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Emotional Drama in Shojo Manga (少女漫画)

NOTE: I will mostly be saying "manga" here, but I will include anime and perhaps games underneath it, so manga will just be our umbrella term for the day.


The best shōjo manga (少女漫画)—comics written for girls of all ages, from children to teenagers to adults—tend to deal with two things: girls' fantasies and girls' dark curiosities. The four Japanese/Chinese characters used to write "shōjo" directly translate as "young woman" and "drawn comic," creating the term "young women's comics." I will include anything from romantic comedies to magical girl superhero stories in this genre. Unfortunately, the public opinion of shōjo manga is similar to the one widely held about films referred to as "chick flicks," namely that the stories are fluffy, feel good, silly stories that exist only to make girls laugh, cry a little, and obtain unrealistic ideas about life. While this is definitely true for some shōjo manga stories as well as some chick flick plots, unintelligent fluff does not define the genre. Instead, I would argue that emotion is the driving factor, powered by passion, which often leads characters to dark places before they get anywhere close to personal victory.


To start off, I will talk a little bit about what shōnen manga (少年漫画) is. In short, it is the opposite of shōjo manga because its target audience is young men and therefore is written in Japanese the same way save for one character, changing the meaning to "the younger generation's comics" or "young men's comics." The stereotypes surrounding this genre can be compared to the attitudes held towards action films filled with violence (e.g. war or sports) and raunchy humor. There is an expectation that these stories will only be entertaining to their target audience. However, the reality is that there are plenty of women who adore Band of Brothers just as there are many men who love watching A League of Their Own. Good movies will appeal to all sorts of people regardless of gender. On the other hand, middle of the road movies will only try hard enough to get a superficial laugh, cry, or shout. Both types can live on in people's hearts, but I think you can find something special in the stories truly considered to be classics. Bad movies are the ones that simply perpetuate the stereotypes.


Before I delve too far into why a particular shōjo manga might be considered a classic or touch people in some way, I will draw a further comparison between favorite shōjo and shōnen stories. Namely, the main characters. They share one certain trait across the board: there is something special about them. Please know that I understand how risky it is to make generalizations, but I think this is a trait that applies to nearly every hero you can think of, especially in manga. And this generalization may seem especially far reaching, as "something special" could mean almost anything. However, consider my proposal alongside this one: the main character is meant to be someone the audience can idenitfy or sympathize with. Another generalization is that everyone wants to be special. So, stories about special characters let us live vicariously through them. Let me present an explanation and some examples.


Sometimes that "special something" the protagonist has is apparent from the beginning. This is often true in shōnen stories, which might show the hero's life from birth with suggestions of talent scattered throughout. Consider the Dragon Ball stories with Goku as the leading man. He is easily identifiable despite not have the most striking appearance within a cast that includes a green alien, a three-eyed man, and a turquoise-haired woman; his power and personality shine through the ranks. He has a big heart and sees the world a little differently, which helps him expand his abilities. He is inherently special by being an alien and possesses great powers and strength of character, even for someone from his birth planet. His outward personality masks a deep, enviable inner strength that further manifests as physical strength. The fate of the world usually lies in his hands after everyone else fails to defeat the enemy, despite how strong they seem.


I would say that there are two main types of shōnen hero: (1) a slightly flamboyant-looking guy with a colorful, goofy, aggressive, and/or naiive-seeming personality and (2) a calm, composed guy who does not draw attention at first, unless his aloofness garners it. Both versions of the hero have an outward persona that masks the wealth of potential, knowledge, skills, and/or power within them. Goku, described above, clearly falls into the first category, as do Naruto (Naruto), Natsu (Fairy Tail), Gon (Hunter x Hunter), Aladdin (Magi), Soul Eater (Soul Eater), InuYasha (InuYasha), and Luffy (One Piece). (Interestingly, a lot of the flamboyant characters seem to have their series named after them.) On the other hand, we have the more stoic character, not including how he might act in close relationships or during combat. This category includes Edward (Fullmetal Alchemist), Ranma (Ranma 1/2), Light (DeathNote), Saitama (One Punch Man), Gintoki (Gin Tama), Kirito (Sword Art Online), Allen (D.Gray-man), Ryoma (Prince of Tennis), Himura (Rurouni Kenshin), Ichigo (Bleach), Yoh (Shaman King), Yusuke (Yu Yu Hakusho), and the Danganronpa lead guys. (I also noticed that a lot of times the main characters will have a friend or rival with the opposite hero traits, such as Luffy and Zoro in One Piece, Jin and Kōga in Zetman, or Rin and Yukio in Blue Exorcist.)


