Tezuka Osamu Research Articles

Reimagining Extinction in Australia and Japan: ‘Voices’ of the Tasmanian Tiger and Hokkaido Wolf

ABSTRACT This is a comparative, cross-cultural, and multi-disciplinary study of two extinct animals, the Tasmanian tiger in Australia and the Hokkaido wolf in Japan, and their ongoing cultural ‘presence’. The thylacine was last documented in captivity in 1936, and the Hokkaido wolf became extinct around 1900. Both faced rapid extinction due to anthropogenic factors associated with colonisation and modernisation, including eradication policies. Nonetheless, both animals have ongoing cultural and conservation significance. In Australia, the thylacine has become a symbol of redemption and conservation advocated for by devoted citizens who do not believe the animal is extinct. In Japan, the story of the Hokkaido wolf has been kept alive by Tezuka Osamu, a legendary manga/anime artist. Tezuka’s life project was to change anthropocentric human-nature relationships through his work. These two animals have significant ongoing implications for conservation and sustainability. The Tasmanian tiger offers a new approach to conservation through the pursuit of ‘Lazarus species’. The Hokkaido wolf provides an alternative ontology useful for rethinking human-nature relationships. Both point to the significant roles that different worldviews and emotional commitments can play for sustainable futures. They present new possibilities for reimagining extinction in the Anthropocene, showing that even extinct animals can give us hope.

Who Let the Dogs Out? Race as Illness in Tezuka Osamu's Ode to Kirihito

Abstract: This article examines the link between illness and racialized difference in the medical manga Kirihito sanka (1970–71; Ode to Kirihito , 2006) by Japan's "God of Manga," Tezuka Osamu (1928–89). Centering on a fictional disease that physically transforms its victims into human-canine hybrids, Kirihito sanka illustrates how easily ethno-racial stereotypes can inform discourses on disease, and how discrimination and racism are illnesses without national or cultural boundaries. As such, the manga is a sterling example of Tezuka's gekiga -inspired works of the 1970s that evolved to tell more literary and socially resonant stories reflecting the author's racial politics.

A Wide Range of Possible Expression from Tezuka's Manga to Gekiga , from Azuma Hideo to Doraemon

ABSTRACT: In his seminal work Manga wa naze omoshiroi no ka: sono hyōgen to bunpō ( Why Is Manga So Interesting?: Its Expression and Grammar , 1997), Natsume Fusanosuke (1950–) refined his ideas for his "theory of manga expression" ( manga hyōgenron ). In the present translation, which consists of chapters 3 and 4 from that work, the author describes changes that took place in the expression of faces and bodies from the time of Tezuka Osamu ( Astro Boy ) through the gekiga revolution in the 1960s and 1970s up into the 1980s and 1990s. Looking at creative character designs by a diverse range of artists, including Saitō Takao, Azuma Hideo, and Fujiko F. Fujio ( Doraemon ), Natsume argues that changes over time indicate the development of the industry's studio system as well as vacillations in Japanese society and readership up into the 1990s. To do so, Natsume demonstrates his unique method of manga analysis by "copying" and playing with those pictures to further drive home his point.

Pig Gourd: the meaning of Tezuka’s playing around with form

ABSTRACT Taking an arguably minor character from Tezuka Osamu’s oeuvre, Natsume Fusanosuke argues how the Pig Gourd’s cameos even in the artist’s most serious works demonstrate a bifurcated sense of play and high-brow artistry in his manga. Natsume employs an early version of his ‘manga-expression theory’ (manga hyōgen-ron) manga-analysis approach, which he began to develop in this, his first manga-studies monograph and seminal study of the ‘god of manga’ Tezuka Osamu. This translation of a chapter essay from Where Is Tezuka Osamu? (1992) demonstrates Natsume’s versatility in isolating thematic patterns or formal experimentations in an artist’s style, including character design and page layouts. Natsume’s ‘manga-expression theory’ approach, which focuses on three basic elements of manga (words, pictures, and frames), can be seen in this essay on Tezuka’s trademark Pig Gourd character, who will pop up or even decimate panel borders to show not only Tezuka’s embarrassment at being unable to resist a sight gag but also his bold desire to play with panel possibilities. The larger picture that Natsume describes here is how this ubiquitous cameo character became a litmus test of readers’ tastes as the manga master’s target demographic became older and wise to his stylistic idiosyncrasies.

