One of the goals here at Okazu is to not only give fans of manga and anime a broad idea of everything that’s available to them, but also to provide historical and critical perspective on the things we’re reading and watching. If you’re a long time-reader, you’ll know that myself and guest reviewers often include references to fine art, dance, literature and other non-fannish forms of art and entertainment. When we watch Japanese anime and read manga, there are often references that are missed by western fans and so I point out the sources of these references, whether they are older anime, or novels, or whatever.  I do this in part, to remind us that nothing exists in a vacuum, and also to establish the literary, artistic and historical lineages of the cartoons we watch and comics we read. It’s not a capricious thought, it’s a calculated ploy to educate. ^_^

And sometimes, I want to remind you that while we’re mostly focused on Japanese media here at Okazu, the LGBTQ community has a rich, diverse and fascinating history here in the west as well – a history with which we should all be familiar.

Carol, (available on DVD, Blu-ray or Amazon Instant Video) directed by Todd Hynes and starring Cate Blanchett and Rooney Mara, is a film that shows an accurate  – if narrow – vision of that history. Based closed on the book The Price of Salt, by Patricia Highsmith, it tells the story of a upper middle class housewife and the shopgirl she falls in love with in mid-20th century New York City.

Carol meets Therese while shopping for her daughter, but leaves her gloves at the store. Therese returns the gloves and sets in motion a slow-spiral of Carol’s rejection of everything that she had become.

Both the time and place are central to the movie, in a way that only stands out now, as we are so far removed from it. And it is critical to remember that the story takes place in the early 1950s, when even so much as being gay was cause to lose one’s children, job, home… and worse, to face criminal charges, being sent to a sanitarium, even electroshock therapy.

It’s important to remember all this, not because anyone in Carol is sent off to a madhouse, but because no one is. Both Carol and Therese are middle-class, white, urban women. I’ll come back to this in a second.

Blanchett and Mara are stellar in their roles, especially as so much of the story remains unspoken. A criticism I read of the film was that it is quite slow, very tentative and overcareful. The reason of course, is that gay people were very careful in the 1950s. They had to be. There is a wonderful moment midway, when Therese asks Carol “Are you frightened?” And she does mean, not just about the way she feels, but also about their physical safety. Carol’s husband, Harge is not an angry man, but is clearly feeling the stress of their divorce and has begun lashing out.

Harge being a sympathetic character is a slight change from the book and in a lot of ways, I thought it a good one. It’s all too easy to make the soon-to-be-ex-husband a jerk. Stereotypical and even more exhausting now than it was in  2001 in Moonlight Flowers. Yes of course, it is a thing that happens, but a little empathy for a character never hurts.

Another change from the book is the final scene…and again, I appreciated the change. It’s definitely done to make the end more satisfying and in that, it works.

The slow pacing and quiet dialogue means that you are forced to watch the body language, expressions, listen to tones of voices and make too much of them – just as  anyone at that time might have had to do, to read the subtext, to trust that they heard what they thought they heard.

The thing that impressed me most was the feeling that Todd Hynes actually understood the book, in a way that very few movie adaptations ever feel. (Interestingly one of the few other movie adaptations of a book I felt really managed this was Desert Hearts, another mid-century lesbian story, based on the novel Desert of the Heart by Jane Rule.)

But let’s go back to the topic of privilege. Carol and Therese are not just rounded up and thrown in jail or an asylum. But not all lesbians are urban, middle-class and protected. If you’d like to read a novel about working class white lesbians in the 20th century that isn’t a pulp novel, I recommend Madelyn Arnold’s Year of Full Moons, or for a grimmer, less hopeful tale, the semi-autobiographical Bastard Out of Carolina by Dorothy Allison (which was also made into a movie, directed by Angelica Huston.) If you choose the latter, be prepared to rage. It’s a hard book.

But if you want a window on a world we are slowly leaving behind, in which merely loving a person of the same sex is enough to lose your children forever, do take a look at Carol.

Ratings:

Overall – 9

Now. There’s one more thing I’d like to address. All of the books/movies mentioned in this review are about white lesbians. I hope you’ve all asked yourself at some point while reading this “Um… Erica, where are the women of color?” Because I know I did.

