Questions for Tezuka

I was surprised by how much I enjoyed reading The Mysterious Underground Men. I found that, compared to those in the other comics we read, Tezuka’s characters were more likable and his plot was more interesting. John, Uncle Bill, and Mimio were all new to me, so meeting them for the first time had me eager to see where their stories would go. Also, I didn’t expect this to be a story about evil termites, as the title led me to believe that there would be some sort of underground human race involved. It was refreshing to read something completely unfamiliar. Because I didn’t know how the story was going to develop or end, each page turn had me guessing.

We talked a lot in class about pages 8 and 9. Something I noticed was that between these two panels, an unknown amount of time passes. By the time we see John again after his father has died, he has already planned out and built his trans-earth train, a project that could have taken anywhere from days to weeks to months to years. Although it probably has to affect on the actual story, I wonder how much time Tezuka meant to pass here.

I also find it interesting that a rabbit had to go through scientific experiments in order to become smart and humanlike (or maybe to become an actual human?), while the termites of the underground world just evolved. They became as smart as the humans, but had no human help to become that way. Termites are pests and rabbits are pets, so why are the termites more naturally capable of intelligence than the rabbit? If Tezuka were here in class with us, I would ask him about how he came up with this story, and why he chose to make the little details to be they way they are.

And This is How It All Started

When I was younger, the Mysterious Underground Men never occurred to me as a simple, significant work of art. It was simply easy to keep up, had an enjoyable art style, and a really sad story. So when I flip through the pages again, almost 10 years later from a more academic perspective, a lot more came to light.

Character introduction:
This was something that was in the beginning of almost all of the mangas that I have ever read. But it was never something that I had ever paid too much attention to. Even when I transferred over to comics, I never even thought twice with the introduction missing.
It was very shocking to me when someone mentioned that the intro, was sort of like opening credits to a movie. It was a trailer that gave the audience a peek, but not spoiling the story (Maybe that was why Mimio, the actual hero/heroine in my opinion, was not mentioned), which is completely opposite of the movie trailers we have today. (Fantastic 4 movie, anyone? Yawn. More like a prolonged version of the trailer.) It gave us the idea of what kind of story we were about to enter into, the main characters, and what kind of role they would play.

Sound effects:
Overlooking the HORRIBLE translations of the Japanese, the "sound effects" that were added into the manga is very different than how it is added into American comic books.

Does this look different to you? Yes the language is different, but one think that is similar is that sometimes it is incorporated with the pictures to emphasize, or to magnify the effects.

Splash Page:

Two whole pages as a splash page is actually not that uncommon in Japanese manga, especially if you look at the more recent ones. Such as Naruto, One Piece, and all of the other famous ones, you could find whole page (as in two page) splash pages more frequent than you thought. I really enjoy the splash pages. The art that goes into is not only fantastic, but the ideas that go behind are even more genius.

P64-65: drawing the characters in the negative space to convey the sense of being trapped and corner;

P98-99: the brilliant see-through wall and not-know-where-to-look brawl;

P138-139: scaling the rocket so small compared to the huge swirl of color to express the extreme circumstances that they were facing.

It is all very intriguing.

But what I want to mention the most, is the corresponding doors on page 9 and page 148. Osamu Tezuka used the doors as the signal as the beginning and the end of the journey. Very crafty. In the same way, he slips in splash pages as separations of the chapters. Just like having book dividers as the shape of books, it is full use and undetectable.

As a aspiring manga artist, there is a lot for me to learn. Not only from this book, but also the thousands of other classical and inspiring mangas waiting for me.

Better Than Any Human

From beginning to end, The Mysterious Underground Men was about Mimio the "rabbit". Mimio had been certain of his/her humanity throughout the story until he/she was abandoned by John and Uncle Bill. Before dying from the sacrifices Mimio made for everyone, he/she asked John whether he/she was human towards the end of his/her life. John replied, "You're greater than any human..." (pg 148).