1001 Nights and Anime: The Adaptation of Transnational Folklore in Tezuka Osamu’s Senya ichiya monogatari/A Thousand and One Nights (1969)

Anthologising folktales from across the Middle East and North Africa, the inherently transnational 1001 Nights has become one of the most adapted works in the history of folklore (Zipes et al. 2015). The tales have been adapted globally into works ranging from literature to theatre, from radio to film and animation. The animated versions of the tales in particular, refer to some of the earliest feature films in animation history and have been the subject of debate concerning their representational strategies (Sterritt 2020; Belamghari 2015). The treatment of the tales by Japanese media producers affords us a way to decentre the significance of these earlier and more lauded Euro-American adaptations and to consider how these transnational tales flowed to, and were appropriated and reinterpreted within, other parts of the world. First translated into Japanese in 1875, the 1001 Nights quickly went on to gain a foothold within Japanese literature, and more recently it has become the basis for numerous manga and anime adaptations (Nishio and Yamanaka, 2006). This article investigates how one animated Japanese adaptation by famed manga artist Osamu Tezuka, Senya Ichiya Monogatari (dir. Eiichi Yamamoto, 1969), expands the transnational status of the original through its appropriation into anime’s aesthetic and cultural repertoires. In exploring how the 1001 Nights have become and remain integral to a transnational repertoire of animated storytelling, we examine the elasticity and transnationality of 1001 Nights and the implications of its cultural localisation in Japan. We argue that the original’s structural and thematic emphasis on journeys, quests and flows provides the Japanese filmmakers with subject matter designed to flow, making the tales an attractive adaptation source for Japanese filmmakers who were themselves seeking greater transnational reach for their animated films. Within this set of flows, a reciprocal transnationality can be found in the 1001 Nights and its adaptation into anime, offering a mechanism for rethinking the relationships among Middle-Eastern, North African and Japanese forms of storytelling.

ЛИТЕРАТУРНАЯ КЛАССИКА В ЯПОНСКОЙ МАНГЕ: КОМИКСЫ ТЭДЗУКА ОСАМУ

Tezuka Osamu is one of the first manga artist, who started to transform works of classical literature into the language of Japanese comics. Among his works we can distinguish the comic adaptation of Goethe’s “Faust” (1950) and “Crime and punishment” (“Tsumi to batsu”, 1953) by Dostoevsky. These works, according to the assurances of Tezuka Osamu, were created by him in order to introduce the younger generation to the masterpieces of world literature. But, in fact, they are rather a courageous experiment by the author, which is based on Tezuka Osamu’s personal experience with the works of American and Soviet animation and cinema (“Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs”, “The Humpbacked Horse”, “Moth and the Flame”, “The Third Man”, etc.). Being a big fan of cinema since childhood, Tezuka Osamu unwittingly transferred a set of different cinematic techniques to the art of comics, thereby expanding its capabilities. In this article we will consider in detail the mechanism of adaptation of literary texts in Tezuka Osamu’s manga, starting with the indication of direct quotations from movie and animation of that time and ending with a variety of effects (Kuleshov effect) and principles of the film industry (“Star System”).

THE JAPANESE TROJAN WAR: TEZUKA OSAMU'S ENVISIONING OF THE TROJAN CYCLE

The Trojan cycle has been retold and re-envisioned many times from antiquity to modern times. The themes covered by these myths, especially the Homeric poems, have captivated the minds and hearts of poets, historians, authors, and others. Homer's Iliad extoled the grandeur as well as exposed the ugliness and folly of war. These humanistic virtues resonated with various cultures around the world. In this article we examine the reception of the Trojan cycle, especially the Iliad, on the noted manga artist Tezuka Osamu (1928–89). Recent reception theories focus on the creation of a new composition or artefact as part of the reception process; we shall thus discuss the Phoenix: Early Works manga as an example of such reception.

<em>Otoko no ko</em> Manga and New Wave Crossdressing in the 2000s: A Two-Dimensional to Three-Dimensional Male Subculture

