As a sex worker, however, my favorite aspect of The Apothecary Diaries is the nuanced depiction of sex work. From the Verdigris House women to the royal concubines, the series treats the characters engaged in sex work with care, subverting many of the harmful tropes and expectations that other popular media from around the world often fall into.
El-Hazard’s depiction of its own petulant villain provides some eerily relevant commentary that resonates outside of the show’s original context, and makes revisiting the series particularly powerful.
As I watched Orb’s various protagonists stake their lives against a violently oppressive religious institution, my real-life government grew alarmingly hostile toward my existence and those of my ilk. Watching Orb became an acutely personal experience, demonstrating the force with which established power structures will suppress truths that threaten their authority and how hope for radical change can be found through community and collective action.
Ascendence of a Bookworm depicts both the societal forces shaping the lives of people with chronic illness and how accessible community can help ameliorate them.
While some women do their best to play by the rules, others find loopholes in social customs through which they can enact a semblance of autonomy. However, doing so is extremely risky, especially for those lower on the social ladder.
Princess Mononoke, with its focus on women in conflict, winds up reflecting an archetypal struggle between the “civilized” woman and the inner wild self.
When money is a key motivation, ethics and the greater good are quickly abandoned. This theme is apparent in Season 1 of the anime, bubbling away ever-present in the background as Kana learns the magical girl trade, but comes to the forefront in subsequent material when the manga really starts to dig into the politics of the magical girl business.
While toxic workplace culture is originally presented as something that’s keeping the couple apart, ultimately the narrative ends up reinforcing it, asserting that finding happiness in love and expressing your own queer identity are less important than maintaining a conservative, capitalistic status quo.
The Apothecary Diaries re-imagines the social life of women in its fictional society, showcasing how, despite living in oppressive systems, women continuously negotiate their existence through resilience, intellect, and community.
Anime Feminist also had the remarkable opportunity to interview Yukimura about Vinland Saga, writing female characters, portraying slavery and the role of Buddhist Philosophy in his work. Our interview with him, which was one of the great honors of my time in anime journalism, is below.
From the reader or viewer’s perspective, the exchange seems seamless and natural, because how hard can it be to just talk to someone? Today, I’m here to tell you, it’s actually pretty hard.
Or: Chiaki just wanted to brag she gets fed at interviews with the rich and famous sometimes.
Communism is when I write horror manga. This fact has generally been unrecognized in discussions on the subject.
Declaring Show Time! as part of an entertainment criticism pantheon may overstate its importance in the anime sphere. However, this hentai uses its erotic elements to explore issues and humanize actresses in a way those other shows for general audiences cannot.
In a time wracked by despair, paranoia, and economic devastation, Evangelion captured the nihilistic zeitgeist of a nation and its citizenry
While the influence of theater on Utena isn’t subtle, knowing what specific strains of theater the show references would likely be lost on most viewers. Yet uncovering those histories can be like finding little Rosetta Stones to help you parse a show that prides itself on obscurity.
Everything in Yurikuma Arashi is more symbol than literal representation, and I have often mulled over its meaning as I’ve navigated entering the teaching profession as a nonbinary Chinese person. Like the bears, I’ve often asked myself: what do I sacrifice to be allowed to exist within the school?
I’m in Love with the Villainess starts out as a silly isekai romance but grows into a story that earnestly advocates for queer people, taking on complex subjects like homophobia, transphobia, and classism. However, the story’s reliance on messy tropes can sometimes muddle its messages.
Identity is a complicated subject; the ways we can reflect, parse, and better try to know ourselves are nearly infinite, while the ways we can convey that to others effectively are not. Usually, we are limited in how we present by the economic and social pressures of our society. The cyborg challenges its fans to ask themselves: if what makes us people isn’t as concrete as flesh and blood, then what other unshakable, unchangeable truths about ourselves have we been wrong about?
2023 was the first year Otakon invited guests who create and study manhwa, and the two guests were eager to discuss the process of bringing awareness to manhwa as an artform, using the newfound popularity of webtoons as a way to introduce English-language fans to the history of the medium.
Momose’s trauma is a constant throughline in the series, but we can rest assured that he’s going to be okay—while there are dark moments, the light-hearted nature of the show and its clear placement as a fluffy, bit-based comedy reassure the audience that ultimately this will be a kind story that lets this wounded person have a good time.