The final line made me think that yes, Mimio is better than any human. He/she could be considered to have some of the best qualities that humanity can provide to the world especially selflessness. What is interesting and profound is that Tezuka did not specifically assign a gender for Mimio (there was once or twice "he" was used to refer to Mimio). He also had Mimio disguise himself/herself as a human girl and a human boy. These points show that it does not matter if you're a boy, a girl, or something not "human" because it demonstrates that one's choices are what make one who they are.

The use of simple, cartoonish style for the characters and realistic imagery for the backgrounds are similar to Tintin. However, the contrast between simplicity and realism not only help bring the audience into the story but also emphasizes the realization in the story that human beings are not all that good even though we are the dominant species. We can relate this to colonialism, slavery, stereotyping and other forms of discrimination where a group believes that they are superior to others. Sometimes simplicity is best to explain an important point because it creates an engaging, fun, easy-going environment that leads to a larger impact at the end after realizing what just occurred.

What about the Underground Men - do you think that they could also be an extension of what Mimio represents?

Most Emotional So Far

The Mysterious Underground Men is by far the most emotionally appealing work we have read this semester. From the opening sequence of Little John losing his father, which transitions into the experimentation on Mimio and his struggles with proving his humanity, I was instantly emotionally engaged in the text. My emotional investment in Mimio was far greater than in other characters we've encountered this semester. He's endearing, and his demise was heartbreaking. Tezuka did a wonderful job in drawing the reader in to his characters. The panels are also very artistically appealing, especially the plane and car crash sequences. Those two factors combined made for an enrapturing read for me. I never thought I could get "lost" in a graphic novel like I did with this one.

A Fan-Fic?

I really enjoyed The Mysterious Underground Men. But as I was reading something felt off.  This comic features a young kid with a permanent cowlick who is running  around building rockets and getting into fights with gangs.  Not only this, but he eventually gets a small talking animal (or human?) companion with white fur.  You could almost put the title Tintin and the Mystery of the Termite People on the cover.  Another scene in this comic that stuck out to me was the deluge of ground water in the center of the earth which is taken straight from Journey to the Center of the Earth. I was antonished how much this story seemed influenced by these works!
   I am particularly curious about the intent of Tezuka.  Was he unknowingly influenced by these very popular works? Or was he trying to introduce the sci-fi/detective genre to Japan? It doesn't seem to me that he was trying to plagiarize these stories. But it is very interesting how many parallels there are.

What makes us human?

The Mysterious Underground Men, by Osamu Tezuka, is probably my favorite of our readings so far (sorry my beloved Superman and Wonder Woman). Not only was the manga visually stunning, but the story line contained a richness we haven’t seen yet. The manga is layered and asks questions that are very philosophical in nature. As readers we are not handed answers or force fed morals, but left to grapple with delicate issues. Two of the most pressing questions I found are the questions of what it means to be human and also whether scientific and technological advancements are a means to our salvation or to our damnation. The benevolent desire to create safer transportation, after the death of his father in a plane crash, is what motivates John to design and build the rocket train and yet this new form of transportation that tunnels to the center of the Earth is directly what leads the evolved termites to come to the surface to try to destroy humanity. In this way, the best intentions can pave (or tunnel) the way to our own destruction. To counterbalance this rather bleak look at technology, we get Mimio. Mimio created through scientific experiment (more like torture?!) saves the world. So it seems that technology and science are neither inherently good nor bad, but can raise the stakes of success and failure. Also, through the creation of Mimio we are presented with the enigma of what makes us human. On the outside, Mimio appears like a bunny, but Mimio contains a high level of intelligence and level of speech as well as emotional complexity that we typically associate with humanity. So we must ask ourselves if being human is limited to our DNA and appearances or whether it can be achieved through other less conventional means. When it comes down to it, is it enough for Mimio to believe he (or she) is human for Mimio to be human or must others accept Mimio as human for he (or she) to be a human. Of course, there are also the evolved termites or who are referred to as the “mysterious underground men,” emphasis on the men, in the title. With a very humanoid shape and an evolved level of intelligence there is little that separates them from being human besides their home where they reside, so they too walk the line of what constitutes a human. Overall, I found this manga compelling for its beautiful panels and for its ability to grapple with large problems.

