The Cross-Cultural Exchange of a Couple of G’s

In 1996, Russian-American animator Genndy Tartakovsky premiered Dexter’s Laboratory and pioneered the thick-lined,”flatter” animation style. This style can also be seen in Samurai Jack and Star Wars: Clone Wars, as well as in Powerpuff Girls, where Genndy was director.

Flash back a few month to 1995 and we get one of most the influential anime ever, Studio Gainax’s Neon Genesis Evangelion. Gainax, known for a variety of works from various genres, are especially fondly remembered for their giant robot fare, most notably Evangelion but also Aim for the Top! and Tengen Toppa Gurren-Lagann.

Now, in late 2010: Gainax’s latest anime is a tongue-in-cheek cartoon about a pair of misfits and heavily utilizes thick outlines and very flat character designs, while Genndy Tartakovsky’s newest show is an honest, non-parody attempt at a super robot-themed series. Both series’ debuts occurred less than three weeks apart from each other.

While the relationship between Japan and America’s cartoons and comics have been put in the spotlight recently with collaborations such as the joint Iron Man and Wolverine projects involving Marvel and Studio Madhouse, the fact that Genndy Tartakovsky’s Sym-Bionic Titan and Gainax’s Panty & Stocking with Garterbelt have come into existence so close to one another puts an even greater focus on the two nations’ cartoons. Here in one cross-section of time, we can see the active/passive exchange of ideas as these cultures’ animation styles appear to intertwine so tightly that they sling each other across the Pacific Ocean.

Neither show is so like the animated series of the others’ country that they come off as weak imitations. Sym-Bionic Titan takes fusing robots, a fight against a powerful invading force, and various other giant robot tropes, mixes them in with Genndy’s own character aesthetics, and places the story firmly within America and its own cultural norms. Meanwhile, Panty & Stocking utilizes the visual elements and humor of early “Cartoon Cartoons” (as Cartoon Network referred to them) while also injecting very anime-esque expressions and reactions from its characters, most notably in their faces, and also ramping up the humor to more “adult” levels. The two series and their hybrid styles reinforce both the idea that creativity is not limited by national borders and that individual cultures can still maintain some of their distinctiveness when it comes to artistic output.

This is not a bad thing.

As a final aside, the personal robot used by the character Lance in Sym-Bionic Titan reminds me of the titular robot from Galaxy Gale Baxinger.

I can’t be the only one, right?

Ogiuevolution: Thoughts on Genshiken II

As the premiere Ogiue-themed blogger, I’ve had quite a few people asking me about my feelings on the all-new manga sequel to Genshiken, or as I like to call it, the “best surprise ever.” I have a lot of thoughts to lay down, so put on your hats and let’s go for a ride.

I recently picked up the second and final volume of Genshiken author Kio Shimoku’s child-raising manga Jigopuri (the first volume of which I reviewed), where I kind of expected to see the one-chapter continuation of Genshiken that fans generally refer to as “Chapter 56.” After all, the Kujibiki Unbalance manga featured additional Genshiken chapters, so I figured this was no different. As it turns out however, there was no Chapter 56 at the end of Jigopuri Volume 2, which left me kind of curious as to where the continued adventures of Chairman Ogiue would end up. Upon hearing the news of Genshiken II (alternately “Genshiken Nidaime” or “Genshiken the Second” to differentiate it from the second anime TV series, Genshiken 2), I realized that Chapter 56 would probably simply end up as the first chapter of the new series; all Kio has to do is change the chapter number from 56 to 1. It’s not the first time the chapter numbers have been modified in Genshiken, either. Volume 8 of Genshiken featured chapters which weren’t published for the initial run in Afternoon, and so the numbers were changed accordingly.

Whether or not Genshiken II is a response to Jigopuri‘s lack of success (as far as seinen manga goes, infants are a particularly unorthodox subject, and the way Kio handled it even less so) or an attempt to regain popularity, I think it’s clear that Kio doesn’t simply want to rehash the original formula even if it is a sequel. Just at the outset, there are two major differences between the new Genshiken club and the old. First, whereas the club back in Volume 1 of Genshiken was populated primarily by guys, five years of time have transformed it into one filled with mostly women, which is something probably no one expected from the club for years and years since its original founding. Second, Ogiue is at the helm, but her importance in this role isn’t simply that she’s their new fearless leader. She’s carrying the increased momentum set by Sasahara when he first became chairman and decided that the club should participate at the doujinshi event Comic Festival, and is taking it further by leading the charge with her own artistic skills and experience. These two aspects alone will provide plenty of differentiation from the previous series, and even if it is a bit of a cash grab, I think Kio will likely try to make it more than just that.

