J a p a n e s e    C u l t u r e

In this video my son Ray demonstrates the use of a Japanese toy called a "Mojibake" which means a transforming or morphing letter. The toy transforms from being a Sino-Japanese ideograph (kanji) meaning tiger into a little plastic model of a tiger.

Japanese toys and superheroes are always transforming by means of a symbol. Masked riders put symbols to their belts, inject USB drives into their blood stream, or are bitten by cosmic bats. Power ranges manipulate symbols, including Kanji (Shinkenja-) that also allow them to transform in to super beings.

This use of symbols to produce living entities is similar to the way in which people in totemistic societies (such as Native Americans) received totem badges containing ancestral spirit to become their own soul.

While there are some that claim that Kanji only mean things via phonemes - that they need to be pronounced in order to have meaning, Chad Hansen (1993) a scholar of Chinese philosophy claims that Kanji not only mean but that they mean things not ideas. The Western signification system is triparite: words mean ideas which mean things. The Chinese system is dual: characters mean things.

If this is the case, then from a radical social constructivist or Sapir-Warphian perspective, the existence of the character provides a symbolic tool for the cognition, and perhaps existence of the lion. In the far East, in the beginning was the kanji.

Since Ray was about three years old he has spent countless hours symbolically transforming things into other things. I think that he has managed to become Japanese without my help.

Hansen, C. (1993). Chinese Ideographs and Western Ideas. The Journal of Asian Studies, 52(02), 373–399. doi:10.2307/2059652

Labels: Bokenger, culture, Gao-Ranger, go-onger, henshin, japan, japanese culture, Masked Riders, totemism, 日本文化

A sub-genre of superhero fiction are partnerships between super-friends, and a human (often a boy). This genre is particularly popular in Japan.

These super-friends are controlled by an otherwise ordinary mortal man or boy. Mazinger-Z was a giant robot radio controlled by a boy. Pokemon (pocket monster) Pikachu is kept in the pocket of his friend, ready to fight at his bidding. Doraemon, another robot, lives in the closet of a boy called Nobita, ready to help the latter in the many ways he can. Gundam is a robotic suit worn by a boy called Amuro Rei. Ultraman is an extraterestial giant that possesses and is possessed by a squadsman called Hayata; unlike Clark Kent and Superman, Hayata and Ultraman are not quite the same thing.

Others similar entities include Tetsujin-28, the god of death in "Death Note", the mother-possessed (!) suits in Evangelion, the giant mecha that appear in every series of Super-Sentai (Power Rangers), and duality observed in the Masked Riders such as Kamen Rider Denou.

Western superheroes are far more likely to be a unity that only appears dual due to the fact that for some of the time, the superhero poses as a normal, but "secret" "alter ego." Western superheroes are dual only epistemologically. Japanese superheroes are ontologically dual.

Japanese super friends are often but not always giants, and often but not always robots. They are also often unable to speak. Pikachu can only say its name, Ultraman can only pant. Many Japanese superheros and characters (such as hello kitty) do not have mouths at all, or have masks which cover their mouths.

Lacking in language, these super friends often carry out the will of their human partner. The super-friends are *all body* - taken to the extreme in Gundam and Evangelion - that provide the power, or technology to carry out the human will.

Western Imaginary friends on the other other hand, as I will argue in a seperate post, are often all mind and no body. They provide their human friend with information. Western super friends above all speak to their human partner. The human carries out the will of the imaginary super-being.

Images copyright Mazinger-z by joeszilvagyi, Doraemon by Wacko Photographer, Pikachu by ntang, HG 00 Gundam by Chag and ultrama photographed by me but all characters/images copyright their original creators.

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Labels: Bandai, Bokenger, Gao-Ranger, go-onger, henshin, nihonbunka, reversal, Super-Sentai, superhero, ultraman, スパー戦隊, 仮面ライダー, 合体, 変身, 日本文化

As predicted, the alter-egos of Japanese superheroes are more individualistic than their super human forms, in the extent to which they will not sacrifice themselves for their groups and the extent to which they go their own way. It is the superheroes in their super form who are more conformist, more respectful of the needs of others.

