Perpetual Bachelors: Trope and Stigma

Nero Wolfe is a perpetual bachelor. Perpetual bachelors are a longstanding tradition in literature, from PG Wodehouse's upper-middleclass men fleeing from marriage to Sherlock Holmes with his bromantic partner. 

Nero Wolfe falls in the subcategory of "perpetual bachelor who has been around the block." Tom Selleck's Frank Reagan also falls into this category. Although Frank is surrounded (quite literally) by family, he remains unattached. He had a marriage. He has kids. He doesn't want to go back or start over or move on to something else. He and Henry, his father and a similar type of perpetual bachelor, have an honest conversation with Danny about their disinterest in marrying again. Danny also lost his wife but he doesn't see his father or his grandfather as people to emulate--in their relationships, at least. 

Regarding Nero Wolfe, hints in the books and shows suggest that Wolfe had passionate causes and relationships in his past. He now wants a life of order and comfort. 

PG Wodehouse's bachelors are less excused. Although the stories applaud Wooster each time he escapes his aunts' marriage plans, Wooster himself is portrayed as a less self-aware Wimsey: a young man with no real objective in life, flying from responsibility. Jeeves is perfectly willing to assist since Jeeves prefers the good life of caring for a single unencumbered individual than for a household. 

The modern, American equivalent of Wooster is the-guy-in-the-basement-playing-video-games-and-still-living-with-his-parents.

So there is a stigma attached to bachelorhood. However, it has never been as great as the stigma attached to "spinsters." Consider Vance's cats. Even the footloose and fancy-free spinster bears a greater stigma than the male variety. So Michael Weatherly's Tony (NCIS) is a fun-loving womanizer who simply hasn't found the right girl yet while some of the characters from Sex & the City strike even me as kind of skanky and stupid. In fairness, Blanche from Golden Girls, though often called "skanky" by others, comes across as a pragmatic woman who enjoys life and doesn't see the need to apologize for her forms of entertainment. (In so many ways, Golden Girls was ahead of its time and today's time.) 

Still--the idea that men sow wild oats while women fail to fulfill social responsibilities lingers. 

Overall, stigmas exist regarding both male and female singles. And those stigmas can increase for men and for women depending on a culture. That is, some cultures will criticize the single male more while others will sneer more at the single female.

Personally, I'm a fan of pluralism. Not "diversity," in part because the term has bullying connotations these days that I don't agree with. I don't agree with people being applauded for their differences. I believe in people being left alone to enjoy their differences. I live in a neighborhood with single people and married people and living-together people and people-with-kids...we get up, we go to work, we go to play, we go shopping. That's life. 

So if people are happy in a basement, why shouldn't they hang out there? 

Frenemies: Uncooperative Parents in Manga

One of the most common solutions in manga to Romeo & Juliet parents--you mustn't date that person!--is....

To bow. 

It's quite different from such romances in the West where the common solution is to walk away from or tell off the parents. Although Shakespeare likely meant Romeo & Juliet as a cautionary tale (along the lines of "teens are soooo stupid"), the plot of Romeo & Juliet has shaped the West's response to romance: when the home life gets rough, elope. 

And it's not an entirely awful solution--depending on the parents and the situation.

It highlights, however, the difference in manga. In Megumi & Tsugumi, when Megumi's father remains unconvinced that his son should be dating Tsugumi, not only does the son try (several times) to discuss the matter directly with him--alongside a bow--Tsugumi responds by saying, "Okay, so what do I have to do to impress you?"

The amusing aspect here is that Tsugumi is the most unrepentant, obstreperous, belligerent young man in existence. But he is honest and sincere. The same quality that leads him to confront fellow students in fights also leads him to say, "If that's what I need to do, fine, I'll do it." Unlike the arguing parents--and even his boyfriend--he stays on-track. Personally, he believes that trying to convince the non-supportive parent is a waste of time. But Megumi wants it, so why not actually do it, rather than arguing about it?

It's a fascinating variation on the "wait for the parent's approval" trope (again, far more common in BL than Western M/M literature) because it is so entirely individualistic. Tsugumi comes across, for once, as the most level-headed person in the room.

Importance of Religion to a Successful Marriage

On Votaries today, I wrote about dissenters and atheists. 

The question here is: How important is religion to a marriage?

The question can be split into at least two parts:

• How many marriages these days are interfaith (intermarriages) versus a single faith (intramarriages)? 
• Does interfaith versus intrafaith make any difference?

According to the Pew Research Center, most people marry people of the same faith. The number of interfaith households has increased--but honestly not as much as I anticipated. 

Some religions do encourage same faith marriages. And many people place agreement over religion above agreement over other things, like politics. 

However, it is also quite likely that people end up marrying within the same faith because those are the people they know. As Patrice Heller and Beatrice Wood point out in "The Influence of Religious and Ethnic Differences on Marital Intimacy: Intermarriage versus Intramarriage," "[S]alient categorical homogeneity--that is, when a couple shares the same meaningful religious and ethnic group affiliations--usually deepens attractiveness of a potential marital relationship" (242).  

In other words, we are all incredibly self-centered and want to be with people who remind us of us--or, to be less cynical, with people with whom we are comfortable. 

