My Academic Personal Interest in the Portrayal of Otaku and Fujoshi

You may have noticed that I avidly pursue manga and anime about otaku, and enjoy writing about the topic. Ever since Genshiken and the Densha Otoko boom (and arguably before that with Comic Party), I have been trying to expose myself to as many similarly themed works as possible. You might ask, “Do you think that stories about otaku are a superior genre compared to others?” or even, “Do you have a fetish for fujoshi?” I will tell you that I do not, and that furthermore, these questions are irrelevant.

There are those who will watch a show and desire more of the same. They will become fans of Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex and be disappointed when every anime they see does not turn out to be like SAC. I have no such illusions. I may love Genshiken, and may even compare other works to Genshiken, but I will never expect another work to be just like Genshiken because I know how unrealistic an expectation that is.

Instead, what I am fascinated by is the very portrayal of otaku in anime and manga itself. I want to see the optimistic and the pessimistic, the highs and the lows, the strong and honest works and the exploitative cash grabs, and everything else in between, to get a better sense of how they are seen and how creators want otaku to be seen. The Fujoshi Files are a result of this desire, and also to track the extent to which the “fujoshi character” and “fujoshi personality traits” have become prevalent in anime and manga. I like Ogiue very much, yes, but it is not due to her fujoshi attributes, but rather the way in which they are indicative of her deeper personality and thoughts. It is an academic pursuit, but that doesn’t mean it can’t get personal.

That is why I dedicate myself to finding these works. I want to know more, and if I so happen upon a particularly powerful and moving story then I am all the better for it. If not, at least I learned something.

The Fear of Ridicule

Anime fans are no strangers to being ridiculed. We tend to be socially inept to varying degrees, and we have a hobby that others don’t really understand (or more specifically, they don’t understand how we could devote so much time and energy and emotion to it). This creates a strong fear inside of us, that someone, whether it’s people at your school, your co-workers, your friends and acquaintances, does not think very highly of you. I’m no exception, and I know that I am neither the first dork nor the last one to experience this fear. I understand that it’s the kind of thing that can paralyze an individual, and make them unable to interact with others and grow, which in turn paralyzes them further.

Perceived ridicule comes from all angles, but the most interesting by far is the ridicule that comes from your “in-group,” in this case other anime fans. It’s one thing to be attacked from the outside, you can retreat, you can defend, but when the attack happens from “within,” it makes you feel that much more vulnerable. Again, you don’t even have to experience an actual slight. All it takes is the fear of one, and then it becomes a matter of overcoming it or ignoring it.

The reason why this fear of ridicule is so strong and present is that none of us can say we have never met a fellow fan who has weirded or creeped us the hell out. In some cases, as we get to know them we realize they’re okay overall, but there are those who are just somehow unapproachable, whether it’s due to their abrasive personalities, tendency to kill any line of conversation, or just someone whose presence in a room makes everything worse. We’ve seen these people, and then we think, “Wait, maybe I’m like that! I’m so busy thinking less of this person, but I bet that guy doesn’t think he’s that guy either, so maybe I was that guy all along!” Then you start to wonder what qualities about yourself might make you the person no one wants to be around, and now, even if you weren’t that guy, you might become him inadvertently, or worse yet, in your efforts to not be him as much as possible, you change yourself into a sad shell of who you were.

How do you move past this point? I’m not sure if any anime nerd will ever be able to completely rid themselves of these feelings, but we can take things one step at a time, and learn more about ourselves and others. If we know what we like and what we do not, and have confidence tempered by humility, then I think we’re on the right path.

It’d Be Like That Episode of the Simpsons

While I am a staunch advocate of the “Robots Hell Yeah” school of karaoke singing, I do lament the fact that attempting to do so with English songs is a much more daunting task. I mean, surely the fact that Japanese karaoke songs outnumber English ones about 10 to 1 doesn’t help, but why is it that someone can sing a somewhat obscure song from a Japanese commercial, but not, say, Chicken Tonight or Folgers Coffee?