In all these cases, there is something about the character that allows us to imagine what it is like to be them. The first hero, the overly energetic one (better or worse), is someone we might not think of ourselves as, but who we can root for, who we care about. Their childishness softens the blow that they are more talented or hardworking than we are, and we live vicariously through them as a parent might. The second type of hero is, I would argue, more of an ideal that acts as an empty pair of shoes for us to slip on. (It also represents something of the quieter, cowboy-ish "true man" persona of, say, Harrison Ford or Brad Pitt.) Of course, in all the best cases, the heroes have more depth than a cut-and-paste child or pair of shoes. They will be extroverts or introverts, but at the end of the day they will be the hero we will root for one way or another.


Touching back on the empty shoes idea, there is a "one size fits all" type of guy that is utilized mostly in the harem and ecchi manga genres within shōnen. Their unassuming appearance and personality goes beyond that of the stoic hero. These nice guy main characters share so many traits with each other that they could sometimes just be swapped out between stories. Within this category, the personalities seem to swing between "perverted nice guy" and "reliable when necessary." This includes Rin (Shuffle!), Keitarō (Love Hina), Keiichi (Oh My Goddess!), Rito (To Love-Ru), Yota (Video Girl Ai), Kyon (The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya), Yukinari (Girls Bravo), Kimihito (Everyday Life with Monster Girls), Kamijou (Toaru Majutsu no Index), and Takeya (DearS).. Almost always these guys will be average looking and have basic black hair. Despite being seemingly nothing special, these guys have one very special girl, if not dozens of amazing girls, interested in them! The main character has to be likeable to the point of being a living idea while also generic enough to let audiences imagine themselves in his situation.


Shōnen heroes fall into categories centering around the main character's important role within the story. Something about them is special enough to drive major plot points, battle outcomes, and romantic infatuations. Enemies underestimate them, only to be knocked down, and friends adore them despite any flaws. They are the one, they are the key, they are the unexpected hero for one reason or another. Are shōjo heroines similar?


Yes. Although their goals often differ, female leads are perfect in the same way the male leads are: they are inherently special. In fact, they are so special that their potential alone is impressive, in most cases. They are usually hardworking, determined, and motivated in the right ways at the right times, but we all know that they would still be special without doing a single thing. This allows for some wiggle room for the audience when they put on those imaginary shoes. They do not have to be the hardest working to know that, deep down, they are worthy of titles and adoration. It lets us feel like we, too, would be on top of the world if only we were in such a situation that would bring out our true potential.


So, what is the point? It is pretty easy to see why people enjoy stories about crazy battles, tournaments, pretty girls, and the hero's struggle like you see in shōnen manga. What draws people to shōjo stories when they could be reading shōnen? The conflicts sometimes center around saving the world, but so often the purpose of the story is to bring the heroine together with her true love. Well, I would argue that you see many the same exciting things in shōjo manga as as you do in shōnen, just in a different form.


To start off with, how does the audience place themselves into the shoes of a leading lady? Well, in almost the exact same way they do with leading men, there are two categories: (1) the energetic, eager-to-please, sometimes childish, adorable girl experiencing the world and (2) the oberservant and composed but kind-hearted protagonist. Group one, which is most typical, includes Amu (Shugo Chara!), Mizuki (Hana-Kimi), Maya (Glass Mask), Tsukushi (Boys Over Flowers), Hotaru (Wish), Miki (Marmalade Boy), Kyoko (Skip Beat!), Tohru (Fruits Basket), Sawako (Kimi ni Todoke), Riiko (Absolute Boyfriend), Momo (Peach Girl), and Sora (Kaleido Star). On the other hand, in group two, we have Kiri (Beauty Pop), Emma (Emma), Haruhi (Ouran High School Host Club), Riku (Cinderella Boy), and Kira (Mars). (Once again, there are sometimes "opposites attract" friendships like the two women in Nana, Ayu and Nina from Ultra Maniac, and Sakura and Tomoyo in Cardcaptor Sakura.)