However, interfaith marriages are not therefore automatically less intimate (intimate being defined here as closeness within the marriage). While intramarriage couples share a common "language," the significant others also run the risk of making assumptions about each other when they "project similarity and agreement about a host of issues." On the other hand, while intrafaith couples may lack a similar "frame of reference for negotiating differences," they do negotiate more and carry out "self-disclosure" (242-243). 

In sum, the marriage's success is all about the couple. 

The article (full reference below) does a decent job of addressing the underlying issue: namely, people who participate in studies are...people who participate in studies. An intramarried couple who participated in this study (I would suggest) would already be fairly confident that religion binds them together while an interfaith couple who participated in this study would already be fairly confident that their differences don't preclude agreement in other ways and can be handled through discussion.

After all, that's what the researchers discovered!

Even more interesting, however, was that the researchers found that education (class) wasn't necessarily the fall-back "similarity." At the end of the article, they suggest more research is needed. 

I always appreciate non-self-help-book research that explore issues that are taken for granted.  

Heller, Patrice and Beatrice Wood. "The Influence of Religious and Ethnic Differences on Marital Intimacy: Intermarriage versus Intramarriage." Journal of Marital and Family Therapy, vol. 26, no. 2. April 2000, 241-252. 

Easter Message: Faith Isn't About Perfection

I came across a book [in 2009] about a man losing his faith. I flipped it open and immediately come across this argument (which I've encountered before):

I know so many religious people who don't practice what they preach; their religions (organized religions, usually) must therefore be pointless or useless or false.

I wanted to go on record as saying, I have never understood this argument. It rests on several fallacies, and the fallacies are, well, fallacious:

Fallacy #1: People practice their beliefs.

Got people? The gap between practice and belief is a fundamental truth of human nature from parents who smoke but tell their kids not to all the way to environmentalists who inform you about the earth's dwindling resources with one of their 2 million pamphlets (recycle, schmycled: it's still paper). These are, perhaps, obvious hypocrisies. There are still the usual gaps between private and public acts/beliefs and between private and public faces. Yes, ideally (see 2), people should be the same everywhere they go though I'm not even sure about that. I'm politically libertarian and religiously conservative. That is, I support certain actions politically that I don't practice personally. However, I don't pretend about it to anyone, so maybe that's the point.

Fallacy #2: People should practice their beliefs, and if they don't, their beliefs are not true or good.

The problem with this argument--which is obviously problematic but lots of people buy into it--is its corollary: If people do practice their beliefs, those beliefs must be true (martyrdom is often seen in this light). Most people will reject the latter statement as erroneous but accept the prior statement as true.

If I'm right, and people are flawed, then #2 is a non-starter. If I drive over the speed limit, that doesn't mean there is no speed limit. It could mean that the speed limit is unfairly low. But that is arguably an entirely different matter from whether or not a speed limit exists, which is a separate matter from whether a speed limit is a good idea. 

A thing can be true. It can be untrue. How people react to that truth is an independent and personal matter.

Arguably, in the long run, bad beliefs will consistently result in bad outcomes and good beliefs will consistently result in good outcomes ("fruit of the tree") but those experiments rest on people trying out the beliefs in the first place.

Fallacy #3: People should practice their beliefs, but if they only practice part of them, that's as good as them not practicing any of them.

This argument isn't too different from that bumper sticker I hate: "No one is free if others are oppressed." And it is so fundamentally inaccurate (and nihilistic), it's hard to know how reasonable/perceptive people can believe it. A man may be nice to his wife and kids but not so nice to his neighbors. It doesn't follow that his inability to be nice to everyone means that he is an entire failure at his religion (though it does depend on the religion) or that he should stop being nice to everyone entirely.

Of course, he probably should be nice to his neighbors. But it isn't an either/or proposition. Flaws do not indicate complete failure. I suppose there is a point where the equation tips, and the flaws outweigh the average person's ability to be perceived as good and kind. But from my perspective, that equation had better be pretty generous. I think many an academic argument has failed to understand an event or individual because the equation was not generous enough. I'm reading The Magician's Book by Laura Miller right now in which Miller attempts to balance what she perceives as C.S. Lewis's flaws with his talents in order to reach a balanced appreciation of books (the Narnia Chronicles) she loved as a child. I don't completely agree with her analysis or her arguments (or even her form of criticism since I put more weight on performance than I do on reading-between-the-lines), but I can read her book because of her generous perspective.

Deciding that someone's failure to live up to an ideal is the sum total of someone's personality is not an accurate, or charitable, assessment.

All groups are strange.

Fallacy #4: All groups are nasty to outsiders, thus all groups are bad; if someone is dissatisfied with a group (i.e. organized religion), it must mean that group has treated that person badly and behaved intolerantly (no other reason).

The truth is, the first part of the above statement appears to be part of the human condition: groups are nasty to outsiders. 

Back when I lived in Washington State, I listen to a lot of talk radio. One day, I was listening to a discussion of "whether gays can be Republican." I don't really understand these types of arguments. I figure people can do whatever they want. But the guest speaker, a gay writer about economics, was talking, and I started listening, and okay, I'll admit, economics mostly bore me but he had a fantastic voice: Bing Crosby meets James Earl Jones. Golden honey.

So he got done talking, and people started calling in, and a lot of the callers said things like, "Hi, I'm a fundamentalist conservative, and I think what you have to say is great!"

Any guesses on the angriest callers? Yep, those who thought the man had "betrayed" the Democratic Party by being a fiscal conservative.