But then I hear people asking, “What if it’s too different?” In the original 2channel thread which revealed the news to the internet, a number of commenters voiced such concerns, talking about the different gender balance of characters, how the series appears to have become populated with moe harem character types, and simply that they could no longer relate to the series with its relative lack of “typical” otaku.  While I don’t agree with everything said, I can definitely see where they’re coming from. When you compare Chapter 1 with Chapter 56, it can feel like night and day even when you ignore the drastic art difference. It almost makes you feel like saying, “What happened to Genshiken?”

The answer is, chapters 2 through 55 “happened.”

While the themes of growth and change are much more prominent in the second half of the series, Genshiken has always featured them to some extent, right when Sasahara decides to check out the clubroom. Along the way, each new club member influenced the old ones and vice versa, with the final result being characters who are different from when they started, more confident about themselves and a little less worried about distinctions betwen otaku and non-otaku. So yes, the Modern Culture Society is no longer filled with anime fans who can’t talk with girls to save their lives, but it didn’t happen out of the blue, it isn’t unrealistic, and Genshiken isn’t a series with static characterization.

The more negative responses about Genshiken II seem to imply that success is less realitic than failure, that pain more of a truth than pleasure. While I simply cannot agree with that, it kind of puts things into perspective. Perhaps some of the fans feel that as the characters and the story of Genshiken progressed, they ended up outgrowing the fans themselves to the point that the series no longer felt like it spoke to them. But even then, I think that fans can still relate to the new cast of characters, regardless of gender differences, and it can feel just as close to home, if not closer. After all, I relate to Ogiue, and this is where it’s taken me.

Additional thoughts:

Of course, I recognize that at least three of these characters are entirely new, so they don’t have the same emotional attachment as the previous club members, but I say give them a chance. At the very least, I received a good impression from Yajima, Hato, and Yoshitake in Chapter 56, and remember that the old characters were once unfamiliar too.

If I were responsible for Kio Shimoku creating a new Genshiken spinoff, it would have to be Angela Burton’s American Anime Club.

As for the “harem” complaint, I think that’s just an exaggerated complaint about the mostly female cast.

Shounen Opening Pattern

Recently, after years away from the Naruto anime, I decided to check out a few recent episodes of the second series,  Naruto Shippuuden. Watching the opening, I saw the Konoha ninjas fighting off an invasion of their home village, with each character getting their own time in the sun, as if the intro wanted to tell you that each and every character is Important. Given the immense cast of Naruto and the 90 second limit of the opening, this means that each character gets no more than a few moments. In fact, Uzumaki Naruto himself, our titular protagonist, hardly has more screen time than others. All in all, the opening is quite hectic.

Afterwards, I decided to go back and watch the very first Naruto opening, and right from when the orange ninja beckoned me to “C’mon,” I was getting an entirely different feel from  the Shippuuden intro. Instead of the scores of figures that currently populate the series, the first opening features only four characters. Rookie ninjas Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura, as well as their teacher and leader Kakashi are each focused upon extensively, and it makes the newest opening feel almost claustrophobic by comparison.

Part of this has to do with the open-endedness of the first opening. With no specific plot developments to hint at, it’s as if the characters and the intro itself are given room to breathe. You get a real sense that these characters are important, Naruto in particular. In a way, it’s quite relaxing.

I compared Bleach openings, too. Once again, the simple, yet heavy emphasis the first opening puts on Ichigo and Rukia differs a good deal from the almost overwhelming number of characters featured in the current opening. Taking a step back, the sheer contrast between then and now seems to speak towards the character bloat that the most popular shounen fighting series almost inevitably experience. If you go and watch every opening back to back, be it Bleach or Naruto, you can really experience the cast creep.

Having an enormous cast of characters in a shounen title is not anything new. Kinnikuman for example sports so many wrestlers that it can be difficult to keep track of everyone. However, the anime’s openings do not try to partition roughly the same amount of time for every character. They do not try to say that everyone else is almost as important as Kinnikuman himself. And while there are a number of differing factors between Kinnikuman and Naruto, not least of which is the fact that Naruto simply has more openings, I think it also highlights the increased focus on a “pick your favorite” method of presenting characters in anime and manga.

