Bad Writing vs Bad Translation

The Eureka Seven manga was released by Bandai Entertainment alongside their anime release. For those of you who haven’t read the manga but have seen the anime, it’s a different take on things with I think less solid storytelling but still has its good points. However, the dialogue in the English language version was often very awkward-sounding. It didn’t sound like people actually talking. Lines which were supposed to be “cool” or “dramatic” ended up landing with wet thuds. I had read a bit of the manga in Japanese prior, but as I finished it up with the English release, the flow of language in it continued to bother me. I had to wonder then, was it the translation, or was the original writing simply that stilted and it was my lack of complete Japanese fluency that didn’t notice it originally?

Whenever I read a translated manga where the dialogue seems off or unusually poor, I have to wonder where the blame lies, seeing as how there are so many people and factors involved. You have the original writer, writing in their native language, coming from their own culture, and then you have the translator, adapting to their own native language, keeping their own culture and readership in mind for just how much they change or allow to remain “as is.”

Is it that the translation is bad? Or is it that the writing wasn’t so great in the first place? And if the writing is bad, do you massage it until it becomes fine and readable English prose? It sort of goes beyond the literal accuracy vs spiritual accuracy argument when you have to factor in a source which may not be regarded as the pinnacle of literary talent. And it’s something that without proper research can be difficult to detect, aside from a few obvious examples where you can just tell the translator was struggling with a very Japanese-sounding sentence. “The burning passionately me now challenges you to a duel!” That sort of thing.

And then you throw money into the mix.

Let’s say that you’re a translator (and who knows, maybe you are!), and you’re giving the script to some work with achingly bad dialogue, like say, Government Crime Investigation Agent Zaizen Jotaro, and as much as you think there are definitely better works out there, you’ve been handed this and your company’s supposed to make a profit off of it. Do you try your best to salvage the bad writing and make it presentable? Or do you show it for what it is? And if so, are you prepared for idiots like me to accuse you of doing a poor translation?

The Thing Which Makes You Think, “Ah Yes, This is an American Comic”

In the comments section for kransom’s translation of Takekuma Kentaro’s lecture on Miyazaki, a lot of talk is brought up regarding styles and trends according to where the artist is from or where the artist draws their inspiration from. Specifically, the comments center around Miyazaki’s style being similar to that of European artists. Commenter JBR states, “Nausicaa is very similar, in many ways, to the European avant-guard [sic] comics of the 1970’s/80’s, which also emphasize densely-constructed panels and attention to background detail.”

So if the emphasis on European comics is on these “densely-constructed panels and attention to background detail” (something that rings true even for comics that aren’t avantgarde), and the priorities for Japanese story comics is in having the panels be “easy to read” with respect to how panels flow into each other and other aspects, I had to ask myself, “What is the primary feature of American comics, specifically comic books, that makes it stand out?” What, in other words, is the aspect that artists and fans can draw from to make a comic feel very American?

Thinking it over, I’d have to say that I believe that traditionally, the primary feature of American comics is the desire to convey a complete amount of information in a single panel, to really inform the reader that, yes, this is going on right now exactly as you see it. Characters’ poses and actions in relation to text and background all work together to provide a sort of storytelling clarity that some might even regard as overly busy. You know where that foot is going. You know exactly what the characters are doing. You know what is going on in a given scene, as if every panel were an incident in and of itself. Some might say this is the problem with American comics, but I think that wanting to present information in your comic in complete chunks has its merits, in the way radio dramas of yesterday and cd dramas of today do. Of course, I say “traditional” because as comics artists from all over the world interact with each other these differences start to recede, but I think you can still see them in today’s comics.

I’m well aware that there are comics that do not do this, and that even in the comics that do there are plenty of panels which are more for conveying a mood or some other function. I’m also aware that all the visual examples are from superhero comics, and that there’s an entire indie comics scene out there, and famous artists such as Dave Sim, Robert Crumb, Chris Ware, Art Spiegelman, and even Brian Lee O’Malley who do not abide to this “rule” if you can call it one. However, I do feel that this is the aspect of American comics which people remember the most, whether they’re long-time fans or new readers, these panels designed to exist on their own if they have to, but also function as part of a whole.

Idea: A Comprehensive Guide to Essential Episodes

Mazinger Z. Galaxy Express 999. Ranma 1/2. Astro Boy. There are a lot of anime out there that are considered classics (and rightfully so), but the problem with getting into them is that they can be very, very long with anywhere from forty to two-hundred episodes and beyond. Because of this, trying to experience what made these shows great becomes a daunting task, especially when not all of them are “serial,” and instead have large chunks which are simply episodic and, while perhaps decent episodes, are not the ones that can really grab people by the heart and the lungs.

