Late last year, this particular post on Insanejournal attracted an insane amount of attention from the Katekyo Hitman Reborn! fandom, and, in my opinion, for good reason. I participated in the argument, taking what was apparently a very unpopular stance with regard to my take on her series.

My original post, fandom rant and vitriol included, is still up for public viewing on LJ, for the curious. Now that I’ve let that sit for a year, however, let’s go into some of the more valuable points we can lift from all of my extreme (but justified) angy, since I firmly believe that I had a very valid message to deliver, both to casual readers and members of fandom.

The original argument of the blogger that I linked can be summarized in the following points:

1. KHR (that is, Reborn!) is a bad series because it underrates their girl characters. All they do are domestic, boring things that basically affirm chauvinism over feminism and female empowerment.
2. What is with shonen series and their degrading, narrow-minded portrayal of women? It’s so tasteless.
3. Fanon is the only thing that can save the female characters in Reborn.

In my counterargument, I decided to ignore the third point. My basis for doing so is that I feel that there IS no argument to be had, because there is no real basis for making such a claim. I did, however, present two basic arguments: contextualizing Japanese anime and manga within its proper space, and the concept of an original audience and its relations to how one should read a work from another country.

Contextualizing Japanese anime and manga within its proper space.

Remember all of that stuff that your teachers have taught you about the universality of literature and how we can always bring a bit of ourselves into our reading of a work, regardless of where it came from and who it was written for?

Well, throw it out the window. The hard truth of the matter is that we need to understand that all works of literature arise from a particular socio-cultural CONTEXT, written at a particular time for a particular AUDIENCE. The cultural values of a whole country are embodied, to some degree and in some fashion, within the work of an author from that country – see, writers cannot help but bring where they come from into their work, and their writing either affirms or deconstructs these values that they have embodied. Then and ONLY THEN, in the intersection between where the work is coming from and we’re we’re coming from, can we glean some sort of common experience. Similarity in difference, difference in similarity. That sort of thing.

What does this mean to us? This means that all literary works are agents in the transmission of their home culture. They reflect what their country values or does not value in terms of social practices and other things.

What does this mean for us as readers? This means that we must be AWARE of cultural differences BEFORE we have any violent reactions or misinterpretations of what a text is trying to tell us about certain things. Hence, before one attempts to evaluate a literary work, she must be aware that her values may not be their values, and the people from the country in which the work originated from will read what she sees differently.

It is entirely possible, of course, to read a literary work as it is, and not be burdened by the responsibility of cultural awareness – that is, after all, what most casual readers intend to do. I believe, however, that an awareness of context ultimately makes for more intelligent and enjoyable reading. Of course, that is my opinion; if it does nothing but spoil the fun for you, don’t bother.

The only time I’m going to have an issue with you (and I’m sure that I’m not the only one), is when criticism is attempted, and the viewpoint from which it arises from is terribly misiniformed or myopic. That is doing a disservice, I believe, to the actual creative significance of the work in question. It may also be viewed in a very arrogant light, as though some literary works or theoretical frameworks are better than others by sheer merit of their being from a particular country. In most cases, for their being “white”.

In the author’s original argument, she seemed to make a hasty generalization regarding shonen works – she appears to assume that such series display a tendency towards underrating their female characters. Although she may not have said it directly, her tone seems to imply that this treatment is tasteless and anti-feminist.

Let’s go back to my point. Her assumption of it being “anti-feminist” is based on a Western and thus very different model of feminism that may be espoused or applied to Japanese culture, and to Japanese shonen manga, in particular. It is wrong and totally unfair of her to judge a piece using her own cultural standards.

The exact differences between the Western critical practice of feminism and the Japanese critical practice of feminism deserve its own post, hopefully in the future.

The concept of an original audience and its relations to how one should read a work.

I’ve already stressed the point on the un-universality of literature, and how an enriched and, if I may be so bold, “proper’ reading of a text would take a work’s cultural context into mind. This includes considering the fact that more often than not, foreign works are not written for you. They were written for the people that the author expected to have bought their story.

Katekyo Hitman Reborn! is serialized in Shounen Jump, which is a weekly boys’ comic magazine. It is therefore proper to assume that the comic was directed at pre-pubescent adolescents who probably don’t think very high of girls in general. They are not looking for a stellar, commendable portrayal of the opposite sex. They are looking for exploding things, blood, gore, kick-ass fight scenes and plot twists from the “hey, that really don’t make that much sense but it leaves room for more fighting so who the heck’s complaining right?” school of thought. They probably completely ignore the women portrayed in Reborn! unless they’re wearing school uniforms or skirts, in which case it would allow them to stare at their legs. Or if they’re getting pseudo-raped by illusory tentacles.

Let’s zoom out to Shounen Jump in general. Beyond everything, a weekly comic is a money-making venture, with carefully calculated demands on their mangaka based whatever their target audience happens to be. Basically, if the mangaka in question does not curb his or her ideal storyline to suit what her readers want, he or she will quickly find themselves out of a job.

It is unfair for us, I think, to look for things that shouldn’t even be in a work and judge it based on the absence of these factors. That’s like expecting an action movie to have a real plot or a children’s show to come up with the cure for cancer. You can’t really expect complete, all-encompassing intelligence in a manga meant for little boys (or dirty fangirls in it for the gay, but that’s a whole new matter altogether). If you wanted something like that, then you’re obviously looking in the wrong place for it.

There is also, once again, the issue of cultural differences to consider. I think I’ve effectively explained that point in my previous paragraphs.

Old readers will note that I omitted my third point – a treatise on the difference between reader responses and reader-oriented criticism – from this entry. This is because I feel that it is necessary to elaborate on the issues raised there in another post, and probably in relation to the issue of entitlement in fandom.

