Archive for the Now This Is Only My Opinion Category


Pride For My Queer Otaku Family

June 16th, 2020

I like this one for the feels this series made so many of us feel.

 

When Pride Month 2020 began, I was absolutely, positively sure that we would not be celebrating. I believed, from the very depths of my heart, that this Pride Month, would be about enduring, about protesting, about reminding the world that we were still here, still queer and still shouting about the same exact kind of police violence against black and trans bodies that sparked the Stonewall Uprising. I began this month on Twitter by promoting black otaku voices. I ended up following a whole bunch of amazing writers and made a couple of new otaku friends. It was only one thread, but it has become an entire skein of relationships.

This week, I was reminded that last year I posted a queer manga a day for Pride month. It was a lot of work, but it was such an amazing feeling knowing that there was so much great queer manga out there and so much of it already in English. I had thought about doing that again, but it felt totally wrong in light of the protests across this country. To some extent, these are the same protests, the same protest we have been having since the Women’s Suffrage March, since the Selma to Montgomery, Stonewall, the Women’s March and Occupy Wall Street, even. This is the march of progress, a march of defiance of hatred and violence from the authorities, of toxic masculinity and predatory capitalism. BUT – and this is a big BUT – recent protests are also very specific protests against a specific war being waged specifically on black Americans right now. This is the legacy of the slavery and violence upon which this country was founded. This is the legacy of Jim Crow and the KKK and the Lost Cause Doctrine. And I didn’t feel entirely right about obscuring the protests against police violence and with some frippery.

And then, incredibly, the Supreme Court of the United States, this week, has affirmed employee rights for LGBTQ Americans. And while the gay community has fought hard for this, frippery is also kind of our thing (as it is the otaku thing.) As a queer otaku I thought, fuck it, I’m going to celebrate Pride month somehow.

I thought hard about how I wanted to celebrate my immense pride in my queer otaku family, without stepping on anyone’s neck to do it. And I think I came up with the right way, but first I want to just tell you how proud I am of all of you. Those of you who have come out, and everything it cost you to do that. Those of you who have not and everything that it is costing you to do that. I am very proud of my queer, LGBTQ+, Gender and Sexual Minority otaku family. You are a delightful and fun and funny, you make my fandom full of glitter and joy.

On Twitter I have started a new thread:

So if you are a queer otaku and have a thing you want shared (except for fansubs or scanlations, because please don’t,) jump on that Twitter thread and I will RT and share! If you just want to say ‘hi’ in the comments, that’s fine, but I will ask straight allies to please be mindful that this is a party and today is not the time to talk about you, your allyship or the dismal state of LGBTQ rights elsewhere. We know. We’re working on it and right this second, in the middle of all the stupidest dystopian plots colliding in a maelstrom of hellish news, we’re taking a day off.

So…almost unbelievably, happy Pride month, my beloved queer otakus. I’m so very proud of everything you’ve accomplished. ^_^





Deep Dive into Ghost in the Shell, Visual Media 1995-2020

April 19th, 2020

On April 23, 2020, a new iteration of Ghost in the Shell franchise, Ghost in the Shell, SAC_2045, will launch on Netflix. But that is merely a coincidence in regards to this article. I have wanted to do a massive overview of all of the Ghost in the Shell media for years. In fact, I conceived of this idea back in 2008, when I introduced the film Ghost in the Shell: Innocence at the Brooklyn Museum of Art

Update: I have attempted, and failed in a similar analysis of the manga franchise as of August 2020 in The Future is Always Obsolete: Ghost In the Shell Manga Franchise.

Since we are all home for the duration, I took it upon myself to re-watch all of the Ghost in the Shell visual franchise in the order in which it was created. I chose this path because the nature of the story makes it nearly impossible to create a linear chronology. Instead, what I have found is three separate functional verticals of visual media:

The movies – which are all, ultimately, homage to the first movie. (There are homages to the movies in the TV series as well, but not as concentrated as in the movies.)

The television series Stand-Alone Complex, which is, after watching everything, still the only one I’d recommend to anyone expressing interest in this franchise.

The OVA, then television series, Arise, which significantly rewrites earlier points so is effectively an alternate universe/timeline completely. A 2015 stage play was based on Arise.

Here are my mostly free-form thoughts about the media as I watched it, talked about it on social media and thought out loud about it.  I plan on doing a similar overview for all the manga iterations in a second part. This article presumes you have at least a passing familiarity with the Ghost in the Shell franchise; characters plot(s), etc. If you do not, I recommend the Ghost in the Shell Wikipedia entry for background.

So here we go, a Deep Dive into Ghost in the Shell: Visual Media 1995-2020

 


 

Ghost in the Shell (1995): Directed by Mamoru Oshii, written by Kazunori Itou. Based on Masamune Shirow’s manga, this movie established almost all the key visual elements of this series which will be replayed and reconfigured over and over and over in every subsequent iteration. It also established the franchise belonging to Oshii as much as it did to Shirow. Shirow’s love of technology and its symbiotic connection with human consciousness is meshed with Oshii’s love of philosophical discourse on the nature of humanity, creating a dialogue that will continue to be replayed for the next 25 years.