If I had my way, I would be able to sing Stan Bush songs followed by Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I know that karaoke is a much bigger part of Japanese (and Korean) culture so it makes sense for more obscure songs to be there, but I just wish we lived in a better world. An OK world.

The “Anime Canon,” You Say? -The Anime Canon Project

Back in May of this year, I wrote about an idea to create “A Comprehensive Guide to Essential Episodes.” What it basically entailed was a desire to create a database of some sort to archive which episodes in a series could be skipped, and which episodes should be watched to really understand what makes these shows good or at least memorable. I came up with this idea in response to the anime fans I’ve seen and talked to whom have complained about the difficulty of getting into a show as long as, say, One Piece.

Alex Leavitt, in turn, has decided to utilize my original idea and convert to a much greater task, that of creating a true Anime Canon Project, or at least leading anime fans to understand why certain shows are “essential”—not that you need to watch them, necessarily (though Alex may disagree with me here), but that you need to understand how and why these specific titles have effected a great influence on anime fans and society beyond that.

Just to be safe, the canon here refers not to whether Naruto officially loves Hinata or not, but rather to a list of works which are deemed most influential to a given medium. In the canon of classical music for example, you would find names such as Beethoven and Mozart.

I’m not sure if Alex here is the first to try and tackle this monster, but the idea of an “Anime Canon” is in itself a precarious one (though not without merit). Not only would there be big differences between the Anime Canon of different countries (Golion was just another robot show in Japan, but Voltron is integral to the giant robot fanbase in American culture, just as Gloizer X is apparently an influential show in Brazil), but the last thing anime fans want is to be told what they should watch and that they are somehow inferior as fans should they choose not to watch these things. I am confident that this is not the message either Alex or myself are sending; as I have said in the past, the path to true fandom is not how much you know but how much you want to learn, and if done correctly this would be a valuable learning tool for everyone, including myself.

The Anime Canon should be not about what shows you should watch to truly understand anime, but rather about what shows you should watch if you want to see the degree to which trends in anime and the cultures that both stem from and are influenced by it. And the only way that this can happen is if enough people are willing to help while still keeping their heads on.

Give him a reply over at (alexleavitt @ gmail . com) if you’re interested, because I sure am. Alex: you have my e-mail address, so feel free to send anything you want over.

Am I “Qualified?”

This is one of those weird blogging about blogging posts. If you have no interest in waxing philosophy on such matters, then I suggest you go watch some anime (because anime is awesome).

If you look at the way in which I form ideas and write them out here at Ogiue Maniax, you will see that I have a tendency to qualify statements, taking simple sentences and complicating them in order to fully explain what I mean. Generally my goal is to remove as much ambiguity as I can (unless intended), but it can be a dangerous habit that can lead to strong assertions being weighed down by too many technicalities.

It’s not so much that I dislike the fact that I qualify statements so often(ah, there it goes!), but rather that I think it’s a good thing for me and other writers to be aware of. We can then know when it is appropriate to try and clarify in great detail what we’ve said previously, and when it is best to let something just stand on its own merits (in my case, this usually takes the form of a bad pun). In a manner of speaking, it all comes down to “how much should you say?”

The other major pitfall of over-qualifying statements is that if done incorrectly it can make your words seem as if they are constantly contradicting themselves in order to keep your opinion “correct.” That’s something to really watch out for.

Taisho Matthew Musume: A Biblical Look at Moe

In thinking about my Taisho Yakyuu Musume-related post from yesterday, I was reminded of one of the difficulties some people have with understanding how varied the appeal of moe can be while still being considered moe. Sometimes people ask, “Why would you want to see helpless girls? Do you like them that way?” And the answer to that is, they’re not helpless, they’re just at a disadvantage, and that has its own appeal from the perspective of a consumer of fiction.