The shōjo equivalent of the ecchi or harem genre might be the magical girl genre, at least in terms of swappable main characters. The leading ladies follow certain patterns like the male ones, having both similar appearances and personalities. They are either the "hardworking nice girl" or the "loveable clutz," in most cases. Their appearance along with their role in the magical girl storylines (see next paragraph) sets them a little apart, but the similiarities can be striking. Rather than average looking, they will often stand out with brightly colored hair, pigtails, and distinctive jewelry. This subgenre's heroes inlcude Usagi (Sailor Moon), Ichigo (Tokyo Mew Mew), Sakura (Cardcaptor Sakura), Maron (Phantom Thief Jeanne), and many others. Again, the point is that girls can imagine themselves in any of these roles, gaining superpowers, dressing in adorable battle armor, and saving the world while also falling in love. ("Fighting evil by moonlight / Winning love by daylight") The shōnen harem storylines are aimed at teenagers and adults while magical girls are for children and teenagers. Feeling like the main character in a shōjo is a bit like playing dress-up, imagining that you too have blonde pigtails and a frilly pink battle uniform.


A lot of shōjo plot points also mirror shōnen manga stories. For example, any fantastical story will feature the main character's struggles while they are receiving their powers, training with them, learning to battle, and triumphing over evils. Dragon Ball Z and Sailor Moon both feature long plots, groups of fighting friends, and world-threatening enemies. Both lead characters discover that they not the same as other people—Goku is an alien and Usagi is a reincarnated lunar princess—and use their powers for the good of their adopted world. They are ditzy, but their friends know they will do anything for them, and they end up with a powerful spouse (although not as powerful as they are) who they have children with. (One marked difference might be that Sailor Moon's beau continues to be part of the action while Goku's wife takes a backseat in order to raise their son. I will touch on this point later. For now I will say that this lack of involvement of female characters in the fighting might be part of why girls do not gravitate towards a lot of shōnen stories.)


There is also a similarity between shōnen and shōjo main characters who are, essentially, normal. They are swept up into crazy circumstances and what is the most important thing they discover? Recognition. It is not always for something they have done. Often it is for who they are. Once again, there is something special about them that draws the eyes of a special someone even when there are more attractive people around. Harem, ecchi, and romance stories all work like this. Perhaps the more raunchy stories go overboard, since the main character is recognized as being special over and over and over again, but the base idea is the same. Readers like these stories because they would also like to be loved and adored without needing to be the best looking, the most talented, or the wealthiest.

What really sets shōjo apart from shōnen, however, is the emotional aspect. This brings me back to what I said before about fantasies and dark curiosities, and to discuss this I will talk mostly about romantic shōjo manga, which is what defines the genre in most people's eyes. (I do not need to explain why a child feels powerful when they brandish a sword or a wand, but I do need to talk about why they would choose to play house.) What might surprise those people who do not read shōjo is that many of the plots take dark turns at one point or another. While comparing them to the roller coaster ride of a soap opera paints an overly dramatic picture, drama is a staple part of shōjo. Emotional ups and downs are important to romantic stories in comics, just as they are in a tournament manga like Shaman King. The audience is supposed to always be on their toes, wondering how the hero will get out of this one. Even though the hero might be trying to win someone's love or approval and not looking for an opening in a martial arts duel, they are still working through the trials and tribulations of life, striving for the life they desire. This is not to say that shōnen stories do not feature emotional suffering, but it is not what the stories become known for. The shōjo genre can more easily advertise the importance of the emotions within, as the one advantage of being stereotyped is that they can be honest. For example, Berserk is known for being a gritty, heart-wrenching story, but the struggle through battle is what is advertised, rather than the battle with one's mental health and feelings of loss.


The fantasy aspect of shōjo pretty much speaks for itself; everyone knows that kids read stories about princesses, knights, and mermaids because they wish they were in that world. That is the whole reason why we played pretend as children, and why we so enjoy reading romance comics as adults. We like thinking—fantasizing—about what it would be like for a handsome guy to notice us in a crowd or the like. However, "fantasy" does not cover the dark curiosities side, the "what if" of horror, battle, and struggle. Characters in books are like ourselves in dreams; they let us explore forbidden worlds without consequence.


