Narrow Scope vs Limited Involvement

The fact that I love looking at anime’s history should be no secret to anyone who’s kept up with this blog since its inception. I’ll watch shows new and old in a desire to understand better anime’s history. At some point I’ll spout facts about some show that aired 30 years ago and the effect it had on the industry and the fans, but then I’ll take a step back when I realize that as hard as I argue about the strength and influence of a show 30 years old, the fact that I was not alive 30 years ago means that my words lack personal involvement. I can watch Evangelion. I can read about how significant it is to Japan from the words of a Japanese person intimately familiar with it and its effects. And yet, I was not actually there.

“You had to be there” is a phrase which implies that the idea that hindsight or observation from the rails of history cannot accurately convey the totality of an experience. If someone posts a video of the Otakon 2008 JAM Project concert on Youtube, and doesn’t think much of it, I’d probably say the same thing. The problem here however is that when I’m deep inside the fandom, when I’m keeping up with shows as they come out and experiencing things firsthand, I feel it difficult to step back and simply observe. The classic example as it relates to me is that while I can talk about my experience living in Japan, I cannot talk about anything i did not do there. I can relate my personal feelings on a topic, having seen what I’ve seen first-hand, but the scope can seem narrow. Sure I can talk to friends and friends of friends and ask online about something going on right now, but it’s hard to get any indication of what’s actually going on.

And yet, when people talk about the anime of year’s past, the information seems most real when it is relied by the people who were knee-deep in it. Their words and stories are fueled by recollections of their own emotional involvement. At the same time, it’s difficult to actually get an accurate image. I guess it’s the task of those of us observing from afar to piece together various sources into something resembling a sensible answer. Still, I can’t help but feel that doing so detracts from the authenticity of my voice.

How does one argue about an anime from 30 years ago with a person who watched that show 30 years ago?

If Only We Could Become Fans of Moderation

Dave Merrill recently posted a survey and history of the seedy, unwashed, giant underbelly of anime fandom in the US. In it, he gives examples, taken from various anonymous contributers, of the people who are often referred to as “that person.” Each anecdote leads me to be grateful that I did not turn out to be the one to take others down through ill personality or whatever, but at the same time I find myself reflecting upon each description. I can see a bit of myself in pretty much every person described, but I also realize that it’s because of the fact that I can only see “a bit” of myself in them that makes all of the difference.

I can relate to the guy who carries his video game consoles with him to every meeting. I can see a person bringing his precious consoles along constantly, hoping for someone to say, “Wow, is that a Neo-Geo?” And then the person would gladly pull it out and a good time would be had by all, and they’d think that console-carrying guy is pretty swell. But then if console carrier never has the initiative to simply propose that they play some of his games, then he’ll still be waiting passively. When presented with someone like this, we’d probably say something like, “Get some confidence, chum.” Lack of confidence and drive is a hallmark of dorks everywhere, after all. It’s dangerous advice, however, when you consider the example of the guy who gives out his own Inspector Gadget porn to everyone.

Inspector Gadget Porn Distributor is what can happen when you tell someone with deep shame that it’s okay to be shameless, that it’s okay to be confident in what they do. The problem isn’t that he draws the images, it’s that it becomes the singular focus of his interaction with fellow anime fans. I believe that not only fans but people in general should not be defined by a singular purpose, as no person is that devoid of depth. And yet, are fans not defined by their obsessions, their ability to take things further than others? How far is too far? It’s a strange dilemma in that we have to learn to constantly set and then break our own limits.

I know that it sounds weird for the person who writes Ogiue Maniax, a blog with obsession in its very title, to be talking about things like tact and reservation, but I think it’s the combination of obsession/devotion and desire for variety in me that has brought me to this place. And while I don’t have the confidence to say that I have the patience or ability to help those fans who are truly in need of an awakening, what I can say is that I hope we can all help to moderate each other.

I Know All the Anime!

Yesterday while hanging out with friends in a game shop, I overheard someone who was probably 17 or 18 at the oldest say, “I know all the anime!” Then he mentioned Code Geass, and I didn’t really hear the rest.

I don’t know if he was putting on airs or actually believed he knew “all the anime,” but it made me remember an earlier time in my anime fandom, back when I was already familiar with internet forums but they still felt pretty new to me. There was a thread, I don’t remember what it was about, where I decided to list as many of the shows that I watched that I could remember. Eventually the list was large enough that I felt satisfied to post it, thinking it was a job well done. “I’ll show these guys just how much anime I’ve seen,” was probably my intention at the time. I distinctly remember listing Gundam Wing as “Gundam W,” and this was before W began airing on Cartoon Network. Just the idea that I could start listing shows and act like I had done more than scratch the surface of anime makes me realize how naive I was at the time.