I’m going to present here a quote from the Bible which I think is appropriate given the subject. Better known perhaps as the Parable of the Talents, Matthew 25:14-30 (New International Version) reads:

14“Again, it will be like a man going on a journey, who called his servants and entrusted his property to them. 15To one he gave five talents[a] of money, to another two talents, and to another one talent, each according to his ability. Then he went on his journey. 16The man who had received the five talents went at once and put his money to work and gained five more. 17So also, the one with the two talents gained two more. 18But the man who had received the one talent went off, dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money. 19“After a long time the master of those servants returned and settled accounts with them. 20The man who had received the five talents brought the other five. ‘Master,’ he said, ‘you entrusted me with five talents. See, I have gained five more.’

21“His master replied, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!’

22“The man with the two talents also came. ‘Master,’ he said, ‘you entrusted me with two talents; see, I have gained two more.’

23“His master replied, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!’

24“Then the man who had received the one talent came. ‘Master,’ he said, ‘I knew that you are a hard man, harvesting where you have not sown and gathering where you have not scattered seed. 25So I was afraid and went out and hid your talent in the ground. See, here is what belongs to you.’

26“His master replied, ‘You wicked, lazy servant! So you knew that I harvest where I have not sown and gather where I have not scattered seed? 27Well then, you should have put my money on deposit with the bankers, so that when I returned I would have received it back with interest.

28” ‘Take the talent from him and give it to the one who has the ten talents. 29For everyone who has will be given more, and he will have an abundance. Whoever does not have, even what he has will be taken from him. 30And throw that worthless servant outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’

Religious connotations aside, this parable highlights the appeal of watching, say, the girls of Taisho Yakyuu Musume strive to beat a boy’s baseball team instead of aiming for a loftier goal: the desire to watch characters try their best to succeed with the abilities they have. You can even see that not all of the girls are the absolute best at the positions they’re given. Sure, some of the girls are already athletic, but many have to train, some harder than others, and ultimately no one expects them to easily surpass the ones with more training and talent, but we look approvingly upon the progress they’ve already made.

While the parable does not map completely to the case of the Baseball Girls, the gist is that the servant fearing that he was not good enough chose instead to bury his head in the sand and hope for the best. What the master wanted to see from the servant was for him to value what he has, even if it wasn’t as much as the servant with ten talents, and do something with it. What I and others want to see is characters who may not be the most skilled or even capable of simple tasks trying hard to accomplish what they can.

In a more secular vernacular, the proper term would probably be, “Work with what you’ve got.” This is why we enjoy watching moe girls try to cook even though they’re terrible at it. This is why we enjoy watching them learn to play baseball without any indication of skill. We’re not hoping for them to fail, we just want to cheer them on and congratulate them for not running to the backyard and burying their one talent.

Don’t compare the moe girls to those more capable than they, but rather look kindly upon what they manage to accomplish taking into account the amount of “talent” they were given.

For examples of character equivalents of the man with five talents, see: Akagi Shigeru, Kenshiro.

A City’s Entire Public Library System Being Shut Down Isn’t the End of the World But…

I’ve recently been informed that the Free Library of Philadelphia, the public library for that city, is being forced to shut down due to a complete lack of government funding. It’s not just a few libraries that are closing, but the entirety of the Philadelphia public library system. This is a Big Deal.

I am in no way privy to the workings of the Pennsylvania state government, nor do I have any experiences with the Free Library, but what I do know is that closing down so many libraries that you leave some people with no alternatives sends some of the worst possible messages to kids that I can think of.

I don’t think anyone will disagree with the fact that reading is important. However, what happens when those kids eager to get away from the boring books they’ve read in class want to find something they’d enjoy on their own, perhaps…manga? Yes, there are possible alternatives to getting books. You can borrow them from friends, your own school might have its own limited library, and you can even buy them new or used, but think about the message being sent to these kids. “Books aren’t that important. They’re so unimportant that the state couldn’t even provide sufficient funding for its own libraries.”