That said, this movie is the proto-incel movie of the ages, with a constant stream of women’s naked bodies, often violently dis-articulated, mannequins without agency or will, some faffing about the meaning of “humanity,” detailed backgrounds and cool lead characters doing action-y things. It’s basically unwatchably dull if you try and *watch* it.  ^_^

What most fans liked about it are those very key visual elements that will be rehashed endlessly: The opening segment that shows a female cyborg body being built;  Kusanagi jumping off the building functionally naked; Sexaroids attacking clients; Kusanagi ripping her arm pulling open a mecha, and, finally, Kusanagi rendered into an inert torso, talking about procreation and immortality with another entity in a disembodied head. 

Kusanagi talking with Batou about her existence after scuba diving, becomes an important scene. This scene not only comes back later, it births the kernel of the plot for the 2017 live action movie. The Major muses in the original movie about not knowing if there was a “real” Kusanagi Motoko before her; maybe there was an accident and her personality was stolen. This is one of several possible histories given to Kusanagi through various iterations. Most importantly for this article, it is in this scene that Batou states plainly that the Major’s cyborg body does not legally belong to her and if she retired it would revert to the government. I imagine that we are to assume that should she choose this option, she could have her brain transferred to a civilian model, but it is not made explicit. 

Watching this movie now, it becomes clear that a murder mystery, political intrigue and stultifying expressions of selfhood, combined with detailed animation, made a lasting emotional impression on generations of viewers.

 

Ghost in the Shell: Standalone Complex, First Gig (2002-2003): Directed and Written by Kamiyama Kenji.

For this first time away from Oshii’s shadow, the characters feel more like the characters from the original manga, with in-jokes, personal lives, senses of humor. That they busted each other was part of what we love about the original manga. There was very little humor in the movie. Here, everyone teases Batou, even the Tachikoma. 

The plot is pleasantly outside the same old set up of the original’s obsession with self. A little less fetishizing of the female body, but not much. There’s more time to make the characters feel human, and to deal with the life parts of their lives.

The Tachikoma lighten the mood – then darken it. They get the “am I real” conversations and their evolution from machines to “people” in real time is devastating. It’s like watching pets age from babies to dying of old age in 26 episodes.

The story is good, and for the first time, the story and the technology appear to be linked inextricably, instead of the plot being a murder mystery with technology. 

 

Ghost in the Shell: Standalone Complex, 2nd Gig (2004-2005): Directed and written by Kamiyama Kenji.

I remembered  2nd Gig as being my favorite, but now that I have re-watched it, I remember why. Everyone has personality; the Major has some backstory, Paz, Bohma and Saito actually get lines*, the Tachikoma are the humanest of them all. All the “what does it meant to be a human?” is actually tied into a plot and not just random waste-of-animation musing, like it will be/was in Innocence.

This series is the closest to an ensemble cast we’ve seen up to this point. The story is  convoluted and shows signs of using random quotes from obscure authors as a plot point, a McGuffin and pointless waste of time all at once…. a narrative element that stuffs Innocence to impossible density. This series proposes another possible history for Kusanagi’s backstory.

Because Kuze exhorts Kusanagi to leave her physical body due to it’s limitations – one of which is that it does not belong to her – I feel that this is the closest thing to a lead-in Innocence has. Perhaps Kuze’s appeal in SAC:2nd Gig resonates with Kusanagi in a way that the Puppet Master’s did not because she feels an affinity for Kuze, which we’ll touch on later when we talk about her history

Animation is generally good in SAC, backgrounds don’t get that crazy detail they get in the movies, but the people fare better overall.

If anyone is asking me, at this point, Stand Alone Complex is by far and away the best iteration. It has enough of the things you vaguely remember from the movie, and enough of the best bits of the manga characters that it’s approachable and fun and *human*. This series ends where the manga begins, which is another nice tie-in.

I enjoy the music from this series the most, as well. Both OPs are excellent and are the only music from this series I have in my collection.

*Imagine being cast as Paz and telling your mother. “Hey Mom! I got cast in one of the most famous series in the world! No, no lines but sometimes I get to say “Roger.”

 

Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence, (2004) Directed and written by Mamoru Oshii. I absolutely love this movie, but am well aware that it is densely packed with obscure references rather than having a plot, and, while extremely beautiful, not really a “fun” movie at all. The title is slightly confusing, too, as Ghost in the Shell 2.0 was the 2008 remake.

Innocence: Look at this multi-million dollar animated scene of a detailed Gothic structure at ridiculously high resolution and detail!

Also Innocence: Let’s use our massive animation budget to show the same scene of two guys not moving…three times.

There is a nod in the opening to being chronologically after SAC 2nd Gig, but not specifically in the same timeline. Innocence still insists that the Major did not own her body; this was part of the drive for the Major to upload herself into the net, before Innocence begins. 

