[EN_Column] You can write endless columns - The simmering issue underneath

My summer break is scheduled from July 27 to August 27 (though it might extend to the 31st since I received a notification email on August 1). This essentially means I'm currently in a free period.

While new memberships cannot be registered, making this different from a typical subscription, I thought this might be a good time for me to create content more freely.

I actually have about 15 columns that I had written earlier but missed the right timing to release. However, they still need to be finalized, so I can't release them all at once. But I plan to throw them out there like a gorilla, one after another.

That said, since some time has passed since I started writing this, the total number of posts might not be very high.

/ The first one right off the bat. Talking about your favorite piece(?).

First, they throw the first turd at you. As the column progresses toward the latter half, it might increasingly contain content that could hurt specific people.

When I took a moment to reflect on the works I've read and the ones I love, which serve as my sources of inspiration, I realized once again that my tastes are not really geared toward an international audience.

First of all, I don't particularly like Shonen Jump works. It's not that I hate them; I just don't like them. However, there are a few series I read regularly on Jump+. My favorite is "Sachi-roku" by Chanta-sensei.

It's not that I've never encountered weekly manga, but none of them really grabbed me. They all felt somewhat "fake," making it hard for me to get into them.

One of my favorite manga artists is Reiji Yamada, who once wrote a documentary dialogue manga titled "Medicine for Despair." In it, a character tells him, "Don't draw a lie that seems like the truth; instead, draw a truth that seems like a lie." To me, many Shonen Jump works feel like "a lie that seems like the truth."

However, this may have a lot to do with the "gender gap" which I might discuss later.

; 0% if "about" is added - A deviation from what is Manga

A few months ago, there was news about a startup company engaged in AI translation of manga, which received over 2.9 billion yen in investment from major corporations, large publishers, and the government.

While there's much debate over the merits of AI translation, discussing the predicted background behind it would be lengthy and off-topic, so I'll set that aside for now.

Even though Japanese manga is said to be popular overseas, it's estimated that only about 2% of all manga are translated. The majority of these are Shonen Jump works, followed by those that have been adapted into anime.

In other words, it's not an exaggeration to say that most overseas anime fans are also fans of Shonen Jump works. Therefore, it’s likely that overseas anime fans read more Jump works than I do. Even Noah Lyles, the track and field athlete, often references Jump works in his otaku-themed posts.

If someone says they've read something from a minor work, there's a high chance it was fan-made, meaning it's likely illegal or a copyright violation. The fact that this is so widespread shows that many Japanese companies aren't investing much in translation. Even when translations are commissioned, there's distrust due to incidents like with Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid and The Dangers in My Heart, where translators injected their own unrelated ideologies into the works. This may be one reason for the interest in AI translation.

In simple terms, it makes me think that if the works I like aren't translated, it might be difficult to imbue my own creations with elements that resonate with a broader audience. Some people talk about how the series they enjoy gets canceled, but in my case, the manga I like finishes quietly without becoming a big topic, isn't adapted into anime, and then the author disappears. It might be disrespectful to give specific examples, so I'll refrain from doing so.

At the very least, I've always had this annoying tendency of not liking "popular things." Adding to what I mentioned earlier, I think it's also about disliking clichés, which I believe is something everyone feels to some extent. Honestly, I wish I could have simply enjoyed and loved things like Dragon Ball, One Piece, Jujutsu Kaisen, and Naruto. But somehow, even if I'm enjoying the story, the moment it hits that typical Jump cliché, I just think, "This is so cheesy," and stop reading. But then, when I read reviews, I see comments like, "It finally got interesting," right at the point where it followed that Jump cliché.

Of course, that just means it's the kind of development Jump readers are looking for, so it's natural for someone like me to feel left out. Still, it sometimes makes me feel a little lonely.

I think this is true in any country, but not just in manga--any work that becomes a big hit reflects what people of that era were seeking or vaguely thinking. Conversely, one could say that after becoming a big hit and being seen by many, it also standardizes thoughts through shared understanding.

In short, the most widely read works, i.e., Jump works, create the atmosphere of the manga and anime media, and they also represent the voice of the majority.

; An example of being a spokesperson. But I can't talk about it here.

If I start talking about the spokesperson for my feelings here, it might reveal my age, but I thought I would reference a recently popular work both domestically and internationally. Well, to be honest, Japan has been living through what is called the "Lost 30 Years (soon to be 40)" since the bubble burst, so consider it something that encompasses that generation.

What I want to reference here is Attack on Titan.

You might think, "Wait a minute, isn't that a super popular work?" But that work is incredibly unique and exceptional, even in terms of its artwork.

No, to put it differently, it's a work that deeply resonates with the generation that came after Hajime Isayama. Even if they can't fully articulate what each event symbolizes, they can sense it. So rather than quoting directly from the work, I think it's more about referencing the era in which Hajime Isayama lived.

One more thing to add, Attack on Titan doesn't mesh well with erotic content, so it's difficult to use as a reference from that perspective.

; Jadis, si je me souviens bien...

Let's immediately trace back to the era in which Isayama-sensei lived. This will be a long one.

