L’Otello di Verdi e Boito

Giuseppe Pucci[1]

L’Otello di Verdi e Boito

Abstract

Shakespeare’s Othello and Verdi’s and Boito’s Otello are compared, stressing differences in structure, lexical choices and characters’ psychology. The aesthetic achievements of its score and libretto make the opera as great a masterpiece as the tragedy.

Keywords

Verdi, Boito, Otello

Il presente contributo è dedicato all’unica riscrittura di un’opera di Shakespeare che viene considerata un capolavoro di grandezza pari – qualcuno dice anche superiore – all’originale: l’Otello di Verdi e Boito[2]. Poche volte si sentirà dire “il Trovatore di Verdi e Cammarano”, o “l’Aida di Verdi e Ghislanzoni”; ma è normale dire “l’Otello di Verdi e Boito”, et pour cause.

Verdi ebbe sempre una vera e propria venerazione per Shakespeare. Gli si accostò una prima volta, poco più che trentenne, con il Macbeth (1847), ma il risultato non lo soddisfece molto, anche per la debolezza del libretto, firmato da Francesco Maria Piave. Per circa cinquant’anni accarezzò l’idea di comporre un Re Lear, ma non ne fece mai nulla. Probabilmente non avrebbe mai scritto neanche l’Otello, che era l’altra grande tragedia che lo appassionava, se non ci fosse stata una specie di congiura tra l’editore, Giulio Ricordi, la moglie, Giuseppina Strepponi, e altri amici per convincerlo a collaborare con Arrigo Boito, un intellettuale colto e sensibile, l’unico – così gli assicuravano – che gli avrebbe fornito un libretto adeguato.

Il primo abbozzo del libretto Verdi lo ebbe fra le mani nel 1879, ma il “progetto Cioccolatte”, come Verdi lo chiamava scherzosamente, ebbe una gestazione lunghissima[3]: l’opera andò in scena solo otto anni dopo, nel 1887, quando Verdi di anni ne aveva già settantaquattro. Agli inizi Verdi diffidava di quell’ex scapigliato che fino a pochi anni prima era stato un acceso sostenitore di Wagner contro la vecchia scuo­la italiana – quindi anche contro di lui – ma poi lo apprezzò, e – cosa abbastanza inedita – lo rispettò come collaboratore.

Dei precedenti librettisti di Verdi si è detto a ragione che scrivevano sotto dettatura. In effetti l’epistolario ci fa conoscere un Verdi che esercita un controllo pressoché dittatoriale sul taglio delle scene, sui versi e talvolta sulle singole parole. Con Boito fu diverso. Ci provò anche con lui, naturalmente, ma quando Boito tenne duro, con solidi argomenti, fu Verdi a farsi convincere. Per esempio, a un certo momento Verdi propose, per movimentare l’azione, di introdurre al termine del terzo atto un attacco dei Turchi di cui non c’è traccia in Shakespeare. Boito gli fece notare che il dramma di Otello si svolge principalmente nella sua psiche e che chiamare in causa un evento esterno avrebbe rovinato tutta l’atmosfera. In questo caso aveva sicuramente ragione lui, però, nonostante la sua cultura superiore, Boito non sottovalutò mai l’intelligenza e l’intuito di Verdi. Lavorarono bene insieme – per ben otto anni – perché Boito capiva di musica (scrisse, come si sa, due opere, Mefistofele e Nerone) e Verdi capiva di letteratura.

Grande apertura Verdi dimostrò anche sul piano musicale. Nel­l’O­tel­lo ci sono molte novità che in tanti all’epoca considerarono di derivazione wagneriana. Non è proprio così, naturalmente, ma è vero che non ci sono più i numeri chiusi (recitativo, aria e cabaletta) e c’è invece un flusso musicale continuo. Ci sono anche altre cose eterodosse: manca l’ouverture, e l’eroe non si presenta col solito pezzo di bravura ma con una mini cavatina di dodici battute (“Esultate, l’orgoglio musulmano sepolto è in mar”) che è sufficiente a comunicare da subito il valore e l’autorevolezza del personaggio. Ma vediamo in concreto come Verdi e Boito hanno rifatto l’Otello.

Per ovvi motivi il melodramma deve riassumere, concentrare l’a­zio­ne drammatica. Boito ridusse i 3500 versi di Shakespeare a 700. A fare le spese di questo sfrondamento fu soprattutto il primo atto, quello che si svolge a Venezia, che fu completamente tagliato. Ma Boito ne recuperò intelligentemente alcune parti trasponendole nel suo primo atto, che corrisponde al secondo di Shakespeare. Il racconto che in Shakespeare Otello fa al Senato di come ha conquistato l’amore di Desdemona torna nel primo duetto tra Otello e Desdemona (“Già nella notte densa”) semplicemente con la sostituzione di tu a she: “E tu m’amavi per le mie sventure ed io t’amavo per la tua pietà”. Parole che Desdemona fa sue, specularmente, nella commozione del ricordo: “Ed io t’amavo per le tue sventure e tu m’amavi per la mia pietà”.

Molto più efficaci risultano nella raccolta intimità di questo duetto – giustamente definito “una delle pagine più poetiche dell’Ottocento italiano” (cfr. Pederzoli 2007-2008: 53) – le parole che in Shakespeare Otello e Desdemona si scambiano in pubblico ritrovandosi a Cipro: “Venga la morte! e mi colga nel­l’estasi / di quest’amplesso / il momento supremo! / Tale è il gaudio dell’anima che temo, / temo che più non mi sarà concesso / que­st’at­timo divino / nell’ignoto avvenir del mio destino”. E si potrebbero fare tanti altri esempi di accorti spostamenti che valorizzano al meglio il testo originale.

Ma veniamo alla caratterizzazione dei personaggi[4]. Cominciamo da Jago, perché tanto per Boito quanto per Verdi era Jago il personaggio centrale, al punto che inizialmente pensavano di intitolare l’opera “Jago”. Verdi in particolare fu a lungo alla ricerca di un volto per il suo Jago, e chiese a questo proposito aiuto all’amico pittore Domenico Morelli, esponente di spicco della scuola napoletana. Questi gli rispose che lo vedeva “rigorosamente vestito di nero, per rispecchiare il suo animo malvagio, ma con un aspetto in contrasto con la sua natura, da uomo onesto, quale è ritenuto da Otello fin dall’inizio, quando gli rivolge la parola chiamandolo ‘Onesto Jago’”. Verdi accolse entusiasticamente il suggerimento: “Bene, benone, benissimo, benississssimo [sic]! Jago con la faccia da galantuomo! Hai col­pi­to! Oh lo sapevo bene: ne ero sicuro”.