I also expressed a rather strong opinion, with regard to the author herself, based on the premise that a myopic vision towards literature makes for myopic writing. This, too, will have its own post in the future.

At the end of the day, critical discourse aside, fandom is an open and neutral space, one which we, as individual fans, contribute to or learn from. Whatever we give or take from fandom differs on an individual level, and that is, I feel, how it really ought to be at the end of the day. Nevertheless, having a more “informed” sense of awareness with regard to what you’re reading and where it’s coming from may ultimately aid one in enjoying the series, or at least understand why certain things are written the way they are.

1. Why do you write fanfic?

I don’t think there’s a good answer for this one, really. Saying that I “have” to is relative, because in essence, there are other things that I should probably be doing on the creative end of things. I’ve got a crapload of original projects, for one, and they’re almost always shoved into the background of things whenever I get caught up in real life things, or a new shiny something from the fandom end of the universe.

…Saying that I “want” to, though, isn’t quite right either. There are times when an idea hits me while I’m reading or watching something, and it’ll keep hovering around in my head screaming WRITE ME! until I get a line down, for better or for worse. It does become entirely disruptive on some occasions, but, more often than not, it turns out just fine, and the fact that people end up reading the work at the end of the day makes it even better.

Fanfic seems like a pointless exercise for a lot of people because most view it as a derivative work that won’t really get you anywhere, but on my end, I consider it valuable because it’s good practice – ANY writing, for me, is good practice. Another step to developing one’s style and such. That’s probably one reason why I keep doing it.

It’s also nice, quite frankly, to post something up and see that somehow, people are reading it and enjoying it.

2. When did you write your first fanfic and which fandom was it for?

Saber Rider. Keywords: mechanical-tentacle-almost-rape.

…I was young and innocent and I did not know what I was doing.

3. Which fandoms do you, or have you, written for?

Final Fantasy 7, Suikoden, Bleach, Full Metal Alchemist, DOGS, Gundam Seed, Kingdom Hearts, Oofuri, Persona 3, KHR, Metal Gear Solid, DtB, D.Grayman, FF10, FF12, Gintama, Soul Eater, XXXHOLiC, Harry Potter, Xenogears, Devil May Cry, Tales of the Abyss, Count Cain, Devil Summoner, Final Fantasy Tactics, Bounen no Xam’d, Tengen Toppa Gurren-Lagann, Black Lagoon, Eureka 7, Loveless, Gankutsuou, Tokyo Majin, FF9, Ghost Hunt, Magna Carta, Ouran, Prince of Tennis, Air Gear, Peacemaker, Sailor Moon, Gunslinger Girl, Code Geass, Kekkaishi, Star Ocean 3, House MD, Fruits Basket, MPD Psycho, Monster, Moyashimon, Toward the Terra, Kurenai, Wild Adapter, Odin Sphere, Hikaru no Go, One Piece, Seirei no Moribito.

That’s an incomplete list, I think.

4. Do you read much fanfic or do you mainly write?

Hard to say. I THINK I write more fanfic than I read fanfic, but that might only be in recent history.

5. What comes easiest for you when writing? (dialogue, descriptions, plot, characterizations, humour, angst…)

ANGST IS THE ONLY WAY.

…Okay no, that would probably be putting it crudely. I do enjoy conflict, some form of conflict. I also apparently have a penchant for milking out the full range of a characters’ emotions through subjecting them to a variety of experiences, good and bad.

On the level of craft, I THINK narrative and characterization come easiest to me. Dialogue and plot are second, maybe.

6. Which genres do you mainly write? (action, angst, dark, drama, horror, humour…)

…Do we have to talk about genres? I find those catagories too restricting and general. o_o

7. Which genres will you not write?

People have told me that I hardly ever write fluff or cracktastic stories, but I don’t know if there will ever be a “genre” that I will absolutely not go into.

8. Are reader comments/responses important?

For possible improvement? Yes, if the person responding can actually give me something to go on beyond “OMG IT’S GREAT” or “OMG U SUCK”.

For ego boosting? Extremely. I know that it’s not general practice for folks to leave a comment on fanfic, but I really love it whenever I get one. It’s visible proof that there ARE people reading, even if I don’t actually need it.

At the end of the day, though, I realize that regardless of what people say about me or my writing, I’m not going to STOP writing. I never started out on this thing for anyone beyond myself, after all.

9. Do you use a beta reader?

Not unless I’m required to, like in the case of KHR Undercover, or if I really feel like I’m not confident in what I’ve got.

I probably should, though. I make the most EMBARRASSING typos.

10. Which is your favourite character to write fanfic for and why?

…That is such a hard question. I have a favorite for every fandom that I’ve written for so far, and if anyone were to ask me about each one, I could go on and on.

People most familiar with the most recent fandoms that I’ve written for (namely, Gintama and KHR!), will note, though, that I write extensively for Takasugi Shinsuke (because eyepatch-tans are love), Bansai Kawakami (because music is his radar~) and Hibari Kyouya (because you can’t go wrong with biting people dead).

11. Which are your favourite ships (including friendships) that you write the most?

AAAAAAAAAH THAT IS EVEN MORE DIFFICULT JUST ASK ME IN PERSON.

12. Do you have characters that are so strongly established that they’re in your heads?

I used to, but these days, I tend to be very fluid with my personal interpretations.

13. Which characters are you most comfortable doing a POV for? Which is the hardest?

Contrary to popular belief, I have an incredibly hard time writing directly from Hibari’s perspective. I know I’ve ficced him a lot, but getting into his head is quite another thing altogether. u_u

Beyond that, I really can’t answer that question. I tend to write from a more “objective” point of view, and the difficulty or easiness of the work was always grounded in something outside of the character’s point of view, I think.

