BANANACUE
REPUBLIC
Vol I, No. 9
Nov 03, 2004
Social Criticisms by
Vicente-Ignacio de Veyra III
Art as
Politics; Politics as Art
WATCHING “SAMURAI X” or a similar anime series on TV, I noticed the
relation to the The Lord of the Rings effect, upon me as a
passer-by viewer (just imagine its effect on the anime fan!). This effect
was anime's propagandistic charisma value that the Japanese probably are
aware of. I am not so much talking about the content, which may vary from
anime to anime (albeit a constant pattern may be gleaned by any curious
social scientist). I’m more inclined to celebrate the virtue of fantasy
in the hands of the virtuous, its Hitlerian grandiosity controlled by either a Big Hate or a Giant Greed. All because it’s charming, charming,
charming.
Anime
cartoons are fantasy cartoons in more ways than one. They do not pretend
to be realistic comedy cartoons nor do they kowtow to the category of
children’s programming. Anime could be considered an art in itself,
involving a fantastic plot or fantastic power object, and the
portrayal of another Japanese fantastic achievement: the anime eyes. Anime
eyes are a Japanese vehicle for escape from the global stereotyping on
Orientals as squinty-eyed, but going farther than the Western man’s
larger eyes to produce in the end a different nation that’s
quasi-Japanese, quasi-Western, the citizens of which inhabit a globally
marketable art. Add to this, anime characters’ hair color try to escape
ground level by exploring the possibilities of dis-blacking. This style
propagated a trend in Japan of color-dyed hair among the youth (and later the middle-aged) previously only
plausible among so-called fashion punks.
Much
has been said by many a lay philosopher about the escapism of fantasy
literature and art vis a vis the boldness of realism and expressionist
passion. The Lord of the Rings trilogy by the writer J.R.R. Tolkien
may have influenced fantasy lovers even before it was made into three special-effects movies, including the
pioneering art-rock band Led Zeppelin (which
created their own drug-inspired fantasy musical-lyrical landscapes) and the
producer-director George Lucas (of the sci-fi fantasy classic Star Wars
fame). However,
fantasy art seemed to be given credence as serious art only when driven by
artists and authors surrounded by a traffic of political oppression
(whether it's an oppression within a
geo-political or ethnic boundary); these artists’ works
supposedly hiding or enhancing a political satire or symbology. When flaunted
by artists in happy surrounds, on the other hand, fantasy art is often deemed
by the snobbish as simple fantasy devoid of any
social significance as art.
In
the age of post-structuralism and Marxist criticism, however, reviewers
have been given easy license to profess that we can actually read and over-read
almost anything into anything now, the only universal rule being that the
reading maintains an integrity. This certainly went further than Marcel Duchamp's now-lame
proposal that anything exhibited in a gallery may qualify itself as art. (Certain thinkers decry integrity in reading,
meanwhile, celebrating entropy and disavowing criticisms on unintelligent readings by the masses.) So Star Wars can now be taken into a
classroom and deconstructed to fit any personal agenda upon the work, and
that is not anymore considered shameful. Indeed, we can say that in our
age artworks are liberated from the author-dictated (or New Critics-proposed)
Moral Lesson,
surrendered now to the intelligence or lack thereof of the masses or the
masses’ favorite authority critic (who may then offer various readings or
approaches), thus, finally, dis-glamorizing snobbery. So why, we ask, does fantasy
art still manufacture frowns from authorities at Cannes or Stockholm?
Perhaps because post-structuralism, supposedly masses-friendly but ridden
with academic gibberish, didn’t exactly create a trickle-down effect
upon magazine reviewers. Or should we say that finally all shall be as if
post-structuralism never really happened, and history will just once more
be a manifestation of the law of God which consists of repeats and second
comings.
There
will always be this divide between realists and expressionists. The divide
between realists and fantasy artists, meanwhile, will remain an
interesting kind of divide, with the former not directly confronting the
latter but simply ignoring.
Realists
will, however, not begrudge fantasy artists their “rightful” place in
society. Anime cartoons of today, along with fantastic movies as The
Lord of the Rings, not only create entertainment offering momentary
escape from our dirty laundry and the depressing art films from the
festivals and artistry from the Congress halls, they also inspire
creativity with measure. Such measure is easy where the art (with its accompanying creativity) is almost an end in itself.
As in clothes fashion. Many fine cinema
techniques can be traced to comics art, in the way that technology traces
its achievements to basic science. Were anime not fantasy, I doubt that it
would come up with the visual quirks (lighting, color, lines, etc.) that are in
the level of what theatre people and fashion ramp aficionados proudly
refer to as meaningless creative faggotry.
