Time and Genshiken

When I originally read Tamagomago’s post on the Genshiken generation gap, I realized something: time has moved differently for the characters of Genshiken compared to the real world.

The gap between Genshiken and Genshiken II has changed how I relate to Genshiken. Genshiken II starts off only a few months after the end of the first series, but in the real world, nearly five years had passed. One result of this is that the references used in the new series are a little anachronistic (a Zan Sayonara Zetsubou-sensei reference when the show shouldn’t have been out at that point, for example), but the one I find to be more personally important is that I went from being around Sasahara’s age to actually being closer to Madarame’s. I am no longer the college senior who could read about Sasahara’s graduation around the same time as my own. Had the manga progressed steadily from Volume 9, had there not been the long wait to herald in Genshiken II, I wonder if I would’ve also been reading the manga a little differently?

One criticism of the new Genshiken that I see from not just English-speaking fans but also Japanese ones is that it’s been difficult to relate to the new, primarily female cast. The feeling I often get from that response is that the readers who are of the opinion that Genshiken has changed for the worse feel that this world of college-aged otaku is not the one they had originally left. I even talked about it when the new series was beginning, remarking that Genshiken has always been about change, and that it should be possible to relate to these new characters, even if they do come from a different generation otaku. I realize now though that it’s not so much a matter of these readers not being able to relate to characters unlike themselves, but more that they feel the philosophy of Genshiken has changed, that the core essence is something different and perhaps frightening.

Obviously, the experience of shifting age groups as the result of the gap between Genshiken series is not something everyone can experience, especially if they’re not reading the comic as it comes out. Even if that weren’t the case, given time I would’ve reached Madarame’s age anyway. And even if others are around the same age as me, it’s not like people experience the passage of time in the exact same or even similar ways. More importantly, it’s not like my own personal experiences over the past five years are particularly better than others’. Even so, when I think about it a little more, it seems like one of the themes that comes out of Genshiken for the readers as well as the characters is the influence of personal history and how self-perception of time changes accordingly.

Ogiue originally defined herself by the trauma of her time in junior high. It dominated her life before she was eventually able to move on with the help of her friends. Madarame clings to the recent past by leaving his situation with Kasukabe comfortably ambiguous. Kugayama put his half-hearted ambitions aside and decided to just be normal. The first chairman, well, I’m not sure if he existed within time.

For the fans who feel alienated by Genshiken II, their personal definition of what it means to be otaku, and by extension, what it means to be part of a group otaku, has not changed in the five year Genshiken gap. I emphasize once again that there’s nothing wrong with this, and in fact it’s also pretty much where Yajima is at in terms of her own otaku-existential conflict. As for me, I know fully well how much I’ve related to Genshiken and continue to do so, but I also know that a lot has happened in my life since I finished the original series. I’ve defined myself many times on this blog according to how Genshiken has changed my life, but in the face of this new iteration, I find that it doesn’t change me so much as change alongside me.

I Cannot Understand You Mutants

Going to the theater in the Netherlands means, at least for non-domestic works, that films will be shown in their original language and subtitles. The last time I went, I saw The Borrower Arrietty in Japanese with Dutch subs, so when it came to watching an American movie, I figured that I wouldn’t have any trouble beyond ignoring the subtitles. The movie I chose to implement this on was actually X-Men: First Class.

For those of you who have seen this movie, you probably already know that the choice I made was a bit of a mistake, but for those who haven’t seen it, all I have to say is that the movie features many languages that are 100% not-English. At certain points, characters speak Spanish, German, and Russian, and it sure didn’t help my comprehension that the subtitles were (naturally) in Dutch. To the movie’s credit, the acting and the setting gave enough context clues for me to understand what was going on overall, but it’s a unique experience to watch something where the dialogue is in a language you don’t really know, and the translation is in a different, also incomprehensible language.

One interesting difference with movies shown in the Netherlands is that they often come with intermissions, even for a relatively short movie like this one. Of course, the movies were not made with this in mind, so the cut-off point is not built into the film as it was with, say, Gone with the Wind. They do their best to pick a lull in the action to pause the movie, but I have to wonder if anyone out there who’s big into viewer immersion tears their hair out whenever it pops up.

The Appearing and Disappearing Wave of Generational Change in the Meaning of “Fun” in Genshiken II Volume 1/Genshiken Volume 10

Translator’s Introduction: This is a translation of a post by a well-known Japanese anime and manga blogger known as Tamagomago concerning his feelings towards the recent Genshiken revival. As there are certain terms that are very Japanese, as well as information that might not be that well-known to English speakers, I’ve included translation notes at the bottom of this post.

The images used are necessary for the post, but because the originals were in Japanese, I’ve taken the liberty of replacing them with existing English translations. The images are also larger than the ones used in the original post, as the English text would be impossible to read if the images were the same size as the original’s (not as much of a problem with Japanese and its use of kanji).