If the meme’s made you curious about reading my stuff, there’s a very messy archive of them over at Stitched Up on LJ. I’m in the process of making a much more organized archive, which will be pimped here as soon as I finish it.

About a year ago, I was holed up in the library over on campus, leafing through copies of the International Journal of Comic Art and articles from the Japanese Studies and Pop Culture end of the scholarly scene, shoring up resources to use in my paper about Katekyo Hitman Reborn! (shortened to Reborn! for the remainder of this article). All of my friends thought I was crazy, going out on a limb and attempting to do a formal – critical – study on one of the gayest, lulziest shonen manga around at the time, but what can I say? I was a fangirl, head-over-heels, truly-madly-deeply in love with the latest shiny thing blipping on her radar. I had already written a crapload of fanfics by then (and wrote a whole lot more afterward, if I’m to believe the dates on my archive), and it was time to take the passion a whole new step forward, not just by “going meta”, but by formalizing a critical viewpoint through which to regard the series itself.

At this point, interested parties can read the paper itself over here. To summarize, though, the paper seeks to explain why Reborn! is more susceptible to a homoerotic interpretation than other shonen manga serialized in Shonen Jump. Basically, it was a scholarly attempt at figuring out why the hell people think it’s so fucking gloriously gay.

(It was also a good excuse to bring my dojinshi to school and explain its critical value to literary scholars with a perfectly straight face.)

That’s not actually the point that I want to talk about in this blog entry, though. Instead, I want to explain why I’ve fallen out of love for the series, and for what I believe to be very critical reasons.

Let’s make a qualification here: I am grounding my argument based on a closed reading of the text and a reader-oriented framework with considerations towards what I, as a published writer and a fairly informed reader, believe to be matters of good craft and style. This basically means that I’m attempting to review Reborn! on the level of craft and good storytelling, most especially in the light of it being a Shonen Jump series, which carries with it its own set of expectations and conventions. It’s also an entirely personal view of the manga, grounded in my opinion, and therefore ultimately subjective.

That said, let’s proceed.

For readers who are familiar with the series, correct me if I’m wrong, but: didn’t you guys completely freak out in Chapter 136, when Tsuna ends up in the future, in a coffin with his name on it? If that wasn’t enough, there’s the next chapter to consider, with Gokudera Hayato’s future self popping up, latching on to Tsuna like he’s some sort of ghost, and explaining how the future’s been completely fucked up because the Millefiore have killed Tsuna’s future self.

Who can resist that faaaaaaace?

Let’s stop our fangirl hearts here and take a more critical look at the situation. What’s the dramatic situation here? While things have only started kicking off in this arc – henceforth referred to as the Ten Years Later, or TYL, Arc – I think that it’s safe to say that Tsuna has arrived in a future where he and his friends played the mafia game and lost. His future self, and the future selves of his friends, have, to put it bluntly, failed. Failed to succeed, failed to stay on top of things, failed to keep from losing that which is most precious to them.

Heartbreaking, right? Yet ultimately amazing. With this sort of set up, Reborn! pretty much stopped being your usual Shonen Jump manga. It stepped up, taking a darker, potentially more “mature” outlook on things while sticking to the purity of the tri-fold theme that Shonen Jump readers around the world are familiar with: that of Friendship, Perseverance and Victory. With this sort of premise, Tsuna and the other heroes of the story could go on to fight the biggest, most desperate fight of their lives, and win. They could be better than their future selves, and go back home smarter and stronger and ready to make a new tomorrow. That appeared to be the sort of premise that we were all working with, and there’s fanfiction, fanart, fan videos and meta all over the internet to prove it.

And then the Lulz happened.

Let’s start with Chapter 218, where we begin to learn that apparently, our heroes have been defeated and captured by Irie Shouichi, someone whom the Gokudera of the future originally viewed as an enemy. The end of that chapter and the next one reveal a “shocking truth”: that he’s actually NOT a villain, and has been working behind the scenes in order to take Byakuran down. He and the Hibari Kyouya of the future were apparently part of a Grand Master Plan, orchestrated by the Tsuna of the future, to put an end to the Millefiore by bringing in their younger selves to continue the fight.

Wait for it... wait for it...!

If that isn't deux ex machina, I do not know WHAT is anymore.

There was a general outcry with regard to this particular plot twist. Prior to that point, Shouichi was built up as some sort of embittered figure who had, for whatever reason, a grudge against the Vongola, one bad enough to have him ally with Byakuran and aid the latter in destroying them. We only really remember him for his chapter-long stint in the Daily Life Arc as the kid who walked away completely traumatized by his one encounter with Tsuna and his crazy mafia friends. Either way, it came off as poetic somehow, and showed, in a way, that Byakuran really did wield a frightening amount and power and influence, enough to turn potential allies or previously “weak” figures in Tsuna’s life into weapons to wield against the Vongola.

Beautiful possibility gone wrong? Maybe. Feelings in that department are mixed.

Attentions were diverted in the succeeding chapters by the reappearance of the Varia, which, beyond providing gratuitous fanservice, was highly refreshing, most especially for fans of that group. Lets look to Chapter 227 and 228 instead, where we have our standard Shonen Jump-level what-the-actual-fuck-it-ain’t-over reveal, as Byakuran makes an appearance. introducing the “real” Six Funeral Wreaths of the Millefiore.

Oh look: more faces & names to remember.

What should have been a very dramatic, action-packed build-up towards final battle is now a “oh, sorry, we’re not quite done yet” section of an already aggravatingly long arc, and possibly an excuse to extend the chapter life of the series, and throw in more pretty characters from everyone to oggle while the author’s at it. On the level of craft, I feel that this sort of twist ruins the immediacy present in the previous chapters, and derails whatever build-up that the author was going for.

