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Whenever I listen to the full version of the opening to Brave of the Sun Fighbird, a particular lyric gets my attention. Not present in the TV version, the line says, “Kanashimi o kudake, taiyou no tsubasa,” or “Crush sadness, oh wings of the sun.” The way the singer Yasuko Kamoshita emphasizes each syllable of “kanashimi o kudake” sends a jolt of excitement through me.
I think the reason why I notice it so much is because it’s a super robot theme sung by a woman. However, it’s not just because it’s a female vocalist, but because I feel like given the exact same song with the exact same fiery lyrics, male singers and female singers for super robot anime produce different results. Music’s not my strong suit, but if I had to describe the difference, it’s that the male singers tend to sound more passionate while the female singers tend to sound more heartfelt. When Kamoshita tells Fighbird to “crush sadness,” you can hear a twinge of sadness in her voice too.
You might be thinking, “But wait a second, it might just be because this is a 90s anime and at that point anime songs were changing!” And you’d be right on both points, but I think that this feeling extends back towards previous decades as well. Let’s not forget that female singers for super robot anime have been around for quite a while. I get the same impression from Horie Mitsuko’s work on Super Electromagnetic Machine Voltes V and Space Demon Daikengo, as well as MIO/MIQ’s Aura Battler Dunbine and Heavy Metal L-Gaim openings, though those two are real robot shows so that genre shift factors in as well.
“Men and women sound different!” seems like such an obvious thing, but it really makes me aware of how the same song or piece of art can take on varying emotions once you change certain pieces.
For a fun comparison, let’s look at various openings throughout the decades featuring duets between Horie Mitsuko and anime song legend Mizuki Ichirou.
The Manga Moveable Feast makes a cultural shift this month, transforming into the Manhwa Moveable Feast in order to focus on the Color trilogy, a series by Kim Dong Hwa about a young girl in Korea on the cusp of womanhood and her subsequent growth.
Having only ever read the first of the three books, I decided not to participate this time around. Still, I know that this title is different from the general marketed image of “manhwa” in the United States, where it comes across as just a more illustrative variation of Japanese manga.
Manhwa simply doesn’t have the same level of exposure that manga does; even I have to admit I know little about it as a whole. Thus, my hope is that the Color series and this inter-blog discussion inspire people, including myself, to try and learn more about it.
You can start at the introductory post here, and then make your way through the archive of participatory posts. Of course, watch out for spoilers as some of these posts will contain some thorough analyses of the series.
Ever since I’d been approved for the mahjong panel at Otakon, I’ve been both consciously and unconsciously thinking about the game in terms of how beginners approach it. Here are some accumulated thoughts from this slight change in mindset.
As Sub and I work on our panel, we have to be aware that many people don’t have the first clue about mahjong, and that in order to get to the meaty psychologically thrilling parts of the game, we have to show what the game is actually like without going overboard. I trust the both of us to come up with something great, though. Sub especially is a natural at pleasing the crowd.
Sub and I also played some games both online and real life this past week with various levels of beginners, from people absolutely new to the game to people who’ve been playing for a bit but are still grappling with some of the fundamentals.
While neither of us are particularly good at mahjong, we too have made many of the same mistakes, and so we are more keenly aware of them. Generally these errors are the product of over-eagerness and desperation combined with not fully knowing the rules.
In mahjong, when someone discards a tile, there are situations where you can steal the tile and use it as your own, but in doing so confine yourself to fewer options and leave yourself more vulnerable to the attacks of others. One of the most prolific manifestations of this desperation is the over-reliance on stealing others’ tiles in order to move towards victory. Japanese mahjong values defense, and so every time you go on the offense you leave yourself more and more open. The newbie tendency is to just keep stealing tiles whenever you have the chance. Eventually, your options become so limited that you’re left near-impotent with possibly not even the strongest of luck being able to save you.
Naturally, Sub decided to exploit this and gain a commanding lead over an entire game. I came in second, unable to get a win in, but also able to avoid the traps Sub had set for the other players. In a later game, I did pretty much the same thing he did. It’s a good reminder of where we were and where we can go.
We also realized that the game is not quite as difficult to learn as we originally thought it to be. Yes, when you factor in all of the various small rules and exceptions and knick-knacks, the game can become ridiculously complex, especially because mahjong resembles so few other games. However, the very basics are fairly easy to learn and one or two games and a bit of observation is all it takes to get going.
Of course, there won’t be time for that at the panel as it is not a workshop, but our goal is more to convey a sense of mahjong and the excitement therein in order to bolster your enjoyment of mahjong anime and manga. In that sense, I truly believe we will succeed, and that every game of mahjong we play, not only with those less experienced but also those far superior to us, will be useful lessons towards this goal.
Name: Shirai, Sae (白井紗江)
Alias: Shiro-chan
Relationship Status: Single
Origin: Kodomo no Jikan
Information:
Shirai Sae is a teacher at Futatsubashi Elementary School, where she is known for her strict, authoritarian teaching style stemming from a severe dislike of children. Her cynicism is often at odds with male teacher Aoki Daisuke.
Optimistic in her youth, Shirai is left embittered by years of criticism from her mother and her peers, both as a child and as an adult. Though seemingly a lost cause, her time spent with female student Kagami Kuro slowly causes her to open up a little more as the two learn from each other.