Essentially, I believe the reason that later Naruto and Bleach openings feature so many characters with roughly equal screen time is that they know each character has their own fanbase, and they want those fans to feel that their favorites are getting treated right. While I don’t see anything necessarily wrong with this, it still makes me miss those simpler times, when it was mainly just Ichigo and Rukia.

If you want to check out the openings I’ve referred to in this post, Crunchyroll has the latest episodes of Naruto and Bleach. As for the older ones, I’ve provided links below. Keep in mind that due to copyright policies and such, most of these videos are modified somewhat, usually by making them widescreen when they originally weren’t.

Naruto Opening 1

Bleach Opening 1

Kinnikuman Opening 1

Kinnikuman Opening 4

Manga Artists and Their Stylistic Progression: A Video Demonstration

A while ago, I found a series of videos on Nico Nico Douga wherein manga characters from the first volume of their respective titles are compared to their later incarnations in the same series. In most instances, this is done to show some kind of great contrast, either by a marked improvement in drawing ability or an unusually large shift in style. I think it’d be to everyone’s benefit to take a look, and because I understand that not everyone has a Nico account or wants to fumble with the Japanese language registration, I’ve taken the liberty of uploading all three videos to Youtube. You can find them at the bottom of this post.

Regardless of how exactly the change comes about, the shift or transformation in art style seems to most often come from increasing familiarity. Speaking somewhat from personal experience, when you first start to draw a character, even if you’ve planned them out extensively, there’s still a period of struggle where the character’s design and by extension their personality and physical language are not yet ingrained in your psyche. The more you draw the characters, the more natural they feel to you, possibly eventually reaching a point where you’re so comfortable with them that your aesthetic sense and personality start to shine through the characters, almost subconsciously. It’s like your body and mind start to prioritize what’s really important to you, and I think you will definitely see this happening for at least a good number of your favorite artists.

So take a look, be amazed, and lay down your own thoughts and feelings about art in manga. If you’d all prefer, I can even compile a list of all of the artists and titles mentioned here.

Shoujo is Good

Recently, debate about shoujo manga has centered around “girliness.” Although the word can have multiple meanings, in the context of shoujo it generally refers to pink hearts, sparkles, and school romance, all things you may very well see if you are to pick up a random volume of shoujo. Writers have been addressing how the girliness of shoujo is seen by people of all varieties, girls, guys, those intimately familiar with manga and those who hardly know anything, and any issues that arise from that perception.

The definition of shoujo manga comes into question as a result. Is shoujo defined by those aesthetic and thematic tropes, or is it something much broader? Is shoujo manga simply any comic that runs in a shoujo magazine, no matter the content? But while these are all very good questions, I feel like they are obscuring a very important idea that is more fundamental to manga and storytelling in general.

Setting aside whether or not shoujo is limited by tropes, average girls and impossibly handsome men covered in hearts and sparkles do not preclude good storytelling. It may not be someone’s cup of tea to read about the trials and tribulations of a 14 year old’s love triangle, but there is no ironclad rule stating that such a story cannot be not only entertaining but also legitimately good and able to speak to a wider audience.

Brigid Alverson equates shoujo manga with trashy romance novels, stating, “You read your chosen genre for relaxation, not literary quality.” While I do read shoujo for my own comfort, I also actively look for literary quality in it and am frequently rewarded as a result. I do not believe that it is some rare feat to find strong storytelling and strong characters in shoujo, whether it’s from the 70s or from this past decade, and that is also largely because I do not see shoujo as being limited by convention.

I’m not saying that one should just accept everything without a critical eye, but simply that when the reward is less stellar, one should not necessarily condemn the tropes from holding back shoujo, but perhaps view it as an individual story failing to use those elements in an effective manner. The potential for good, strong fiction is still there and the fact that the heroine’s parents died, conveniently leaving her to fend for herself, is not a death sentence for quality.  It is not only possible to appreciate both shoujo which has all the trappings of “girliness” as well as shoujo which eschews that aesthetic, but to appreciate both on equal levels. Just because you enjoy the unorthodox doesn’t mean that the orthodox is inherently worse or vice versa. Shoujo is both and everything in between, and in every case, whether the manga are adhering to convention or not, good stories can be told, and found, on a regular basis.

