[The following material from <http://www.ex.org/4.3/36-manga_versailles.html>]

Hailing from 1972 - 1973 and the relatively less popular realm of girls' (shoujo) manga, with a plot centered far from Japan and hundreds of years in the past, this series nevertheless spawned an animated series, a movie and even a play. Featuring breathtakingly beautiful art, gorgeously flowing Japanese prose, passionate romance, intricate intrigue, action, adventure and, to top it off, forays into the issues of freedom, liberty and equality, this could be none other than Ikeda Ryoko's BERUSAIYU NO BARA, THE ROSE OF VERSAILLES (also known as LADY OSCAR to some).

For all its renown and strengths, there is no doubt this series (affectionately called BERUBARA by some fans) has its idiosyncrasies. It was written for a female audience that was not too particular about historic accuracy—and not just in regards to the highly exaggerated glamour and romance of Ikeda's Versailles. The premise a girl could be raised to become a palace guard in 18th century France requires quite a suspension of disbelief, even though it is a central theme of the story. Also, the earlier stories of the series lack the artistic detail and intricacy of later episodes, and the plots sometimes seem more focused on petty intrigue than earth-shaking drama. However, like any powerful work of art, BERUBARA easily transcends these drawbacks. Indeed, the humble beginnings make the blossoming power of the story even more accessible and understandable.

Our story begins in pre-Revolution France, during the reign of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. Marie Antoinette herself takes up the early leading role, as a young, mischievous, fun-loving and strong-willed Austrian girl who is wed too early to a dull and weak-willed French prince—a very poor match. But the true heroine, Ikeda's now-famous fictitious leading lady, soon takes center stage. This is Oscar Jarjayes, a noblewoman raised as a man.

Oscar quickly becomes Marie Antoinette's friend and bodyguard, and a few adventures of court intrigue and politics connect the two women. But Marie Antoinette's destiny is sealed by history. Confined to the monarchy, she must, as appealing and refreshing as she is at first, gradually become the proud but hardened queen. Oscar, however, is free, both as a fictitious character and as a "nobleman," to show us other aspects of the stage—the complex French backdrop where she explores what it means to be noble versus common, rich versus poor, a woman versus a man.

It is Oscar who ventures out into Paris and sees the poverty of its streets, who befriends a poor but noble girl (Rosalie), who hears the whisperings in the Palace and tries to warn Antoinette. It is, however, Antoinette who first teaches Oscar that a heart wrapped up in the shallowness of mere work and duty cannot understand the depth of human feeling.
Unfortunately, Antoinette soon becomes caught up in her own feelings of loneliness and unhappiness and her longings for true love. In contrast, Oscar gradually awakens to the universality of human physical, emotional and spiritual needs. As the story continues, she comes to see the injustice of inequality based on nobility. She comes to learn how to love, how to let go of that love and how to trust. She also comes to see the barriers that pushed noblewomen into narrow lives with narrow interests and limited vision, and she, while embracing her own woman's heart, also forges out to seize all the advantages and insights her "man's position" in society affords her. Finally, taking her newfound convictions and infusing them with courage, she abandons safety and comfort by choosing to fight for the Revolution against everything a noblewoman is supposed to embrace.
Oscar, then, is a synthesis of human strivings, and a role model for breaking free of bounds and challenging what should have been a pre-destined life. Rejecting nobility, she sides with the commoner; rejecting both plain masculinity and a socially-limited form of femininity—she transforms them both into something new and vital. Rejecting privilege and comfort and dependence, she fights for the very right to fight for herself, to make her own decisions, to discover the truth for herself. And so it is fitting the most lasting image of Oscar is of a shining warrior upon a horse, challenging all that would imprison the human spirit.