Let’s skip over the whole new training section, and hit Chapter 240, which is the start of the next section of the TYL Arc. Tsuna and company – newly trained, and decked out in shiny mafia couture – gather at Namimori Shrine for the “Final Showdown” with Byakuran.

BUT WHERE IS THE MILLEFIORE oh wait

The mandatory spinny spinny black clouds of doom~~~

Suffice to say, Byakuran really knows how to make an entrance.

BYAKIPS IN THE SKY, WITH DIAMONDS!

Take a moment to process the sort of thoughts that come to mind at that image. My personal favorites are “JEEBUS” and “Mufasa”.

This, in my opinion, was the real beginning of the breakdown. Prior to this moment, Byakuran was, potentially, the most frightening villain that Tsuna has ever faced in the manga, and quite possibly one of the scariest villains in Shonen Jump history. We recall, with fondness, his encounter with Rokudo Mukuro in Chapter 169, and how he apparently defeated one of Tsuna’s strongest Guardians a frightening lack of effort. He was a smooth, smiley, scary motherfucker – or at least, he appeared to be. What appears to have happened on a fandom level is that Amano has provided fangirls a canonical excuse to ridicule the main villain of the current arc, in a crude attempt to level him against her main character.

On my end, I don’t see how this could function as leveling. In fact, I see it more as a direct insult to Tsuna’s character. Does he deserve to have a villain as lame as this? Where did all of the urgency and fear go? Where is the very real possibility of defeat, one that Tsuna will inevitably triumph over, with the help of his friends?

On a quick note, this is not the first time where Amano has “leveled” her own characters in this fashion throughout the TYL Arc. Yamamoto’s humiliating defeat via walling against Genkishi in Chapter 199 just to have Hibari’s future self step in and save the day is one. Gokudera’s less-than-stellar performance in the second Milliefiore showdown in Chapter 243 to serve as a comparison to the competence of Yamamoto and Tsuna or to highlight Kikyou’s formidability is another.

Genkishi’s backstory, as provided in Chapter 248, and the truth behind Shouichi’s motivation and Byakuran’s true nature, provided in Chapter 252 and Chapter 253, seem to be aimed at recovering a bit of the mystery and frightening potentiality of Byakuran’s power, but it does not appear to be enough.

The LAZER BEAMS!!!!111oneoneone really don't help either.

Furthermore, Chapter 253 reveals the now not-so-shocking truth behind Tsuna’s future self: that he is not, in fact, dead. He orchestrated everything in order to defeat Byakuran in the one parallel universe where they stood a chance, and his death was faked in order to divert the attentions of his enemies.

I'M NOT DEAD, JUST SLEEPING!

This plot twist, I feel, is beyond deus ex machina, and completely ruins the original premise that made the TYL Arc such an amazing read. While it does wonders for the fandom side of things and the majority of the series’ fans very happy, it’s pretty much the nail in the coffin when it comes to neatly tying up the series.

Let’s recall the premise that I was working with from the very beginning of the essay. The TYL Arc had great potential, in the sense that it appeared to be a fight of epic proportions, one in which Tsuna was not only going to protect his friends or the mafia game, but the whole world in the process. He was coming in from the past, arriving in a future where his older self failed, faced with impossible odds and the very real possibility of defeat. He was in the perfect position to rise to the challenge, to learn from the mistakes of the future and make a different, better tomorrow with the love and support of his friends.

By showing that Tsuna’s future self actually NEVER died and revealing that he had, in a way, planned everything seems to repaint the present selves of the heroes as people trapped into a situation that they cannot get out of. They’re merely spectators in a grand plan of which they can do very little about, and have no choice participating in if they plan on saving the world and coming home in time for dinner. Basically: they’re just around to make sure that someone ELSE’S plan works. It’s no longer about them fighting, persevering and winning – it’s about them just going along with the flow, since someone else has already sorted everything out for them. They just have to see it through. It feels, in my opinion, like a terrible reduction of Tsuna’s potential to grow as a character, and, beyond that, more pointless fanservice.

If we’re to take the average live span of Shonen Jump series into mind, Reborn! still has a good amount of time to pick things up. Given the pacing of the manga and the series of reveals that I’ve discussed in this blog entry, however, I am hard pressed to believe that this will happen.

I once believed that Amano’s real strength used to lie in her ability to balance out the need to please the fans to keep her ratings up alongside the personal vision that she has for her story… she proved it to me continuously, with the most stellar example being her reveal regarding Mukuro and Chrome’s connection with each other, which both catered to the male demographic of her audience and gave Chrome value as a character beyond simply being another Token Shonen Female. Her writing is not flawless (no writer’s writing is), but her plots seemed decently thought out, and geared towards paying tribute to her fans while keeping the integrity of her plot in mind. She appears to have lost that direction entirely in the TYL Arc, and I’m not entirely sure if she’ll be able to recover it.

Only time will tell in that department, though. As I said, we could still be in for a very, VERY long ride.

I’m proud to “launch” the Academic OTL section of this blog, which is my running (and permanently incomplete) body of academic work that I’ve done so far as a student and as a teacher immersed in the academe (or attempting to be, most days).

Seeing what’s listed here will give you a general idea of the sort of research work that I’m into doing, and might serve as a good look at what sort of thing you ought to expect from me in the future, on this blog.

All of the papers that I’ve done so far are already up in the section, and I’ve copied the whole body of the page in question to this post, for quick referencing. Enjoy?

Here is an incomplete body of works that I have “published” (meaning, submitted as part of my course work, but have NOT, unless indicated, actually published in any scholarly journal) during my undergraduate and graduate studies years. I say “incomplete” because I definitely will not be putting everything that I have done for publish consumption, for the simple reason that I doubt that anything I wrote prior to my fourth year of college was really worth looking at in terms of the general body of criticism and scholarly work that students like myself are expected to put out.