Innocence is a series of visual callbacks to the original movie, and is almost wholly divorced from the manga. Indeed, it is wholly divorced from Kusanagi at all.  So, while the usual visual relics aren’t in this movie, we get a lot of the background events reworked. The floats parading through the streets is breathtakingly beautiful…and the music throughout is obviously a nod to the original movie.  At hi-res, the CGI in Innocence is outstanding. The animation is almost uncanny valley in places. I probably watched this movie on my home screen in higher resolution than I saw it in the theater the first time. ^_^ This deserves the highest resolution possible, just to take in the excruciating visual detail.

The bulk of the series is a giant game of “guess the reference.” Quotes and visual cues clog up the dialog to the point of making it all but impossible to follow the story. The joke I always share is that when I saw this movie in the theater, when I watched the credits I shouted “Bellmer!” (because, although I recognized the gynoids instantly, I could not remember his name,) and woke all the people around me up. ^_^

Hans Bellmer’s designs for the gynoids befuddled me, but then…I’d forgotten Japanese jointed dolls, which they kind of, sort of resemble. Not *so* odd, I guess. But still unappealing from my perspective. Bellmer was a misogynist fuckhead among other sexual dysfunctions. The idea of using his not-even-slightly-idealized female forms for sexaroids is strange, but in a sense I think it’s another version of the grotesquery/female torso obsession Oshii plays with in his iterations of this franchise. 

There’s a hint of grappling with mortality and morality but in the end, the Major – who is never really there at all – is the one who makes the point. And Batou fails to be a good person, which is a shame, but is a shout out to the manga.

As a coda, 2501 seems the *least* secure code you could pick, Batou. /facepalm/

 

Ghost in the Shell Stand Alone Complex Solid State Society (2006) Directed by Kamiyama Kenji, written by Kamiyama Kenji, Suga Shotaro, Sakurai Yoshiki. As far as I know, this was my first time watching this iteration, but it seemed very familiar. Not sure if that’s because it’s basically the same kind of thing, I had seen it before, or something else.

I initially placed it between SAC 2nd Gig and Innocence, but it could just have easily come after Innocence, if Batou had managed to make it through his mid-career crisis. In any case this was another very-good ensemble piece – maybe the best for all the Section 9 characters overall, with more lines for everyone.

Amazing animation at the beginning, it settles down, but is generally very good.

I really liked that we finally see the Major using her consciousness in multiple different bodies. That’s a feature of the manga I really liked and felt that it would have been awesome – and sensible- in an anime, but was rarely used.

The music being so different from the rest of the series sets it apart in a kind of a pocket universe in which the Puppeteer makes a comeback.  This was more of an OVA for the SAC series than a “movie”. Kamiyama Kenji gets my vote for writing any further Ghost in the Shell content. He really *gets* the things that can make this an interesting setup, then uses them and doesn’t get bogged down too much in philosophical discourse.

 

Ghost in the Shell 2.0 (2008): This remake of the 1995 movie is the same, with a few small changes. CGI is inserted in key scenes, including the opening, and much of the mecha is rendered in CGI. I remember clearly that this spliced nicely into the “get your CGI out of my anime!” wars. ^_^

There is, however, one important change.

In the final scene of the original movie, the Puppet Master is voiced by a man. In Japanese, the role was played by Kayumi Iemasa, and in English it was Tom Wyner. In 2.0, while in English the same audio track was used, in Japanese, the Puppet Master was now voiced by Sakakibara Yoshiko. Giving a woman’s voice to a non corporeal entity obsessing about procreation and immortality radically altered the feel of the scene.

In both iterations of this movie, the backgrounds are detailed and painstakingly animated. It’s easy to see why the movie was hailed as a masterwork of its time. But time moves on and here, it all looks a little worn.

 

Ghost in the Shell: Arise (2015 – 2016) Directed by Kise Kazuchika, Written by Ubukata Tow. Arise is annoying. There I said it. Not only does it retcon what little we know about the major, but every single voice is different. Feels like an AU, rather than canon, which is a weird choice for a 20th anniversary.

But, let’s talk about that retcon: How many times has it been mentioned that the Major’s body is not her own? Well, now it is. And it is, before Section 9 is formed, so all those meaningful conversations about her existence and her body are all now moot. What a strange choice, to overwrite a core concept that is one of the few enduring “facts” we have.

Also, if the Major’s body is cyborg, why does she wear underwear? She doesn’t need anything to catch bodily fluids, or stop chafing or provide support or anything people wear underwear for. Creepy, boring fetishes are creepy and boring. (see: Sex and Sexuality).

Oh wow, Kusanagi’s mentor is the bad guy. I was so surprised. That wasn’t completely predictable from the first second we saw her in her low-cut uniform blouse and non-regulation hair. 

The story doesn’t make a lot of sense within itself. As a kind of alternate universe fanfic of how the Major’s group was formed, it’s a lot of glitz, without the kind of storytelling I look for in Ghost in the Shell…like someone who sort of got it did the writing…and in, fact, felt like Ubukata Tow through and through. Using different voices for everyone definitely made it feel even more AU. This series is the weakest link in the franchise in every way. Character designs are uninspired, and the fact that it borrows so much from the original movie feels less like an homage here than a lack of originality. Before the original movie, all of it had already happened?  Okay.

