The 2chan.us blog (formerly welcome datacomp) wrote a quick post about the reopening of the pedestrian mall (hokoten, a colloquial abbreviation for 歩行者天国) in Akihabara, saying, “I find it slightly absurd that no English blog reported on this,” so I took that as a challenge to finally get something of substance up on the blog. Not much of the ideas presented below are my own: instead, this post represents a synthesis of a lot of the theoretical analysis about Akihabara with recent social and cultural developments. Perhaps the best resource in English is Patrick Galbraith’s recent article in Mechademia 5: Fanthropologies, “Akihabara: Conditioning a Public “Otaku” Image” (p. 210 – 230). This essay builds off of Galbraith’s foundations in response to the reopening of Akihabara Hokoten.

Akihabara has always been discussed as the “otaku mecca,” but not many speak of its importance as part of “the city.” The most relevant scholar to tackle this topic is Kaichiro Morikawa, famous for his book, 趣都の誕生 萌える都市アキハバラ (also known as “Learning from Akihabara: The Birth of a Personapolis”). His argument basically follows that the power of otaku desires have made them manifest in public space. This is an interesting concept, because no where else in the world has subculture or media impacted the physical space so much compared to Akihabara. A side-note, though: Morikawa notes in an updated edition of his text that due to Akihabara’s fame, it has attracted the media and politics, pushing out real, authentic otaku in favor of those who wish to perform “otaku-ness,” boosting the district’s image as otaku mecca (Galbraith 212).

Akihabara is known as the Electric Town of Tokyo: the technical capital of the city, where you can buy spare mechanical parts in addition to the latest computers, games, and electronics. The growth of Akihabara as an otaku-centric locale occurred after the economic bubble popped in Japan in the late ’80s, which the otaku’s conspicuous consumption survived. Otaku consumption within Akihabara steadily grew throughout the late ’90s, creating the “otaku mecca” as it stands today, teeming with anime-related media stores and speckled with maid cafes.

I won’t get into the cultural politics over the image of the otaku from the ’80s (Akio Nakamori and Tsutomu Miyazaki) through today, since I’ve talked about it in various anime con panels and Galbraith does an excellent job covering that ground in his article. Instead, we’ll work off the some generalist assumptions about Akihabara, namely that 1) otaku became a buzzword in the early ’00s after much negative media throughout the ’90s (negativity displaced in part due to media about otaku and politics directed toward them), 2) Akihabara’s image as a popular destination for foreign travelers solidified also in the early ’00s, and 3) the live population of visitors to Akihabara via the pedestrian mall, where streets were closed down to allow performers and extra pedestrians, fueled much of the district’s culture throughout the ’00s. However, on 8 June 2008 (ironically on my birthday), Tomohiro Katou ran his vehicle through Akihabara, exiting to stab people, killing seven and injuring 10 others.

Many feared that Katou’s actions would hurt Akihabara’s culture and the positivist otaku image. In reaction to the killings, Miyazaki (Tsutomu) — having received a life sentence in prison — was executed. The pedestrian mall, where much of otaku culture was making its impressions (such as the success of the Hare Haru Yukai dance from “The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya”), was officially closed, ending its 35-year history (Galbraith 225).

Galbraith ends his article at this temporal point, asking like many other Japanese and worldwide fans, “If this is Akihabara, where are the otaku?” Well, two and a half years later, the Akihabara Hokoten has finally reopened. The event made national news for evening television viewers (hit the link for video in Japanese for those interested). And while the event garnered thousands of returning visitors, not much seems to be different. Otaku culture within Japan in the past two years hasn’t changed drastically; the Katou/Akihabara murders don’t seem to have made a large impact on the identity of otaku within Japan: those who like them like them, and the majority that still frown down upon them still do. But in the midst of the “pedestrian paradise” closing, while other otaku-related location-based fads have popped up — most notably Washinomiya Shrine and the Odaiba Gundam — nothing in comparison to Akihabara has necessarily mobilized otaku.