The same tendency was found among Western super heroes from a Japanese perspective. The most commonly chosen Western superhero was Spiderman, who is encouraged to realise that "with great power comes great responsibility." Perhaps Spiderman is rather Japanese.

It would be ne interesting to do the survey among Westerners who know more unharmonious Western superheroes such as the Hulk and the darker side of Batman. In spite of the data collected in Japan, I still predict that many Western Superheroes are individualistic to the point of being anti-heroic in the 'go against the grain' sense, while often their alter-egos are at least pretending to be conformists. I.e. that in the images beneath the graph above, the individualists are on the right.

Unfortunately I do not have access to Western data but I predict that Western superheros may seem more individualistic than their human alter-egos to Westerners.

This data taken together with a previous study, may support the notion that, while Japanese superheroes are more collectivist than Western ones (by all appraisals) this may represent the socially desired norm, rather than the social reality. Or, more strongly, Japanese admire collectivists because they aren't, and Westerners admire individualists because they 'wanna be'.

With thanks to Taku Shimonuri who suggested comparing the ind/col of superheroes and Yasuko Takemoto who pointed out that one needed to be an individualist to become a Japanese superhero.

Labels: Bokenger, collectivism, culture, Gao-Ranger, individualism, japan, japanese culture, Masked Riders, nihobunka, nihonbunka, 個人主義, 変身, 集団主義

Superheros transform.

Superheros have a tendency to transform, in some sense, the world over.

The transformation of Japanese superheroes has, in a matter of degreee at least, differences from that of those in the West.

Ontological or Epistemological transformation.

Western superheroes are more likely to transform by virtue of what is know about them, in the epistemological plane. Japanese superheros are more likely to transform in terms of what they are, in the ontological plane.
For example, Clark Kent is always super in his being. His transformation into Superman is an epistemoligical one, motivated only by the desire to protect his "secret identity." Clark Kent's being does not change. He is just as strong, just as super-powered, as Clark Kent as he is when he is Superman. Peter Parker likewise can be said to "transform" into Spiderman, but the change is purlely epstemological, one of cloaking, a change of appearance. Peter Parker is just as strong, just as super-powered, as Peter Parker as he is after he dons his spandex suit. His transformation is to protect the secrecy, the epistemoligical aspect of what people know about him. Bruce Wayne's transformation into Batman is predominantly epistemoligical, to protect his "secret identity" but thanks to the technology he dons, effects a change in his powers. His suit is not merely a charade, but change his ontology, who he is. Bruce Banner's epistemological identity as the Incredible Hulk is known to many in the films, but his being changes. He becomes far stronger. The X-men, such as Wolverine likewise transform in a predominantly ontological way. James Howlett or Logan is *known* by many, but not all, to be Wolverine. He changes predominantly in an ontological way; his body changes, he grows claws.

Japanese superheroes are far more likely to transform on the ontological end of the spectrum. The continuity of their two modes of being are more often not a secret. Epstemologically, the two modes of being are far more likely to be known as one and the same. Far more often, it is only their mode of being that changes. That Hayata is Ultraman is not so much a question of secrecy but of his mode of being. He changes at will to his superhuman form in order to fight, but not in order to keep a secret of who he is from day to day.
Many Japanese superheroes, such as those in the Super Sentai range, such as the Go-Onger five, make no secret of the fact that they are able to transform into their super-powered 'alter ego.' Even while human, they are in costume, they give away their identity completely. And yet they *transform*, ontologically, into a more powerful beings.

Labels: bug-eye, culture, Gao-Ranger, japan, japanese culture, Jaques Lacan, nihonbunka, Super-Sentai, superhero, 日本文化

It has puzzled me for a long time why so many Japanese superheroes (Ultra-man, Kamen riders, Voltron or Golion, Go-Onger, Gao-ranger you name ‘em) have bug eyes, unmoving mouths, or no mouth at all and have a strong connection with mime.