 

攻殻機動隊ARISE:GHOST is ALIVE Stage Play (2015): This is a stage version of Arise. I did not expect the dancing. In retrospect I should have. 

 

Ghost in the Shell  (2017): Directed by Rupert Sanders, written by Jamie Moss, William Wheeler, Ehren Kruger. The main problem with the live-action Ghost in the Shell is not that it’s “bad,” its that it is a pretty fair retelling of the first movie with a made-by-Hollywood plot inserted and Hollywood whitewashing, which made Oshii and Shirow happy, but pissed off everyone else. 

Let’s set aside the choice of actress for just a moment. That’s a main point, but IF the live-action had been a perfect retelling of the original, with a Japanese actress, people would still have not liked it, because it was *never* the story (which was barely there in the original) that people remembered. It was the emotional impact…and a series that is 20+ years old, that has used those same visual references over and over, cannot ever recapture that initial emotional impact.

Most of the visuals are homage to the original movie: Idealized “build a body” and same not-quite nudity. Similar music, heavy drums, women singing.  False memories. Boat scene. Arm rip. Togusa’s got bad hair. Batou’s got dogs. Optical camo was handled well. The jump, murderous servobots, scene in her room by a window, garbage guys…all homage. The end theme is literally the opening of the original. Laying next to puppeteer/Kuze, air strike…it’s all there. And despite that, the problem is not that this movie lacked nuance – it actually added in nuance. It gave the Major a definitive backstory. Oulete is not Haraway, she actually cares. Major finds out who she was and gets an actual history.

There were some changes of course. “Major” is treated like a name, not a rank. She’s given a new name, Mira Killian and Section 9 isn’t a government department, she’s a corporate tool for an evil corporation. Those are changes that did need to be made for the actress to work. Overall they actually wrote a halfway decent story with some extremely stupid points. For instance, how did I forget that “Initiate the hack.” is a line in this movie? It’s so memorable. Also, “I’m trying, but she’s being hacked!” Scenes from the original are taken out of the context of the original, so the garbage guys scene isn’t as full of pathos. As the garbage guy is screaming “2571!,”  not 2501,  all I could think was now Batou can get a new code for his front door. (Haha GitS continuity jokes.)

Of all the visuals that were supposed to feel futuristic, the one that totally didn’t work were the giant floating faces all over the city as adverts. None of them had logos. What were they for? We’ll never know. That’s not how advertising works.

So, now, we can talk about the actress. Scarlet Johansson is not, IMHO, a good actress. She is bland looking and an indifferent actress. Her primary appeal is to be blandly attractive so an assumed-male audience can not care about the female characters she plays while they stay sexually attracted to her. To Shirow and Oshii, getting a top-name Hollywood actress to play “Major” would have been a triumph. HOLLYWOOD! ScarJo! It’s just that we all thought it was a terrible idea. So instead of writing a story about Kusanagi Motoko, they wrote a story around “why this Japanese character is white now” which was a less-optimal, more-insulting use of the audience’s time.

To make this movie excellent all they needed to do was bring back her manga-version body hopping and hire non-white actresses to play her, too. If there had been a single scene in which she networked with several other iterations of herself – played, ideally, by top name actresses from other parts of the world – they would have created a way to make their use of Johansson less annoying, while nodding to the original manga.  To make it brilliant it needed very few changes: One scene, with Major interfacing with these other selves. Especially if they played up the idea that she’s a networked entity, that’s all it might have taken.  But…they didn’t and it left fans of the franchise thinking they Hollywood is a bunch of imaginationless twits.

Oh well.

 

Possible histories for Kusanagi

Through the series, we’ve been given several alternate stories for Major Kusanagi Motoko.

Movie: She has no idea if she was ever a person. Maybe there was an accident and her personality was stolen. Batou and Kusanagi talk about how her body belongs to the government

SAC 2nd:  She was cyborgized very young, and it’s implied that if she and Kuze are not the actual boy and girl in the story told to her by the curiosity shop owner, their individual stories are similar. Hence her sympathy and affinity for Kuze at the end of 2nd Gig in a way that the Puppet Master never evinced.

Arise: Retcons the first movie, when she wins ownership of her body and a trust fund to pay for it before her team is official. Furthermore, in Arise, we’re told she was cyborgized young, and raised by a scientist, but that history is erased as the series goes on, so in the end, we still don’t know what her history is.

Live-Action movie: Takes that throwaway line about an accident from the first movie and builds a history around it. She was Kusanagi Motoko, her death was pointless. Hanka robotics takes the brain, puts it into a fully cyborg body and trains it to be an enforcer.

And this doesn’t even touch on the body of manga, so expect a few more backstories there.