I think my disillusionment about so-called liberal/left "tolerance" started about then. Actually, I was never really "disillusioned" because I've never really believed liberals were automatically more tolerant than anyone else, but my belief that similar types of human reactions can be found within any group received serious support on that day.

Unfortunately that reaction--"Traitor!"--isn't atypical. Humans are social animals and tend to act accordingly. We shouldn't (says the libertarian in me), but we do.

What bothers me about the claim, "All groups are nasty to outsiders, thus all groups are bad, so all dissatisfaction by the individual must be due to the group" is how seldom that claim allows for nuance and complication: that is, a group behaves a certain way, and everyone assumes that the group is behaving according to the cliché without examining the underlying, individual causes or variations.

Example #1: Burning witches is nasty; however, the cliché is that sweet, angelic, herb-planting midwives were scampering about their beautiful gardens worshiping earth-goddesses when the mean patriarchy (organized group) came along and burned them. For no reason at all!

Writers, such as Diane Purkiss, have pointed out that the witches weren't always angelic or midwives. In fact, often midwives testified against witches. Writers, such as Dan Burton and David Grandy, have pointed out that most witch accusations were made in small communities with long-standing grudges (not exactly systematic) and that in the few cases where accusations were systematic, men and boys were often executed as well.

The cliché tells a generalized truth: generally, women were accused and executed more than men, and generally, they tended to be marginalized members of their communities. Plus burning witches isn't nice. But it misses all the real-life realities: all the interesting stuff about actual trials and cases and individuals.

Example #2: When I first moved to Maine, I worked as a secretary in a law school. It was one of the most ideologically diverse places I've ever worked. We were all white but religiously and politically speaking, we had a representative for just about every position: mainstream, fundamentalist, atheist, agnostic, Democratic, liberal, Republican, conservative, Marxist . . .

Everyone got along okay, but ideologically-speaking, I was just about the only person there who didn't think someone was out to get me: big business, liberals, crazy religious people, diehard right-wingers, etc. etc. etc.

I figured they couldn't all be right--at least, not all right in the same place at the same time: Southern Maine wasn't going to become, in the next ten years, a left-leaning, fascist nightmare filled with godless, God-fearing fundamentalist Donald Trumps. I mean, sure, Maine taxes people too much, but I'm not sure one could blame that on left-leaning-fascist-godless-God-fearing-fundamentalist-Donald-Trumps. One could try, I suppose. But it would be kind of hard. I don't think even I could do it, and I believe that people are complicated and don't come all-of-a-piece.

This is the problem with saying (to condense the fallacy), "Oh, the group is to blame; the group is making me unhappy." It could be true. The people where I worked believed it was true, but that didn't automatically make it true or even probable. In fact, they'd each created an image of an anti-group and then become frightened by the image. (Who are all these conspiring people? Where are they?) I was more impressed by the fact that everyone got along okay, no matter how paranoid.

In other words, groups can behave badly, but they also usually behave complexly, so blaming the group (rather than the individual) may be correct, but it also may not, especially since the group--or the image of the group--may not even exist. In any case, "the group as bad guy" is not a given.

The above is an Easter message because--unlike some of the early 1800s religious messages I've been researching lately--this message asserts that perfection is not a requirement for God's grace. We needn't be ashamed of our imperfect natures or try to force that shame on others through illogical arguments. 

The exact nature of the relationship between grace and energy or desire or improvement is a difficult one--and not one I will attempt to solve here. Suffice to say: 

It is a possible one. 

Bad (as in Boring) Marriage Advice

I intended, a year or so ago, to write a series of posts about marriage advice and where that advice shows up in romantic fiction. 

I started with Gottman, who has actually done studies on what makes marriages work and has challenged a few sacred cows. 

I gave up. 

The reason: even Gottman's books get very samey. 

In fact, most books on marriage are about three or four pieces of decent advice wrapped up in entirely generic language with examples pulled from therapy sessions--and workbook pages. 

The writing--with the exception of the examples--reminds me of AI-generated writing. 

It is not that hard to create AI writing. Here is a made-up passage of a typical marriage advice book:

Of course, good communication starts with honest appraisals. The couple should matter-of-factly and frankly report their reasons for getting upset. Only when the couple can candidly face the true grounds for lashing out can the problem be resolved. 

In short--don't lie. 

Every time I try to read a marriage advice book (because relationships interest me), I start skipping the long-winded passages for the stories (which can be quite insightful). I also conclude that the whole thing could be reduced to a 10-page article and make a stronger impression. 

In any case, my brief foray into marriage counseling books convinces me that my underlying argument for this blog and the romance genre is correct:

The best way to learn about love is to learn about individuals.

Better in Fiction By Far Than Real Life: The Teasing Lover

I approach this archetype with trepidation. 

I sometimes enjoy the Teasing Lover in fiction.

I am not fond of the reality. 

As I state in my post about April Fool's Day, I think that many people use teasing as an opportunity to bully rather than perform funky stunts (see image). I'll go even further. I think many people find it easy to be bullies these days since the current culture says, "Hey, you don't have to ask questions or question your own assumptions or mind your own business or listen to what other people try to tell you or discover, you know, actual facts. You have a bunch of labels to apply and you care. You can judge people as much as you want!"