So if otaku have not been mobilized, does that mean that the Akihabara Hokoten still may have influence on the propagation of otaku culture within Tokyo, as well as throughout the world as Akihabara’s culture grows more strong with this renewed potential for 3D performance and antics? Perhaps. We cannot dismiss that over the past few years, otaku-centric fads are diminishing: see for example the closing of various maid cafes throughout the district. However, we are also seeing other novel businesses pop up, such as the much-heralded Gundam Cafe.

The most interesting development that could occur may be related to the development of the visual industry itself. With Tokyo’s new Bill 156 in place and the anime industry losing a bit of steam, how will the revelries of the pedestrian paradise influence these developments? Or vice versa? We may perhaps see anime-related projects that tie some part of the media mix strategy into further mobilizing otaku, at least within Akihabara itself. Or the government may crack down on — or at least monitor — the activities within Akihabara. We’ll just have to see how it plays out over the next year.

But then off again to Anime Expo!

Sorry for the aberrant hiatus, everyone. Been really busy in the past few weeks with:

- Open Video Conference, where I spoke about the anime fandom’s balancing act of video culture and copyright law
- Web Ecology Project: We released a white paper full of quantitative analysis about how ideas move in the discourse regarding the Iranian Election on Twitter
- Hanging out in NYC with the crew from my Kyoto study abroad group (KCJS)

I really want/need to write articles this week, so I’ll try to get a lot of content up soon. But I have a lot on my plate right now, specifically fandom research in California and drawing up grant proposals for fandom research in Boston and Tokyo.

Good news is that come Thursday I’ll be in Los Angeles, speaking at Anime Expo. I have four panels lined up, which are:

Anime and Manga in Academia
Saturday, July 04, 2009 6:00pm to 6:50pm – LP 2
Whether you have just begun studying anime and manga seriously or are already well into your studies, this panel will guide you on the path from fan to established Japanese popular culture scholar.

Introduction to Anime/Manga Studies
Friday, July 03, 2009 10:30am to 11:20am – LP 3
Ever wanted to write a school paper on religion in Naruto? Read a book on Neon Genesis Evangelion? Or even get a college degree in otaku studies? Come meet the members of the Anime/Manga Research Circle!

The Problem with Otaku
Sunday, July 05, 2009 12:00pm to 12:50pm LP 2
From 1980s science fiction geeks, the concept of otaku has wholly transformed in Japan and America. We’ll examine the history and controversies of the most crucial part of the anime fandom: the fans.

Without Watching the Anime: Opening & Ending Themes
Friday, July 03, 2009 6:00pm to 6:50pm LP 3
When we watch anime, we tend to ignore what begins and ends series. But these small clips matter too! We’ll discuss history and music, and show some of the most influential OPs & EDs out there.

The rest of my potential schedule looks like this:

Thursday
- Digital Manga Publishing Industry Panel & eManga Demonstration (will miss due to plane arrival)
- Kouga Guest Panel (may miss due to plane arrival)
- Morikawa Guest Panel (may miss due to plane arrival)
- Morning Musume Guest Panel
- Imaishi & Nishigori Guest Panel
- Right Stuf & Nozomi Entertainment Industry Panel
- eigoMANGA Industry Panel
- Japan’s Hottest Doujin Videogames
- Gainax Focus Panel
- The Making of Gurren Lagann Documentary

Friday
- Introduction to Anime/Manga Studies
- Mizushima & Kuroda Guest Panel
- Gundam: The 30 Year Anniversary
- Manga as High Art
- VIZ Media Anime & Manga Panel
- Evangelion 1.0.1 Panel (won’t have time to see the movie due to…)
- Without Watching the Anime: OPs & EDs

Saturday
- The Indecent Otaku Comedy Hour
- Nightow & Nishimura Guest Panel
- Digital Distribution of Anime & Manga
- FUNimation Industry Panel
- Anime & Manga in Academia

Sunday
- Directors Panel [or] Breaking Into Anime Journalism [or] Convention Feedback Session
- Crunchyroll Panel [or] SPJA Board of Directors Panel
- The Problem with Otaku
- Production I.G.
- Closing Ceremonies

Also, I’m still scheduled to speak on a number of panels at Otakon, so if you’re not available to fly out to California this week, I’ll see you in Baltimore!

This discussion assumes familiarity with kawaii and moé terms.

