Anime from Akira to Howl's Moving Castle: Experiencing Contemporary Japanese Animation [Paperback]

Whether it is still relatively new to us, or as Westerners we are close-minded to accept what the overwhelming world of Japanese popular culture has to offer--nevertheless there are not a lot of texts published (academic or otherwise) on the topic. While it is nice to see anime and manga recognized as valid art forms, personally, I don't find Susan Napier to be the one to write about these sorts of things. I was forced to read this book for a class on the visual pop culture of Japan, and although I am not entirely familiar with many of the series she mentions, I still know the difference between a good and bad argument in academic writing.

Although she means well and brings up relevant points (like the three types of series: elegiac, festival, and apocalyptic plotlines) and has the occasional interesting and original interpretation or idea (though scarce), the book soon becomes chapter after chapter of Freudian thought and it's not only tiresome, but it makes me question if she is doing this for shock value and sex appeal, or if she truly believes InuYasha's sword is a phallic symbol or the blood smeared on San's ("Princess Mononoke"'s) face is reflective of her menstrual cycle, which Napier uses to instantly suggest she is feminine and fertile, while immediately countering it with counts of San's masculine acts, constantly in this wishy-washy pattern that makes the book hard to comprehend. It was amusing the first time, but it just becomes ludicrous how often she thinks of characters and symbols sexually, instead of for what they are or other possible interpretations, and sees gender as a black-and-white issue, and has to bring it up for every series, regardless of its demographics. She stretches it a little too far when she analyzes the grotesquely pornographic anime "Legend of Overfiend" and suggests "the film's orgy sequences may hint at the financial orgies engaged in by Japan's newly rich at the height of the bubble economy" (273). I don't know about you, but I think most of the people who enjoy pornography aren't watching it for the profound political satire and social critiques.

If you enjoy reading bad arguments and wondering how many times you can see the word "vagina" in a chapter (13 times in chapter 4), and if you are also a fan of really dated anime and authors who twist their source material and use selective but completely irrelevant quotes to fit their arguments, then I would recommend this book. Otherwise, stay far away from it.
The saddest part is that this was an updated version, and as it has errors of its own, it makes me wonder how many errors were in the first edition (From Akira to Princess Mononoke), and if any of those errors were fixed. It also makes me wonder, and a little afraid, if Napier will update this book again with more relevant anime series or films (From Akira to...Ponyo?) and I can only hope for the best in the future of Japanese popular culture in the Western world.

Susan Napier's book Anime from Akira to Howl's Moving Castle, Updated Edition: Experiencing Contemporary Japanese Animation is a noble attempt at bringing an academic lens to a topic that is so often marginalized. Napier's thematic approach to anime and manga holds promise, but it is her flagrant disregard for accuracy that ultimately makes it impossible to seriously consider this work as truly informative.

Napier structures her book around themes that she contends are central to the medium of anime and manga, specifically: the apocalypse, Japanese victim mentality, and the challenge of gender identity. In doing so, Napier succeeds in identifying common themes in anime and manga that, through analysis, can reveal a deeper meaning of many of the works discussed in the book.

Particularly convincing is Napier's focus of apocalyptic settings combined with Japan's national mentality of victimization. The author makes a moving case for the freedom that a post-apocalyptic setting allows creators to comment on social issues that take place in modern day Japan. It would be hard to deny that the image of Neo-Tokyo with its mass of urban metropolis contrasting with a large atomic crater is one of the most engrossing parts of Akira. Equally, it is only against the bleak backdrop of utter destruction that Grave of the Fireflies could tell such a moving story about two children attempting to live during the firebombing of Japan during World War II. Thematically, understanding not only the value of apocalyptic settings for storytelling, but the history and mentality that help Japanese animators imagine such settings gives readers a deeper appreciation of anime as a reflection of culture.

This book deals with gender and sexuality in a less successful, if equally interesting, manner. Gender, and often the manipulation or changing of gender, is undeniably a common theme across many works of anime and manga. Indeed Napier at times chooses fine examples such as Ranma ½ to demonstrate these comments on gender. Unfortunately, Napier has a tendency to over-analyze every anime she puts her eye on by boiling everything down to supporting her own definition or masculinity or femininity. Indeed this is one chapter in particular where one begins to wonder if anything in anime possessing an even modest protrusion can be interpreted as anything BUT phallic. It is the author's tendency to apply pseudo-Freudian analysis to any and all objects in anime and manga that makes her otherwise interesting chapters on gender laborious to read.