I now have a theory about the connection between Japanese superheroes and mime.

Japanese superheroes make many gestures (see image right), like mime artists. And more, in a sense they also speak. But their mouths are always immovable. Often they do not have mouths at all. And yet they do speak: They mime speech!

Typicaly, a group of young males and one female strike poses, press buttons, or contact someone in heaven on a magical mobile phone, and change ("hensin") into a team of superheroes wearing colour coded wetsuits. Why should then even need to change into a super hero suit? There is no secret made of their identity. They then do stylised battle, reminiscent of badly choreographed pro-wrestling, with one or more wetsuited monsters, often with a conspicuously mobile jaw, in a car park.

As the superheroes fight they 'speak', or shout, encouraging each other. But where does their speech come from? Their mouths can not move, nor even open. They mime speech. They take out their magic mobile phones and put them to their motionless mouths. All eyes are focused toward the miming speaker.

In the mimicry of speech they are much like masked performers in the Noh Play. The body language of the players mimes speech to perfection, but the face does not move at all.

Nowhere is the mime aspect of Japanese superheroism more apparent than in the live stage shows performed for children. Performers in coloured mouthless wetsuits come on stage. Someone somewhere presses a button on a ghetto glaster, and off they go, miming their way through an Ultraman epic, never once saying a word, but all the while making it plain who is speaking.

The Japanese boys love it. They imitate the gestures, like the ultra-man laser beam pose above.

So why is miming speech so important?

According to Lacan the human self exists by virtue of two incomplete feedback loops: those provided by voice and vision.

We can look at ourselves in the mirror, but we can never see the minds eye. We can speak ourselves, but Lacan argues, the enunciated "I am" of self speech, never quite coheres with the self that would be saying it.

However, with two ways back to the self, we play a shell game, or two card monte, always satisfied that when the word does not hit the mark, we can see ourselves in a mirror. And when the mirror seems empty, we can call ourselves by name.

The problem remains however, in convincing ourselves that our speech comes from the same place as our mouth. Ventriloquists mime speech even with their lips. The people that we watch on television appear to be speaking when we know that the sound is coming from the speakers at the side of the box.

Sound and vision never come from the same place, but we get used to thinking that they do, and the scumble that links the two together, that overcomes the contradiction of a picture that is attached to words, is paramount in the production of self.

Japanese boys watch their superheroes mime speech. They know that, on the one hand, their heroes are not speaking. All the people at the show, everyone knows that Ultraman is dumb, that the emperor has no clothes. But the little boys also know that everyone loves and admires the superheroes and that everyone assumes that the superheroes are speaking. They learn that if they take up the mime too, then no one will out them, no one will ever say "Hey, you are only miming." Superheroes and humans mime speech. It is important that they do so.

But why the bug eyes? For me the bug-eyes of Japanese superheroes are seen but unseeing eyes. Their eyes are massive. Sometimes the Japanese superhero's face is all eye. But they have no pupils, no in-eye movement to suggest that they see. Their massive eyes emphasise their visuality, but with their lack of inner eye detail, it is though they can not see at all. These eyes are, I suggest, the eyes that stare at us from out of the mirror. Our eyes as reflected mirrors fascinate us, they draw our gaze, we attempt even to look into them, but we know that they are sightless.

As I have argued elsewhere, the Japanese are permanently in "the mirror stage" in that, by virtue of their training in and ability to take multiple visual perspectives upon themselves, they continue to identify with self as reflected. Growing up in an world of uninterrupted and loving gazes, mirror identification presents little problem for the Japanese. But in order to developed a self they must also integrate the voice, attach those vocal symbols to this reflection, and hence all this heroic speech-miming.