An uncomfortable example of a dark curiosity is incest. Let's start with the question of step siblings. Cherry Juice and The Devil Does Exist both tackle this topic. In both cases, the female and male lead find themselves living in the same house as step siblings, and at first there is a lot of fighting. In both stories the male lead realizes early on that he harbors romantic feelings for the girl who should be just his sister, and the antics of the story ensue. The Devil Does Exist is similar to Boys Over Flowers because the male lead starts off as something of a bully to the female lead, making their road to romance even more challenging. Taking it a step farther, Vampire Knight and Marmalade Boy both deal with the incest taboo directly. The story of Vampire Knight centers around a human girl at a vampire school where she gets caught up in a love triangle, only to discover that she is actually the blood-related sibling of the guy she has admired for years. On top of that, she was born in large part to be his mate and keep the family bloodline pure. Even when the topic is not specifically incest, shōjo stories like to push the conventional envelope. Mars is a great story, but more adult since it covers subjects including rape, plagerism, suicide, disability, and mental illness.


Shōjo is a well-loved genre because it is an emotional rollercoaster. The constant twists, turns, and shocks are what really carry you along. And, in my opinion, shōnen manga is the same even though the emotions may be a little different, focusing on something like rage rather than, say, unrequited love. What really drives both genres is the determination and passion of the lead character(s), especially when they are very special. And both genres love comedy. However, both genres have one standout flaw that I must address.


Needless to say, shōjo protagonists are usually girls and shōnen protagonists are usually boys. In both cases there may be very prominent characters of the opposite sex present, but the main character generally carries the weight of the show and drives the demographic. If that character is not likeable, or if you cannot even put yourselves in their shoes to imagine you are living their life, then the show is no fun. If you cannot feel for them or like them, there is no point, and so the gender of the heroes matches the demographic. (Otoman and My Love Story are exceptions, but the main theme in both is love and dating. Claymore is a shōnen example.) There are two side effects of this fact that I want to talk about: 1) shōnen features a less diverse gender cast and 2) shōjo often has dangerous elements within the romances.


I mentioned that stories about a hero of one gender will always have at least one supporting cast member from the other gender. Unfortunately, in shōnen manga, that usually means there are just a couple female characters floating around in a sea of men. One Punch Man is a good example of an excellent story with almost no female role models. The ones you see are strong, yes, but the fact that there are so few of them makes them see like exceptions to the rule: women are not as strong as men. And, physically, this is true more often than not, but the reality is that in the imaginary world of manga the characters can be as strong as they are written. I feel like writers try to avoid having stereotypical female characters by making the few that they do have ultra powerful or super compassionate. Unfortunately, I think this backfires. Once again, by being so powerful, it seems like these women are exceptions to the rule. They were allowed into the men's circle only because they were exceptionally strong. They needed to be stronger than most men to be seen as equals to the average men. Looking back at One Punch Man, a story about superheroes, the only female heroes who get much attention are a pair of psychic sisters. While they are enjoyable, their powers come from something they have no control over: the abilities they were born with. This is in stark contrast with the male heroes, whose powers are almost all based on hard work and/or intelligence. It does not help that both sisters can be pretty bratty. In just one show, this sort of thing is not a big deal, but you see it consistently. One Piece has only two girls on the main team, as does D.Gray-man. The main female character in Death Note is constantly manipulated. Full Metal Alchemist features some cool ladies, but not very many of them and they rarely travel with the main characters. The girl in Prince of Tennis is basically a cheerleader for the hero, a lens for the audience to see through. In short, it can be hard for girls to see themselves as powerful because the cool stories about tournaments and epic power struggles usually keep the female characters on the sidelines of the fight or the plot.


I once read something online explaining that guys who ask their girlfriends to act as their mages in videogames are showing a great deal of trust by doing so, because they are depending on the mage to heal them and save their lives. However, the message comes off a little differently when you hear it over and over again. It sounds a bit more like the team only trusts you to be the medic; they do not trust you to fight alongside them as an equal. They want to you to stay out of the way, stay alive, and wait for them to come stumbling back. It is one thing to intellectually know that the medic is the real hero, but it is another to think that no one thinks you could be a battle hero. A man might take it as an affront to his manliness. A woman might take it as her cue to leave the game altogether. It is hard to prove yourself when the message you hear is that you are not wanted. (Avatar: The Last Airbender is much better about giving the girls fighting time, as well as having lots of female characters.) One film example is Hancock, in which the male superhuman gets a life of crime fighting while the female superhuman chooses to be a housewife. Once, no problem! Many dozens of times, and you begin to think that there is no such thing as a female president.


