Tuesday 28 October 2008

Soul food from Japan.

I like that Shigeru Miyamoto considers the enrichment of our souls important, and that he thinks it can happen-- that it does happen, right here and right now-- through videogames.

You know, every so often I'll stumble across a screed by some games developer or another that waxes lyrical about their creation in terms that seem to suggest they truly understand the power of fiction to take people over, and see that as an inspiring thing: "we want this game to touch your soul"; "we hope you'll be transported to this game's world"; "please let the characters live on in your heart"; "don't let even death keep you from playing until the end!" Lately, in particular, I've been reading a lot of commentary from the singers responsible for the AT vocal tracks, who in many cases were also the lyricists and composers of the songs, and the breathless way in which they present their work makes it sound as if they believe their songs are one step short of truly being magic. Akira Tsuchiya, head of the sound team and ultimate mastermind behind the series-- I think it's no coincidence that a man known chiefly for his musical expertise is at the forefront of a project to which music is central-- talks in commentary of how the opening lines of the first game's opening song cast a "summoning spell" to draw us into that world. The singers call themselves "Reyvateils" and talk of how they can imagine that Reyvateils really exist not far from us. They repeatedly talk about wanting to flood our hearts and souls with the power of their songs.

Such unabashed, world-blurring love for their craft. And what I'm noting in all of this is that every time I've seen this utter sincerity and fervent hope that the players are truly drawn into the world, that they make it their home, that it will truly transform their hearts, that it can and should matter to them, it's from Japanese staff.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not going on a "Japanese art is superior!!11!" rant here. I'm just curious, because this seems to be a fairly consistent pattern, and I'm genuinely wondering if there's a mindset more encouraged in the Japanese culture that allows developers to bare their hearts about things like this (and possibly, has also encouraged otakudom to spiral to the heights it does there, even if such extremes aren't necessarily well tolerated). Because I really can't imagine too many American developers being this... touchy-feely about their games; the sense I've always got from interviews with directors of Western media has been "hey, we hope you enjoy it! Get out there and have fun with our stuff!" American developers talk about games in terms of fun, playability, challenge. Japanese developers talk about them in terms of heart, soul, idealistic concepts like don't let even death keep you from playing until the end, if you're going to love the characters then love them wholeheartedly and don't let go. I've never heard an American games developer express concern over how I personally bonded to the characters beyond perhaps "we hope you like the personalities we've created in this game".

And I guess, because that's the way I ultimately look at gaming, because I want to be surrounded by people who look at gaming that way, I'm curious as to what drives this. I'm curious as to whether it's the culture that inspires people to open up this way, or if it's a counterculture springing back from a society wound too tight. I'm curious as to whether this is everywhere, or just in gaming. I'm curious as to whether it's as common in gaming as I think. I want to know because, frankly, I could eat this kind of talk up all day, all month, all year, and never want it to stop.

Love them wholeheartedly and don't let go? I thought you'd never ask.

10 comments:

Anonymous said...

I found your last line touching.

I think it's a difference between Japanese and Western artistic styles. Japanese styles are more focused on one's internal emotion, and they tend to hint at feelings with just one brushstroke. Western styles expect you to read a message from the outside, rather than feeling it. In a truly serious situation in Japanese drama, you aren't likely to see a sad tearful face; the character's face will be hidden, and you are supposed to understand how they feel from your own understanding of a person's heart. In a Western drama, you'll be shown sad faces and tears, and you'll know what they are feeling because the story explicitly tells you. It neither depends on you nor expects you to understand what the character is going through-- it just tells you outright.

Because of all this, to understand a Japanese work of art you're expected to feel it and be sincerely moved, whereas to understand a Western work of art you're only expected to get the point that it's trying to make (which may or may not involve emotion or empathy on your part). I think that's a large part of it-- since Japanese and Western artworks each want something different of you, the Japanese and Western creators each are looking for a different reaction.

Ayulsa said...