This is actually also the second otaku and fujoshi-related post from Tamagomago that I’ve translated. The first can be found here, with my response to it available here.

———————-

Genshiken II [Nidaime] Volume 1, aka Genshiken Volume 10 is out.


How I should I put it…

Genshiken Volume 1 came out in 2002.

Has it really been almost 10 years…?


Back when Genshiken was coming out, it was often compared to Kyuukyoku Choujin R.[1]

As individual works they’re completely different, and there’s no use comparing them directly (for starters, R has the Light-Image [Photography] Club, high schoolers, and no particular otaku interests among its members, while Genshiken has the Society for the Study of Modern Visual Culture, college students, and is based around a group of otaku). But when you look at the  different age groups among the members and how there’s something of a generation gap in terms of how they enjoy their hobbies, the above comparison is easier to understand than one might expect. It’s about seeing how they spend their free time having fun.

This was actually discussed so often that I lost count. It’s a part of the history of the 00s.

However, to the younger otaku readers, the world of R was like a heavy burden on them, and the reason is that the senpai [upperclassmen] have an overwhelming presence.

I love Tosaka-senpai and the rest of them, but if you were to say to me, “They’re bothersome senpai,” I certainly wouldn’t be able to deny it.

Not only that, but by comparison, Genshiken‘s Madarame-senpai casts a light shadow, following a philosophy of living peacefully at any cost. When you look at that, it’s really quite cute, but you can also really feel that the senpai-kouhai [upperclassman-lowerclassman] relationship is rather thin.

That’s the first generation gap.


And now this is the second.

The number of people who have admired Genshiken and turned into otaku because of it has increased.

I bet there are people who just read that sentence and thought, “Wait, what?”

They’d say, “‘Become’ an ‘otaku?’ That’s not something you just decide on and then it happens, wouldn’t you say?”

That’s right, but during the 00s, the meaning of the word “otaku” suddenly became unclear. It no longer meant that you were some kind of “outlaw,” and it no longer had a negative connotation in people’s minds. That said, it obviously also depends on who you’re talking to.

The decisive blow came in the doujinshi that Shinofusa Rokurou drew for the special edition of Genshiken Volume 9 (the final volume).[2]

This is pretty much it. I think there’s a lot of people recently who haven’t read or seen Genshiken (since it’s out of print), but you won’t regret reading it. Same with Mozuya-san Gyakujousuru.[3]

Yasuhiko Yoshikazu[4] once said, “To a guy like me who hates otaku, Genshiken is a manga full of love for otaku that’s designed to exterminate otaku.” Those are some really mixed feelings, wouldn’t you say? But I pretty much understand him.

There are now more and more people who aren’t “beautiful despite being otaku” but instead people who are “beautiful while being otaku.” It has nothing to do with physical appearance, nor is it just the end result of ressentiment; rather, what’s changed is that being otaku now means you’re enjoying a “fun hobby.” Genshiken is a work that’s drawn while relatively consciously of this.

It’s not my intention to formulate a theory about why the generations are different after all of this. No matter what I say, what’s most important is to ask oneself, “What do I personally think?” However, I feel that, at the very least, the number of people who can stand in the light and declare, “I’m an otaku!” have risen.

For someone like me who lived in the era of the closet otaku and thought, “I can’t say that I’m an otaku,” this is quite a strange feeling.

Though I’d say what we have now is the healthier scenario.

This divide can be seen in how Genshiken has been drawn. Madarame’s year consists of otaku who are relatively private and who try to conceal their hobbies, unwilling to come out to others about it.

Ohno meanwhile concealed her hobbies as well, but was the type of person who wanted to be able to share them with like-minded individuals.

Kohsaka and Sue just freely and openly show how much of an otaku they are and how much they enjoy it, while Sasahara is the type of person who saw the truth after entering college.

I used to think that Kohsaka’s existence was something of a fantasy, but I realized that people like him actually exist.


Volume 9 came out in 2006. It’s been almost five years.

Now we have Volume 10.

And in it, the characters feel significantly different from how the characters used to be.

If times have changed, then the characters in Genshiken have changed as well, in terms of where they come from and what their points of view may be.

From here on in, I’m going to write a bit about the respective perspectives of the new character Yajima as well as Madarame.


The Impression of a Gap in the New Generation of Genshiken

I think this panel in Nidaime probably makes the contrast easiest to understand.

…Whoa… They’re like… so young!

The three new club members are gathered alongside the old members in Ogiue’s room (i.e. the place where Ogiue produces her manga). Madarame and Sasahara are obviously among the “old boys.”

If you look at the ratio of men to women, you’ll notice that the girls outnumber the guys (though there is a certain exception), and that none of them are particularly concerned with avoiding the others. If you didn’t tell me that this is an otaku circle, I never would have guessed.