Setting The Stage

Osamu Tezuka’s The Mysterious Underground Men grabbed me much like the volumes of Tintin did. Though not quite as precise as Herge’s handiwork, Tezuka’s book and the drawings inside of it elicited from me a comparable sense of wonder, its plot’s twists and turns arrayed in an elastic sort of reality paralleling the hyperactivity of collected Tintin while upping the fantasy factor. In Tintin and in The Mysterious Underground Men, the attention to setting is what elevates the standard adventure “jump one hurdle then another, clear one obstacle then another” style narratives. Tezuka’s depictions of the Earth’s interior, particularly the emergence of the termite people and the foray into their Queen’s palace, are imbued with danger necessary for the occasion, but also with some brand of wanderlust. Tintin hits this same nerve, perhaps even more frequently than The Mysterious Underground Men does. This attention to setting makes these comics more fully immersive experiences than those that focus nearly all of their attention on action. The place in which these actions occur is what lends the actions their oomph, something Herge and Tezuka both seem to be acutely aware of.

Two-Page Splash Pages

Much like our discussions of Tintin, Monday's discussion of The Mysterious Underground Men often focused on the influence of silent cinema.  I would argue that the action of Tezuka's comic owes less to slapstick comedy than Herge's.  The comic is, nevertheless, a thoroughly cinematic one.  Its "opening credits" and Tezuka's sly inter-titles are a particularly innovative bridge between cinema and comics.   The most outwardly cinematic pages are those that depict a single, massive frame over two pages.

In class, we discussed the chaotic image of a huge brawl late in the comic.  The frame above is my personal favorite.  The detail and depth of the image is not matched by any in the other comics we've read. Though Hergé employed large frames throughout The Blue Lotus, nothing matches the scope of Tezuka's images. The set recalls the massive ones built for silent-era epics.  Also, by stretching the image over two pages, Tezuka creates a visual phenomenon that is not unlike the pan of a camera.   More than perhaps any image we've seen, this one calls on the reader's prior knowledge of cinema to build the relationship necessary for closure.  Obviously, the first Star Wars is many decades younger than this comic.  I could not, however, help but be reminded of its opening shot of the Star Destroyer.

Moral lesson?

I didn't enjoy this manga as much as I did reading the comics but I must say that this was a fairly easier read in comparison. Everything seemed to flow and I did not feel overwhelmed with too much text or too much image in the panels. It was sort of a simple piece in my opinion and also my first manga. I believe the main idea here was learning a lesson of not underestimating people or not taking certain things for granted. In this case Mimio was underestimated from the beginning and ends up giving his life to rescue his friends and save the world. It reminds me of a fable or didactic story which are usually intended to teach a moral lesson to the readers. I am not sure if this is a trend with manga but that is the idea I'm given.

Mimio

The Mysterious Underground Men begins with an "opening credits" giving biographies of major and minor characters. While the biographies don't tell the entire story, they spoil the major twists and the ending. Notably, though, Mimio is absent, even though they are present throughout the story and  instrumental in the defeat of the termites. Meanwhile the termites get their own collective mention (even if the Queen's plot mostly involves bribing humans to fight for her), as well as the three workers (only one of whom is named in story).

While leaving out Mimio from the listed cast (and the cover) preserves some element of suspense, Mimio was a more important and interesting character than Young John. Although in the place of the talking animal sidekick, Mimio really drives the plot forward. Young John's biography gives him full credit for defeating the termites, but he would not have been able to do so without Mimio helping him at multiple stages (especially at the end, when Mimio single-handedly retrieves the blueprints and fossil diamond and kills the Queen). While on the surface being about Young John's adventure, The Mysterious Underground Men is really more about Mimio and their quest to be human.

