The Case of Babymetal: Negotiating Authenticity and Diversity

Disclaimer: The contents and opinions of this blog post do not represent the views or values of Honours Review as a publication.

If you haven’t heard the name of this Japanese band by now, you have three albums to catch up on, the last one (Metal Galaxy) released less than a year ago. Formed in 2010 by three young women, Babymetal connects the worlds of Japanese pop (J-pop) and heavy metal, of ‘cuteness’ and aggression, of idol culture and its subversion; all within a genre they call kawaii metal [1]. Besides presenting a strikingly new, hybrid sound, the trio – currently duo- and the mixed reception of their work provide a potent ground of theorizing the negotiations of authenticity and diversity among metal fans today. With a few exceptions [1], however, it appears that the Western academia has not yet caught onto the case, despite the group’s global appeal confirmed by their World Tours and 2019 top position on Billboard’s Top Rock charts (as the first Asian group in history) [2]. While metal fanbases question whether Babymetal can be qualified as metal at all and whether it is “authentic”, we can in turn ask: what do such questions reveal about the “rockist ideology” [3] in its diversifying transition of the modern age?

“Rockism” has been described by Philip Auslander, a prolific performance studies scholar, as the rock-centric ideology defining authenticity in popular music. As described in his book Liveness, rock culture establishes its authenticity through dismissing or Othering the inauthentic “pop” products of the music industry: the music that does not tick the boxes of “instrumental virtuosity, original songwriting, social criticism, a stance of anger/alienation”, and primarily, of liveness embedded in the believable “spontaneity” of rock iconography. [3]

Although its aggressive guitars and rapid drums might sometimes make the instrumentals of Babymetal sound hardly distinguishable from its Western metal counterparts, the lyrics, performance, and background of the band prove questionable to anyone assessing them with the rockist lens. The elements criticized most frequently are Babymetal’s association with the (often exploitative) idol industry and produced mainstream popular music more broadly. A number of commenters on metal forums have claimed the band to be “mediocre, barely even. Total manufactured”, an “irritating cashgrab”, “overproduced, soulless modern crap” [4]; while others, including the metal vocalist Rob Zombie and KORN frontman Jonathan Davis, defended Babymetal (“They roll harder than you” [5]; “I thought I'd seen it all, but after I saw them, like, 'Wow! This is pretty intense.'” [6]). In the meantime, some hail the duo as “feminist role models” [7] (with lyrics that “engage with messages of positivity and self-empowerment – especially as they concern girls and young people more generally” [1]) and an opportunity for the positive racial-ethnic diversification of the genre. 

Bashed or supported, the discourse surrounding Babymetal encompasses the spectrum of old rockist ideologies of authenticity and today’s increased importance of representation. The questions posed towards the band reflect wider issues that the originally Western-male genres such as metal face in the times when diversity comes to the fore, and when elitist stances of the past are called into reconsideration. However, the discussion is more problematic and complex than what is has often been reduced to: namely, open-minded metal fans versus, in Rob Zombie’s blunt phrasing, “grumpy old f*cks” [5]. While it is certainly true that Babymetal’s image is empowering in terms of their alternative expressions of femininity and the ways they subvert the Western rockism with J-pop influences, the duo remains tied to the Sakura Gakuin idol group and the Amuse talent agency, produced entirely by Key ‘Kobametal’ Kobayashi, with the overwhelming majority of the lyrics and the music not written by the girls, who state clearly that they had no interest in metal prior to forming the band [8]. The concern of possible “inauthenticity” might hence intersect with or diminish the values of “diversity” and subversion. If the duo doesn’t write its own songs, how feminist are their lyrics really? If their artistic direction was determined mainly by capitalist commercial necessities, how non-conformist can it get- and how exploitative could it potentially be for the young girls involved? 

Similar questions are often posed in regards to the Western pop music industry, pointing to what Auslander and others called the romantic rock ideology becoming adapted to all popular music [3]. The distinction between art and commerce, apparent in the firm high/ low culture boundaries of the past, has not disappeared completely and continues to be based on whether the primary drive of the music creation is “art for art’s sake” or a function such as entertainment or sales [9]. The combination of a genre normally associated with rockist “authenticity”: metal with the openly produced, commercial J-pop idol culture is bound to spark controversy. However, the mass success Babymetal has been experiencing by far can prove that the discourses of rock/ metal authenticity in its traditional meaning, albeit still alive, are not essential to most (even Western) audiences anymore. Rockism has entered its transitional period, and arguably, nowadays it might be representation, empowerment, and subversion of conventions (in both sound and performance) that encourage listeners to value bands; whether they ‘write their own songs’ or not. 

References

[1] Plourde, Lorraine. “Babymetal and the Ambivalence of Cuteness.” International Journal of Cultural Studies, vol. 21, no. 3, May 2018, pp. 293–307.

[2] Rutherford, Kevin. “Babymetal Becomes First Asian Act to Rule Top Rock Albums Chart”. Billboard, October 2019. Retrieved from https://www.billboard.com/articles/business/chart-beat/8540112/babymetal-metal-galaxy-no-1-top-rock-albums. 

[3] Auslander, Philip. Liveness: Performance in a Mediatized Culture. Routledge, 1999. 

[4] Metal-fi. “BABYMETAL: Good, bad, or holy hell?”. Retrieved from http://www.metal-fi.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=7&t=434&sid=00661afb997adc299191e3079912a2a0.

[5] Brooks, Mike. “Only Grumpy Old Fucks Could Be Mad about J-Pop Metal Band Babymetal”. Dallas Observer, September 2019. Retrieved from https://www.dallasobserver.com/music/is-babymetal-the-future-of-heavy-metal-11764339.

[6] Blabbermouth. “KORN Frontman Says BABYMETAL Is 'Entertaining As Hell,' Calls Japanese Band's Critics 'Closed-Minded'”. Blabbermouth.net, August 2017. Retrieved from https://www.blabbermouth.net/news/korn-frontman-says-babymetal-is-entertaining-as-hell-calls-japanese-bands-critics-closed-minded/.

[7] Asencio, Jenny. “5 Rational Feminist Role Models in Pop Culture”. Medium, January 2018. Retrieved from https://medium.com/@jennyasencio/5-rational-feminist-role-models-in-pop-culture-74844b423cba.

[8] Robson, Daniel. “Babymetal: 'I've never been in a moshpit. I think I'd get smashed to bits'”. The Guardian, November 2014. Retrieved from https://www.theguardian.com/music/2014/nov/07/-sp-babymetal-interview-japanese-metal-pop.

[9] Frith, Simon. Performing Rites: On the Value of Popular Music. Harvard University Press, 1996.

Fragility, Pride, and Historical Legacies in Isao Takahata's "Grave of the Fireflies" (1988)

Disclaimer: The contents and opinions of this blog post do not represent the views or values of Honours Review as a publication.