Otoko no ko Manga and New Wave Crossdressing in the 2000sA Two-Dimensional to Three-Dimensional Male Subculture Sharon Kinsella (bio) In twenty-first century Japan, male cross-dressing (josō) has become a popular element of culture at multiple levels, from the most convivial and grassroots amateur and fan participation to mass media entertainment. The cute and moé animation style and diverse range of media involvement in new wave josō distinguish it from earlier and less mediated currents of gay, nyū hāfu (transgender), and cross-dress culture1 and community.2 Playful josō and male gender transformation in millennial Japan echo the growing presence of transgender and between gender modes throughout international culture in the 2000s, but are simultaneously rooted in the local cultural landscape and semiotic system. Contemporary josō in Japan is impacted by the long history of cultic interest in girls (shōjo) and the associated aesthetic of gamine cuteness (kawairashisa), as well as the grassroots redigestions of these themes in male animation subculture (otaku-ism), which has had a significant influence on the new generation of cute and girlish josō. As it is currently a key term in contemporary Japanese culture, josō will largely be used in the original Japanese in this article. When translated it will be translated as "cross-dress," since "female-dress," which is the more exact translation, does not exist in English and "cross-dress" is the closer term in style of usage. Josō male characters emerged in manga, animation, and computer games at the turn of the century into the early 2000s as they became popular in minor genres and leading boy's manga magazines. The "net slang" term otoko no ko ("boy daughter") was first used among eroge (dating simulation) computer game players and covert male fans of shōjo manga,3 then became widely used to identify the new wave of cross-dress culture. Otoko no ko (男の 娘) is a witty term in which the Chinese character for child in the homophonous term "boy" (otoko no ko 男の子) is replaced with "daughter" to create the effect in meaning of a "boy daughter." Around 2010, cute male otoko no ko characters, often identical to bishōjo (beautiful girl) characters, [End Page 40] moved beyond the page and screen through the vector of 2.5-dimensional cosplay. Otoko no ko cross-dressing began to emerge not as street style but as a cosplay, bedroom, and upload fashion. Niche josō websites that allowed participants to upload images or videos of themselves during make-up and transformation, or demonstrated how to apply josō make-up and fashion, contributed to an online otoko no ko boom. Simultaneously, on college campuses a wave of cross-dressed josō bands and josō parody and beauty contests emerged, illustrating the expansion of the theme from niche or otaku subtrends, to more widespread social and grassroots participation. Interested readers are encouraged to look out for a longer article, film, and forthcoming book that explore this complicated and layered phenomenon in the context of twenty-first-century human conditions. This brief pilot article centers on the emergence of otoko no ko characters in manga and their entrance from the shadow-sphere of the animation/manga/computer games media mix into three-dimensional social life. This article presents preliminary observations and thoughts largely of related cultural material rather than actual ethnography and as such it does not offer extensive and conclusive theorization of the motivations of otoko no ko subculture. Readers are advised to find a forthcoming book and later articles to be rooted in ethnographic fieldwork to be carried out in 2020 for more developed evidence and theorization. The Birth of Otoko no ko in Two-Dimensional Josō Youth Characters It is widely noted that gender charade, ambivalence, and revelation have been recurrent elements of the design of gender in manga characters across the postwar period. Manga critic Nagayama Kaoru suggests that two key genre roots of the "boy disguised as girl" narratives of contemporary otoko no ko manga are, firstly, the many "polymorphously perverse" asexual and "hermaphrodite" hero/ines created by Tezuka Osamu in the later 1940s and 1950s, which became the staple reading matter of children hungry for stories...

Conjoined by Hand: Aesthetic Materiality in Kouno Fumiyo's Manga <em>In This Corner of the World</em>

Conjoined by HandAesthetic Materiality in Kouno Fumiyo’s Manga In This Corner of the World Jaqueline Berndt (bio) In recent years, content-driven, or representational, readings of anime and manga have been increasingly countered by mediatic approaches, but the main focus has been mainly on the materiality of platforms and institutions rather than that of signifiers and artifacts that afford certain mediations in the first place. Kouno Fumiyo’s In This Corner of the World (Kono sekai no katasumi ni) provides an excellent case to explore manga’s aesthetic materiality, last but not least because of its congenial adaptation to the animated movie of the same name directed by Katabuchi Sunao (Studio MAPPA, 2016).1 This movie attests to what John Guillory has pointed out in a different context, namely, that “[r]emediation makes the medium as such visible.”2 Consequently, it is used below as a foil to highlight how Kouno’s manga conjoins different materialities in a medium-specific way resting on the drawn line, print on paper, and the serial format of the narrative. This article pursues manga mediality from the angle of materiality to approach forms as aesthetic affordances without reiterating a decontextualized formalism modeled on modernist notions of authorship and autonomous art. First, I will try to summarize the story as unimpaired as possible by considerations of medium specificity in order to demonstrate subsequently what attention to aesthetic materiality may lead the reader to see or rather to become: namely, a mature participant. Second, I focus on the precedence of hand-drawing as well as the variety of drawn lines, pointing out that in Kouno’s case aesthetic materiality does not facilitate authorship (evinced by traces of the artist’s hand) or the manga medium as an art form (evinced by modernist self-reflexivity as an attribute of the text itself), but commonality, a distributive agency that involves artist, characters, and readers bridging past and present. Then, I turn to what is more often associated with materiality, namely, the physicality of the publication medium. Instead of paper quality (i.e., the coarse and yellowish printing paper of Japanese editions so difficult to reproduce abroad), I foreground linework, lettering, and paneling as well [End Page 83] as the physical placement of the individual installments within the magazine. I interpret these aspects as nonverbal statements about genre conventions and also correlate them with the theme of marginality touched upon already in the work’s title. As a whole, I hope to demonstrate that the focus on manga materiality in the broad sense (that is, including a non-representationalist attention to forms of representation, mediation, distribution, and perception) allows for critical readings of popular fiction that acknowledge its inclusive potential. In the course of the discussion, I refer time and again to aspects that distinguish In This Corner of the World from conventional manga as represented by the global bestsellers. Characteristic of Kouno’s work is a conjoining of not only actors and times but also dispositions: it keeps with mangaesque conventions and twists them concurrently, occupying a third space between major franchise-prone productions and highly authorial expressions. While such a disposition applies to a significant number of Japanese graphic narratives—stretching from Tezuka Osamu and Ikeda Riyoko to Taniguchi Jirô, Asano Inio, and Kyô Machiko—it still easily escapes European or North American comics studies insofar as they are inclined to neatly sort between “graphic novels” as serious personal and political narratives on the one hand, and “comics and manga” as industrial, coded, and serial B-literature on the other hand.3 Against this backdrop it raises wrong expectations to call manga like Kouno’s “alternative,” even if they appear slightly deviant within the mediascape that is locally and globally associated with Japan. A Hand’s Tale Kouno’s graphic narrative was serialized in the biweekly magazine Manga Action from January 2007 to January 2009. Whereas the Japanese book edition falls into three volumes, the translated English edition crams the whole 430 pages into one unwieldy volume to accommodate a type of consumption that rests less on serialization than in Japan.4 In line with the structure of the original magazine series, the book edition...

