Understanding Akira:
Analyzing How Ōtomo’s Cyberpunk Comic Utilizes Posthumanism to Effectuate an Allegory of Post-War Japan and the Reformist Conservative Era at the End of the 20th Century in Reference to Scott McCloud’s Writing on the Comic Book and Graphic Novel Forms
*** Originally submitted 28 October 2019 to Dr Eden Lackner, in part for credit, for ENGL 322: Comics at the University of Calgary***
***Not only is this essay subject to copyright, but any unauthorized use without citation is considered academic misconduct (plagiarism). You are welcome to consult this paper if you provide the appropriate citation(s)***
According to Istvan Csicsery-Ronay, cyberpunk is a genre that explores how “alienated subcultures [adopt] the high-tech tools of the establishment they are [...] alienated from” (quoted in Iglesia 2). Iglesia further argues that Akira is – one of, if not the first – cyberpunk science fiction comic books, something Brown asserts is part of a larger trend in Japanese visual media. This is further framed by Brown as an example of posthumanism. When contextualizing Akira to its publication in 1982 and the political and social contexts of the nation of Japan in this time period, it becomes apparent that Akira acts an allegory for the political and social conditions of a post-war Japan, rediscovering itself in a time of polarized radicalization. Through specific analysis of Akira’s use of closure and synaesthetics it is clear that these formal elements effectuate the themes that this allegory encapsulates, heightening our understanding of the text in ways other forms would not be able to, and by extension, how other forms fail to effectively represent this allegory.
Firstly providing historical context, Babb describes the Japanese post-war political climate as one that is reminiscent of “Ronin deliriously devoted to Bushido amidst a nuclear holocaust” – that is to say the shifting pieces between the socialists, conservatives, and yakuza led to a particularly turbulent time in the land of the rising sun. More specifically, Babb highlights how these different factions interacted during the struggle for power, and how the Yakuza eventually came to “hold the government as a helpless hostage”. This came to a climatic end with a re-emergence of strong conservative and nationalistic ideologies in the 1980’s – along with the rise of Britain’s Thatcher and America’s Reagan. Ultimately Babb says, this led to the “prevalent thought of nationalistic fervour that preceded each of the Great Wars”. This is the climate by which Ōtomo’s Akira was published, and acts as an ideological backdrop for the narrative and its effective meaning.
Akira is the embodiment of cyberpunk, the “alienated subcultures [adopting] the high- tech tools of the establishment they are [...] alienated from” (quoted in Iglesia 2). In terms of Akira, the subcultures of gangs, thugs, and the common ‘proletariat’ street survivors rebelling against the arms of government and military. Further, these dystopian themes are frequently addressed in Japanese popular media – with other popular examples including “an obsession with the supernatural” and “widespread popularity of hentai” (Iglesia 2018). To that end, questions surrounding conscientious morality and its affectual effect on the meaning of ‘being human’ leads cyberpunk dystopias into post–humanist critique. In the case of Akira, the literal morphisms of Tetsuo and Kaneda are direct allusions to the dimorphism of their very humanity. This is most clearly demonstrated in the bleeding panels featured prominently throughout. Without the gutters offering closure, the expanse of the action leaves questions to truth and power – for example page 283 – 284, juxtaposing the line “a monster” with the austere zoom and bleed of Tetsuo’s panels.