Awww, yay. I'm really glad that someone felt the impact of that, because this entire entry the need to actually express how I was feeling, or at least some small sliver of it, was trying to tear its way out, and I finally felt like I did get it out at the end, there, and I was proud. It's just that feeling of "iwantthisiwantthisiwantthis... wait, you want me to have this too. Oh dear gods. Thank you. *drinks thirstily from stream of emotional satisfaction*"


About Japanese drama: I hadn't actually noticed that difference, but that is really interesting, and a thoughtful analysis! From what I recall of various pieces of media, you're right, and I will keep a look out for that in future. (Also, I wonder if there's a certain aversion to "getting up in the faces" of crying people like Western media seems to....)

But yes, that art style doesn't work at all if you don't emotionally engage. In Western art you don't have to emotionally engage if you don't want to; it's all there for you. You don't have to tease it out. And that lends itself well to (or encourages; I'm not sure whether it's cause or effect either) a culture where caring deeply about a story is not something most people think of as worthwhile. But perhaps you really can't engage with Japanese art and appreciate it any other way. And I like that, now that you've pointed that out to me. I like it a lot.

Anonymous said...

Re your first paragraph: Sometimes it's easy to tell why you like Mir.

And about Japanese drama, I think it's not so elegant to show upset crying faces because they're not really all that pretty. I think they want to strive for elegance, clean lines, and an emphasis on drawing the viewer into the beauty that already inherently exists in the world.

In this paradigm, the artist doesn't create beauty, but rather strives to draw attention to it and showcase it; we know it is there because we are feeling human beings. But it is there regardless, and it isn't the artist who put it there. Because the traditional Japanese artist relinquishes the control to give or take away beauty of their own power, they will not frame an ugly thing (that is not meant to be beautiful in some other way) and tell us to look at it-- the viewer's puzzled reaction would be, "Where is the precious thing that I am supposed to find in this?"

Ayulsa said...

Re your first paragraph: Sometimes it's easy to tell why you like Mir.

...she's breathlessly emotional. Yes.

And about Japanese drama, I think it's not so elegant to show upset crying faces because they're not really all that pretty. I think they want to strive for elegance, clean lines, and an emphasis on drawing the viewer into the beauty that already inherently exists in the world.

Ah, you know, that makes sense too. I hadn't thought of it that way, but yes, perhaps it's less an "I don't want to invade this person's emotional privacy" thing and more an "it's ugly to invade people's emotional privacy" thing; a sense that getting too close is, perhaps, a little disrespectful, but more really that it's crude, in the sense of not being beautiful or elegant. It's not tasteful. (I sort of feel like the King of All Cosmos now: "It is just not wonderful enough!" But in a way, he sort of does represent the very extreme of that sort of aesthetic taken to ridiculous and self-mocking proportions, perhaps.)

I feel like I'm learning so much from this conversation. :) Yay! I would never have been able to pinpoint these things myself, and yet retrospectively what you say does seem to reflect what I've seen....

Because the traditional Japanese artist relinquishes the control to give or take away beauty of their own power, they will not frame an ugly thing (that is not meant to be beautiful in some other way) and tell us to look at it-- the viewer's puzzled reaction would be, "Where is the precious thing that I am supposed to find in this?"

Awww. That makes sense, and... again, it's just a really lovely aesthetic (well, by definition), the idea that art is about drawing out the underlying beauty and preciousness of something. It's not just about seeking out emotion, even, it seems, but about seeking out positive, or at least beautiful, emotion; poignant sorrow, perhaps, but less so the harsher emotions. There's a lot of focus on the delicate and beautiful and that which fills us up with that feeling of "oh...", makes our hearts clench and sympathise; and I really like that focus, because, again, it's sort of what I look for myself in fiction.

And something I meant to say in the initial post, but didn't, is that I wonder if that emphasis is why a lot of sensitive, geeky-type people find themselves specifically attracted to Japanese media: because it echoes these sentiments that they value more strongly.

Anonymous said...

It's not only that Mir is very emotional; it's also the particular that you want nothing so much as for someone to tolerate your loving their characters, but you're resigned to its not happening for the most part. How desperately you want it, how it makes everything right for you when it happens, is just like her.

What you mention about sensitive, geeky people and Japanese media is interesting. Perhaps it's popular among those who couldn't cut it as "cool" in the West because they were too emotional; in anime they find an art style and even a worldview that embraces and validates people's right to feel.