The Passing: Satoshi Kon

Satoshi Kon, dead at age 47, will always be remembered for creating great animated films.

In writing this post, I am aware that I am nowhere near the biggest Kon fan. I’ve only seen a handful of his total output, owning none of it on physical media or in digital format, but I know that of the films I have seen, all have had a profound effect on me. To this day, I distinctly remember that scene in Millennium Actress where the titular character is moving gracefully between still paintings, stepping out of one and taking up her pose in the next. It’s visually creative in a way rarely seen in anime, even with someone like Miyazaki, who usually goes a much more orthodox route when it comes to representation of events. It’s the kind of thing that gets burned into your memories, and you’re all the better for it.

When I say that the man will be remembered for creating great animated films, you might be wondering, by whom? And the answer is nearly everyone. Not just film buffs, not just the casual movie-going audience, and especially not just anime fans who themselves come in all varieties, but just about anyone who’s had the opportunity to see one of his films. Satoshi Kon’s recurring themes of psychology, memories, and dreams have the potential to be incredibly heavy and complex to the point of driving people away, but instead Kon managed to create incredibly accessible works which get their audiences to think. Not every film is for every person, but there’s inevitably one you can show to your friends or your family and have a nice discussion afterward. You want to know how to mature your tastes as an anime fan in a short amount of time? Watch a Kon film, and see where your mind takes you.

I’ve seen around the internet that people are worried about the fate of anime and the creativity therein after all of this. To this I say, losing Satoshi Kon, especially at such a young age, is a serious blow to the heart and gut of Japanese animation, but great creators die. It’s kind of what they do, being human and all, and to dwell on what they could have done, while a worthwhile exercise, only takes you so far. A creative form of expression such as animation, Japanese or otherwise, is not so simple that it can be felled by the death of one man, great as he may have been. There is mourning, but there is also the next step.

Rest in peace, Satoshi Kon, with the knowledge that it’s impossible for you to not have inspired someone.

This Hand of Mine is Burning Red, It Tells Me to Watch Anime: Thoughts on Blogging

Ever since THAT Anime Blog came out with its guides on how to establish yourself as a blogger, I’ve toyed around with the idea of writing my own. My intended approach was to focus less on steps for “establishing” a blog-like entity and more on the act of writing one’s feelings on anime and manga. As I started to think about it more though, I realized that as much as I can talk about the way I write, the last thing I want to do is to give the impression that my style is better or that you should be trying to write how I write.

But even though I don’t think I can write a proper guide for anime blogging at this point, I still want to convey what I think are essentials for anime blogging, or at the very least are pointers that will help you, whether you’ve already been blogging for years or you’ve just started thinking about committing your thoughts to your internet journal. I will still use myself as an example, but mainly so that I can give some context to my thoughts.

Think of the Possibilities

Before I even start to write, I approach anime blogging with the notion that there is always, always something interesting to talk about or to consider. Now a lot of times I don’t even manage to reach those interesting conversation points, but what’s important here is the mindset. Somewhere out there in the nebulous space of otaku-relevant thought is at least one on-going discussion that is worth exploring, or perhaps an idea that has yet to be expanded upon, or even an area into which you can funnel your own thoughts and opinions.

Anime series, manga series, comparing anime to manga, fandom itself, story, characters, episodes, story arcs, character design, costume design, political and philosophical messages, psychological elements of games, the possibilities are near-endless, and if I fail to talk about something interesting, I don’t think it’s anime’s fault for not having enough meat, but more my fault for having my attention caught up by other things.

Which isn’t a bad thing, really. I can’t fault someone for not feeling like they can write about anime or an anime-related subject because their mind was elsewhere. However, I think you can see that there’s a difference between “I couldn’t find anything interesting to talk about” and “There wasn’t anything interesting to talk about.”

Understand Yourself, or At Least Try to

If you’re looking to foster your “voice” as a writer or at least as an anime fan, I think it’s good to have a good sense of yourself and how you approach your anime fandom. Do you see any trends? Why do you think you like one show but not the other? Can you commit those thoughts to your keyboard in a way where others can understand where you’re coming from even if they disagree with you?