Obviously you can say that it’s because this is manga, but still, everyone there looks like they’re having fun.

Among them is one character in particular, sitting on the sofa with a sour look on her face: Yajima.

Among the freshmen, there’s a male crossdresser… or should I say, a “boy-girl.”[5]


What Yajima has to say about all of this is unbelievably cute.

“I’m… quite opposed [very resistant] to it.”


Yajima’s feelings on the matter are, in a certain sense, the bridge between the various conceptions of what it means to “enjoy oneself” within Genshiken. She’s caught in the middle, and it depresses her.

If you look at the previous generation, there was the episode where Madarame was opposed to “stylish fashion” and thought it made no sense. Though he ended up having a change of heart, the way Madarame and Yajima distance themselves is similar.

The term “ota” itself is actually rarely used in Genshiken.

In this volume, the only person other than Yajima to use the term is Ogiue, and it’s the negative meaning of “ota.” Yajima’s line in the above image, “Since we’re all otaku, it doesn’t matter,” pretty much says it all.

On the other hand, you have another new character, Yoshitake (the bespectacled girl in the middle of the sofa), who in contrast to Yajima exclaims, “Female otaku and fujoshi are different!” while using the term positively.

Yoshitake has determined her own status. She considers herself a “fujoshi” and doesn’t hide it. Although Ohno herself had a first step where she realized that it’s better to come out about it, with Yoshitake there wasn’t even a first step to be taken at all.


So as one might expect, neither Yajima nor Ogiue are particularly concerned with fashion. They’re fine with just wearing jeans. Then again, if I compare Ogiue now to how she was in the beginning when she was wearing hoodies, her fashion sense has become more refined. That necktie looks really cute on her! Those jeans though, I don’t really get them.

The “boy-girl” Hato is incredibly stylish. Yoshitake, who also has a relatively varied wardrobe, comes across as a girl with diverse artistic and literary interests. Even Yabusaki from the Manga Society wears a bit of makeup.

Yajima senses this gap and is extremely bothered by it.


Yajima herself originally joins the club because she thought, “I’d sure like to do something fun,” and went with it. She has an inferiority complex, but that also has to do with her otaku hobbies. She’s never been crushed by a traumatic event, nor does she carry any heavy burden.

Unlike Ogiue and Ohno, she never undergoes an intense initiation process.

Even so, she acts strongly on her feeling that there’s a drastic and irreconcilable conflict between what she feels to be an “otaku” and what she sees.

She wonders about how far one should go for the sake of having “fun,” and her heart is perplexed.

In particular, she wonders about the very existence of Hato as a boy-girl.


The Boy-Girl.

Hato as a boy-girl is quite a unique character… or rather, he would be, but recently there have been a surprising increase in people like him. He’s not a “complete fantasy,” which I find interesting.

That said, he’s certainly still unusual.

There is a definite difference between a “boy-girl” and a “male crossdresser.”

To begin with, “male crossdressers” are those who wear women’s clothing even if it doesn’t fit them, or perhaps people who still retain some of their masculinity when donning women’s clothing. However, “boy-girls” are those who, to the best of their ability, completely transform themselves into “girls,” or something close to it. They’ll shave their body hair, and even take great efforts to adapt their voices to be feminine. Recently, you even have terms like “the dual-voiced”[6] to refer to them.

And, this is the most important thing, they consider themselves to be men inside.

At first they seem like they want to become girls, but it’s not like they have any particular romantic interest in men or anything. Instead, they are passionate in their desire to become beautiful.

Their fashion is the result of serious effort.

This is the first reason that Yajima just can’t accept it. “Why are you like that?” she says.

That line feels like it has a lot behind it.

Hato is a man through and through.

As a man, his desire of “I want to become the absolute cutest” gave birth to the female Hato.

Yajima, who is bothered by the thought of “I’m an ota, so I’m awful,” is contrasted with the “this is our hobby and that’s that” attitude of Hato, a boy-girl, and Yoshitake, a berserker girl, both of whom possess not a single regret or doubt about it.

No wait, Hato had an incident that became the trigger for him. However, it’s quite different from Ogiue and the scars she received upon her awakening to BL. While Ogiue had to struggle with her own traumas, Hato easily sublimated himself into his current state.

I suggest actually reading the chapter with this episode in it, but I also think that there is a large gap between what Yajima and Yoshitake thought about it. Yoshitake really understands why Hato wears women’s clothing, whereas Yajima doesn’t get it at all (she thought it was the result of some trauma).

“If it’s fun, it’s fun; that makes it okay, doesn’t it?” That’s the attitude they take, and it allows them to face front and charge ahead.

This is the new world of the kids of the second Genshiken, and it’s become a world that they don’t hide from.

If I could elaborate, Yoshitake and Hato are about thinking “Does it matter if you’re an otaku or not? Whichever is fine.” I might even go so far as to say that they feel otaku-ness to be “just another personal attribute,” about the same as wearing glasses.