What I am proposing then is that a guide to these long shows be made, pointing out the episodes which are considered, while perhaps not “necessary” to the viewing experience, to be the apex of the show. That way, anybody who just wants to sample the show but in a meaningful way (not just watch the first episode or two and be done with it) can do so and fully understand the reasons that show is called a classic.

But I can’t do it alone.

When the main focus is to be absurdly long shows, no one person can watch everything to make sure that all bases are covered. I would need help. Possibly, I would have to get one or two people watching any given show and have them report back to me what they consider to be the “big” episodes, and then check it out myself to see just how good they are. Something like that.

Maybe this can apply to manga too.

I don’t have any episode lists to recommend at the moment, but I-

Wait, maybe I do.

LEGEND OF THE GALACTIC HEROES
RECOMMENDED EPISODES: 1-110

(Seriously, watch the entire show)

My Response to Tamagomago’s “Otaku Girl Moe”

Yesterday I posted my translation of Japanese blogger Tamagomago‘s post about the moefication of the “Otaku Girl.” This is my own follow-up to it, and how I feel about the various themes and ideas put forth by Tamagomago.

While I think the threat of otaku confusing reality with fantasy is not that likely for the most part, I do see how “Otaku Girl Moe” is different from most other types of moe, with the possible exception of “Imouto Moe, ” though that mistake can be quickly dispeled by interacting with real little sisters. Otaku Girls actually exist in the real world and are in a sense closely related to Otaku Guys, so the line between fantasy and reality can blur quite a bit. It’s sort of like how most people probably wouldn’t realize that a model’s photo was airbrushed, or that the situations that occur in porn have very little chance of actually happening, but because we associate those things with “reality,” e.g. photos are realistic, we as people can be susceptible to their illusion.

Basically, while I don’t think there’s an immediate danger involving confusing the Otaku Girls in Anime with Otaku Girls in real life, there is a sort of precedent.

I of course also agree with the notion that as strong a character and as realistic as Ogiue is, she’s still just a character in a story. Though I can still hope…!

Another interesting point Tamagomago talks about is what I translated as the “exceedingly shaky” foundation upon which otaku build their preferences for women. I mentioned an earlier example of confusing fantasy with reality, but this one is particularly interesting as it’s almost an inverted example from the one above.

What we have is a situation where an otaku will take a realistic goal, i.e. finding a girl that can relate to them, and using their doubts and fears to transform it into an impossible dream. In other words, they’ve taken what is real and confused it for fantasy, something not talked about quite as often in these conversations about moe we have on this internet.

Of course, the part that generated the most conversation was where Tamagomago said that the act of calling someone moe is “violent” because it strips them of their individuality. Perhaps it was my translation not being completely clear, but the point that Tamagomago was trying to get across was that real people are not anime characters. It’s kind of an obvious thing to say, but within the context of moe you’re using a term associated with fiction and fictional characters and attaching it to real human beings with real depth and personalities. Let’s forget the word moe for a second, and instead imagine that I was talking about one of my female friends and I said, “Her character development is excellent!” It’s still a compliment, but it’s kind of bizarre to use that kind of language with an actual girl.

One more note, I don’t really think calling girls fujoshi is that bad, especially as it’s taken on this specific meaning of “yaoi fangirl.” Words in languages are malleable things as much as some would like to disgree, and the word “otaku” is a perfect example of this as its negative properties have fluctuated over the years. It’s like, I know that the word decimate originally meant “reduce by 10%.” Do I care? Not at all.

So in conclusion, I can’t wait for Hirano Kouta to knock down Tamagomago’s door for daring to say that there’s no such thing as Otaku Guy Moe.

Lady Boobsalot and the Gluteus Gladius

With American comics and animation you’ve got Vampirella, Lady Death, Heavy Metal, and Witchblade.

With Japanese manga and anime you’ve got Ikkitousen, Queen’s Blade, Grenadier, …and Witchblade.

All of these titles and more center around buxom ladies kicking ass and taking names but always being just on the other side of emasculating so that we as guys can picture them in our fantasies, if that’s the sort of thing we’re into.

I can throw around all sorts of descriptive terms, like fanservice, cheesecake, girls in metal bikinis, girl power, but is there a specific name for this genre?

If not, I propose a few.

“Swordcake”

“Tit Fighter”

“Action Cleavage Boobs Fest”

Or perhaps, as one friend suggested, “Softcore.”

Deceptive Marketing and Copywriting

“In the future, boys will be boys and girls will be robots!”

