#it's basically the *only* remaining trace of my work that is relatively tangible

[rawliverandgoronspice]

.

it is absolutely doing something to me to see people relating to/loving The Character in spite of the many flaws of how his story is conveyed.

Knowing what this character was meant to be originally (even knowing he kind of returned there a little bit, at least more than what I'd be comfortable with), it does warm my heart to see people connecting to his story regardless. Like yes, the spiral of quite-literal madness and the relentless fights were worth it for this reason, at least.

[tedlyanderson]

A Completely Incomplete History of the Magical Girl Subgenre in Manga and Anime, pt. 1

I’ve been posting a bit recently about a pitch I’m working on called Sunshine Cheer Squad Go!, which can be summed up as “magical girl cheerleaders.” But what do I mean by “magical girl”? In this case, I’m referring to a very specific subgenre of manga and anime, first appearing in the 1960s and which has gone through some significant evolution since then. If you’re even passingly familiar with Japanese pop culture, you’re most likely familiar with the basics of the genre: teenage girls acquire magical superpowers, transform into sparkly princess warriors, and then battle and defeat the forces of evil. (The Japanese term for this subgenre, mahou shoujo, literally translates to “magical girl.”) I’ve always been fascinated by these narratives, and what’s struck me is that it’s a subgenre unique to Japan; that is to say, while it originated from a variety of tropes and concepts from across the world, and there’s been cross-pollination since the very beginning, the subgenre began and flourished in Japan. What’s more, because it’s such a relatively recent creation, we can trace its evolution very precisely. I want to take a look at the origins of the magical girl and describe the changes and permutations she’s gone through. Join me below the break, won’t you?

I’ll start with an attempt at a definition: a “magical girl” series is a series in which the main character(s) are girls, typically teenagers or pre-teens, who have access to magical or otherworldly abilities in what is otherwise a normal, real-world setting, which are used in conjunction with personal strengths and virtues to solve problems and/or achieve their goals, and which they must keep concealed from other people who aren’t in on the secret. Now, that definition is overly broad and probably includes a lot of things which most people wouldn’t call “magical girl”—for example, the only thing that separates this from the superhero genre is that the protagonist is exclusively, rather than occasionally female, and that there is rarely a focus on physical combat—but that’ll do for now.

As I see it, there are three major generations of magical girl series, three phases of the subgenre marked by significant changes in the character archetype and the structure of the basic narrative, but with an underlying set of themes and a continuity of ideas that links them together. Now, you can’t completely divide up any group of media into rigid categories, because there are always going to be outliers and works that defy categorization: creators ahead of their time, deliberate throwbacks, attempts at hybridization, cross-genre works, and so forth. But it is possible to define broad trends and expectations, and that’s what I’ll be writing about. When applicable, I’ll also discuss works which notably depart from these categories for one reason or another, but this is a general overview, not an encyclopedic history.

So let’s start with the first generation of magical girls! There are of course antecedents and early works that have elements of the magical girl—for example, Osamu Tezuka’s Princess Knight (Ribon no Kishi)—but the very first magical girl series as it is usually defined is Little Witch Sally (Mahoutsukai Sally), which began as a short-lived manga series in July of 1966; it was adapted into an anime by Toei Animation and began airing in December of that year. In the series, Sally is the Witch Princess of the Magic Kingdom, who travels to the human world in order to make friends her own age. She keeps her magic powers a secret and acts like a normal human girl in order to fit in.

The creator of the manga, Mitsuteru Yokoyama (who also created Tetsujin 28-go, better known in the United States as Gigantor), said that the major inspiration for the series was the American sitcom Bewitched, about Samantha the witch marrying a mortal man and trying to act like a normal housewife. Now, there’s a debate to be had about whether Bewitched was a patriarchal fantasy about dominating women and preventing them from using their natural talents, or a slyly feminist parable about the degree to which “submissive” wives can manipulate and control their husbands within the domestic sphere, but that’s a whole other essay. What matters here is what differentiates Sally from Bewitched, and to me the difference is clear: Sally, the character, has no responsibilities. She is beholden to nobody; the only rules she has to obey are those she sets herself. Sally is allowed to do anything she likes, because there is nothing at stake and her actions have no serious repercussions. In a word, Samantha from Bewitched is an adult, with adult responsibilities and obligations, but Sally is a child.

[Edited 9/11/17: friend and cartoonist @bakertoons pointed out that, technically, the series Akko’s Secret (Himitsu no Akko-chan) premiered before Sally, and should rightly be considered the first magical girl series! In the series, the young Akko is visited by the Queen of the Mirror Kingdom, who gives her a magic mirror and a spell to transform into whatever she wants. The manga of Akko by Fujio Akatsuka (probably more well-known today for his series Osomatsu-kun) was first published in the manga magazine Ribon in 1962, four years before Sally‘s debut. Sally was the first magical girl anime, debuting in 1966, but Akko was definitely the first magical girl manga. In fact, Akko was made into an anime series in 1969, partly as a replacement for Sally. I have seen references to the effect that Akatsuka was also inspired by Bewitched when creating Akko. I can’t verify this, but it certainly seems plausible.]

Professor Susan J. Napier, in her book Anime from Akira to Princess Mononoke (later updated and re-released as Anime from Akira to Howl’s Moving Castle), describes three extremely general categories of anime and manga, based on the overall emotions they evoke: festival, apocalyptic, and elegiac. This first generation of magical girl series falls squarely in the festival category: our characters have no major duties, little is at stake, their problems are relatively small and easily solvable, and all’s well that ends well. Virtually nothing carries over between episodes of Little Witch Sally; there are no recurring villains or long-running plotlines. Now, to be clear, this isn’t rare for anime of the period, or even most television—Bewitched didn’t have much in the way of long-running continuity, either—but it’s worth pointing out, in light of later developments in the genre.

Sally was followed by other, similar series: Mahoutsukai Chappy in 1972 and Majokko Megu-chan (pictured above) in 1974. I’ll admit to having difficulty finding episodes of these series, so I can’t comment on them as extensively, but from what I’ve read, they follow the same basic trajectory: young girl from a magical world is transported to our world, has low-stakes adventures, learns some lessons about friendship and so forth. Toei also produced other series that I think merit the “magical girl” label—for example, Marvelous Melmo (Fushigi na Melmo), in which a normal girl who loses her mother in a car accident receives a bottle of magic pills from her mother’s ghost, which lets her transform into various forms—but again, my direct knowledge of these series is limited.

The elements that define the first generation of magical girls as distinct from later works will become more clear as I discuss the genre in future posts, but for now, here’s what I see as the crucial points for the first generation. First, these series are largely episodic; while there may be recurring characters and even a series finale, there isn’t an overarching plot which shapes the series as a whole. Each episode stands on its own, and follows a general formula that remains largely the same for the entire series. Second, there is no larger threat, or at least no threat that tangibly menaces the main character. These girls weren’t leaving their magical kingdoms because they were threatened or some dark villain was invading—they needed to learn how the mortal world works, or they had to train their magic powers, or they were just bored! These series did not have active, menacing villains who worked against the heroes, or at least not ones who were in any way competent or legitimately threatening. And lastly, the protagonists do not have secret identities. While they need to keep their magical abilities secret, they don’t have alter egos or alternate personas that they need to hide from their friends. Again, this will be more significant by comparison to later generations of magical girls, but for now, put it like this: Sally was always a witch, whether she used her magic or not, but Usagi Tsukino is only sometimes Sailor Moon.

That’s it for part one of this extremely incomplete history! Join me for future installments, won’t you?