The bullying aspect becomes obvious when the bully (1) balks at similar treatment; (2) falls back on "but you are the one who needs to be fixed" criticisms when called out. For instance, if a bully is called out for being hypocritical (not applying standards of tolerance equally, for instance) or slovenly (not rising to the same standards applied to others), the bully will find a way to blame those that the bully usually castigates. The bully is excused while the "others" are inherently flawed, requiring denunciations. Sometimes, a bully will even criticize the "others" for not anticipating the bully's comments, for not taking steps to prevent the bullying before it happened. 

In sum, the bully never plays fair. Such bullies will often fall back on "I was just teasing" as an excuse. 

I separate teasing from actual jokes and in-one's-face ridicule. I'm not saying I care for the latter but Tim Allen's humor on his sitcoms doesn't bother me even when he is joking about someone. For one, he never pretends he isn't doing what he is doing. And he is willing to receive the same treatment in kind. On Last Man Standing, he goes after Ryan, but he also takes what Ryan dishes out. He never says, "Oh, I didn't really mean that...I was just...you are the one who needs to listen...if you're going to be that way...I was only speaking my mind, but you've gone too far..." In fact, on occasion, he will prod Ryan to finish his thought.

However, I still prefer the kind of humor one finds on Frasier and lots and lots of British sitcoms: parody and sarcasm directed at circumstances or events rather than at a person. I also think it is harder to be funny with circumstances and events than with individual people (in fairness, Tim Allen can deliver the circumstances type of humor as well).  

So, have I ever liked teasing in romantic fiction?

Occasionally.

The difference between "good" teasing and horrible teasing on shows and in real life comes down to the "story." Horrible teasing, like Twitter conversations, is almost always based on a story invented by the teaser about the recipient. The teaser thinks that this version of the recipient is important or hilarious or offensive or troubling and deserves to be brought to the recipient's notice (there is more than a sense of "I am putting you in your place" involved). 

"Good" teasing that doesn't make the skin crawl is usually focused on the teaser creating a joke in the moment. 

On Red Dwarf, although Rimmer could easily be labeled any number of things, including Complainer and Entitled Guy, Lister continually treats Rimmer as if each event is a new event, rather like Millan treating "red zone" dogs as if they might, at any moment, become sweet and cuddly. 

In real life, the tolerant behavior performed here by Lister and Millan is incredibly difficult to mimic. Dedicated libertarians and saints can do it. Everybody else waffles. 

In writing, the difference is tremendous. The professor in HIStory 2 likes to tease, but it isn't awful because the teasing happens in specific moments, as when he pretends to be an angst-ridden guy (he isn't). Since his younger boyfriend is a serious fellow who will end up running the relationship and managing the family, the teasing in that moment has a place. 

Likewise, in Taming of the Shrew, Petruchio is given a label/story about Katerina by the people around her. When he meets her, he drops the story and treats her like a person. And they go at it. Fun! 

And Jaeyeong in Semantic Error, who sets out to locate the guy who challenged his GPA, Sangchoo, loses interest in "fixing" the other guy when he decides that the reality of Sangchoo is way more fun than the story. Jaeyeong's behavior is suffused with so much good humor and affection, he is excused a great deal. He is moreover a magnanimous guy: when Sangchoo "teases" him back by putting a dot on his face, he describes it to a friend later as a "token of affection."

In opposition to all the above, the treatment of Malvolio in Twelfth Night crosses a line. The teasing is, in fact, directed at a particular type of person--the type of a person who likes to criticize everybody else's behavior and despises all "unrighteous" entertainment (in fact, an early Woke Puritan)--and arguably, Malvolio deserves what he gets. But after awhile, it rankles. 

Likewise, I prefer my "stooges" to be Ryans or Rimmers rather than the guy who gets kicked around every episode. That is, I refer my obnoxious/combative characters to get in zingers of their own. 

Michael J. Fox as Alex was far more interesting when he started talking back than when he was the hopeless teenager who needed to be continually fixed. 

Good teasing celebrates the individual rather then diminishing whatever oddities a person has to offer. 

Complaint: Pronouns in Manga Translations

Minato corrects Tsuge's use of a pronoun.

I recently came across a BL manga in which the American translators deliberately and consistently mistranslated a term to imply that a character was transgender rather than a cross-dresser. The two terms are not interchangeable. In fact, many gay men (not all, of course, since no "rule" applies to all individuals) will state that they experimented with cross-dressing when they were younger without wishing to give up their male biology (a decision that solidified when puberty hit).

Reviewers of the manga who actually knew Japanese and had read the translation in its original were ticked. They felt (correctly) that the translation was deceitful and disrespectful.

 

I feel the same when American translations insist on using "they" for the singular individual in Japanese manga. 

 

The problem is that "they," especially in American speech, is a generic pronoun that shows up (still) in lazy writing based on poor research:  "Oh, they said this. They think that." The pronoun becomes a kind of placeholder, not that different from the use of "it" in "it is raining." 

 

I am aware that individuals voluntarily apply "they" to themselves. That's a choice. I am pointing out here that Asian speech is rarely so dismissive and rude, even when people are upset.  

Not only do many Asian languages include honorifics, said languages will often use names when referring to people, not pronouns. Consider that in the video clip, Can clearly refers to himself in the third person: "Can will survive." He doesn't even use "I." (The Viki translation uses the third-person reference.)