Directed and produced by Isao Takahata, Grave of the Fireflies (1988) is an animated movie telling a story of war, grief, and tragedy. During an attack on their village two children, Seita and Setsuko lose their mother. Their father is a soldier in the Japanese army, currently fighting in the Second World War, so the children decide to temporarily stay with their aunt. However, as time passes, the aunt begins to treat Seita and Setsuko as if they are unwanted intruders in her household. As a result of their relative's attitude and lack of compassion, the children proceed to run away and move in an abandoned bunker which they try to transform into a home. As the story unfolds, it portrays Seita and Setsuko's experiences while dealing with post-war reality – hunger, illnesses, and loneliness.

Many analyses focus solely on the literal historical aspects of Takahata’s film, however, I believe that for a substantial reading of the story it is crucial to consider the symbolism incorporated into it. Multiple elements included in the movie carry figurative meanings that ought to be acknowledged in order to precisely grasp the essence of the movie. For the purposes of this text, I have selected three notably prominent motives: the notion of fragility, patriotism and historical legacies, and the motive of pride. Nevertheless, it is necessary to also include a disclaimer at this point in the text – this paper is written with complete awareness that the film features multiple more distinct themes that could potentially alter interpretations discussed in further parts of the text.

Fragility

The notion of fragility is one of the most pronounced themes present in Takahata’s Grave of the Fireflies, and the title itself is already a suggestion of possible interpretations and readings. As stated by Mario Vargas Llosa, “though we virtually take it for granted, the title (...) is often one of the first clues to the quality and direction of the reader’s conceptual involvement and properly should be considered integral to the frame of the work.”. Although in this statement Llosa is referring to titles of novels, I find it equally applicable in the field of film analysis. In the case of Takahata’s movie, overlooking the meaning of the title and its implications for the analysis would most likely result in degradation of the whole interpretation. To further explore this notion in a clear manner, it is vital to provide a brief explanation of the plot of fragments of Grave of the Fireflies. At the very beginning of the movie, two main characters are introduced. Seita and Setsuko, or rather their ghosts, come out of a can that is laying next to Seita’s body. They are accompanied by a swarm of fireflies. Multiple times throughout the movie, the fireflies are described as beautiful but fragile creatures; they are one of the very few beautiful things in Seita and Setsuko’s life which mostly consists of trying to escape the war and its consequences. Following this thought, as well as taking into consideration the plot of the whole movie, one can assume that the titular fireflies refer to the main characters and their struggles in Japan torn by war. Similarly to the insects, the children are fragile and cannot endure the difficulties that they have to face in their everyday fight for survival. They metaphorically light up with appropriate for their age optimism and hope for the future, and they try to fend for themselves; however, it does not last long, as the lifespan of a firefly is very short. Alike the literal light of a firefly, the figurative light glows in the children intensely yet briefly - the reality breaks Seita and Setsuko’s spirits and it weakens them physically. At some point in the movie, Setsuko asks her brother “Why do fireflies have to die so soon?” but her question is left without an answer.

Pride

Although it is not as prominently and obviously its component as the notion fragility, another important element in Grave of the Fireflies that is significant for a clear understanding of the movie is the concept of pride. This particular notion is present in various forms within the movie. First of all, pride is a sort of a catalyst for Seita to take care of his sister by himself after their mother died. Their father is in the army and Seita gets into an argument with a relative they stay with for a short time so the children end up homeless and on their own. As an older brother’s duty, Seita has to protect and take care of his little sister. He genuinely does his best to find shelter and get food for himself and Setsuko. In his efforts, he even starts stealing and he gets badly beaten up, though in front of his little sister he puts on a mask and convinces her that everything is fine. However, as time goes by and Seita does not succeed in providing food enough for both of them, Setsuko becomes malnourished and sick, and as a result, she passes away. As much as Seita tried to take care of his sister, it was his pride that firstly became the reason why they left their relative’s house. It was also pride that stopped the boy from getting real help when Setsuko got sick; instead, he claimed that as the older brother who should be able to look after his younger sibling he had the situation under control. Nevertheless, it is not clear if Seita really believed so, or it was only wishful thinking that he maintained as a coping mechanism to deal with the position the children were unable to escape.

Historical legacies

The ending scene of Grave of the Fireflies presents the third theme mentioned in the introduction which is the notion of historical legacies. Since the movie is inspired by real events that took place during the Second World War, the themes of patriotism, obligations to the state and to the society, fight for the common good, etc. are very present throughout the whole movie. However, for the sake of this article would like to focus on the ending sequence and its meaning in terms of the notion of historical legacies. In the last shot of the film, Seita and Setsuko’s ghosts can be seen peacefully sitting together on a bench on top of a hill. So far the story took place in what looked like a rather rural area of Japan - mostly small villages and fields. In this case, the setting seems to have changed quite profoundly. As Seita and Setsuko look down from the hill, the landscape on the other side appears in front of them. However, instead of seeing simple countryside scenery, it is a large city that emerges before the siblings. I find this particular scene especially relevant in the discussion about historical remembrance. The urban landscape rises on top of buildings destroyed by war, both literally and figuratively. It signifies the need to keep in mind the historical foundations that contemporary Japan is built on, but this message does not apply only to Japan. It can be seen as a suggestion for all viewers who grew up in countries that experienced military conflicts in the past to remember and respect the history of their countries because in many cases it was the ancestors’ fight for freedom, their resistance, and sacrifices that allowed for the construction of a stronger society. However, at the same time, it is also a reminder that many innocent people such as children like Setsuko and Seita lost their lives, which is undeniably a significant element of the notion of historical legacies.

Final thoughts

Being a depiction of a tragic story of two children trying to survive in a country torn by war, Isao Takahata’s Grave of the Fireflies is an example of a movie that portrays the notions of fragility, pride, and historical legacies as universal themes. Although this article offers multiple starting points for discussions regarding these topics, the three aforementioned motives are only some of many more possible perspectives that can be considered while interpreting this movie. I believe that it is crucial not only to take into account literal meanings of the symbolic elements incorporated in the movie, but also to consider their figurative, more universal significance of the components examined in this text.

References

1. Rossman, Charles, and Alan Friedman. Mario Vargas Llosa: A Collection of Critical Essays. University of Texas Press, 1978.

2. Takahata, Isao. Grave of the Fireflies. Studio Ghibli, 1988.

Additional materials:

1. Interview with Isao Takahata: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uRl0sjwx5Ac.

2. A short story by Akuyuki Nosaka: Nosaka, Akiyuki. "A Grave of Fireflies." Japan Quarterly 25.4 (1978): 445.

Jazz in the USSR: Freedom, Popular Culture, and ‘the Decadent West’

Still from Valery Todorovsky’s 2008 musical Stilyagi. Image source: http://popkult.org/hipsters/.