Born in 1986, he shares the same birth year with ONE-sensei of One Punch Man, Horikoshi Kohei-sensei of My Hero Academia, and Ishida Sui-sensei of Tokyo Ghoul. What an extraordinary generation.

At that time, Jump had surpassed 4.2 million copies in circulation, and Dragon Ball was still being serialized. Monthly Shonen Magazine, where Attack on Titan would later be serialized, was known for its delinquent and sexy stories, characteristic of the magazine. The Chernobyl nuclear disaster occurred, and the Plaza Accord from the previous year led to the bubble economy.

The bubble economy was an era where money flowed in without any effort, to the point where it could be said that Japan had lost its mind. However, by 1993, when he was about to enter elementary school and begin forming a clearer self-consciousness, the bubble had already burst. Two years later, in 1995, the Great Hanshin-Awaji Earthquake and the Tokyo subway sarin attack by a cult group took place.

When researching the bubble economy, you might come across "Juliana's Tokyo," a famous disco that symbolizes the era. It operated from 1991 to 1994, during the collapse, but the adults who didn't want to believe in the bubble's end continued to dance, turning a blind eye. However, 1995 was the year when the bubble finally collapsed mentally as well. Neon Genesis Evangelion began airing that year, but it was only broadcast in limited areas, so it's unlikely he saw it in real-time.

In 1996, Pokemon Red and Green were released. It's unclear whether young Isayama, who was exactly the target age, picked up the game, but this marked the point where the mental age of this generation seemingly froze. The anime began airing the following year, and Takeshi Shudo, who was initially in charge of the series composition, planned to end it in the third year with a "dream" sequence that brought the characters back to reality. However, as the series extended beyond a decade, that scenario was scrapped, leaving the children stuck without maturing.

As an aside, elements of that scrapped scenario were carried over after Shudo’s death, and the originally intended finale was instead depicted as a dream Ash experiences in the 20th movie, Pokémon the Movie: I Choose You!.

In 1997, the Kobe child murders occurred. This grisly incident involved a 14-year-old boy who killed five elementary school students. The most shocking detail was that the severed head of one of the victims was placed at the front gate of a junior high school, with a note of the perpetrator’s confession inserted into the mouth.

In 1998, the annual suicide rate exceeded 32,000 people, meaning 100 people were taking their lives every day. Among them, over 700 people were under the age of 19. Massive layoffs due to corporate restructuring created widespread job insecurity, and bullying in schools became a severe issue. Likely, some of those affected began writing detailed depictions of bullying in their novels on platforms like "Shōsetsuka ni Narō."

(The following text enclosed in === is translated by DeepL because AI-kun refused to translate it.)

===

Entered junior high school in 1999, the most sensitive period. The "Yamamba, Ganguro" or other alternative fashions become popular among high school girls and other fashion trends. The girls wore not only suntan but also extreme black makeup, pure white lipstick, large amounts of pure white eye shadow, gaudiness false eyelashes, face stickers, mini-skirts, and loose socks that were so loose that even the gals who wore relatively little makeup didn't mind getting dirt on their loose socks. Even the gals with relatively low make-up were walking around without worrying about getting dirt on their dull socks.

Some of them were called "Dirty Gyaru" who did not take a bath and only wiped their teeth with a tissue because they did not remove their makeup, as was broadcast on TV.

In other words, it could be said that this was the year when women became dirty and people stopped having illusions about women (of course, there were people whose sexuality was destroyed by this).

In the case of Mr. Isayama, he had an older sister and a younger sister, so perhaps it would be more accurate to say that it was the year he stopped having illusions about other women.

Perhaps this sense of femininity may have played a part in his later comment that "romance" is a silly thing to think about. Of course, he probably meant it from a socially conscious point of view, saying, "Look at what is happening in reality, not just love and romance".

Another problem with women is that they are also involved in Enjo kōsai. In other words, girl prostitution. It was a time when girls came at a price.

As I have described, those born in '86 up to puberty (and beyond) grow up in a very grotesque world. In an era when Japan was falling further and further, the media categorized those born between 1982 and 1986 as "the generation of 17-year-olds who lost their temper", "the generation of crimes without reason" and "the generation of sakekibara", as if they were the reserve army of criminals, as if this dark cause was being forced upon the young people.

The number of manga in which people die absurdly in varying degrees of gore and inexcusability also increased HELLSING, Dragonhead, Battle Royale and so on.

Incidentally, Battle Royale is a very important and symbolic work. Regardless of the story's details, its structure represents the "examination war". Students are forced to fight against their classmates, who should have been friends and comrades, in order to survive within a system created by adults. This continues to this day, but by the time of Attack on Titan, the situation had changed slightly, and in later works, a full-scale division begins.

However, on the other hand, the anime version of One Piece began broadcasting. Adventures full of excitement, thrill, and hope were displayed on television. Despite each character having their own sorrows, they barely cared about them and never despaired about the future. They would enthusiastically exclaim "I'm hungry!" and enjoy eating manga-style meat while pursuing their goal of becoming the Pirate King. In the streets, "Komuro Sound," which had a lingering scent of the bubble era, played. Bands that expressed gratitude for seemingly everything and those singing songs that celebrated youth increased. The CD of Dango 3 Kyodai a song for preschool children, became the all-time best-selling hit with about 2.9 million copies sold, and society sought things that didn't require thinking, becoming more infantilized.