Guilty Until Proven Innocent

As I read through Tezuka's The Mysterious Underground Men, I couldn't help but draw some comparisons to a few superhero series'. Specifically, I thought of the X-Men and Superman. The X-Men were the first to come to mind because Mimio seems to fit into the group quite well. When he reveals himself to society, he is turned away in fear, a reaction similar to the one which Bobby Drake (Iceman) receives when he "comes out" to his parents in X2 (a terrible movie to be sure, though it does have its merits as well). In both examples, society fears the heroes because what they can do is viewed as "unnatural." What, then, was the reason for Superman's success? His powers are far beyond those of the X-Men, yet in the vast majority of Superman media, he is quickly accepted by humans without fear. The obvious distinction between Superman and Mimio, at least, is that Superman looks like a normal human whereas Mimio does not. The X-Men, however, also look human, though there are a few exceptions. So then why is Superman accepted so easily when Mimio and the X-Men are not? I would argue that one factor is the manner in which the heroes are revealed to society. Mimio and the vast majority of the X-Men are simply trying to live ordinary, quiet lives. They are, ironically, too normal. Because of this, their intentions are unclear to society. Superman, on the other hand, makes a grand reveal in many of his adaptations, often saving the lives of hundreds of people in the process. He willingly reveals himself to the public, proving his good intentions as he does so, thus earning public trust.

Where are the women?

Although I really enjoyed The Mysterious Underground Men, I was really irritated to find that we were reading another story with little to no female characters. Although the Queen of the underground world could be considered female, she’s a secondary character with not much character development. I was really excited when Mimi appeared to save the day and insist that even though it might not look like it she’s “still a first-class engineer.” So even though the twist that Mimi was actually Mimio was a cool surprise, I was really disappointed that the story lost one of its two female characters. I can’t help but wonder why the only comics we’ve read so far with more than one or two female characters have been comics like Wonder Woman or Little Lulu, where the main character is female. How is it that there are so few representations of women in comics?

What does it mean to be human?

Throughout Tezuka's work, the subject of "humanity" continuously comes up.  It is first mentioned in reference to making Mimio, a rabbit, into a human.  The scientists experimented on Mimio to try to see if they could in fact "turn him human," however once Mimio has the ability to talk, dress, and act like a human, he is constantly told he isn't one and can never be one.  They seem to base humanity not merely on intelligence (as Mimio clearly is incredibly smart) but also on outward appearance.  When he makes the mistake of hitting Uncle Bill on the head in an attempt to save the blueprints, he is scorned for making a mistake that apparently no true human would have done.  However, aren't humans prone to making mistakes to begin with?  Wouldn't it be natural for a human to make the same mistake Mimio did in the midst of all the confusion and fighting happening in that moment?  Doesn't that genuine mistake prove that Mimio isn't some faultless, genius, almost robotic science experiment?  Wouldn't that flawlessness end up making Mimio seem even less human and distanced from normal people?  It seemed a bit odd that they would immediately attack Mimio's humanity when he messed up.  I could see them being angry, but not necessarily to the cruelty of undermining Mimio's identity.
By the end of the manga, however, when Mimio shows his empathy and love of humanity by sacrificing himself to finish the tunnel, that's when his humanity is brought back to light.  As Mimio lies dying in the hospital, he asks John if he's finally human, to which John replies "you're greater than any human...Mimio...I'll never forget you..." (148).  John's final response to Mimio's question seems almost like a way out.  I don't know whether John actually believes, even now after all that has happened, whether Mimio is in fact "human" or can be considered one.  John seems to make Mimio jump from "less than human" in his mind to "greater than human."  Neither of which is actually just "human," which is what Mimio has been craving to be seen as since he was created.

What makes a human

An interesting theme present throughout much of The Mysterious Underground Men is the question of what it means to be human. The readers are first exposed to this question alongside the introduction of Mimio. Originialy introduced as a rabbit of notable intelligence, Mimio finds himself the subject of various bizarre and, ironically enough, inhumane experiments so that he might become more human. However, despite the brutal nature of these experiments, Mimio goes to desire recognition as a human above all else.

The question of defining humanity is raised again in the actions, and frequently flawed decisions, of the actual humans in the story. Not only does the reader find flaws in humanity through the villainous actions of Ham Egg and The Black Demon Club, but even the protagonists are shown to falter when John and his uncle cast out Mimio for accidentally aiding in The Black Demon Club's acquisition of the blueprints. Nevertheless, despite not being entirely human, Mimio continues to do good and eventually defeats the termites and saves John through his heroics.