 

Can is being cute. However, foregoing the first-person pronoun is preferred in many Asian languages. The choice of pronoun, when used, is the speaker's responsibility: how speakers present themselves, not how other people are supposed to react/think about the speakers. Can's mother calls him out for how he refers to himself in her presence.

 

As for honorifics, they are attached to nearly every single acknowledgement of the other person in the conversation--a part of speech, not an off-the-cuff, one-time "sir" or "ma'am" that is then discarded. A failure to use an honorific or the adoption of a more formal honorific is often noted--but the default is to revert to the proper honorific. And the use of honorifics is not one-sided--a speaker not only gives respect when it is due but submits to how the speaker is referred to by a senior or elderly person. Context is everything.

 

Translations that ignore these subtleties may be poor translations. Unfortunately, these days, they may be deliberately arrogant and dishonest translations. 

 

It amazes me how people who claim to love other cultures want to turn all those cultures into being entirely American. The narrow thinking here is astonishing.

That's me. I put the pronoun problem to The Translator. Below is the response:

The Translator: The default in Japanese is to eschew pronouns. No need for the execrable "they." Simply leave it out.

When social status is involved, use titles or honorifics. Your senpai or sensei isn't "you." Say "senpai" or "sensei" where you would say "you" in English. These relationships can continue for the rest of their lives. Even among equals, moving from last names to first names is a big deal. It is perfectly normal to use a third person reference instead of a pronoun.

The nonsense with English pronouns probably comes across as strange to most. There is a small contingent in Japanese society desperate to be as woke as their American counterparts, though this is as yet a powerless contingent, all bark and no bite. The sociolinguistics in a culture as deeply rooted as Japan's swats away such fads like an annoying insect.

Pronoun usage can inadvertently reveal a person's background and create a minefield of manners in the process. Again, another reason to avoid them.

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TpmO0nitGVw

Complaint: The Right to Love is Not a Right

The people who love to create rules about everything have added another one: The right to love!

The phrase, unfortunately, does not refer to the right to love others--but to the right to BE loved ("love" as a noun, not a verb). 

My problem here goes beyond the ethical issue, but I'll attend to the ethical issue first. Any right that insists on other people's compliance--rather than the right-holder's liberty to pursue an end--is suspect. Defending someone in doing something is not the same as defending someone who will make other people do something.

 

There is a world of difference between the right "to work, speak my mind, and marry" and the tyranny of "other people ought to give me that job, other people ought to listen to me, and other people ought to want to marry me."

 

Love in relationships involves at least one other person. It's not a right.

 

The bigger problem, here, is the lecturing tone that creeps into romance stories.

 

The beauty of romance is the "falling off a cliff" quality, the unexpectedness, the marvel of soulmates discovering each other, of a relationship growing and working. Demanding it as some kind of "I was born--now the next part of life must occur" not only creates constantly dissatisfied people, it creates stories that true romantics would rather not read.

 

Suppose Jane Eyre goes to work for Mr. Rochester and when he declares his affection, she responds, "Well, of course. Based on everything I've been through, I deserve to earn someone's affection."

 

Or suppose that instead of being disappointed at Elizabeth's initial refusal--and learning something about himself as a result--Darcy responds, "But my suffering must be alleviated. I'm owed the love of a good woman."

 

Sounds pretty awful, doesn't it? 

 

So why is it being advocated?

 

I doubt the reviewers and writers who argue for "the right to be loved" are thinking about the characters themselves. The characters should doubt, then act relieved and happy and elated when their love is returned, when they find someone who speaks on their wavelength. 

 

Except the reviewers and writers then declare: Let that be a lesson to all of us! The characters got what everyone should get.

Inevitably, the latter attitude will creep into the writing. Characters begin to lose their sense of personal responsibility. They act put out when things don't go their way. After awhile, they begin to resemble spoiled brats who mustn't be challenged by life or by others. Giveme giveme giveme. 

 

One reason I read manga and resort to Asian BL as much as I do is because the sense of "wow--a relationship actually happened to me--isn't it wonderful?!" is still present. As well as a sense of personal responsibility. In comparison, on occasion, Western romance is a little too...

 

Self-satisfied. 

 

Where's my romance? Hasn't it arrived yet? Here are all the reasons I deserve one!

 

(There are good Western romances out there--just a whole lot of chaff to get out of the way.) 

 

It is impossible to invest in characters with the above mental framework--not outside of "here's a good little story where all the approved-of people are rewarded and all the disapproved-of people suffer" moralistic tale-telling.

 

I often feel that these particular romance writers are about two seconds away from lecturing readers, non-ironically, on HOW and HOW NOT to court real life people, especially those writers who produce non-humorous trigger warnings. Here's the list. Now, obey. 

 

Romance is big and human and random and risky enough to withstand this lessening of its fundamental power. But I make the protest anyway: 

 

Leave the magic of romance alone! Stop shoveling rules and tut-tutting on top of potentially good stories!

Interview with the Translator: Hills of Silver Ruins, Poverty

Kate: When Risai and others enter Tai, they encounter a ravaged and danger-filled country, rife with poverty. 

A great deal is discussed about poverty in the books, especially in Hills of Silver Ruins. I know from previous conversations with you and from your post on “parasite singles” that in Japan, individuals are expected, even required, to go to their families first before they go to the state. In the manga series, What Did You Eat Yesterday? Kenji’s deadbeat father hasn’t lived with the family for years, yet the local welfare agency sends a letter to the mother anyway, basically asking, “Is there anything you can do?” The family meet and confer before sending back a polite negative. (Americans would call up the local Social Security office and rant for twenty minutes.)