Unfortunately mid-20th century history still pretty regularly erases women of color, but there were and are lesbians of color whose stories should be known. Here’s some suggestions of good books and movies:

Boots of Leather, Slippers of Gold: The History of a Lesbian Community
by Elizabeth Lapovsky Kennedy, Madeline D. Davis Nonfiction on my to-read list

The Gay Revolution by Lillian Faderman – Nonfiction, and possibly foundational for generations to come. Reviewed here: https://okazu.yuricon.com/2016/04/10/the-gay-revolution-the-story-of-the-struggle/

Zami by Audra Lorde – semi-autobiographical fiction by a master of writing

Living as a Lesbian by Cheryl Clarke – Poetry by and about an openly gay black women when people were still insisting there was no such thing.

Watermelon Woman is the earliest African-American lesbian movie I know.

Oh but look, Paris is Burning is older. About ballroom dancing, but featuring queer folks of color.

Latina Lesbian Writers and Artists by Maria Dolores Costa – this is a look at contemporary creators, mostly.

Lies We Tell Ourselves by Robin Tally is a YA novel set in the Civil Rights period in which a black and a white girl find themselves on opposites of the issues, but attracted to one another nonetheless.

Lisa Freeman’s Honey Girls is another YA book, which looks amazing, about a Hawaiian girl coping with mainland life and race…and liking girls.

Oh and for contemporary Queer Japanese creators, the Queer Japan Project documentary was just funded on Kickstarter! These stories ought to be amazing.

This is not meant to be, and isn’t remotely, comprehensive, just a few suggestions to get you started. If you have any suggestions for works set in the 20th century by and/or featuring lesbian woman of color, please write them in the comments! I have a summer coming up and need to line up some good reading. ^_^

Back in October 2015, we reported news that Fuji TV was airing the first-ever “lesbian” drama on Japanese television. The storyline received negative press before it even aired, with the Japanese LGBTQ community calling the plot “out of date.”  And I had many reservations, as well.

Transit Girls (トランジットガールズ ) follows the lives of Yui, a young professional photographer and Sayuri, a high school student, as they meet when their parents move in together and subsequently fall in love. The plot sounds pretty eye-rollingly shoujo manga, and to be honest, it was.

As the story opens, we see Yui taking photos of a young woman praying at a local shrine. We’re supposed to see that she’s instantly charmed, because she’s giving the girl long meaningful looks from a distance. The young woman is Saiyuri. Saiyuri and her father, Keigo, live alone together; her mother’s been dead for some years.  Dad tells Saiyuri that he’s met someone and she is moving in with her daughter, Yui.

Madoka, Yui’s mother, is very nice but Yui reacts weirdly, as we know this is the girl she was photographing, zOMG. Unsurprisingly, Saiyuri is ignoring the both of them, and Dad is quietly suffering. Yui tries to talk to Saiyuri and ends up kissing her. Saiyuri pushes her out of the room violently. End of episode 1.

The eight episodes of this series were all a half hour or so, so the story moves very quickly. And this, in a nutshell, is why we’re supposed to understand that Yui isn’t just a random predatory lesbian, she’s supposed to have been secretly charmed by Saiyuri all along.

The story moves briskly as Saiyuri begins to question her own feelings for Yui. They both agree that “sister” is not a relationship they want. The story becomes slightly more complicated when we meet Nao, Saiyuri’s childhood friend. He (obviously to us) has feelings for Saiyuri, even as she’s finding herself becoming more attracted to Yui. Another friend, Mirai, is in love with Nao.

Yui and Saiyuri are already falling in love, when Mirai confesses to Nao, who apologizes and says he has someone he likes. “You’re not supposed to say ‘Sorry’!” Saiyuri rebukes him. “You’re supposed to say ‘Thank you.'”

Saiyuri and Yui spend a night together, but are seen in bed by Madoka, who confronts Yui. Yui leaves home immediately, leaving a note for Saiyuri.  Madoka tells Saiyuri that Yui’s always been this way. Although she learns where Yui is staying, Saiyuri can’t bring herself to go through with contacting her. Saiyuri speaks briefly with Yui’s business partner, a nice guy who likes Yui himself.

Madoka, too embarrassed to face this situation her daughter created, also leaves home, leaving Dad and Saiyuri alone again..and, for the first time in many years, both of them feeling lonely.

While studying together, Nao confesses to Saiyuri, who then has to tell him that she’s in love with someone else. She admits that it’s Yui and Nao says he’s not really surprised. He’s always thought she wasn’t really into guys. She’s kind of surprised at this.  It’s worth noting that Nao is an awesome character and without him this story would have been pretty grim. He provides most of the laughs and a much-needed relieved sigh when he doesn’t get all weirded out at Saiyuri.