The library is a noble institution whose purpose is to provide knowledge for all, and as much as I can understand that nothing can ever live up to an ideal, it still saddens me that an entire city will lose the majority of its libraries and restrict the ability for people young and old to learn and to read. I worry about the kids especially, because generally adults can at the very least use their regular income to purchase books. On top of that, educational programs run by the Free Library are being canceled as a result of all this, giving people even fewer opportunities. Perhaps this can be made up for if most of the funding that would have gone into the public library went into public education, but even then I worry about what these actions are really saying.

Who needs a library, really?

The Otaku Diaries and the Somewhat Forbidden Topic

This past Monday saw the Reverse Thieves post their latest statistics from their Otaku Diaries project. The topic: Bullying. The original question basically asked whether or not you were ever bullied or were a bully, and probably to no one’s surprise the vast majority of those surveyed mentioned that they were at one point or another the target of mental and/or physical abuse by their peers.

One thing that Hisui is quick to point out that I find quite interesting is the sheer level of discomfort that otaku seem to be at when discussing a topic such as bullying. They are eager to share a long, detailed list of fetishes, but won’t elaborate on when or how or why they were bullied. It kind of sends a message that otaku have little shame when given an anonymous survey but are still hesitant to open up old wounds. It’s not surprising of course, but it really gives a good view of how otaku view themselves, and it basically comes down to a shunning of that which has hurt us, and a celebration of that which brings us pleasure (and in this case, pleasure).

I too was a victim of bullying for a number of years, and for many years after that I harbored a deep, personality-affecting anger towards my tormentors. Did it contribute to the person I am today? I think so, but in a different sort of way. As time has passed, I still do not look upon those days fondly, but with enough emotional distance and perspective available to me now, I realize that as much as I hated my bullies then, we were all stupid kids. How much can I blame a bunch of kids for doing dumb things, when all they really wanted was to try and grow up as quickly as possible and act like adults? Should I be blaming the kids for having a warped perception of what it means to be mature, or should I be questioning their upbringing?

Being bullied made me realize just how wrong it is to diminish another person. That’s not to say you should never criticize someone, kick someone out, or even get into physical altercations, but there better be a damn good reason for it, and it better not just be to pad your own ego.

Actually, probably the thing that made me more forgiving of my old bullies was when I began to see geeks bullying other geeks. This initially disturbed me quite a bit, as I believed that all geeks and dorks were inherently nice people who were just the victims of others’ malice, but then I found out that given the opportunity, those same geeks were capable of turning around and becoming bullies themselves. I truly believe that bullying with your intelligence is a far greater crime than bullying with your fists, especially when it’s by those who should know better, but what can I do about it aside from speak about it here and warn my fellow otaku to not fall into the same trap?

Please get along, anime fans of the world. I would hate to see any of you make the mistakes of those before you.

Brilliance of Life, Billions of Stars: Rintaro’s Galaxy Express 999

Whenever I am asked to list my favorite anime of all time, I unequivocally give the same answer: the Galaxy Express 999 movie. Released in 1979 and directed by Rintaro, I first watched it theatrically many, many years later, when I was about 16 years old. Galaxy Express 999 is instrumental in defining my artistic style, my desire to pursue anime and manga beyond what is at the forefront of fandom consciousness, and my general love of strong, emotional storytelling of the kind that cares less for intricate details and more for conveying the inner feelings of characters.

Galaxy Express 999 was originally a manga by famed author Matsumoto Leiji, and was later adapted into a TV series, some movies, and multiple spin-offs. In almost every case, the basic setting is a future where intergalactic travel is possible through the use of high-tech spacecrafts designed to look like the trains of old. Of these, the most famous is the Galaxy Express 999, a mock steam engine which takes its passengers to the Andromeda Galaxy where they can obtain a mechanical body and live forever. One person who desires to board the 999 is a young vagabond of a boy named Hoshino Tetsurou, whose poverty prevents him from obtaining a train pass for the 999. A chance meeting with Maetel, a woman clad in all black with blonde tresses reaching down to her ankles, gives him the opportunity, but as he visits planet after planet he begins to realize that life and immortality are not so simple after all.

