A little less than two weeks ago, a guy writing for New York Magazine threw out an article that ostensibly linked Twitter users who have anime avatars with a certain internet group, and there was a bit of a fuss about it. I kind of joked about it when the article came out, but I also spent some time musing about it—and so, as I do with most things I spend time thinking about, I wrote a column for Crunchyroll about it!
You guys probably know better than anyone how overjoyed I’ve generally been with this season. You guys also probably know better than most how, when I’m really feeling happy about something, I just gotta let people know about it. So, of course, that’s what I did with this week’s edition of Aniwords—I told everyone how happy I am about this season (and tried to disguise it with some kind of vague lesson about how we need to be careful when being hyped about stuff to others). Read at your own risk, I suppose…
One thing I really enjoy about being an anime fan is seeing how this particular hobby that I have interacts with the non-anime liking world. I’ve had some great experiences—like friends watching the entirety of shows I like and love (SAO and Chihayafuru, respectively) with me—and some not so great ones. But we’re all anime fans who live in the real world, and not all of us (aka, me!) want anime to just be a hobby that we keep in the privacy of our apartments. I’m not ashamed of liking anime, but every time I try and dodge telling people about it makes me feel like I am.
I don’t want to be that kind of person. I want to be someone who is authentic, even if it means that I get into some awkward moments sometimes. This column is a story about that wish.
This may very well be my most clickbait title yet, but I have no regrets because I’m honestly extraordinarily happy with how this post turns out and I want as many people as possible to read it. In a way, I consider this the sister post to the “Open Letter to Anitwitter” Tumblr post I wrote some weeks back; it just comes at the same general topic in a different way. And what is that topic? It’s paradigms of dialogue; that is, how we talk to each other within the anime fandom (although I hope the points I’m making extend in applicability beyond simply this one fandom). And these are all just, as I see it, me working my way up to what will hopefully be my seminal post on media, anime, and identity—my thesis, as it were, on being an anime fan.
But, for now…here’s the link!
Got a good recommendation on Twitter (I think it was kind of tongue-in-cheek, but I ended up running with it) and popped out my longest Aniwords column yet. I’ve kind of been trying to keep them around 750 words, but this one just got away from me…whoops! So, how about a full version of that lovely article thumbnail?
Up until episode 8, Sound! Euphonium had been one of my favorite shows of the current anime season—beautifully produced, delicately written, nostalgic in the extreme, thoughtfully reflective on the nature of competitive high school music programs. But, when episode 8 hit the Anitwitter waves, there was…a shift in focus I wasn’t expecting. And the effects of that shift were, well…I didn’t realize what they were for a while, but I thought the overall arc of my experience with the episode was interesting enough that I ought to bring my immediate reactions over from Tumblr and make a more reflective piece out of this fascinating experience.
A brief summary of my history with the Love Live! franchise: some months back, very soon after I started writing for the Crunchyroll Newsletter, I got tapped to do a little review of Love Live! 2. Now, at this time I had barely heard of the franchise, but I wanted to get writing, so I wrote the piece. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Skip to the present and I’ve watched all of season 2 and spent countless hours with Love Live! School Idol Festival (the franchise’s mobile rhythm game), but I still hadn’t seen season one. Until now.
If you’re dialed in to the anime fandom, particularly the simulcast-watching, blogging segment of the fandom that I inhabit, you’ve probably heard at least some hints of the controversy that’s been surrounding noitaminA’s new show, Your Lie in April, a 2-cour anime produced by A-1 Pictures and based on the Kodansha Manga Award winning manga by Naoshi Arakawa.
Near as I can tell as someone standing apart from those who are decrying the show, the bulk of the outcry surrounding KimiUso is derived from the show’s treatment of protagonist Kousei’s traumatic-abusive childhood at the hands of his now-deceased mother.
Now, I’ve always tried to form my own opinions of a show divorced from the complaints and praises of other, but KimiUso has been something of a special case for me. This is, partially, because I’m hearing these complaints from other bloggers whom I personally like and respect, but also because the criticism seems not to be directed towards KimiUso‘s technical aspects so much as it targets ethical concerns, excepting cases where the two merge together.