 

Sex and Sexuality

Kusanagi’s “sexiness” is a constant in the franchise, but it’s realized differently by different directors. Shirow and Kamiyama have an ass fetish, Kise liked tits, Oshii likes torsos without limbs, all of them like female bodies fakely naked or clothed in underwear. We know this because they did this over and over. And over.  Every director’s specific fetish is just as obvious as all the others’. Isn’t that tiresome?

Kusanagi’s clothes are horrible, fetishy weird things throughout. The designers ought to be scolded. They make me chafe looking at them. Body suits suck. Flesh-toned bodysuits are ridiculous. If she’s a cyborg she won’t care that she’s naked. None of her clothes make any sense beyond the titillation of people with limited sexual imagination.

But what is interesting is that just as surely as she is “sexy,”, we learn her sexuality – if that’s even applicable in a networked cyborg. Although she is always shown as female – and she and Batou discuss that in SAC – what does sexuality even mean when gender and sex can be as fluid as the buyer wishes? So I’m choosing to call it pansexuality, rather than bisexuality because we never really know anything about her or her partners ultimately. Shirow has her as a pansexual.  Kenji Kamiyama keeps that in SAC. And once again in the live action, we get a brief glimpse (although weirdly that’s been cut for the Amazon Prime release?) of the same. 


Final Random Thoughts

Let’s just take a second and talk about a couple of those emotionally impactful scenes that we’ve all come to know and expect. Some of them make no sense. ^_^

We know Kusanagi’s extremely heavy cyborg body can be damaged, so in what universe does it make sense for her to leap off a building? She’s not flying, she’s falling. She’s hurtling herself downwards like a boulder. Her body and the building she crashes in to should be wreckage.

But the one thing I want to rant about is the, IMHO, extremely bizarre scene in every iteration where Kusanagi rips her arm opening a mecha’s access port.  Isn’t it obvious that she’d ask to have that arm significantly reinforced after the first time? I just cannot with that scene. 

 

Ghost in the Shell: SAC_2045 So here we are in 2020, waiting for a new series. Which Kusanagi Motoko will we get?

The good news is that the news series is once again directed by Kamiyama Kenji and Aramaki Shinji.

Which is why I predict that SAC_2045 will be to SAC what the movies all are to the original – an homage, using something similar to SAC 2nd Gig‘s plot done with CGI…because technology changes more than story in the technological world of Ghost in the Shell.

But, with Kamiyama at the helm, I’m hoping we’ll get a new story, something that will make us all love Section 9 all over again.

 





Kabi Nagata: Opening Doors at an Intersection

February 16th, 2020

Students of literature or art often find themselves reading analysis of an author’s work long past the author’s own lifetime, whether it be Edgar Allen Poe or Murasaki Shikibu. Manga and anime studies are not that old and, as a result, when one begins to study manga and anime in earnest, one sometimes encounters an unusual phenomenon – the subject of one’s research is often alive and still creating. Sure you might read about Tezuka Osamu, but you might also find yourself reading works by or about Riyoko Ikeda.

A few years ago, I reviewed a manga that had been getting a lot of buzz in Japan. Based on an online diary, Sabishi-sugi Rezu Fuzoku ni Ikimashita Report (さびしすぎてレズ風俗に行きましたレポ) was breaking barriers and breaking sales records. The story itself – a manga autobiography of living with crushing depression and an eating disorder – was, I thought, unlikely to get an English translation. While diary comics had been published in translation previously, they were usually the work of well-established “elder” artists, such as Yoshihiro Tatsumi‘s A Drifting Life. Looking back at our own life in retrospect is, to some extent, the function of autobiography. So, even though we, as readers, have become more accustomed to the idea of the “real-time” diaries of social media as a way to understand our worlds in the form of blogs and social media posts, we don’t automatically assign that kind of communication a “literary” status until they become retrospective. Kabi Nagata changed that, in actual real time, while we watched.

By using social tools like Pixiv, and Twitter, Nagata gathered a global following with her diary – which was published in English in 2017 as best-selling manga My Lesbian Experience With Loneliness, proving me happily wrong.

It’s not often that we are able to see as an entire industry makes a shift into new territory right in front of us. It’s much more common that we only notice that change as we look back and learn about an artist’s contributions to their oeuvre after they are gone, like Julius Eastman‘s foundational work in downtown music. And so, I want to take a moment today to acknowledge what Kabi Nagata has done for manga, before she’s even had a chance to finish doing it.

 

Comic Essay

In the 2000s when I first started picking up Feel Young and other Josei magazines, among the manga included was a daily diary by well-known manga artist Erica Sakurazawa. She drew about her family and the kinds of typical situations in which an adult woman might find herself. This was my first encounter with what would soon become known as the “Comic Essay” genre. Common in magazines for woman, these comic essays by women gave the readers the sense that they were seen – that their lives were understood. Sakurazawa has continued to put out diary-style manga, as well as fiction and currently publishes comics on her blog as well as in print.

