Hello, all! It’s crazy to think that we’ve already arrived at my last blog post. I’ve had such a blast with these, honestly–it’s been really fun and refreshing to play with historical scholarship and questions in this informal, conversational sort of way. Thank you for reading!
Alrighty, then! Today we’re looking at some different philosophical ideas around science fiction and cyberpunk. Specifically, Japanese science fiction media as it has emerged over the last sixty or so years, tracing roughly back to the classic animated series Astroboy (1963-66)–both a hallmark in the worlds of anime and of science fiction (SF). This visual and literary genre, while containing many universal elements, is uniquely suited for continuing long-standing Japanese philosophical discussions around Westernization and modernity. Scholar Kumiko Sato considers the significance of the human/machine duality as representative of the juxtaposition between “…subject and Other, West and Japan, science and occult, as well as machine and human organism.”1 Here, Sato suggests universalist dimensions of SF’s abstract meanings while also exploring how that dichotomy can tell uniquely Japanese stories. However, cyberpunk is unique from other stories that focus on the simple literary device of juxtaposition: by utilizing fantastical, SF-related visions of technology, cyberpunk places itself into conversation with the anxieties of modernization. In a Japanese context, this connects cyberpunk back to philosophical traditions of the 20th century, including our favorite Kyoto School philosopher, Nishida Kitaro. Just as Nishida famously wrote on “overcoming modernity” by paradoxically working through modernity, the cyberpunk protagonist often works to overcome a larger injustice through usage of the very cybernetic enhancements that form the backbone of their unjust world.2 And, yes, I am absolutely delighted to connect cyberpunk with 20th century Japanese philosophy.
In a similar analysis of Japanese utopia/dystopia fiction, Yoriko Moichi places SF squarely within a tradition of politically-minded utopian literature alongside figures such as Daniel Defoe and Jonathan Swift.3 Through the exploration of “reality and unreality,” as Moichi describes it, political visions of the future could be uncovered with the potential for impactful social influence.4 Like with Sato’s analysis, Moichi finds a duality at the heart of SF. Again, this duality places SF into conversation with Japanese intellectual debate around modernization, westernization, and anxiety for the future.
As a long time fantasy enjoyer and shorter-time SF enjoyer, I’m very intrigued by these dualities and this new perspective on the genre. The way that modern scholarship is seriously considering these fictitious expressions in their larger intellectual contexts is inspiring, and I hope that these scholarly trends continue to engage with popular media so earnestly and critically. As perhaps a final thought, I’m curious about if and how these ideas around SF and cyberpunk could connect to other influential genres of Japanese media. For example, when discussing dystopian fiction, is the horror genre not also within arm’s reach? What about the overwhelming inclination toward high fantasy that exists throughout anime? Comparative analysis across these different flavors of fantastical Japanese media could reveal even more perspectives on its connection to long-standing intellectual and philosophical traditions.
Right. That’s all from me! Thanks again for reading, and take care.
- Kumiko Sato, “How Information Technology Has (Not) Changed Feminism and Japanese: Cyberpunk in the Japanese Context”, Comparative Literature Studies, Vol. 41, No. 3 (2004), p 353. [↩]
- Ibid., 342. [↩]
- Yoriko Moichi, “Japanese Utopian Literature from the 1870s to the Present and the Influence of Western Utopianism”, Utopian Studies, Vol. 10, No. 2 (1999), p. 90. [↩]
- Ibid., p. 89. [↩]