It is unfortunate then that Napier's work in many ways falls apart when it is applied to particular anime or manga. With alarming regularity, Napier butchers the characters, plots, and even names of anime in her pursuit of her narrative. Often readers with a background in anime are left puzzled at how fundamentally incorrect the author's assertions are with regards to concrete details. These annoyances are not merely differences in interpretation, but factual discrepancies. While it is understandable that any work of this length and scope will have minor mistakes, it is the regularity and self-assuredness that worries. To speak in absolutes and say that ALL villains in Cowboy Bebop are men, something that fans of the show will know to be obviously false, suggests a deeper issue than mere mistakes in memory.

After observing the sheer number of mistakes Napier makes when discussing popular anime and manga, and the way she used such mistakes to prove her point, I suspect that there may be a question of academic integrity at risk. After reading her work and discussing it with peers, I have noticed that there are an alarming number of cases where Napier does not simply seem to innocently mistake details of a particular anime, but instead twists facts in order to serve her own overall narrative. Personally, I find this to be a much graver offense than mere mistakes of memory. It is all the more puzzling when compared to instances where the author finds anime and manga that legitimately support her assertions.

Despite the value of the themes discussed within, Napier's disregard for factual accuracy, combined with a possible lack of academic integrity, leaves this work with very little to offer those who want to approach the medium of anime and manga academically.

As it is still relatively uncharted territory, good academia on anime is difficult for students to find. While this book is certainly a step in the right direction, it is not--in any way, shape, or form--where a discussion on the subject should end.

The book's strong points mainly lie in its broadest, most generalized ideas. Most notable, I believe, is Napier's argument that the majority of anime deals with one or more of three major themes: the apocalyptic, the elegiac, and/or the carnival. In general, the rest of the book focuses on these three modes and the way that they are portrayed, using specific titles as examples. However, I felt that, to some degree, she lost her thread somewhere along the way; instead of discussing the apocalyptic, elegiac, and carnival aspects, the chapters became a mash-up of arguments on why everything you see is a reference to sex or sexuality. I read this book for a class on visual Japanese culture, and more than once my classmates and I could not help but grumble over her arguably gratuitous, page-long descriptions of how, apparently, everything we see on screen is either a phallic symbol or a vagina in disguise. While Napier is, of course, free to interpret shows as she wishes, some of her claims just smack as silly to those who have watched the series in question. For example, while I found her chapter on the subject interesting, as a fan of "Ranma ½," I must confess that I have never interpreted Ranma, his father, and Ryoga's transformations (and subsequent reactions to those transformations) as a code for "female[s ...] being inferior to either pig or panda" (55). I have heard it said that Naiper's works are popular because she focuses on the "sexy;" this is true, and it grows very tiring, very quickly.

Still, disagreeing with certain arguments made by the author is not the reason I would dissuade people from using this book. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions, so long as those opinions are based on some degree of fact. Disturbingly, however, Napier has a tendency to twist the plots and characters of shows to fit her arguments, rather than the other way around. Though I have not personally watched the series, others in my class who are fans of "Neon Genesis Evangelion" and "Cowboy Bebop" were quick to discredit statements she made about characters and plot (or lack thereof, as it were). The inconsistencies (as well as blatant untruths) my peers and I were able to pick out of the book made it difficult to trust any claims she made, particularly when said claims were based on series that we hadn't personally seen. This is a tendency which, quite frankly, `does not a good reference book make.' By the same token, there were times when I found myself wondering how long it had been since Napier had last watched the anime she was discussing--or even if she'd watched it at all. On page 209, for instance, she features two pictures from the "Ranma ½" anime, and both are mislabeled. (The first picture misrepresents the scene in question; the second is a screecap of Ranma and his mother, not Ranma and Akane.)

To some degree, minor faults and dissatisfactions with the book--feeling as if it was very narrow in scope, growing frustrated with the distinct lack of more recent series-- can be attributed to the fact that anime, as a genre and medium of entertainment, is incredibly diverse and ever-changing, making it difficult to stay current. However, this does not forgive Napier for the glaring factual errors she made, both accidentally and (debatably) on purpose-- especially when this is supposed to be an updated version of a previous release.

While the overarching ideas have potential, I would not recommend "Anime: From Akira to Howl's Moving Caslte" to anyone to use in class or for study, unless they already have enough background knowledge on the subject to separate the fact from the fiction. Even then, tread with caution--you're likely to get very annoyed, very fast.