Lo Jago che Verdi vuole sulla scena è qualcuno al di sopra di ogni sospetto, una figura odiosa non avrebbe potuto ingannare tutti come fa lui. Del resto già negli Hecatommithi di Giraldi Cinzio, la fonte del­l’O­telloshakespeariano, il personaggio che corrisponde a Jago è descritto come “un alfiere di bellissima presenza”, seppure “della più scel­lerata natura”.

Ma chi è davvero Jago? In Shakespeare lui stesso si presenta dicendo: “I am not what I am”, frase che rovescia con tutta evidenza il biblico “Io sono colui che sono” senza per questo darci una risposta chiara. François-Victor Hugo (figlio del grande Victor), nella prefazione alla propria traduzione dell’Otello shakespeariano, che Verdi e Boito ben conoscevano, scrive di Jago che “moralement il a l’hypocrisie de Tartufe; intellectuellement il a le scepticisme de Don Juan; il ne lui manque que le pouvoir surnaturel pour être Méphistophélès” (Hugo 1860). Verdi e Βoito lo vedono allo stesso modo: un uomo e non un essere soprannaturale.

Nell’ultimo atto della tragedia di Shakespeare Otello gli guarda i piedi, ma non vede il piede caprino del demonio. Essendo puramente umana, la malvagità di Jago è ancora più potente, tanto più che essa si nasconde dietro la simulazione, anche se occasionalmente viene fuori, per esempio quando parlando con Roderigo dice “ed io rimango di sua Moresca signoria l’alfiere!”: frase apparentemente autocommiseratoria, ma di cui Verdi rende tutta la minacciosità con un trillo che svela un sarcasmo rabbioso.

Subito dopo Boito inserisce la battuta: “Ma, come è ver che Roderigo sei, / così è pur vero che se il Moro io fossi, / vedermi non vorrei d’at­torno un Jago”. La battuta deriva da un verso shakespeariano molto controverso: “were I the Moor, I would not be Jago” (alla lettera: “se io fossi il Moro, non sarei Jago”).

Dato che non possiamo evidentemente liquidarlo come un truismo, ci si è chiesto cosa volesse dire in realtà Shakespeare. Serpieri lo legge in chiave psicanalitica, come l’espressione di una complessa figura di sdoppiamento di personalità, con Jago e Otello intrappolati in una dialettica servo-padrone. Boito per cavarsi d’impaccio prese di peso la traduzione di Carlo Rusconi (Rusconi 1828), una delle poche italiane all’epoca disponibili.

Ma questo è proprio uno di quei casi in cui Verdi ebbe da ridire, anzi, sollevò addirittura una questione filologica: “Caro Boito, sui tre versi fatti ultimamente ho consultato l’originale... For, sir, were I the Moor I would not be Jago’. ‘Perché, Signor, fossi io il Moro io vorrei non esser Jago’. Così pure Hugo dice ‘Si j’étais le More je ne voudrais pas être Jago’”. Anche nella traduzione di Maffei: “Quand’io potessi trasformarmi nel Moro essere un Jago già non vorrei”. Insomma, il contadino di Sant’Agata fa le pulci al grande letterato. Ma Boito non demorde: “Caro Maestro, quella che sto per scrivere pare una bestemmia: Preferisco la frase di Rusconi. Esprime maggiori cose che non esprima il testo. Per noi che abbiamo dovuto rinunciare alle mirabili scene che hanno luogo a Venezia, dove sono accennati questi sentimenti, la frase del Rusconi torna utilissima”. Verdi capì e abbozzò.

Nell’opera mancano in effetti alcune delle motivazioni dell’agire di Jago che in Shakespeare sono esplicitate: per esempio il sospetto che il Moro sia andato a letto con sua moglie Emilia, o anche il desiderio che egli stesso prova nei confronti di Desdemona. Questa è una precisa scelta di Boito, che la motiva così: “Otello ha eletto capitano Cassio in vece sua. Ma questa causa gli basta; se fosse più grave la scelleraggine sarebbe minore”.

Sul machiavellismo dello Jago di Shakespeare molto si è scritto. Jago è certamente un grande “tecnico” della parola, ma per Boito importante non è tanto quello che dice quanto quello che tace. La sua arma più micidiale, quella che porta Otello alla rovina, è anche la più subdola: la reticenza (Bini 2006). Otello è un uomo di azione, uno abituato a esa­mi­nare la situazione e a prendere delle decisioni immediate, d’istinto. Jago, invece, fa in modo che non abbia mai in mano tutti gli elementi, lo tiene in sospeso e lascia che cuocia nel suo brodo. È il non detto che mette in fibrillazione Otello, sono quelle frasi non finite, quelle pause sapienti che destabilizzano Otello, perché in quel vuoto tutto può esistere, anche i mostri che genera il sonno della sua ragione. Quando nel terzo atto Jago inscena ad uso e consumo di Otello la recita con Cassio, facendogli credere che parli di Desdemona mentre in realtà parla di Bianca, la sua amante, anche lì Otello soffre di più per quello che non arriva a sentire: “Le parole non odo… o lasso!” (frase che non c’è in Shakespeare, ma che è appunto coerente con la concezione di Boito).

Dosando accortamente mezze verità e insinuazioni, Jago arriva a mettere Otello in uno stato di coscienza alterato, quasi a drogarlo. Shakespeare gli fa dire: “My medicine, work!”. Boito trasforma la battuta in “II mio velen lavora”, mutando l’imperativo in una compiaciuta constatazione. La resa di “medicine” con “veleno” è accettabile, ma il Grande Vecchio, quando in una lettera a Morelli si era riferito a questo passo, aveva utilizzato la traduzione di Rusconi “opera, farmaco mio”, che è più fedele, perché si rifà al duplice significato di pharmakon, medicamento e veleno. Ed è un veleno che viene somministrato attraverso l’orecchio, pro­prio come nell’Amleto.

La climax della manipolazione di Otello si ha nel racconto menzognero del sogno di Cassio. Qui Jago diventa, oltre che regista, attore di una tragedia che lui stesso ha creato. Verdi ne fa genialmente una sorta di dolce ninnananna, con dei pianissimo e dei crescendo che richiamano i movimenti ondeggianti di un serpente che sta ipnotizzando la sua vittima.

Però musicalmente e drammaticamente il pezzo forte di Jago è il grande assolo del secondo atto, il famoso Credo. Come tutti sanno, è questa un’invenzione di Boito. In Shakespeare c’è solo, alla fine del primo atto, una generica glorificazione da parte di Jago della “divinity of hell”. Qualche critico ha visto un’incongruenza tra lo Jago ambiguo e sfuggente del resto dell’opera e questo del Credo che professa con iattanza una fede apertamente blasfema e nichilistica. Ma il senso dell’operazione di Boito è proprio questo: dare una motivazione non contingente alle azioni del personaggio, trasformarlo da piccolo gaglioffo mosso da motivi meschini a titano del male, paradigma di una nequizia quintessenziale.