Disclaimer: The contents and opinions of this blog post do not represent the views or values of Honours Review as a publication.

Feeling a bit jazzy today? Not in the Communist Party of the Soviet Union. 

The USSR and jazz had a love-hate relationship ever since the country’s formation in the early 1920s. To give an example, during his fruitful career, Russian composer and pianist Dmitri Shostakovich wrote three ballets: The Golden Age, op. 22 (1929-30), The Bolt, op. 27 (1931), and The Bright Stream, op. 39 (1935). The Bolt follows the story of Lazy Lyonka, a worker in a Soviet factory, who, together with an anti-Soviet plotter, decides to sabotage the factory’s machinery by putting a bolt into it. Their plan, however, is quickly foiled by Komsomol, a political youth organization of the USSR. Soon after premiering on April 8, 1931, The Bolt was banned: Lyonka’s “languid waltz” and the ballet’s tango and jazz-inspired tunes were a bit too ‘Western’ for the Soviet cultural elites to handle (1). 

But what exactly was it about jazz that made its reputation so unfavorable in the eyes of the Soviet officials? There are a few reasons: from the Soviet Union’s official aesthetic doctrine, Socialist Realism, to jazz’s close association with freedom, underground Soviet pop-culture, and decadence. 

Socialist Realism: Narodnost, Partiinost, Ideinost!

Socialist Realism became the official aesthetic doctrine of the Soviet Union in 1932. Its emergence was detrimental to the Soviet artistic sector and its freedom of expression. The essence of Socialist Realism can be summed up in the following three principles: ideinost, narodnost, and partiinost (3). The first, ideinost, meant promoting socialism in artistic productions. Narodnost required works of art to represent the national character of the Soviet Union. Finally, partiinost demanded authors and their productions to express loyalty to the Communist Party (3). Apart from these three principles, works of art that were considered suitable for the popular masses had to celebrate the various cultures of the Soviet Union (and there were quite a few), “speak to the everyday life of the masses”, and inspire Soviet workers with optimism about ‘the bright future’ of the communist project (3). 

With these aesthetic requirements in action, little room was left for creative freedom and expression. Jazz, in particular, suffered from ideological oppression in the 1930s and the 1940s during the so-called “anti-cosmopolitanism” campaign. During this campaign, it was difficult, if not impossible, to talk about foreign influence on Soviet culture: “writers, artists, scholars, and scientists were attacked for any sign of foreign influences on their work or for studying ties between Russian and foreign cultural figures” (4). Amidst such a political and cultural climate, jazz-style pieces were seen by the authorities and the cultural elites as laden with foreign, American influence, and thus potentially harmful for the Soviet youth (5). 

The genre as a whole either remained at the margins of the Soviet artistic scene or went underground. Those who were really enthusiastic about jazz “adopted illegal methods to access the newest foreign jazz pieces and information on jazz” from other members of the jazz fan community or the black market (5). In a propaganda department report on Moscow youth in 1952, Komsomol complained that “vulgar western fox-trots and tangoes” are completely pushing out “beautiful Russian musical ball dances” from state-sponsored popular culture (5). Valery Todorovsky’s 2008 musical Stilyagi, which follows the development of the Soviet youth counter-culture of the same name, visually brings us into the midst of the dynamic atmosphere of the “anti-cosmopolitanism” campaign. It was only after Stalin’s death in 1953, de-Stalinization, and the lessening of top-down artistic oppression, that jazz experienced a revival, with grassroots club activities and youth cafés dedicated to jazz and its fans opening around Moscow and Saint Petersburg (5). 

“Jazz Means Freedom”

In the eyes of the Soviet officials, not only was jazz exposing the Soviet youth to influences of the West and could potentially inspire it to acquire a decadent, bourgeoise American lifestyle, but the expressive jazz and swing tunes could also motivate, they thought, jazz enthusiasts to rebel against the elites. 

In his acceptance speech for the Spingarn Award by NAACP in 1959, awarded for outstanding achievements  by an African American, Duke Ellington, American pianist, composer and leader of a jazz orchestra, when asked “why” American jazz “was so much in vogue in other countries”, replied, “I thought the reason was that jazz means freedom” (1). For the Soviet youth, especially, this freedom could mean freedom from communism or even “freedom from Moscow”, as was the case for the Baltic states where many considered jazz as sign of rebellion against ‘conservative Moscow’ (1). Jazz, in this sense, represented “both the freedom of expression and the spirit of rebellion against authority, that the Soviet youth so fervently sought to emulate” (1).

And Freedom Means Jazz

To wrap up, although the Soviet officials were never really happy with jazz even as early as Shostakovich started incorporating jazz tunes into his ballets, the genre provoked tremendous enthusiasm among generations of Soviet youths. For the elites, jazz symbolized the decadent, bourgeois West, while, in contrast, it allowed the Soviet youth to come in touch with the American cultural scene, and symbolically enjoy a degree of freedom. Even during the most intense period of top-down cultural oppression during the 1930s and the 1940s, jazz enthusiasts managed to get their hands on the latest records through more or less (il)legal ways. Their case demonstrates the energy with which the Soviet youth exercised its own freedom in the underground cultural scene and the various jazz clubs and cafés in Moscow and Saint Petersburg, despite the suffocating political atmosphere outside of their jazz-bubble. As such, we can slightly rephrase Ellington’s statement that “jazz means freedom” into “freedom means jazz”—for the Soviet youth, it created a space in which they can escape the monotonous Soviet reality, even if only for a little while. 

Sources: 

1. Davenport, Lisa E. Jazz Diplomacy: Promoting America in the Cold War Era. Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 2009. 

2. Ilichova, Marina. “Shostakovich’s Ballets.” The Cambridge Companion to Shostakovich. Eds. Pauline Fairclough and David Fanning. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008.

3. Kaganovsky, Lilya. “Stalinist Cinema 1928-1953.” The Russian Cinema Reader: Volume I, 1908 to the Stalin Era. Ed. Salys Rimgaila. Boston: Academic Studies Press, 2013. 208-234. 

4. Tolz, Vera. Russia: Inventing the Nation. New York: Oxford University Press, 2001. 

5. Tsipursky, Gleb. Socialist Fun: Youth, Consumption, and State-Sponsored Popular Culture in the Soviet Union, 1945-1970. University of Pittsburgh Press, 2016. .

Downloading Health from the App Store

Disclaimer: The contents and opinions of this blog post do not represent the views or values of Honours Review as a publication.

