Mukokuseki and Concepts of Race and Beauty

Eleven years ago, I wrote about mukokuseki, the Japanese term for the “race-neutral” big-eyed look favored in anime and manga. As a relatively new anime fan, I was struck by how western-appearing the characters looked... or so I saw it then.

At that time, I read the TV Tropes essay on mukokuseki, which has since been updated and is even more interesting to read now than it was then. The most commonly accepted explanation for why manga and anime characters typically have big round eyes is attributed to Osamu Tezuka being influenced by Disney characters, and his great success more or less cementing a certain look for manga and anime characters ever after that.

Recently I thought about the issue again in the context of the Black Lives Matter movement and civil rights protests in the U.S. I support Black Lives Matter and all civil protestors, because attitudes toward race and ethnicity have not only affected me personally and professionally as an American of Japanese ancestry, but have profoundly affected the lives of millions of Americans, including white Americans. It’s impossible to divorce oneself from these issues if you are an American, no matter what your color.

To me, the obvious, logical, and gracious solution is to acknowledge that we truly are all equal in this country and our culture; that injustices happened and mistakes were made in the past; and that moving forward into the future that the entertainment media that reflects our society has to do a much better job of representing everyone who lives here.

Anime and manga – especially anime and manga translated into English – is of course a niche medium, enjoyed here in the U.S. by people who appreciate Japanese pop culture, or who at the very least are not averse to Japanese culture and Japanese people. I recall recognizing, early on, the feeling of being comfortable when attending anime conventions. I knew I was somewhere where my Japanese face was always going to be welcome and not looked at askance.

I’ve been thinking about mukokuseki in the context of representation, because it occurred to me that manga and anime could have gone another way.

Take, for example, the real-life historical figure of Toshizo Hijikata. Hijikata was the vice-captain of the Shinsengumi, the legendary samurai force tasked with guarding the last shogun in 19th-century Japan. If you’re an anime fan, you already know that there are a lot of depictions of the Shinsengumi in anime and manga, from Kaze Hikaru to Peacemaker Kurogame to Gintama, and many other story universes.

The Shinsengumi – let’s leave aside for a moment the fact that they were an uber-reactionary law enforcement division of a rigidly hierarchical government system – are usually presented in a romanticized fashion as the last samurai of a dying era.

Hijikata in particular is a heavily romanticized figure. He was a handsome man (see his Wikipedia page for proof), and was idolized during his lifetime by many.

Here’s Hijikata as depicted in the Hakuouki anime series:

And here he is in the Gintama universe:

Notice anything? They look pretty Japanese, don’t they?

Representation has value not only for the obvious reasons of inclusivity and fairness, but for other reasons too. You can argue that the idea of what makes someone beautiful or attractive is of lesser importance, but I would say it’s part of the same thing. Do you see a certain segment of society or overlook them? And – the most difficult question of all – does that segment of society itself see and accept themselves as valued, attractive, important? Because seeing people who look like you being represented in your culture is part of it, and has more of a significant impact than you might think, especially if you are younger.

I wonder what would have been the outcome if Osamu Tezuka, instead of going with the Disney-inspired round-eyed look, had decided to create character designs that more authentically represented the way most Japanese people look.

One choice made over 70 years ago influenced the self-concept of generations that came after it. It’s something to think about.

It's Our History And We'll Do Whatever We Want With It

Each nation owns its own history, or at least writes its own history books.

There are two very different interpretations of Japanese history this summer anime season. Nobunaga Concerto didn't look promising at first, but it has surprised me.

Saburou, a contemporary schoolboy, falls off a bridge and literally lands in the Warring States era. The first person he comes across is Nobunaga Oda, himself still a teenager.

The two boys note their uncanny resemblance. As Oda is sickly, he tells Saburou to take his place at home while he finds a place to rest and regain his health.

The first episode was not serious, but events take a darker turn starting in episode 2. This is the Warring States era after all, and a lot of people died both in the battles and in the various intrigues during the long lead-up to the actual war.

Nobunaga's father-in-law, Dousan Saito, is a feared warlord himself.

However, as Saburou finds out, he and Saito have something in common: they're both from the future. Thirty years before, Dousan, a modern-day police officer, found himself transported to the Warring States era and decided to make the most of it by becoming a warlord.

Saburou decides early on that he wants to play his role as Nobunaga Oda for real, that is, he wants to win Oda's battles and go on to lead Japan. It's a character shift we can believe in, because from the beginning Saburou shows both a cocky attitude and a penchant for serious reflection when appropriate. As usual, I didn't recognize Mamoru Miyano playing him; I only saw it was Miyano when I looked it up today. I can never recognize his voice for some reason.