Now let's take a look at shōjo manga's cast diversity. For the most part, it is much more balanced. A lot of times the main group of girls will be accompanied by almost as many boys. For example, Tokyo Mew Mew is about five girl superheroes, but almost all the other important characters are guys: the scientist, the caregiver, the boyfriend/prince, and the three villains. Marmalade Boy is almost split right down the middle, all the way from the parents to the friends. You can also see this in Phantom Thief Jeanne, Wish, Emma, and others. One big reason for the even splits is definitely the romantic factor, as straight couples are the norm for shōjo fantasies, and there have to be enough characters to pair off or struggle against each other. I know some people really dislike shōjo manga because of this annoying habit of making sure all the characters have a lover by the end, which is basically how Naruto Shippuden ended, but in terms of getting a diverse cast it can be an advantage. (There are exceptions to the rule such as Soul Eater, which you could argue has two protagonists: one a boy, the other a girl. However, it follows the shōjo rule that there is an equal number of boys and girls because they are paired off in some way, so the point stands.) On top of that, since the girls get the most attention, their thoughts, feelings, and fears are more fleshed out, giving girls in the audience stronger role models than they see in shōnen. On top of that, due to the need for romance, the male characters also have time to develop outside of the stereotypes. The stories need reasons for the characters to fall in love beyond good looks, which can feel like a driving factor in a lot of shōnen plots with female characters whose biggest assets are their breasts and cooking skills. (Please note that this opinion is coming from someone who actually really enjoys harem stories.)


As for the actual romances in shōjo manga, we need to go forth with caution. This genre is an exploration of fantasies and fears. Taboos are discussed, dark pasts are revealed, and forbidden romances bloom. As such, less than ideal situations often lead to deep love that, in real life, might be a bit appalling. To explain this in detail, as well as touch back on the gender diversity of the cast, I will look to two stories: Marmalade Boy and Glass Mask.


Marmalade Boy (1990's) is a classic and a perfect example of what a crazy ride shōjo can be. The story is about a girl named Miki who is pretty good at tennis and is pretty cute, but otherwise does not stand out as much as her gorgeous, rich, and smart best friend Meiko. Her world is turned upside-down when her parents announce that 1) they are divorcing, 2) they are both remarrying another couple they met on vacation, 3) Miki will have a step-brother named Yuu, and 4) both families are moving in together. From there, dark secrets begin to be revealed. Yuu, who is very handsome but loves teasing her, kisses Miki one day when he thinks she is asleep. In the wake of this confusing event, as she begins to fall for him, Miki discovers that her best friend Ginta likes her, despite rejecting her love confession years ago. It also turns out that Meiko, who seemed so happy and perfect, has a destructive home life due to her fighting parents and is in a romantic relationship with the teacher. Then Yuu's ex-girlfriend Arimi, who is as gorgeous as he is, reappears and tries to win him back from Miki. We also learn that Yuu has reason to believe that his father is not really his biological father, although he has never been able to determine exactly who the real one is. Towards the end of the series, Miki and Yuu are happily in a secret relationship while living under the same roof as their parents. Ginta and Arimi have also gotten together. But it is all shattered when Yuu finds photographs of the four parents in college together even though they said they all met just recently for the first time on vacation. What is more, back in college they were with the partners they have now newly married. Yuu becomes convinced that he and Miki share a father, and breaks up with her without a reason. Some time later, when they are in college and Meiko is married to the teacher after starting her writing career, Miki confronts Yuu and finds out about it. They decide that they want to be together anyway and go to their parents to announce their engagement with plans not to have children. Fortunately, the parents reveal that while Yuu's mother was pregnant with a baby at the time she and Miki's father separated, she miscarried it and Yuu is one hundred percent not Miki's half brother. The series ends on a happy note, although the writer admits that she had planned on giving it a sad ending where Miki and Yuu really are siblings and must part ways, turning instead to other partners like Ginta and Meiko.


The final cover of the Marmalade Boy manga. It stands in stark contrast to the other 7 volumes, which all have pretty, smiling pictures of Miki alone on them.

