Japanese Pop Culture: The Manga Kissa

 
The manga kissa of Japan sits as a distinct combination of vast manga (comic) library, internet café, and semi-private oasis nestled in the urban sprawl of cities such as Osaka and Tokyo. In the United States the concept of the “third space” (recently promoted by Starbucks) is a close parallel to the embodiment of the manga kissa idea as a home-away-from-home; though the Japanese version notably lacks most of the prominent social aspects found in Oldenburg and Brissett’s conception. Instead it is a sober and silent refuge from the noise of the city, and social pressures that regulate one’s daily life in Japanese society.

The aisles of manga are neatly kept, and each book is individually unassuming, yet visually staggering in their collective totality. Despite having been read dozens if not hundreds or even thousands of times, they show little to no signs of abuse or neglect. Courtesy for others is shown more solemnly through action, and verbal posturing is rarely necessary. Patrons are predominantly men, both young and old, student and office worker alike. Women too are a part of the manga kissa, and a substantial selection of shoujo (girls’ comics) targeted at young women is available as well. Their emphasis on interpersonal relations contrasts with the dominant action and humor themes of shounen (boys’ comics). These are gendered themes in the arc of Japanese life, prominent even in early education.

As a cultural icon, manga in Japan is ubiquitous and considered by many an important aspect of Japanese culture. The manga kissa is, however, only a single element of that larger pop culture phenomenon. While it creates a liminal space in which visitors may escape social reality, it simultaneously reinforces that reality (culturally) through parody and emulation in stories. Patrons may for a brief moment escape society in order to view it from a distance, to distort it and reshape it, before rejoining it once again.

Neighborhood (in) Hirakata

 
The history of Hirakata, Japan in is neither grand, nor well-known. When asked about the area many fellow Japanese students were at odds to think of anything noteworthy. Its history, after all, is a modest story of farming community turned city, often droned verbatim in study abroad brochures^[1][2]:

[Hirakata], which had been previously known as a suburban farming village, has been gradually transformed into a modern residential city. Again, in recent years, six universities have been established in Hirakata and the city aims to create a new image for the 21st century as a "university city". (Hirakata City Website)

An affinity for growing things of all kinds is expressed openly here. Many residents keep small vegetable or flower gardens in their yards. The planters and pots at times overflow the yard and invade the streets. A large swath of rice fields and vegetable gardens cuts between my suburban neighborhood and several primary schools where children spend most of their days. It seems any open space is suitable for a garden, be it a rice paddy in a parking lot, or a back-alley herb garden.

Around my residence the tidy narrow streets are often absent of human activity, save for the occasional aged resident neatly cleaning the area around their home. In the morning and late afternoon college students walk and ride bicycles along common streets to and from classes. Less common, though, is seeing children playing in one of the numerous small playgrounds, each marked with a large metal slide – sometimes the only structure in the entire area. I wonder why so many playgrounds are in this area, if so few are being used.

Although Hirakata is a growing city with its six universities the local residents have not abandoned their modest farming heritage. Indeed, at least one of the local groceries features a section of locally grown rice, reminding me of the “local sustainability” initiatives from my natal home in Portland, Oregon. And so the small streets of my particular neighborhood burst with "life", though it’s not yet the life of a congested hurried city caught up in moving. It is the intersection of an older way of life with an approaching newer way of life, a liminal phase in this area’s history perhaps. Thus the quiescent slumbering atmosphere of my neighborhood still reflects the modest history I’ve been able to uncover thus far.

Early Impressions of Japan

 

First impressions are sometimes difficult to ascertain. Not necessarily because we do not know what we are thinking all the time, but rather, we do not always understand what we are seeing. Can I really tell you when I was first introduced to Japanese culture? Did I even know then what I was seeing? Should I consider only the first time I studied Japan academically, or perhaps the first time I came to study in Japan? Or do I opt for my most recent introduction, to a slightly more familiar, slightly less alien Japan? … Let us go back to my first visit to Japan.

Aesthetics, the conceptions of sensory perception, have rich traditions and histories in Japanese society. These ideas – entombed in such alien terms as shibusa, wabi-sabi, yugen, miyabi, aware, etc. – are at once both cryptic and revealing: Cryptic to the untrained initiate, barely able to recognize more than a pretty scene. Powerfully revealing to the culturally trained, existing as a form of visual haiku that evokes emotion, meaning and connection between viewer and craftsman, of which nature itself is often the greatest such craftsman.

Armed with only my rudimentary understanding of Japanese aesthetics, a smattering of lectures on language, art, history and anthropology, I quickly realized just how little I knew when I first visited Japan to study at Ryukoku University. Although I could see the influences of the past, traditional style houses, historical locations and temple gardens, I found myself lost in the intricate details contained in the ideas so foreign to me. I was not alone, though, as I noted many of my new Japanese friends were also initiates to the subtleties of traditional aesthetics. Japan was alluring with its natural beauty and aesthetic traditions, yet the layers of meaning were not all visible to me, as most were barely even known to me.