Entries tagged with “thoughtful”.


In reading this post about representation and Lucky Star, I ended up thinking about how I feel about creative works versus the people behind the creative works.

With music, I largely separate the two because I find that combining them often dampens my enjoyment of the piece – it’s not a certain rule, but it happens enough that I actively avoid finding out too much about the people behind the bands I like. The problem lies mainly the fact that song x makes me feel y and if creator z turns out to be a total jerk then I will forever associate song x with z being a jerk.

However sometimes when the person is going out of their way to be a top level jackass (I’m looking at you, Amanda Palmer) you can’t continue to support them just because you like their music because that music pays their bills and if you support it, then you are perpetuating them being a jackass and they will not learn any lessons.

But sometimes this just happens because I discover the people are someone I can’t personally respect. They aren’t really doing anything horrible, I just wouldn’t be able to handle being friends with them. Or, y’know, hang out in the same room with them, most likely. Music is music, and while there’s something to be said about music conveying a particular message written in by the creator, I’m more on the side of music making you feel what it makes you feel and the way you interpret it is correct for you and there is no “wrong” way to enjoy it. Mostly.
But music is a more personal subject for me than, say, anime series.

I don’t typically look up who writes what. I tend to not know if x was written by a boy or a girl unless I’ve been told for some reason, although I’m aware that a lot of the stuff I’ve come to love falls into the 青年 (seinen) category – series targeted at males 18-30 or so, and as you might imagine, a lot of those authors are males.

Do I particularly care? Not really. If I like the series and can relate to the characters, why should it matter who wrote it?
But I can see the unease in having an all-female cast scripted by someone who isn’t female – I’d actually feel a similar unease being pointedly introduced to a series full of males written by a non-male. Equal opportunity weirdness.

It’s not as though people who are one sex/gender cannot understand people who are the opposite sex/gender well enough to write them – certainly the guys who wrote Lucky★Star and K-ON! were good enough to hook me – but, as a writer, I do think it’s more difficult. Both of those series are pretty fluffy, which means that stereotypes are A-OK and they’re what the story plays off of… the little story that there is, anyway. When a plot begins to delve really deeply into the interpersonal relationships and conflicts of one sex/gender, a lot more experience and knowledge is required – and that’s something I think many people don’t have. I’d even be hard pressed to say I have comprehensive experience in all-female relationships, even though I’m possibly adequately qualified to write about such things, being a girl, identifying as a girl and having friends who are girls.

But subject matter takes over here. Thinking about other all-female casts brings me to series like Azumanga Daioh and Kanamemo. Both cute, both seinen, but while Azumanga is written by a non-female, Kanamemo is actually written by Iwami Shouko, who is female. (Japanese wiki page confirms)
I did like both series… to a point.

Azumanga is a series about nothing, same as Lucky Star, but with one important, creepy addition: this guy. Kimura-sensei. A rather sketchy teacher who admits to wanting to be specifically employed at a high school because he likes high school girls. He develops a creepy attachment to Kaorin who is understandably horrified, and although he doesn’t commit any serious atrocities in the context of the story, his creepy factor is way up there. He actually requests a a glass of pool water that the swimming club has been in at their cultural festival booth. Yeah. That kind of creepy.

The problem with Kimura is, well, he’s supposed to be funny. Like, “ha ha oh you pervert. Welp, nothin’ we can do about him.” No one outright condones his behavior, or praises him for it, in fact, everyone that encounters it sports at least moderately horrified expressions, but it’s allowed to continue. No one reports him to a superior, and he’s not likely to get fired for questionable morals and motives. (He also inexplicably has a pretty, air-headed wife.) He never crosses into the category of even vaguely attractive, and you know he’s creepy from his first appearance, but I’m really uncomfortable with his existence in an otherwise pretty relaxed and fluffy world.

Kanamemo has a similar problem – Haruka, a university student who lives and works at the newspaper delivery office, has a suspicious fondness for pre-pubescent girls. She follows the general drunken salaryman stereotype in this manner, harassing Saki, the elementary school aged assistant chief of the company. In the swimsuit/musical episode, it becomes painfully clear that her interest in them goes beyond “oh little girls are cute” as she sings about how, not having much to hold them in place, young girls’ swimsuits are apt to slip and expose something.

Haruka is “reprimanded” in the typical fashion of disapproving looks and maybe a smack or two, but she’s allowed to continue to live there and her behavior to continue. Again, Haruka’s actions are meant to be comical – Kanamemo is a light-hearted series – but such a lenient environment for pedophilia made my stomach turn so much that I couldn’t continue watching it (even though Kana and Mika were so cute, too). The fact that Haruka is female doesn’t make it any less disturbing, nor does the fact that Kanamemo was written by a female. Creepy is creepy regardless of sex or gender.

Now, neither Azumanga nor Kanamemo are at all blatantly sexual (okay, minus the obvious yuri relationship in Kanamemo, but that’s at least consensual and of age) – but they’re clearly aimed at adults who will recognize the thought processes that Kimura and Haruka are likely having off screen.

Basically, what I’m trying to say is this: I’m far less bothered by who wrote a series than what the series contains. Anime series in general seem to contain a lot of fan service of one kind or another, and manga/4koma tend not to get picked up without a healthy dose of it (hell, even Umineko’s full of scantily clad characters and someone in charge of the anime STILL felt it was necessary to amp up the service). I’m okay with fan service to a point – the obligatory comparison of breast sizes and the working in of a swimsuit episode, even if it doesn’t make sense canonically, for example – but the inclusion of creepy characters in a setting where they will never encounter consequences is a dangerous path to walk, in my mind.