Between having ramen as dinner for the third day in a row and spending all-nighters unblinkingly focused on the glowing screen of a laptop, many students tend to overlook the importance of maintaining physical and mental health in their everyday lives. An increasingly popular solution to this issue is the use of mobile apps designed to help them form healthy habits, whether with a friend suggesting a useful healthy recipe app or a Top Universities article inviting you to check out the “Best Health & Safety Apps for Students” (1). In the light of this development, for better or worse concerning personal and public health efforts, could the future bring about a new spin on an old saying with “An app a day keeps the doctor away”?

A Customizable Path to Health

Reliance on technologies to master one’s body is explored in practice and presented to us in media as part of the flourishing Quantified Self movement, led by cyber-culture intellectuals Kevin Kelly and Wired editor Gary Wolf. With the goal of seeking “self-knowledge through numbers” (3), obtained from devices like Fitbit and apps like Lose It!, the movement embodies the idea that we should use the potential of the smartphone or tablet that has become a daily companion of Western student culture for more than just communication and entertainment. While calorie counting and comparing workout statistics might seem boring to some, the main appeal of such apps is their ability to gamify these number-based processes, applying game-design elements and principles in the non-game context of pursuing health (10). This can involve exercising to outrun virtual zombies in Zombies, Run! or being personified as an adorable animated plant that depends on you to stay properly hydrated throughout the day in Plant Nanny. The power of cute graphics and breaking down routines into fun, rewarding goals makes for a fascinating interplay of technology and psychology when it comes to managing personal health through apps.

Altogether, the key promise of a mobile health app is to replace the usual intermediaries – trainers, yoga teachers, dieticians – with technology that relies on your own willpower to pursue health (6). The shift from externally to internally driven formation of healthy habits can undeniably help with a range of obstacles faced by many: from lacking the money to consult a health expert or the time to physically visit the gym to having anxiety about making your weight loss efforts public due to a fear of being judged. However, this supposed freedom invites an issue of accountability; as recent studies reveal, most app users tend to lose motivation for logging information over time, deleting the app or neglecting it so that inconsistent user engagement brings no new health improvements (8, 2). Additionally, even considering dedicated mobile health app users, writer Adam Greenfield takes a skeptical view of Quantified Self movement to raise the issue of apps allowing their companies “to construct models of nominal behavior we’re all thereafter forced to comply with.” (3). Personal health data collected en masse, for example, from the Under Armour owned apps Endomondo and MyFitnessPal, is vulnerable to being exploited to promote conformity to specific lifestyles – advantageous to companies like Under Armour, which sell ways to make these lifestyles reality. These concerns should factor in when deciding which apps, if any, may be best suited for personalizing an individual road to health.

Sharing the Journey

Beyond the personal goal of self-improvement, which could just as well be achieved the old-fashioned way by tracking calories in a notebook or marking daily exercise in a calendar, mobile health apps offer the opportunity to seek health in a social, shared manner. The issue of self-motivation might thus have a solution: app users often feel more encouraged to develop their healthy habits if promised social rewards, available when competing against friends in virtual running challenges or exchanging healthy recipes. In moderate amounts, the pride found in showing the world that you are choosing health is a welcome and powerful drive to living a healthy life adapted to the digital age. Even if this pride is expressed through clichéd smoothie Instagram posts or shared Facebook articles about life-changing meditation routines, academics agree that this type of external and often eventually internalized motivation, especially when sought from family and friends, can highly increase app effectiveness (6). Besides, as mobile health apps continue to develop, users find opportunities to exercise their creativity, such as with GPS art that involves mapping your running or cycling routes to create line drawings when viewed on the map after exercising (9).

Of course, the idea of publicizing individual health journeys invites certain criticism as well, such as concerns about the potential to become obsessed with maintaining the public image of a “health nut” or feeling increased pressure to adapt to a socially conventional timeline of achieving goals. Combined with the proven risk of the science behind mental health apps in particular often being less than trustworthy (7), this means that the very apps meant to improve your health might become damaging instead if they are allowed to act – unchecked by critical thinking – as amplifiers of society’s health judgements and norms. While such liabilities are usually only realized in hindsight, when it comes to sharing health information with their apps, users themselves are most concerned with data security and privacy (5). Along with the familiar stories of data breaches and unsanctioned health data use for targeted advertising, mobile health apps present new dangers specific to the digital age. An illustrative example is the recent scandal of the fitness tracking app Strava, which accidentally revealed the location of clandestine U.S. army bases abroad when data about soldier exercise routes was released online (4). 

Conclusion

From personalizing a health journey to sharing the successes and failures with others, the nature of apps as shapers of physical and mental health holds unpredictable diversity. The apps’ core values of mobility and accessibility, perfect for maintaining and forming health habits, can also be their downfall when it comes to social conformity and data exploitation. Keeping in mind the harsh, but truthful claim that “Apps aren’t a substitute for willpower” (2), the future of mobile health apps remains reliant on the willingness of their users to accept that the final burden of sharing health data and remaining motivated lies with the humans, not the technology.  

References:

1. Abdi, A. (2017, October 7). Best Health & Safety Apps for Students. Top Universities. Retrieved from https://www.topuniversities.com/blog/best-health-safety-apps-students 

2. Chittal, N. (2019, January 2). Habit-tracking apps are the latest self-improvement trend. But do they work? Vox. Retrieved from https://www.vox.com/the-goods/2019/1/2/18158989/habit-tracking-apps-new-years-resolutions 

3. Greenfield, A. (2018). Radical Technologies: The design of everyday life. London and New York: Verso.

4. Hern, A. (2018, January 28). Fitness tracking app Strava gives away locations of secret US army bases. The Guardian. Retrieved from https://www.theguardian.com/world/2018/jan/28/fitness-tracking-app-gives-away-location-of-secret-us-army-bases 

5. Krebs, P., & Duncan, D. (2015). Health app use among us mobile phone owners: A national survey. Jmir Mhealth and Uhealth, 3(4), 101.

6. Kwon, M., Mun, K., Lee, J., McLeod, D., & D’Angelo, J. (2017). Is mobile health all peer pressure? The influence of mass media exposure on the motivation to use mobile health apps. Convergence: The International Journal of Research into New Media Technologies, 23(6), 565-586. 

7. Lipczynska, S. (2016). The health apps on your smart phone: Science or snake oil? Journal of Mental Health, 25(5), 385-386.

8. Serrano, K., Coa, K., Yu, M., Wolff-Hughes, D., & Atienza, A. (2017). Characterizing user engagement with health app data: A data mining approach. Translational Behavioral Medicine, 7(2), 277-285.

9. Strava artist draws pictures with his bike and GPS. (2016, February 19). BBC. Retrieved from http://www.bbc.co.uk/newsbeat/article/35612884/strava-artist-draws-pictures-with-his-bike-and-gps 

10. Zichermann, G., & Cunningham, C. (2011). Gamification by design: Implementing game mechanics in web and mobile apps. Sebastopol, CA: O'Reilly Media.