Owing to her lack of social intraction, Shirai is still a virgin, having never dated anyone despite being in her late 20s. Having somewhat of a complex about the whole matter, Shirai tries her best to not reveal it, though at this point it is more of an open secret.
Fujoshi Level:
Shirai Sae is not a fan of anime or manga, but perhaps due to her lack of experience with men her mind does wander into the territory of fujoshi. Despite not getting along with Aoki, she has allowed herself to picture him with another man, though was quick to force the fantasy out of her imagination.
I am very grateful to live in New York City, as there is a sizable Japanese (as well as every other ethnicity) population here, and it means I can eat all sorts of good foods both inexpensive and pricey. One of my favorite quick snacks is onigiri, the seaweed-covered rice ball you often see in anime, and the thing that was translated as “donuts” and then “popcorn balls” in Pokemon.
When the seaweed touches the rice, it eventually gets soggy, so manufacturers some years back devised a way to keep the seaweed separate from the rice until you open it. By having a series of pullable tabs, you can enjoy crispy seaweed with little hassle.
Image taken from empty streets
Or at least, you should be able to, except places all over New York City decide to place a sticker right where you’re supposed to pull the first tab, and it gets in the way and defeats the purpose of the specialized wrapper in the first place. Instead, you have to now struggle with the sticker, and what was once a pain-free activity has now become an exercise in tearing the whole thing apart and making a bit of a mess.
Why do you do this, Japanese convenience stores and shops? Why is that sticker always in the worst place possible?
Marvel vs Capcom 3 successfully captures the look a fighting game about Ryu fighting Captain America targeted towards American audiences wants to have. It’s a grittier style when compared to the one used in Tatsunoko vs Capcom, which makes perfect sense. MvC3‘s aesthetic step in the right direction however reminded me of a similar attempt not so long ago, Mortal Kombat vs DC Universe.
Mortal Kombat vs DC Universe was an aesthetic failure. Just like MvC3, the game looked to bring together two sets of characters by uniting them under a more realistic visual style, but the end product was just a series of awkwardly stiff 3-d models and jerky animations.
What is going on with that torso?
Worse yet were the Fatalities, that classic trademark of the Mortal Kombat franchise, the violent killing blows which defined the series in the eyes of so many gamers. In MKvsDC, the Fatalities were not only toned down in brutality but also terribly uncreative regardless of the level of violence, especially when compared to the stylish Instant Kills of games like Blazblue.
My goal isn’t to just trash MKvsDC though, and of course I can’t really compare the gameplay to a game that isn’t actually out yet. I just wanted to point out that it’s amazing just how much two different projects came aim for the same basic goal and produce such different results. Marvel vs Capcom 3 is exactly what Mortal Kombat vs DC Universe wanted to be.
For comparison:
Two of the panels I applied for have been accepted for Otakon 2010. This is pretty exciting for me, as this will be my first-ever time at Otakon as a panelist! It’ll also probably be my last hurrah in the US before I go. If you’re gonna be in Baltimore for the con, I suggest you stop by. The schedule isn’t set yet, but I do have convenient panel descritions!
Note: Panel descriptions are subject to change, as I don’t quite remember which versions we ended up submitting.
Portrait of a Fujoshi: The Psychology of Ogiue Chika with Viga
“Throughout the series “Genshiken,” the character of Ogiue Chika goes on a journey of development, tackling topics such as self-image, childhood trauma, and the many perils of being an otaku-in-denial. Come if you want to really delve into the mind of Genshiken’s most psychologically complex character with a panel brought to you by the experts on angry fujoshi characters, Ogiue Maniax and Viga the Otagal!”
Riichi: Japanese Mahjong, Anime, and You with Sub
“If you’ve watched such popular anime as Akagi and Saki, you’ve been witness to the ancient game of mahjong– and you had no clue what the players were doing. Maybe you’ve even tried the game and found the complicated rules too intimidating. We did too! But we managed, and today we’re here to show you that it can be done. Let us enlighten you on the basics of Japanese style (riichi) mahjong, its appearances in anime and the entire genre of manga devoted to it, and how to play this fascinating game!”
Well that’s all there is for now. I’ll update with a new post when we have schedule information, as well as if the third panel is accepted.
See you in Baltimore!
When you learn Japanese, inevitably you have to hit the wall that is “kanji.” For an English speaker, having entire words comprised of one or two semi-complex symbols can be an unfamiliar and daunting prospect. On top of that, unlike Chinese, Japanese kanji have multiple pronunciations, depending on which words they’re being paired with or how they’re being used. English simply doesn’t do this.
But in time, as you familiarize yourself with kanji more and more, your mind starts to connect the words to the characters, and when you hear a new vocabulary word, your brain may start to try and figure out the kanji behind it. Kanji can hint at the meaning of a word, even if you’re not sure what it is. And even the vocabulary you’ve learned previously starts to look fresh and new, as you realize that they too have kanji behind them.
At this point, it’s time to play a fun new game: creating your own kanji compounds.
A kanji compound is any word consisting of multiple kanji. One that most people might know is 日本, or Japan, pronounced as “Nihon.” 読む, or “yomu,” to read, 書く, or “kaku,” to write, each have kanji in them. When you take the two kanji together, they become 読書, or “dokusho,” reading as a noun.
My favorite imaginary kanji compound is 光線欠, or “kousenketsu.” It means “lack of lasers.” Use it well in your daily Japanese studies. And then try it yourself! See what you come up with.
