Can You Watch Gundam AGE Without the First Half?

As the final part of the generation-themed Gundam AGE begins, I’m reminded of the “Machete Order,” a way of watching the Star Wars movies which supposedly introduces all of its elements in the best ways while cutting away some of the excess. Specifically, “excess” means “Episode 1,” as the entire adventures of a very young Anakin were deemed unnecessary and even perhaps detrimental to enjoyment. While I don’t think any of the parts of Gundam AGE are awful, it does make me wonder if it’s actually possible to watch the third and fourth Gundam AGE arcs without having watched the prior two.

While it would be sad to lose characters like Woolf and young Emily, I feel like the third part introduces you enough to the returning characters that someone who got into the show right at that point wouldn’t take long to fully grasp the story, and perhaps because the ratings were so low they actually made it with this in mind. While you don’t get to see Flit go from idealistic young boy to supportive but crotchety old man, you also get to immediately see the differences between him, pirate Asemu, and noble Kio. Obviously as someone who’s already watched the previous parts I can’t simply use my own experience to judge the effectiveness of omitting the earlier parts, at least not without much scrutiny and testing on willing subjects, but I would be interested in hearing thoughts on this matter.

Telling Someone to Grow Up is a Bad Argument

I recently read this post by Fast Karate’s Dave where he takes a game journalist to task for some blanket statements the guy made in regards to ideas like political correctness and freedom of speech. Dave makes good points about how these terms are abused to try and create the image of some noodle-armed over-sensitive people who can’t handle the truth. However, I find he also does something which can spoil the effectiveness of his arguments tremendously, which is that his conclusion simply amounts to telling the journalist (and others) to essentially “grow up.”

That article is not the first time I’ve seen this approach, and nor will it probably be the last, but I have to say that there is something problematic about structuring  well-reasoned arguments with a lot of good points to consider, particularly regarding topics such as the portrayal of sex and gender in media, and then just ending it with a simple demand to grow up, man up, get some common sense, or any other number of variations.

Certainly, as people mature they generally become wiser and may realize some of the arguments they made in the past were built on narrow perspectives or naive assumptions. However, the demand to grow up pushes the debate away from having points of discussion where people explain their sides and why they think it’s important that the other be convinced of their points, and into this vague space where certain intangibles are tacitly understood, as if to say that the point being made is so obvious if only you would catch up to the social norms which govern these interactions. Again, that’s not to say that the arguments preceding that jump couldn’t be perfectly cogent and even just outright correct, but if the idea at hand is so obvious that all it takes is for a person to “grow up” then the debate probably wouldn’t be happening in the first place.

I feel like if we can avoid narrowing the discussion to an argument against the other side’s immaturity then there wouldn’t be quite as much backlash.

“Government-approved” “Cool” “Japan”

I was thinking a little about the concept of “Cool Japan,” and why the idea has lost traction among various levels of fans and critics. One argument I hear occasionally is how, at the end of the day, people cosplaying and running around at conventions doesn’t give an image of “cool” or “cutting edge” but an image of regression or perhaps even immaturity. Essentially, people overestimated how “cool” Japan actually is. I don’t know how much this is really the case.

Another side is the way that Cool Japan was essentially government-backed. The idea of it was to use the media/fashion/image of Japan as “soft power” to influence the world. The problem, as far as I see it (and I think I’ve read similar arguments elsewhere), is that one of manga’s oft-touted strengths is its variety in terms of genres, ideas, philosophies, demographics, and even art styles. However, when it is being used by the Japanese government as one of its public faces, the manga and anime pushed out by the government becomes tacitly “government-approved.” If something is government-approved to be an image of the nation, then there is little chance that any government would willingly let their country’s image be tarnished by specific titles.

Essentially, what I’m thinking is that Cool Japan as a government-backed endeavor to some extent has to necessarily work against manga and anime as mediums of variety. I think the difference is between having something “government-approved” and “government-allowed.”