Bungo Stray Dogs: A Crash Course in World Literature

Disclaimer: The contents and opinions of this blog post do not represent the views or values of Honours Review as a publication.

All right, let’s say you’re an avid reader and love F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby (1925). Or maybe Fitzgerald isn’t really your thing, but you simply can’t get enough of E. A. Poe’s short stories.

Now, how would you react if Jay Gatsby suddenly started walking down the streets of Yokohama and, or wait, let me rephrase this. How would you react if Jay Gatsby suddenly started flying above the streets of Yokohama in Moby Dick with Herman Melville, E. A. Poe, and Mark Twain aboard, while H.P. Lovecraft is wading in the Tsurumi river below them, after having transformed into a giant, humanoid octopus?

Well, these are all pretty mainstream events in Bungo Stray Dogs. 

Cover of Bungo Stray Dogs volume two.

Bones studio’s Bungo Stray Dogs (lit. Literary Stray Dogs), a popular Japanese anime series which originally started airing in 2016, is making a big comeback with its third season this April (1). The otaku fandom is naturally excited; it has been almost a year since the series’ last movie adaptation, Bungo Stray Dogs: Dead Apple (2018), was released, and the adaptation, by introducing a bunch of new characters, excellent villains, and a fairly complex plot, only left us with much more questions than it answered. 

Bungo Stray Dogs is based on the supernatural action manga of the same name that follows a group of skilled agents gifted with supernatural powers which they use to solve mysteries, fight Yokohama’s underground mafia, and occasionally blast a building or two into the sky. 

But apart from the crowd that is regularly engaged with Japanese animation, Bungo Stray Dogs has a lot to offer to audiences that are not that well versed in Japanese anime and manga culture. Above all, it offers them a crash course in Japanese, American, and Russian literature. 

Written by Kafka Asagiri and illustrated by Sango Harukawa for Young Ace magazine in 2012 (1), Bungo Stray Dogs is probably best known for basing its characters on famous writers and their books, such as Osamu Dazai, Ryunosuke Akutagawa, E. A. Poe, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and F. M. Dostoevsky. While each Bungo character represents a particular writer, their supernatural power is in one way or another connected to that writer’s works. 

This way, for instance, Bungo Stray Dogs’ Osamu Dazai (all characters are actually called the same way as the writer they’re were based on), one of the series’ central figures, was inspired by the early 20th-century Japanese writer Osamu Dazai, author of The Setting Sun (1947) and No Longer Human (1948). The writer had a short but turbulent life: he lived during the two world wars, experienced a series of more or less serious diseases, wrote a number of novels and short stories whose popularity quickly turned him into a celebrity and attracted a secret admirer, regularly enjoyed way more sake than is advisable, and attempted to commit suicide several times until he finally succeeded in doing so in 1948, together with his wife Tomie Yamazaki. Inspired by these elements from Dazai’s life, Bungo’s Dazai is, as a result, constantly preying for a partner to commit a double suicide with, and his special ability, which allows him to cancel other ability-users’ power, is called “No Longer Human”, just like the ‘real-life’ Dazai’s famous novel.  

Similarly, one of the series’ main antagonists, the Port Mafia member Ryunosuke Akutagawa, is based on the Japanese writer Ryunosuke Akutagawa, “Father of the Japanese Short Story”, whose famous works include Rashomon (1915), Hell Screen (1918), and In A Grove (1922). Many of Akutagawa’s stories are characterized by their macabre character. Rashomon, for example, is a story about an encounter between  a servant and an old woman at the southern gate of Kyoto, where corpses were sometimes dumped. Hell Screen recounts the life of the painter Yoshihide who looses his mind in the process of creating a folding screen depicting the Buddhist hell. Akutagawa’s macabre aesthetic is also one of the main features of Bungo’s antagonist Akutagawa: the sickly, pale-skinned member of the mafia is always wearing dark clothes with a slight aristocratic touch and his ability, “Rashomon”, allows him to summon a phantom-like creature from his coat. 

The same character-modeling principle (i.e., developing characters based on famous writers and their works), applies to the American and the Russian part of Bungo’s character repertoire. Bungo’s F. Scott Fitzgerald, a young millionaire and leader of the North American organization called The Guild, parades through the streets of Yokohama together with his fellows H. P. Lovecraft and Nathaniel Hawthorne just as the ‘real-life’ Fitzgerald’s Gatsby probably paraded through the streets of New York City during the Roaring Twenties. The Russians, Ivan Goncharov and A. S. Pushkin, are grouped together in an underground secret organization called Rats in the House of the Dead (the name is a reference to F. M. Dostoevsky’s novel The House of the Dead (1862)), led by the mastermind Fyodor Dostoevsky, whose ability is none other than “Crime and Punishment”, inspired by the Russian writer’s famous work.  

All these different characters’ encounters on the streets of Yokohama, whose night scape is beautifully depicted in classically neon, cyberpunk tones, generate a unique atmosphere in which different cultures collide; E. A. Poe struggles to outwit his Japanese counterpart Edogawa Ranpo, while Herman Melville is gliding above them and the Yokohama skyline in Moby Dick, The Guild’s official aircraft (you can probably guess it’s in the shape of a whale). 

But besides letting you pick up a few names from Japanese, American, or Russian literature, Bungo Stray Dogs has few more things to offer. The dynamic between the various literary-inspired characters creates original (although sometimes a bit complex, and sometimes a bit dark) plot lines. For example, while the initial plot line largely centers on Nakajima Atsushi, who was kicked out of an orphanage and has no food and no place to go but suddenly runs into Osamu Dazai and his partner Kunikiada who are tracking down a loose tiger that appeared in the area (the tiger later turns out to be Atsushi himself), the initial focus on Atsushi, who nevertheless remains one of the central figures of Bungo’s story world, gradually fragments into several plot lines which follow the Armed Detective Agency’s encounters with the Port Mafia, The Guild, and, later, the Rats of the House of the Dead. The perspective also frequently changes from that of the detective agency to a close-up view of the mafia’s business, which allows us to discover some elements of the characters’ dark past. Finally, although Bungo Stray Dogs is generally not a ‘dark’ anime (apart from some bloody visuals here and there), it does get pretty dark in Bungo Stray Dogs: Dead Apple with the introduction of  the antagonists Tatsuhiko Shibusawa and Fyodor Dostoevsky as special ability users in Yokohama and all over the world suddenly start committing suicides.

All in all, even if anime and manga are not really your thing, but you do have an interest in literature and cross-cultural encounters of all kind, I would definitely recommend giving Bungo Stray Dogs a go. The series is pretty unique in the way it plays with cultural figures from different parts of the world and engages them into unexpected encounters on the streets of Yokohama. Its underlying literary theme gives the otherwise ‘yet-another-action-anime’ an original touch and might end up being just right for all the ‘less-anime-and-manga-inclined’ bookworms out there. 