Tezuka finally puts the question of defining to rest in the closing pages of his work with the death of Mimio and John's statement that Mimio is "greater than any human" (148). Instead of simply fulfilling Mimio's wish to be recognized as a human, Tezuka instead acknowledges Mimio's heroics and moral incorruptibility as surpassing humanity. This decision not only canonizes Mimio to the reader, but the juxtaposition with Mimio's character highlights the flaws inherent to humanity visible in the other character.

Problematic Motion Lines?

Of the comics we have read this semester I found The Mysterious Underground Men to be one of the most enjoyable thus far. Largely, I'd credit this to the variance in types of panel-to-panel transitions and the balance between text and image. One criticism I do have of the work is Tezuka's use of motion lines, which I occasionally found poorly executed. On page 79, panel 2 the Queen is threatening Mr. Ham Egg with a gun following the previous panel in which Mr. Ham Egg charges towards her. In panel 2, the minimal use of motion lines makes it look as if Mr. Ham Egg is sitting in a seated position in mid-air. Similarly, on page 104, panel 3 Soda is depicted as jumping in the air celebrating the destruction of the bomb, but the use of motion lines surrounding his legs makes his position look unnatural, and almost as if he is hovering in mid-air. Although potentially nit-picky I found Tezuka's use of motions lines to be somewhat problematic at times throughout the story. In working to understand the differences between Western and Eastern comics I wonder if this was a stylistic choice made by the comic artist, or if others share a similar critique of the work?

Violence! (In Tezuka)

Jumping into a comic originating in post war Japan, we are greeted with a plane crash and the immediate death of a beloved father. Later on, the black demon club destroys a city. These images condemn explosive technology and aerial travel. One might expect similar themes from a country recently involved in a terrible war. Bombs and planes left an indelible mark on Japan, and their echoing in this narrative makes sense. In The Mysterious Underground Men bombs signify the evil approach to creating change and exerting force.

The righteous characters of the comic completely rule out the use of bombs. In similar cases of building railroads, humans have often used explosives to clear the way. John subverts this expectation with his creation of a train that clears its own path through the use of a drill. Tezuka portrays the train as both effective in achieving its goal, and never being used for evil or violence. John continues this trend of nonviolence by incorporating a gun that shoots sleeping potion into his physical vocabulary along with the occasional uppercut.

Grandpa, however, exhibits some sort of hypocrisy. On page 98 he states that only "cowards use guns". Later, after escaping the gas chamber, he fires back at the termite queen without and hesitation. Her death in the resulting car crash receives no mourning or second thought. Perhaps this paints the previous generations violence during the war as necessary or forgivable. I cannot make any speculation as to the consciousness of this portrayal, but the previous explanation makes sense either way. The morality of Grandpa's actions crosses lines, but we cannot judge his actions easily. In the same way, Japan's wartime decisions present many problems for modern historians.

In any case, only the winners can implement violence. In this case, John, Grandpa and Mimio remain on the right side of history through their triumph.

My first introduction to Tezuka was the iconic Astroboy manga, so I was very disappointed to hear that we would be reading about mysterious underground mole men instead of intergalactic space odysseys and my favorite android. But I was pleasantly surprised by how enthralled I became while reading this manga. Obviously, the almond eyes, small mouths and pointed chins employed by Tezuka have become a hallmark of the manga genre, and the Mysterious Underground Men undoubtedly helped launch this art form to new altitudes. But there was an interesting plot device used by Tezuka that caught my attention while reading his manga. In the climax of the story, (spoiler alert) Mimio in fact ends up becoming the hero of the story and prevails against the strange humanoids, and not the protagonist John. This is strangely reminiscent of the 1951 (2 years later) movie Superman and the mole men. Both protagonists lost their parents, and were ‘gifted’ (superman with his strength and John with his intellectual capacities), altruistic characters with peculiarly drawn/costumed “underground men”, and the use of a secondary character to help resolve the issue at hand. It came to my attention in class that this story line is actually predated by another story line, the 1864 classic by Jules Verne, Journey to the center of the earth.