(Picture found on Google Images)


This story is great partly because it has so many different types of characters dealing with their problems in different ways. Yuu and Meiko both have a tendency to internalize, bottling everything up and looking for answers on their own. They seem perfectly fine from the outside and do their best not to antagonize their parents. On the other hand, Miki and Ginta both grab the bull by the horns, confronting people face to face when they have a problem with them. Their honesty is what inevitably wins them the loves of their dreams. Even the four parents are enjoyable, and their situation back when they were in college seems to mirror the kids' current situation, what with the partner confusion and fights. (As a side note, Marmalade Boy has some good visual storytelling. The family situation is very complicated, but it is kept easy to understand by the fact that Miki and her parents have dark hair, while Yuu and his parents have light hair. This is also true of Ginta (dark hair) and Arimi (light hair). Even when the couples get all jumbled up, you can keep track of who was originally with which person.) Marmalade Boy is a solid example of a girly story with fairly solid male characters. It stands as a model for how shōjo manga can be diverse. (I will touch back on this one later.)


(Picture found on Google Images)


My second example, Glass Mask (1970's), follows Maya through the struggles of her life. She was born to poor circumstances as the daughter of a single mother who works in a Chinese restaurant and constantly berates her for being lazy, clumsy, and a bad student. She works as a delivery girl and is bullied by the owners' daughter. Her one joy in life is television and theater, to the point of leaping into the freezing river to retrieve a lost ticket, all which an old lady living nearby happens to notice. Lady Tsukikage takes Maya under her wing, promising to take her latent acting abilities and turn her into a star. She was once an actress herself, but an accident left her face terribly scarred and now she is on the hunt for someone worthy of playing the difficult role of the Crimson Goddess. Along the way, Maya astounds people with her amazing acting talent, which lies in stark contrast to her average, honest, girlish personality and appearance, and meets many friends and enemies. There is Ayumi, a wealthy girl of shocking beauty whose acting technique is unparalleled. And there is Masumi Hayami, the young leader of the powerful Daito theater corporation who is famous for having a heart of stone. Maya also has a couple boyfriends throughout the story, and friends in different acting troupes, most noticeably the ones she started with under Lady Tsukikage's supervision. She also meets many directors and executives along the way. And finally, there is the elusive Purple Rose, a man who sends her flowers, secret admirer notes, and money for school. Little does Maya know that Purple Rose is actually the handsome Masumi, who has fallen in love with her and her acting but knows she would never accept his help. This is in large part due to his habit of treating actresses as commodities of the company, as well as the role he played in the eventual demise of Maya's mother. However, despite her hatred for Masumi, Maya begins to have feelings for the handsome bachelor, which come to a head when all at once he accepts an arranged marriage and she begins to figure out who Purple Rose really is.


Glass Mask is a thrilling experience, a true soup opera on the page. The art style is dated, but dynamic, and you are really sucked into the characters' pain as they struggle to understand a multitude of plays (The Miracle Worker, A Stone's Smile, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Hamlet, Growing Up, etc.). All the characters, including the men, have a distinct personality and motive during each story arch. It is such a great story because it is so creative with the characters' acting. In many cases, the same play is shown twice, showing the difference between Maya's perforance and her rivals'. Additionally, Maya goes through some truly difficult experiences but, after much heartache and encouragement, she manages to stand back up again, either through inner strength or encouragement. You always feel relief when she figures out what she must do and begins to gain some confidence in her abilities.


Unfortunately, I did not describe this manga just for the sake of showing the mixed gender cast and the strong female leads of Maya and Ayumi. Instead, I wish to point out the dark side of the romance. While I think that stories like Glass Mask are not meant to be taken seriously as templates for love and relationships, the fact of the matter is that young women will read the story and others like it and think that it is normal after seeing certain tropes often enough. To start with, let's look at Marmalade Boy again.


Despite being a mixed up love story that ends happily, there are some unaddressed dark elements in the midst of the drama in Marmalade Boy. Both of Miki's love interests technically assault her while trying to woo her, and the same happens to Meiko when a friend takes interest in her. (We will save the conversation about her relationship with the teacher from the age of fourteen or younger for another day. There are whole essays about the age of girls in manga, such as the fourteen-year-olds in short skirts in Sailor Moon.) Yuu kisses Miki while she is asleep in the school nurse's office, long before she has any idea that he is seriously interested in her. In real life, it could be terrifying to live with someone who has done something like that to you while you were supposedly unconscious. What else could or would he do while you were asleep at home when your parents were out? Later, Ginta grabs Miki, basically calling her a tease because she has conflicting feelings about both him and Yuu, and tries to kiss her, only backing down when Yuu shows up. He is supposed to be Miki's best friend and care about her feelings! In Meiko's case, the guy pushes her up against a wall, boxing her in while getting close to her with his face and body. Yes, he backs down, but the two characters were never really close enough for Meiko to trust him not to do something to her in that situation. (I am really glad that she does not end up with him or feel obligated to him for encouraging her to write a novel, which catapults her to fame, since his treatment of her is mostly misogynistic.) Again, I feel that there is nothing wrong with enjoying these stories so long as you recognize what a healthy relationship really looks like. Sadly, the makers of Barbie for a long time seemed to think that girls knew what real female bodies look like and would not compare themselves to the skinny dolls.


