the antagonist
who stands in the way of the noble German
soldier, attributing to that foe “a staring face
with a hollow smile around its open mouth, a
face set apart from its own narcissistic sneer:
omnipotent, impotent.”12 The exaggeration of
11 Ilya Ehrenburg, On Hatred, p. 146.
12 Klaus Theweleit, Male Fantasies, p. 24.
 FILM & HISTORY 51.2 (WINTER 2021)
facial features recurs, of course, widely in visual
renderings of the enemy figure across both the
world and the political spectrum. But, limiting
ourselves to the Third Reich, we would do well
to distinguish the large, beak-like noses and
bulging, swollen lips used to ridicule the
“Jewish leech”—thus making his total form
appear disproportionately small—from the
furrowed brows, crooked grins, and piercing
pupils that are intended to demonize the figure
by making his total form disproportionately
large. Many representations that aim to
produce the latter of these two effects also tend
to depict him as a towering figure, one whose
enlarged size symbolizes both the depth of his
malice and the destructive potential of his
being.13 But this one-two punch helps us
understand the contradictory impulses
animating the totalitarian disposition toward
the enemy.
Although the Titans’ lack of
reproductive organs can be attributed, rather
straightforwardly, to a matter of censorship, it
would be unwise to rule out the possibility that
this anatomical subtraction was, at least to
some extent, a conscious decision on the part
of Isayama. Theweleit has already written at
length about the conception of the enemy as
impotent, his inability to give life, forcing him
to take the lives of others instead. Krafft, the
masculine hero of Hans Zöberlin’s 1937 anti-
Semitic novel The Command of Conscience,
narrowly avoids a death trap in the shape of an
infertile yet libidinous Jewish woman longing
to drag the honorable Aryan into the
“emptiness, night, and moral solitude” of her
existence.14 Yet Zöberlin’s take on the dark side
of human sexuality is, however difficult to
believe, a fairly mild one compared to, for
instance, some of the mass-produced and
mass-distributed illustrations designed to
combat the spread of venereal diseases. One
particularly striking example shows two naked
people as their intercourse is interrupted (or
13 See, for instance, figs. B and C.
14 Hans Zöberlin, Der Befehl des Gewissens, p. 41.
15 Klaus Theweleit, Male Fantasies, p. 14.
24
prevented) when the female partner’s head
suddenly transforms into a terrifying, snakelike
creature, one whose elongated throat is lined
with rows of breasts.15
The understanding of unrestricted
desire as both a self and race-destroying
enterprise led the Third Reich to reverse many
of the steps taken towards sexual liberation by
the Weimer government. It did so, for instance,
by the banning and burning of books from
sexologists and activists like Magnus
Hirschfield and Max Marcuse,16 as well as by
instituting the Nuremberg Laws of 1935, which
prohibited mixed marriages and extramarital
relations with people of inferior race.17 Like
Zöberlin’s female siren, the male beast became
an equally dreaded manifestation of the sex-
deprived degenerate. Fear of the “rapacious
bestial Jewish male” looking to force himself
onto and thus defile “innocent German
femininity” grew widespread thanks to
provocative posters showing, among other
unappealing scenes, Jewish octopuses latching
onto a chaste incarnation of the Aryan
motherland—an image which becomes even
more striking when considering that Isayama’s
Titans possess an exclusively male physique,
while the three walls that protect Eren’s society
are personified by and named after three
female goddesses: Maria, Rose, and Sina.
Fighting the Enemy
And yet this entire view is upended,
and for good reason. In many ways, Attack on
Titan appears to be a variation on the anti-war
story, part of a longstanding tradition of
pacifist literature that stretches from Walt
Disney’s 2016 animated feature film Zootopia
back to Leo Tolstoy’s 1855 Sevastopol Sketches,
and further still. Roughly speaking, this type of
narrative follows two warring factions which,
by recognizing the commonalities between
them, come to understand the futility of their
16 Dagmar Herzog, Sex after Fascism, p. 20.
17 Patricia Szobar, Telling Sexual Stories in the Nazi
Courts of Law, p. 132.
 FILM & HISTORY 51.2 (WINTER 2021)
struggle and establish peace. When Eren learns
that the person behind the breach—and the
death of his mother—is none other than his
best friend, and the mindless Titans he swore
to eradicate turn out to be thinking, feeling
human beings, the reader is led to believe that
the series’ true antagonist is not an external
entity, but the simplistic, black-and-white
worldview that consumes its principal
characters.
This revelation is deceivingly
foreshadowed in the manga’s sixth chapter,
which follows a ten-year-old Eren joining his
father, Grisha, a doctor, on a visit to one of his
patients, a girl named Mikasa who lives in the
mountains. Getting to Mikasa’s house before
his father, Eren finds her parents dead and the
girl herself tied up by men looking to sell her
into prostitution. Arming himself with a
kitchen knife, he manages to outsmart the