It’s because she’s Yoshitake: stylish, wears glasses, and incredibly cheerful. Geez.

Better yet, Yoshitake is like a bullet shell of positivity, a fine mood maker. She seems like she could even say something like “I oink”[7] without a problem.

…I wrote above that I wouldn’t be making any theories concerning generation, but in spite of that “Nidaime” [Second Generation] is still in the title. This is a work which shows how one pursues or enjoys their “otaku hobbies” has changed on an individual level, and it must be intentional on the part of the author.

At this current point in time, I think that there is a line—Madarame-Ogiue-Yajima-Hato—where each of them produces  a feeling of disparity relative to one another. Both the men and the women have disparate levels of recognition which don’t really link up that well with each other, and this work shows the “interesting” results of when they gather in the same place.


No Escape, Ever

So, let’s talk about Madarame.

This time around, I’d been reading the story completely from Yajima’s point of view, but I must say, the cutest person there was Madarame.

It can’t be helped; Madarame’s “boyish” mannerisms are just so cute. I can’t be the only one who thinks this way!

For some reason I want to hug Madarame, even though he’d hate me for it!

The reason that he’s so dear to me is that deep inside, Madarame overwhelmingly feels that it’s “impossible” to act as a “man.”

Now, the girls’ camp has increased in number such that the club atmosphere feels completely different. By comparison, it’s no longer a world where a girl like Saki acts as a counter to the club itself by virtue of “being a girl.”

That’s where Madarame came from, and where he is now.

What is this? It makes me feel unbearably lonesome.

…For Madarame, this is a place that he loves because he loves being able to spend time with his fellow otaku.

And then, he fell in love with a girl named Kasukabe Saki, but he kept it to himself the whole time.


……

Aw man!

Madarame, you’re way too cute! Seriously, you’re like a little boy!

By comparison, someone else has grown along another direction entirely. Certainly, he treasures the connections that were born from here, and he has always valued them, but that was something else, and now he walks an entirely different path.

Personally, I think that Kugapii is incredibly “real.” Despite being reasonably skilled at drawing, he pursued it halfheartedly at best. He then maintained that halfhearted approach all the way to graduation without producing anything outstanding, and now he has a normal, steady job. This character is also dear to me. He’s a really good guy. He works hard and with earnest. Despite his setbacks, he acts exactly as an adult ought to. He prioritizes his work and doesn’t slack off.

In a way, he’s quite the realist.


Madarame, on the other hand, is really a romantic.

This is the scene where Sasahara’s sister told him about how, even though no one’s ever actually mentioned it out loud, Saki definitely had known that Madarame has feelings for her.

(If you look at Volume 9, there’s a part where Sasahara’s sister, Ohno, and Ogiue are all aware of how obvious this is.)

Whether Saki really knew about all of this was not made clear, but even at the end of Volume 9, her behavior was received as that of “someone who evidently knew what was going on but wouldn’t actually say anything about it.”

This is to a large extent how a boy would “perceive” a woman (“I just don’t understand girls!”), but that’s Madarame through and through.

Madarame is lost in a way that might be referred to as stagnation. He’s also becoming a full-on working adult.

But what Sasahara’s sister says is absolutely correct.

For example:

For argument’s sake, let’s say that Madarame gets a girlfriend. He gives the impression that he still wouldn’t throw away those photos of Saki in his possession. This is just my imagination, but Madarame seems like he’d take those photos to the grave.

He would keep those memories safely tucked away. Actually, he’s already doing that.

Madarame: a man who really seems like he would drag a situation out as much as possible.

Along with everything going on with Yajima, I think that, from here, how Madarame will turn out is to be a point of heavy focus in the comic.

If I dare say, I want to believe in this quote from Ohno.

“Not only that, but there’s still plenty of fun to be had!”


In conclusion:

Madarame is cute.

Was Nidaime made so that we could feel moe over how Madarame behaves like such a little boy…?

Well, he also probably feels a vague twinge of loneliness because of the new blood.

This is unrelated, but I guess Madarame is part of the Azunyan faction (from p.183).

———————-

Translation Notes:

[1] Kyuukyoku Choujin R is a manga by Yuuki Masami, which ran in Shounen Sunday from 1985-1987. Its main character is a teenage robot named R. Tanaka Ichirou.

[2] Like Volume 6, there was a special edition Genshiken Volume 9 which came with a bonus doujinshi, though unlike Volume 6 it was not part of the Del Rey release.

[3] Mozuya-san Gyakujousuru is a manga by Shinofusa Rokurou. Running in Monthly Afternoon (the same magazine as Genshiken) since 2008, it is about a girl afflicted by a bipolar disorder named after its discoverer, Dr. Josef Tsundere.

[4] Character designer for Mobile Suit Gundam and many other anime. Currently draws Gundam: The Origin.