But in my eyes, it's the villain that makes the story.

After the conversation in class, it dawned on me that the key word here is mysterious. All of these stories were commercially successful not because of the hero, but because of the villain. These creatures literally come from the depths – from the depths of our subconscious and nightmares. In our desensitized 21^st century point of views, this might not have been a scary story. But I could easily imagine a young Japanese boy in the 1950’s reading a Tezuka comic with a flash light under his bed sheets. The orange paper that mimicks the clay they are digging through, paired with numerous subject to subject transitions makes for a slower paced and suspenseful experience. What makes this story such a memorable experience for me was how the faceless underground men hid in the crevasses of the cave walls like a sinister organism, using closure as a means to create a realistic interpretation of what the creatures look like. I loved this story because this principle of using a creepy, abstract villain, makes for an amazing read.

Splash page = New chapter/genre

The mysterious underground men is my favorite out of the comics that we’ve read so far. While reading the comic, I was really amazed at how Tezuka is able to fit in a lot of different genres, such as action, sci-fi, fantasy and etc, into a relatively short comic. Even though some of these genres are mixed throughout the story, it seems like Tezuka uses the splash pages without any titles, as a new genre or chapter is introduced in the plot. For example, the main plot up to page 31 is about instilling a bunny, Mimio, with human characteristics and Mimio’s rejection in society. However, the splash page on pages 32 and 33, showing a rocket train, leads to a shift in plot and introduces the genre of sci-fi. Then, the plot goes on to show Young John and Mimio’s travel to the center of the earth up to page 53. Then, the reader encounters another splash page on pages 54 and 55, and is introduced with another genre of fantasy with the introduction of termites. This structure remains the same for the rest of the comic.

Even though these splash pages introduce the readers with a new chapter or genre, the splash pages without the titles allow the readers to connect the scene shown in the splash page to the previous plot. Thus, I thought it was a very effective and creative way to use the splash pages to introduce a shift in plot, while still having the readers’ engaged.

Room For All

Room For All

     One might argue that in any narrative, the creator intends for the reader to personally identify with their protagonist. For example, in The Adventures of Tintin Hergé intends for his readers, particularly young boys, to identify with the cunning and intellectual hero that Tintin is; conveying the idea that you don't need superhuman strength to be a hero (among other things).

     Interestingly, however, in Osamu Tezuka's The Mysterious Underground Men, Tezuka leaves room for the reader to pick and choose who to strongly identify with beyond just the stated protagonist. Mimio, arguably the secondary protagonist or even on an equivalent level to Young John, welcomes all the readers who don't quite click with John. John, the boy wonder who fits in from the start having been the son of a famous engineer and has legions of men working under his guidance, while might be someone we all want to be, realistically he might be a stretch for a large chunk of readers to identify with. Mimio, on the other hand, embodies a stage in life we have all experienced: a desire to fit in. Like John, Mimio exceeds the standards of the average person, but where they differ is in their societal acceptance; even Mimio's last words were concerned with his membership in humanity.

    Perhaps Tezuka's goal wasn't to give the reader a fair opportunity to pick a character to identify with but rather aimed to emphasize that the only true difference between John and Mimio is their appearance; wrongly serving as a barrier for Mimio throughout the story. Regardless of what Tezuka's primary intention truly was, his dual-protagonist narrative creates room for all audiences to relate to.