kidnappers before proceeding to brutally
murder every last one of them. When an
understandably horrified Grisha arrives at the
scene, he attempts to call upon his son’s
conscience. But Eren, rather than expressing
any remorse, instead becomes enraged at his
father’s inability to understand what is so
perfectly clear to him. “I did not kill people,”
he asserts, “I killed monsters that happened to
resemble people.”
And yet, even when Eren recognizes
that the monsters are people after all, his
outlook does not change. On the contrary, the
way he sees it, the enemy has not suddenly
disappeared but rather shown its true face. The
Marleyans, we are told soon thereafter, have
been at war with the Eldians since the dawn of
time, a conflict that ended only when the 145th
Eldian king, Karl Fritz, weary of all the
bloodshed, took his people to an island on the
edge of the world, where, after erecting the
walls, he used the power of the Titans to wipe
their memories. Fearing the descendants of the
royal family might one day change their mind,
and desperate to use the king’s power for their
own good, the Marleyan government
18 Carl Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 27.
25
eventually sent Zeke Yeager, Eren’s half-
brother and one of the hundreds of thousands
of Eldians left behind on the mainland during
Fritz’s exodus, to claim the source of this
ancient magic. After uncovering the true
history of the world, and witnessing the
discrimination against the Eldians upon
infiltrating Marley, Eren comes to the bleak
conclusion that the animosity between the two
races will not end until one has effectively
annihilated the other. This is the binary
thinking in which Eren has become trapped.
But so has the pacifist Zeke. Anyone
familiar with the writings of Carl Schmitt can
see at once that the relationship between the
Eldians and the Marleyans is a direct
application of the Nazi jurist’s thought. In his
book The Concept of the Political, Schmitt
identifies what he calls friend-enemy
distinctions, antagonisms that run so deep they
permeate and override every aspect of life,
from social to cultural to economic. According
to Schmitt, an enemy is not necessarily an
enemy because he is ugly or unethical, like a
Titan, but because he negates “his opponent’s
way of life” by virtue of his own—a quality that
makes coexistence with the adversary
effectively impossible.18 When accepting the
fact that conflict is an inevitable part of human
nature, one is left with two possibilities:
surrender and die or fight and live. In Attack on
Titan, these two options are represented
respectively by the characters of Zeke and
Eren. Unwilling to kill innocent people, Zeke
intends to gain control over the king’s abilities
and use them to sterilize all members of his
race. Once the Eldians will have died out, the
world shall be left to the Marleyans, who can
thenceforth live on in peace. His
“euthanization plan,” as Isayama calls it, bears
a striking resemblance to the position adopted
by Indian pacifist Mahatma Ghandi, who
maintained that the only moral answer to Nazi
Germany’s Final Solution was for the
European Jewry, along with Britons who could
be dispossessed by invading Nazis, to permit
 FILM & HISTORY 51.2 (WINTER 2021)
the violence, even at the cost of being
“slaughtered,” having presumably saved their
own “souls” and “minds” through their
pacificism.19 Eren, using a different moral
compass, finds Zeke’s plan reprehensible.
Recognizing that both the Marleyans and the
Eldians essentially fight for the same goal, he
sees no evil in fighting fire with fire if it means
securing the future of his race. After betraying
his brother to come into possession of the
king’s powers, Eren uses them to create an
army of colossal titans with the intension of to
commit what is more or less the story’s
equivalent of nuclear holocaust: convinced that
the war will not end until one side has
annihilated the other, he commands his
monsters to destroy all life on earth outside the
walls.
Defeating the Enemy
When reading Attack on Titan, few
people probably find themselves thinking of
Martin Heidegger, yet the man and the manga
are connected to each other in interesting ways.
As of today, Japan counts no less than six
translations of the German philosopher’s
seminal work, Being and Time—five more than
in the English language. This bit of trivia is not
to imply that Isayama is intimately (if at all)
familiar with the work, but it does indicate that
Heidegger’s ideas, which have an extensive and
well-researched relationship with those of
Taoism, deeply resonate with Japanese
culture.20 In the manga, various characters use
the phrase, “I was born into this world” in
order to make sense of their existence, find
justification for their actions, and rule out
suicide as a solution to their problems. This
axiom, the precise meaning of which is as
elusive as the writings of Heidegger himself,
carries with it a couple of philosophical
19 George Orwell, Reflections on Ghandi, p.4. Also see
https://www.openculture.com/2016/02/gandhi-
writes-letters-to-hitler.html (accessed 11/2/2021).
20 Alan Paskow, Heidegger and Nazism, p. 523.
26
assumptions that can only be fully
comprehended by comparison.