Si noti a questo proposito che Boito espunge tutte le battute grevi, i riferimenti sessuali volgari che invece Shakespeare mette con dovizia in bocca a Jago. Qui il personaggio è troppo seriamente votato al male per indulgere a queste frivolezze.

A differenza del Credo cattolico, che è universale, questo è il Credo di Jago, vale a dire di uno spirito infelice che si è condannato da solo a vivere vilmente nel vile universo di cui si sente parte.

Al Credo di Jago fa da contraltare un altro felice innesto di Boito, l’A­ve Maria di Desdemona, nel quarto atto. Desdemona è l’antitesi di Jago. Quegli è l’emblema del male, questa dell’innocenza. Ciò è in buona misura conseguenza dalla soppressione del primo atto della tragedia, per cui nell’opera nulla veniamo a sapere di quello che lì si diceva, cioè del coraggio col quale la fanciulla a Venezia ha strappato il consenso a un matrimonio interrazziale, o della spregiudicatezza con cui sa rivendicare il diritto al piacere nel rapporto coniugale. Da donna indipendente e volitiva passa al ruolo di vittima sacrificale, tutta pietà e bontà, che prima prega la Madonna “pel possente, mi­sero anch’esso”, e poi addirittura accusa se stessa della propria mor­te pur di discolpare il marito. Insomma, diventa un po’ un “santino”, sulla falsariga dell’interpretazione che del personaggio aveva dato Schlegel (Schlegel 1809). Ma deve essere così. Desdemona, in fondo, non è che un miraggio di Otello, quel “miraggio – come dice lui stesso – dov’io, giulivo, l’ani­ma acqueto”.

Anche per il personaggio di Otello il melodramma ha imposto delle semplificazioni. Per dirne una, in Shakespeare lo vediamo addirittura accusato di avere circuito Desdemona con pratiche magiche, tanto appariva contro natura l’amore di una bianca per un moro. Nell’opera invece il tema razziale non ha praticamente rilevanza (Zanon 2007).

Nella tragedia egli rivela maggiormente le sue doti di condottiero e di uomo di stato, nell’opera è sostanzialmente un ingenuo che si lascia facilmente trasportare dalle passioni. E Boito e Verdi su quelle puntano: sull’amore e la gelosia. Ma puntano anche sul patetismo della catastrophé, del rovesciamento di fortuna dell’eroe. Ciò è evidente non tanto in “Ora e per sempre addio sante memorie” dell’atto secondo, dove Otello fa il suo addio alle armi in presenza di Jago, quanto nel soliloquio “Dio! mi potevi scagliar tutti i mali” dell’atto terzo, dove Boito recupera versi che invece in Shakespeare fanno parte del dialogo tra gli sposi della seconda scena del quarto atto.

Il soliloquio in pianissimo di Verdi esprime magistralmente il senso di spossatezza fisica e spirituale che pervade Otello. L’eroe è come svuo­tato, e parlando di Desdemona dice “Spento è quel sol, quel sorriso, quel raggio / che mi fa vivo”, parole che suonano come una cupa premonizione dell’epilogo della tragedia: morta la moglie, per sua stessa mano, il Moro non può sopravviverle. Il discorso di morte di Otello è un recitativo, estremamente teso, in cui il senso di sconfitta si riassume nella frase “Ecco la fine / del mio cammin... Oh! Gloria! Otello fu”.

E non è un caso che – nell’opera come nella tragedia – la fine della vita sia legata alla fine della gloria. Il tradimento che crede di aver subito significa per il Moro anche la perdita dell’onore, e quindi una diminuzione insopportabile di status. Da questo punto di vista Otello è un eroe tragico al pari dell’Aiace di Sofocle. Se la reputazione viene compromessa, l’essere sociale si sgretola e l’individuo perde il contatto con la realtà, sprofonda nel caos. La caduta, però, non è determinata, come nella tragedia greca, dal Fato o da una colpa (hamartía) che gli dei puniscono. Otello diventa vittima di Jago perché, come dice Agostino Lombardo (Lombardo 1996), l’eroe è cieco di fronte alla realtà, l’eroe non sa leggere il mondo.

Solo pronunciando le sue ultime parole Otello riacquista in Shakespeare la sua lucidità, ritorna compos sui: “Io prima ti ho baciata, poi ti ho uccisa. Altro non mi restava che uccidermi, e morire su un tuo bacio”. Versi indubbiamente belli, ma un po’ algidi. La musica di Verdi invece fa della scena qualcosa di molto più toccante. E lo fa in maniera molto semplice: riprendendo il tema del bacio dal finale del primo atto, quasi a chiudere un percorso circolare che da eros conduce a thanatos. Anche le parole tornano quasi identiche: “Un bacio… un bacio ancora… ah!… un altro bacio…”. Solo che ora il declamato non ha quasi tonalità, e l’ultima sillaba è detta in un rantolo.

È noto quello che ebbe a scrivere George Bernard Shaw: “The truth is that, instead of Otello being an Italian opera written in the style of Shakespeare, Othello is a play written by Shakespeare in the style of Italian opera” (Shaw 1901). Shaw era un uomo straordinariamente intelligente e brillante, ma quella volta io credo che il gusto del paradosso lo abbia tradito. L’Otello di Verdi e Boito è veramente un’opera italiana scritta alla maniera di Shakespeare, se con questo intendiamo la capacità di scolpire personaggi e situazioni memorabili capaci di parlare, ora e sempre, alla nostra testa e al nostro cuore.

Bibliografia

Aldrich-Moodie, J., False fidelity: Othello, Otello, and their critics, “Comparative drama”, n. 28, 3 (1994), pp. 324 -47.

Aycock, R.E., Shakespeare, Boito, and Verdi, “The musical quarterly”, n. 58, 4 (1972), pp. 588-604.

Bini, D., Reticence, a rhetorical strategy in Othello/Otello: Shakespeare, Verdi-Boito, Zeffirelli, “Italica”, n. 83, 2 (2006), pp. 238-55.

Broyles, M.E., Mahaney, W.E., Structure and dramatic tone in Othello and Otello, “Studies in the humanities”, n. 3, 2 (1973), pp. 8-16.

Eösze, L., Otello, dramma di Shakespeare e opera di Verdi, in AA.VV., Il teatro e la musica di Giuseppe Verdi. Atti del III congresso internazionale di studi verdiani, Parma, Istituto di studi verdiani, 1974, pp. 20-6.

Fisher, B.D. (a cura di), Verdi’s Otello, Miami, Opera Journeys Publishing, 2001.

Hauger, G., Othello and Otello, “Music & letters”, n. 50, 1 (1969), pp. 76-85.

Hugo, F.-V., Oeuvres complètes de William Shakespeare, vol. V, 2, Paris, Pagnerre, 1860.

