I knew Our Dreams at Dusk: Shimanami Tasogare would be the series that got me back into manga as soon as I saw a cover image. The fourth volume features two women in wedding dresses, clearly getting married to each other. There were no pretenses; it wasn’t open to interpretation. This was a queer manga and I loved that the cover didn’t hide it.
Violet Evergarden reimagines historical discussion of post-traumatic stress, early 1900s literary tropes, and the popular “war narrative” genre, but with a female child soldier as its protagonist. In its remixing and calling back to World War I history and especially women’s history, the series provides a fresh take on an old tale with a strong undercurrent of feminist themes.
The main driving theme of Tokyo Babylon is Subaru’s unlimited empathy for everyone, be it victims of supernatural occurrences, earthbound spirits, or simply an elderly man at the park. To Subaru, all deserve to be cared for, even at the cost of his own well-being.
The very idea of being able to live on my own, make my own decisions, and grow based on my experiences outside of the stipulations placed upon me by my small town seemed like the ultimate dream. After seeing Kiki leave her parents and fly across the water at midnight with her little red radio, I thought that I could do the same.
Selfless heroines are common in anime and manga, but Tohru is particularly noteworthy because her development throughout the series serves as an example of growing up, coming to terms with one’s feelings, and finding one’s voice. She navigates a very real, very familiar river, fraught with anxiety and self-doubt.
Released in Japan in 2004, Howl’s Moving Castle remains one of Studio Ghibli’s classic films. But to anyone who was inspired to read the book it’s based on (written by Diana Wynne Jones), the film reads less like an adaptation than a complete reimagining. One of the biggest changes is the character arc of our protagonist, Sophie Hatter.
March comes in like a lion is not always an easy show to watch. The protagonist, Rei Kiriyama, is probably the most relatable and moving representation of anxiety and depression I’ve ever seen. He’s what brought me to this show, but he’s not the only reason I stayed.
Using both its fantastical premise and grounded characters, Natsume’s Book of Friends tells a story with strong parallels to real-world mental illness and trauma. But what really makes it special is that it’s far more interested in exploring the recovery process, offering hope to its viewers who are trying to do the same.
It was me, my mom, and my sister growing up. Like Velvet in Tales of Berseria, I was the middle point of the trio. Unlike Velvet’s family, it wasn’t the youngest I was worried about. It was the oldest—my mom.
Underneath Chise’s still demeanor and all her magic capabilities is a 15-year-old girl with barely enough energy to keep her head above the water. The Ancient Magus’ Bride dresses its narrative with sparkly romance, but Chise’s journey is far more personal. I know it, because it’s my journey too.
Instead of focusing on suffering, dark magical girls can inspire young female audiences by showing that they have the power to overcome their personal pain.
It is so rare to find fiction that speaks to your Otherness and to truly connect with it. As a trans woman, I more often than not feel disappointed after opening my soul up to allow for validation and comfort. So perhaps you can imagine the tenderness with which I turned the pages as I read Nagata Kabi’s My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness.
Mental illness is a part of life for many people, yet it’s still a taboo topic that has a lot of stigma attached to it. Often times in fiction it’s portrayed through a “crazy” person, and there haven’t really been a lot of realistic discussions about it. Anime is no exception.
As someone who works in a mental health-adjacent field, the Flying Colors Foundation’s approach to mental health in the anime fandom seemed not only misguided, but also irresponsible and potentially dangerous.
Hyouka’s “normalcy” helped it present a very grounded take on high school life, carefully depicting the flaws and struggles of its main characters without reducing them to archetypes.
Makoto Kageyama, a former volunteer at Aokigahara, was kind enough to speak with us about their experiences living with mental illness, how the mentally ill are treated in Japan, and how those issues are depicted in anime.
Looking at this romantic comedy by name and genre alone, we might expect it be about its geeky protagonist “recovering” from online games and becoming a “normal” adult. Instead, MMO Junkie gives us a story about finding happiness and fulfillment through online games, using their safe zone of community and anonymity as a foothold to regain emotional confidence.
The pairing of a meek young woman with a self-assured and wealthy man is common in shoujo manga, sometimes leading to depictions of abusive or unhealthy relationships that are tacitly treated as acceptable by the story and audience. It’s worth examining how The Ancient Magus’ Bride does (or doesn’t) fall into these patterns.
Kare Kano starts off as a light, funny, and typical “girl-meets-boy” shoujo series, but it quickly evolves into a dark, emotionally gut-wrenching tale that delves into discussions and depictions of child abuse, suicide, sexual assault, self-harm, mental illness, bullying, and other themes that I could very much—albeit uncomfortably—relate to.
I love many things about being a geek: reading or watching different media, researching their histories, and talking to others about it. These activities are viewed as essential to being a geek. But replace the word ‘“geek” with the word “autistic,” and suddenly all the traits that were so readily accepted get read as strange and negative.