My personal voice as it has been established on this blog is one of creating connections. I look to connect seemingly disparate ideas with one another to foster conversation and at the same time connect readers with ideas both old and new so that they too can think more about themselves and their fandom. However, this is not entirely how Ogiue Maniax began, and it’s something that was only eventually established as I wrote more. So even if you feel like you don’t have a voice, or you don’t feel like you understand yourself as an anime fan, you can still treat your blog as a venue for self-exploration. It doesn’t even necessarily have to be about you. One possibility is to write your thoughts on two different shows and to just kind of compare your two posts and see if they differ any in tone, attitude, or some other area. Then, simply ask yourself, “why?”

Love It Even When You Hate It

The feeling that I really want to emphasize is joy. Anime blogging should be fun even when it’s frustrating and you feel like it might not be worth it to say anything. If you can keep it fun for yourself by watching fewer shows, do so. If it’s more fun when you focus on specific things, focus on that. If it becomes a bit of a chore, don’t be afraid to experiment and find something you do want to talk about. If you can get fired up over what’s wrong with a series instead of what’s right, talk about that provided you can do so with genuine gusto. Burn-out is fairly common within anime blogging, and the chief cause is a simple loss of passion. That’s not to say that you can’t sometimes get tired of writing about anime or whatever topic you’re on, but that even when you get the strange feeling that your blogging has turned into an obligation, it shouldn’t completely extinguish the flame of fandom that burns within you.

Somewhat Less Perilous: MD Geist the Comic

Rarely do I get review requests for Ogiue Maniax, but when I was told to review MD Geist, I knew I had to take on the challenge.

MD Geist is somewhat of an anomaly in anime. Largely ignored in Japan, this OVA found success in the United States in the 80s and 90s and helped to define “anime” as something more adult (or at least indicative of hormonal teenagers). With the titular character eventually becoming the “face” of anime through his role as mascot and “spokesmecha” for the anime company Central Park Media, you will find that a certain generation of anime fans feels a close connection to the title. Years later Central Park Media would fund a sequel.

But wait, this isn’t actually a review of the MD Geist OVAs, but of the American-produced comic adaptation by artist and VOTOMS expert Tim Eldred. And through the lens of Mr. Eldred, interesting things happen.

Before I get into the comic though, I have to state what is a commonly-held truth in anime, restated time and again over the past few decades: MD Geist is bad. Its designs are unsuited for animation, its story is paper-thin, its action scenes are only really enjoyable on a surface level, and its characters are poorly realized. At the same time however, it is an enjoyable sort of bad. In many ways it represents a generation of mediocre straight-to-VHS anime.

But it’s difficult to recapture that sort of accidental magic. Tim Eldred understood this well, I assume, as he doesn’t try to bottle magic. Instead, he takes the patches strewn across the floor in disarray and attempts to sew them together into a complete quilt. He adds a back story, he adds character motives, he turns MD Geist into a “real” story rather than an incongruous facsimile of one.

The MD Geist comic is divided into two parts: an origin story for MD Geist and a retelling of the first OVA, with the intent to flesh out Geist’s character. Not only was he a “Most Dangerous Soldier,” but you learn why exactly he was imprisoned and about the woman who first assisted/controlled him. Through this, you get the same impression as one would reading fanfiction. I do not mean that negatively. One of the great strengths of fanfiction is that fans of a series can take the odds and ends of their favorite series and then speculate until their brainstorming session has gone far beyond the original source.

On its own, the MD Geist comic is decent. The only issue with that is that it comes at the expense of the extreme amounts of ridiculousness which pervade the source material to the extent that the original creators cannot even remember why they made any of their creative decisions (check the director’s commentary track on the DVD). Reading the comic over seeing the anime will get you a better story, but it won’t necessarily get you MD Geist.

On Powerful Female Characters

Seeing the comments I received on my post about strong female characters two days ago, I noticed that much of the difficulty in the discussion comes from people disagreeing on the very definition of the term (as is the case with so many anime arguments). Re-reading the examples given there and elsewhere, I’ve come to realize that the issue stems from the fact that when many people use the term “strong female character,” they actually mean “powerful female character.”

It’s a simple yet profound difference. Think about how you’d use the two words to describe a real person.

“That woman is strong.”

“That woman is powerful.”

It rings differently, doesn’t it? Power can refer to a number of things. Physical ability, political influence, knowledge, specialized skills, it all comes down something which gives a character the tools to do things better than others. But when you say someone is strong, you’re generally talking about something deeper inside, such as an iron resolve or strong convictions.