Nobunaga Concerto has been criticized for being completely CGI, but it works well. It doesn't look as fluid as regular animation, but it's not a distraction, and the art is beautiful, particularly the backgrounds.

If you're looking for an unexpectedly serious recounting of Japanese history with a time-travel twist, you might consider giving Nobunaga Concerto a try.

On the complete other side of historical interpretation...

Bakumatsu Rock is a jaw-dropper in a lot of ways. As with Nobunaga Concerto, it helps if you know a little Japanese history. I know the Bakumatsu period better than the Warring States era, but I'm not sure any of it helps when the set-up is this insane. =D

Ryoma Sakamoto, a "crazy kid from Tosa," plays guitar and sings in Kyoto. He has a part-time job at a pizza parlor working for a flamboyant okama owner and later joins up with Takatsugi and Katsura, two other talented rock musicians. (The real-life Sakamoto, Takatsugi and Katsura were famous rebels of the Bakumatsu period.)

Ryoma wants to become famous for his music, but alas, the Shinsengumi are the biggest rock stars (literally) in Kyoto. Performing for thousands of screaming fan girls waving glow sticks night after night, flaming gay heartthrobs Hijikata and Okita, under the direction of former band leader Kondo, are the idols who sing "Heaven's Song."

"Heaven's Song," though, is a brainwashing song that pacifies the masses. Ryoma and his band decide they're going to defeat the Shinsengumi and sing for freedom and justice and... all that good stuff.

Bakumatsu Rock is as nutty as it sounds. The outlandishness of it makes me cringe while watching it, and I'm not even Japanese. Imagine some old man sitting in Kyoto watching this anime; it would make his dentures fall out.

Kishou Taniyama, one of the best seiyuu-singers out there, is Ryoma, and the rest of the cast is full of other seiyuu who sing well, and yes, they sing in every episode. I confess that I watch Bakumatsu Rock simply because I can't believe what I'm watching and want to see how far they'll go with this. I'm not proud of it, but there it is. ;-)

The Monster Under the Bed

The still-unfolding situation at the Fukushima nuclear plant has raised the specter of something that has lurked in the Japanese subconscious since 1945.

How many times have you, as an anime fan, been watching an anime when mushroom cloud imagery suddenly appears out of nowhere? I can think of at least a few examples off the top of my head, and I know I've forgotten many others.




The truth is - the Japanese people can absorb something as horrible as a massive earthquake and subsequent tsunami, even with the loss of numerous lives, and recover as a people and as a nation. But the threat of nuclear radiation is different. This opens a psychic wound, one that is always present in the back of the Japanese mind whether it's talked about or not. This lurking monster haunts everyone in the modern era, but it haunts Japan the most.



Regardless of how the Fukushima nuclear plant situation resolves, the psychological effects may be long term. I don't think the Japanese can be judged for their fears. The monster under the bed came out twice in their country already and left an emotional gouge in their souls that is not easy for others to understand. If you pray at all, please pray for them now.

Paintings credit: http://japanfocus.org/-David-McNeill/1836

The Romance of the Shinsengumi

I am currently finishing the writing of a novel called Kaminishi. It's a time-travel yaoi romance about a samurai warlord and a modern-day American graduate student. It's mostly set in Japan in 1851.

Now, 1851 is a tricky year to try to recreate. That was two years before Commodore Perry arrived with his black ships - so the Japanese characters, particularly the samurai, need to be described as looking authentically late-Edo period in their clothing. While doing research for this novel, however, I discovered that there are a lot of movies that are set either in the very late-Edo period - the Shinsengumi period, when the shogunate was about to lose power and bite the dust as an institution - or in the Warring States period, around 1600, with Kenshin Uesugi, Nobunaga Oda and all those guys. But there aren't a lot of movies set in-between those two times, or more specifically, in the period just before Perry landed; in other words, the period I need to recreate visually for the reader in terms of what people wore, what the cities of Kyoto and Edo (Tokyo) looked like then, what foods they ate, etc.

The Shinsengumi period (1860s) still had samurai, and it is late-Edo - the end of the Edo period, in fact - so it's been tempting for me to try to use movies and anime set in that time period for research. The problem is: not only Western ideas, but Western fashions had already begun to infiltrate Japanese society, even the samurai, by then.

Some samurai began wearing Western-style soldier dress. But thankfully - not the Shinsengumi. ;)

The Shinsengumi fascinate me and it's easy to romanticize them, as it is to romanticize the last of any breed, culture or group. They were the samurai holdouts, the representatives of a dying era and cult of ideals.