Plot-wise, the 999 movie is no exception, though for the sake of time the story is greatly simplified. Instead of visiting dozens of planets, Tetsurou and Maetel visit fewer than ten. The result is that the voyage is not as long, and thus the theme of maturing from boyhood to manhood does not resonate quite as strongly, but in exchange the story is a little more focused, and a lot easier to digest; 2 hours is a lot less time than the 110 half-hour episodes which comprised the TV series.

On an artistic level, the 999 movie is neck-deep in its 70s origins. This is no small part due to the original source material, but it extends far beyond being a cut-and-dry visual adaptation of the manga, adding many abstract, mildly psychedelic elements to scenes.  For example, as the 999 travels along, the bright yellow windows along the sides of each rail car can be seen cutting through space, adding to the melancholy and wonder of the movie’s atmosphere. The acting is at its finest as well, with Nozawa Masako (Tetsurou) and Ikeda Masako (Maetel) giving some of their finest performances ever. Ikeda’s most famous role of all time is undoubtedly Maetel, and when you hear the subtle complexity and the aura of mystery in her voice, you will understand why. Along with a somewhat disparate yet sensible mix of orchestral scores and 70s pop and disco for a soundtrack, Galaxy Express 999 exudes a mostly romantic view of the future tinged by stark and poignant commentaries on the condition of life and humanity, commentaries that occur in the story itself as well as in the core aesthetics of the movie.

Of course, the movie is not without its faults or peculiarities. Though designed to be a greatly shortened version of Galaxy Express 999, it still feels to some extent like a series of smaller stories strung together, creating a very loose sense of cohesion in the narrative. Also, while certain popular Matsumoto characters make cameo appearances, their presence may confuse some viewers unfamiliar with them. And for those who expect a movie about travel to feature some unexpected detours, this is not really the case with 999, which basically stays “on the rails”: an appropriate feature for a movie about an interstellar train to have, but perhaps one that would not be so popular among people hoping for a major derail. As I said at the beginning though, Galaxy Express 999 concerns itself less with weaving an intricate tapestry of a story and more with filling you with a mix of powerful emotions and human themes.

I remember that, upon finishing this movie for the first time, I realized my jaw was wide open; that’s how much it amazed me and drew me into its world. Having watched the movie again recently, I became very aware of just how much I’d changed since I saw it, and as a result of having seen it all those years ago. Life, much like the titular train of the movie, is a one-way trip, and even if you revisit the old stops, you’ll realize that you’re not the same person you once were.

Reductive Production

As of late, I’ve felt that quite a few anime creators have been taking a reductive approach to determining what is necessary for a piece of fiction to actually work. They’re examining the innards of animation as a story-telling device, and removing seemingly vital organs in order to determine whether it was a heart or if it was just the tonsils. The three most prominent examples I can think of are Miyazaki, Oshii, and Kyoto Animation.

Miyazaki asks, “Do I really need a cohesive narrative when I just want to illustrate a series of events in animation?” and then creates Ponyo.

Oshii asks, “Does my movie really need to be actively engaging when I want to make a movie entirely about tedium?” and then creates Sky Crawlers.

Kyoto Animation asks, “Can a work be considered ‘new’ if everything BUT the story itself is entirely redone?” and then creates the Endless Eight portion of Haruhi.

In every instance here, creators are using their reputations to put surprisingly experimental animations in a public setting for mass consumption. In the case of Oshii and Miyazaki, it’s in the theater, and for Kyoto Animation it’s on TV in the form of one of the most popular anime in recent years. And with these experiments, they are asking a rather weighty question: what exactly is fiction? They’re asking themselves, asking the audience, asking the industry, and depending on the answer they receive, we may see more works like this or less.

How do you feel about this? Should creators be using such public settings to experiment to such an extent?

I feel like in every instance here, creators are using their reputations to put surprisingly experimental animations in a public setting for mass consumption. In the case of Oshii and Miyazaki, it’s in the theater, and for Kyoto Animation it’s on TV in the form of one of the most popular anime in recent years.