This argument is also exemplified by the narrative details of Akira, most prominently, the foils of Tetsuo’s and Kaneda’s character arcs, as well as the social commentary on militarization and bureaucratic officials. Although both coming from similar origins, Kaneda acts as our traditional ‘hero’ – transitioning from a misogynistic thug into a freedom fighter and purveyor of relative justice. While Kaneda is framed as a fugitive and branded as a terrorist, it becomes clear from the developments of the action that the government is not to be trusted. This idea directly opposes the hierarchy of respect demanded by Japanese culture and is further challenged by how Otōmo expresses this in form. Throughout the text, Tetsuo and Kaneda are afforded decorative ‘colourization’, insofar as the shapes and shades of their clothing are ‘colourful’ through the synaesthesia created by the weight of the lines. However, the colonel is always depicted in a deep shade of grey – quite literally ‘shady’ in his representation – which can be observed on page 218, which is complimented by an evil smile and absence of eye contact in with the reader on page 240. In contrast, Tetsuo starts off more respectably, but soon begins a descent into maddened revenge. Though he serves the government and the military, he acts much more as an anti-hero, an agent of evil, and a symbol of oppression akin to the colonel and his depictions. Also contrast Tetsuo on the bottom of page 26, all bright and innocent, with his depiction on pave 284 – the look of a killer. This effect is achieved with further synaesthesia – heavy handed lines on 284, with a lighter shade on 26. Additionally, there is closure in the former depiction and bleed in the latter – a literal demonstration of being at peace and transitioning to chaos. While Tetsuo may be seen to be noble – and certainly is redeemed due to his devotion to the societal values held by the Japanese audience – he also viciously acts against the interests of the public by covering up the truth of the titular Akira project. Taken together, the government and military are framed as villainous conspirators, aided and abated by the nuclear holocaust that decimated – and forever changed – Japan. Meanwhile both the hero and anti-hero are gang affiliated or are otherwise effectively Yakuza. Another representation is of the Yakuza through Akira the beast, ever omni-present as the titular identity, yet never truly there. While not conforming to McCloud’s definition of closure in comics, this is reflective of closure in the traditional sense. The Yakuza hide amongst the shadows, controlling everything – all the narrative action – that may occur above, yet remain unknown and unseen. The clear allegory here is made with the allusion to the nuclear bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the reflective impact these incidents had on Japanese culture, society, and politics – and a cautioned tale of both military control over bureaucracy, nationalistic tendencies, and a Yakuza backed conservative government – one that remains in control of Japan until today.
In essence then, it can be understood that Akira acts as an allegory for the questioning of human identity, the challenging of Yakuza–controlled conservative politics, and a caution of nationalist fervour and Japan’s status quo culture. Otōmo seemingly brings forth rebellious ideals within a revolutionary medium – which by use of closure and synaesthetics, he is able to reinforce his narrative themes in the form he selects. By understanding both the historical and allegorical nature of Akira, the door is opened for further literary analysis in critical theoretical lenses – namely the absurdist, existentialist, nihilistic, Marxist, and post-colonial. In particular, a post-colonial study of modern industrialized nations such as Japan has been an area largely neglected by literary scholars, while other far-eastern nations such as India may also benefit from further post-colonial analysis in the future. Specifically, with Akira, as far as post humanism and questions of conscientious morality are concerned, Nietzsche stated it best: whoever fights with monsters should see to it that he does not become a monster in the process. And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you. In Akira, the monsters are sometimes quite literal, and bearing this allegory at the forefront of further analyses will enable the abyss to gaze back and further re-inform our readings. (1201 words)
Works Cited
Babb, James. “Two Currents of Conservatism in Modern Japan.” Social Science Japan Journal, vol. 5, no. 2, 2002, pp. 215–232. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/30209381.
Brown, Steven T. “Tokyo Cyberpunk: Posthumanism in Japanese Visual Culture.” Liverpool University Press, New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2010. JSTOR, doi:10.3828/sfftv.2014.24
Iglesia, Martin de la. “Has Akira Always Been a Cyberpunk Comic?” Arts 2018, vol. 7, no. 32. 1 August 2018. MDPI, doi:10.3390/arts7030032.
McCloud, Scott. “The Infinite Canvas.” Scott McCloud.com, http://scottmccloud.com/4-inventions/canvas/. Accessed 17 September 2019.
McCloud, Scott. Understanding Comics. Edited by Mark Martin. 1st Ed., Harper Collins, 1994. Ōtomo, Katsuhiro. Akira Vol 1. Penguin Random House/Kodansha Comics., 13 October 2009.