But
what do we make of it when certain fantasy artists, beyond the
academicized critics, proclaim on their own their arts’ real social
significance beyond the merely entertaining or l’art pour l’art (read:
decorative) value? Do we take them seriously? Have we really taken science
fiction seriously beyond the claims of the college curriculum at the same
podium where we’ve regarded magic realism with awe?
Perhaps
the answer is that fantasy is simply too much of an achievement of
metaphors. The real world already abounds in metaphors . . . so,
why create another world? And, conversely or accordingly, everything is
actually fantasy. A paragraph that describes a coffee break in a Milan
sidewalk café might read as fantasy to a UP Diliman student from the
province who saves up on his allowance to be able to sip at Figaro during
the weekend.
As for realism, I wonder how realist it really is. An early literary
movement called Naturalism claimed more real realism in the portrayal of the
helplessness of the individual as victim of his surround, beyond salvage
by the fantasies of revolutionists. And although this genre (as in the
talents of
a Eugene O'Neill or Alexander Solzhenitsyn) clamored for a kind of
counter-revolution (Solzhenitsyn
against a continuing communist “morality”, for example), the
Naturalist’s art itself had to portray a reality first; not the reality
of omniscient organizers of reality but the reality of the imprisoned
denied vision of anything beyond the four walls of his cell (and inner
cell). Therefore, to the Naturalist, so-called Realism is fantasy. Ernest
Hemingway’s
own type of quasi-inner naturalism already regarded realists as suspect.
But
fantasy art's role, like anime, will continue to be equated with the functions of
background music, chandeliers, drugs, tapestries, or postcards.
Entertaining, mere artisanship’s produce. Which does not exactly sound
demeaning or insulting, but yet decidedly relegates it to a lower echelon.
Perhaps
this is all cultural. The miracles in the Bible are not viewed by
Christians as fantastic but rather historical. And as for being a
question of degrees, with realist art having more reality in it than fantasy,
fantasy having less, this theory likewise turns suspect when we start to consider
the claims of science fiction or fantasy literature authors that humanity
exists purportedly not in the world of the “real” but in the inner landscape. This
inner landscape could actually be in any setting at all. So, a Milan café
is no more real than a cave in Mars. The same human principles apply, as
it did among the power-brokering and struggles in The Lord of the Rings or Spiderman or Winnie
the Pooh, as
it does in the amazing cartoons of anime art.
Imaginativeness or creativity, these are exercised fully in fantasy literature and art (being armed with a freedom like those of basic science researchers unpressured by a direct corporate or market demand). But so is one’s understanding of human behavior exercised here -- wouldn't present human behavior be better exposed in a sci-fi novel? These same exercises among authors and artists are also operational in readers and viewers of literature and art. After all, when we come right down to basics, seeing the category “Fiction” in a magazine automatically relegates pieces in this zone to the level of fantasy vis a vis the news, and the reader accepts this fantasy, suspending disbelief in his submission. It’s time we admit that all art is nothing but fantasy, and that therefore our first obligation as artists is to art itself, avoiding being boring or unfresh.
THE
RECENTLY-concluded US elections were full of fantasy and realism. A lot of
real facts about George W. Bush’s and friends’ businesses in the
Middle East were touted as lies by his camp’s defenders, a collection of
political art and measure and restraint in the contender John Kerry were offered as
portraying a liberal revolutionist. Some of us were amazed at the
restraint that Kerry displayed in avoiding mention of such red meat
potentials against G.W. Bush as United Defence or Unocal, which Ralph
Nader (armed with the l'art pour l'art freedom to spill the most conservative-offending
beans) would have no qualms mentioning and
offering to the media head-on. Which Michael Moore, as critic of both
Republican and Democrat shortcomings, had no reservations in exposing.
Which Fox News, for all its denials of being a Republican propaganda
machine, made open efforts to deny.
Fantasy
and realistic portrayals are two approaches to the same thing. Art. Which
is the practice of the illusions of every profession and its accompanying
uniform; every business enterprise with its marketing; every political
career with its restraints and compromises; every greed with its blueprint
scheme and impending grand architecture; every religious mission; and
every nation’s delusions, escapisms, or self-imaging designs.
The only realist portrait is an inner one, which draws the face of a winner. This winning, however, is made possible by the art and lie of imagination combined with restraint that makes all fantastic realities succeed.
Posted at the Bananacue
Republic website 11/02/04.
"Fantasy and
realistic portrayals are two approaches to the same thing. Art. Which is the
practice of the illusions of every profession and its accompanying uniform;
. . . every political career with its restraints and compromises."
Some were
amazed at the restraint US presidential candidate John Kerry displayed in
avoiding mention of such red meat potentials against his opponent G.W. Bush
as United Defence or Unocal.