The main reason why I am putting up these papers is for personal reference, because I would like to be able to look back and assess what I have done at each turn. Another equally important reason is because I strongly believe that what I have written here may be able to help other people in my position (even if it may just be by means of showing them what NOT to do!), or may be of interest to folks with as strange tastes as mine.

Intimacy, Irony, Nostalgia & History: An Analysis of A.S. Byatt’s “Possession”

Written during my senior year, for a class that tackled a general overview of the development of fiction through the medium of the novel – it primarily applies textual analysis, with some references to outside resources in order to support a few of the points that I made in the paper.

Devil at the Door: The Devil Figure in John Milton’s “Paradise Lost” and Mike Carey’s “Lucifer”

My undergraduate thesis, which was a comparative analysis of the representation of the devil in two fictional works: John Milton’s epic poem, “Paradise Lost”, and Mike Carey’s comic series, “Lucifer”. I primarily applied textual analysis, with a framework grounded in narratology and semiotics.

That’s Way Gay: Negotiating Textual Gaps & Homoerotic Interpretation in Akira Amano’s “Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

My final paper submission in Literature 201, Research Methods, which is a core course for masteral students of Literary and Cultural Studies at Ateneo de Manila University like myself. Through the use of reader-oriented criticism, I attempted to explain what it is in the text of the manga Reborn! that causes the majority of its readers, mostly female, to perceive the text as homoerotic, and to respond through the creation of homoerotic fanworks, with fanfiction and dojinshi being the major examples I used in my paper.

I hope to expand and improve upon the study that I started in this paper, and, with luck, submit it to a scholarly journal in the future.

Nostalgia and Self-loathing: Tracing Japanese Aestheticism and Sensibilities in Yukio Mishima’s “The Temple of the Golden Pavilion”

My final paper submission in Literature 251, The Development of Fiction, which is a core course for masteral students of Literary and Cultural Studies at Ateneo de Manila University like myself. Although this is more of a survey and and a simple analysis than anything else, it may be a good example of how to apply theory to a text while taking the cultural context of the work into consideration.

A Silent World: The Dystopic Vision in Chuck Palahniuk’s “Lullaby”

My final paper submission in Literature 291.13, Speculative Fiction, an elective that I decided to take up as part of my course work in the MA: Literary and Cultural Studies Program. It traces the dystopic vision perpetuated in Chuck Palahniuk’s novel, “Lullaby”, and heavily relies on textual analysis.

I will continue to add PDF versions of my papers to this list as I continue my work.

Let’s take a moment to illustrate my day when I was but a humble little beansprout.  I’d wake up to a nursery rhyme, walk to school humming the tune of Sesame Street’s opening theme, get picked up by my mother driving the Family Van, listen to anything from Frank Sinatra to the Bee Gees to the Beatles en-route to the schools where my brothers studied, then go home and follow my brothers into their rooms, where they were either playing Gin Blossoms, The Cure, R. Kelly, 2Pac, Ace of Base, Mariah Carey, Whitney Houston, Guns N’ Roses, Bon Jovi, Rage Against the Machine or Metallica, depending on their mood that day. Later in the evening, when I’d wander into my parents’ room and crawl between them under the sheets, I’d fall asleep to Mozart, or Beethoven, or Chopin.

I grew up surrounded by a wide variety of music, and absorbed it all like a sponge without ever being able to pin names or genres to whatever I was listening to. I only started “rediscovering” bands between the ages of twelve and fourteen, and Nine Inch Nails was one of them.

An important step in my writing process is tracking down songs that I can use as part of the “soundtrack” of whatever story that I happen to be working on at the moment – if I can’t come up with a soundtrack, then a playlist of suitable tunes was usually enough. During that time, I was highly inspired by the works of CLAMP, with the manga X standing at the top of the list – I followed the manga like a little zealot, and, beyond reading the fanfiction, I went out of my way to download official art and Winamp Skins. One of my favorite fan sites for X had winamp skins named for songs by Nine Inch Nails.

That was the first nail in my coffin. The second came in the form of the original soundtrack of the movie, The Crow, whose tracks I suddenly remembered listening to back in Canada as I sat up in the playroom, watching my brothers play World of Darkness and failing to understand a single thing beyond the fact that the music was downright amazing.

Growing older meant getting smarter, which either meant more money to blow on CDs of my favorite bands OR the means to listen to the music online. As my music collection grew, so did the number of ideas I came up with for my stories – you might even be able to say that while some writers can name authors who influenced them to write the way they do, there was a time when I could sooner name bands whose music made me able to write the way I do. Crazy, but true.

So what does all of this have to do with Nine Inch Nails? Simple: NiN pretty much defined the style that I use now, right alongside Muse, System of a Down, the Cure, Tori Amos, Stone Temple Pilots, Placebo, Smashing Pumpkins, Massive Attack, Sneaker Pimps, A Perfect Circle and Rob Zombie. To say that I owe Nine Inch Nails pretty much everything would be a gross understatement, and, given the fact that I live in the Philippines and barely ANYBODY ever does concerts in the Philippines now, I was perfectly content with worshipping them from a distance.

Then Nine Inch Nails comes to Manila, and I got to watch them yesterday for two glorious hours with absolutely no breaks, and it was perfect. It was blindingly awesome. It was awesomely blinding. And the way they played… it’s the kind of music that’s so loud and so intense that it jars you right down to your bones and hits you straight at the heart, and in your gut. Everyone was getting into it, and with every sweep of the lights over the Araneta Colosieum, you could see the place filling up with more people, more waving hands and bobbing heads and jamming people just feeling the music.