The discussions in Hills of Silver Ruins seem to focus on people helping themselves but only if the structures are in place that make that possible—Sure, we will work hard but we have to be allowed to get jobs and take home the cash. Hence, Gouysuaa’s efforts, described in more than one book, to end as peacefully as possible the siege on the town that wouldn’t pay taxes—because the town had a point.

Does Ono’s attitude here towards poverty reflect a general attitude in Japan? Or a specific political/economic attitude held by a specific group?

Eugene: Kipling could have written "The Gods of the Copybook Headings" as a treatise about contemporary Confucian attitudes toward life and work in Northeast Asia.

And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins
When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins,
As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn,
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!

Thus, as in The Devil is a Part Timer, the first thing a stranded alien does when he shows up in Japan is go to school or get a job (or both).

 In Kaguya-sama: Love Is War, Kaguya's father, a soulless business machine (with intimations of connections to organized crime), is not treated with as much contempt as Miyuki's layabout father. In contrast, the most valiant stock character in all of Japanese fiction is the single mother who keeps hearth and home together despite the most bizarre of circumstances. Seiko in The Demon Girl Next Door is an excellent example.

In Asian society, "make work" is not an anathema. In practice, lifetime employment necessarily results in low productivity and overall lower wages, as does overhiring. But it is a price Japanese society has long been prepared to pay, and with little debate. Hence the ubiquitous sight of "elderly guys, wearing bright orange jackets, waving what looks like a cheap lightsaber toy around" in the vicinity of any construction zone.

That's pretty much the situation we see developing at the end of book 3 of Hills of Silver Ruins.

Soup kitchens and boarding houses were built in cities where large numbers of refugees had congregated. Agents set up shop among them, recruiting workers to rebuild the towns and cities damaged by war and natural disasters. Despite the meager wages, news of paying jobs drew in more refugees from outside Zui Province.

The job recruiter is depicted as a heroic role throughout the novel, and the "tax holiday" in order to encourage commerce (even on the black market) is seen as good policy.

Hajime Aoyama in Coffee Ikaga Deshou ("How About a Coffee") turned his life around (he was a mob enforcer for a loan shark) when he met a homeless man (Tako) who turned out to be a coffee connoisseur. In his makeshift shack beneath an underpass, he teaches Hajime the art of roasting, grinding, and brewing coffee. This category of homeless person is more an urban camper with extremely low overhead.

A romanticized view, to be sure, the self-organized homeless do come across as so well organized that it is not hard to see it as the lingering remnants of the black market economy from the post-war Occupation period. As Japan's society ages, social welfare policy is slowly stepping in to pick up the slack.

Getting back to Kipling, though, in Coffee Ikaga Deshou, this idea of coming to terms with your sins is a central theme, and Hajime must at some point confront his past, which also brings him into contact with Tako's estranged family.

Why NOT the Prince?

Past Halloweens, I've posted about various costume choices: the witch, the pirate, the wolf. 

This year, it occurred to me to ponder, Why NOT the prince? That is, why are prince costumes less common?

Lots of princesses, from (yes, yes, yes) Elsa to fairy queens and such. I costumed as a fairy queen when I was younger (picture to the left). 

However, unlike with Princess Leia, I don't remember wanting to play the fairy queen. It was an available costume (yes, it is likely the same dress). 

I did want to be Princess Leia, and I suggest that princesses show up for the same reason as Han Solo and Buzz Lightyear: they go on adventures, they build ice castles, they do things.

They wear great clothes, sure! But they wear them while performing, rather like all the female protagonists on television who run around in heels (in the case of Nana Visitor, the heels were likely so she would at least be on the same screen with all her 6-feet co-stars). 

One rarely sees "Prince Charming" costumes, precisely because princes in many tales seem to do little more than mope and step on the stage at the appropriate moment. It would be fun to see a bunch of trick-or-treaters show up wearing "kingly accountant costumes" or "princely diplomatic costumes" but one would have to be in on the joke--as when Niles and Frasier bemoan their costumes as youngsters: first, as the Bay of Pigs and then as Swine Lake. Nobody laughed. (Okay, I would have.)

I suspect that most prince costumes just look like military costumes--and the military version is far more recognizable.

As is the musician's version...

Totally different Prince.

Unconditional Love in Way of the Househusband

Volume 8 of Way of the Househusband offers a hilarious scene in which Miku, Tatsu, and Tatsu's disciple, Matsu, try to decide what movie to watch. 

Miku wants to watch a cute anime featuring Policure, a gag reference to a series in which an unabashedly cute girl does magic. Think Charmed, only younger and (even) sweeter, with criminal investigations. Miku offers Crime Catch Policure Raid Max and Crime Catch Policure Gangbuster Star. 

"What's the difference!?" she says in offended surprise and produces a lengthy recital of the series' positive attributes. 

Tatsu counters with what are obviously thinking-man's dramas (and a sly reference to Way of the Househusband): Tough Being a Man 1, Tough Being a Man 2, Tough Being a Man 3, Tough Being a Man 4 plus Tora's Shattered Romance, Tora Goes to Vienna, Tora Makes Excuses. 

"These are practically the same movie," Matsu says. 