Sources: 

1. Valdez, Nick. “Bungo Stray Dogs’ Season 3 Shares New Poster.” ComicBook.com, 1 January 2019, https://comicbook.com/anime/2019/01/01/bungo-stray-dogs-season-3-poster/. Accessed 9 February 2019. 

Productive with Music

The studying girl on one of the most popular YouTube Lofi Hip Hop mixes: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-FlxM_0S2lA.

Disclaimer: The contents and opinions of this blog post do not represent the views or values of Honours Review as a publication.

Walking through the library during the exam period, simply searching for your own study spot, makes it quite clear what the opinion of most Groningen students on joining music and studying together is. Headphones and earphones are omnipresent in the study areas just as much as they are present at gyms; allowing everyone to immerse in their music of choice to help them perform the task at hand better. Such a pattern can be seen as a symptom of today’s so-called ‘iPod culture’, in which the habit of mobile listening allows one to privatize space and time (1), tailoring it to their own needs; but at the same time, the continued growth of its prominence may suggest there are more advantages to studying, working or exercising with music than simply a sense of self-controlled privacy.

YouTube and Spotify playlists such as “Lofi Hip Hop Radio: Beats to Relax/ Study to” and “Lofi hip hop radio-chill/ study beats” (or, more traditionally, “Mozart - Classical Music for Brain Power”) are swarmed with views, mostly from stressed college and university students in their exam periods. At the same time, multitasking and any kind of sensory overload are never recommended to improve focus and efficiency: so wouldn’t we be better off being productive in silence?

The iPod culture might have only started with the 21st century, but background music has been a concern of workplaces (as well as restaurants or shopping venues) already in the 1930s and 1940s; not to mention there are ideas of songs lifting up the workers’ spirits dating back even to Ancient Greece: such as “the sound of whistles, of flutes and fifes to encourage the work-folk” in Aristophanes’ Acharnians (2). Perhaps the most prominent industry attempting to control moods with music was American Muzak. Drawing on multiple artists’ work, the brand released recordings for all sorts of settings, from lounges to factories. Some of their albums meant to relax, other to make one spend more; or to effectively boost one’s productivity. For this last purpose, the company came up with Stimulus Progression; a remedy for the “industrial efficiency curve”, or more commonly called “fatigue curve”. The tunes were sorted by mood (from Gloomy to Ecstatic) and chosen exactly to stimulate energy when it was at the lowest; at the same time combat monotony in periods of hyperactivity. Reports of the effectiveness of Muzak’s invention included a reduction in stress, better concentration and work results: for both factory and office workers (3). 

Would Muzak be one’s best call to get productive with nowadays too? At least when trying it out myself, no miraculous effects faced me; close to no one seems to use Stimulus Progression when working these days probably for a reason. This reason could be our current ability to customize our own study playlist without having to rely on ready-made background music, the change in music tastes; or simply, the availability of an alternative. 

 Despite having a possibility to play their favorite music while studying, the aforementioned “study playlists” or “study streams” especially of the lofi (low fidelity) hip hop/ chillhop genre (as explained by Ryan O’Halloran, “a slightly more rugged flavour of general hip hop” (4)) with looped animations of focused people or adorable raccoons working tirelessly gain millions of views; and according to their comment sections, help countless young adults study and pass their exams. The music itself is rather monotonous, downtempo, foregrounding the beat; with a “muffled drum machine pitter, a few lazy nocturnal synth beams, perhaps an entranced, elliptical vocal sample sourced from self-help tapes, ancient cartoons, Nintendo 64 games, or public-access flotsam” (5); plus the unavoidable lofi element of vinyl-like crackles (4). It has been be argued the appeal of this sort of playlists lies in their direct reference to the nostalgia for beats and aesthetic of Cartoon Network's Adult Swim and Toonami, or the importance of the moving image of productivity, or the ease with which this kind of calm, repetitive music blends into the background (5). 

Such claims so far, are not a result of any academic studies; however, the researches made before on music and focus, music and mood control, as well as music and memorizing can be of guidance when understanding the phenomenon of lofi study music streams from their auditory side. So far, it has been argued that:

• Listening to music before a task can improve attention and memory (6); 

• Liked and disliked music with vocals/lyrics are both equally distracting during a task (6); 

• Emotionally neutral music has a better effect on memory for those with previous musical training, while subjectively pleasurable music works better for those without it (7); 

• Music with simple musical structures and without lyrics can boost productivity especially on repetitive tasks, for those used to working with music and having control over the music they choose to listen to (8); 

• Last but not least, music can block off undesired sounds in the environment that could potentially be distracting to conscious attention: such as someone sniffing, whispering or typing on their laptop as it often happens at the library (9). 

This is just a part of the relevant research; however, it can begin to point towards the source of lofi hip-hop popularity. Instrumental, simple, background, indistinct, and rather neutral but at the same time pleasurable, the streams seem to play into most, if not all, requirements for music successfully blocking off outward noise, boosting productivity, while at the same time is hardly distracting. The nostalgic elements of the playlists make sure the beats blend right in with what we are used to, not drawing too much attention, and the loop of studying characters are relatable, motivating, and just the right visual fit for the music. Although, or perhaps because the lofi streams don’t seem to follow the Stimulus Progression ideas Muzak suggested, rather sticking around the neutral/ a bit down mood levels, they work better for our generation.

After all, it’s common we start studying already stressed, somewhere in the middle of the fatigue curve: what we need isn’t just stimulating energy and motivation, but also relaxation, and a chill study environment of our own in the pacing world. 

Sources:

1. Bull, Michael. “No Dead Air! The iPod and the Culture of Mobile Listening”. Leisure Studies, Vol. 24, No. 4. Routledge, 2005. http://asounder.org/resources/bull_nodeadair.pdf.

2. Aristophanes. The Acharnians. Project Gutenberg Etext, 2002. http://www.dominiopublico.gov.br/download/texto/gu003012.pdf. 

3. Lanza, Joseph. Elevator Music: A Surreal History of Muzak, Easy-Listening, and Other Moodsong. University of Michigan Press, 2004.

4. Alemoru, Kemi. “Inside YouTube’s calming ‘Lofi Hip Hop Radio to Relax/Study to’ community”. Dazed Digital, 2018. http://www.dazeddigital.com/music/article/40366/1/youtube-lo-fi-hip-hop-study-relax-24-7-livestream-scene.

5. Winkie, Luke. “How 'Lofi Hip Hop Radio to Relax/Study to' Became a YouTube Phenomenon”. Vice, 2018. https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/594b3z/how-lofi-hip-hop-radio-to-relaxstudy-to-became-a-youtube-phenomenon.

6. Perham, Nick. “Can preference for background music mediate the irrelevant sound effect?”. Applied Cognitive Psychology, Vol. 25, No. 4. Wiley Online Library, 2011. https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1002/acp.1731.