Shadows of the Hero

Reading The Mysterious Underground Men by Osamu Tezuka, all I could think about was the book's similarity to Tintin. The book reflected on the adventure of a young child and a white rabbit, a courageous duo that proceed to save the world. The characters are cleanly-drawn, colors are simple, and the story was very relatable, possibly due to the fact that the story of the book was very similar to famous novels that came before it. This fascination came to a halt as I read the last panel on page 105. The page showed Young John and Uncle Bill finding Mimio in a trash bin. The moment Mimio tells his/her story before he/she got captured, John and Bill instantly accuses Mimio of wrong-doing and literally throws him/her out the window. This scene caught my eye due to the use of shadows. Reading through other panels, it was clear that shadows were not drawn in most other panels, especially in the panels surrounding the last panel of page 105. The use of lighting and shadows emphasized the seriousness of the scene, but I believe there is one important point that we should not miss. By showing the shadows, the shape of the characters, mainly the head part, are emphasized. It is as if Bill and John realizes that Mimio is only a rabbit after all. This difference in appearance eventually lead Mimio to disguise him/herself with a wig and a hat, covering his/her identity to save the world. It is only after Mimio dies that Bill and John realizes Mimio is no different from others. In fact, John cries and whispers to Mimio's years that he/she is "greater than any human." The panel in page 105 and the last panel is relatable to an important lesson: a person's looks does not change who she/he is.

Tezuka and Hergé: International Tropes

            As I was reading The Mysterious Underground Men, I couldn’t help but think of The Adventures of Tintin and the similarities between their conceptual features. Although two very different comics, both feature a young male protagonist with incredible skills and mental prowess, the communicative animal companion, the bumbling adults getting in the way etc. The set up of the two comics seems to be very similar.

           

            However, if you look beyond the basic set up the similarities seem become much more complex. Aside from the lack of explanation for Snowy and the overt explanation of Mimio, their characters serve very different purposes. Mimio does not serve as a narrator or commentator directly to the audience. Both characters do, however, help get their friends out of tough situations and display great intelligence and courage. The two lead male characters are both highly intelligent and oddly accomplished for their age. Rocket science and hard-hitting reporting careers are very rarely associated with young boys. That being said, while Tintin seems to be fighting for truth and fairness against bad guys, Young John and his moral fiber are not the focus of the Tezuka comic. Really, Mimio takes center stage and the comic really centers on Mimio’s preoccupation with humanness. The main conflict of the graphic comic may be the fight against the Underground termite group, but it reads on a much more esoteric level, asking questions about humanity as a concept. Tintin’s own subversiveness, about capitalism etc., is much subtler and never directly discussed.

            At the end of the day it really feels like the intention of the two could not have been more different. The moralizing simplicity of the Tintin and his adventures seems diametrically opposed to the complex moral gray area that Young John inhabits. This seems to serve as an interesting commentary on the differences in the two industries that exist even today. While comics in America were made to conform to the comics code and generally tended towards themes appropriate for their young audience, Japanese manga has always been read and consumed by a larger audience. Additionally what was thought acceptable for children was also culturally very different. These areas added up to create very different markets, which favored very different types of media, creating the divergence we see in the modern comic market.

Door to Door

The story begins in the Surgery room on page 9. Mimeo is created in the surgery room, and his door into humanity remains open until the final pages when it appropriately closes. The panel design before this door is opened in the prologue is really out there. There is only one evenly bordered panel in the entire intro while the rest of the prologue is told in open space or in diminutive dream bubbles that fade into the main story. It's interesting that Mimeo's sojourn into humanity possesses no unique paneling like we find in the intro. Everything is cut into squares and rectangles. Maybe this is Tezuka's commentary on human uniformity, but I felt cheated that this chaotic opening sequence had no artistic presence in the actual story. It's akin to a trailer snatching your attention with fantastic cinematography, only to find the actual movie shot standardly.  An gradual evolution of paneling- going from loose to rigid- to mimic Mimeo's ascent  into humanity would have been less jarring and frankly an interesting concept. Go me, if only I could draw. 

Spots of Color

In terms of composition, Osamu Tezuka has some of the best work we have seen so far. While the art is monochrome and black and white, the spots of color are used in order to help move the eye around the page. This makes the art within the panels visually appealing, as well as making the entire page.  More often than not, the color spots fall on or around the intersecting lines that represent the rule of thirds. The rule of thirds divides the composition into thirds horizontally and vertically. The intersections of these lines create the four hot spots where our eyes are most often go in a composition. This is where the color falls most often. So while Tezuka did not have a wide color palette, he used his colors in an incredibly effective manner.

