Twelve Thingies: Do your homework.

Part of the 12 Anime Moments of 2009, and the horse it rode in on.

2009 was a big year for anime for one solid reason: Haruhi returned. Long baited, teased, and ridiculed, fans of the 2000s’ biggest series were finally rewarded for their patience. Turns out, they weren’t rewarded all that well, but at least we got the wonderfully entertaining Haruhi-chan and Nyoron Churuya-san.

Of the things that made the return noteworthy — drops in animation quality, the near-punching of the titular (anti-)heroine, or the introduction of the book series’ central time-travel themes — one stands above: Endless Eight. Is it another troll on the fans? They certainly have reason to think that way after their treatment by Vengeful God Kadokawa. Is it a failed attempt to be clever? Who knows. It’s almost avant-garde when you think about it. No one’s ever done anything like it. But in the end, I think it was brilliant. Not just the fact that it was done, but in its execution.

See, by the close of Endless Eight (which did, in fact have an end, and that’s what makes it a ripoff), viewers were micro-focused on changes in outfits, slight variations on the dialog, and Kyon’s minute advances. So when the brain-snapping end finally came, the force of your fist in the air was enough to raise you out of your seat.

haruhi: endless end

Was it, in combination with the “Sighs of Haruhi Suzumiya” story, enough to gain back the goodwill lost during the most experimental anime arc of the century? Doesn’t seem that way. Maybe the movie version of Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya, one of the most well-liked stories, will fix that. Hard to say. But love Endless Eight or hate it, at least it gave us this moment.

Pervasive wrongness in the Haruhisphere

I was going to write an entire post on all the reasons why Haruhi haters are in the wrong, or at least why so many aren’t using their brains. But for the most part, my arguments were boring and I want people to actually read my blog on occasion. So I’m limiting it to one particular issue — and it should work because it can be applied just as easily to the mindless fanboys on the opposite side of the fence.

you're wrong

Allow me to work my way towards my point step-by-step:

What is a parody?

There are a lot of anime adaptations of light novel series. Like manga, they seem tailor-made for it narrative-wise. Unlike manga, they leave a lot more room for interpretation. A great adaptation, whether it’s TV, theater, animation, or cinema, is like a great cover song in the musical world: It stays true to the intent or spirit of the original, but it adds something that makes the adaptation viable as an original work.

Tatsuya Ishihara and Kyoto Animation added plenty of well-realized visuals and clever directing, but more than that, the anime crew gave us the idea of Haruhi Suzumiya as a smart, tongue-in-cheek meta-anime — a commentary on the medium and a very sly parody of some of its tropes. The last time I can remember something similar so masterfully executed was the king of the meta-anime-parody Martian Successor Nadesico. And the parallels are there, to be sure: like her counterpart and equivalent Ruri, Yuki Nagato became more than just a thinly-disguised spoof of anime’s light-blue-haired monotone heroines.

ruri, just because

Since I came at Haruhi from the anime angle first, and Tanigawa’s books later, the crafty little parody aspects of the show hit me harder than some of the story or character elements. Think of episode zero for a minute. How often do you groan and hear Kyon’s voiceover in your head when you see an anime pan up to the sky?

What is moe?

ANN defines moe as:

A Japanese term used in connection with manga or anime to describe something precious, usually (but not always) the ideal of youthful and innocent femininity. Written with the kanji for “to bud or sprout” (萌), the concept covers a range of ideal behaviour for youthful female characters in manga or anime. To be moe, a character can be eager or perky, not overly independent, and call forth a desire in the viewer to protect them and nurture them.

I would have also accepted “the cancer that’s killing anime.”

blobbing

The issue of moe-ness is in itself contentious enough, since people seem to get their moe on for everything from lolis to Valkyries, but far worse is the accusation of “moe pandering.”

