Power as paperwork

Here is something I’ve seen a million times before in anime and manga: the conscientious ruler buried in the paperwork they have to finish off personally:

A prince at his desk, huge piles of paperwork piled up besides him while his assistant tells him off

This is taken from *deep breath* Gyakkou Shita Akuyaku Reijou wa, Naze ka Maryoku wo Ushinattanode Shinsou no Reijou ni Narimasu, one of those series where the title gives you the story synopsis: “The Villainess Who Traveled Back in Time Inexplicably Lost Her Magic, so She Went Into Seclusion” and was drawn by Sakamoto Bin. It triggered me, because why is the ruler at their desk diligently doing paperwork such a well used image in the first place? Because it makes little sense for a king or emperor to do the work that could’ve been also done by some middle ranking bureaucrat. Yet here we are again, the “good prince” being kept by his duty from visiting the heroine by never ending bureaucracy. Why is this such an enduring image?

It may just be that Japanese business and government alike is incredibly bureaucratic in structure, terribly fond of paperwork for the sake of paperwork. Even though this wouldn’t make sense in a medieval kingdom to have this bureaucracy in the first place, ti may just be a question of the writer (subconsciously) projecting their own society’s peculiarities onto their creation. Or, like so much else in anime & manga, the writer imitating other writers, just like every city in isekai forms a perfectly round circle. Just one more cliche that everybody understands even if its wrong.

(Hi yes, it has been a month and a half since the last post. That’s what you get when you have a new, huge house to explore and decorate. Hopefully somewhat more regular posting will resume from now on.)

Love in a Time of Covid — Friday Funnies

It’s 2020, the Covid pandemic has hit Japan and even the black company Nokoru Mitsuhashi works for was forced to send him to work from home. Working from home has its perks for Nokoru: no more commuting, not being forced to wear a suit, getting to slowly know and having a chance at romance with his graduate student neighbour, Natsu Izumi…

Natsu Izumi leaning over Nokoru Mitsuhashi, almost kissing him

Telework Yotabanashi is a short, twenty chapters long adult romance manga by Yamada Kintetsu. And when I say adult, I mean this is a romance story about actual adult with actual adult concerns and which is honest about how actual romance works in the real world.

Nokoru orders condoms online for the first time his neighbour stays the night as a gentleman must be prepared for all eventualities

What I like about Telework Yotabanashi is how realistic it is in how Nokuru & Natsu’s relationship evolves from casual acquaintances to lovers. They get to know each other, there’s a bit of romantic tension almost from the start and when they make it official, it’s by talking about it like adults. She borrows his manga, he her books on Angor Wat. The snacks she brings him as ‘payment’ for the loans he starts stocking himself as finds he likes them. When they’re playing games together, she brings her chair over. Little things like that.

It also impressed me that there were no over the top romantic gestures or impulsive actions that made their relationship official, but rather that they talked about it to make it so. It makes so much sense considering their characters. Nokuru is one of those people who need to understand things completely before committing himself — he works in IT after all — but he’s not willfully ignorant. Natsu is the more forward one of the two, more of an extrovert, but not a manic pixie dream girl by any measure. From the start you know these two will end up together even if Nokuru, who’s narrating all this, hadn’t announced this was the story of how he met his wife.

Nokoru reflects on the benefits of being able to get out of bed ten minutes before work starts and reading a bit of manga with breakfast

In all, a smart, cute little romance story you can read in an hour or two and one that feels contemporary. The usual high school romances that manga is full off can give off the feeling of being set in a largely unchanging world where only the model of cell phones (or lack thereof) betray in which year the manga was created. Here, you’re in no doubt that this is set in 2020. I rarely felt so seen too as in that panel above, because that’s one of the main benefits for me too, that extra time not spent commuting.