As the 2000s progressed, the “Comic Essay” section of Japanese bookstores grew in size. More artists contributed tales of child-bearing and child-raising. By the 2010s some of the top names in Jousei manga were drawing daily life comic essays.  Comic essays are not only for or about women, consider Junji Ito’s Cat Diary, but I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that autobiographical comics resonate very strongly for women. Where men’s autobiographies tend to be bildungsroman about their adolescent development into adulthood, women’s autobiographies often center their ordinary lives, giving visibility to what remains invisible. Moyoco Anno’s manga about her life with her husband, celebrated anime director Hideaki Anno, Insufficient Direction, is a comedic essay about the ordinariness of two extraordinary people’s lives together. Comic essays remain a popular format for the display of women’s inner lives. Princess Jellyfish creator Akiko Higashimura has found a whole new kind of success with her autobiographical essay series Blank Canvas: My So-Called Artist’s Journey.

In the west, the artist who has seen the greatest commercial success with comic essays of her own life, is Raina Telegemeier, whose Smile, Sisters, and Guts gave voice to tween and teen girls worldwide. (Middle-grade readers are traditionally ignored by superhero comics companies but, are in actual fact, one of the top market for comics.) The editorial copy for Guts is telling, “Raina Telegemeier once again brings us a thoughtful, charming, and funny true story about growing up and gathering the courage to face — and conquer — her fears.” This is exactly the function of comic essays – uncovering those inner demons;low self-esteem, illness, even boredom and complacency in a relationship, and normalizing them. This is my life, comic essays say, this is your life.

By the 2010s, artists all over the globe were using social communities to draw their comic and manga essays. So when Nagata began her comic diary on art platform Pixiv, she was joining a tradition of great artists before her and bringing the format to a whole new generation of people. With My Lesbian Experience With Loneliness, Nagata, like Telegemeier, stood at the intersection of life and health and threw the door open.

 

Graphic Medicine Manga

Among things that are universally “not to be discussed at the dinner table” universe, mental health and illness are right up there among the top, along with sex and politics. Humans are still unsure of how to deal with mental health, both medically and socially.  For anyone in any media to admit to depression is still considered a form of “coming out” – an act of making public what is treated as a private burden.

In her first book, Nagata-sensei took her depression, the physical manifestations of that depression, and how it created an inability to form intimate relationships, into the public eye for people to see and comment on. Even behind a mask of pseudonymity, this was an act of bravery. And it was an act that changed people’s lives, as readers online thanked her and started sharing their own stories in her comments. What had been a purely private issue, something to not-be-discussed, was being uncovered and talked about.

While in the west comics creators were birthing a new graphic medicine genre with works like Jennifer Hayden’s The Story of My Tits, Nagata-sensei had opened the door to real stories of real people dealing with mental health issues in manga form.

Following the success of her first book, she continued her comic diary online. While working through her physical ailments, she started to have energy to address her relationship with her family and her desire and inability to build connections with other people. These became her series Hitori Koukan Nikki (一人交換日記), which were published in English as My Solo Exchange DiaryVolume 1 and Volume 2.

In the meantime, other manga artists had taken the opportunity to “come out” about mental health, as well. Akiko Morishima drew a lovely comic essay about living with ADHD in Otona no Hattatsu Shougai Kamoshirenai!? (おとなの発達障害かもしれない! ?). Morishima is known as a long-time Yuri artist with a very cute style of art. Her gentle art style doesn’t make the story any less powerful as she searches for ways to move forward with her new understanding, in a similar-yet-different path to Nagata’s own quest.

Yet another door has been opened, and I don’t think we’re likely to see it shut again. As mental health becomes increasingly de-stigmatized by those artists speaking up in public and normalizing mental health issues as just another kind of medical issue, it is likely to become more common, not less, to see more graphic medicine manga.

 

Queer Narrative

In western comics, the coming out narrative is so common, so expected, that even now I find myself surprised when I read a book or comic that doesn’t have at least a scene dedicated to the big reveal…even if, ultimately, that isn’t a thing for the other characters in a book. If there’s a defining quality to “coming out” in novels here in the USA in 2020, it’s that…it’s not a thing at all. Bye-bye coming out as trauma, we won’t miss you!

But manga is not science fiction, or YA, manga is another medium from a country that is slowly and steadily working towards LGBTQ equality, but is not there, not yet. Nonetheless, even in an industry as frequently heteronormative and conservative as manga publishing, queer-facing comics (as opposed to straight-facing comics about being sexual and gender minorities, like Gengoroh Tagame’s mainstream men’s manga My Brother’s Husband or Chii’s transgender life comic essay, The Bride Was a Boy,) are creeping in; artistic wildflowers growing up in the midst of a paved walkway. Takemiya Jin is one of the handful of out lesbian manga artists in Japan; her series Itoshi Koishi is an unusual Yuri manga that shows a young lesbian’s life as a wholly positive experience. Her older lover is kind and supportive and never pressures her in any way to do anything; her friends adore her and yet, when she feels that she wants to come out to them, she still feels stress. Coming out, which until recently was a hand-of-god narrative complication, resulting in loss of family, friends, and jobs, is less likely to be so dramatic these days, but it’s never easy.

