This Week in Anime

Shigeru Mizuki

Nicky
Elohim, Essaim. Elohim, Essaim. I entreat thee. Spirit from the cyber realm, awaken from thy slumber. Appear from the wires, in the name of the editor of This Week in Anime, I command thee!

You'd think all that haunting we did in October would've exorcised the spooky bug out of our systems but it turns out the scares are just a part of our DNA as anime fans. Sorry for not "giving up the ghost" just yet, but this week we're honoring the ambassador of ghost stories, Shigeru Mizuki.

The legend of Mizuki's career is far greater than most of us could've imagined and although he passed of a heart attack in 2015, he lived to the ripe old age of 93, spending his entire life dedicated to studying all kinds of gremlins, ghoulies, and ghosts known traditionally as "yokai." Since childhood, he had been fascinated by folklore and fairy tales. He is the one who popularized the supernatural genre as it exists in anime and manga today. It's really hard to imagine a world where ghost stories weren't a keystone of Japanese media, but much of that is largely due to Mizuki's creative interpretations. This can be found in GeGeGe no Kitaro singing along to that classic opening theme about how fun it would be to play around with ghosts who never get sick, go to school, or go to work.

Mizuki's work is also greatly informed by oral tradition. Before he became a mangaka he worked doing shadow puppet plays or "kamishibai," and before that, he learned everything he knew about yokai from the old lady who took care of him, whom he nicknamed Nononba. Outside of his manga career, he also worked as a world historian, made encyclopedias cataloging yokai, and traveled to different countries in the academic pursuit of the fantastic realm.

Yet, very little of Mizuki's storied contributions are available in English. Even though there's a GeGeGe no Kitaro for every decade, only the latest one is available on streaming platforms—and now with the most recent Akuma-kun anime provided by Netflix, that means we now have a whopping TWO series inspired by Mizuki available to us. Furthermore, the availability of Mizuki manga in English hasn't faired much better, with only a few titles translated, despite being about as prolific and influential as the one people call the "God of Manga," Osamu Tezuka. This means there are hundreds of works we'll never see in English. For example, the Akuma-kun that serves as today's series inspiration still doesn't have a manga license in English, at all! Making many of the references difficult to parse. This is the second Akuma-kun, with the first one being his foster father!

It didn't stop me from enjoying the show. I think it says a lot about Mizuki's originality that he laid the ground for Monster of the Week stories and that his worldview can still be carried out post-mortem through the supervision of his son. The new series also makes just as many references to the '89 anime—and both series have been helmed by Junichi Sato, a name which some anime fans might recognize as he's been working with Toei for a long time, especially on a little show called Sailor Moon, which also featured quite a bit of monster of the week plots.

Mizuki has also inserted himself into his series several times, as beyond fiction he's also produced an autobiography, Onwards Towards Our Noble Deaths, depicting his childhood in the 20s with Nonnonba and his deployment in New Guinea during WWII that cost him his arm. Mizuki is a fascinating figure as so much of his work stems from his personal life and lived experiences outside of being a beloved cartoonist. So much so, Steve and I both agreed that it wouldn't be sufficient to talk about him using only anime as a reference point, and we made the rare move of reading these manga detailing his life.

His drawings may be very cartoony and simplistic in a way that's reminiscent of his period but the realism of his backgrounds is impressive. As if the reality makes the abstract characters stand out. In Nonnonba particular, it felt like a really good way to depict childhood memories as the characters feel so lively. There's no doubt that something like this happened and that the titular Nonnonba was as much of a character as she has been drawn.


Not to mention the depiction of Shigeru's family, the residents of his neighborhood, and the whole era of living in the boonies before modern conveniences. It feels like you're seeing events happening in front of you.

The realism also extends into the fantastical in that there's a sense that the few encounters with Yokai did happen or at least felt real at the time. It's up to interpretation whether events are a product of that trademark childhood imagination—but as an adult Shigeru has spoken that he's the foremost believer in the demons he draws, citing, that the only reason you don't see them as often now is due to the light pollution created by modern cities.

The fantastic elements also create the heart of the book, as it wasn't easy living as a kid without money, TV, or modern medicine. Many children of Shigeru's age passed of illness, are brutalized, or even sold into slavery, all while the adults struggle to figure out how to put food on the table. Shigeru's cousin dies of tuberculosis but the deep sorrow is weakened as Shigeru imagines the paradise she passes onto. Much of traditional superstition was not only moralistic but also a way of coping with grief or various maladies, much like religion.