Love My Life — Friday Funnies

Yamaji Ebine’s Love My Life starts with Ichiko Izumiya coming out to her father as a lesbian, only to have the tables turned on her:

Ichiko asking her father if he was surprised at her being lesbian. He answers that he was as he thought that she sure was the child of her parents. Turns out he is gay as well

As it turns out, Ichiko’s father and deceased mother were both gay, best friends and decided to raise a child together. Her mother had asked her father never to mention this, but now she herself turned out to queer herself, he saw no reason not to. And while they were married and living together, they each still had their other, gay lovers. Coming out is difficult enough already, but having to also digest your parents’ own secret gay history must be doubly so.

Ellie talking about her father who would lock her in a psychiatric ward if he found her breat to breast with another woman

Processing the realities of her father’s gayness is just one of the things Ichiko has to wrestle with in this twelve chapter, single volume story. Eighteen years old, Ichiko is in her first relationship with Ellie Jyojima, three years older than her, a college student studying law. Unlike Ichiko, Ellie has been in several relationships before, both with men — before she realised she was lesbian — and women. Ellie is less fortunate than Ichiko, coming from a traditional family with a father who finds homosexuality “a mental illness”. The realities of having to deal with homophobia and the need for people to stay in the closet to their family, friends or work is a red thread through the story. It’s not just Ellie having to deal with hiding her queerness from her father or when running across a male ex-lover by accident, but also the more mundane realisation that people would see them as just friends when going out together.

Take-chan feels trapped being seen as a straight man and longs to come out

Or, the other side of the coin, people gossiping in college about Ichiko and Take-chan, a gay male friend, as obviously going out because they spent time together. He feels frustrated, trapped at being made to play the role of a straight man, but also doesn’t feel courageous enough to make that step out of the closet. Having overheard how people talk about gay men, he’s in no hurry to leave its safety and who can blame him. Instead he shares his frustrations and concerns with Ichiko, who does the same with him as well as her girlfriend. I like their friendship, that sort of outsider allyship that is quite common among queer people, sharing the same sort of experiences living in a heteronormative society. In general it’s good to see more queer people inhabiting this story than just Ichiko and Ellie. Take-chan, his boyfriend, as well as Ichiko’s father’s boyfriend, the old girlfriend of her mother Ichiko runs into, now in a new relationship, even a bald headed girl Ichiko has a short crush on in a later chapter, all drift and out of the story as required, all adding to the verisimilitude of it. This not some fantasy world where everybody is queer, nor the sort of story where only the protagonist and their love interest is.

Take-chan feels trapped being seen as a straight man and longs to come out

What also adds to the realism of Love My Life is that Ichiko and Ellie have a healthy sex life. It’s established from the start that they fuck and they like it, that part of their attraction to each other is physical and neither is embarrassed about this. It’s a refreshingly adult take that never felt exploitative or done for the sake of fan service. It’s refreshing when so many yuri manga are about high school romances where hand holding is the worst the characters get up to.

Caption: can you feel my hands and my warmth? as Ellie goes down on Ichiko

This is a very dialogue heavy manga as you may have figured out, but Yamaji Ebine’s art should not go unmentioned. With such a personal story it’s unsurprising that most of the art’s focus is on the characters, rather than the world they inhibit. Backgrounds are often left out when unnecessary, only when it’s necessary to establish a location do we get establishing shots, more functional than artistic. There aren’t the exaggerated emotions, few if any of the comedy deformations you might expect from a manga. Yamaji Ebine has a knack of nailing a character’s look with just a few lines: of course the driven, law student Ellie would have an almost Patrick Nagel-esque, sharp hairstyle. Of course the more sheltered and naive Ichiko looks a bit more fluffy in both hair and body.

Love My Life was serialised in Feel Young, a monthly magazine aimed at young women, in 2000 and 2001 before being released as a single volume manga. According to the afterword, Yamaji Ebine “this is where I began my career”. Although she had debuted several years before, she had stopped creating manga until Ichiko popped fully formed from her mind while reading a book by a female American writer. As far as I’m aware it has never been officially translated in English. Currently the only way to read it in English is through Mangadex. I hope somebody (Seven Seas?) does pick it up at some point; this is too good to languish in obscurity overseas.

