A Partition of Virtues With the consistency of oatmeal, I've managed to pick 
anime and manga that flagrantly disregard femininity as anything but a 
physiological grant of clemency for incompetence that would have any man - any 
upstanding, independent, brawny man - dragged out into the street and shot, in 
the name of eugenics.

I believe in eugenics, because... I believe in eugenics, and, really, not for 
any reasons, moral or ethical, that would clarify or justify my affinity for 
mass-slaughter. Mostly, I think stupid people suck. Still, I wonder at the 
shoujo manga standard of valiant womanhood. Manga's ideal female is, far as I 
can see, a woman whose aspiration is to be Really Nice. As somebody who is a far 
cry and a half from Really Nice, I don't relate. Diminutive, of delicate nature, 
and swathed in sweetness and light? There is one way to lose a battle, and that 
is it.

This in mind, I concede that the idea behind Really Nice characters is a time-honored 
tradition of women who triumphed because they had gawking, slobbering males to 
do the work for them. Interesting, that. Once my reign of Stalinian communism 
begins, I fully intend to encourage monogamous, dual-parent households, and, 
because I'm a sexist bint, I fully intend to encourage women to, you know, raise 
their children and stop pitching lines about how it takes a village. It takes a 
dedicated parent, too.

But enough about my brand of conservative fascism.

The generic heroine of shoujo manga is part of this time-honored tradition that 
bemuses me. As it is woven into the blanket worldview of the manga for girls, 
the message is that there is one way to win over absolutely everybody you meet, 
and that is to believe in yourself. Theoretically. Any more gas and we'd have a 
high-flying zeppelin. It must be reasoned, however, that ideals have nothing to 
do with reality, and anyone who hopes to attain status as an ideal is grasping 
at dreams sullied by generations spent fading and gathering the grime of 
abandonment. If you honestly think Touru Honda is the woman all women should be, 
or want to be, I hope your own mother clobbers you a good one and knocks you 
back into place, you ungrateful brat.

We have this extreme, though, this ludicrous opposition to the idea of a stable, 
functional woman who cooks, cleans, and whose spirit is strengthened by a woman's 
*coughhackwheeze* singular compassion. We have... Miaka Yuuki. She can't cook, 
she doesn't clean, but, oh, the compassion! She's overflowing with compassion! 
No, actually, she's overflowing with faith - not to be mistaken for reasonable 
sympathies. Nothing about Miaka is reasonable - not that it matters. See, Miaka 
believes in herself, and that's what counts in shoujo manga's perverted 
microcosm. You and I know Miaka would be accepted into a crummy high-school and 
be shunned by men above her mental station, were reality to happen onto her 
unlikely aspect of paranormality, but because she believes in herself, it all 
works out, in the end.

What's ironic is that young women of Japan are, as with the heroines, expected 
to believe in Miaka, Touru, and their ilk. The message the manga deliver is in 
stark contrast with the message of their culture, which is one of achievement. 
Miaka's achievement is that she's a deluded fool with the absurd physical and 
mental capacities to survive point-blank gunshots. Touru's achievement is that 
nobody would dare fire on her because her overripe sweetness lulls them into 
complacency. This teaches nobody anything. This says that assessing one's 
position, using one's cognitive powers to find a resolution, and regarding our 
weaknesses as valid causes for concern and not cute affections of our daytime 
personae are silly wastes of effort, and it's really best to run headfirst into 
a scenario - any scenario, who cares which? - and putz around with the same 
spiel that culminated in tears those others times that don't count because they 
disagree with a philosophy that only June Cleaver could love. At least June 
could keep her house clean and her groceries edible. I'd like to see Miaka do 
that. What we're down to, is that Miaka has no redeeming qualities. Redemption 
is not in the fantastic. That these heroines elude consequences through the 
tastelessly hyped niceness and gentleness is - pardon my saying so - an insult 
to any reader's intelligence.

I'm not unaware that this philosophy, and consequent ideal, are to reassure 
Japan's young women that there is hope yet for them. If Miaka can make it, 
anybody can! Viewpoint characters are disappointing, in that regard. It is, if 
the relativists will pardon my saying so, a dangerous presentation to sell to 
adolescent girls. At a time when girls' self-esteem is apt to plummet over a 
rumor that could have been whispered or an exam that could have been improved, 
this bilge is the damageous hallmark of a false sense of security. People will 
like you if you're nice, but being nice doesn't earn wages - especially not if 
your niceness is overcompensation for lack of qualities integral to success in 
business and personal affairs. The moral of these stories is not one that can be 
used in real life, and what good is a moral that is diametrically opposed to the 
lives of those who value it?

return to a thousand pardons