This year on November 30 we lost one of the quintessential founders of the modern manga—one Shigeru Mizuki; the creator of the mega franchise GeGeGe no Kitaro (2 Live Action Movies, 6 television animes, 2 iterations as a manga, its own tourist trap, and still going with rustlings of yet another TV anime to come). The Kitaro series was and still is a huge cultural touchstone in Japan, so much so that Mizuki is actually considered one of the leading experts on traditional Japanese folklore because of it. Besides his work on the supernatural, Mizuki was also a World War II veteran—even losing his arm in the war—and was an established story teller for mature adult comic readers as well because of this—with hit manga such as Shigeru Mizuki's Hitler, Onward Towards Our Noble Deaths, and Showa 1926-1939: A History of Japan. Basically, Mizuki was a rare talent that could balance both young and mature readers alike, all because he wrote what he knew, and he knew the changes Japan went through from war, the horrors of war itself, and of course, he knew Japanese folklore—he knew it better than anyone else.
To rewind for a moment and help better frame the context of his life, Mizuki lived a long fruitful life and passed away at age 93. Remember, he was a solider during World War II more than 70 years ago now. When he eventually returned to Japan he actually started as a Kamishibai (紙芝居, or "paper theater”), a now antiquated Japanese form of entertainment. The Kamishibai was somewhat akin to a traveling puppet show but done with paper slides instead and had a serialized story, meaning it was done in episodes. The Kamishibai would travel from town to town with their cart, sell treats to the children, and entertain them with their stories. After they leave for the next few towns they would eventually come back to the previous ones with the next episode in their story. Kamishibai were cheap and easily accessible, which helped them during the postwar era of Japan, and can be seen somewhat as a precursor to manga, but when television did become more and more accessible to the Japanese it all but died out. Today Kamishibai is mostly a memory from a simpler time, being at best seen as a forgotten art form, and referenced in entertainment. Most recently a series of animated horror shorts called Yamishibai (or Dark Theater) was created in a similar fashion to the slides used in Kamishibai for the TV Tokyo Network. It has been streamed on Crunchyroll and was just picked up for domestic home video release by Sentai Filmworks.
Mizuki’s early work as a Kamishibai saw him telling the story of Hakaba Kitaro (or Kitaro of the Graveyard), written originally by Masami Itou in 1933. Mizuki was asked by his Kamishibai employers in 1954 to continue this story and so he did. Mizuki rendition of the classic serial was supposedly popular, but the Kamishibai industry itself was quickly on its way out, and Mizuki began work as a Rental Manga creator, at first struggling, until eventually he caught a break with turning Hakaba Kitaro into a manga series in 1960. For the uninitiated, Rental Manga was a concept of its time, since many people in postwar Japan could still not easily afford luxuries; much of their entertainment was actually rented, and not bought, so after paying a very small amount of yen to read a manga you would return it to the store, sort of similar to the library system.It was under a system like this that a lot of famous manga got their early starts.
GeGeGe no Kitaro circa 1968. The first time Kitaro and friends made it onto television. |
Of course, Rental Manga eventually became an antiquated thing of the past too, and as times changed, Mizuki more or less, kept the serialization going for Kitaro through different publishers and into the more modern concept of manga to be purchased. Throughout those years Hakaba Kitaro would transform into GeGeGe no Kitaro (i.e. Crickity Creak Kitaro or Spooooky~ Kitaro - with GeGeGe (ゲゲゲ) being a Japanese Onomatopoeia meant for scary locations) to better differentiate Mizuki’s rendition of the stories and accent other changes made during that time to the characters and tone of the manga. The name change in 1967 was solidified with the first TV anime in the following year, and the concept of the series from Kitaro being an indifferent observer of yokai and human alike into a full blown hero, and protector of humans from yokai; whose dream is for the peaceful coexistence of the two—made the series more action driven, and children loved it for that.
But what about Kitaro himself, I’ve written at length about some background info, but some of you may be scratching your head at just what Kitaro is. Well the gist of the story more or less is that it follows a one eyed ghost boy named Kitaro, whom was birthed in a graveyard, and is the sole remaining member of the yurei zoku (or Ghost Tribe). Kitaro is accompanied by Medama-oyaji (or Daddy Eyeball) aka what is left of his father: once a full ghost man (mummy?) himself now all that remains of this spirit is his eyeball, albeit, it is anthropomorphic, at least.