The problems with the relationship in Glass Mask are more sinister. Of course, while reading the manga, the word you might use would be "confounding," because you know all the emotional struggles of all the characters. The same is true for a movie like You've Got Mail. The character who is supposed to be evil finds himself in a place where he needs to maintain appearances as both an evil man and an important source of joy and confidence in a special woman's life. In the movie, Kathleen runs a bookstore that is being put out of business by the bookstore tycoon Fox Books, and she has a terrible relationship with its ruthful owner Joe Fox. However, it turns out that the two of them are pen pals online, which he discovers way before she does. In fact, Kathleen only learns of this after Joe has made sure they are friends and that she will not take it badly. She falls in love with him before she knows he is her pen pal. It is kind of a Beauty and the Beast story because Kathleen unknowingly tamed the beast by leading him to taming himself for her sake, to the point where she can feel comfortable being with him. The profound effect she has on him leads him to discovering the good in himself, or at least the love he is capable of giving. The same is true in Glass Mask. Instead of Joe, we have the powerful, young, and handsome Masumi. (Think of Dorian Grey from Fifty Shades of Grey.) In the place of Kathleen we have Maya, an aspiring actress who is willing to speak her mind despite Masumi's power.


Situations like this are romantic because the audience feels for both characters. We understand that Masumi has fallen in love with Maya, that he knows his heartlessness will keep her from loving him back, and that his inner struggle is a great one. We also feel Maya's strong feelings of loyalty for Purple Rose, a man she has never met but who boosts her up from afar. He attends her shows, sends her flowers, and pays for her to go to a great high school when she has no money of her own. What we fail to realize when we get swept up with the characters' emotions is that even though there is no assault like we see in Marmalade Boy, there is a huge power play going on. Masumi is shocked by the feelings he has for a girl eleven years younger than himself and expresses his feelings for her through gestures of goodwill revolving around school and money. Unfortunately, what this creates is a dependency and a deception. Although Maya is not being roped into loving Masumi directly, he has (although inadvertently) spent years grooming her to love Purple Rose, which is a version of himself. The Time Traveler's Wife is romantic, and terrifying, for the same reason, as the leading man accidentally plays a huge role in the young girl's life, essentially prepping her to become his wife. After they are married, in the midst of a fight, she states "I never had a choice." On top of that, Maya begins to have feelings for Masumi even before she knows he is Purple Rose. He treats her like a possession of the company, he always calls her something along the lines of "shrimp," he causes the downfall of the first theater Maya joined, and he locks her mother away in preparation for a big reunion that would boost publicity. The real kicker comes when Maya's mother escapes, unaware that she would have been allowed to see her daughter, and dies after the elements aggravate her already advanced case of tuberculosis. Yes, Masumi realizes that he has done a horrible thing by keeping the mother and daughter apart, but from Maya's standpoint he does not seem to feel any remorse at all. This ultimately leads to an opening for sabotage due to Maya's numbed state of mind in the midst of grief and a devastating scandal that nearly ruins her career.


Admittedly, Glass Mask portrays the hardships of being a big time actress, and is something of a cautionary tale about the sacrifices one must make to keep up with a cruel and corrupt industry. (Her beloved teacher was the one who originally separated the mother and daughter forcefully, and there are lots of evil people looking to bring Maya down througout the series.) Maya and Masumi's romance is that between the innocent and the guilty parties within the theater industry. Once again, the Beauty and the Beast. Unfortunately, that fairytale is criticized for the fact that the Beauty is too trusting (or manipulated) and falls in love with the Beast despite the way he keeps her trapped in his castle. Even after the death of Maya's mother, Masumi keep tabs on her—stalks her—using his money and influence, even finding a way to make her want to act again after declaring she no longer wanted to. He continues to act as both himself and her secret admirer, deceiving her by both making him hate her, therefore boosting her acting passion, and making her care for him and feel grateful to him as the Purple Rose. Yes, Masumi accidentally came into this situation, but the fact remains that he was an adult from the beginning of the series while Maya started out at just fourteen with no means of protecting herself from powerful, rich influences like his. To quote The Time Traveler's Wife again, she never had a choice. The idea might be that she is strong and can handle his personality, but that may be the only thing she can defend herself against.