But I’m sure this topic has been talked to death. Probably at Neojaponisme.

Onwards to Joyo Literacy

In an effort to try and finally plug up the gaping holes in my Japanese literacy, I bought JLPT1-level kanji flash cards, i.e. the ones that should put me at official Japanese literacy. I’d gotten a ton of mileage out of my JLPT2 cards, even passing the exam in the process, so I know they do the trick. Right now I’m prioritizing reading over writing, so issues of being able to recognize but not replicate aren’t quite as big a deal for me.

One thing I’ve learned is that it’s difficult to just memorize a kanji flash card. The ones I use, from White Rabbit Press, have all sorts of useful details on them. They have pronunciations (even more obscure ones), they have multiple examples of usage, and of course a picture of the kanji itself. The potential trouble lies in the fact that, not only are there varying pronunciations depending on whether the characters are being used in compounds or along with hiragana, but in many cases words will have very abstract and sometimes even contradictory meanings just from centuries of history and its influence on the language. The kanji 唐 (pronounced “tou” and “kara”) originally referred to China’s Tang Dynasty, but it can even refer to China itself or Arabic or just mean “foreign” in general.

Reading the characters in isolation also only helps so much, as you mainly encounter them in compounds and in sentences. As a result, I find that it’s more important to introduce myself to the kanji just to get their images in my head, and then to read as much as I can (manga counts!) in order to just get accustomed to recognizing them in the middle of a sentence or on a sign. One problem, of course, is that my reading material and the kanji I’m studying are not part of a greater package so I can’t just study some words and then read the relevant article which tests those abilities.

This is actually why textbooks and workbooks and especially a solid curriculum in a structured class can be so helpful. It immediately sees if you actually know what you just learned. Alas, I have no such materials to work with, but for now I’m content with what I have. Even if I don’t end up absolutely mastering these kanji, I know I’ll at the very least be in a position to improve.

PS: I know Joyo is being replaced, I just forget what the new one is called.

Taking Small Steps and Huddling Over Scraps

When I originally wrote about Tropes vs. Women in Video Games, a video series which plans to explore the treatment of women in the medium, I expressed my concern that the creator Anita Sarkeesian might potentially cast aside more subtly positive portrayals of women in video games because they might still be significantly flawed. “If a medium is sexist in certain ways,” I thought, “then progress has to come in not only big steps but also small ones.” However, after reading this article about the Pixar movie Brave (warning: spoilers, though I do recommend reading it) in which the author Lili Loufbourow describes growing up with film and essentially forcing herself to deeply cherish even the most remotely positive portrayals of women in a medium which often forces them into a very limited number of character types, I find myself somewhat re-evaluating my thoughts on these matters.

Critical theorist Theodor Adorno writes about how mass culture, that is to say popular culture created by modern industry and capitalism, has a tendency to take any sort of radical idea or value and simply transform it into something palatable for the masses until its progressive value is swallowed up. I deeply disagree with Adorno in this regard for a number of reasons, namely his disregard for small steps within the area of mass culture. I still believe that it is important to look at examples of mixed results, cases where movement forward might come with a couple of steps back, and to just pay attention to places where progress is not measured solely by overall success. This is the reason why, when I write about the portrayal of women in anime and manga, I think it’s important to not just label things as “sexist” and call it a day.

His view brings some important questions to mind, however. Enlarging the sphere of discussion from sexism/feminism to the greater topic of progress itself, I have to ask myself, what is the difference between “taking a small step forward”and “huddling over scraps?” Is there a difference? Does one turn into the other when filtered through the lens of personal imagination and the changing values of a society?

My immediate feeling is that there must be a difference between taking a small step and huddling over scraps, and that the boundaries between the two are not so rigidly defined given history and context, but just the idea that the two can be conflated makes it somewhat dangerous. For that reason I now recognize that Sarkeesian and Loufbourow are essentially fighting against the same opponent, the “good enoughs” of female portrayal that pay only lipservice at best and are actually subtly regressive at worst, and that for Sarkeesian this dictates her tendency towards hard, powerful language in her videos. When subtlety is utilized, there is always the risk that it will be overlooked to such an extent that any messages given will be overwhelmed by the greater whole, or at least be perceived as such. While I prefer to try and work with the nuances myself, I have to recognize the potential pitfalls of that approach as well.