“A story of love, dreams, and perseverance.”

“Slowly, Satou comes out of his reclusive shell, and his hilarious journey begins, filled with mistaken identity, Lolita complexes—and an ultimate quest to create the greatest hentai game ever!”

The above quotes are taken from an ad for Chobits, an ad for The Story of Saiunkoku, and the official synopsis of Welcome to the NHK, respectively. And while they’ve all got a certain catchiness or punch to them, anyone who’s seen these shows will tell you that, while the words in each are on some level true, they don’t really convey the complete appeal or feel of their stories.

I’m not exactly sure how I feel about this, other than the general sense that companies advertise their own anime and manga poorly, but maybe that’s merely by my own standards. I do fear that there is always a very real chance that because of the misleading advertising that it might lead some people to miss a show they might otherwise watch, or might lead to misunderstandings when a show doesn’t do well. To use a non-anime example, Avatar: The Last Airbender was marketed as if it were for young kids, but the story was sophisticated enough that it would at the very least be more suitable for young adult viewers. And, surprise, that’s where a lot of its hardcore fanbase is. First Gundam also had a similar problem where its initial run in Japan was not successful but when it caught the attention of older (as in older than 10) viewers, it picked up steam.

Is it all right to, in some sense, trick people into reading your book or watching your show? Is it simply a case that if you told most people that Saiunkoku was like, political shoujo, that it would turn most people away? Is this why Honey and Clover appears in Shoujo Beat when it’s targeted towards older female readers?

In that respect, does this sort of thing actually work? Is it actually pulling in new people who would be turned away from these works normally? Or is it perhaps turning people away who would otherwise be interested in reading the somewhat depressing story of a drug-abusing shut-in who feels his life is all but worthless?


This Has Nothing to Do with Nissan

So after  submitting my entry for NYAF’s mascot competition, I’ve been looking around at the other entries. Regardless of age, talent, creativity, whatever, I can really feel that everybody who submitted a design put effort into their creations.

I don’t think anybody plagiarized or stole from anyone else (though there’s a few questionable designs copyright-wise), so I find it interesting to see what recurring themes there are among the entries. I mean, there’s only so many things you can positively associate with New York, and I’m certainly not the only one who decided to approach it from the subway angle. What I find particularly interesting though is the large number of entries that somehow incorporated the Manhattan Skyline into their mascots, especially in the clothes. The reason I find it interesting is that it had not occurred to me at all to associate New York with the skyline.

I’m a native New Yorker, born and raised in Brooklyn and Queens, and have spent much of my years in Manhattan, be it for school or to be with friends. With that in mind, I have to wonder if maybe growing up in NYC I’ve simply gotten too used to the number of tall buildings around. It’s easy to forget that there are places that aren’t like this, or that this feature of NYC would stand out in people’s minds.

As someone who grew up in New York, as someone who used the subway daily for years on end, I felt a more tangible connection to the underground than to the skies above, and it was something I could embrace and appreciate more, hence Chika’s design and the vague hints at her personality I gave in her information.

Second place for interesting recurring themes was taxis, which I also did not associate with NYC for similar reason to the skylines, but I’ve been told by certain people that NYC is apparently the only place you can just wave down a taxi. You learn something every day!

The False Positive Pitfall in Discussion of Anime and Manga

“Intertextuality” is the idea that there is a conceptual space where ideas brought forth by books, movies, texts, etc. interact with each other. One way to think about it is the old addage that the “truth lies somewhere in between.” This is the space where differing (or similar!) opinions confront each other. Don’t think about it too literally, but with the internet available, it’s become a lot easier to have this sort of thing happen beyond the scholarly journals and academic settings where this sort of thing usually occurs.

As anyone who has read Ogiue Maniax probably knows, I quite enjoy finding and seeing any connections which may connect one aspect of anime to another, be it from show to show, or from staff to real world events or whatever, and it’s something that’s consumed my time and the direction in which my hobby has gone. I think I’m pretty good at it, and apparently others do too.

However, there’s a drawback to having an open mind which actively seeks out connections among the material you’ve ingested mentally. Sometimes what happens is you see connections that do not exist, but because of the success you or others have had in taking this approach to a topic, it becomes difficult to break free of this trap. In other words, sometimes we tend to overthink things. This is what I call the “False Positive Pitfall,” and it’s something I feel anyone academically-minded towards anime and manga (or any other topic for that matter) has to watch out for. Failure to acknowledge this effect can result in a number of problems, from undermining your writing to being seen as unnecessarily elitist to simply leading you down the wrong path until all you see is false positives and you become a case where you’re an anime reviewer everyone makes fun of because you have no idea what the hell you’re talking about anymore.