That’s not to say that just because a character is powerful can’t meant they’re strong or vice versa, of course. And many times a series can potentially undermine a strong character by intentionally or unintentionally placing emphasis on “power.” Even so, I think this is where most of the misunderstandings occur.

So I guess the real solution is to ask both questions.

What do you think of the status of strong female characters in anime and manga?

What do you think of the status of powerful female characters in anime and manga?

On Strong Female Characters, Again

Occasionally people say that anime and manga have a dearth of strong female characters, that they are relegated to supporting roles where they must step aside for the male leads. But while such characters do exist, to think that they are the majority of female characters in anime and manga betrays a myopic view of anime and manga fueled primarily by titles designed for guys looking for some kind of power fantasy.

I recently began reading Attack No. 1, a 60s shoujo manga about volleyball and one of the most famous sports manga series ever. Being a 60s title and well before the advent of the Showa 24 Group, I somewhat expected the main heroine Kozue to be demure and dainty and in need of a strong man, but I was proven completely wrong. That part in the anime’s opening where Kozue goes, “But I shed tears. I’m a girl, after all?” That is a complete diversion from what she really is.

In the first few chapters, Kozue is a transfer student who antagonizes the teacher by sleeping through classes, then goes up to the girls’ volleyball team and accuses them of not truly understanding volleyball. She then makes a bet that she can beat their trained team using just a ragtag bunch of complete beginners, and then in order to achieve her goal trains her erstwhile teammates so hard that they collapse from exhaustion repeatedly.

Everyone talks about how Hagio Moto and her comrades revolutionized shoujo manga, and they surely did, but going back even to the prior decade we can see a heroine who shows strength, both inner and outer. And as you continue along throughout the decades, you can see more and more examples. Don’t let the popularity of certain titles and genres blind you.

But I also realize that it’s very easy to call just about any female character a “strong one,” particularly when they are designed to be badass action heroes. These fall into two dangerous categories, the first being the “action damsel,” where a girl is a strong and capable fighter up until the point that she gets kidnapped and needs a man, and the second being the “man in a woman suit,” as Hisui from the Speakeasy Podcast so put it. The issue with the former is that it tends to undercut all of the development a female character might have, while the problem with the latter is that it pushes a very specific idea of what it means to be “strong.”

In the same podcast, Hisui also says that his problem with the “man in a woman suit” is that it is essentially a shortcut to actual well-developed character portrayal, and that it is pretty much shallow. I pretty much agree with Hisui on this matter, but I also want to address another great danger that comes from associating the idea of “strong female characters” with “tough action hero,” and that is that it implies that the only way for a female character to be strong is to be “like a guy,” or to put it more broadly, that the only way is through physical strength and hardened grit and determination.

Think about that for a moment. It’s bad enough that we define male strength through physical prowess, but to also try to group women in there as well is a grave mistake. Putting characters and fiction aside for a moment, true strength comes from within, it is not something measured simply through muscles and athletic ability. While a person who is physically strong, male or female, can also be strong inside, the former without the latter is an empty shell. Though I know that Hokuto no Ken isn’t the best example of strong female characters, as most of them are there to just stand aside at let men fight men, I think of the little girl whom Kenshiro rescues early on, Rin.

In one chapter, Rin is kidnapped by a gang of misshapen thugs who have terrorized an entire village. In order to oppress the villagers, the gang ruthlessly forces them to walk on a pit of fire, with many casualties naturally resulting. The villagers are gripped with fear, but when it’s Rin’s turn to walk the coals, she remembers Kenshiro’s words, that she cannot give in to fear, that she cannot let them win. Rin willingly walks towards the flames, head held high, and in doing so shames the villagers. If such a little girl has the spirit to fight back, what does that say about all of the full-grown men who cowered in the shadows?

Then Rin eventually becomes some kind of damsel-in-distress and there’s a whole marrying Rin arc when she gets older, but I chalk that up more to the second part of Hokuto no Ken being terrible overall than anything else. But there it is, even in Shounen Jump you can find a display of great inner strength in a female character, albeit temporarily.

One more time, I want to state that strong female characters in anime and manga definitely do exist and in large numbers. If asked, I can even start listing them off, but the important thing to take away here is that you simply have to look in the right places with the right mindset.