Reviving the Mahjong Panel

Otakon 2012 marks the return of the Japanese Mahjong panel, run by myself and Kawaiikochans creator Dave. It was a surprise hit back in 2010, and we’re so looking forward to bringing it back. What I’m about to talk about is related to some of the challenges we’ve faced in updating the panel.

Mahjong is a rather complicated (some might even say convoluted) game, and when we originally set out to do the mahjong panel we tried to make it as simple as we could while still covering just what makes mahjong (and by extension mahjong anime) fun. Naturally feeling a bit rusty with the material, we devoted some time to practicing the panel only to realize that there was a significant problem we did not have to deal with two years ago: we have both gotten significantly better at mahjong.

Mahjong is a game where subtle changes to the rules and even to the character and level of your opponents can impact the game tremendously. Playing multiple games to improve ladder ranking is a different beast from playing one or two significant games. When I attended the United States Professional Mahjong League in June, I had not played against flesh-and-blood opponents in over a year. Not only did I have to get used to the tiles again, but while I had definitely improved through playing online on Tenhou continuously (a process which forced me to constantly re-evaluate my play), I had become accustomed to that ruleset. So, for example, when I went into a game expecting it to last a full 8 round and began playing for the long term) I was sidelined by the fact that the UPSML games had a (necessary) time limit such that any round you were playing could be your last.

Though I was certainly thrown off by these unfamiliar rules, I was able to adapt reasonably well. It is the ability to recognize how those changes can potentially affect strategy that, at least for me, is an indicator of personal improvement.  However, it is that very same ability which can trip up an introductory mahjong panel.

When we were relatively inexperienced, we could deliver ideas with simplicity because the exceptions did not immediately spring to mind. Now, the danger was that our heads were too full of minutia. We knew where our statements fell short, and in an effort to correct them we continued to give explanations, but much like how the USPML’s time limit necessitates a different strategy, so too does the hour time limit for the panel.

The pursuit and refinement of knowledge in a given topic is actually what trips up so many intellectual presentations, whether the audience consists of professors or anime fans. The presenter has spent so much time exploring the limits of ideas and where their exceptions lie that it becomes difficult to “lie” to your audience, especially when improvement in your area (such as mahjong) is your main focus.

I think that the lesson to take away here is that we were so caught up in trying to teach strategy we’d learned that we had forgotten that before you learn how to play well, you have to teach how to play, period. And because our panel isn’t even about learning how to play, per se, we have to take that one notch down.

The Fujoshi Files 49: Yuria

Name: Yuria (ユリア)
Alias:
N/A
Relationship Status: Dating
Origin: Hanjuku “fu” joshi

Information:
Yuria is a student at an all girls’ high school who begins a relationship with an older fujoshi artist named Chie. Prior to showing her feelings to Chie, Yuria was already a fan of her work as “Kai Muryuu.”

Though Yuria has an interest in both yaoi, she does not appear to have an interest in men. However, the fact that she is a fan of yuri involving significant age gaps between the two partners may mean that her fandom in that area does influence her human relationships.

Fujoshi Level:
Yuria is fujoshi enough to have particular favorite BL artists and the like.

The Fandom of Plenty, the Fandom of Scarcity

In a previous post, I discussed what I believed to be one of the properties of moe as an industry to garner a fanbase: constant output of purchasable material to reinforce those feelings of devotion obsession. In this sense, moe can be thought of as a kind of “fandom of plenty,” a fandom whose existence is actively supported by an abundance of material easily obtained. Anime fandom in the United States over the past ten years has been characterized as such, where it’s so incredibly easy to watch a show and to move on to the next one without looking back that it becomes somewhat difficult to find something not to watch.