As a side note, I’m divided on the no-underage-chara bill that’s being delayed in Japan. I’m not positive that it would prevent those creepy characters from existing, just from the girls themselves from being blatantly sexualized. So does that really solve anything? Additionally, in the proper setting, such themes can make a powerful statement, but defining exactly which settings are truly appropriate gets a bit fuzzy. I don’t want to get too much further into that topic right here, though.

I enjoy stories that raise a lot of questions.
Provided, most, if not all of these questions get answered.
There is little that irritates me more about a plot/storyline than people not tying up loose ends. I suppose there’s something to be said for leaving certain things open-ended, but as far as creative works go I’d really prefer they weren’t.
I realize that in life, in reality, things are rarely so clear-cut that you can see all angles of what’s happened, and why, and maybe the why doesn’t always need to be explained but the what definitely does. People can make up their own theories as to why someone would act the way they did, but it’s important to at least know WHAT they did, in the end.
I am currently following the (amazing!) sound novel うみねこのく頃に which has, by this point, a large number of currently unsolved mysteries and unanswered questions. With only three episodes left, at best, fans are starting to worry about comments the author has made about the answers being revealed in a somewhat less-than-clear fashion. Much rage and panic has ensued on at least one forum I frequent, and I feel pretty much as they do – if Ryuukishi does not wrap things up in the end, and merely suggests that “well, if you had caught on to the clues and thought properly about it you should know the answer by now” I will be quite upset. Whether or not he knows the answer to all of those questions, I will feel that he does not, and that he has just taken us on ride with no specific itinerary in mind.
That won’t invalidate the journey we’ve taken up until that point – as one poster said, the ride itself is what is important – but he did challenge us to think, he asked for our trust, at the beginning, and to wander off without resolving things betrays that trust.
As far as things go right now, I believe Umineko will end in a manner that answers at least the big questions laid out before us. Beyond that… I don’t know. There always seem to be unanswered aspects to such stories, and I believe Higurashi left some things a little unclear, but nothing so serious as to disrupt the entire fanbase.

In my own works, I am borderline obsessed with explaining everything, to the point where it becomes somewhat unwieldy, and possibly not practical to include in the storyline itself. I’m of the mind that in order to write properly, you must understand everything about the universe you are creating, if not at the start, then certainly by about halfway through the story. The more you know, the more real it becomes, and the more likely readers are able to immerse themselves in it and thoroughly enjoy the experience. Leaving too much up to the imagination of the reader can be dangerous and often leads to plothole-like jumps of logic that are never explained. Stories that make a habit of poking fun at themselves might find these humorous, but that sort of thing can only be taken so far.

In other, unrelated news, I am pretty sure TVTropes exists only to eat my brain. So much Overused Capitalization and Naming of Things Which Probably Don’t Need To Be Named, And Certainly Not Like That…. (which, incidentally, are things I kind of love, and which is EXACTLY why I cannot spend any more time there.)

Part of what I love about living is my ability to get carried away with things… frequently things that aren’t real. Worlds that don’t exist, people who have never breathed, scenarios that are so close but so far.
I can get deep inside these things and live and breathe them for days or weeks. Usually not much longer than that.
I love emotions. Well, most of them. Fear is one I try to avoid, and thus the horror genre doesn’t factor into my obsessions much. Fear is present enough in my life as it is.
To feel is to live. For some people, that phrase means physical pain. To me, it’s emotions. Call them electrical impulses, pick apart the minute workings of the brain and nerves if you must, but I don’t care. Feeling is living.
Not feeling is dying.
Or death, depending on how seriously we’re talking.

I believe you can strengthen feelings that already exist, but you can’t create them out of nowhere. No, there has to be a trigger.
Fiction is a great trigger. Music is a wonderful trigger. Nature works sometimes, too.

I feel like someone switched me On when I was 13 and from that point I was On all the time. It’s like really hearing for the first time, like seeing for the first time, like touch – overwhelming and crushing.
If you’re On all the time, it’s hard to live. You’re a live wire, sensitive to every word, every glance, even if they don’t hold meaning. When people play with your feelings, it cuts deeply. You trust people you shouldn’t, you say things you should never say, and you throw yourself out there in an attempt to find something solid.
Being On all the time makes you crazy. Or maybe you can only be On all the time if you are already crazy.
Either way, the end result is the same. Insanity. Instability. The complete lack of any kind of rationality.

There is no emergency brake at those times. Just speeding along as everything becomes a blur.

The thrill is extreme, but your body can only endure so much.

Instability breeds bizarre solutions. Breeds mind-games within the Self, and traps. Self-preservation. Inability to be honest, because to be honest is a scary thing that is wanted and not wanted at the same time. Honesty is an obsession.

But traps are not really a brake, they don’t stop the flow, just how it’s perceived from the outside.

The idea of stopping feeling is almost as scary as continuing to feel. In this situation, the choice becomes, live, or be unable to live. Function, or fall apart. Self-preservation kicks in. Function it is, then. { After all, it’s not a problem if you can function, right? We learned that in psychology… }

The brake has been installed.

I can still get carried away, but it takes more to push me to the place where it’s pure emotion. But it’s okay, no matter how far I fall, I’ve got the brake now, right?

As long as I can reach the emergency brake…

and as long as I have the willpower to reach out for it.