[5] The term that “boy-girl” is a translation of the Japanese term “otoko no ko,” (男の娘) which is a play off of the word for boy, “otoko no ko,” (男の子) but which substitutes the Japanese character for “child” for the one for “girl.” Normally in such an instance I would leave the word untranslated, but ecause the wordplay is in the kanji, it would be impossible to distinguish “otoko no ko” from “otoko no ko.” Another possible translation for it is “trap,” though the inherent implications of “trapping” others is why I avoided using that term.

[6] “The dual-voiced” is a translation of “ryouseirui” (両声類), referring to people who can speak in both a lower, masculine voice and a higher, feminine voice.

[7] “Buhireru” (ブヒれる) literally a verb to describe oinking like a pig, implying that one is a disgusting anime fan7

A Nerd of Circumstances, and Better for It

As I get set to return to the United States this month, almost a year since I left, I remember my birthday, where I received a copy of Anne of Green Gables. After that, I never managed to read the whole way through, which is something I’m trying to correct now, but rather than feeling any sort of guilt over not reading it all, it makes me reflect on how my habits have changed from being in a different environment.

In New York, I have the most convenient reason in the world to read a ton: the subway. Commuting to Manhattan takes up a good half-hour to an hour (or more) depending on where you come from, and it’s the perfect opportunity to catch up on manga, to read a novel, to draw, and in my younger days, to do homework. Had I still been living in New York City, I know that I would’ve definitely finished Anne of Green Gables. Same thing with my Pokemon games. I’m a long-time fan of the series, but I haven’t even touched my copy of Pokemon Black yet because of how I never finished Heart Gold, and I refuse to leave a Pokemon game unbeaten. This would’ve been a lot quicker if I had that hour or so to and from Manhattan every day, but alas.

So I ask myself a question, “What do you think of your interests when they can be swayed so easily by circumstance?” To that, I answer myself with “Who the hell is keeping count? I’m the person I always was!” Yes, I’ve taken on certain hobbies and pursued them in ways that are in line with where I was living and where I came from. In New York, I have Japanese bookstores to fuel my collection and a commute to utilize them. In Japan, due to the distances of things, I rode my bike extensively and I watched anime on TV. Here in the Netherlands, I’ve got super-powered internet and a short walk to work. Had I grown up in a mountainous region, maybe I would’ve developed a fondness for rock-climbing. All I know is that these things influence how I function as a person and as a passionate fan of media, and I’m fine with that.

A good analogy for how I’m feeling might be how manga has developed as a black and white comics medium. Manga was originally printed in black and white out of necessity. It’s cheaper than full color and thus easier to mass-produce. From that practical limitation, manga grew out, with artists figuring out ways to best utilize their monochrome palette, including strong usages of negative space and creative application of screentones. Yes, if they had the money to afford full color back then, none of this might have ever happened. But it did, and even if manga were to change to full color now, we at least have that background and history to show us that path

Circumstances exist, but what we make of them is part of what makes life wonderful.

Now I Know What It Feels Like to Be Cardcaptor Sakura

Cardcaptor Sakura is by far one of my favorite anime, and I am quite fond all of its characters, which includes its main heroine, Kinomoto Sakura. Back when I first watched the series though, one thing about her struck me as rather odd. In an early episode, Sakura decides to treat herself with some money she’s saved up. You begin to think, is she going to get a doll, or maybe some kind of dessert or candy? How about a nice dress? But no, Sakura’s gets pancakes. And not even pancakes at a restaurant or something, but pancake mix, and she actually gives away some of her pancakes.

I remember thinking, wow, Sakura, you sure have no idea what it means to indulge yourself.

But recently, I’ve been feeling a bit pressured by impending deadlines, and as I struggle a bit to get my work done, I sometimes think of treating myself. Do I go to a restaurant, maybe get a nice bowl of noodles? Or maybe take a trip out to another city, perhaps even another country? No, instead I say to myself, “I’m going to buy some ground beef!” which as you know is like pancake mix, only made of cows. Sometimes it’s chicken breast.

So there I am, thinking that a delightful reward for myself is food which takes time to prepare and even more time to cook, though thankfully I don’t have an older brother’s friend whom I have a crush on who’d be getting like half of my cheeseburgers.

Sorry, Sakura. I understand you a little better now.

Whatchu Talkin’ ‘Bout

If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past year, it’s that people can enjoy their entertainment for very different reasons, sometimes to the point that they might get offended if you call it “entertainment.” People have differing values outside of the media they consume, and even those who might view anime or manga for similar reasons can have incompatible preferences in the actual titles they prefer. Conversely, people can enjoy the same things for different reasons.