Translating means rewriting too — Martin’s increasingly petty translation rules

A manga panel showing text balloons with the text from this book I learned all about magic

You can feel it sometimes, can’t you? You’re reading a manga or a light novel and while the English seems fine and you can understand what’s being said, but it still feels off somehow? Especially if you’re being a bit naughty and reading a scanlation. It’s readable, but it doesn’t flow nicely. Like in that example to the left I came across today. That’s not the way we’d structure that sentence in English, is it? You’d normally say “I learned all about magic from this book”, not the other way around. But if you understand Japanese enough to follow the flow when watching subbed anime, you may have noticed that its sentence structure is different from English, often switched around from what you’d expect in English. In Japanese, that sentence makes sense; in English it’s still perfectly understandable but doesn’t flow.

Which is one of the most obvious, simplest reasons why you just cannot translate text like this and not rewrite it. Not to shame the person who did this translation, but this is very much a first draft attempt. What they should’ve done next is walk critically through the entire text and rewrite and remove any such awkwardness. Because while this manga might be readable, all these little errors and awkwardnesses make it harder to enjoy it. Not that I mind too much when it comes to amateur translators doing this as a hobby. It’s not as bad as e.g a supposedly professional translator not realising something is an idiom and translating it literally, just awkward. Not that I haven’t seen that same mistake done in scanlation, one time the translator had used the literal Korean saying, which made no sense in English, then had added the English equivalent in a translator note. At which point you’re being deliberately obtuse, but it touches upon one of the greater sins of scanlation. A misguided desire to keep the translation as close to the original as possible, even if it comes at the expense of readability, to make it seem as Japanese (or Korean…) as possible in English.

I understand that desire, really I do! You want to give people as close to the same experience as you, who can read Japanese. But it makes your translations suck. English awkwardly constructed to function as much as possible as Japanese suck. Endless repetitions of the unnatural “this child” when referring to somebody rather than using a proper pronoun or even their fucking name sucks. Not translating names or phrases when there are perfectly good English equivalents sucks. Yes, you shouldn’t translate onigiri as jelly donuts but rice balls gets the meaning across just as well. You can translate 水に流す (mizu ni nagasu) as “water flows”, but “It’s all water under the bridge” is better understood. (From.) Translating means rewriting, to make your prose flow better, read more easily and be more understandable to your audience. If you don’t, you’re only doing half your job.

Your Happening World (weeaboo edition)

A desperate attempt to clean out some browser tabs, this time focused on anime & manga.

  • Mutsumi Inomata and Atsuko Ishida Discussion on 80s Cute Girls Anime — I swore I would never translate something as long as the six-part Akio Sugino interview ever again, yet this one is not far off in length… That said, thankfully, this one was not nearly as painful to translate. Maybe I’m getting better at this, though I find that unlikely. Anyway, I’m probably going to take a break again. The pendulum has swung too far into reading about anime and not actually watching it. It’s time for the pendulum to swing back.
  • Mizuki Shigeru and American Horror Comics — When you think of influences on Japanese comic book legend Mizuki Shigeru, names like Basil Wolverton, Bob Powell, and Warren Kremmer don’t usually spring to mind. After all, those artists drew for 1950s American horror comics like Tomb of Terror and Crypt of Horror. They hardly seem like source material for a young man thousands of miles across the ocean. Where would he find them? And if he did find them, how could he read them?
  • Students, statistics, and bloodthirsty beasts — Gunparade March is a game that’s constantly refreshing itself and expanding its own horizons, always finding new ways to surprise you (and itself), the flexible and highly interdependent nature of its many, many, systems allowing new situations to manifest in the same way a butterfly flapping its wings may end up creating a hurricane.
  • How to make an “unwatchable” tv series into a tight OVA — What Japan got instead was something called AWOL Compression Re-MIX, which truncated the entire production from twelve 24-minute episodes into four OVAs which were released on VHS & LD from August to December the same year; episodes 1-3 are around 53 minutes long, while episode 4 is around 43 minutes. Taking into consideration the fact that the OP & ED are only used four times instead of twelve, roughly four episodes worth of content was removed to compress everything! Does that make AWOL actually watchable now? Hell, is it as “speedy & powerful” as it’s claimed to have been made into?