Every single song they played, I’ve used in this or that playlist. Every single song I heard that evening, renditioned for Maximum Aural Pleasure, I had put on loop at one point or another in my writing life thus far, in order to let the lyrics speak and the images take hold. I’ve written death, sex, war, apathy, insanity, beauty and cruelty to the tune of those guitars, that piano. I’ve brought my characters alive to the sound of Trent Reznor’s voice.

Real life’s caught up with me, and when I’m not being a good citizen, I’m usually hitting up folks on the RP circles I travel with down in the Livejournal end of the Internet these days. Seeing Nine Inch Nails, however, brought me right back to the night when, at fourteen, I switched The Crow soundtrack on and felt my heart rise along with the guitar rifts of “Dead Souls”. Seeing Nine Inch Nails reminded me that I’ve written a heck lot, and there’s still so much more to go.

Thanks for everything, Trent Reznor. Someday, if I ever become rich and famous, I’ll hit you up and tell you all about how it’d be totally sweet if I used your stuff for the movie renditions of my stories.

As the years have gone by, the topic of the martial law regime has come and gone, and it often surfaces when I or my siblings least expect it. Still, we do look forward to the times that our parents or our older relatives tell us about what happened back then – we’re all history fags in the family, so anything about the past, most especially a yesterday that has to do with us somehow, comes up. At the end of the day, though, we’ve always been two to three steps removed from the whole business… you may even say that there were times when all the pressure of having the hopes and dreams of the people who made the revolution possible loaded on our shoulders annoyed us. It did not help that our family migrated to Canada barely a year after my birth, and us kids therefore had no experience whatsoever of all the events that happened AFTER Marcos was removed from power. No experience of what happened, and what was SUPPOSED to happen but did not.

It’s been said before, but let me say it again: Corazon Aquino was NOT perfect. She made mistakes just like any other president, like any other person. It would not do, I think, to put her up on a pedestal that none of us can ever reach and worship like there’s no tomorrow, thinking she did no wrong, that she’s as good as a saint. Instead of feeling sad that she wasn’t perfect, though, I think that we ought to acknowledge how <i>human</i> she was, and how she showed us exactly how, as human beings, we can <i>surpass</i> our own limitations and become something close to perfect, in our own way, as individuals moving down our respective paths. As people touching other people, with whatever we’ve got.

A friend of mine has said that Mrs. Aquino is the one person whom all of us can agree on who exactly she was. Another friend of mine said that we mourn for <i>her</i>, as a person – no more, no less. I agree on both counts.

I did not watch the funeral, nor did I physically pay my respects. Beyond the small lecture I gave to my freshmen students in order to help them get a better bearing on just how important this woman was to our country, this is all I can offer.

Here’s to a woman I might not have ever met nor completely understand, but at least see as someone whom we all ought to remember, for what she’s done for us as a people.

Here’s to Corazon Aquino.

The Five Stages of Grief, As Applied to Bibliophiles

It’s the hard truth that we’re faced with every time we enter a book store, when we swap notes on authors loved or hated, or when we find ourselves talking about our latest reads with our friends:

We will never be able to read all the good books in the world.

Now some of you must be wondering at this point if this article even applies to you. Let’s check, shall we?

When one reads the word ‘bibliophile’, one gets images of a dusty-looking scholar type with her glasses pushed far up on the bridge of her nose and her eyes zipping left to right then left again with a speed that’s bound to make you dizzy if you watch her for too long. Her nose, I might add, is quite liberally buried in the book on her hands, and she’s probably holding that thing the same way your mother held you when you were a baby (read: with Extra Tender Loving Care).

Attempt to talk to her while she’s in the Zone, and you’ll get a noncommittal grunt. Attempt to take her book from her, and you’re likely to lose a limb. Whether you’ll really lose a limb or if that’s just a figure of speech for whatever she’ll do to you for trying to steal her baby varies on an individual level.

If you’re reading this and you’re a guy, take a look at that passage again. Substitute all ‘her’ with ‘him’ and ‘she’ with ‘he’. Return to this sentence when you’re done.

You must be telling yourself that that girl (or boy) is definitely not you. If it IS you, even in the mildest form, though, keep reading. If you’re not sure whether it’s you but you have some strange habits involving books and reading that you don’t prefer to talk about in polite company (i.e. hiding books that you want to buy in a different shelf so that you can get back to it later, rubbing book covers to check if they rub you back, feeling things akin to possessiveness and self-entitlement when someone you hate happens to read an author or a work that you love), then keep reading.

So we’ve established the fact that We Will Never Be Able to Read All the Good Books in the World. How, then, can bibliophiles of all levels of weirdness, deal with our pain? I say that we do it by seeking to understand our behavior through the Five Stages of Grief, first devised by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross.

Denial. “That can’t be right,” we tell ourselves. “Of course I’ll be able to read everything that I want to. Good books are hard to come by, and I’ve got the time. There’s ALWAYS time.”

I call it “staving off the pain”.

Anger. On the other hand, we can simply refuse to accept the Hard Truth, and work ourselves up into frenzy through speed-reading, book-hoarding and other similar activities – at this point, I recall the months I spent over the summer, attempting to finish a novel every day in the hopes that I can at least tell my friends that I’ve read my collection, and my collection is, of course, comprised of ‘good works’.

I didn’t get very far with that: real life sort of got in the way. Anger, at that point, went from anger at the Hard Truth to anger at myself, and then I got tired of being angry because that left less time for me to read.

Bargaining. “Even if don’t read every good book I’ll read everything by Stephen King/Diana Wynne Jones/Leo Tolstoy!” This is where things get interesting. Bargaining, in my experience, often goes hand-in-hand with anger in the sense that we bibliophiles start drawing up devious schemes and master plans in order to triumph over the Hard Truth. We give up other hobbies to buy us time, we train ourselves to read faster, we play around with our definition of ‘good’ (see “Denial”)

Bargaining is “staving off the pain”, only funnier. For other people.