The Miniature Museum: Tezuka's "The Mysterious Underground Men" as an Archetype for Educational Mini-Museums in Japanese Media

Hello, all! Hope everyone's been doing well.

     I wanted to write this week's blog post about the inclusion of the fossil splash page in Tezuka's The Mysterious Underground Men (pp. 42 of the version published by Picture Box) and the similarity between this panel and elements of the Animal Crossing Japanese gaming series. Although I can't say for certain, as I am by no means an expert in the field, I believe Tezuka's work may have served as an archetype for many Japanese manga and video games in terms of its inclusion of non-plot-driven educational excerpts. Whether or not The Mysterious Underground Men was the first of its kind to throw seemingly unrelated educational panels into the middle of the story, we can still draw many meaningful connections from the similarities between Tezuka's work and the Animal Crossing series developed by Nintendo.

     Firstly, I'd like to analyze the accuracy of the information presented on the splash panel on page 42. Assuming that the information presented in the English translation by Ryan Holmberg is identical to the information in Tezuka's original body of work, the data presented to readers on pp 42 is surprisingly accurate. I found that although many of the dates listed below the fossils were inaccurate (according to Google), all of the periods associated with the fossils were correct. Additionally, I should mention that all of the fossils do in fact correspond to real-life scientific discoveries. Beyond that, Tezuka's artistic renderings of all of the fossils possess an almost scientific accuracy. (see comparisons below)

Devonian Period Fish

Ichthyornis

Lepidodendron (Carniferous Period)

Trilobite

Tyrannosaurus Rex

Olenid Trilobite

Eurypterus

Triceratops

     During our class discussion yesterday, it was noted that this splash page may have been included in the comic as way to avoid backlash claiming that comics were not academic or educational and as such not suitable for young readers. I think that is a great point, and certainly has its merits, but I believe that beyond that, this panel also serves to ground the entire story in reality. Without the educational splash page, we have a story with no roots in the real world - Mimio the talking rabbit, a train that goes through the center of the earth, and underground termite-people who happen to have no problem communicating with our protagonists in their native language aren't exactly commonplace in the readers' daily lives. However, by presenting audiences with scientific information that the reader knows to be fact, Tezuka skillfully merges the imaginary world of the story and the world that we live in. In my opinion, the splash page in question serves as a bridge between the world of the story and the world of the reader, and is of monumental importance. 

     The concept of presenting factual information in a fantastic setting is still present in Japanese media today. For example, in the Animal Crossing game series, players inhabit the role of a human who finds herself/himself accidentally moving to a town wholly inhabited by humanoid animals (similar to Mimio?). Although the goal of these games is simply to make friends with the villagers and earn money to customize your character and in-game house, many of the items acquired in the game can be donated to the village museum, which is operated by the town owl.Screenshots of average game play contrasted with museum game play below should remind you strongly of the relationship between page 42 and the rest of Tezuka's manga.

 

Above:Making small talk with a humanoid deer - not so believable

Below: Visiting the town museum - pretty similar to reality

 

If you go up to one of the plaques in the museum, it gives you specific information about the items in the exhibit. For example:

"The name stegosaurus literally means "roofed lizard" or "covered lizard." This name came from a belief at the time of discovery that it was covered in bony plates like a shell. We now know that the plates stood fully upright along its back and were covered in thick skin. Beyond protection from harm, they were likely used to regulate body temperature."

Another excerpt is taken from the art installation:

"Considered one of Vincent Van Gogh's most well known still life paintings, Sunflowers is generally considered the default name of this specific Arles Sunflower painting.

Although previous works regarding flowers had been created by Van Gogh in the past, the artist drew inspiration for a set of sunflowers while he was in Arles, France, which have since gained popularity due to its charming, yet simplistic appearances. Despite its quaint image, the Sunflowers first demonstrated Van Gogh's usage of pigments which were introduced around the 19th century, which were used to bring out vibrancy similar to that of actual sunflowers. "

This sort of true-to-life information present in fantastical worlds is an incredibly interesting artistic tool that is present both in Tezuka's work and in more recent Japanese media.

That's all for now. See you guys next week!
-Matt