One of the  – even fewer –  comic essays written by and about a woman in a relationship with another woman is in the same magazine that carried Itoshi Koishi, Comic Yuri Hime, a monthly Yuri manga magazine. Notice I don’t say it is a “lesbian comic”, or even a comic essay about lesbian life. For a monthly magazine that prints Yuri manga, there have been few lesbians in the 15 years of the magazine’s run.

So, when Nagata writes about herself in her first book, “By the way– when it comes to free hugs, gender doesn’t matter to me. But for anything more that that, I’d only want to purse it with a woman.” she joined that handful of out lesbian manga artists. That her narrative is not about being gay, but about her relationship with her body, with how she relates to (or doesn’t relate to) the world, does not change that her entire story is a queer woman’s story. And with that, Nagata flung open a third door in which a creator can relate with honesty, their sexuality and their relationship to their body.

 

Not “The End” 

Nagata’s story is not over. This article is not a retrospective of an influential artist’s life and work after their death. Nagata is creating new work, even as we speak. She has fiction manga coming out shortly in an anthology and her own collection. She’s doing cover illustration and, while all of that is happening, she’s still telling her readers the stories about her life, her health, her trials and tribulations.

Like other comic essayists, Nagata has already given voice and visibility to people whose stories have been obscured. Here at the intersection, she’s laid groundwork for people to discuss their mental health and for queer folks to speak of their lives matter-of-factly.

In her most recent book, Genjitsu Touhishitetara Boroboro ni Natta Hanashi (現実逃避してたらボロボロになった話), Nagata chronicles even more serious physical ailments, this time pancreatitis as a side effect of alcohol abuse. We ride along as she once again pulls herself out of a  deep well made in conjunction with the imbalanced chemical cocktail of her brain and body. It’s a testament to her strength of will (and a functional national healthcare system) that she is still capable of healing.

More importantly, as we read about her desire to create new, non-essay work, it’s a testament to her creative drive, her artistic and narrative abilities, that from inside all of these mental and physical health crises, there is a talented and unique voice who wants to be seen and heard. Perhaps then, she has more doors to blast through, as she gives voice to creatives  whose work, rendered obscure by illness, poverty, gender, sexuality, ethnicity, skin color, ability or other forms of marginalization, find something in her story to resonate to.

Nagata has already changed what we read and how we read it, so it seems very fitting to also let her be the person who changes how we recognize that kind of paradigm shift, as well. Her body of work is notable enough that it’s worth noting now, during her life. I hope this will inspire other people to do more analysis of her work while she is still creating it and change the way literary critics will have to approach literary criticism for some time to come. ^_^





Yuri Manga and “Problematic” Art

January 19th, 2020

I was all geared up today to write a review of Otherside Picnic, Volume 2, but there has been a lot of Twitter conversation that has dovetailed and I kind of want to put it all together in one place to point to later. I’m finishing up Comic Yuri Hime, February 2020 and I found myself torn between disgust and laughter at the the chapter of Ogino Jun’s “semelparous.” Both art and story are open to criticism, but the art is instantly deserving of mockery. There have been a number of conversations recently on Twitter about liking or being offended by art and I want to also add some very sincere – hopefully thought-provoking – thoughts about liking “problematic” art.

Let me start with liking “problematic” things. Lynzee Loveridge posted this tweet:


Yes, it is absolutely okay to like problematic things. But equally super important is recognizing that to other people that “problematic” thing might feel like an assault on their existence, so their *completely valid* reaction is strongly negative. For instance, when I write below about the ridiculous way in which women’s breasts were being depicted by a manga creator, I understand that there are people who enjoy that aesthetic. I do not feel attacked by absurdly drawn breasts, but I *understand* from many years experience, that the men who defend and demand that kind of art are exactly the kind of men who blame women for their own failures and who aggressively deny misogyny. As a result I do not believe that art deserves a place in Yuri Manga, a point I will get to.

So, let’s talk about tits. Tits do function a bit like water balloons, this is completely true. BUT WE HAVE UNDERWEAR. Women’s bras are specifically designed to offer support – which is to say, minimizing jiggling. Not to rob men of the pleasure of looking, but because breasts bouncing up and down hurt. Large breasts hurt more. They pull on back and chest muscles. Women with large chests need more support, more minimizing of movement. Active wear for women is specifically designed with this in mind. (In relevant news, the three women who invented the sports bra are being inducted into the Inventor’s Hall of Fame.)

I specifically looked for larger wetsuit sizes, so you could see how breasts are compressed more during activity, so they aren’t just banging around painfully. This is a 2X wetsuit.

In “semelparous” Ogino Jun draws women with exceedingly large breasts, that apparently have clothes sprayed on, without any underwear.


I can absolutely attest from personal experience with a large chest that this would be painful.

Immediately some people attempted to shame me for my mockery, as if art criticism doesn’t exist as a thing. ^_^ Of course what they were angry about was me not respecting their fetish. Sorry guys. I don’t. And I’ll tell you why in a second. But first, let’s review how breasts and clothes work:

This image is used with permission. The artist has specifically asked to remain uncredited.