Depression. The weight of the Hard Truth bears down on us, and rather than attempt to rectify or deal with the hopeless situation we simply crumble underneath it. When one is in this stage, one usually turns to other hobbies, often spawning a large amount of internal conflict simply because a bibliophile can be so distant from what he or she loves no matter how much it hurts them.

Depression, I believe, is a fancier word for ‘emo’ in this case.

Acceptance. …And after ranting and railing and bitching and moaning, one finally comes to accept one’s situation. The proper preparations are done, some sacrifices are made, but overall, all is well.

These stages are actually interchangeable, and from the looks of it, we never really break out of the cycle – this isn’t surprising, given the fact that there will always be more authors to read, more works to talk about and more book stores to get ourselves lost in. The Hard Truth is something beyond our control, and in that sense, it is a tragedy that the Kübler-Ross Model is applicable to.

Now that we’ve broken things down, it should be easier for us bibliophiles to deal with it and move on with your lives, though, right?

(See ‘Denial’.)

You’re Not Alone

I entered my senior year of college knowing exactly what I wanted to write my thesis on: I was a huge fan of the Lucifer comic series by Mike Carey, and I wanted to analyze his very unique portrayal of the Devil. I doubt I’ll ever forget the sort of reactions people had whenever I would tell them what my topic was. If they weren’t asking me if I was a Satanist, they were raising their eyebrows, asking things like “Why are you studying a comic?” or “Does it even matter to study that at all?” Many of my teachers, in fact, remained skeptical about my topic until I explained to them that my thesis would be comparing the Devil in the Lucifer comics and to the Devil in John Milton’s Paradise Lost. Apparently, including a so-called canonical work in my study made my work legitimate – studying the comic alone was not enough.

How many of us have encountered this sort of problem in the past? Sometimes, our Literature teachers in high school and in college ask us for research papers – they tells us that we can write about whatever we want. However, when we decide to study about popular culture, alternative mediums (i.e. comic books or video games), contemporary works of fiction or genres like science fiction or fantasy, we are often told that these things are not relevant enough as compared to the classics or more “canonical” works and genres.

Let me make a confession: I took up a degree in Literature with barely any exposure to the classics. I grew up reading things like Dragonlance and Battletech, flipping through Warhammer and Dungeons & Dragons manuals, or watching Robotech on cable television. My idea of “good lit” either involved epic wars in other realms or ships hurtling through the empty void of space (accented, of course, with a healthy dose of installments from Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys or the Babysitter’s Club). I also read a dash of Stephen King, a bit of Anne Rice, and a whole lot of comic books. It took me a while to get rid of my allergy towards the classics, and learn how to appreciate them for what they are: works that are a part of a long tradition, and markers through which we can measure how far we’ve gone in the realms of thought, fiction, and thoughts about fiction vis-à-vis reality.

Of course, this did not lessen my love for pop culture and non-traditional works. In fact, I think it was because I had a foot in both worlds that I was able to better appreciate… well, everything! Knowing older works of fiction helped me see more recent works in a different light, and how they were constantly reworking ideas that were used in the classics. Overall, reading classical works seems to have provided me a new way through which I can appreciate the more contemporary stories that I’m used to because I can see something like their “history” in the works that came before them.

Why am I saying these things? I think I’m talking about this because literature students who are enthusiastic about popular culture should not be afraid to study what they want. Classical works, canonical works and works that don’t belong to either of those categories all deserve to be studied equally because all of them have a particular merit. We read because we want to know something or experience something: we do a lot of things for those same reasons. When people find something that allows them to do this, they tend to continue referring back to that something, whether it’s a story, a song, a painting or a video game. When any one of these clearly has a great effect on a number of people, than it’s more than worthy of being studied.

Another thing to remember is that everything has a history – I think I hinted at this when I mentioned how older works of fiction are oftentimes the basis for some of the more contemporary works that we read to day. Did you guys know, for example, that many contemporary horror fictionists like Stephen King and Anne Rice were greatly influenced by the works of H.P. Lovecraft? It’s strange how nearly everybody knows who King and Rice are, yet very few know who Lovecraft is. This is just one way in which you can make your research more interesting or “relevant” to the general audience, to borrow the words of our teachers: there is always a tie up between the classical and the modern. It’s just a matter of finding it.

Finally, the most important thing to remember is that you’re definitely not alone: you’re not the only one who wants to read about comics, or video games, or fanfiction, or whatever strikes your fancy. These days, scholars are trying to pay more attention to what’s happening now rather than what happened in the past, and their research can either greatly aid your own pursuits or serve as interesting reading material.

Don’t be intimidated by the idea that classical conventions are always better. Granted, they have survived the test of time, but in that same light, one can say that a lot of work will always be done on them due to their age. Works outside of the canon also deserve to be written about, and works that immediately affect us now must be examined also. Who knows? Maybe the fact that you’re calling attention to them will aid in their becoming classics for future generations.

The OTHER Murakami

“Don’t you mean HARUKI Murakami?”

“Oh! Is he related to HARUKI Murakami?”

Those are the usual reactions that I get whenever people ask me about Ryū Murakami, and I really wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t know who he is either. Interestingly, he and Haruki have a lot in common, and I’m not just talking about their last names.

Ryū Murakami – born Ryūnosuke Murakami – is a Japanese novelist and filmmaker, best known for his novels Almost Transparent Blue and Coin Locker Babies along with his film, a cult classic titled Audition. Almost Transparent Blue won the Atukagawa Prize, a prestigious semi-annual literary award in Japan, in 1976: it was noted for its dizzying, episodic (what some critics have, in fact, called “totally plot-less”) portrayal of  Japanese youth caught up in the sex, drugs and rock n’ roll of the period. A few others have called the work the Trainspotting of Japan, but I don’t think I’d be doing either work justice by making comparisons.