No land’s man: on remaking the last western in Japan and the politics of revision

ABSTRACTThis paper examines the evolution of Hokkaido as a frontier space in the Japanese western, looking in particular at Yurusarezaru mono (Lee Sang-il, 2013). Drawing closely on Clint Eastwood’s Unforgiven (1992), the work has been recognized as a faithful remake of Eastwood’s iconic last western. At the same time, Lee reframes the western to focus on displacement and calls attention in particular to the repression of political and ethnic ‘others’ in the acquisition of Hokkaido in the 1860s. This rewriting of the western is inspired in part by manga artist Tezuka Osamu’s Shumari, a work set at the same early Meiji moment which explores the Imperial origins of the frontier in Hokkaido. Lee’s reinterpretation of Hokkaido as colonial space raises questions about established perceptions of nationhood, identity, and imperial origins.

초기 순정만화와 소녀만화의 스토리 형식에 대한 비교연구

한국의 순정만화와 일본의 소녀만화는 독특한 특징을 가지고 있으며 서로 밀접한 연관성을 가지고 있다는 것은 여러 선행연구에서 강조되어 왔다. 본 연구는 순정만화와 소녀만화의 스토리 형식에 대한 연구이다. 순정만화는 1950~1960년대의 작품을, 소녀만화의 경우 잡지 "소녀 클럽"에 연재된 작품으로 그 연구 대상을 한정했다. "소녀 클럽"의 경우 창간호부터 폐간될 때까지 휴간 없이 발행된 거의 유일한 소녀잡지이며 일본 최초의 장편 소녀만화인 테즈카 오사무의 '리본의 기사'가 연재된 잡지이기도 하기 때문이다. 연구 결과 순정만화와 소녀만화는 시공간적 배경, 이야기의 장르, 이야기의 길이 등에서 뚜렷한 차이점을 찾을 수 있었다. 그리고 이러한 차이점은 당시의 사회적 배경과 만화의 역사, 작가들, 연재 매체의 특징에서 기인함을 알 수 있었다. Korean Shunjung Manhwa and Shojo Manga have a unique characteristics. These genres have a close relationship each other. This study is story form of Shunjung Manhwa and Shojo Manga. In this article, a subject of study for Shunjung Manhwa is the works between 1950s and 1960s. I set limits to the works from "Shojo Club" the case of Shojo Manga. "Shojo Club" is the only girl's magazine without suspend publication. Furthermore, that magazine is the one that Japan's first Shojo Manga, Tezuka Osamu's 'Princess Knight' was published serially. The results of my research work is that Shunjung Manwha has a remarkable difference on a spatio-temporal background, a genre of story, a length of story as compared with Shojo Manga. In addition, this difference is based on the social background, history of comics, authors, media published serially at that time.