It sounds pretty simple, doesn’t it? Obvious, even. But the scope makes it difficult to wrap my head around entirely. The card makers over at Wizards of the Coast created basic personality profiles for people who play Magic: The Gathering (Timmy who plays for the experience, Johnny who plays to express himself, and Spike who plays to prove himself), but that doesn’t account for all of the people out there who don’t enjoy Magic: The Gathering for whatever reason. There’s differing perceptions of what it means for something to be “realistic,” and then disagreements as to whether or not realism is a good thing. Whenever someone says, “Stop being so critical and just enjoy what you’re watching,” there’s an implicit value judgment even when it’s meant to avoid such things; in this case, the value is about not having to sour a fun experience.

So basically, it’s pretty complicated and I could give endless examples of diametrically opposed ways of viewing art and entertainment if I wanted to.

Knowing this, I then ask myself, what should I do about it? Is there anything to do? I can’t say I have any right answers, but I’d like to talk about my current feelings on this matter.

I think that there is no one “correct” way to enjoy media. The person who loves world-building is as valid an audience member as the person who loves mechanical detail, as is the person who values character development, the person who wants to see in his media a desire to improve society or even the person who loves seeing hot girls. However, that doesn’t mean that one should not judge the media they consume or avoid looking at things critically, as the last thing I want is for people to feel it unnecessary to express their own values. I think everyone (including myself) should just keep in mind that because people watch anime, read books, play video games, etc. for what can be very different reasons, and so when people discuss these matters, they bring a lot of assumptions and preconceived notions with them. This can be all right, but without proper clarity it ends up being extremely difficult to talk with someone who has very different values in regards to entertainment, as if you had two people stranded on separate islands trying to communicate by shouting (and also the water is shark-infested so don’t even try swimming).

I guess what I’m hoping for is the acknowledgement that people can enjoy what they watch for their own reasons, but to prevent that from just meaning that any and all discussions regarding artistic worth (or whatever) just go out the window, and I think the key to this is being able to express why you like the things that you like.

Battle, Fever: Genshiken II, Chapter 64

When last we left the chaotic otaku gathering that is Comic Festival, Ogiue’s past and present were set to collide as Yabusaki and Sue came face to face with Nakajima, Ogiue’s old junior high classmate and the one in some sense responsible for Ogiue’s difficult life since then. While we don’t get the Ogiue-Nakajima confrontation that I expected, Chapter 64 still has a lot to chew on, and it does a lot for all of the characters involved, including Nakajima.

Nakajima (first name Yuuko) introduces herself to Yabusaki and Sue as an old friend of Ogiue’s, made all the more obvious by her Tohoku dialect. Not knowing what to make of each other, they decide to feel each other out, with Nakajima words subtly disparaging Ogiue or expressing mock-wonder at how Ogiue currently is, and Yabusaki not trying to overstep her bounds and say any crass remarks back (Sue is cryptic as always). During the conversation, Nakajima confirms that Ogiue is currently dating someone (Sasahara), and feigns concern in order to tell Yabusaki and Sue about Ogiue’s attempted suicide and how it stemmed from her interest in the boy Makita.

Before Sue can bite Nakajima’s head off, Yabusaki explains to Nakajima that this new information isn’t going to change her opinion of Ogiue at all, and that it’s not surprising that a girl who had a perpetual chip on her shoulder towards her fellow fujoshi and would try to win arguments by leaping out of windows would have some serious problems in the past. She still likes Ogiue as she is. Sue backs her up, giving probably her first heartfelt speech in Genshiken history, though she Sues it up by mentioning the Sasahara x Madarame material that Ogiue had drawn, and that Sasahara had accepted it. Even then, this actually has the effect of making it clear that Ogiue is no longer tied down by her past. At this point, Nakajima chooses to leave, and she barely misses the arrival of Ogiue, or rather, chooses to ignore it. Apparently Nakajima wanted to tell Ogiue about something concerning Makita that would put her at ease, but seems a little bitter that Ogiue managed to carve such a good life out for herself.

Ogiue meanwhile has a 39 degree C (102 F) fever, and is so out of it that she can’t even consciously hide her Tohoku accent. Being in no condition to be outside, Yabusaki dispatches Sue to take her home, where they watch after her until Sasahara can take over. When Yabusaki and Sue (with Nyaako) leave, Ogiue bursts into tears, overwhelmed by the fact that her friends have been so good to her. Sasahara provides gentle support, but also informs her that she can’t attend the rest of ComiFest because of her current condition.

While Chapter 63 was just filled with all sorts of goings-on, this chapter which concentrated mainly on Yabusaki and Sue vs. Nakajima was no less dense, with information both overt and somewhat subtle and examples of really fascinating character psychology from all sides. I think that Ogiue to some extent is still afraid of her past catching up to her, and it warms my heart to see her friends defend her so vigorously and from the heart. It’s actually unclear just how much if anything Ogiue overheard, or if she was even aware in her fever-induced haze that Nakajima was standing there, but either way Ogiue’s tears showed just how much she (correctly) values her friends. It’s not quite the close on Ogiue’s chapter that I had predicted would happen, but it’s still a resolution of sorts, and I’m happy with that.