Leggatt, A., Love and faith in Othello and Otello, “University of Toronto quarterly”, n. 81, 4 (2012), pp. 836-49.

Lombardo, A., L’eroe tragico moderno: Faust, Amleto, Otello, Roma, Donzelli, 1996.

Marenco, F., Il doppio mondo di Otello, in Crivelli, R.S., Restivo, G. (a cura di), Inscenare/interpretare Otello, Bologna, Clueb, 2006, pp. 195-210.

Minear, E., Music and the crisis of meaning in Othello, “Studies in English literature, 1500-1900”, n. 49, 2 (2009), pp. 355-70.

Pederzoli, E., Una riscrittura dell’Otello di Boito e Verdi: la ricetta per il “cioccolatte”, Tesi di Laurea, Università di Bologna, a.a. 2007-2008 (https://www.academia.edu/13845958/Una_riscrittura_dellOtello_Boito_e_Verdi_la_ricetta_per_il_Cioccolatte_).

Rodin, K., Verdi’s Faustian Otello, “Interdisciplinary humanities”, n. 30, 2 (2013), pp. 66-80.

Rusbridger, R., Projective identification in Othello and Verdi’s Otello, “International journal of psychoanalysis”, n. 94 (2013), pp. 33-47.

Rusconi, C. (a cura di), Teatro completo di Shakespeare tradotto dall’originale inglese in prosa italiana, vol. I, 1, Padova, Minerva, 1828.

Schlegel, W.A., Corso di letteratura drammatica (1809), tr. it. di G. Gherardini, vol. III, Milano, Giusti, 1841, pp. 86-9.

Serpieri, A., Otello: l’eros negato, Napoli, Liguori, 2003.

Shaw, G.B., A word more about Verdi, “Anglo-Saxon review”, n. 8 (1901), pp. 221-9.

Verdi, G., Boito, A., Carteggio, a cura di M. Medici e M. Conati, Parma, Istituto di studi verdiani, 1978.

Wills, G., Verdi’s Shakespeare: men of the theater, London, Penguin, 2011.

Zanon, T., Il “bianco” e il “nero”. Boito e il libretto per l’Otello di Verdi, in AA.VV., Studi in onore di Pier Vincenzo Mengaldo per i suoi settant’anni, Firenze, Sismel-Edizioni del Galluzzo, 2007, pp. 953-65.

2017 The Author. Open Access published under the terms of the CC-BY-4.0.

[1] pucci@unisi.it.

[2] Tra i molti studi dedicati al confronto tra le due opere si sono tenuti presenti in modo particolare: Hauger 1969, Aycock 1972, Broyles e Mahaney 1973, Eösze 1974, Aldrich-Moodie 1994, Fisher 2001, Minear 2009, Wills 2011, Leggatt 2012. Molto informata e utile la tesi di laurea di E. Pederzoli (Pederzoli 2007-2008).

[3] Ampiamente documentata dal carteggio tra musicista e librettista (cfr. Verdi e Boito 1978).

[4] Oltre alle opere già citate, si vedano al riguardo Marenco 2006, Serpieri 2003, Rodin 2013, Rusbridger 2013.

A MYSTERY GAPING INSIDE

Kirakira Precure à la Mode
Episode 48 - My Own Review

A MYSTERY GAPING INSIDE

Elysio uses the power of both Noir and Lumière to change into this form

Previously, Elisio was able to create a world where there was no love (daisuki). Of course, since the PreCures are all about daisuki love, they naturally oppose this. Elysio doesn’t have room for people with daisuki love in his perfect world, so he intends to eliminate PreCures.

There are actually some instances of close quarters combat during the Elysio fight. Like this badass swordplay against Chocolat!

CURE GELATO: Meet my good friend Mr. Wright-Hooke!

ELYSIO (no comment, blocks the ice boxing glove)

 

Cure Macaron attacks

As they fight, Elysio says that he has no feelings. Everything he has done up to this point has merely been observation and imitation.
The fight continues, with Elysio attempting to capture the PreCures in his cards. However, they were blasted away and launch their own attack. Counterattack!

One Pretty Cure Fantastic Special coming up!

As PreCures' attack clashes with Elysio’s, kirakiraru rains down upon the world beneath them. As it falls, the people start recalling their emotions and returning to normal (including Misaki, the Wild Azüre guys, the Cures' families...).

Misaki and others, astonished and still with Empty Eyes,

catch kirakiraru in their cupped hands 

Glaive and the Mooks rejoice

 Prof. Tachibana, Mr. Mizushima, Pikalio... lose their Empty Eyes

Elysio is surprised to see everyone going back to normal. He is told it is the power of daisuki love, before PreCures’ attack sends him into the upper atmosphere.

Since Elysio wasn’t able to win his battle, he decides for a different option instead. Raising the stakes indeed.

 About to swallow the whole Earth

 Taking everyone with me! 

Elysio effectively becomes a black hole

Waiting for everything to end, after swallowing everyone.

Elysio turns himself into a black hole. A black fricking hole. He pulls the entire Earth inside of himself. He is actually successful in doing that, and he intends to drift through outer space until his body crumbles to dust afterwards. Basically, to commit suicide and take everyone else with him.

CURE CHOCOLAT: Granny!!

 But she's completely powerless as old Mrs. Kenjo fades away.

In the end, only the Precures are left standing.

Our PreCures find themselves trapped within Elysio, where they have to endure watching their loved ones seemingly disappear. Just as all hope seems lost, a familiar voice calls out to them.

 The Elder encourages the others

Since the Elder has no physical body, he is able to move around freely within Elysio. He happily presents his own kirakiraru to the PreCure ensemble, setting them free, and tells them that kirakiraru remains even in the faintest life. The Elder isn’t the only one who hasn’t disappeared yet.

Bilberry refuses to be controlled by Elysio

And so does Pikalio

BILBERRY: Allez allez, Cielito lindo! Everyone is waiting!

Everyone gathers (in the usual Back for the Finale style) to present their kirakiraru to the PreCures.

The Elder tells them to make sweets with it, and trust the power of those sweets. That’s exactly what PreCures do, but it proves to be fruitless.

ELYSIO: You are all powerless within me...

A cupcake appears where Elysio was.

Elysio's memory: Noir's soul takes the cupcake and uses it to bring his lifeless body back to life, shoving the cake into the dead soldier's chest.

Noir's resurrected, heartless, soulless body became Elysio.

 Tempting an orphan without anyone or anything...

...and a brother in the shade of his prodigy sister.

Elysio tells them that it is pointless, as people’s hearts are powerless within his body. We see a few flashbacks of how Elysio was created, as well as Noir recruiting Bilberry and Pikalio. He claims his body is an empty shell devoid of kirakiraru (no surprise, since Elysio lacks an affective dimension... more about that on our motive-hunting below!).