"Dumbass, look closer," Tatsu counters. "The lead's gravitas increases with each film."

Matsu goes full action: Yakuza versus Poltergeist, Yakuza versus Anaconda, Yakuza versus Dragon (my personal favorite). 

"They are all different genres," Matsu passionately tells the others. 

The lovely point of these comparisons is that the three are totally committed to their choices. To them, each movie is distinct, each plot is unique, each problem is resolved in a satisfying way that didn't happen before. 

They aren't delusional. 

They are in love. 

Art the way it should be.

Complaint: M/M Writers Are Turning Characters Into Bullies

Don't get me wrong. There are good M/M writers out there. 

But lately a number of M/M writers have begun using their supposedly enlightened characters to work off vicarious bullying.

I recently read the latest tome of a series that I enjoyed--up until the latest tome. The other books are funny, clever stories with hilarious denouements. 

And then, in the last book, the authors decided that the main character was non-binary. 

I will be frank. The current emphasis on labels, such as non-binary, etc., is appallingly reactionary. It is more 1950s neo-Victorianism than the 1950s and Victorian Era. It is so entirely reductionist, I suspect it is promoted by people who are troubled by modern life and truly, in their heart of hearts, want a return to a world where male behavior is definitively MALE and female behavior is definitively FEMALE. 

As David French recently wrote, "[T]here’s a strange convergence between left and right on the matter of gender stereotypes. The stereotypes are too powerful on both sides. One side identifies what a boy or girl is 'really like' and tries to make all kids conform. Another side makes the same judgment and questions whether nonconforming kids are 'really boys' or 'really girls.'" 

I agree. Rather than "male" and "female" being expanded and explored and widened, these reactionary types prefer the terms to be so narrowed that anyone who is even vaguely outside the assigned definitions has to call him or herself something else. Heaven forbid that people should just be complex! Heaven forbid that a man like pink shirts, unicorns, and football. Wait, that means he is...THIS LABEL! Heaven forbid that a biological woman use "her" pronouns without first apologizing to the world for being "cisgendered"--or conceding, "No, I guess I'm actually something else. I will immediately adopt the proper label and associated thought-process."

What's worse is the thoughtlessness, what Ayaan Hirsi Ali refers to as a lack of critical thinking.  In the disappointing tome, the nature of the main character as non-binary excuses the character's behavior. The label--actually, to a degree, simply the self-belief or, even, the vague attitude--provides instant victimhood, so much victimhood, the character doesn't have to think through "who am I" as a personal struggle within the reality of social expectations and outcomes, a struggle that will lead to personal growth. The character also doesn't have to accept consequences or treat others well. The character needs to endure and then be accepted. 

From a writing point of view, the problem here isn't politics or social impact. The problem is bad art. That is, the result is not that dissimilar from Victorian morality tales. All tell, no show. The people with the proper ideologies and backgrounds succeed. They never have to defend themselves. They never have to grow up. They have the correct upbringing. They vote the required way. And they have the designated labels. The audience knows of whom to approve, who deserves love. Complexity of character and complexity of ideas take a backseat to never being wrong and never having to suffer.

In real life, there are intelligent, well-read, thoughtful biologists who question the theories associated with non-binary, etc. There are thoughtful activists who point out the possible ramifications, especially to feminism. In real life, there are conservative and libertarian gay men, some of them quite vocal. In real life, Bari Weiss exists.

One reason I write what I write is that my gay characters aren't labels or excused victims or representatives of a group. They are characters in a story, and they care primarily about their stories. 

They also aren't bullies, unless bullying is an inherent personality trait--in which case, the bullying is part of the character arc. They aren't "excused" bullies. Nobody gets to treat other people like trash based on a notion of "progression" or "advancement." 

Actually, some of my characters do that.

They are villains.

Twelve Kingdoms: Interview with the Translator, Children & Teenagers

Kate: Shadow of the Moon ruthlessly dismantles the worldview of a rather ordinary teenager who wafts through life expecting to be catered to and understood.

Do the Japanese have any patience with "snowflakes"? Or is the whole American obsession with teenagers kind of a bemusing oddity? Does Japanese Twitter ever reach the heights of American Twitter in terms of pure angry self-absorption?

Eugene: Of course, manga and anime focus a lot of attention on the teenage experience, but not typically the kind of attention that sets them at odds with the greater society. Love, Chunibyo & Other Delusions sets up the classic conflict between conformity and being "true to yourself," but makes compelling arguments on both sides and doesn't attempt to universalize the conclusions.

A comparison of old adages makes for an interesting exercise in sociolinguistics. In Japan, the nail that sticks out gets hammered down, while in the west, the squeaky wheel gets the grease. They sound similar but are opposite concepts. As illustrated in Rascal does not Dream of Bunny Girl Senpai, the online culture in Japan wields that hammer just as ruthlessly as elsewhere.

The nail that sticks out gets hammered down and the snowflake gets the blowtorch. For good or ill, this is very much a product of gaman culture. You're supposed to get with the program, try hard, persevere, and fit in. A funny example of this is One Punch Man. The most powerful superhero in the universe gets no respect until he gets with the program (including the paperwork) and fits in.

To be sure, trendy activism is alive and well in Japan, ready to be discovered by western journalists, but is not nearly as influential (if at all) beyond the fringes. NHK World, for example, which caters to western audiences, tends to give the latest and greatest woke issues a degree of attention that suggests a prominence inside Japan that simply does not exist outside of select enclaves.