Sue makes an Excel Saga reference this chapter (“Hail Ilpalazzo!”) While she’s sometimes hard to believe as an American anime fan, this is probably the closest she’s gotten to feeling like the real deal outside of her initial “Anta Baka?” She also seems to be a very good judge of character, as she immediately notices some bad vibes coming off of Nakajima, kind of like Shizuo from Durarara!.

This chapter is also the first time we got to see Ogiue’s original debut scene in the manga from the perspective of Yabusaki and the other girls in the Manga Society. If it wasn’t obvious that the glimmer in Ogiue’s eyes was the result of her coming to terms with her inner demons and beginning her relationship with Sasahara (and not, for example, a stylistic change), this makes it crystal clear by showing Ogiue from Volume 4 with her eyes colored the flat black that used to characterize her.

Things start to get interesting when we read the lack of glimmer as signs of some kind of long-standing inner turmoil, as Nakajima’s eyes resemble Ogiue’s in that manner at certain key moments, particularly when mentioning anything troubling from Ogiue’s past, after which they revert back to normal. We actually don’t know much of anything about Nakajima, and this makes me wonder about her life since her years in junior high with Ogiue. Being a fujoshi (you don’t attend the first day of ComiFest just to torment an old friend), Nakajima may have had to hide that aspect of her life as well, and has been jealous of Ogiue all along, whether it was Ogiue’s ability to get a boyfriend back in junior high, or now with her life as a professional manga artist, where she has a strong group of friends and a supportive boyfriend. Suffice it to say, I think there may be some kind of trauma in Nakajima’s own life that she has yet to resolve for herself. She doesn’t seem like an entirely bad person, as shown by her interaction with her friend Shigeta (first name Mina), who was with her last year when she spotted Ogiue at ComiFest. Shigeta seems more level-headed, but there’s not much to go on, so I’ll reserve any judgment on her.

Trauma is just one possibility. Nakajima’s eyes during those moments could also be a reference to that creepy stare she and her posse laid on Ogiue back then.

What did Nakajima want to tell Ogiue about concerning Makita? It can’t be anything bad, as the reason Nakajima decides not to tell her is that she doesn’t want to make Ogiue’s life any better than it already is. If I had to fathom a guess, I would say that Makita actually did not transfer away because he found himself reading a comic where he was getting it from behind by his best friend, but for some unrelated reason. Does this mean that Makita actually will make an appearance again at some point in the comic? I’m not sure how I feel about that, but I am open to the possibility.

The chapter ends on Madarame, who is feeling not as excited about ComiFest as he thinks he should be. Is it a possible sign that he’s growing old, the beginning of the end for Madarame as otaku? That might be the case in a certain sense, as Angela seems to have him in her sights.

How do you feel about Americans, Madarame, particularly one who like both girls and boys?

Takekuma x Akamatsu, A Must-Read Discussion of the Future of Manga

Kransom over at 2chan.us (formerly known as Welcome Datacomp) has posted a translation of a fantastic discussion between Akamatsu Ken, author of Love Hina and Negima!, and Takekuma Kentarou, co-author of Even a Monkey Can Draw Manga, manga editor, and professor at Kyoto Seika University. The two of them talk about their mutual forecasts of a collapsing manga publishing industry, as well as their widely varying opinions on what they think should be done to correct that. I highly recommend reading all five parts.

They touch on a great number of topics, including the origin of Akamatsu’s J-Comi site and Takekuma’s research into how Shounen Jump became king as an indirect result of the 1973 Oil Crisis, but one of the particularly interesting topics they discuss how the roles of artists and editors may change in an age where big manga publishers such as Shueisha and Kodansha might not even exist. Akamatsu, rather than being the stereotypical artist who cares little for profit, is incredibly practical and sales-oriented, whereas Takekuma concerns himself more with thinking about what the artists want to do.

The danger of self-publishing, be it in a printed book format or as something viewed online or on an e-book reader is that there is a lack of quality control. While the environment that Takekuma and Akamatsu are thinking about is not quite at that point, the common idea here is that a lack of editorial feedback is something which can limit the success of both a weaker manga industry as well as a self-published title. Both Takekuma and Akamatsu agree to the importance of editors, and believe that the key will be an increase in freelance editors who, rather than being able to rely on a salaried position at a publishing company, will have to make a living by showing their skills at fostering talent. They’ll also have to act somewhat as agents for their independent artists, or if not, the artists themselves have to be their own agents. Those who can only draw will not survive, not only because they won’t know how to market themselves, but because they won’t be compatible with this new breed of editor.