Addendum. Something similar should be going on in the West: there should be some attempt to link phoneme and imago being made. But in the West it is the identification with speech that is less fraught. Someone admirable and heroic should be 'speaking mime' rather than miming speech. Please see this post for an example of a Western hero It has puzzled me for a long time why so many Japanese superheroes (Ultraman, Kamen Riders, Voltron or Golion, Go-Onger, Gao-ranger, you name ‘em) have bug-eyes, unmoving mouths, or no mouth at all and have a strong connection with mime.

I now have a theory about the connection between Japanese superheroes and mime.

Japanese superheroes make many gestures (see image above), like mime artists. And more, in a sense they also speak. But their mouths are always immovable. Often they do not have mouths at all. And yet they do speak: They mime speech!

Typicaly, a group of young males and one female strike poses, press buttons, or contact someone in heaven on a magical mobile phone, and change ("hensin") into a team of superheroes wearing colour coded wetsuits. Why should then even need to change into a super hero suit? There is no secret made of their identity.

They then do stylised battle, reminiscent of badly choreographed pro-wrestling, with one or more wetsuited monsters, often with a conspicuously mobile jaw, in a car park.

As the superheroes fight they 'speak', or shout, encouraging each other. But where does their speech come from? Their mouths can not move, nor even open. They mime speech. They take out their magic mobile phones and put them to their motionless mouths. All eyes are focused toward the miming speaker.

In the mimicry of speech they are much like masked performers in the Noh Play. The body language of the players mimes speech to perfection, but the face does not move at all.

Nowhere is the mime aspect of Japanese superheroism more apparent than in the shows performed for children at Japanese festivals. Performers in bug-eye, multi-coloured mouthless wetsuits come on stage. Someone presses a button on a ghetto blaster, and off they go, miming their way through an ultra-man epic, never once saying a word, but all the while making it plain who is speaking.

The Japanese boys love it. They imitate the gestures, like the Ultraman laser beam pose above.

So why is miming speech so important?

According to Lacan the human self exists by virtue of two incomplete feedback loops: those provided by voice (or phonetic language) and vision.

We can look at ourselves in the mirror, but we can never see the minds eye. We can speak ourselves, but Lacan argues, the enunciated "I am" of my self speech, never quite coheres with the self that would be saying it.

However, with two ways back, two feedback paths, to the self, we play a shell game, or two card monte, always satisfied that when the word does not hit the mark, we can see ourselves in a mirror. And when the mirror seems empty, we can call ourselves by name.

The problem remains however, in convincing ourselves that our speech comes from the same place as our mouth. But we get used to it. Get used to thinking that sound and vision come from the same place. E.g. The people that we watch on television appear to be speaking the sounds, even though we know, if we think about it, that the sound is coming from the speakers at the side of the box.

Sound and vision never come from the same place, but we get used to thinking that they do, and the scumble that links the two together, that overcomes the contradiction of a picture that is attached to words, is paramount in the production of self.

Japanese boys watch their superheroes mime speech. They know that on the one hand their heroes are not speaking. All the people at the show, everyone knows that Ultraman is dumb, that emperor has no clothes. But the little boys also know that everyone loves the superheroes and assumes that the superheroes are speaking. They learn that if they take up the mime too, then no one will 'out them', no one will ever say "Hey, you are only miming." Superheroes and humans mime speech. It is important that they do so, and get away with it.

But why the bug eyes? For me, the bug-eyes of Japanese superheroes are seen but unseeing eyes. Their eyes are massive. Sometimes the Japanese superheroes face is all eye (Kamen rider Faizu/555). But they have no pupils, no in-eye movement to suggest that they see. Their massive eyes emphasise their visuality, but with their lack of inner eye detail, it is though they can not see at all. These eyes are, I suggest, the eyes that stare at us from out of the mirror. Our eyes as reflected mirrors fascinate us, they draw our gaze, we attempt even to look into them, but we know that they are sightless.