In certain situations, one might comprehend an overlap in feelings of moé and kawaii. Similarly, differences exist, constrained by unique perception of visual characteristics.

However, distinctions between moé and kawaii might also be perceived in social dichotomies, more definitely that between physical space, by which I mean specifically the opposition of Akihabara and Shibuya.

Ressentiment, by Kengo Hanazawa

For most, it is common knowledge that Akihabara (秋葉原) is the major electronics district of Tokyo and the Kanto region (Nipponbashi, or Denden Town, being the equivalent of Osaka and the Kansai region), while Shibuya (渋谷) remains the hotspot of trendy Tokyo street fashion (Shibuya contains the vast shopping district Harajuku). How might we characterize these differences as qualities of each respective landscape?

The comparison above attempts to illustrate immediate differences in the functions of each area. However, if you are unread in the history of Akihabara, it was once the popular district for popular commercial goods (starting with refrigerators and televisions in the post-war period, then moving later to computers and other technical supplies/parts). It might be said that Japan moved from the need of objects (physical, owned items) to the need of images (fashion; personal embellishment), and such evolution led to a movement over time of trendy commercialization from Akihabara to Shibuya (a movement about which is joked in the Ressentiment excerpt above). Nowadays, though, Akiba is not thought of as the popular commercial sector so much as is Shibuya.

The level of commercial quality with respect of geography plays primarily into this discussion of 萌えの感じ and 可愛い感じ (feelings of moé and kawaii, respectively). In fact, trends, fashion, and commercialism has factored into discussions of the otaku lifestyle since 1983, when the term otaku first appeared in print media. Nakamori Aiko’s “Otaku Studies” discusses fan fashion of the ’80s in detail:

髪型は七三の長髪でボサボサか、キョーフの刈り上げ坊っちゃん刈り。イトーヨーカドーや西友でママに買ってきて貰った980円1980円均一のシャツやスラックスを小粋に着こなし、数年前はやったＲのマークのリーガルのニセ物スニーカーはいて、ショルダーバッグをパンパンにふくらませてヨタヨタやってくるんだよ、これが。それで栄養のいき届いてないようなガリガリか、銀ブチメガネのつるを額に喰い込ませて笑う白ブタかてな感じで、女なんかはオカッパでたいがいは太ってて、丸太ん棒みたいな太い足を白いハイソックスで包んでたりするんだよね。- Manga Burikko

Rumpled long hair parted on one side, or a classic kiddie bowl-cut look. Smartly clad in shirts and slacks their mothers bought off the “all ¥980/1980” rack at Ito Yokado or Seiyu [discount retailers], their feet shod in knock-offs of the “R”-branded Regal sneakers that were popular several seasons ago, their shoulder bags bulging and sagging — you know them. The boys were all either skin and bones as if borderline malnourished, or squealing piggies with faces so chubby the arms of their silver-plated eyeglasses were in danger of disappearing into the sides of their brow; all of the girls sported bobbed hair and most were overweight, their tubby, tree-like legs stuffed into long white socks. – Translation by Matt Alt

Even more helpful is Volker Grassmuck’s essay on otaku lifestyle, in which he explains the generational moniker 新人類 (shinjinrui), the oppositional force of otakudom.

Those shinjinrui were college or professional kids in their twenties. Quite different from otaku they put a strong emphasis – and spend a lot of money – on glossy outward appearance. They preferably have jobs in modelling or advertising which earn them enough money and leave them enough time for their main source of pleasure: showing off luxury goods and fast cars. The latest hit among them is a left-arm suntan, because it signals that this ‘girl’ or ‘boy’ drives a left-wheel import car. The shinjinrui were also called ‘cristal-kids’, after TANAKA Yasuo’s award-winning best-seller Nantonaku, Kuristaru (Tokyo 1980. engl. as “Somehow Cristal”) which became a sort of Yuppy-guide to Tokyo’s ‘in’ restaurants, boutiques, and clubs, a How-to instruction on being hip. It first appeared 1980 in the monthly journal “The Arts” (bungei) and was imediately republished as a book which sold more than one million copies. Tanaka gives us an extensive inside view of the joyful life in empty forms. A life in which one truly and explicitly cherishes snobbery and affectation. His plot “verges on nonexistence” (Norma Field), but in 442 notes he boasts with all the information the trendy hyper- consumer needs. Example: Where do you go on a saturday night after elven if the desire for icecream overcomes you? Answer: Take a taxi to Swensen`s on “Killer” Avenue. Because of the rapid change in fashion, most of the information was, of course, outdated the moment “Somehow Cristal” hit the masses. Though other info bits are here to stay. Through the shinjinrui, for example, the Japanese language was lastingly enriched by the ‘brand name syndrome’ – I’m alone, but not lonely: Japanese Otaku-Kids colonize the Realm of Information and Media, A Tale of Sex and Crime from a faraway Place