Saiyuri decides that to be fair to her friend Mirai, who can’t not be resentful at her and Nao’s relationship – and who naturally presumes that Saiyuri and Nao are an item. So Saiyuri tells Mirai the truth, that she’s in a relationship with her “onee-san”. Mirai laughs and says, “It’s like being in a shoujo manga.” Saiyuri agrees. Mirai is also not particularly weirded out and just accepts Saiyuri’s relationship at face value.

Christmas is coming. Yui’s father left them at Christmas, and so Saiyuri had promised to spend it with her to reverse her negative feelings about the holiday, but now that isn’t possible.

Dad goes to see Yui, ostensibly to ask her what to get Saiyuri. Remembering the ema the girl had written at the shrine, Yui suggests a Tiffany double-heart necklace. Then Dad asks what Yui would like, indicating that he’s still willing to be a “Dad” if she’ll let him.

Madoka and Keigo meet for dinner, and Madoka apologizes profusely. Dad makes a startling confession. Since his wife died, Saiyuri has been very removed from human relationships. She’s just not really noticed other people. Yui is the first person she’s taken any notice of in years. Madoka and Keigo decide that they will root for the two women and support them whatever happens. Then he asks Madoka to return home.

Dad gives Saiyuri the necklace and tells her that he knew what she wanted because Yui told him. He tells her to go see Yui. Saiyuri runs to the shrine and finds Yui there, then runs into her arms. They kiss and hug and kiss again as the end credits roll.

Very shoujo manga. And really fast-paced, sometimes really stretching the ability to accept that all this happens so quickly….but it doesn’t. The seasons change while the story takes place, but the episodes are so short, you kind of have to remind yourself this doesn’t take place over a week. ^_^;

On the negative side there is one almost insurmountable obstacle. The kissing. Sorry J-Dramas, you just have the worst kissing in the world. So terrible. My wife and I tried to kiss that badly, touching lips without moving or even a pucker, nothing, just dryly placing lips against each other, but we kept cracking up and couldn’t do it. It was particularly distracting/laughable in the final scene as they kiss. It looked kind of like if you asked two children to watch grown ups kiss, then kiss like them. They move back and forth, but the lips stay dry, pressed emotionlessly against each other. Totally put a harsh on what would have been a great moment otherwise.

The only other negative was the plot. You know how I feel about stories where people fall in love with the only other person in the house near their age – it’s lazy writing and a tiresome plot.

Other than these two rather amazing high hurdles, the story wasn’t bad. ^_^

On the positive side, Itou Sairi, who played Saiyuri, was excellent. Honestly, she carried the show all by herself. Her voice is an interestingly deep, burry one, that I found rather attractive, but her acting really made Saiyuri come alive. The rest of the cast was absolutely fine, but Itou was stellar.

The most – surprisingly – positive quality of the story was everyone’s reactions to the relationship. It was made plain that Yui is a lesbian, (and I think she was meant to look a little butchy, with short hair) although that word is never used.  Yui and Sayuri discuss “onna-doushi” and Saiyuri admits to being a little frightened of her feelings and this whole can of worms. But when she talks about the relationship to other people, they just…support her. No histrionics, no shouting. Keigo admits to being confused at first, even as Yui is insisting her feelings are for real. And that’s about it. After that, there’s no conflict except getting them back together. For the complete lack of homophobia, I’ll give props to Fuji TV.

And the final positive note is that both Keigo and Nao are totally not weird about it. A real shoujo manga probably world have had Nao (or Mirai) out Saiyuri to the whole school or try to sabotage the relationship. Instead they were like, “it’s cool” and we all moved on. That’s a handwave I can definitely live with.

I’m not sure I’d say this was a great series, but it was more good than bad and a positive, if ridiculous, beginning for lesbian stories on Japanese television.

Ratings:

Story – 4 at the beginning, going up to 6 by the end
Characters – start at 6, 8 by the end
Service – 5 a number of bath scenes and a bed scene, no full nudity, just implication
Yuri – 9

Overall – I think 7 is a fair score.

One last thing of note and it’s utterly dorkstastic – the bus station Saiyuri and Nao get on the bus at is Yuriyamakoen, so Lily Mountain park. So clever those production folks. Hah.