The feeling of "fakeness" that I sense in One Piece might come from this kind of gap. Perhaps the generation that loves One Piece the most in Japan is those born in the 1970s (or a bit earlier). They grew up enjoying the benefits of the bubble economy during their student years, but by the time they became working adults or a few years after, it had disappeared. They are the generation that was still searching for that good economy, thinking it might be sleeping somewhere. In other words, they are the same generation as Eiichiro Oda-sensei, but the Japan that Oda-sensei and Isayama-sensei lived in are completely different.

I'm sorry if this sounds like I'm mocking them...

Still, at the same time, as a counterculture in the music field, "Visual Kei" emerged.

Fans who were passionate about Visual Kei bands like "DIR EN GREY," which always sang about "pain," adopted fashion stemming from punk and gothic lolita styles, and sought reality through pain by engaging in wrist-cutting with box cutters. Blood and wounds became symbols of reality. That's why this generation loves depictions of bodily mutilation.

Why do they seek pain and hurt themselves?

It's not resignation, but rather self-harm as a means to wake up from a dreamy society that has stopped thinking about anything.

The box cutter, which continues to be relevant today, is a symbol of pain, self-harm, and the grotesque. In fiction, there were many depictions of using these easily accessible and cheap blades, available at 100-yen shops that were increasing in number, as weapons in crimes.

In Evangelion, the Progressive Knife, which is the weapon of Unit-02 piloted by Asuka, is modeled after a box cutter, and Asuka herself is a projection of middle school students at that time.

In a certain work that dragged me into the swamp of bishoujo games, there was a depiction of a crime where a boy slashes the carotid artery of a large yakuza man with a box cutter.

In Attack on Titan, the ultra-hard steel blades of the anti-Titan equipment, the ODM gear, are modeled after box cutters, and they are wielded by a relatively young generation. I read somewhere that the model for the Titans was drunk customers at izakayas who used to cause trouble, so if that's true, the opponents they're fighting are those kinds of adults.

The box cutter is a symbol of pain and the grotesque, while also being a symbol of youth rebellion. Although it's better than infantilization, it shows they still haven't escaped from being students.

However, from that perspective, it's also symbolic that the weapons used by the Survey Corps are updated around the time the overall atmosphere of the corps changes.

2001, needless to say, was September 11 attacks. The "illusion of heroes" disappeared, and people realized that those who truly help are not heroes in tight spandex, but soldiers and firefighters who are working hard in reality with their feet on the ground. This background leads to the 2008 release of "The Dark Knight". This movie had a considerable impact on Japanese men, to the point where it was mocked that "you can please men just by bringing up The Dark Knight in conversation."

Jumping ahead a bit to 2005, Isayama-sensei entered the manga department of a design vocational school, and in the fateful year of 2006, he won an honorable mention for "Attack on Titan" at the Magazine Grand Prix. This work can be read as Volume 0 (it's impossible to get new as it was a first-press bonus with the first DVD volume of the anime).

It's significant that Isayama-sensei entered a vocational school rather than an art university.

The term "Art University Manga" might be unfamiliar outside Japan. This doesn't refer to manga about art students or art itself, but rather is used, somewhat mockingly, to describe works by manga artists who graduated from art universities.

Studying art systematically allows one to learn techniques, history, and principles without having to research or discover them on their own, and they can produce works that are quite good, scoring around 80 points, so to speak. However, in this process, the artist's unique "quirkiness" or distorted aspects get smoothed out. It might be used to mock manga drawn with technique rather than sense in the manga world, which is thought to be purely about talent. At least, such works are not famous enough to be translated.

Then, is "Vocational School Manga" any better? In my perception, it's an even more derogatory term. While the school in question might be good, many vocational schools teach content that could be learned without attending school, and their instructors often couldn't become university professors and lack real-world experience, so there's an impression that there isn't much you can only learn there. By the way, I'm also a vocational school graduate.

Given these factors, that work couldn't have been created by an art university graduate. Even if they could, it might have consumed considerable effort, led to many hiatuses, and possibly resulted in the work remaining unfinished. This is quite a leap in logic, though.

/That's all for this issue.

At the very least, I believe I've been able to convey, albeit rudely through Isayama-sensei, a part of myself as someone living in Japan's ongoing "Lost n Years" era. Of course, later generations aren't experiencing exactly the same hell, but are living and accepting it in different forms. In terms of works, this might be represented by Takopi's Original Sin or Blue Period, but I'm not knowledgeable enough about these to comment further.

Although I've only covered up to a certain point, I think the background I've discussed helps explain why that masterpiece was born. However, even for a work that depicts its messages so directly without embellishment, it seems difficult to convey this atmosphere to overseas audiences.

It looks like this could go on much longer, and if I keep writing, this summer vacation might end, so I'll stop here for now. I might write a continuation if this column receives a decent response and I feel motivated.

The content was quite grotesque, but if there is a next time, it might become even more grotesque as I interweave stories from earlier generations.