One thing to note about the writings of both Ryu Murakami and Haruki Murakami is that they are, indeed, products of their generation. I confess that I have only read two works from Ryu Murakami so far: Almost Transparent Blue, the work I’ve just mentioned, and In the Miso Soup, published in 1997. On the other hand, I’ve read two of Haruki Murakami’s novels (The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and Norwegian Wood) and The Elephant Vanishes, a compilation of his short stories. From what I have seen so far, however, both of them make a genuine attempt to talk about what life was like for the generations of Japanese youth that are still haunted by the effects of World War II on the country but unable to speak due to the restrictions that Japanese society as a whole place on them, especially when it comes to subjects that are popularly jugged as taboo. If you want to know what Japan was really like for the common people after the war, read both Murakamis.

These aren’t their only similarities, of course. Both Murakamis make gratuitous pop culture references in their works – this helps situate the context and setting of the work and it makes it easy for both their local and foreign audiences to connect to the characters at hand. Their notable attention to detail is also commendable: they have the propensity for putting the world under a microscope, and dissecting even the smallest realities for their readers. Finally, something that both of them, most especially Haruki, is known best for would be their beautiful portrayals of loneliness and intimacy.

Now that we’ve tackled their similarities, though, let’s look at what sets Ryu apart from Haruki. I just mentioned how both Murakamis put the world under a microscope. Haruki Murakami’s microscopic visions delve into the small, insignificant details that make the mundane look beautiful. Ryu Murakami, on the other hand, is beyond brutal with his method: he seems to deliberately focus on what would normally disgust us, searching for the beautiful in drug-induced orgies, friends puking in gutters together and squishing cockroaches amidst unwashed plates and rotten food. Ryu Murakami’s writing is edgier, with his style and wordplay matching the sort of literary brutality that comes with having a no-nonsense, no-such-thing-as-taboo attitude when it comes to subjects and descriptions that most other authors would avoid writing about like the plague. Most writers, for example, don’t bother mentioning the fact that their characters take bathroom breaks in the middle of all that action. For Ryu Murakami, it’s those very annoying bowel movements and the shakiness that comes with the need to piss that make us fully human.

A lot of literary works attempt to sanitize reality, to gloss over the little details in favor of highlighting the bigger picture. Haruki Murakami puts the bigger picture forward by reminding us of the unique color of dust motes in the sunlight, or the smell of freshly cut grass at the peak of summer. Ryu Murakami puts the bigger picture forward by focusing on the little details, especially if they make us squirm in our seats or want to turn our eyes away from the page.

Haruki Murakami’s works are extremely easy to procure, but I’m afraid to say that a bit of hunting is required if you’re interested in buying any of Ryu Murakami’s works locally. I have, however, sporadically spotted copies of his titles in Powerbooks, A Different Book Store and Fully Booked. When all else fails, though, customer service is always just a few steps away.

Sometime later, during my very first semester of teaching at Ateneo de Manila University, one of my students dug it up as an article she greatly liked. …I didn’t know whether to be happy, suspicious, creeped out, or any combination of the listed.

As strange as it sounds, one of the staple events during a family gathering in my household is showcasing the latest video game that I or one of my brothers is playing to our cousins, nieces, nephews, and whoever happens to be interested among our elders. Whether it was an epic role-playing game, a dungeon crawler or a first-person shooter, we were always required to show off to our guests in one form another, and the best way to do that was to play through a part with a cinematic scene while we remained on standby to tell people what was going on. This, beyond karaoke, took the place of a movie, and allowed our audience to move around as they pleased. It’s weird, but I suppose that’s what you get when you have a family full of children who found it more interesting to stay home for a session of Dungeons & Dragons with friends rather than play basketball.

Seriously, though, what is it about video games that have people like me and younger children hooked? Contrary to popular belief, it isn’t all about the graphics, or about the need to think about nothing and vegetate. In fact, video games these days are far from brainless… many of them are riddled with mind games, puzzles and trivia, while others require superior reflexes to proceed through the different levels. They are also far from being solitary activities, as anybody who’s familiar with the Nintendo Wii can testify to. Video games are interactive movies, and these days, they have become full-blown productions with cutting edge graphics, well-known actors voicing the main characters and renowned composers arranging the music. That aside, however, I think that with most video games, it’s the story that draws players in.

If it was a matter of communicating a good story, some might say, then why not just give all these kids books? While I’m not going to devalue the act of reading (I’d be a hypocrite if I did that!), I’m compelled to point out that video games in themselves have become novels with convincing plots and memorable characters. Their biggest strength, though, lies in their interactivity: the player becomes the character making the actions that drive the plot. Some video game titles even have multiple endings that are determined by whatever the player has been doing since the beginning. Sometimes, players can even “fully customize” their main character, choosing their strengths, their weaknesses, and even the woman (or man) that they will fall in love with in the end, if they choose to fall in love with anybody at all. To put it in literary terms, video games break the barrier between reader and character, turning them into a single person.

Sound familiar? That might be because video games are, in more ways than one, the digital version of those old Choose Your Own Adventure Books that many of us used to read in the past. Video games might even be better than these books in the sense that a player really has to go through the whole storytelling process: they can’t just cheat and flip through the pages to find out what happens, or how to get the “best” ending. Even a glance at the guides on sites like GameFAQs won’t save them from seeing the game through to the end. Granted, not all video games are “literary” and some of them are really built for quick fun, but the ones that promise to tell you a good story – or more like, have you play a part in a good story – will usually deliver.

If you’re a book lover and you’re still not convinced by this, snag the nearest available geek among your friends and have him or her tell you the story of his favorite RPG. I’m pretty sure that you won’t be disappointed.