7. Klemm, William R. “Does music help memory?”. Psychology Today, 2013. https://www.psychologytoday.com/intl/blog/memory-medic/201312/does-music-help-memory.

8. Haake, Anneli B. “Music at work: distracting or beneficial?”. Music at Work, 2011. http://musicatwork.net/music-at-work-distracting-or-beneficial/.

9. Burnett, Dean. “Does music really help you concentrate?”. The Guardian, 2016. https://www.theguardian.com/education/2016/aug/20/does-music-really-help-you-concentrate. 

Turning a New Page: The Destiny of Literature in the Digital Era

Disclaimer: The contents and opinions of this blog post do not represent the views or values of Honours Review as a publication.

Introduction

For many people, the start of a new year symbolizes an opportunity for new commitments, especially regarding self-improvement of not only the body, but also the mind. According to a recent Elliptical Reviews survey (3),  the goal to read more books is among the top ten New Year’s resolutions, whether “more” means “more” compared to past reading habits or marking a newfound desire for intellectual growth. However, reflecting on the potential obstacles for reaching this goal, the time that could be spent reading often goes to other recreational activities: watching movies or TV, browsing the Internet or playing video games. While literature is not inherently superior to these types of entertainment in the sense of gaining new experiences and knowledge, it may seem like the newer media are replacing books in the stores, technologies and minds for many of the post-Internet generation. This begs the question: Could the fate of digital era books truly be summarized as “out with the old, in with new”?

Passing the Torch

The declining popularity of reading is a notorious modern day debate topic, having countless concerned think pieces and calls to action, such as The Washington Post warning that “The death of reading is threatening the soul” (8). Literary statistics, too, depict a rather gloomy picture: Although the number of books published per US inhabitant has increased threefold since the 1920s (5), the number of non-readers has also tripled between 1978 and 2014 (7). The pessimistic nature of these facts may have theoretical support in political economist Joseph Schumpeter’s concept of “creative destruction” – the ongoing cycle of the old structures, or in this case media, being destroyed as new ones emerge (6). Beyond theory, this process can be seen reflected in culture as well, such as the 1979 hit song “Video Killed the Radio Star”.

In view of this, it seems entirely possible that the decline of books could be tied to the rise of digitally accessible entertainment content, from Netflix series to SoundCloud podcasts. After all, historically the introduction of domestic television dealt a blow to movie theatre revenues, and the invention of the Internet allowed file sharing and piracy to threaten music industry’s livelihood. Still, all of these media continue to coexist today, each with hundreds of millions of daily consumers. Therefore, the fate of literature might not hinge on direct competition with digital entertainment, but rather on enduring the current drop in the popularity of reading and finding opportunities to work together with, not in spite of, technological change.

A Double-Edged Sword

Undeniably, books have not remained unaltered since the days of monk illustrated manuscripts or Gutenberg’s printing press. Just like we are no longer limited to dial-up Internet and silent movies, literature, too, has adapted to the technological advancements. Thus, the appearance of e-books and audiobooks created ways for members of today’s increasingly mobile society to read books while travelling with limited room for baggage, or to listen to them on their way to work. This upgrade from paper to electronic formats allows books to share the key aspect of accessibility, which has ensured the advancement of media like the Spotify music streaming platform. 

Nevertheless, it may not be enough for books to catch up to new technological affordances if they might also negatively affect the societal affinity for reading. The immediacy and availability of online entertainment is condemned by many, such as linguist Naomi Baron, as teaching us “to skew the balance away from continuous reading, much less close reading, and toward reading on the prowl” (1). The presence of the “TL;DR” abbreviation (meaning “too long; didn’t read) alongside longer online texts raises concerns for the continued capabilities of text-only books to reach audiences which are technologically discouraged from long, intensive reading practices. 

On the Same Wavelength

The issue of the traditional book composition feeling outdated and lacking in comparison to newer media, despite the actual entertainment value of the content, may have a solution in the transformation of literature beyond a strictly textual experience. Conceptualized as remediation (“the formal logic by which new media refashion prior media forms”) (2), this is reflected in the countless adaptations of books into movies, TV series and other formats which tend to require a different type of mental effort to understand and enjoy. While it is arguable whether this transplantation of content into other media settings would still classify it as literature, quite often remediated books at least attract a wave of new readers. This reveals a futuristic, mutually beneficial relationship between books providing creative content for adaptation and other media effectively serving as advertisements for the source material.

Moreover, the fate of today’s book industry might also be helped by other digital media offering ways to improve the reading community. Social media platforms can lend to literature an interactive dimension it cannot achieve on its own, ranging in shape from Twitter discussions about literary universe theories, to sharing fan art of book series’ characters on Tumblr, to having a fan collective Q&A with authors on Reddit. In this regard, the integration of technology within the book reading experience may seem like a positive turn of events.

Conclusion

Based on the successes of e-books, audiobooks and literary remediation, there does not appear to be an outright battle of technology and literature, where “[w]e’re engaged in a war, and technology wields the heavy weapons” (8). However, it would be short-sighted to dismiss the role of creative and digital evolution in the ways we now read or don’t read, as actor Stephen Fry did with his much-quoted Tweet: “Books are no more threatened by Kindle than stairs by elevators” (4). In-between the black-and-white views of literary pessimism and optimism lies the acceptance of platforms like video gaming and social media coexisting and often interacting with the content of books. From this perspective, it would appear that books, both paper and electronic, are experiencing not a death, but a rebirth in appearances more suited for today’s technology-driven, culturally diverse society.

Bibliography: 

1. Baron, N. S. (2015). Words onscreen: The fate of reading in a digital world. New York, NY: Oxford University Press.

2. Bolter, J., & Grusin, R. (1999). Remediation: Understanding new media. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

3. Committing to the New Year. (2018). Elliptical Reviews. Retrieved from https://www.ellipticalreviews.com/new-years-resolutions/ 

4. Fry, S. [stephenfry]. (2009, March 11). This is the point. One technology doesn't replace another, it complements. Books are no more threatened by Kindle than stairs by elevators x [Tweet]. Retrieved from https://twitter.com/stephenfry/status/1312682218?lang=en

5. Kovač, M., Phillips, A., Van der Weel, A., & Wischenbart, R. (2017). Book statistics: What are they good for? Logos, 28(4), 7-17. 

6. Schumpeter, J.A. (1962). Chapter VII: The process of creative destruction. In Capitalism, Socialism and Democracy (3rd ed., pp. 81-86). New York, NY: Harper Torchbooks.