In contrast to the “fandom of plenty,” then, might be the  “fandom of scarcity.” The image of the anime fandom of yesteryear, from the tape-trading era and back, is one where each episode, each scrap of merchandise was so precious that being a fan was not only about watching as much as you can, but also about the lengths you’d go to in order to obtain that material, as well as the degree to which those small bits of treasure could be explored and scrutinized.

When I compare my experiences in both the former and the latter, I have to wonder to what extent it changes my own experiences as a fan. I am both the person who found Spring 2012 season to have so many worthwhile shows that I had to place some on the backburner in the hopes that I could reach them later, as well as the person who watched his VHS tape of some episodes of the middle of Nadesico over and over again just because there was nothing else quite like it for me. Are these ideas of abundance and rarity simply in the mind of the beholder? Certain the level of access I had in that Nadesico era was much greater than many, but it still felt like every tape was precious.

I also have to wonder to what extent these environments shape fandom itself. Just how much does scarcity shape an unofficial canonical list of works among fans? Is it possible for another Voltron, that is to say a show which was largely unremarkable in Japan which is considered seminal abroad, to exist? What shows would’ve been more popular and beloved had they not been shoved by the torrential downpour of a season of anime? How do these different environments influence what we value and why?

How Much Does “Japanese-ness” Matter to Anime and Manga Fans?

The stereotypical image of the non-Japanese anime fan is someone who is in love with Japan. He goes by many names, mostly given by others but also self-referenced: otaku, wapanese, japanophile, weeaboo. This anime fan believes that at least part of what makes anime great is that it comes from Japan, and this imbues a certain degree of specialness or at least difference to it.

But I have to wonder, just how much is it even true that Japanese-ness is that vital component for so many anime and manga fans?

This is not to say that it definitely does not matter for people or that at the end of the day fans are better off judging things from some imagined objective stance of mighty neutrality, but rather is just me asking about where that desire for Japan may or may not exist.

Let’s talk about fans of dub voice actors, the kind who line up to get their autographs every time they appear at a convention and who vastly prefer them over their original Japanese counterparts. You can say something about how those are the voices they’re familiar with, and that they were exposed to those voices through a more accessible medium like television, but what I think is that, at the end of the day, even if Japanese-ness might be present in other areas of the anime they like, be it the character designs or the settings of the stories, “Japanese-ness of speech” itself is not as much of a factor. Having the comprehensibility and perhaps even understanding of nuance of English (or whatever language) is more important than having the characters speaking in Japanese.

Once I attended a cherry blossom festival in New York, where I saw a black girl dressed in a kimono. If it wasn’t clear that she was an anime fan, she was also surrounded by friends cosplaying Naruto characters. What was interesting about the way she wore her kimono though was that it clearly wasn’t the correct way to put one on nor the correct way to walk in one but it was obvious that she didn’t care. I got the impression that even if she knew, it wouldn’t really have mattered. While the coolness and I would even dare to say the Japanese-ness of the kimono itself was important, it was also important for her to assert her own attitude, to conform the kimono to herself rather than the other way around.

A simple hypothesis would be that a fan prefers just enough Japanese-ness for their anime and manga to seem special or different, but not so much that it becomes utterly alien or unapproachable. However, I think that would be a flawed statement for a number of reasons. First, an appeal of Japanese-ness might not necessarily equate to exoticism or Orientalism (though in many cases it probably would), and second, there is a dynamic of what people do and don’t want to be, how much they expect things to conform to their own values rather than the other way around, and so “alien” for some may be preferable. Maybe I’ll think of something better eventually.

Family Re- Union, Go! Aquarion Evol… Review Podcast!!

I was a guest recently over at the The Veef Show, where its illustrious host VF5SS and I reviewed Aquarion Evol.

Just as a warning, the podcast is super spoilery with little to no warning, and we sometimes go off on odd tangents.

Have a listen.