I can’t help but think about the power structure that would exist should such a system come into existence. Ideally, the artists, editors (freelance or otherwise), and publishers will all regard each other as equally important in the whole process, but I get the feeling that it wouldn’t quite turn out that way. Granted, the role of editor and artist even now is not consistent across each publishing company, so it’s not like the manga industry would be changing from one universal form to another, but the fact that the manga industry would, in Takekuma’s view, become even more free-market, especially for editors, makes me picture some kind of wild west frontier for manga. Again, this has its benefits, but as Akamatsu points out, one of the benefits of manga is that compared to making a television series or even an anime, making a manga is much less expensive, and so a greater variety of ideas can be explored with less risk to those involved.

If the manga industry does get to a level where those involved with manga have to put more on the line to get published, there is a chance that it might stifle one of the great strengths of manga, and I doubt the artists who tend to be so overworked will have any less of a burden on them. In the face of this, Takekuma’s point that we may see many more manga artists with modest salaries instead of wealthier artists (Akamatsu, for example) may simply be the result of a changing perception of what it means to be “successful” manga.

Madoka Magica and…Sacrifice?

Puella Magi Madoka Magica has come and gone, and it’s going to be a subject of much discussion. Part of it may simply be that the delay caused by the earthquake in tsunami Japan magnified the anticipation for the finale even more than the already huge expectations for the show, but I think this anime is going to stick in people’s minds for at least the near future. Though the show has its flaws, overly expository dialogue and some contrived twists to name a couple, I found it to be an overall strong show and indeed an interesting twist on the magical girl genre that understands what magical girls are about.

I’m going to be discussing the show and its ending in depth, so take this as the Spoiler Warning.

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Preventing Anime Burn-Out

Every so often I’ve been asked how not to burn out on anime, but I haven’t been able to formulate a proper response. Sure, I’ve talked about how to not burn out on anime blogging, but nothing tackling the beast itself. With the new season starting up though, I figured now was as good a time as any to address that malady which afflicts so many otaku and their disposition towards anime. It won’t be a sure-fire guide to preventing burn-out, but I think it’ll at least help get you somewhere in the realm of a right mind.

I’ve never really burned out on anime, so in the sense that I have never hit the bottom and risen back up to fight another day, I may not be entirely qualified to talk about avoiding burn-out. However, I do have times when the act of watching anime can seem overwhelming, as well as times when I just don’t feel like watching anything or feel myself not enjoying what I’m watching as much. One such moment occurred a couple of months ago, as I found my attention was drifting away while watching Creamy Mami. I had some other shows I was watching at the time, but I was feeling a stronger desire to check out competitive Starcraft II matches. I had to ask myself, was it really happening? Was I really getting tired of anime?

Then I remembered that just the day before I was being riveted by Legend of the Galactic Heroes. I had an untouched full series of Ojamajo Doremi Sharp that I know I would enjoy but hadn’t gotten around to yet. The fantastic Heartcatch Precure had just finished or was about to finish, and I’d just been enjoying Star Driver since the fall season. I also knew that some of the shows I was ignoring in favor of watching Nada siege tank someone to death were not shows I was chomping at the bit to follow…at that moment. Things could change given a couple of days. Rather than finding myself in the beginning stages of anime burn-out, I realized that I was simply being incredibly short-sighted.

It’s easy to trick yourself into dwelling on the negative experiences. Remembering the bad more than the good, it then can cause you to create unfair demands for anime because they’re based on a desperation to be knocked out of your funk, and when the next batch of shows don’t rescue you from yourself, the burn-out becomes that much worse.

So then, how do you stop that from happening?

If you’re worrying about the shows in the here and now, I think it’s a good idea to just take a mental step back and look at the shows you’d been watching previously. I know that on the internet and among anime fandom there’s a tendency to quickly forget anime after it has finished airing, but don’t be like me and get caught up in your own myopia. One year ago isn’t that long a period of time, let alone three to six months ago.

Don’t be afraid to stop watching those specific anime that seem to be dragging for you and to replace them with something you think you’d enjoy more. If you’re not sure whether you actually dislike a show or if you’re just not feeling it, put it on the back burner for a while. If it’s a current show that you’ve been keeping up with week after week, don’t get so attached to the rat race that watching it becomes more of a chore than anything else. See if you can come back to it a few weeks or even a few months later, when you’re feeling sharper. If you must keep up with it as it airs, and I have to again recommend you not fall into this trap, let it run as you’re doing other things. A lot of television in general is made with the assumption that its audience will not always be paying full attention.

Anime burn-out is largely psychological. How you define it is ultimately up to you. If you find the amount of shows you’re interested in dwindling, it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re not enjoying anime anymore, it can just mean you’re watching fewer shows. If you’re not feeling any of the shows currently running, don’t be afraid to look backwards, to older anime. If you’re really finding nothing to watch, perhaps think about what it is exactly you’re looking for. Whether you’re following ten shows or just one or are even deciding not to watch any anime for a little while, the quantity of anime doesn’t have to define your interest in anime or your identity as an anime fan.