As Heidegger states, Being and Time was
first conceived as a critique of traditional
ontology—the phenomenological study of
being—as it had been practiced in the west for
over two centuries. He takes particular issue
with the claims of René Descartes, who he
believes presented the world “with its skin
off.”21 Denying the famous adage I think
therefore I am, Heidegger argued that an entity
could not possibly be understood as
independent from the world around them,
because, by definition, the only way to exist
was, simply, in the world. Because the world
predates the self and goes on existing long after
the self has dissolved; it also precedes any
human code of ethics, a supposition which led
him to conclude that concepts of good and evil
are, fundamentally, dependent on one’s place
in the world.22 Consequently, only by accepting
one’s thrownness, meaning one’s artificially
determined situation in space and time, could
one begin to live authentically. But does living
authentically require violence? It should be
noted that the scholarship defending
Heidegger from Nazi ideology far
outnumbers—and outweighs—the scholarship
that hands him over to it.23 Nonetheless, while
the philosopher’s ideas provide no direct
excuse for violence, some of his writing,
notably his 1933 inaugural address, The Self-
Assertion of the German University, illustrates how
conceptual needs could be adapted to serve the
political needs of the Hitlerites: “Questioning
then unfolds its most authentic strength to
unlock the essential in all things. […] Only a
spiritual world guarantees the people greatness.
For it forces the constant decision between the
will to greatness and the acceptance of decline
to become the law for each step of the march
that our people has begun into its future
history. […] The very questionableness of
21 Martin Heidegger, Being and Time, p. 132.
22 Michael Zimmerman, Heidegger, Ethics, and National
Socialism, p. 99.
23 Alan Paskow, Heidegger and Nazism, p. 520.
 FILM & HISTORY 51.2 (WINTER 2021)
Being forces the people to work and fight and
forces it into its state, to which the professions
belong”.24
Here’s the problem, in admittedly
reductive terms: If you are thrown arbitrarily
into the world, then, to possess (own) your
“self,” to be true to your essential being, you
must enter a tautology: aim to be true—
authentically—to what you have already been
“thrown” into becoming artificially. As Eren
prepares to destroy the nation of Marley, as
well as the innocent civilians he knows reside
there, his friends attempt to dissuade him. But
Eren, possessed by his fatalistic understanding
of reality, refuses to listen, and sums up his
argument to them in a single sentence: “I have
always been this way.” Having grown up in a
society that hides behind walls, under the
influence of a pacifist king who, unbeknownst
to his subjects, wanted them to atone for the
sins of their ancestors, Eren resolves to remain
true to what he himself has always believed in
spite of what others—those whom Heidegger
would perhaps refer to as ‘the Man,’ or the
‘they-self’—told him: that he will fight for
freedom and survival, no matter the cost.
Eren’s final resolution bears, in some
respect, a striking similarity to one of the
Columbine killers, Eric Harris, who wrote in
his diary that “the human race isn’t worth
fighting for, only worth killing. Give the Earth
back to the animals. They deserve it infinitely
more than we do. Nothing means anything
anymore.”25 Perhaps this is what one of the
aforementioned journalists meant when they
said—in rather vague terms—that Attack on
Titan captures “the hopelessness felt by young
people in today’s society.” Perhaps indeed, but
the statements made by Eren and the school
shooter, two young and highly motivated
perpetrators of mass murder, also vary gravely
in that the latter professes mankind to be
inherently evil and the world (which, as he says,
ought to be given back to the animals)
24 See http://la.utexas.edu/users/hcleaver/330T/
350kPEEHeideggerSelf-Assertion.pdf (accessed
10/1/2021).
27
inherently good, while Eren, believing
mankind to be good (that is, fighting for a
noble cause), concludes the real enemy to be
the world itself. In this regard, Isayama does
not appear to align himself with Adolf Hitler as
much as with another influential German
figure, Arthur Schopenhauer, who wrote the
following charming words about a beach in
Java covered, “as far as the eye could see,” with
skeletons,
The skeletons of large turtles, five feet
long and three feet broad, and the same
height, which come this way out of the
sea in order to lay their eggs, and are
then attacked by wild dogs, who with
their united strength lay them on their
backs, strip off their lower armor, that
is, the small shell of the stomach, and
so devour them alive. But often then a
tiger pounces upon the dogs. Now all
this misery repeats itself thousands and
thousands of times, year out, year in.
For this, then, these turtles are born.
For whose guilt must they suffer this
torment?26
The answer is: For none. They must suffer—
because they were born into this world.
25 Eric Harris’s Journal.
26 Arthur Schopenhauer, The World as Will and
Representation, vol. 3, p. 112.
 FILM & HISTORY 51.2 (WINTER 2021)

