Unexpected ikemen in the bagging area

Bear with me. One of the more irritating ‘controversies in anime/manga/light novel/etc fandom is the localisation versus literal debate about translations and subtitles. There’s a small but loud group of mostly rightwing fans who prefer their translation to be as literal and as much like the original Japanese as possible and who see all other translations as suspect. This usual goes hand in hand with conspiracy theories about Funimation polluting their precious bodily fluids with SJW language in their translations. The idea that there’s an art to translation, that you can’t just go word by word like some robot and expect anything good or even understandable to come out of it just doesn’t land with these people.

This hasn’t stopped professional translator Sarah Moon, here comparing the excellent, slang laden puntastic official subtitles of My Dress-UP Darling/Sono Bisque Doll wa Koi o Suru with an as literal as possible translation of the spoken Japanese. It’s brilliant and hilarious and it shows just how stilted and awkward this insistence on literalness makes things. You end up with sentences that still make some sort of sense but are just never said in English, sentences that sound as if you had a stroke. It also shows just how good the unknown translator/subtitler of the series is, being able to put so much character in such a limited space. I wish Crunchyroll and other parties would actually credit their translators (and other staff) like Hi-Dive does.

Conventional wisdom and Jethro Tull

Reinder Dijkhuis makes a good observation in his ranking of allJethro Tull/Ian Anderson albums:

[…]the conventional wisdom is kind of a distillation of the experiences of many people over time. They like a band or artist because of certain things that appear musically, or because of the contributions of certain players, and the best records according to their combined experiences are the ones that most resemble those musical elements or most prominently feature those contributions. If you’re new to a band that’s been around for half a century, the conventional wisdom is useful knowledge. Another way of putting it is that only someone who does not like Jethro Tull at all would put Under Wraps at the top and Aqualung at the bottom, and what use is that to anyone? Also, the arcs of most artists’ careers follow predictable patterns, from a rapid evolution at the start, to an imperial phase in which they cannot do wrong, to variously, unpopular experimentation, stagnation and/or decline, with a late-career resurgence appearing in only some cases. It is worth showing new listeners which albums in a long catalog belong to which phase.

Conventional wisdom can be very wrong of course, especially in the here and now, and you always have to check your source’s biases, but he’s not wrong. Especially now that rock’s dead, or dead enough that turf battles over what’s proper rock or what instruments should be allowed in rock or whatever no longer matter. Best of lists used to be weapons wielded by publications like Rolling Stone and critics like Lester Bruce to determine a rock pantheon and judge who was worthy of entering it. Who, but for already aged baby boomers still cares about that? After decades of critical evaluation and re-evaluation most of the gems have been shifted out for any given long running rock band. You’re unlikely to discover anything new or upsetting in reconsidering the oeuvre of a band like Jethro Tull.

Not that Reinder doesn’t try and succeed in coming up with a list that has some conventional wisdom bucking surprises. The bottom of the list is as expected, the top not so much. The usual story about Tull is that it took a couple of albums to get the sound right, moving from fairly standard late sixties (prog) rock into something more unique slowly over the first three before bursting into perfection with Aqualung. That was followed up by the magnus opus that’s Thick as a Brick, with the rest of the seventies albums being attempts to keep up that high standard, not always succeeding. From there it’s the long slide into irrelevance that most big seventies bands faced moving into the eighties and the coasting on the past post-millennium of any that survived this long. Reinder’s list puts some nuances on this simplified story and makes the case for some less often considered albums and while I don’t necessarily agree, his arguments are at least interesting.

Now then, did you know that Tull had another album out this year? The first since 2003? I didn’t and I consider myself a fan. Turns out I’m more a fan of some of the albums, with the rest categorised as yep, that’s some more Jethro Tull indeed for better or worse. I couldn’t do this sort of exercise. For me the top two (Thick as a Brick, Aqualung) would be clear, I could properly make a top five, but the rest is just more Jethro Tull with no great feelings about them one way or another. I discovered Jethro Tull as a band thanks to an old boss at a chipshop I worked in as a student selling his collection of LPs which included Thick as a Brick (as well as Dark Side of the Moon), playing it out of curiosity knowning nothing about it other than that prog rock was just silly dinosaur music. I got the best of Jethro Tull as my introduction to it and that’s why everything else was just more of the same, but different.

Ultimately Reinder’s list does what such lists should do: send me back to listen to more Jethro Tull.

Growing up with anime in eighties Holland

Sometimes I get a little envious of American anime fandom, old enough and with access to anime early enough that in 1999 it could already twenty years retrospectives:

1979.

Twenty years ago.(Can it really be so long?)

Jimmy Carter was President. The Shah of Iran was deposed, and Americans were introduced to a new political force: Islamic Fundamentalism. The Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan, prompting us to boycott the 1980 Olympics. Margaret Thatcher was elected as Britain’s first female Prime Minister. The first computer spreadsheet software, VisiCalc, began the process of convincing America that personal computers were more than mere toys.

But none of that mattered to me. I was 12. What mattered to me was Star Blazers.

Granted, this article by Walter Amos was only published this year — this month even– by D. Merrill on his blog, but the point stands. It’s only a slight exagerration to say that anime fandom in the Netherlands barely existed even in 1999, let alone that you had whole generations of fans being able to look back on their own fannish journeys with this sort of nostalgia. There never was that kind of break out show in the Netherlands that Star Blazers, or slightly later, Robotech was in the US for that first generation of anime fans. That kind of show, adult, different and as importantly, widely available, the kind of show that could spark a fandom was never available in the Netherlands. That thrill of recognising anime as something different, something interesting had to wait until we got Manga Video imports from the UK, in the late eighties/early nineties. And the reason why is simple: because by and large, the sort of series like Star Blazers just wasn’t broadcast in the Netherlands.