As part of my research, I recently watched Peace Maker Kurogane, a rather uneven anime series about the Shinsengumi. The protagonist is an annoying brat named Tetsunosuke Ichimura:




Tetsu joins the Shinsengumi, for whom his older brother Tatsunosuke already works as a bookkeeper:




Both Tetsu and his brother Tatsu actually existed and are documented Shinsengumi members. I kind of doubt the real-life Tetsu looked like that, however. ;)

Peace Maker Kurogane begins as a rather comical and lighthearted series, but in the last four or five episodes it turns gut-wrenchingly, hideously violent. It's as if a 24-episode TV series started off as Pokemon and then turned into Silence of the Lambs around episode 19 or 20 or so. (One could write a post just on bizarre tone shifts in anime. And Peace Maker Kurogane should top the list.)

If you watch any movies or anime about the Shinsengumi, the major players become familiar quite quickly. For us fangirls, Soji Okita is a favorite.




Historically, Soji Okita was supposed to be tall and dark. He was an excellent swordsman, and he died of tuberculosis. If you're watching a Shinsengumi story and a samurai suddenly starts coughing up blood, that's Soji.

In Peace Maker Kurogane, Soji is so beautiful that he looks female. Soji Okita, for some reason, has been personified as a bishonen in Shinsengumi recreations, including the movie Gohatto where he's played by Shinji Takeda; and the TV series Shinsengumi! where he's played by Tatsuya Fujiwara (Light Yagami in the Death Note movies).

The two leaders of the Shinsengumi were Isami Kondo and Toshizo Hijikata. Here's Kondo in Peace Maker Kurogane:



... and Hijikata:




What I'm about to show you next may shock you a little.

This is Isami Kondo.



And this is Toshizo Hijikata.




One thing about the Shinsengumi that differentiates them from other samurai is: we have photographs of some of them.

Most historical figures are a little misty around the edges. We read about their childhoods and adult lives, their exploits, triumphs, failures... and they seem more like characters in a book than people who actually lived.

But starting in the mid-19th century, even in isolated Japan, some of those figures were forever immortalized by the new technology: photography.

When I look at the photos of Kondo and Hijikata, it jolts me. Suddenly all the romantic imagery of the end of the samurai and Japan's pre-industrial era come smack up against hard reality. The Shinsengumi were samurai in an era when the samurai actually had to fight again. After hundreds of years of an indolent peace in which they largely engaged in cultural pursuits, the Shinsengumi were the last samurai to take up arms; and they went out in a fierce, bloody blaze of glory. Kondo was captured and beheaded in 1868 at the age of 33. Hijikata was killed a year later on the battlefield at Hakodate. He was 34 years old.

A new Shinsengumi anime series, Hakuouki, just started this spring. The legend of the Shinsengumi continues to evoke the dream-like beauty of that historical era in Japan and the long twilight - and violent end - of the samurai culture in our imaginations. The drawing to a close of that era is a theme in Kaminishi. When the novel comes out, in the tradition of kigo, or change-of-seasons imagery, look for a lot of falling autumn leaves. ;)

Hikikomori Nation

In one of Hidekaz Himaruya's Hetalia: Axis Powers comic strips, entitled "Black Ships Have Come," Japan is portrayed as a hikikomori, a person who chooses to shut himself inside his home and not deal with the outside world.

The strip, of course, refers to what is called the "opening of Japan" in 1853, when American naval commander Commodore Perry arrived with his black ships, demanding that Japan start trading with other nations.

In the world of Hetalia, this is shown as Kiku Honda - the personification of the country of Japan - reacting to Alfred F. Jones' (America's) arrival in his country thusly:



Later, still terrified, Japan can only think of ruses to get America to go home:



When nothing works, Japan - with great resignation - finally opens up and begins to trade with other nations.

But I sometimes wonder how much Japan has really opened that door. Since becoming an anime and manga fan, one of the things that has struck me about Japanese society and culture is how insular it is. On the surface, the Japanese have absorbed all kinds of outside influences: American movies and pop music style, English (or Engrish) words everywhere, curry and spaghetti and kaki for dessert. But Japan still seems like 127 million people who are all part of a single (and possibly - dyfunctional) family. They understand each other - but to outsiders, they are a closed book.

This is a nation that believed that avoiding contact with the outside world for 200 years was a good idea - until one day, near Tokyo Bay, black ships arrived with big, enormous guns. (I can just see it now - the Japanese generals standing at the harbor, looking at those big guns and saying: "Oh.")