 

 Remembering all the hatred of the servants of darkness who had given their lives against the light...

ELYSIO: Why must there always be this endless battle?

Sincerely, he feels sad about the whole world being full of conflict. That was the reason why he wanted to resort to an apocalypse... wait a second... Elysio feels? So he has a heart at the end of the day!

Elisio does actually have a heart; it is made of Lumière’s kirakiraru

So I had a heart... of my own... after all?

The Cures smile at Elysio, encouraging him.

They sympathize with his struggle, assuring him that people's hearts can connect, and that they won't know if they would recreate the world unless they give it a try.

Elysio is not actually an empty shell – he was created when Noir darkened the kirakiraru from a cupcake that Lumière made, right when their relationship began to become abusive. As such, he is not truly an empty vessel.

The Cures escape from Elysio's body

The Cures take that kirakiraru and mix it together with the kirakiraru they received from everyone else.
Using that kirakiraru, they are able to bring about a miracle.

ELYSIO: Please try to recreate a second Earth...

 Planet Sweets, ie Second Earth

Our PreCures are able to restore the world.

I'm looking forwards to that brave new world of yours.

As they fall back to Earth, Elysio tells them he looks forward to the future that they’ve created. He also lets Lumière and Noir go free, releasing his "parents" from the cards where they had been trapped.

Then, to the elements be free, and fare thee well...

A birthday cake 

Upon their return to Earth’s surface, they see that Mount Ichigo has become a big old birthday cake.

Bilberry, the Elder, and Pikalio are waiting outside the KiraPâti to greet them upon their return – it seems that they and PreCures are the only ones who remember what just happened.
Inside the KiraPâti, the birthday party resumes as if nothing had ever happened. 

 All together now!

That wraps up episode 48. There is one more episode to go after this. I’ll most likely write a review for the season after I’ve watched it, though if anything noteworthy crops up then I will cover it
As for this episode; well, I enjoyed that final battle. Noir’s final form was something I liked a lot, and I enjoyed how we actually got some punches and kicks thrown into the combat after not seeing them for an entire season.

Elysio pulled off a rather interesting stunt in this episode – I certainly didn’t expect him to absorb the entire planet. There are occasions when a PreCure villain is actually able to successfully achieve their plans – Elysio may have been desperate at that point, but he did get to do what he wanted to do.
Of course, this is PreCure, so it was never going to stick. Everyone coming together to share their kira-kiraru… yeah, that’s a PreCure way of resolving things all right. Got to give some bonus points to the Elder for his contribution as well.
Overall a pretty good episode, and I’m happy with the way that the conflict ended. Judging by the preview, it looks like the final episode of KiraKira ☆ PreCure à la Mode will feature a character that we will get to know more in a couple of weeks’ time.

MY OWN HUMBLE OPINION:
Once more, we have to peruse Elysio's motives and praise yet another Well-Intentioned Extremist while questioning the means that may not justify the end.
Ai vs. koi vs. daisuki: while ai is selfless/unconditional love and koi is romantic love, daisuki is the love you feel when you adore something, when you like something with a passion (in Ciel's case, sweets; in Aoi's case, hard rock; in my own case: literature, bifauxnen, musical theatre, translating lyrics...).
Elysio being emotionless: maybe, like Iago (in one of my headcanons), Elysio, being a psychopath devoid of affection, envies everyone else for having feelings of their own, and that is why he seeks to ruin the lives of others.
Does this count as a Fantastic Voyage Plot? Well, the finale of DokiDoki was one, seeing how they had to be literally ingested and make their way into the overlord's literal darkened heart. Right, in one of the most badass finales ever, the overlord ABSORBS THE WHOLE FRICKING EARTH, PEOPLE AND ALL.
Elysio and Voldemort (and the Skywalkers): Let's face the fact: both Elysio and Voldemort are the offspring of an abusive relationship in which the abuser (as usual in real life) had been themself subject to trauma (domestic in Merope's case, wartime in Noir's), which led them to become overly clingy and controlling, living their partner's life, which could only result in a shattering breakup. As a result, the only fruit of said relationship was condemned to lead a listless existence as an affectless, coldly intellectual psychopath.
However, sparing Elysio and teaching him the error of his ways, aside from his own humanity, is, as usual, the non-confrontational result that separates Eastern from Western media. Unlike Elysio, Voldemort detaches himself completely from his humanity, which he sees as flawed, and not even a legion of Dumbledore's Armies could bring him back to the light.
But still Elysio's suicide attempt, like an extreme cosmic kamikaze, presents him as an anti-Voldemort. Elysio wants to transcend reality by utter nihilism, by annihilating himself and everyone else. This brings us back to Iago's Creed, but not in the Death Eaters' Übermensch version, rather on the opposite end of the spectrum:

We're playthings in a game, there's no denying,

from cradle to the gravestone,

as long as we can tell...

Then all of us are equalised in dying,

and then? Post death there's nothing,

neither heaven nor hell...