This is where the real danger of romantic stories comes into play. When the male character (generally this is the case) has too much power and is allowed by society and the story to get away with poor treatment of the main character, you need to take the story with a grain of salt; you cannot take it too seriously. You also need to remind those around you that they should not take it as an ideal romance. It is a dark fantasy that excites the brain and the body, just like Fifty Shades of Grey does for so many people, but it is not ideal love. Wooing someone by stalking them, luring them with money, paying for their home and their possessions, forcing them to accept nicknames, controlling their contact with family...that is taking control of them rather than winning them by your own merit. In stories like Glass Mask, we know that Maya's eventual feelings for Masumi come from years of getting used to him, from developing a unique relationship with him, and from seeing the sadder side to his seemingly privileged life. We know from watching Masumi's side of the story that she is the one thing in the world that makes him feel like he could be a good man. Unfortunately, a man behaving this way in reality probably would do the girl more harm than good. She is manipulated throughout her teen years to love him. Pop Culture Detective on YouTube pointed out in one of his videos that the movie Say Anything is suddenly scary if you remove the scenes that tell us the meaning behind the male lead's actions. When you get down to basics, a man is harassing a woman. That he simply did not realize he was doing is not good enough, because that tells us that society has indicated to him that his actions are not scary, but instead romantic.


I really love reading Glass Mask and others like it. There is a certain masochistic enjoyment to be had reading about power plays and aggressive love. However, in my real life, I know that a man treating a woman that way would be really terrifying. A man with the power of money, society, or simple physical strength and confidence on his side could do any number of things to me, could manipulate me for any number of reasons. And perhaps the answer to the question of "Why?" is that media targeting young men teaches them that they are important. At the same time, it teachers young women that they are important. Shōnen manga, like shōjo, tells boys that they might be special. Like I said before, generally everyone wants to feel that way. The difference is that shōjo manga, consciously or not, acknowledges the wall of the patriarchy that often rises up to prevent further progress without a strong male love interest. Part of being special as a woman is often communicated as meaning that she is worth being loved by a great man. To him, you are beautiful even if the world cannot see it. Meanwile, in shōnen, the significance of the romance might be that the woman most worth having is yours for the taking like a prize. And, like a prize, that woman is probably beautiful enough that everyone will notice.


Now, please know that this is not always true, just as the shōjo/shōnen romance problem is not always true. For example, all gay romance hopes aside, Naruto ends up with Hinata because (in terms of plot structure) she is the one who always saw something special in him. That is a very shōjo reason for a boy to end up with a girl. (Refer back to Miki being somehow worthy of Yuu's love in Marmalade Boy, even when compared to other prettier, more talented girls.) And shōjo heroines can be strong even if they pair off with a powerful partner. In Emma, the main character chooses when to leave and when to stay with the rich man she loves while he has to decide whether or not to move on. In Wish, the angel Hotaru loves the doctor Shuichiro for the simple reason that he makes her feel warm and safe. Romance does not always have to be wrapped up in a power struggle or a power play.


Still, the point stands that maybe too many shōjo girls end up with men who only treat them well after the beast is tamed, so to speak. They feel no remorse about their actions until they realize that the girl is a living, breathing person whose feelings are being hurt. Teasing, or even bullying, directed from the boy towards the girl is often the way the relationship starts. And if that was not preceded with friendship, then how can we say that it is at all healthy? Boys should not harm girls, physically or mentally, because they like them, but sadly a lot of people still think it is okay to say "boys will be boys" or "he probably likes you." If he hurts her, does it matter if he likes her? It does not make him worthy of her affections or her friendship.


I love reading shōjo manga. It is thrilling just like a tournament shōnen manga can be. A good story will pull you along on the characters' struggle and make you feel for what they are going through, enjoying their pleasures and pitying their sorrows. In the end, maybe all shōjo and shōnen manga need are a dose of feminism, bringing in more female characters and more healthy relationships, and manga will just turn into a huge spectrum of reading about characters you like based on their personalities and battle gear. At the same time, I do so enjoy the emotional torment of a soup opera on paper.

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