Years later I signed up for a myanimelist.net account (check the second post on this blog), and tasking myself with jotting down all of the shows I’ve watched, I felt overwhelmed. Even with this very convenient website which remembers things for me, I lost the will to just record every show I watched.

So I don’t know who that kid is, but I hope he knows that if he truly wants to know “all the anime” that he has a long journey ahead of him.

It is our Genesis, it is our Exodus: Starblazers.com’s History of Yamato Fandom

Tim Eldred over at Starblazers.com has written a fascinating article about the history of the early Yamato fandom and by extension the history of the first true fandom in anime history. See what fans had to do before the concept of the anime fan even existed, and the steps taken to organize and even save the first of many productions that would be overshadowed by the might of eventual-Ghibli-director Miyazaki.

Yamato’s fandom even plays an integral role in the very first Comic Market, which is only a hint of the profound influence Yamato and its fans had on both sides of the anime industry.

It also sheds light on that Genshiken comic by Zetsubou-Sensei creator Kumeta Kouji depicting Ohno in various cosplay outfits at Comiket over the years. Her cosplay of Yuki from Yamato isn’t just early, it’s early.

Cause, Effect, Necessity? Sci-Fi Fandom and Early Anime Fandom

Anime World Order recently posted an interview with what are the self-proclaimed “old farts” of anime, and they rightly deserve the title. Hearing them speak, and thinking back to an earlier comment by others in previous shows, such as Joey Snackpants and Neil Nadelman, I had to wonder just how much this has affected the flow of anime fandom in the United States. Though I personally have found some issue with those sci-fi fans who lament the status of anime today because it is not “sci-fi enough,” I cannot help but feel that their influence is hard to deny.

I am certainly not old enough to have experienced any of that early anime fandom, but in listening to those that had been around there is one message repeats constantly: to be an anime fan required obsession. This was before the internet was established, before google and youtube and digital fansubs and wikipedia, so to find any sort of information required the ability to search and research and to find collaborators so as to increase one’s chances of obtaining anime and anime-related paraphernalia. I imagine that either you had to be somewhat extroverted or at least have an obsession so strong it overcame your fear of other people to accomplish this task. And what better place to find those with powerful obsessions than in an already-established fanbase?

For that matter, who better to pursue this difficult-to-obtain treasure from the isles of Japan than those who already had spent time discussing and analyzing technology in their favorite shows, writing fanzines to pursue and exchange ideas? With this many people with the ability to obsess grouped together, and more importantly able to obsess over fictional works on television and comics, two forms of media long thought juvenile or at least unintellectual, it might be no wonder that American anime fandom in its infancy sprang forth from sci-fi fandom.

Of course anime fandom today is also largely the result of arguably bigger influences in the years after. Sailor Moon, Dragon Ball Z, and Pokemon came on TV early in the morning and introduced both boys and girls to a serial story where actions in a previous episode are not reset in the next. They targeted a much wider audience than older anime had ever hoped to, and rather than having their native origins obfuscated where introduced as something from Japan. Still, I believe even this part of anime fandom is influenced by those sci-fi fans of yesterday. Slash, derived from the pairing of “Kirk/Spock,” may have allowed its foreign cousin Yaoi to get accustomed to traveling on western soil. Sci-fi conventions may have given pointers to the anime fandom when it became large enough on how to congregate with like-minded (enough) individuals. In that sense, perhaps the actions of sci-fi fans in the 70s and 80s became a template for today’s anime fandom, who have shaped it to their own experiences and will some day become the old guard to influence others.

The Active Pursuit of Anime and the Effects Thereof

Anime fans in the west have had a long history of actively seeking out their anime. Be it trading tapes, taking time out of your day specifically to go to anime clubs, figuring out the arcane secrets required to get shows off of irc, learning how to use bittorrent, or even searching on Youtube, there has always been the push to find more anime. There is a sort of mental devotion, however small, to finding new shows or finding more of a particular show, and I believe that just as much as it is a reflection of the hardcore fan’s mindset, it can also influence that mindset as well. It is both cause and effect.

When one downloads or otherwise looks for episodes of Pretty Cure, there’s some sort of labor involved, and from that labor it makes sense to want sufficient value in return, to (misappropriately) use some of Karl Marx’s terminology.  Thus, when that episode of Pretty Cure has no progress, when it feels like the last episode, disappointment occurs. Then you might think, “This show isn’t worth my time.” And it might not be. However, keep in mind that most anime in Japan is shown on TV, and the TV acts as a passive medium for most mainstream shows. Anime like Pretty Cure air on weekend mornings, so there’s no need for staying up late or setting a VCR or Tivo. It, like so many other shows, becomes simply a part of a weekly routine, something that can be enjoyed in addition to other activities by the viewer, such as eating breakfast.