It's also interesting to see that the Skywalker twins were also the fruit of such an abusive relationship (one that has as many Othello parallels as that between Lumière and Noir), but, in spite of being tempted and wavering time after time, neither Luke nor Leia gave in to the dark side. Surely they got that positivity from Padmé, like Elysio got his positivity from his own "mum." Again, Star Wars is far closer to Eastern thought than the Potterverse.
The Fisherman's Shadow: Oscar Wilde wrote his own deconstruction of the Little Mermaid: in this version, it's the young human, a fisherman, who bargains with a gorgeous land witch to become a merman. To do so, he has to sever the shadow around his feet with a snakeskin dagger, with his back to the full moon and facing the ocean. The shadow is the body of the soul, i e the spiritual weakness, which humans have but elementals, like merfolk, lack. Right as he cuts the shadow around one of his feet, the conflict is introduced when the deserted shadow begs for a heart:
He put her (the witch) from him and left her in the rank grass, and going to the edge of the mountain he placed the knife in his belt and began to climb down.
And his Soul that was within him called out to him and said, 'Lo! I have dwelt with thee for all these years, and have been thy servant. Send me not away from thee now, for what evil have I done thee?'
And the young Fisherman laughed. 'Thou hast done me no evil, but I have no need of thee,' he answered. 'The world is wide, and there is Heaven also, and Hell, and that dim twilight house that lies between. Go wherever thou wilt, but trouble me not, for my love is calling to me.'
And his Soul besought him piteously, but he heeded it not, but leapt from crag to crag, being sure-footed as a wild goat, and at last he reached the level ground and the yellow shore of the sea.
Bronze-limbed and well-knit, like a statue wrought by a Grecian, he stood on the sand with his back to the moon, and out of the foam came white arms that beckoned to him, and out of the waves rose dim forms that did him homage. Before him lay his shadow, which was the body of his soul, and behind him hung the moon in the honey-coloured air.
And his Soul said to him, 'If indeed thou must drive me from thee, send me not forth without a heart. The world is cruel, give me thy heart to take with me.'
He tossed his head and smiled. 'With what should I love my love if I gave thee my heart?' he cried.
'Nay, but be merciful,' said his Soul: 'give me thy heart, for the world is very cruel, and I am afraid.'
'My heart is my love's,' he answered, 'therefore tarry not, but get thee gone.'
'Should I not love also?' asked his Soul.
'Get thee gone, for I have no need of thee,' cried the young Fisherman, and he took the little knife with its handle of green snakeskin, and cut away his shadow from around his feet, and it rose up and stood before him, and looked at him, and it was even as himself.
He crept back, and thrust the knife into his belt, and a feeling of awe came over him. 'Get thee gone,' he murmured, 'and let me see thy face no more.'
'Nay, but we must meet again,' said the Soul. Its voice was low and flute-like, and its lips hardly moved while it spake.
'How shall we meet?' cried the young Fisherman. 'Thou wilt not follow me into the depths of the sea?'
'Once every year I will come to this place, and call to thee,' said the Soul. 'It may be that thou wilt have need of me.'
'What need should I have of thee?' cried the young Fisherman, 'but be it as thou wilt,' and he plunged into the waters and the Tritons (Merman watchmen) blew their horns and the little Mermaid rose up to meet him, and put her arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth.
And the Soul stood on the lonely beach and watched them. And when they had sunk down into the sea, it went weeping away over the marshes.
Once a year, the merman, driven by nostalgia, surfaces and meets his human former-emancipated-shadow, who tries to tempt him to return to terra firma and become one with him again. Third time's the charm as usual. Luring the merman-turned-once-more-fisherman back to land with a lie about a graceful ballerina, the shadow tempts him to wander from town to town (always saying "the ballerina is here" in each place when she actually isn't) and forcing him to commit a different crime in each and every community where they stop, ranging from theft of valuables through child abuse to murder. Pushed against his will (as if Imperiused), the fisherman is unable to resist... until push comes to shove, he refuses to murder those kindly innkeepers (simply knocking the master out and robbing the guesthouse) and confronts the shadow about the reason why:
And when they had gone a league away into the countryside, the young Fisherman beat his breast, and said to his Soul, 'Why didst thou bid me slay the merchant and take his gold? Surely thou art evil.'
But his Soul answered him, 'Be at peace, be at peace.'
'Nay,' cried the young Fisherman, 'I may not be at peace, for all that thou hast made me to do I hate. Thee also I hate, and I bid thee tell me wherefore thou hast wrought with me in this wise.'
And his Soul answered him, 'When thou didst send me forth into the world thou gavest me no heart, so I learned to do all these things and love them.'
'What sayest thou?' murmured the young Fisherman.
'Thou knowest,' answered his Soul, 'thou knowest it well. Hast thou forgotten that thou gavest me no heart? I trow not. And so trouble not thyself nor me, but be at peace, for there is no pain that thou shalt not give away, nor any pleasure that thou shalt not receive.'
And when the young Fisherman heard these words he trembled and said to his Soul, 'Nay, but thou art evil, and hast made me forget my love, and hast tempted me with temptations, and hast set my feet in the ways of sin.'
And his Soul answered him, 'Thou hast not forgotten that when thou didst send me forth into the world thou gavest me no heart. Come, let us go elsewhere, and make merry, for we have nine purses of gold.'
But the young Fisherman took the nine purses of gold, and flung them down, and trampled on them.
'Nay,' he cried, 'but I will have nought to do with thee, nor will I journey with thee anywhere, but even as I sent thee away before, so will I send thee away now, for thou hast wrought me no good.' And he turned his back to the moon, and with the little knife that had the handle of green snakeskin he strove to cut from his feet that shadow of the body which is the body of the Soul.
Yet his Soul stirred not from him, nor paid heed to his command, but said to him, 'The spell that the Witch told thee avails thee no more, for I may not leave thee, nor mayest thou drive me forth. Once in his life may a person send their Soul away, but the one who receiveth back their Soul must keep it with them for ever, and this is a punishment and a reward.'
And the young Fisherman grew pale and clenched his hands and cried, 'She was a false Witch in that she told me not that.'
'Nay,' answered his Soul, 'but she was true to the Darkness whom she worships, and whose servant she will be ever.'
And when the young Fisherman knew that he could no longer get rid of his Soul, and that it was an evil Soul and would abide with him always, he fell upon the ground weeping bitterly.
And when it was day the young Fisherman rose up and said to his Soul, 'I will bind my hands that I may not do thy bidding, and close my lips that I may not speak thy words, and I will return to the place where she whom I love has her dwelling. Even to the sea will I return, and to the little bay where she is wont to sing, and I will call to her and tell her the evil I have done and the evil thou hast wrought on me.'
And his Soul tempted him and said, 'Who is thy love, that thou shouldst return to her? The world has many fairer than she is. There are the dancing-girls of Samaris who dance, their feet are painted with henna, and in their hands they have little copper bells. They laugh while they dance, and their laughter is as clear as the laughter of water. Come with me and I will show them to thee. For what is this trouble of thine about the things of sin? Is that which is pleasant to eat not made for the eater? Is there poison in that which is sweet to drink? Trouble not thyself, but come with me. There is hard by a garden of tulip-trees. And there dwell in this comely garden white peacocks and peacocks that have blue breasts. Their tails when they spread them to the sun are like disks of ivory and like gilt disks. And she who feeds them dances for their pleasure, and sometimes she dances on her hands and at other times she dances with her feet. Her eyes are coloured with stibium, and her nostrils are shaped like the wings of a swallow. From a hook in one of her nostrils hangs a flower that is carved out of a pearl. She laughs while she dances, and the silver rings that are about her ankles tinkle like bells of silver. And so trouble not thyself any more, but come with me.' 
But the young Fisherman answered not his Soul, but closed his lips with the seal of silence and with a tight cord bound his hands, and journeyed back to the place from which he had come, even to the little bay where his love had been wont to sing. And ever did his Soul tempt him by the way, but he made it no answer, nor would he do any of the wickedness that it sought to make him to do, so great was the power of the love that was within him.
And when he had reached the shore of the sea, he loosed the cord from his hands, and took the seal of silence from his lips, and called to the little Mermaid. But she came not to his call, though he called to her all day long and besought her.
And his Soul mocked him and said, 'Surely thou hast but little joy out of thy love. Thou art as one who in time of death pours water into a broken vessel. Thou givest away what thou hast, and nought is given to thee in return. It were better for thee to come with me, for I know where the Valley of Pleasure lies, and what things are wrought there.'
But the young Fisherman answered not his Soul, but in a cleft of the rock he built himself a house of wattles, and abode there for the space of a year. And every morning he called to the Mermaid, and every noon he called to her again, and at night-time he spake her name. Yet never did she rise out of the sea to meet him, nor in any place of the sea could he find her though he sought for her in the caves and in the green water, in the pools of the tide and in the wells that are at the bottom of the deep.