They had no answer for such weaponry. Their response was to start modernizing their weapons and methods of manufacture. And they went off to war with China, Russia, then China again; until WWII began - and we all know what happened then.

Since the end of WWII - and the effective end of Japanese militarism - it's Japan's economy that has been the focus. From the 1960s through the early 1980s their economy was the envy of the industrialized world; but it has been stagnant for years since then. One reason might be the rigid corporate structure, with its salaryman workaholism and hidebound gender roles (i.e., women employees as "tea ladies," seen as only working until they can get married and have children). In today's globalizing world, their corporations appear to be too bound by traditions that don't carry over effectively to a changing international business environment.

One could argue that individual countries have the right to be monocultures and to maintain myopic, insular business models. Japan is still the second largest economy in the world and has achieved much to be justifiably proud of. But Japan only has 40 percent food self-sufficiency and 100 percent dependency on outside sources for energy (i.e., oil). Such facts dictate that flexibility, openness to outside ideas and willingness to do whatever pragmatically works to reinvigorate one's economy should take precedence over clinging stubbornly to "the way we've always done it."

I see China and India sending their young to be educated and work overseas, and returning home with experience in different business models - and I worry about Japan. Their 'postwar miracle' days are long behind them, and their birth rate is falling at an alarming pace. Not only their prosperity, but their people are literally disappearing. I fear that as Japan continues to restrict immigration, maintain old dinosaur ways of doing business, and operate as a severely gender-stratified society that China and the other Asian nations are eating Japan's lunch. That island-nation mentality still remains; and the image of Japan as hikikomori, playing video games and surfing the net with his door firmly shut while the outside world undergoes enormous social and business changes, is troubling.

There may be hope yet for a change of outlook. As a cheery America shares with Japan:



The world is more interconnected now and no country - particularly not energy-dependent Japan - could in reality isolate itself from the world these days. But the image of little Kiku slamming that door still resonates.

Translated panels from http://aph.starry-sky.com.

Hetalia and World Peace

In the past two weeks since I last wrote about Hetalia: Axis Powers, I’ve had happen to me what happens to all fans at times – and you can never predict which series will do it. I’ve suddenly become completely addicted to the series. And in experiencing the Hetalia universe more fully, I’ve also discovered that it inspires a unique reaction in its fans.

Hetalia: Axis Powers is a comedy about personified countries, particularly the major players involved in WWI and WWII. The comedy can be extremely broad, even outrageous at times, and all of the characters are ridiculous – and lovable.

Germany is a big muscular stiffneck, a rigid rule-follower with an unexpected soft spot in his heart for the cowardly and happy-go-lucky Italy. Japan is introverted and sexually repressed. America is irritatingly cheerful, issuing directives to all in a loud and dorky voice. When asked to find Japan on the map, America opens his map and can’t find it; because America’s world map only shows America and nowhere else. England is sardonic, intelligent and cunning, but he also cavorts with fairies and unicorns. France is a drama queen and sex addict; Russia has a split personality with an evil twin side; and China gets berated by England for building Chinatowns wherever he goes - even inside the Allied conference room.

Creator Hidekaz Himaruya quite possibly only intended to be cute and clever with Hetalia, and not profound in any way. But whatever Himaruya originally envisioned his universe of Hetalia to be, the fans have now taken over and made it into yet another thing. There is now an enormous amount of Hetalia fan fiction, art, and music videos to be found across the fanscape. And the series has inspired thoughtful reflections from the fans. Some comments from You Tube: “Hetalia is the best Anime that ever happened to the world! If our world leaders watched it, maybe we could all get along? xD” is one. Another one: “sometimes i wonder if this anime could change the world.”

At one point in the series America steals Germany’s diary, and the Allies read Germany’s daily account of how Italy drives him insane. “But he’s my only friend,” Germany concludes. The Allies fall silent at this. The countries being depicted as regular people opens a window to recognizing them as us – which means, ultimately, there is no “them” out there: just all of “us.”

Will Hetalia actually bring world peace? Yes, it’s a stretch, but world wars don’t start in a day, and world peace probably comes into being bit by bit as well. Should the world’s major powers ever head down the path to world war again – God forbid – it’s now likely that young people, instead of accepting without question the old stereotypes their grandparents taught them, will be more apt to recall Hetalia’s Germany screaming hoarsely at Italy that he’s gotten it backwards, that it’s the pin you keep in your mouth after pulling, you idiot, not the grenade; or England throttling America after America insults his cooking; or France tricking the other countries into taking their clothes off for Christmas; or any other of the bizarre, off-the-wall, crazy moments in the Hetalia universe. Stereotypes dissolve in the face of humor, because just under the surface of humor is the humanity we all share.