So, when I was reading “semelparous,” Chapter 2 and saw these, I boggled (in a bad way.)

 

Now, here’s where I’m getting salty. Don’t bother complaining to me about it. You’re reading my blog. ^_^

The problematic part here is not that the artist likes large tits. It’s that he is uninterested in portraying tits correctly. Why is that problematic? That (and everything else about this story) indicates two clear and important points:

1) Women are basically tits and crotches with faces attached
2) Actual women’s bodies aren’t interesting to the creator.

Still, why is that problematic? you might reasonably ask me.

It is problematic because this comic runs in Comic Yuri Hime.

Comic Yuri Hime is a magazine with a majority female readership. This comic is insulting, to be honest, to women. It prioritizes their tits over everything and anything. Women, generally, are not made comfortable by that kind of fetishization.

Comic Yuri Hime is a magazine about Yuri, which ought, IMHO, to prioritize the interior lives of women and their experiences, showing them as fully formed individuals, rather than as tits with legs. Women shown existing for their own sake, not for men’s viewing pleasure. 

“semelparous” is presumably meant to attract men to the readership of Comic Yuri Hime. I would be deeply offended at the presumption that only the hyper-sexualization of women’s bodies will attract me to enjoy a comic, if I were a man.

As a woman who actually enjoys women’s actual real-world bodies, I find this art deserving of no respect. I know no one on the editorial staff at Comic Yuri Hime cares what I think, or what any lesbian thinks, but I’m strongly put off by this (and a few other editorial choices, which are clearly pandering to not “to men” but to extreme fetishists among men…an audience I never think is worth courting.) I understand that this art takes skill to draw, which is why it seems intentionally insulting to women. The editorial staff could have said, “Well, yeah, we want to attract guys, but the majority readership is women, so let’s back off a bit on these tits.” They didn’t, which indicates that they don’t care if current subscribers are put off. That is an intentional transaction. “So what if we lose female readers or make them feel uncomfortable?” And that is, frankly, insulting.

In a world where women are mobilizing globally to make men aware of systemic misogyny and the impact on their lives, this kind of decision is troubling. One might have hoped that in the light of #KuToo, the editorial staff of the only monthly Yuri magazine might have decided that this kind of intentionally demeaning art was not a good choice. That they didn’t…is exactly the problem #KuToo is meant to highlight.

Misogyny does not belong in Yuri. I reject it. I hope you will too. I will be following this post up with a polite, but firm, letter to Comic Yuri Hime expressing my opinion. Feel free to write them and let them know you are not okay with this. Remember to be polite.

My point is…it’s up to us to think about the “problematic.” When we like a thing because it’s problematic – are we, in actual fact, just ignoring that it indicates attitudes and behaviors that are harmful to someone *else*? Because then the problematic thing…is us. Are you processing your own trauma, or exploiting someone else’s?

So go ahead and like your problematic thing, but consider thinking about why its problematic and what it says about you as a person. And don’t get all offended when someone calls you out. Your “problematic” may be their actual real-world problem.





100 Years of Yuri 2020 Project – Introduction

January 1st, 2020

Happy New Year and welcome to 2020 or, as I like to think of it, the first day of 2CYE (Current Yuri Era.) ^_^

To begin with, thanks to everyone who made 2019 one of the best years of a lifetime, as we celebrated 100 years of the Yuri genre!

In my final list of 2019, I imagined what Yoshiya Nobuko-sensei might have made of this last century and the growth of an entire genre out of her and her peers’ work…and what she might think looking at explicitly queer stories with openly lesbian characters. A hundred years is a long time, and tastes, technology, fashion and the sociopolitical landscape have all changed so radically. Which got me thinking about those years and all those changes. Even in the past 20 years, there have been some remarkable shifts. From a fetish on a long list of fetishes, or a reference to a century-old literary movement to a full-blown genre with recognition by companies and bookstores on both sides of the globe, there have been a lot of changes in Yuri. Yuri has gone from a niche of a niche to a segment of the anime/manga audience that has its own events and visible presence at larger events. And, so, I developed an idea – one last exciting project to cap off this 100 Year Anniversary of the genre. I asked this question:

Could we develop a list of the best, most notable, most representative, Top Yuri titles of the last century?

To help me out with this, I reached out to invite some of my favorite Yuri experts, folks whose opinions I am always interested to hear and whose knowledge about our genre is far-reaching.

Starting tomorrow, over the next several days, you’ll be hearing from Erin Subramanian  Katherine Hanson and Nicki Bauman, all long-time Yuri researchers and bloggers. These are people who I like to consider my peers in the non-academic Yuri research bubble that I have created and which I so cheerfully occupy. ^_^

I’ll be posting 4 different lists from each of these terrific writers and myself on our “Top Yuri of the last 100 Years.” Each one of us had completely different criteria for our choices which means that, even if you see some of the same series represented I ask you to read the entries, because they are on each of our lists for completely different reasons!

Please join me in welcoming all of our our guest writers as we start the 100 Years of Yuri 2020 Project!