As I have argued elsewhere, the Japanese are permanently in "the mirror stage" in that, by virtue of their training in and ability to take multiple visual perspectives upon themselves, they continue to identify with self as reflected. Growing up in an world of uninterrupted and loving gazes, mirror identification presents little problem for the Japanese. But in order to develope a self they must also integrate the voice, attach those vocal symbols to this reflection, and hence all this heroic speech-miming.

Something similar should be going on in the West: there should be some attempt to link phoneme and imago being made. But in the West it is the identification with speech that is less fraught. So someone Western, admirable, and heroic should be 'speaking mime' rather than miming speech. I guess that this has something to do with the secret identities of Western Superheros, but for the time being, I don't know what "speaking mime" is.

Addendum. please see the next photo in my photostream. I think that "speaking mime" (the Western equivalent to the mimed speech we see Japanese superheros perform) is all the thought bubbles that we are able to see in Western superhero comics, and all the "hard boiled," coming-from-no-where, narrative that accompanies Western detective movies especially.　In the West, the narrative pervades, it is the centre, the truth of the secret identityspeaking his mime

I think, therefore I am Batman.

PPS: Just after writing this I saw the trailer for Avatar, where a super-hero kinda guy controls an "Avatar" by remote control and feel like I am chanelling James Cameron.

Labels: Bandai, Bokenger, bug-eye, culture, eye, Gao-Ranger, go-onger, japan, japanese culture, Jaques Lacan, mime, nihonbunka, Super-Sentai, superhero, ultraman, 日本文化

Our son made his toy trucks "Gattai", or coalesce, coallide, combine, link, merge, or bond in the fashion above.

"Gattai!" the Japanese word for "coalescence", or "merge!" is a common refrain in a number of cartoons/anime for 3 to 7 year old, predominantly male, Japanese children.

Usually, the heroes, or cars, whatever, meet a foe that is too strong for anyone of them to beat, so they shout "Gattai!" and merge together to form a super-unity to vanquish that foe.

My son is into the Tomika Heroes anime called "Rescue Fire," (previously Rescue Force?) in which usually 3 members of a team board vehicles that link together to form one larger, super, powerful vehicle. In fact their cars are stored in trucks, and it is the trucks that then merge to form the Rescue Fire Dragon, I think. There is a detailed article about the series on wikipedia. It seems that the enemy "gattai" too.

The "gattai" phenomina is not limited to this series. In many many children's anime over the years, cars and other vehicles, or even animals I think, link together to form a super unity, a robot, or super-life form. Teams of superheroes merge to form one body, with a clarion call of "Gattai!" In all cases, it really gets the viewers going. Ray's eyes light up, in an extasy of gattai-ing. What is going on?

There is the theory that this is something to do with sex. The trucks look a bit like they are at it, a la canine.

Can a prepubescent realisation of the physical nature of the libido be the root cause of the fascination with "Gattai!"? Is the fascination purely "libidinal"?

I don't think so.

For one thing, in many of these anime the merging beings are often of the same sex. I don't think that the viewers are gay, nor do I think that they are unaware of the sexual (i.e. male-female) nature of much sex. This is not sex. My son is (I am not bragging) one hundred percent hetrosexual, even at three. He has girlfriends. He finds girls attractive.

But the refrain of "Gattai" in this genre of cartoon/anime often or usually occurs when more than one male entity merges.

To cut a long story short, I wonder whether this joyful occurence represents the solidification, or merging of the parts of the self. I am not sure what these parts are. But it seems to me that the self is multi-parted. The games that these youngesters are playing may represent their glee, their desire for and achievement of coalescence. There may still be a libidinal element, but I think that the coalescence is intra-psychic.

That is just a guess. The "Gattai" phenomena is a myth of our times. It is profound.

Do American cartoon characters Gattai?

Labels: Bandai, Bokenger, culture, Gao-Ranger, henshin, japan, japanese culture, nihonbunka, Super-Sentai, superhero, 日本文化