So, if one end of the Hetalia reactivity scale is, It's offensive, disrespectful and shouldn't be allowed at all and the other end is, This will bring world peace at last! ...I think it's fair to say that Hetalia: Axis Powers is legitimately somewhere in the middle. And I would add: leaning heavily toward the world peace end.

Hetalia: Axis Powers

In an entertainment universe that routinely features stories involving giant robots, maid fetishes, schoolboys with supernatural powers, and demons, you might think there is no ground left uncovered in Japanese manga and anime; that everything has been done at least twice already.

And then something like Hetalia: Axis Powers comes along.

It would be difficult to imagine anything more controversial or provocative – or hilarious – than Hetalia: Axis Powers. Set in the period between WWI and WWII, Hetalia features the Axis nations (Germany, Japan and Italy) and the Allies (America, England, France, Russia and China) as anthropomorphized characters – in other words, the countries are represented by people. “Hetalia” is a created word – it’s a combination of hetare (Japanese for “useless”) and Italia (Italy). In other words: “Useless Italy.”

Germany is a stern, rigid, by-the-rulebook kind of guy; Japan is small, quiet, and uncertain of his place among the other nations; and Italy is a happy-go-lucky young man who is fond of pasta dishes and possesses a collection of white flags with which to surrender to the enemy.

Here are the Allies:

America is the tall, cheery young man with glasses and a bomber jacket; England is the one with the huge eyebrows; France, the blond, is a fey metrosexual who flirts with both sexes; Russia, in gray, seems calm and gentle, but his cruel and bloody history has actually left him a trifle unhinged (in one episode, he jumps sans parachute from an airplane as it flies over snow-capped mountains, saying simply, “snow is really soft”); and finally, China is the suave guy with a ponytail. He acts as the elder brother of the Asian nations.

Hetalia: Axis Powers began life as a webcomic. It was later published in hardcopy manga format, and finally was produced as an online anime series, now in its second season. When the first season of the anime was about to be broadcast on TV in Japan, Hetalia’s creator, Hidekaz Himaruya, a 23-year-old design student in Tokyo, began receiving death threats from Koreans.

And Korea isn’t even in the anime.

Mr. Himaruya has since fled Tokyo, and now lives in New York City.

What makes Hetalia unique? Besides characterizing the nations of the world with stereotypes and insults and presenting wholly inaccurate views of historical events – which I don’t think any other anime or manga has ever done (or, to be honest, has probably ever wanted to do) – it has a crazy-quilt storytelling format, with bits and pieces of various storylines appearing, disappearing and unexpectedly reappearing in later episodes. And, oh…

Each episode is only five minutes long.

Hah?

Not only that, but every episode begins with the grandiose title opening, and ends with a cutesy animation and song – and sometimes even a preview of the next episode – thus leaving approximately 3:50 for the actual episode itself.

It’s hard to describe what a typical episode of Hetalia is like, but you could do worse than to watch Episodes 18, 19 and 20 as samples. Episode 18 features the Allies surprising the Axis nations, who are sitting around a campfire on the beach of a deserted island, and capturing them. They do this by America calling out China – “China, I CHOOSE YOU!” – much like Ash Ketchum calling out Pikachu from his Pokeball. China proceeds to bash Germany and Japan with a wok (a wok!), while Italy, naturally, begs not to get hit as he frantically waves one of his white surrender flags.

Canada makes his first appearance in Episode 19. Canada is a doppelganger-type twin to America – the two characters have the same face – and he carries a pet polar bear, who always forgets his master’s name. The joke here is that this is because Canada is… forgettable. In this episode, Canada appears as a ghostly, spectral figure at an Allied summit, patiently waiting his turn to speak, which of course never comes.

In Episode 20, the “America’s Storage Cleaning” storyline finally reaches its climax. As America cleans out his basement, he finds a musket with a scratch on it. He then recalls a moment on the battlefield during the Revolutionary War when England knocked the musket out of his hand, but then sank to his knees weeping, unable to deliver the killing blow to the boy he raised. It’s a scene that proves that even in the most absurdist animes, in the midst of ribald weirdness, there are moments that can suddenly and honestly move you to tears.

That’s anime for you, at its best.

If you’re already accustomed to out-there anime – as a past viewer of Nerima Daikon Brothers, say, or Bobobo-bo Bo-bobo – Hetalia: Axis Powers will probably not be too much of a stretch for you.

If, however, this is your first introduction to anime – you’ll either run screaming… or be hooked for life.