Fig. A: Eldian residents of the Liberio Internment Zone

in Marley, Hajime Isayama, chapter 85, The Basement

Fig. C: Cover art for the first volume of Attack on Titan,

Hajime Isayama, 2009

Fig. B: White Army propaganda poster depicting

Bolshevik Leon Trotsky, unknown, c. 1920

Works Cited

Ashcraft, Brian. “China Banned Attack on Titan, Death Note, and More.” Kotaku, Sep. 6, 2015,
https://kotaku.com/china-banned-attack-on-titan-death-note-and-more-1710016281.
Accessed Oct. 25, 2019.
Churchill, Winston. The Lights are Going Out, 1938.

28
 FILM & HISTORY 51.2 (WINTER 2021)

Ehrenburg, Ilya and Konstantin Simonov. In One Newspaper: A Chronicle of Unforgettable Years.
Moscow: Sphinx Press, 1985.
Harris, Eric. “Eric Harris’s Journal.” School Shooters Info. Transcribed and annotated by Peter
Langman. https://schoolshooters.info/sites/default/files/harris_journal_1.3.pdf. Accessed
Dec. 10, 2019.
Heidegger, Martin. Being and Time. New York: State University of New York Press, 1962.
Herzog, Dagmar. Sex After Fascism: Memory and Morality in Twentieth Century Germany. Princeton:
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Isayama, Hajime. Shingeki no Kyojin. Tokyo, Kodansha, 2009.
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Lambie, Ryan. “What is Attack on Titan?” Den of Geek, Dec. 5, 2013. Accessed Oct. 25, 2019.
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