7. Weissmann, J. (2014, January 21). The decline of the American book lover. The Atlantic. Retrieved from https://www.theatlantic.com/business/archive/2014/01/the-decline-of-the-american-book-lover/283222/ 

8. Yancey, P. (2017, July 21). The death of reading is threatening the soul. The Washington Post. Retrieved from https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/acts-of-faith/wp/2017/07/21/the-death-of-reading-is-threatening-the-soul/?noredirect=on&utm_term=.2af7bff512d4 

‘Reinventing the Wheel’: How the Current Anime and Manga Scene Is Drawing Its Inspiration from the Theme of ‘the Doppelgänger’

Disclaimer: The contents and opinions of this blog post do not represent the views or values of Honours Review as a publication.

Anyone who has ever read Sui Ishida’s popular dark fantasy manga series Tokyo Ghoul, or watched at least one episode of its anime adaptation, probably noticed how the series largely builds its plot around the theme of the so-called ‘(evil) double’ or ‘the Doppelgänger’. 

Tokyo Ghoul is set in an alternate reality where humans coexist with cannibalistic ghouls. The ghouls look exactly like ‘normal’ human beings as well as mimic their behavior and appearance. Most of them live among the human population in secret to avoid being caught by the authorities. Some of them, however, are consciously trying to suppress their ‘ghoulish’ nature, integrate with the human population, and pursue a ‘normal’, human life. 

Throughout the greater part of the series, the protagonist Kaneki Ken struggles with his ‘inner-ghoul’ and tries to find a balance between his human and ghoul side. Kaneki’s struggle, however, is a bit more intense than that of an ‘every-day ghoul’ because Kaneki is a half-ghoul; neither a complete ghoul, nor a complete human being. A half-ghoul is usually an offspring of a human and a ghoul or is created artificially by transplanting ghoul organs into a human, as was the case with Kaneki.

As a half-ghoul, Kaneki experiences double-alienation; both from the world of ‘pure’ human beings and the world of ‘pure’ ghouls, due to which his character development primarily revolves around balancing the ‘human Kaneki’ and the ‘ghoul Kaneki’, as well as finding a way for humans and ghouls to coexist. The whole concept of the inner coexistence between the ‘human Kaneki’ and the ‘ghoul Kaneki’, together with the character’s attempts to suppress his ‘ghoulish’ nature at the beginning of the series, is also reflected in the first seasons’ opening theme Unravel by Toru Kitajima from Ling Tosite Sigure and its lyrics: “Is there someone inside of me?”   

In Ishida’s world, the figure of the ghoul can be seen as a metaphor of duality and the darker side of human nature. The ghoul metaphorically channels suppressed desires and/or uncontrollable feelings. So, for instance, while ‘human Kaneki’ would not even dare to hurt a fly, the ‘ghoul Kaneki’ channels precisely those aspects of Kaneki’s character which largely remain suppressed or hidden in his ‘human side’, such as Kaneki’s eventual decision to ‘hurt’ (i.e., completely smash) other ghouls in order to protect the people he cares for. But this dynamic between the two sides of Kaneki’s character and the idea of suppressing some uncontrollable aspects of human nature is not really that new in contemporary Japanese popular culture. 

In general, the theme of the “Doppelgänger” (German: Literally “double-goer”) actually goes all the way back to German Romanticism and the German poet Heinrich Heine. Heine’s poem Der Doppelgänger (1828) introduces the figure of ‘the double’ through the image of a man who suffers a mental breakdown once he encounters an individual looking uncannily like him. 

Even though the theme of the “Doppelgänger” has roots in German Romanticism, it has become better known through the works of Edgar Allan Poe, Robert Louise Stevenson, and the Russian writer Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky. Poe’s short story William Wilson (1839) revolves around a student who meets a boy of the same name, age, and appearance. As a result, he loses his mind as the story unfolds and ‘the other William Wilson’ keeps appearing at different stages of ‘the original William Wilson’s’ life. Stevenson’s Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1886) is probably the most famous story dealing with the theme of ‘the double’, in which Dr. Henry Jekyll experiments with chemicals that eventually turn him into the devious Mr. Edward Hyde. Finally, Dostoevsky’s famous novel The Double (1846) tells the story of a mentally-unstable clerk who is convinced that a double is stealing away his job, girl, and eventually bedroom. There’s a bunch of other books dealing with the theme of ‘the double’, but these are probably some of the best-known examples. There’s also a ton of pretty interesting movie adaptations to check out, such as Richard Ayoade’s The Double (2013), focusing on Dostoevsky’s novel.

The theme of ‘the double’ is also flooding the contemporary anime and manga scene and many popular series and productions are arguably inspired by the same themes that intrigued the minds of Poe and Stevenson almost a century ago. Tokyo Ghoul is just one of them. Recent volumes of Yana Toboso’s manga series Black Butler, for example, have revealed that the young Earl Ciel Phantomhive actually has a twin brother (as if one spoiled English lord was not enough for Sebastian to handle). 

Although dealing with the theme of ‘the double’ in a different way, Hajime Isayama’s Attack on Titan is similar to Tokyo Ghoul in some of its underlying ideas. For instance, while in Ishida’s story world the ghouls turn into a metaphor of some darker aspects of human nature, the same can be said for the humanoid giants in Isayama’s. Attack on Titan’s protagonist Eren Yaeger also goes through similar struggles as Kaneki while trying to control the transformations into his titan form. The figure of the titans, and the idea of humans transforming into them, can also be read as a metaphor of uncontrollable or inhuman urges that are sometimes difficult to suppress or should, for better or for worse, perhaps remain hidden.

The same goes for Ichigo Kurosaki from Tite Kubo’s manga and anime series Bleach. In Bleach, the theme of ‘the double’ is represented through Ichigo’s struggles with his hollow side (in the fictional world of Bleach, hollows are corrupted spirits which devour the souls of human beings), and many episodes of the anime and manga are visually impressive in their way of depicting how the human in Ichigo is gradually being devoured by the hollow inside him.

The list of anime series inspired by the theme of ‘the double’ could go on into infinity, but I will wrap up with one last example: Kazue Kato’s Blue Exorcist. This one is perhaps not the most obvious example but we can read Rin Okamura’s initial urge to suppress his demon instincts as representing a struggle between his ‘human self’ and the ‘demonic other’.

All in all, it is interesting to see how many anime and manga series are actually inspired by similar themes. From Tokyo Ghoul to Attack on Titan and Blue Exorcist, some elements in all of these series can be seen as based on the concept of ‘the Doppelgänger’ or ‘the (evil) double’. The frequent occurrence of the motif of ‘the double’ and the protagonist’s inner struggle to balance different aspects of his/her personality attests to these themes’ recurrent presence in contemporary Japanese popular culture, even though they have roots in German Romanticism and Edgar Allan Poe, or probably even further back in history. In any case, one could easily say that the series discussed above are just ‘reinventing the wheel’, but they all are still pretty amazing and give a ‘centuries-old theme’ their own, unique twist.