In a basic form, Nakamori illustrates the otaku as unfashionable, perpendicular to the shinjinrui of the time. In terms of hometown, or today more commonly “mecca,” Akihabara houses the otaku and Shibuya the (contemporarily-defunct?) shinjinrui. Those following trends obsess over fashion, while those on the fringe obsess over fantastic images — both, of course, consumed by the desire to harness information.

But where does kawaii and moé fit into all this? Ultimately, it is codified in the functions of fashion.

Fashion is about novelty, or if not that then the return to a regulated state of imaginative materialism (ie., the resurgence of decade-identified images, eg. 1920s flapper, or more generally the 1980s). Toward the former, street fashion, the hottest new item; toward the latter, specific to Japan, the shift to Uniqlo. However, these two elements make up fashion, so what about unfashion? It is the strict, unchanging form, easily approachable, never conservative because it is forever conserved. In some respects the unfashionable is a fashion, yet cannot truly be called fashion because it does not change. Fashion strives on and depends on moods.

Kawaii is fashionable. Moé is not.

Moé is the unconscious reaction against the commercialization of desire.

Moé is a style in that it is forever static. Contrarily, kawaii depends on fluctuation to survive. When we consider kawaii, the essence of cuteness, we see something that is novel, hence different, thence it makes an impression which we call cute. If the encounter is not novel, a reaction might be to remark it as cute, yet it loses a significant amount of pure authenticity. Kawaii culture endures as fashion changes, forever supplying the mind with novel images which may be considered cute. Oppositely, the moé style never deviates, never evolves. Otaku, then, find familiarity in the moé image, a maternal affection (according to Ken Akamatsu) that humbles the otaku soul.

It is entirely possible for an outsider to consider a moé-centric object or personage to be kawaii. However, the knowledgeable otaku understands the moé image. On the other hand, comprehension of kawaii depends entirely on consideration of the image, instead of recognition.

Japan’s Ambassadors of Cute – Q: Kawaii or moé?

Neojapanisme’s recent article on the misrepresentation of fujoshi inspired the initial thoughts on this article and continues to lend meaning to the understanding of the static moé image. The Fujoshi Syndicate’s なぜ、腐女子は男尊女卑なのか？ attempts to reconcile the image of the Akiba-kei (秋葉系) maid with a male understanding of femininity. Too true. This maid image relies mostly on the moé style, though in ways it reacts against it, by offering new designs of dress, on occasion. However, fundamentally, the maid is a static image in the masculine-dominant otaku culture. Perhaps this reliance on the moé image accounts for the lack of sex in Akihabara. Shibuya boasts 道玄坂, but Akihabara lacks the space for true sexual acts, instead providing a sexualized culture, imposed by reliance on the static worldview of moé.

The ultimate paradox inherent to this discussion lies in the relationship of kawaii and moé images to the respective geographical homestead. At heart, Akihabara retains a do-it-yourself culture, defined by the aim to create something out of disparate parts sold on street corners, reliant on self innovation and imagination. Alas, the ubiquity of 萌え deflects this culture sustained by self-reliance. Similarly, the Shibuya fashion culture thrives in commercialism, broadcast by designers and department stores to the masses. Yet kawaii is kept alive in the creation of the new, as the populace innovates fashion out of inflicted “fashion.”

Perhaps in truth moé ultimately is defined by the (new) 秋葉系, a style defined by its territory. Is its future, though, doubtful?