The closest we got was Strijd der Planeten, a Dutch dub of the already bastardised American version of Gatchaman, Battle of the Planets. That was broadcast in the early eighties and I can’t remember anything about it, but I can remember playing it in kindergarten in ’81 or so. But that was the exception. And unlike Star Blazers, it was very much made kid friendly. That even so we re-enacted it on the playground, something I can’t remember doing for any other cartoon, means something of the original series did shine through. But that was it. I cannot remember any series that came close to the impact Star Blazers on seventies American kids being broadcast in the Netherlands. Nothing I can remember being that obviously different until I found Robotech in that one glorious summer in ’87 (?) we had proper cable before my parents chose to not use it but stick to public cable and just the boring old Dutch channels…

Which isn’t to say I didn’t watch anime back then. It’s just that the kind of anime that was available in the Netherlands was of an entirely different sort than that found in the childhoods of middle age American oldtakus. To explain why this is and what was available, we need to look at what television was like in the eighties in Holland. There was no commercial television until 1989; no more than two channels until 1988, which broadcast mostly only from the late afternoon until midnight. The main broadcasters were mass member organisations dedicated to a specific population group, dating from pillarised pre-war Dutch society where if you were e.g. Catholic you went to a Catholic school, voted Catholic, worked for a Catholic boss and of course listened to the Catholic radio. Though it was all much less strictly organised post-war and especially post-hippies, radio and tv broadcasting was largely in the hands of organisations who saw as their first mission education rather than entertainment, especially for children’s television. Which meant that the choice of cartoons and hence anime available was very much focused on the wholesome, child friendly and not so much on series like Star Blazers.

The blonde, smiling twin tailed big eyed protagonist of Candy Candy

Nevertheless, I still watched a lot of anime in the eighties, even if it may have taken decades to recognise it as anime. What we got were World Masterpiece Theater-esque series like Remi or Heidi, or even more kids orientated fare like Vrouwtje Theelepel or Maja de Bij, in either case often based on safe classic children’s books. Interestingly, we also got the classic shoujo romance Candy Candy, which in hindsight was my first experience with shoujo manga tropes not to mention that whole big eyed style. Sometime later there was also the Wizard of Oz adaptation, a staple of early weekday mornings’ breakfast viewing once dedicated kids programming was broadcast then. None of these series were bad of course. In fact, a lot of them were very good indeed, stone cold classics even. It’s just they didn’t hold the same level of excitement as even that butchered version of Gatchaman delivered.

Is it just Oda being stubborn or has the Shonen Jump culture poisoned his brain?

Over at Anime Feminist, Lilian King writes about One Piece and Oda Eiichiro’s backslide in writing good female characters.

Some… things… certainly changed. Long before I ever interacted with One Piece seriously—before I knew anything but the most basic details of the premise—I remember people joking about the huge change in the way female characters looked after the timeskip. This is egregiously sexist character design, enough that people with no vested interest in representing female characters well still took note when it happened. Oda took the timeskip as an opportunity to respond to female complaints and male desires: look, everyone, he said, look at my female characters now.

As Lillian King argues, early One Piece had its flaws in how it treated women, but still had female characters as important parts of the cast. As the series grew in popularity and especially after the timeskip in chapter 597, this changed and they mainly served as fan service rather than important characters in their own rights. King blames this on the stubbornness and vindictiveness of Oda, not being able to handle criticism of his characters and instead doubling down. But is this purely just another example of a famous author getting high on his own farts, or is there more to it? Because I can’t help but think that the criticism aimed at Oda and One Piece here apply just as strongly to a lot of other famous shounen battlers. I wonder if the editorial culture at Weekly Shounen Jump might not be just as much to blame as Oda’s own idiosyncrasies. Especially the references to “a boy’s fantasy” as an excuse for the sexism and stereotyping seem part and parcel of WSJ’s culture. This after all is a magazine that only a few years ago rejected the idea of female editors because they couldn’t understand “a boy’s heart”. I don’t claim to have an indepth knowledge of Shounen Jump, but it does feel to me that it has grown more conservative rather than less in the past three decades, less willing to try new ideas, more stuck to its formula and the sacred readers feedback system. A culture that in its hearts of hearts might just feel happier if only boys read the magazine.

Short but sweet — Anime 2022 #008/009

Mirage bieng Mirage trying to lure seacats

Macross Delta was the latest Macross to have been published, airing in 2016 and the first one I got to watch live. There wasn’t a legal release of course, due to the whole Harmony Gold claiming the rights to Macross outside of Japan. Anyway, in Japan it did get a bluray/DVD release and as an extra a series of five minute specials was included: Macross Δ: Delta Shougekijou. Nine episodes in total, with each episode having several short sketches in them, riffing on what was happening in the actual epoisodes on the disc. Most of it is barely animated and none of it is understandable if you haven’t watched the series. Just a little bonus for the fans, something that you see more on Japanese anime blurays. They were pretty funny, especially the recurring Mirage’s diary segments. Mirage being the pilote love interest rival to the idol love interest of the protagonist, a somewhat dense, earnest girl who got made fun of because of that in these bits.

Ai, Mai and Mii

Choboraunyopomi Gekijou Ai Mai Mii is also a short, five minute anime, but one that actually aired. An adaptation of a gag manga about Ai, Mai and Mii, three aspiring manga artists in a high school manga club, this is one of those series where the animators just went as zany as possible each week, with no real coherence between episodes. A bit like Teekyuu, but with less punning. A series that you can watch in half an hour and retain no knowledge of beyond it sure being zany. Somehow this still got at least two sequels.