{"id":5845,"date":"2011-06-02T09:00:05","date_gmt":"2011-06-02T08:00:05","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.badreputation.org.uk\/?p=5845"},"modified":"2011-06-02T09:00:05","modified_gmt":"2011-06-02T08:00:05","slug":"how-an-anime-made-me-a-feminist-by-markgraf-aged-24-and-a-bit","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/badreputation.org.uk\/2011\/06\/02\/how-an-anime-made-me-a-feminist-by-markgraf-aged-24-and-a-bit\/","title":{"rendered":"How An Anime Made Me A Feminist, by Markgraf aged 24 and a bit"},"content":{"rendered":"
Team BadRep were sent a writing prompt this month:
What is your favourite film or TV series, and why? If it’s what
you’d call ‘feminist-friendly’, what about it appealed?
If it isn’t, how does that work for you, and are there nonetheless
scenes, characters and so on that have stayed with you and continue to
occupy a soft spot for you as a feminist pop culture
adventurer?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n Now
stop asking such awkward questions.<\/p><\/div>\n
Gather ’round, Internet; let me tell you the tale of how I became
a feminist. It’s a good one, I promise. Take a seat, please! Open
your mind-hatch and brace yourselves for my infosquirt.<\/p>\n
(How many articles have I opened like that? ALL OF THEM)<\/p>\n
I discovered that I was a feminist at university. I was nineteen. It
took an enthusiastic, fiery, inspirational woman with icy blonde hair
and a stack of books about gender and queer theory explaining to my
class that feminism was, you know,
Feminism<\/em>, and not, in fact, the exclusive reserve of
stereotypical humourless Second Wave womyn-born-womyn fanatics.<\/p>\n
This came as a great relief to little transgender me, and
highlighted that everything I thought about sexuality, gender
expression and the nature of equality neatly fitted under the
feminist banner. What a relief! So that made me a feminist, because
I held those views. And those beliefs were almost unanimously
implanted in my psyche by an anime called Revolutionary Girl Utena<\/strong><\/a> at the age of about
fifteen.<\/p>\n They love each other very much. Did I
mention how gorgeous this series is?<\/p><\/div>\n
An anime? <\/em>I hear you cry! An
anime?<\/em> Being
feminist?<\/em> An
anim\u00e9?<\/em>, your incredulous cries ring loud
through the intertubes to my desk, what, the Japanese
cartoons that are full of the degradation and
exploitation of women, where the source material
contains less-than-consensual sex and the American dubs
sanitise out all the lesbianism?
Surely<\/em> not.<\/p>\n Where did all this incest
come from?:(<\/p><\/div>\n
Well, actually, yes. It’s true as treacle.
Readers who’ve seen it will already know why,
of course, but let’s take this from the top
– be warned, people who haven’t seen it:
here be
spoilers<\/span>.<\/p>\n
Revolutionary Girl Utena<\/strong> is a
shoujo<\/em> (“girls'”) anim\u00e9
set in a high school. It’s all very sweet
to start with; you’ve got the hero (Utena)
and her best friend, and you’ve got the
absurdly powerful school council. And then
there’s a heavy injection of what-the-fuck
when you meet the Duelling Theme. There’s
a mechanism in place for long, convoluted
reasons, whereby selected Duellists –
designated by rings – duel (with swords)
to win the Rose Bride as a prize. Her name is
Anthy, and her entire purpose is to be a
fought-over, won-and-owned slave.<\/p>\n
So far so messed up. But it’s fucked up
for a purpose. The hero, Utena, has a prince
complex. She wants to – literally
– be a prince that rescues princesses
– that’s her gender expression.
She cross-dresses habitually and is frequently
described as “a tomboy” (despite
actually being quite femme), and she falls in
love with Anthy, primarily by wanting to save
her. The whole series is full of fluid,
ambiguous gender expression and sexuality, and
it’s treated and handled in a
non-sensational, perfectly intelligible way.
Nothing is mysterious or exotic – it is
just the way it is.<\/p>\n
The greatest thing about
Utena<\/strong>, however, is that it tells
the story of a woman who desires and
ascribes to an atypical gender expression
and her struggle to make her gender
expression
fit <\/em>and
work <\/em>in a world that is
vehemently and viciously opposed to it
–
and wins<\/em>. Sort of.
Utena’s own end (and I’m
sorry for the spoilers here) is
sacrificial and tragic, but in
sacrificing herself she saves and
liberates her friends who go on to
live and love as they want. It’s
not your average coming-of-age,
adolescence-is-hard story:
there’s pitch black themes of
rape and sexual coercion in there that
are painful and harrowing to watch,
but resolve themselves. It’s a
story of survival, but it’s not
just a story of female survival.
There’s Utena who is absolutely
not your average girl, and
there’s Mamiya and Miki, both
femme men, and survivors of the
destructive obsession of
others.<\/p>\n Mamiya<\/p><\/div>\n
So I fell madly in love with it, as
I’m sure you’ll
understand, because it was a thing
that showed me that there was hope
for me, as a trans* person, because
here was a whole series full of
atypical gender expression that
just
existed<\/em>, neither as a joke
nor as a plot point. It also
demonstrated to me me that it is
possible to fight and vanquish
your ascribed social role.
It’s a story of seeing
oppression and unfairness and
fighting it with every fibre of
your being. Utena literally gives
her life to liberate Anthy from
her sexual degradation, slavery
and torment because she cannot
live in a world that would condone
and support such condemnation.
Every time I watch the series to
the end (and it’s bloody
long!) I end up in floods of tears
and with a profound desire to
march around town shouting at
people.<\/p>\n
Usually I draw things instead.
But, you know, the
desire’s there.<\/p>\n
I absolutely recommend
Revolutionary Girl
Utena<\/strong> to you guys
– I mean, it’s not
without its problems, nothing
is – because of how
powerful and liberating it is
to watch, but I caution you
that the themes get darker
than the forgotten recesses of
hell and some bits are
genuinely hard to watch. Each
character is sympathetic, but
flawed to fuck, and no-one
emerges at the other end
untarnished – and
that’s
perfect<\/em>. Everyone
fights and is wounded,
because that’s how
life is. Everyone’s
got a streak of trauma or
viciousness in them, because
that’s how people are.
Despite its weird, fantastic
elements, it’s very
engrossing and believable
– and that’s
what makes it so effective.
It deconstructs the idea of
rigidly set, gender-ascribed
roles in an allegorical tale
full of
people<\/em>. Flawed,
understandable, hurting
people<\/em>.<\/p>\n
And that is why I am a
feminist. Because my
adolescence was spent
watching the
adolescence of Utena.
Do seek it out.
It’s incredible.
And deeply, deeply
weird, but we all love
that.<\/p>\n
Images courtesy of
Giovanna at the
fantastic Empty
Movement<\/a> Utena
fan
resource.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/a>
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