Editors’ Introduction: Onmyodo in Japanese History

(ProQuest: Foreign text omitted.)Onmyodo ..., the so-called Way of yin-yang, is a relatively new field of study when compared to the more familiar Buddhism, Shinto, or even Shugendo, and academic articles or monographs on this sub- ject are hitherto quite scarce. The publication of Murayama Sh?ichi's Nihon Onmy?d?shi s?setsu in 1981, in which he attempted to draw a global picture of the history of Onmy?d?, sparked interest in pursuing research in this area. Ten years later, Onmy?d? scholarship acquired a solid ground for further develop- ment with the publication of Onmy?d? s?sho (1991--1993), a four-volume collec- tion edited by Murayama and others that gathered most of the articles already published on this topic at that time. Prior to this, if a student wished to write a graduation thesis dealing with Onmy?d?, most Japanese advisors would have disapproved due to a lack of previous scholarship or documentation. However, since the publication of Onmy?d? s?sho, it has become possible to write a thesis, or even a PhD dissertation, on Onmy?d?. The guest editors of this issue of the JJRS, having themselves obtained PhDs dealing with early modern Onmy?d? and divination respectively, are very grateful for this collection of articles.Readers should keep in mind that has not only gathered momen- tum as a field of study by scholars East and West, but it has also become in novels, manga, and films. Aramata Hiroshi's Teito monogatari novels (1985-- 1987), or Yumemakura Baku's Onmy?ji series (1988--ongoing) are bestsellers in their genre. Okano Reiko's manga, Onmy?ji (1993--2005), loosely based on Yumemakura's novels, received the Tezuka Osamu manga prize, and has built a strong following among young readers. All these works were developed into mov- ies, and even television dramas featuring an onmy?ji as their main protagonist were produced around the end of the 1990s. The social significance of this Onmyodo boom from the 1980s to the beginning of the twenty-first century has yet to be researched by sociologists, and we can only hope that such a survey will eventu- ally appear. Meanwhile, we cannot help but notice that Aramata lists Murayama's Nihon Onmyodoshi s?setsu as a reference, and that Okano was taking advice from Yamashita Katsuaki, a scholar whose authority on ancient can hardly be disputed. Thus, it seems that the academic and trends are not totally unre- lated, and might even be a deeply-intertwined social phenomenon.Scholars should be delighted to see that words such as or onmy?ji, thanks to manga and films, have become widely known among the general pub- lic. However, the very word is not, by far, free from all ambiguity. Its reading, for instance, is still subject to debate. Should it be read on'y?d? or or even in'y?d?? We can exclude the latter because when appeared in Japan, Chinese characters were read in their go-on pronunciation. It seems that the original reading was indeed on'y?d?, which later evolved to become Onmyodo. Although some scholars argue we should revert to the origi- nal reading, the editors have decided, for the sake of convenience and clarity, to stick to the better-known reading.There is no real consensus among scholars about the nature of Onmyodo: does it pertain to the category of religion, or should it be considered as belong- ing to the traditional arts? Specialists of ancient and mostly advocate the latter classification. Some scholars stress the transition of in the Heian period from a technique to a religion, whereas others insist that the technical aspect of never disappeared and continued without any transformation. On the other hand, scholars working on early modern Japan use the label onmy?ji to refer to folk-religious (minkan sh?ky?sha ?????), and therefore tend to consider as pertaining to the field of religion. The ubiq- uitous nature of through the ages thus requires that scholars give careful attention to their terminology, and often prompts the need to resort to era-specific definitions, like court Onmyodo, medieval Onmyodo, or popular Onmyodo. …

Osamu Moet Moso: Imagining Lines of Eroticism in Akihabara

Osamu Moet Moso:Imagining Lines of Eroticism in Akihabara Patrick W. Galbraith (bio) September 18, 2010: the Tokyo Anime Center in Akihabara is hosting a preevent for a new exhibition on Tezuka Osamu. I walk in expecting to see a tribute to the father of modern manga and anime, a man deified as a "god," but find instead Osamu Moet Moso (Osamu moetto mosso). The exhibition claims as its mission "to extract and embody Akiba-like elements contained in Tezuka Osamu's works."1 This seems to mean extracting "moe elements," or those elements that trigger an affective response in fans, from Tezuka's characters and aligning them with popular manga, anime, and games in Akihabara, a hotspot of otaku consumption and culture.2 Among those contributing illustrations to the exhibition are Itō Noizi, Kei and Yoshizaki Mine, known for their bishōjo (cute girl) characters.3 In line with contemporary and local tastes-and despite the involvement of Tezuka Productions, a company entrusted with preserving the creator's legacy-many of the characters on display look more erotic than wholesome. I stop in front of a rendition of Astro Boy, noting that his red boots have been elongated to look almost like "knee socks." This is unmistakably the work of Pop, whose focus on the thighs has been a trademark since his debut with Moetan (2003). Even a cursory examination [End Page 279] Click for larger view View full resolution Figure 1. Tezuka Osamu's Astro Boy character illustrated by POP, famous for his work on Moetan. [End Page 280] of signage in Akihabara demonstrates wide support for Pop, but his sexualized girl characters have also drawn criticism from mainstream and global audiences. Nonetheless, one of his illustrations has made its way into the Tokyo Anime Center, a tourism hub and showcase for Japanese popular culture, in the form of Tezuka Osamu's most beloved character. A global icon has been redrawn in the style popular in Akihabara. But Osamu Moet Moso did not stop there. After the pre-event, it traveled to Marui One in Shinjuku, Printemps in Ginza, the Osamu Tezuka Manga Museum in Takarazuka and so on (Figure 2). The more it traveled, the more attention it gathered, connecting unlikely sites and audiences. Printings of Pop's Astro Boy were sold at both high art galleries and Comiket. Even as elements of Akihabara moved across Japan along Click for larger view View full resolution Figure 2. Pamphlet for Osamu Moet Moso exhibition at the Osamu Tezuka Manga Museum in Takarazuka in 2011. Used by permission of Tezuka Productions Co., Ltd. All rights reserved. [End Page 281] with the exhibition, Tezuka was connected ever more intimately to Akihabara as otaku saw elements of their favorite characters in his work. This exposure to an Astro Boy made strange disrupted assumptions about Tezuka and opened up new possibilities. In Osamu Moet Moso and Akihabara, one could comment that "Astro Boy is practically the original moe!"4 Akihabara is not the source of any specific mode of representation. Rather, in the 1970s and 1980s, otaku actively appropriated from mainstream manga and anime and formulated a style in fan works, niche magazines, and related markets. As these elements converge in Akihabara, it has become a frame for retrospectively recognizing stylistic antecedents in Tezuka. In this article, drawing on personal and published interviews, I reconstruct the discourse integrating Tezuka into the history of the "cute erotic" (kawaii ero) aesthetic in Japan. Philip Brophy states that the "hyper-kawaii face" of Japanese manga appears equally in "saccharine kiddie stories and extreme pornographic scenarios," but we must remember that this was not always the case. Contemporary historicizing of cute eroticism begins with people like Tezuka telling mature stories using manga forms (as opposed to gekiga), moves through the mainstreaming of shōjo manga in the 1970s, and ends with the rise of fans and artists responding to and appropriating Tezuka and shōjo manga characters.5 Due to issues of space, and the theme of this issue of Mechademia, I will for the most part focus on Tezuka in this article and leave the discussion of shōjo manga for a later date. Rather...

