One of the more underrated aspects of Steven Universe is its understanding of pacing. We returned from an unbearably long hiatus last week with a huge bang—the two most perilous episodes since the Crystal Gems were taken captive aboard Jasper’s Homeworld ship in “Jailbreak”—and with that threat out of the way, it looks like we’re in for another lovely stretch of character development. Peridot got her redemption over the course of Season 2; Season 3 seems likely to showcase Lapis Lazuli’s development from a scared, mistrustful, millennia-long captive into (hopefully) a full-fledged Crystal Gem. That should take long enough for the next big plot-moving episodes to hit hard.
Now, let’s get into the major themes we witnessed in “Same Old World”:
You Can Mercilessly Mock The Earth And Still Love It
“You’d like it in Jersey. The people here seem to hate the earth, too.”
We know from past episodes (namely, the map in “It Could’ve Been Great”) that the Steven version of Earth is not our own. But in “Same Old World,” we got closer to a depiction of our actual planet than we have to date, and it was hilarious. New Jersey takes a lot of crap from the American public at large, but I would never have expected this show to throw such shady shade at the Garden State. This was the hardest I’ve ever laughed at Steven Universe—I actually paused the episode, went back, and watched the Jersey joke at least three more times before I could keep it together. And that came after the Crewniverse smacked down every stock millennial sitcom as Steven and Lapis flew over the New York/Las Vegas hybrid of Empire City. (For the record, I would totally watch a full-on Girls parody with Lapis, Peridot, Pearl and Amethyst. Garnet would be the one tangential friend who has her shit together.)
But there was a purpose to the show’s ripping on New Jersey, just as there was a purpose to the rest of Steven and Lapis’ Aladdin-and-Jasmine-esque trip past Empire City, through the forest, above the clouds, and over the ocean. Steven Universe is committed to loving Earth not only in spite of its flaws, but for them—and showcasing the myriad beauties of this planet alongside its smoggy, disgusting armpit serves as a way to present life on Earth as a package deal: take the whole thing as it is, because it’s the best of all possible worlds. In a way, this view of humanity and the world redeems New Jersey’s very existence, if only for the sheer sake of variety: you can choose to hate life, and that’s fine for the very reason that you’re able to choose to do so.
Steven even mentions to Lapis that she’d do well in Jersey because they despise Earth as much as she does—the important thing is that she’d be choosing an existence on Earth, rather than resigning herself to the idea of Earth as a prison. And that’s the transformation through which Lapis is going to have to go: making meaning out of millennia of suffering.
Lapis’ Struggle With Freedom
“I know you can’t go back to Homeworld, but if you stay here, it’ll be your choice to stay here,” Steven tells Lapis after they return from their nighttime jaunt. For Lapis, the very thought of making a choice is revolutionary. The majority of her existence has been defined by imprisonment, figurative or literal. First, she was trapped on Earth in the midst of the Crystal Gem rebellion. Then, she was trapped in her mirror, first by the Homeworld Gems and then, after being cracked, by the Crystal Gems themselves. We know that after Steven freed and healed her, Lapis’ return to Homeworld was incredibly unpleasant—she was forced to become an informant—and then she was trapped in a toxic fusion with Jasper for months. Now, she’s finally free, but to Lapis at this point, being on Earth doesn’t mean freedom: it means further bondage. Watching her break down at the Galaxy Warp as she recounts her story to Steven, whom she had almost dropped in a terrifying moment of psychosis, shows us just how damaged her psyche is, and how long it might take for hope and fulfillment to become engendered within her.
Comparing cartoons to existentialist philosophy often feels lazy and trite, but here I think it’s worthwhile to think of Lapis’ struggle in those terms. Watching her grapple with her horrifying, meaningless past reminded me of the writings of Viktor Frankl, a psychiatrist known for inventing “logotherapy.” The essence of logotherapy depends on a subject’s ability to create meaning out of suffering, constantly and consciously choosing life over death because life can be made inherently meaningful. Frankl developed his ideas as a prisoner at various Nazi concentration camps during World War II; the man wouldn’t have survived to create logotherapy if he hadn’t lived out his values.
The choice that Lapis is being offered on Earth is one of meaning: either she can choose to establish a fulfilling existence here, willing a new life for herself despite technically being stuck on this planet, or she can continue to suffer without any attempt at creating some new purpose. It’s going to be a challenge for her—we don’t really know enough about her motives yet to determine what she’ll want to do, and the possibility of her directionless-ness could draw her into the anguish that comes when humans realize they’re “condemned to be free.” But with Lapis seemingly here to stay, that’s the process we’re undoubtedly going to watch unfold over the next portion of the Steven Universe story. And luckily for her, it seems like Steven has a natural proclivity for logotherapy.