It becomes a custom, like saying hi to your neighbor every morning (feel free to substitute neighbor with anyone else). Anyone who woke up for Saturday Morning Cartoons is probably familiar with this feeling. Sure, there are shows you like more than others, or would have to sacrifice one for the other if they aired at the same time on different channels, but the familiarity makes it less of a new shirt and more of a warm blanket.

Having started to watch Eureka Seven in Japan, I originally thought it was going to be a warm blanket, that Eureka Seven would be mostly episodic and carried on the characters’ strong personalities and their interactions. When I noticed those interactions causing permanent changes in those characters, I became more involved, and before long it started to become an active pursuit, where I would purposely go to sleep early on Saturdays to catch Eureka Seven early Sunday morning. I think this gradual shift from blanket to shirt is part of what made me so fond of the show.

I think some of the success (or lack thereof) of anime aired on TV in the US has very much to do with being situated in a way that makes them accessible to passive viewers. Dragon Ball Z and Gundam Wing aired at convenient, after-school time slots. Cowboy Bebop was on around midnight, when it’s late but not too late. Gundam SEED was saddled by a poor time slot that got progressively worse. Adult Swim seems to be pushing Code Geass off a cliff with a 5am time slot, and I think they are well aware of the active/passive fandom dichotomy that occurs. I mean, you could say that viewers should just set their vcr’s to record, but then that involves labor, and the viewer then pretty much has to be a fan.

And while it’s great to be an anime fan, not everyone who is a potential viewer or a potential fan starts off this way.

Fan-generated Fiction as some call it

I recently listened to the Ninja Consultant podcast concerning the sexualization that occurs among fangirls, and the fact that this has become more prominent in recent times, with not only yaoi becoming a common sight at conventions but also modern works such as Dr. Who and Avatar: The Last Airbender being consciously aware of this fanbase. The topic of fanfiction comes up in the discussion, which is to be expected given that fanfiction and fangirls practically go hand in hand, but it reminded me of the fact that at the beginning of my own internet-based fandom I too was into fanfiction.

When I first began using the internet, my first fandom was a NiGHTS into dreams fanfiction site. I loved the Sega Saturn game to death (and still do), and I sought out other fans of NiGHTS. It was there that I found a site called “Nightopia on the Net” which would later change its name a few more times. It was here that I not only discovered other people with a passion for NiGHTS, but also stories that expanded upon the few plot details we were given as players of the game into a rich and vibrant (at least in my young eyes) universe. I’ve never read the Star Wars Extended Universe books, but I suspect the feeling was similar to anyone who is a fan of those, a feeling that the world given to us in these initial stories is so vast and unexplored that one can’t help but wonder what else is out there.

At some point, a few years down the line, I read fanfiction less and less. By this point I had been checking out fanfiction from various sources based on all sorts of series and would even actively seek out more unusual titles and concepts. Something in me began to sour, and I could no longer take fanfiction until I almost stopped reading it entirely. Back then, my reasoning was that I disliked the stories being produced for my fandoms, feeling that more than any sort of technical errors the problem was that the writers did not understand the characters. The characters’ actual personalities as displayed in their respective shows were nothing like the personalities displayed in fanfiction, and I asked (no one), “What’s the point of using these characters if you’re not going to actually use them?”

As mentioned in the Ninja Consultant discussion, it seems as if some works these days are simply there as fan fodder. Characters are given basic traits which appeal to the “shipping” side of fandom, and fans are free to ignore or cultivate any “evidence” as to whether or not their “One True Pair” could thrive. Setting aside any original creators’ desires to actively engage this line of thought, by all rights these are the people who are responsible for me leaving fanfiction in the first place.

But really was I, and am I, all that different?

Why do people enjoy pairing unreasonable characters together? To put it simply, it’s because they find the pairing to be hot. No big mysteries there. It’s what makes the Zutara pairing in Avatar so popular: a conflict of emotions, the fire/water dynamic, the idea that “if only they would get together, they would be great.” Of course, the conflict comes from actually getting them together.

Is there something wrong with this? Wanting to dive deeper into a world, to prove through fanfiction that there is so much more to a story, one can say that trying to find deeper subtext in the relationships presented is its own form of exploration. Hell, I can somewhat relate to making unreasonable pairings. I have a rather straight-laced friend who I would like to see date girls that would be all over him 24/7. Why? Because it would entertain me to no end.