And ever did his Soul tempt him with evil, and whisper of terrible things. Yet did it not prevail against him, so great was the power of his love.
And after the year was over, the Soul thought within himself, 'I have tempted my master with evil, and his love is stronger than I am. I will tempt him now with good, and it may be that he will come with me.'
So he spake to the young Fisherman and said, 'I have told thee of the joy of the world, and thou hast turned a deaf ear to me. Suffer me now to tell thee of the world's pain, and it may be that thou wilt hearken. For of a truth pain is the Lord of this world, nor is there any one who escapes from its net. There be some who lack raiment, and others who lack bread. There be widows who sit in silks, and widows who sit in rags. To and fro over the fens go the lepers, and they are cruel to each other. The beggars go up and down on the highways, and their wallets are empty. Through the streets walks Famine, and the Plague sits at the gates. Come, let us go forth and mend these things, and make them not to be. Wherefore shouldst thou tarry here calling to thy love, seeing she comes not to thy call? And what is love, that thou shouldst set this high store upon it?' But the young Fisherman answered it nought, so great was the power of his love. And every morning he called to the Mermaid, and every noon he called to her again, and at night-time he spake her name. Yet never did she rise out of the sea to meet him, nor in any place of the sea could he find her, though he sought for her in the rivers of the sea, and in the valleys that are under the waves, in the sea that the night makes purple, and in the sea that the dawn leaves grey.
The ending is a bittersweet, cathartic one indeed:
And after the second year was over, the Soul said to the young Fisherman at night-time, and as he sat in the wattled house alone, 'Lo! now I have tempted thee with evil, and I have tempted thee with good, and thy love is stronger than I am. Wherefore will I tempt thee no longer, but I pray thee to suffer me to enter thy heart, that I may be one with thee even as before.'
'Surely thou mayest enter,' said the young Fisherman, 'for in the days when with no heart thou didst go through the world thou must have much suffered.'
'Alas!' cried his Soul, 'I can find no place of entrance, so compassed about with love is this heart of thine.'
'Yet I would that I could help thee,' said the young Fisherman.
And as he spake there came a great cry of mourning from the sea, even the cry that men hear when one of the Mer-folk is dead. And the young Fisherman leapt up, and left his wattled house, and ran down to the shore. And the black waves came hurrying to the shore, bearing with them a burden that was whiter than silver. White as the surf it was, and like a flower it tossed on the waves. And the surf took it from the waves, and the foam took it from the surf, and the shore received it, and lying at his feet the young Fisherman saw the body of the little Mermaid. Dead at his feet it was lying.
Weeping as one smitten with pain he flung himself down beside it, and he kissed the cold red of the mouth, and toyed with the wet amber of the hair. He flung himself down beside it on the sand, weeping as one trembling with joy, and in his brown arms he held it to his breast. Cold were the lips, yet he kissed them. Salt was the honey of the hair, yet he tasted it with a bitter joy. He kissed the closed eyelids, and the wild spray that lay upon their cups was less salt than his tears.
And to the dead thing he made confession. Into the shells of its ears he poured the harsh wine of his tale. He put the little hands round his neck, and with his fingers he touched the thin reed of the throat. Bitter, bitter was his joy, and full of strange gladness was his pain.
The black sea came nearer, and the white foam moaned like a leper. With white claws of foam the tide grabbled at the shore. From the palace of the Sea-King came the cry of mourning again, and far out upon the sea the great Tritons blew hoarsely upon their horns.
'Flee away,' said his Soul, 'for ever doth the tide come nigher, and if thou tarriest it will slay thee. Flee away, for I am afraid, seeing that thy heart is closed against me by reason of the greatness of thy love. Flee away to a place of safety. Surely thou wilt not send me without a heart into another world?'
But the young Fisherman listened not to his Soul, but called on the little Mermaid and said, 'Love is better than wisdom, and more precious than riches, and fairer than the feet of maidens. The fires cannot destroy it, nor can the waters quench it. I called on thee at dawn, and thou didst not come to my call. The moon heard thy name, yet hadst thou no heed of me. For evilly had I left thee, and to my own hurt had I wandered away. Yet ever did thy love abide with me, and ever was it strong, nor did aught prevail against it, though I have looked upon evil and looked upon good. And now that thou art dead, surely I will die with thee also.'
And his Soul besought him to depart, but he would not, so great was his love. And the tide came nearer, and sought to cover him with its waves, and when he knew that the end was at hand he kissed with mad lips the cold lips of the Mermaid, and the heart that was within him brake. And as through the fulness of his love his heart did break, the Soul found an entrance and entered in, and was one with him even as before. And the sea covered the young Fisherman with its waves.
And in the morning the Priest went forth to bless the sea, for it had been troubled. And with him went the monks and the musicians, and the candle-bearers, and the swingers of censers, and a great company.
And when the Priest reached the shore he saw the young Fisherman lying drowned in the surf, and clasped in his arms was the body of the little Mermaid. And he drew back frowning, and having made the sign of the cross, he cried aloud and said, 'I will not bless the sea nor anything that is in it. Accursed be the Mer-folk, and accursed be all they who traffic with them. And as for him who for love's sake forsook God, and so lieth here with his leman slain by God's judgment, take up his body and the body of his leman, and bury them in the corner of the Field of the Fullers, and set no mark above them, nor sign of any kind, that none may know the place of their resting. For accursed were they in their lives, and accursed shall they be in their deaths also.'
And the people did as he commanded them, and in the corner of the Field of the Fullers, where no sweet herbs grew, they dug a deep pit, and laid the dead things within it.
And when the third year was over, and on a day that was a holy day, the Priest went up to the chapel, that he might show to the people the wounds of the Lord, and speak to them about the Wrath of God.
And when he had robed himself with his robes, and entered in and bowed himself before the altar, he saw that the altar was covered with strange flowers that never had been seen before. Strange were they to look at, and of curious beauty, and their beauty troubled him, and their odour was sweet in his nostrils. And he felt glad, and understood not why he was glad.
And after that he had opened the tabernacle, and incensed the monstrance that was in it, and shown the fair wafer to the people, and hid it again behind the veil of veils, he began to speak to the people, desiring to speak to them of the Wrath of God. But the beauty of the white flowers troubled him, and their odour was sweet in his nostrils, and there came another word into his lips, and he spake not of the Wrath of God, but of the God whose name is Love. And why he so spake, he knew not.
And when he had finished his word the people wept, and the Priest went back to the sacristy, and his eyes were full of tears. And the deacons came in and began to unrobe him, and took from him the alb and the girdle, the maniple and the stole. And he stood as one in a dream.
And after that they had unrobed him, he looked at them and said, 'What are the flowers that stand on the altar, and whence do they come?'
And they answered him, 'What flowers they are we cannot tell, but they come from the corner of the Fullers' Field.' And the Priest trembled, and returned to his own house and prayed.
And in the morning, while it was still dawn, he went forth with the monks and the musicians, and the candle-bearers and the swingers of censers, and a great company, and came to the shore of the sea, and blessed the sea, and all the wild things that are in it. The Fauns also he blessed, and the little things that dance in the woodlands, and the bright-eyed things that peer through the leaves. All the things in this world he blessed, and the people were filled with joy and wonder. Yet never again in the corner of the Fullers' Field grew flowers of any kind, but the field remained barren even as before. Nor came the Mer-folk into the bay as they had been wont to do, for they went to another part of the sea.
The soul-shadow, lacking a heart and left alone in an unfair and hostile world where the fittest survive, becomes evil. To become a merperson (or a drakharin, or a troll, or a sylph as well, I guess), one has to transcend human weakness. Which actually makes us mortal humans grow, and thus, surpass elementals and other species of High Men and Women (vampires, elves...), which are left stagnant in all their perfection.
In the end, though buried outside sacred ground, their love causes the barren field on which the star-crossed lovers were earthed to blossom into flowers that intoxicate and appease the stern priest who had been so intolerant towards supernatural beings, causing him to bless them instead.
This is the end-result of the dialectic between the fisherman and his shadow, and the victory of the former's optimism over the latter's cynicism:
'For of a truth pain is the Lord of this world, nor is there any one who escapes from its net. There be some who lack raiment, and others who lack bread. There be widows who sit in silks, and widows who sit in rags. To and fro over the fens go the lepers, and they are cruel to each other. The beggars go up and down on the highways, and their wallets are empty. Through the streets walks Famine, and the Plague sits at the gates. Come, let us go forth and mend these things, and make them not to be. And what is love, that thou shouldst set this high store upon it?' 