Tezuka, Shōjo Manga, and Hagio Moto

Tezuka, Shōjo Manga, and Hagio Moto Hori Hikari (bio) I am completely certain that my Princess Knight, which was serialized in [the magazine] Shōjo kurabu (Girl's club), was the first shōjo manga in Japan. Until then girls' comics had merely presented stories of daily life filled with comedy and humor, as in Anmitsu-hime (Princess Anmitsu). —Osamu, "Afterword" to Ribon no kishi, 1979 The commonly held notion that Tezuka Osamu is the creator of shōjo manga is repeated, even today, in various Tezuka-related publications.1 Further reinforcement is provided by Tezuka's own statement, quoted above, which may be the origin of this belief.2 A pioneering article on shōjo manga by Fujimoto Yukari (b. 1959) has done even more to cement the tie between Tezuka and the history of the genre, in particular by situating him as the founder of the motif of sexual deviance, which Fujimoto characterizes as one of the defining themes of shōjo manga: It should be emphasized that the history of shōjo manga began with hermaphroditism. Of course, Tezuka Osamu's work Princess Knight [End Page 299] [1953-56, Ribon no kishi] is so well known as to need no mention. It was serialized from 1953 in Shōjo kurabu (Girls' club) as the first "story manga" in the history of Japanese shōjo manga . . . Since then, shōjo manga have charted this strange evolution in which experiments that transgress sex-identity or gender roles are continually repeated in the "genderless worlds" of girls' inner lives.3 Fujimoto argues that the character Sapphire's shifting between female and male roles in Princess Knight—that is, the theme of the protagonist's "changing gender identities" (seibetsu ekkyō)—became the prototype for transgressive presentations of gender and sexuality in shōjo manga. Fujimoto's work was pioneering in that it provided a comprehensive analysis of shōjo manga from perspectives informed by gender and sexuality studies. However, her claims should be reexamined and further complicated. In particular, I would argue that the worlds of the works of the "Forty-Niners" ("Nijūyonen-gumi "), emphasized by Fujimoto as representative of shōjo manga, provide far more ambiguous, subversive, and provocative representations of gender and sexuality than those found in Tezuka's work. Although my analysis and argument will be limited in this short paper, I attempt to address how the representations of gender and sexuality separate Tezuka's works from those of the Forty-Niners, especially Hagio Moto (b. 1949). I will first discuss the representation of gender roles in Princess Knight in relation to the Takarazuka Revue. Then, I will provide a textual analysis of The Heart of Thomas (1975, Tōma no shinzō) by Hagio Moto in comparison with Tezuka's Shinsengumi (1963).4 The discussion of Hagio in this connection is crucial, because in interviews she has repeatedly stressed that it was her encounter with Tezuka's Shinsengumi that made her decide to become a manga artist. She even names it as a manga she has reread many times.5 This analysis of the commonality and differences between the two artists' works will serve as a case study that illuminates their different approaches in representing gender and the body. Princess Knight: Tezuka and the Takarazuka Revue The Takarazuka Revue, founded in 1913 by Kobayashi Ichizō (1873-1957), has long been popular for its many Western-style musicals. All the actors are female, and although the producers and directors are predominantly male, [End Page 300] their productions are generally understood to be entertainment aimed at women and children. It is noteworthy that Tezuka's connection with the Takarazuka Revue is often mobilized to support claims that, despite being an adult male, he understood the world of women and children and their sensibilities. Tezuka himself stated: I grew up in Takarazuka, home of Japan's famous all-female musical theater troupe, so naturally in my youth I imbibed the romantic and flamboyant atmosphere of this world. My characters' costumes as well as the scenery that surrounds them owe much to the theater. More importantly, the spirit of nostalgia toward Takarazuka pervades and infuses my work.6 Because the...