Yet the story is not complete, not even after Oscar's death. If Oscar is the ideal, Marie Antoinette and those around her are the reality. Trapped in their rigid roles, strangely powerless against societal forces, unable to be who they really would like to be, they are pulled into the raging currents of history. Antoinette, long enslaved to loneliness, idleness and frivolity, awakens too late—and her attempts to protect her family wind up hurting and angering the commoners even more. Cruel fate plays its part, ruining an escape plan that might have saved them. Yet, in this story, Antoinette never loses her regal pride and dignity. It is a stubborn dignity that got her into political trouble as a girl, one that in fact saves her family when faced by an angry mob and one that stays with her to the very end, through the trial and the execution. Despite her deep regrets that she was not born an ordinary woman, Marie Antoinette seems somehow destined to have been born a queen, and to die a queen.

But was she a shallow and careless monarch who threw away opportunities and deserved what she got? Or was she a victim of circumstances beyond her control? Real history may well provide a different answer than this work of fiction, but we, as readers of this grand story, can see Marie Antoinette and the people around her as living, breathing, hoping, despairing human beings who did what they could with what they had.
Thus, while it might be easy to call BERUSAIYU NO BARA a piece of "historical fiction," or a romantic love story, or propaganda against gender inequality (this was, after all, published in a Japanese era not widely known for being egalitarian), it is perhaps all that and more—an exploration and celebration of the human spirit. Doubtless its influential call for liberty and equality is felt throughout Japan and, in fact, the world, through the lives of those who have been touched by it. It certainly changed this reviewer's life—who knows what it has done for others?

Here are some of the major characters of the series and some of the historic bases for them:

Oscar Francois Jarjayes
Though Oscar is fictitious, General de Jarjayes (her supposed father) was a real person. She makes an unforgettable character, as a tall, uniformed woman wielding a sword, long golden hair flowing in the wind.

General de Jarjayes
As stated above, a real person. He is a complex and intriguing character in the series, a man daring enough to raise his daughter as a son, but one firmly entrenched in the old system. He loves Oscar enough to try to marry her off into safety, but at first fails to admit how this would clip her wings—or perhaps he decided that safety was better for her than liberty. Proud of his devotion to the Throne, he nonetheless comes to respect Oscar enough to let her choose her own course, even though it is a course that runs counter to his own.

Andre Grandier
Fictitious. Oscar's commoner best friend, confidante and eventual lover. He plays an increasing role in the series, and provides a male perspective into a story largely dominated by a female point of view. We see him grapple with some of the issues Oscar faces, and also a few that she doesn't see. What does it mean to be a man deeply in love with a woman who outranks him in every way, a woman who, society says, is not allowed to stoop to his level? What does it mean to face a reality that says his love will probably be trampled to shreds by some nobleman with a "superior" claim? How can he protect the woman he loves when he is gradually going blind?

Marie Antoinette
A real person, daughter of the great Austrian Empress Maria Theresa. She wasn't quite the svelte, romanticized beauty of the manga, but what the heck. In the story, she is a woman destined to be a queen, yet who isn't happy as one—it seems that her inner unhappiness and consequent frivolity are some of the causes of her downfall.

Louis XVI
Obviously, a real person. He really did like tinkering with locks as a hobby, and was fond of physical labor. He is a pitiful figure in both the story and in history—a simple, childish, slow and blundering man ill-matched to his role, his wife and to the tragic, bloody end that befell him.

Hans Axel Fersen
A real person, he was a good-looking Swedish nobleman who (according to some scholarly sources) did become Antoinette's lover. His manly features in the manga apparently are different from a historic description, but again, what the heck. He was apparently also more of a womanizer than depicted in the series. His unhappy death is also real.

Rosalie Lamorliere
In real life she was the chambermaid for the imprisoned Queen, in the days before the execution. All the rest of her story is fictitious, such as her relation to the Comtesse de LaMotte-Valois. In the story, she plays a major role as the figure who most brings Oscar in contact with the sweetness, innocence and joy of life. Oscar calls Rosalie her "spring breeze."

Madame Du Barry
Again, a real person, and the favorite mistress of Louis XV. The tension between the future queen and Du Barry was also real.

Comtesse de LaMotte-Valois (Jeanne de Saint-Remy)
The person was real, and the Necklace Scandal really happened. However, her connection with Rosalie and so on is fiction.

Comtesse de Polignac
Another real person. Her portrayal as someone who took advantage of the Queen's favor is real; her relationship with Rosalie is not.