Besides, if you're a kid with nothing to do why wouldn't you just start daydreaming about monsters around you? That wart on your thumb is a demon that made you cheat on your test or that shadow in the sea is a scary suiko. We need our imaginations to keep everyday life interesting.


Today's Sakaiminato has been modernized and has even become a popular tourist spot celebrating Mizuki's imagination, with a museum, a decorated train, and a walkable road covered in hundreds of bronze statues of Mizuki's most memorable characters—making it much easier for today's children to imagine that yokai are right there.

Onwards Towards Our Noble Deaths is a 90% True Story about a small platoon in Japan stationed off the coast of what is now New Guinea and commanded to embark on a suicide mission which none of them survive (though in reality about 80 of them lived). It is an unglamorous yet darkly humorous telling compared to most fictionalized accounts. The nobility of death that overtakes the dignity of the living is greatly emphasized as war's greatest irony. There's nothing heroic or enviable about these men struggling to survive without proper food and hygiene in such a dangerous and hostile environment.

It's also surprisingly very funny and human, most of the subject matter is very crude, gruesome, or gross, but it's very honest in the way that you might talk about something that happened to you or that people might focus on humor to cope with the situation they are in—or the fact that humans (and life in general) are honestly just somewhat flawed and gross in a universal way. Much of the abuse taken is portrayed as slapstick cartoon sound effects.

I think it also humanizes the other people that were there, like Nonnonba many of the characters in Onwards Towards Our Noble Deaths feel real and lived-in. Mizuki was even sympathetic to his garbage superiors because he didn't think they deserved to die in such a "noble" fashion. It also emphasizes that life is just kind of weird, some of the funniest moments are just average getting screwed over by nature like anyone would consider it weird and tragic to be suffocated by a fish. It's a delight to discover a cache of bananas when your most common battles are against hunger and malaria.

It's that kind of unabashed perspective that makes me believe that most of this happened. I believe that soldiers sing silly songs about showing alligators their junk—just to stave off the fear of dying, boredom, or homesickness. Despite being a depressing situation, it's not difficult to read. Its commentary still rings true. The most unbelievable aspect about it is that Mizuki was able to publish this story in 1971.

Mizuki also depicts the natural landscape of New Guinea as beautiful and awe-inspiring, even when tainted by the stench of death. I think the connection between Mizuki's fiction and nonfiction is the love of life and nature. He stated that he managed to revisit New Guinea and that most of the backgrounds are a combination of photo and memory.

Although there are no yokai in Onwards Towards Our Noble Deaths, its portrayal of war is terrifying. However, don't assume that ghosts are irrelevant, as Mizuki believes the ghosts of his comrades were driving the heat of his passion whenever the topic of war comes up.

Still, his passion for life seems like a big part of his influence as the yokai characters he creates are just as much living things—often emulating nature, animals, or even people. Many of them are not inherently good or bad, and his human characters are equally capable of great or malicious deeds. Even more modern interpretations of his stories carry this sort of ambiguity and it's why so many of his characters remain colorful.

They're also simply attracted by human emotions and watching things play out rather than simply acting on them. My favorite episode of the new Akuma-kun was episode four where it's ambiguous whether the two directors hated each other or cared about each other—cuz I can't resist getting sappy over art with other people!

Similarly, I do appreciate that it doesn't hold back on a lot of subjects. I thought the previous GeGeGe no Kitaro anime handled many mature and topical themes (like YouTubers running into traffic), but Akuma-kun has some very dark material for what is a legacy family property. However, I also consider that is very much in Mizuki's spirit because even his more kid-oriented stuff took his audience seriously and never tried to shelter the reality of things—despite being so fascinated with fantasy. I hope that's something that continues as we see more work celebrating his 100th birthday. Other than Akuma-kun, Toei is also planning an upcoming GeGeGe no Kitaro prequel film.

I think that says so much about the reason we tell stories. We tell stories to teach, we tell stories to fantasize, and we tell them to record and remember our experiences. Mizuki started creating his own stories at a young age and it's because of his life that we all get to enjoy them. I would like to enjoy more of Mizuki's original stories in English as we continue to get anime that are inspired by him. I had a fantastic time with Akuma-kun, GeGeGe no Kitaro, and Mizuki's autobiographical works—and I came to greatly admire him as a storyteller. It is a shame he's so unknown in English, but I believe stories are magic spells. Once cast, they will only grow more powerful through every person they touch. As a man who was so engrossed by notions of monsters and myth, Shigeru Mizuki certainly created a magic all his own.