The two try their best to keep the delicate order of peace between the supernatural yokai (creatures of traditional Japanese folklore) and humans, while making sure the Ghost Tribe doesn't die out. Kitaro is able to fight back when needed through some moderate powers of his own such as shooting his own hair out like projectiles but he mostly gets by through clever gadgets he has. Together they encounter many returning characters such as Kitaro’s best friend and worst enemy Nezumi Otoko (or Rat-man), and others in their large ensemble cast of folklore creatures spanning not just from Japan, but even China, Europe, and America. It becomes a who’s-who of supernatural stories each week, and it’s easy to see how such a simple premise can carry a long way, especially with such rich detail on the folklore and all the creatures present in the series.
Promotional artwork for the 2008 noitaminA television anime: Hakaba Kitaro. This adaptation showed the original, more darker version of the story that had not yet been brought to television. |
It’s a bit unsettling, maybe even a bit creepy, but Mizuki’s writing remains a perfect balance of playful yet morbid all at the same time—with a fun sense of humor that never detracted from the overall tone. Perhaps more importantly though, is that Mizuki never shied away from being real in his work. Death obviously plays a huge role in every culture's folklore and Mizuki didn’t try to sugarcoat it, instead he embraced it in his stories. Death was a part of life, and the catchy Kitaro theme song that’s been on TV and in karaoke bars since the late 1960’s joyously boasts about how the characters never have to take tests or quiz, and how they never get sick again. Mizuki's depiction of the undead weren’t in pain, or unhappy, quite the contrary, the afterlife was a never ending party. Even the depictions of the afterlife as well, while true to the classic decor that one might expect out of hell: dark, eerie, otherworldly, and forbidding—wasn't all despair. No, instead the afterlife seemed to stick very close to being just another phase of life; and while we miss those who are separated from us, we all will eventually go there.
I always felt that death wasn’t something Mizuki wanted people to fear—in fact, fear in general seemed oddly missing from his Kitaro series. While it did indeed incorporate horror elements, especially that of American horror comics, and definitely may have spooked younger audiences, the take-away may not be what it seems on the surface, as it was actually the yokai, other supernatural entities, and folklore creatures who were on the end of extinction, not us humans. It was modernity that had weakened them and taken away their homes. Mizuki was the one who famously said that electricity did in the yokai more than anything else, as they can’t stand the bright city lights. This interestingly mirrors real life in a lot of ways as Mizuki watched on to see his country transform to become more western, and more “modern.” The folklore that he loved and grew up with was almost lost entirely to Japan, as it was thought to be more akin to their old, rustic ways of living, maybe even a bit hick-ish, actually. In a very literal sense modernity had all but wiped away the yokai, if not for Mizuki’s love and encyclopedic knowledge of the almost forgotten folklore, and how he brought it back into everyone’s homes with his manga, who knows what culture might have been lost otherwise.
Ushio & Tora, a 1990 manga with a currently (2015) airing anime. One of the many Yokai anime and manga franchises that follows Mizuki's basic framework. |
GeGeGe no Kitaro’s success lead to a boom in horror and yokai related stories in the mainstream media of Japan from then on, and many, many imitators came out riding its coattails in the late 60’s and early 70’s. Some of these imitators were rather good, being fondly remembered even today and have had their own reboots and sequels throughout the years, while others … are probably best left in the past anyways. Even more noticeable however is not the boom in horror/yokai themes that were created back then but the direct effect that Mizuki had left on that genre in total. Even to this day the basic backbone of every modern-day setting yokai story can be traced back to what Mizuki had written. Manga and anime like Kekkaishi, Natsume’s Book of Friends, Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan, Ushio & Tora, and Yo-Kai Watch, just to name a few examples—all follow in Mizuki’s footsteps that modernity has taken away the yokai’s strength and their homes, that humans have overpopulated and almost wiped away their presence, and that even worse, we choose to not believe in them anymore.
It’s hard to cry when the man who taught you not to fear death passes away; especially when he lived a fascinating and full 93 years, and will no doubt be remembered through his work for generations. Yet I was sad all the same when I did learn of his passing, and ever since then it gnaws at me that I haven’t seen any mainstream English anime or manga site really even do anything about it. There exist some great blog posts dedicated to Shigeru Mizuki for those who wish to read them, but sadly it seems his passing was all about ignored the next day by most. This really is what got me to write about him today, even if it’s the middle of December and doesn’t fit well with the Holiday Season. I do promise that next week will see something a bit more chipper and inline with the season, but for today, let's just remember what Mizuki has done, and be thankful for how much he helped to shape anime and manga, and maybe even a bit of Japanese culture, himself by keeping those old rustic stories alive. I know that while I'm playing my Yo-Kai Watch game in the coming weeks that I’ll feel a bit different knowing that they guy who debatably started it all is no longer with us. May he himself now party on for all eternity, in the afterlife he told us so many times before not to fear.