At the end of his "Why You Should Move to Japan" video, Nobita from Japan cites Japan's reluctance to adopt the woke politics of the west as a reason.

Clownfish TV explores the subject in depth here. 

Kate: I'm sure that someone somewhere has written a massive intellectual treatise on the plethora of children in Japanese manga/anime. From a popular culture perspective, what accounts for it? Why do children show up so much in anime/manga/light novels in adult situations? Or as long-lived children? Like in C.S. Lewis, very little hand holding is expended on these kids. Their youth is part of their attraction, not an excuse for their behavior.

Any thoughts? Are wise-beyond-their-years children a trope in Japanese literature, specific to certain authors, part of the cultural mindset?

Are Westerners the outliers, being squeamish (and more committed to the Victorian ideal of innocent childhood)?

Eugene: The most obvious answer is marketing. The editorial content of the numerous manga periodicals and imprints are designed by publishers to target specific demographics. Because consumers of manga and anime outside Japan tend to be older, they often overlook material aimed at younger audiences.

Several of the most popular and long-running anime on Japanese television are practically unknown in North America. Chibi Maruko-chan (over 1200 episodes to date) is a lighthearted melodrama about a traditional Japanese family in the 1970s. The POV character is a nine-year-old girl, so we see that world through her eyes.

There are a lot of authorized videos on YouTube. They're not localized, but it's worth watching an episode or two just to hear Tarako Isono as Maruko.

Delving more deeply into the social psychology of the matter, helicopter parenting simply hasn't become a thing in Japan. Basically, the kind of hands-off approach that kids enjoyed growing up in the American suburbs fifty years ago remains alive and well.

Elementary school students walk to school. By themselves. This expectation that young children can handle such responsibilities is taken as a given. The video at this link above is from a reality show in which little kids are given fairly complex tasks to accomplish by themselves.

In Non Non Biyori, once school is out, there is barely an adult in sight, also true of the elementary school kids in the more urban Den-noh Coil. At the end of Super Cub, three high school girls ride their scooters all the way to the southern tip of Kyushu. By themselves. And then there is the whole school government thing.

All this means that kids in Japan are not only allowed to do more interesting things, but it is easy to push the boundaries a bit and have them do really interesting things. Frankly, the spelunking expedition at the end of The Phantom Doctor strikes even me as crazy dangerous, but it would have been hugely appealing to Edogawa's readers.

In other words, Japanese not only expect more of (and grant greater latitude to) real children, but fictional children as well. It is the freest time of their lives, after all, and should not be wasted. (The girls in Super Cub go on their adventure during the spring break before their senior year, because that's when the fun pretty much ends.)

Kate: I previously taught a course about working women in America. The impact of biology—the reality of bearing children, giving birth and raising children—greatly influenced women’s work (when, how, what) historically and now.

Ono seems far more aware of the connection between work and childbearing than many Westerners. Many laws in the United States directly address many of these issues, but the reality of childbirth—perhaps as it loses its inherent risks—seems to be admitted with a shrug rather than an appraisal of its impact.

Does that awareness stem from Japanese culture? From its inherent conservatism?

Eugene: There are several long-standing aspects of Japanese culture that do address the inherent problems here in unique ways. First of all, especially among the aristocracy, well into the 20th century, legitimacy was readily conferred upon the offspring of mistresses. The current imperial line descends from one of Emperor Meiji's concubines, not his legal wife (Meiji was the last emperor to have concubines). 

The second is muko-iri marriage, according to which the husband is adopted into the wife's family. This is still relatively common today. "You can't choose your sons but you can choose your sons-in-law." In some cases, sans any children, a family business will adopt a loyal employee to keep the family name alive. The connection between work and childbearing thus becomes a negotiable arrangement.

Japan's current low birth rate and high female employment rate (above the OECD average) suggests that working and childbearing continue to be seen in mutually exclusive terms.Though it should also be pointed out that helicopter parenting is not a thing in Japan, which shifts the burdens of childrearing around. Nobody freaks out about unattended kids out and about in public.

So while contemporary Japanese society has evolved more slowly away from "traditional marriage" as the ideal model for organizing society, the real world is a lot more complicated, and the fictional world has taken full advantage. The working mother and the single mother in melodrama and comedy are ubiquitous at this point, and the single dad has become of late a favored protagonist.

After the Rain features the teenage daughter of a single mom and a divorced dad. The Way of the Househusband is about a stay-at-home dad (who happens to be a former yakuza). No children yet. Speaking of which, Ryuji in Toradora often gets mistaken for a yakuza (like his father), but he's a good kid who looks after his single mom (who works in a nightclub) more than she looks after him.

The responsible kid with the irresponsible single mom (who nonetheless has a heart of gold) is an established trope. Hanasaku Iroha begins with Ohana's mom sending her to her grandmother's country inn while she runs off with her latest boyfriend. In Beyond the Boundary, Akihito would prefer that his mom stay out of his life as she's a demon (not a terrifying demon, a total goofball of a demon).

Of course, you can count on manga and anime to push a concept to its logical extreme, so the preternaturally competent Kotaru in Kotaru Lives Alone is all of five years old.

At least in the fictional realm, raising independent children who can raise themselves is one sort-of solution.