Phoenix 2772: A 1980 Turning Point for Tezuka and Anime

Phoenix 2772:A 1980 Turning Point for Tezuka and Anime Renato Rivera Rusca (bio) Phoenix 2772: Love's Cosmozone (Hi no tori 2772: Ai no kosumozōn) is a 1980 animated feature film written by Tezuka Osamu (based on his manga Hi no tori [Phoenix]), directed by Sugiyama Taku, with Ishiguro Noboru acting as animation director.1 The methods employed for special effects in the movie include scan camera shots, CGI, live-action filming, "2-frame photography," 3D manipulation, rotoscoping, and more. The movie's contents, its ambitious production, and the context surrounding it paints an intriguing image of Tezuka Osamu at a seemingly desperate stage of his creative life. Background History and Contextualization of the Work In order to explain the significance of Phoenix 2772 in terms of Tezuka's vast oeuvre of animated material, one first needs some background about the production methods of Japanese animation. In the 1950s and '60s, Tōei Dōga (now known as Toei Animation) produced a series of feature-length animations in the style of Disney movies of the time. Some were based on Chinese [End Page 109] folklore, such as The White Snake (1958, Hakujaden); others on traditional Western children's fables, such as Puss in Boots (1969, Nagagutsu wo haita neko). The techniques used to breathe life into pictures consisted of laborious animation sequences with drawings numbering in the tens of thousands, as every subtle movement had to be drawn, painted, and photographed. In 1963, however, Tezuka Osamu, in his attempt to translate his manga Tetsuwan Atomu to television screens, felt that this method was overly labor intensive, so he proceeded to streamline the process to more efficiently meet the weekly schedule broadcasters demanded.2 One way he cut costs was by simplifying the photographing of character dialogue scenes by swapping out one cel layer that depicted an open mouth with one depicting a closed one, without much concern for accurate lip-synching. Similarly, many sequences were often reused in different contexts to maximize the usage of each shot. Each of these techniques, combined with the steep reduction of the frame rate, proved successful for animated TV productions. For instance, reduced animation using the 3-koma-dori method would mean that one cel was photographed identically three times, taking up three frames of film before the next cel layer or cel repositioning was implemented, thus reducing the rate by a third of "full" animation. TV audiences were willing to overlook reduced visual quality (as compared to theatrical works) in exchange for the chance to follow evolving character-based stories on a regular schedule. By the late 1970s, however, the first generation brought up on television anime began coming of age and animated works that targeted these adults as well as their children increasingly appeared. Such TV series included Space Cruiser Yamato (1974, Uchū senkan Yamato), which was reedited into a movie in 1977 and subsequently gave rise to the first "anime boom."3 Although it was not the first theatrical version of a TV animation, it was revolutionary in that it was composed mostly of footage produced originally for TV that had been reedited for the big screen (as opposed to being a completely new animated production such as the larger-scaled TV episode Mazinger Z versus Devilman[1973, Majingaa Zetto tai Debiruman]). Many movies based on this "TV series reedit" method followed, and in fact they continue to this day—to the extent that the "compilation movie" is now almost a staple of the industry. From this period on, there was a sudden surge in theatrical animation based on popular TV series (many of which were inspired by manga series), including Candy Candy (1978, Kyandii kyandii), Lupin III (Rupan III, 1978), Science Ninja Team Gatchaman (1978, Kagaku ninjatai Gatchaman), Galaxy Express 999 (1979, Ginga tetsudō 999), Heidi, Girl of the Alps (1979, Arupusu no shōjo Haiji), and Future Boy Conan (1979, Mirai shōnen Conan). Although movies [End Page 110] obviously commanded much larger budgets, the visual grammar of television was successfully translated onto the big screen through these productions. These theatrical features were noticeably different in scale and complexity from TV animation and also differed visually from...