Perhaps there is a threshold, and it is crossed when fans begin to believe that their opinions constitute the truth about a work, or even what should be true. This isn’t about creator’s vision vs spectator’s vision or anything of that sort, but rather to what extent people and groups begin to believe their own hype. Other than that, I think people are free to believe in whatever they want.

Even then, such a statement borders on the idea that there’s such a thing as a “right” fan and a “wrong” fan, and really, even if I find certain fans or their reasoning distasteful, I am just one person and I am not a judge of fanfiction. More importantly, I am not a judge of the heart.

After all, as Sasahara once said to Ogiue, no one can stop you from liking something.

The Generation Gaps in Taste in Anime Fandom

While anime fandom in the United States is old enough that a literal generation gap is possible, though that is not quite what I mean by the term. When I say generation gap, I mean the difference between waves of fans that have appeared since anime first gained popularity back in the 70s. The biggest indicators of these gaps, I believe, are the statements that will give away how they feel about themselves relative to anime fandom, such as “all these new shows are terrible compared to older ones” and “I won’t watch any show if it looks too old.” But why is it that the fandom resorts to such statements about their interests and how they compare to different times in the life of this hobby?

Speak to an anime fan of any age, and ask them why and how they got into anime. Most likely, you will get an explanation of how the anime they first watched differed from whatever else was on tv. I will give you my own example. While I watched Voltron and other such shows as a kid, I first discovered anime as coming from Japan in the form of bootleg Dragon Ball Z tapes a few years prior to it airing on American television. What stood out to me about DBZ relative to other cartoons I had been watching at the time was first the fighting, second the serial nature of the show, and third the idea actions had consequences. Characters could DIE (and then run around and have dead adventures and come back to life later, but they were still officially dead). In a time of only “cartoon” violence, I got something I wouldn’t call realistic, but rather much more weighty. The universe hung in the balance, after all.

Now, the reason I’m giving this example is to begin to show that I believe that this generation gap in anime fandom has not only to do with physical age, but also that anime hits us hardest during periods when we are most emotionally and mentally receptive to it. It is during these times that I believe people have a hunger for entertainment which satisfies them, and this is the basis of peoples’ nostalgia for certain times. Anime fandom in the 70s grew out of science fiction and fantasy fan scenes, out of Star Trek and Star Wars, and the first big shows were things like Battle of the Planets and Star Blazers. These fans were receptive to it because it was similar to the types of shows they enjoyed beforehand, but it also flipped their worlds upside down with stories and themes that went beyond other forms of fiction they had been exposed to at that point. When Dragon Ball Z rose in popularity in the 90s, I strongly believe that kids had a reaction to it similar to my own. It affected their world, introduced them to new ideas. Same thing goes for people discovering Sailor Moon around the same time. And Pokemon. And even Love Hina.

The conflict occurs because the values which affect people have changed, and why anime fans of one generation can have difficulty with fans in another. While the values may have changed, the strong feelings towards the anime which they fell in love with means that each generation feels strongly about the shows which got them into it, and where feelings are concerned, misunderstandings arise, because when you attack someone’s favorite anime you are essentially attacking what they believe in, what makes them feel good about life. It’s easy to joke about not taking anime so seriously, that chill out it’s just a cartoon, but it is also easy to see why and how people can be affected by not just anime but any form of fiction or storytelling. And because these feelings are so strong, it makes other periods of anime pale by comparison because they are not easy to relate to on an emotional level. To give an example which is not necessarily generational, take a look at the Robotech and Macross fandoms. Robotech’s appeal is that it presents three series as a single cohesive universe with a unified theme. Macross’s appeal is that very different stories take place within the same universe, giving a variety of themes and subjects. Different values, different fanbases (though of course there’s plenty of crossover).

Older anime isn’t good precisely because it looks old, and seemingly exists in a time far gone and surely these shows could not possibly be better than the ones that have influenced a fan’s thoughts. New anime can’t possibly be good because it fails to tackle the themes which a fan finds most important. Those are the essential feelings.

Now, one thing I should point out is that it’s certainly possible to have multiple periods of increased receptiveness towards anime. By my count I’ve had at least 3 or 4 (the most recent being the era of Genshiken and Eureka Seven). Perhaps the people who say every show they watch is the best show ever do so because they are in a current renewed state of fandom, instead of simply being standard internet-style exaggeration.

Seeing why people become anime fans, I think, will result in a lot less misunderstanding.