Ayulsa said...

It's not only that Mir is very emotional; it's also the particular that you want nothing so much as for someone to tolerate your loving their characters, but you're resigned to its not happening for the most part. How desperately you want it, how it makes everything right for you when it happens, is just like her.

...I... ah... flail. Yes.

I feel like you're saying the things I want to say so badly yet don't always know how to express. I'm communicating incompletely, and I know that, because otherwise I'd just be staring at the comment box for several minutes typing "ghgsdhgfd", erasing it, and starting over. ...thank you for being my voice? My heart is overflwing but my connection the the Tower's a bit staticky, so I can't download the words....

It does make everything right for me when it happens. It really does. You said it so well. I just... yes. Do you ever want to take the emotion behind someone's words, the sentiment you see in them, and just send it back tenfold with a big "YES" attached?

in anime they find an art style and even a worldview that embraces and validates people's right to feel.

Yes. An art style, and even if it isn't explicitly stated in interviews and such, a worldview that does show through in the story. I think perhaps that feels like home, to a lot of people.

Anonymous said...

Aww. You're welcome, and I do know what you mean about when you want to just send someone back a giant "yes".

Velivolum said...

This was so very heartwarming.

That said, I have nothing too insightful to add, since I don't know much about Japanese culture. I agree with haounomiko regarding the difference between artistic styles. Also, particularly, from what little I've seen, the media in America often tends toward the blatantly emotive rather than the interactive; and by "interactive" I mean that the audience is encouraged to partake in the story-making process by analyzing and gleaning as much meaning as they can. Perhaps the Japanese style moves its audience with rationality rather than - or in addition to - a direct emotional appeal, as contradictory as that may seem (again, I'm hardly an authority, and I'm not explaining this very well). With American drama, it's as though there's something inappropriate about responding to a greater extent than the show (or society) dictates. Outside of fandom, you mostly get raised eyebrows, or maybe an awkward "ok, that's nice..." in a you're-bizarre-so-I'll-just-be-polite sort of tone, for being overly excited and analytical over fictional characters.

This is where the American style may fall flat for some people: I'm stubborn as heck, so whenever someone tells me that I should feel a certain way, I generally don't. In order to really derive meaning from a work of fiction, I need to feel that I arrived at certain conclusions on my own rather than being spoon-fed everything. However, there are many for whom the reverse is true.

On a related note, have you played Chrono Trigger/Cross? If so, you should read this interview of the creator of CC (possible spoilers if you haven't played it). The last part is especially squee-worthy.

Anonymous said...

I like there being hints about how I should feel, because I like to be given some structure to work with. But if it's too heavy-handed, I feel like the work doesn't have any faith that I can understand, so I feel insulted, and there's no way to rise above the insult-- neither feeling nor watching distantly can prove that I'm better than the work is giving me credit for. So I end up having a complex reaction to cheesy unsubtle storytelling (such as feel-good Disney endings), and not in the good way, but in the really distracting way.

Ayulsa said...

With American drama, it's as though there's something inappropriate about responding to a greater extent than the show (or society) dictates. Outside of fandom, you mostly get raised eyebrows, or maybe an awkward "ok, that's nice..." in a you're-bizarre-so-I'll-just-be-polite sort of tone, for being overly excited and analytical over fictional characters.

*nods.* And it's not like it's even too terribly different from kinds of "fandom" that are acceptable in the mainstream, something so obvious even the Onion's parodied it. What makes sports a "living room" fandom-- a fandom you might feasibly display merchandise of and indulge in out in family view, that you might chat about around the dinner table and work into regular conversation just because it's your pet thing even if most of the people there aren't sports fans, and have that tolerated-- and story-based fandom something that "polite" society will give you grudging licence to practice, but only if you keep it out of their way, is a little beyond me. Especially because a lot of fandom is, by and large, thoughtful, polite and intelligent. Or maybe that's the problem. XP

Interview: I've played CT, have only played CC a little but given what I've heard about the incoherence of the plot am not too terribly concerned about spoilers, so I'll definitely take a look at this. Thanks a lot! ^__^