Now, I’m not immune to this at all, and there’s multiple instances of statements made out of false positives that are on this blog. But people aren’t perfect, and even if you’re constantly on the lookout for them, some are bound to slip through, especially as your knowledge of anime and manga expands. Again, it’s more that I want people to be wary of the False Positive so that we can foster better discussion that is both relevant and respectful to the topics we engage.

Mine Characters, Aye

While bored on the train, I decided to do a quick (not-to-scale) sketch of a lot of the characters whom I considered to be “main” or “important” characters in the stories and worlds I made up growing up all the way up until now. If you see any recurring themes in certain characters, well, that’s because I like certain things. I will not say that all of these were good ideas. Some concepts are better than others.

1. I don’t remember her name. She had the ability to “defy” laws of conservation of matter by tapping into the energy of an alternate dimension. Key point is her headband. Came up with her around the age of 16.

2. A pillow man based on the pillow I slept with when I was very little. He had a gun and his own video game where he fought enemies like a piranha man with tank treads for legs and a guy with satellites for arms. Probably my earliest character from when I was about 4 or 5.

3. The Victim. Co-created with a friend based on a calendar we got for class, the Victim is a dim-witted, optimistic fellow prone to getting himself in life-threatening, violent situations. Around age 10 or 11.

4. Peanutty. A peanut person. Liked to use anvils. Also created around 10 or 11, but before the Victim.

5. Tentsuki Akiko. You can tell by the psuedo-Japanese name that this was during a time when I started getting into anime. She’s a school girl and giant robot pilot, with her robot resembling somewhat the Aestivalis from Nadesico. Created probably age 15 or 16.

6. King HIV. Final boss of a video game about the immune system. Wears  crown. Created in 3rd grade. Seriously, not even kidding about this.

7. Alex Bellberry. Male bounty hunter who is very bitter about his effeminate looks. Around age 17 I believe.

8. Name undecided. The latest main character for an upcoming comic. She’s interested in the truth. Created just this year.

9. A magician girl whose name I forgot. Carries a staff. Created around age 15 or 16.

10. Super Six. He’s a muscular half-butterfly, half-man with 6 arms each of which have a weapon on them, ranging from a stinger to a can of insecticide. Created when I was about 5 or 6.

11. Sylvia North. A cheerful, intelligent girl who flies around in a modified garbage can and delivers garbage to those in need. Created at age 20-21.

12. Blink, co-created with the friend who drew Victim comics with me. Blink and his twin sister are the main characters of a puzzle platformer where they have to defeat an evil mosquito named Mr. P. Created around age 10.

13. Elyuna. A sickly girl whose disease happens to give her the perfect physiology to make an alien giant robot think she is a member of the alien race it came from. Created around age 18 or 19.

Examples of Anime’s Cel to Digital Conversion

Though much less frequent these days as the anime industry has all but completely converted to using digital means to animate shows (Sazae-san I believe is an exception which still uses cels), it wasn’t so long ago that debates about the merits of cel animation vs digital animation were a common sight among certain groups of otaku. Those on the side of cels would accuse digital animation of lacking life and energy, those on the side of digital would ask the cel supporters why they liked having dust on their animation frames so much. These days, I think it’s fair to say that much like 2d vs 3d animation, or drawing with paper vs drawing with a tablet, each has its own merits.

It can be difficult to compare digital to cel in the sense that usually entire shows have been done one way or the other, but there are a few which were made during that transitional period between cel and digital, and so they too are transitional. A brief list follows, if you want to take a closer look.

1) The Big O

Season 1 was done with cel animation, the Cartoon Network-sponsored Season 2 was done entirely digitally. Some will say that the second season lacked something the first had in terms of visuals, possibly that everything feels too “clean.” Judge for yourself.

2) Galaxy Angel

Again, Season 1 was all cel while for Season 2 Broccoli decided to go digital. They also decided to cover up Forte Stollen’s cleavage but that’s a discussion for another time.

3) JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure (Stardust Crusaders)

In an odd twist, the later parts of the manga were animated in the 90s while the earlier parts were animated in the 2000s. Watching this show in chronological order can be very unusual.

4) Gaogaigar Final

Now this was really meant to be a big budget OVA and it shows. Gaogaigar Final began production in 1999 (with the first episode out in 2000), and ended in 2003. Being an OVA, there was a long period between each episode, so the jump to digital is rather sudden when watched side to side. This is probably the one that best exemplifies the power of both cel and digital animation.