Tezuka Osamu's Circle of Life: Vitalism, Evolution, and Buddhism

Tezuka Osamu's Circle of Life: Vitalism, Evolution, and Buddhism

The Metamorphic and Microscopic in Tezuka Osamu's Graphic Novels

The Metamorphic and Microscopic in Tezuka Osamu's Graphic Novels

The Metamorphic and Microscopic in Tezuka Osamu's Graphic Novels

The Metamorphic and Microscopic in Tezuka Osamu's Graphic Novels

On the Fabulation of a Form of Life in the Drawn Line and Systems of Thought

Provides new perspectives on the renowned anime and manga creator, Tezuka Osamu, and examines his legacy. Contributors to volume eight of Mechademia analyze Tezuka Osamu and his complicated approaches toward life and nonlife, as well as his effect on other manga artists. Using essays and reprints of Japanese manga on Tezuka, this volume questions his influence and attitudes toward the nonhuman, the sexual politics of manga bodies, and the origins of the moe culture, among others.

Manga Shōnen: Katō Ken'ichi and the Manga Boys

Manga Shōnen:Katō Ken'ichi and the Manga Boys Ryan Holmberg (bio) Manga Shōnen . . . what sweet-sounding words. Let's say it again. Manga Shōnen. I feel my chest tighten, such nostalgia arises. Manga Shōnen was my youth's first love . . . My first love, where have you gone? —Tatsumi Yoshihiro, "Manga Shōnen wo aisu" (I miss Manga Shōnen) So pined Tatsumi Yoshihiro in 1981, twenty-six years after the legendary magazine had folded, on the occasion of the first serious retrospective of its legacy: Terada Hiroo's A History of "Manga Shōnen."1 It was where he and his elder brother Sakurai Shōichi had competed against one another to get published in the monthly reader-submissions contest, Sakurai winning first in March 1949, then Tatsumi in July, then pooling their resources and appearing side by side in 1950 as leaders of the Children's Manga Association (Kodomo Manga Kenkyūkai), their own amateur comics club, purportedly postwar Japan's first.2 Sakurai wrote, also in 1981, on the same occasion, "How we got to know, willy-nilly, the ABC's of making manga was through Gakudōsha's 1948-founded Manga Shōnen. The great children's manga artists from both the prewar and [End Page 173] the postwar congregated there, testing their skills one against another. It was a dazzling spectacle, but at the same time it was the source of information on the world of manga, the textbook, the gateway."3 Among the prewar guard of Manga Shōnen were Shimada Keizō, author Adventurous Dankichi (1933-39, Bōken Dankichi), Tagawa Suihō, author of Norakuro (1931-41), and Haga Masao, the preeminent author of animal comics and picture books during the late 1930s and wartime '40s. On the postwar side was, above anyone else, Tezuka Osamu. It was in Manga Shōnen that his first large-scale magazine serial was published, Jungle Emperor (1950-54, Janguru taitei), about the white lion prince who learns the language and ways of the humans, and then returns to Africa to lead the animal kingdom. It was there that the first chapters of Phoenix (1954-55, Hi no tori) appeared. It was also home to his Manga Classroom (1952-54, Manga kyōshitsu), a how-to tutorial more inspirational than practical, designed to lend authority and not a little star glamour to the magazine's reader submissions pages. "When I hear the name Manga Shōnen," recalled Ishinomori Shōtarō, the Guinness-recognized world's most prolific cartoonist, "I immediately think of the color red. That's red as in postbox red. How many times did I stick a letter or a postcard in praying for it to be accepted? The very first hurdle I had to cross was that mouth of the postbox."4 The idea of reader submissions was not original, existing in newspapers and magazines since before the war, but Manga Shōnen carried it out on an unprecedented scale. Out of that crucible emerged not just Ishinomori and Tatsumi but many of the top sellers and innovators of postwar manga, including Abiko Motō and Fujimoto Hiroshi of the Fujiko Fujio duo and the king of gag manga Akatsuka Fujio. Submitting there were also boys who ended up famous in other fields, including graphic designers Yokoo Tadanori and Tanaami Keiichi, painter Tateishi Tiger, photographer Shinoyama Kishin, and novelists Komatsu Sakyō and Tsutsui Yasutaka. It was the place where aspiring creators from across Japan first saw their names in print, spurring many of them to better their skills to compete against their peers. Manga Shōnen also inspired a few amateur comics clubs. In addition to Tatsumi and Sakurai's in Osaka, there was also Ishinomori's East Japan Manga Research Association (Higashi Nihon Manga Kenkyūkai) in Miyagi. Like [End Page 174] the Fujiko Fujio duo in Toyama, each had their own coterie magazines, hand-drawn and single-copy, passed from member to member, sometimes across thousands of miles, and in some cases eventually on to pros and publishers in Tokyo. In many cases, it was these dōjinshi that brought their organizers their fi rst professional commissions, and that opened...