That term is generally used by mouth-breathers who learned the definition of “pandering” yesterday to try to invalidate the target at which it’s aimed, e.g.:

“There’s really no merit in [K-ON/Saki/Ranka/Kanon/Strike Witches/Mazinger Z], because it’s moe pandering.”

There’s no doubt that moe sells DVDs (and oppai mousepads and castoff figures and doujins and maid cafes and…), so the Uguu Menace finds its way into even the most unlikely anime these days. But the anihedron has become a dangerously thoughtless place because we see a couple characteristics of female characters and instantly accuse a show of “moe pandering.”

It can be a really harmful charge to level at an otherwise competently put together series, but more importantly it’s a reactionary judgment that arrives at the expense of real critical thinking. And while you’re having your knee-jerk, something else might be going on.

babbling

In Haruhi’s case, that something else is a walking piss-take on moe. Its name is Mikuru Asahina.

What is Mikuru?

It wasn’t always obvious what Mikuru was. I suppose I first noticed when, I dunno, I was told fairly blatantly. Haruhi’s original molestation of Mikuru included an announcement of just how moe she was, and while I guess some people see the interaction as “pandering” (an accusation that continued to get lobbed at Lucky Star’s self-referential humor), it sounded to me like the fourth wall breaking down. They even put her in a maid costume for no fucking reason. Come on.

cowering

To me, the more blobby and cowering she gets, the funnier it is. To me, the creators’ smirks are as obvious as Koizumi’s. To me, it’s a great way to make your detractors look more idiotic, even as  — here’s the rub — on one level, they might be right. For the parody to work really well, it has to be effective on its own level, and to a certain viewer class I suppose it is. But Mikuru’s a long way removed from Makoto, Misuzu, or the perpetually sickly Nagisa.

sleeping

I suppose there’s always ghostlightning’s old argument that intent is irrelevant because the only thing that matters to a final product is whatever inference the viewer/reader puts into a work. That angle would say that it’s a parody because I see it that way, while it’s pandering because someone else sees it that way.

As he knows, I don’t really buy that to any large extent — in fact, I’m willing to just say that you’re wrong and you’ve missed the point entirely. It seems as clear as the furrows on Kyon’s brow. It’s like listening to Weird Al’s “Eat It” in the 80s and saying to yourself, “I don’t get why that guy is trying so hard to cash in on Michael Jackson’s stardom by covering one of his songs.”

But. My primary point renders the argument of “Am I right about parody?” irrelevant.

What is my point?

I think when Owen S. calls people “memeparrots,” he’s referring to certain parties on either side. That means easy bandwagoning or mindless echoing of popular bloggers’ forced memes. It also means tossing unsupported accusations like “moe pandering” out there. As I like to say, absolutes are always wrong. :P

While Haruhi is quite clever, it can do wrong. Lone Island Syndrome? Kinda lame, and I hope they don’t animate its ski-trip counterpart. On the flipside, pandering does exist, but I doubt it’s the basis of everything Kyoto Animation does. I’ll give haters this: Fumoffu?! seriously pandered to my machine gun teddy-bear moe.

Dig? All coins have two sides, including Haruhi, who is at turns both God and the Devil.

haruhi is not amused

This isn’t just about Mikuru, and it isn’t just about “Bamboo Leaf Rhapsody,” or Haruhi Suzumiya. It’s about seeing things as a little more than their topmost dimension. It’s also about thinking, viewing, judging and most of all enjoying or disliking for yourself rather than sheeping your way to one side or another of an internet argument.

I’m so excited… I’m so scared

Well. There it is. Confirmation. Haruhi’s new run includes new episodes. Sad that there will be no pure reaction this time around. Everything will be tainted by backlash, fanboying, Kyoto Animation hate, Kadokawa’s seemingly-endless baiting, who knows what else — but most of all, by expectations.

I won’t be watching until subs exist, but I’m not gonna lie: I’m ready. I want to see it, and I have high hopes.

For those who don’t get the title reference…