'Love is better than wisdom, and more precious than riches, and fairer than the feet of maidens. The fires cannot destroy it, nor can the waters quench it. I called on thee at dawn, and thou didst not come to my call. The moon heard thy name, yet hadst thou no heed of me. For evilly had I left thee, and to my own hurt had I wandered away. Yet ever did thy love abide with me, and ever was it strong, nor did aught prevail against it, though I have looked upon evil and looked upon good. And now that thou art dead, surely I will die with thee also.'



 
This is essentially the dialectic of Elysio vs. the Precures. Margaret Gatty also discusses this theme, of optimism as an antidote to nihilism and Well-Intentioned Extremism, in her parable The Voices of the Earth:
"Not the breath of the dying only overwhelms me with this wild desire to be at rest. The breath of the living who suffer on is even worse. The sigh of natural grief, which none can blame; the moanings of the afflicted in mind, body, or estate; the outcries of the oppressed and desperate; the shrieks of madness and of pain, the groanings of despair; all, all are outpoured on me! Those dreadful voices haunt me from all sides. This mass of human woe corrodes my soul. I meet it in the cottage, and pass through to find it in the palace; I rush from the battlefield to the cloister, but in vain! for no seclusion can shut out man or woman from sorrow."
"What, if amidst the mortal agony of the righteous, the triumph-songs of faith grow loud, wouldst thou not fear to take away the one, lest the other perchance should fail from off the earth?

The peaceful respirations of health, unnoticed and, alas! how often unthankfully enjoyed through years, count them if thou canst! Count them as they float to thee, while the night hours pass over the sleeper's head: count them when he wakes with the young daylight to a fresh existence. Count the laughs of frolic childhood. Count the murmurs of happy love. Count the stars if thou wilt, but thou canst never count the daily outpourings of common earthly joys. Alas for those who judge of life only by startling periods, and are deaf to the still small voices, which tell of hourly mercies, hour by hour!"

That's a powerful moral lesson indeed!



The girls tried everything-ever physical attacks (Finally!) but Elysio was too strong. He created a giant cake to crash into the town and the girls combined their powers to push it back. As the two forces collided, kirakiraru energy started to spread throughout the town and restoring everyone's memories.
The townspeople also began to cheer for the girls and eventually drove Elysio out of the stratosphere. Elysio was weaken but not defeated, pulled out his last trick-Creating a black hole and sucked the entire Earth into his body.
Elysio's body floated aimlessly in space as the girls are trapped in bubbles. They saw their loved ones and the townspeople were being absorbed into the black hole. However the Elder appeared and since he has no physical body, he is not affected and created enough kirakiraru energy to free the girls.
The girls realised the people were turned into Kiraru energy but the people encourage the girls not to give up. Everyone offered their kirakiraru energy to the girls to break free however it is not enough. They spotted Elysio who is also trapped in his own bubble and is preparing to accept his fate when they touch his bubble.
The girls saw how Elysio was created by Noir as his spawn and is responsible for corrupting Bilberry, Pikalio, and Glaive. Elysio has also seen humans' love and hatred which make him filled with contempt over the entire world.

The Cures Elysio's kirakiraru energy which is shaped like Lumière's cupcake and she told him that Noir and Lumière's kirakiraru energy created him and he too has a heart. Elysio was told that everybody's love is different but as long as we connect each other with sweets the world will smile together. Elysio offered his Kiraru energy and together with the whole world, the girls created the ultimate Planet Sweet and restore the world back.
As the girls fell back to Earth, Elysio admitted defeat and told the girls to make the world a better place. He then released Noir and Lumière from the cards and disappeared.
A giant cake was seen on top of their Pâtisserie which the girls made earlier and she gave a big blow to the candles before they landed on the ground. In the pâtisserie were all the good people of Ichigozaka, Back for the Finale and All Together Now...!
What a final battle! What a twist, Elysio threw his last tantrum and sucked the whole freaking Earth into his body.
Elysio's motives are not really wrong since it is a reflection of our current society, of why wars and conflicts happened in the first place. Which is because of love and hate. Elysio's ideal of making a world without conflict might be realistic; however without any emotions, everything will halt to a standstill.
Of course he was convinced that everyone's tastes and ideals are different, but that what's makes the world special and unique. Of course, with some sweets, everyone can stand up with a smile.




IN NEXT EPISODE (49)
So the final battle is over as the girls prepare their next step in life. However we have one more extra boss to battle and it is Elder!? Will Himari become a sweet scientist? Will Aoi get her singing career? Will Akira and Yukari finally make out? Will Ciel make that perfect sweet?

Next week, we shall find out what the show's finale has in store...

One more week...

One more wait...

ONE... END... MORE!!