Dearest Rachel –
I wouldn’t go so far as to suggest I owe you an apology for going back on my word – had life continued as we expected, with you still here, there would have been absolutely no question about whether or not we would continue to go to Anime Iowa, no reason for me to even consider skipping out on it – but as I did say I wouldn’t return, I suppose I owe you some sort of explanation.
It shouldn’t come as any surprise that, when there’s no one to meet somewhere, there’s little reason to go there. And as the remaining members of the fanfiction community drifted away from the convention scene, so it was with me. Again, with you at my side, that would be infinitely less of a concern; indeed, I would prefer being with you than any of those folks who I only get to see (at absolute best) once a year, but all things considered, that’s how it should be. But with neither, the point of attending rather disappears.
However…
I don’t know exactly when it came up – probably at some point late last year – I think the gang was getting together for one last meal in the alfresco district before it closed up for the season (although ironically – and you’re going to see that word a lot today – the streets were so crowded that we eventually got ourselves a seat inside one of the restaurants. I think it was the pizzeria, though, so while Erin would have been disappointed in not being able to eat outside, at least she had pizza). Anyway, Erin brought up something to the effect that she and several of her close friends from college were planning on going to the convention this coming year (as it served as a sort of mutually inconvenient hub for them to convene – more on that later), with the implied suggestion that I might be able to show them around the event, being a long-time veteran of it and all that.
It shouldn’t surprise you that this was more than enough to get me to reconsider. Not only would I be seeing a familiar face, but such a familiar face! And to be looked upon as a native guide to the exotic land of Otaku Nation, on top of it! I saw myself as Virgil to their collective Dante, shepherding them safely through the several circles of the convention.
To be sure, comparing Anime Iowa to the Inferno is more than a little harsh; in all honesty, Anime Central, with its regular “Anime Hell” and even “Hentai Hell” panel (which lead one to wonder why ‘lust’ is only considered the second circle out of the nine) would be a more apt comparison. And most conventions go out of their way to segregate the seedier stuff (either by time or location), so as to allow those who would rather enjoy a more family-friendly experience to do so. But for one not exactly steeped in otaku culture, it’s a daunting experience the first time around, no question. You probably still remember our first time, chatting up that one young man dressed in a sailor seifuku, who only half-jokingly spoke of how he enjoyed “freaking out the mundanes” with his getup. In fairness, the subculture wasn’t nearly so pervasive in 1998 as it is now, and we were sharing the hotel with a group of nuns, so freaking those “mundanes” out was something of a slam-dunk, but still…
So I can’t lie; I was actually looking forward to seeing how this would go. Of course, I had neither expectation nor intention of hanging around with Erin and her friends the whole time; the weekend was more for them to get together, as this was a mutually inconvenient place for them to do so, while also indulging in a little bit of cultural tourism of a sort. At best, I could be a guide on the occasional excursion they might want to take while they were there, and if they were so inclined; nothing more. And this was sufficient, as far as I was concerned.
However…
When Daniel and I returned from Japan, and I made to book my hotel for the convention (unfortunately, the room block opened while we were over there, and I missed out on the chance to get a room at the convention center – for the second year in a row, darnit!), I made a point of reminding Erin to make sure she and her friends had made the proper arrangements themselves, lest they miss out on the festivities. It was then that she informed me that they had decided to forgo the convention. Evidently, the one friend who had originally expressed an interest in going looked into the philosophical underpinnings of the convention and the organizing team behind it, and found it all… let’s just say, not to her liking… and didn’t want to support such. So that was the end of that.
In fact, they decided not even to bother convening in Coralville at all; even as I’m writing this, Erin is on the train to Kansas City, where she’ll meet up with one of her friends and drive up to LaCrosse, Wisconsin, where another one lives – see what I mean about it being mutually inconvenient to the convention? I think there’s a fourth Musketeer among them, but I can’t recall where she’ll be coming from, and as she’s apparently meeting the rest of them on her own, I suppose it’s of little importance.
So ironically, this leaves me more like Virgil than I had considered; or rather, more like the vast amount of his fictionalized eternity, as envisioned by Dante. Unable as a pagan to ascend to the celestial heights, but too virtuous to be subject to Hell’s true punishments (yes, Dante’s doctrine is ridiculous, but suspension of disbelief and all that), he and others like him are condemned to wander the forest encircling the gates of hell, each on their own, knowing that none of the endless days to come will ever be any better. It seems a mild enough fate (especially compared to those he guides Dante past throughout the various rings of the infernal city of Dis), but perhaps the knowledge that mistakes were made and cannot be corrected – to say nothing of the “what could have been” had he known the Truth – is punishment enough in its own way.
Of course, I’m only condemned to aimless wandering for the better part of three days; plus, I get out on the road for the first time in a year, as opposed to sitting around the house, staying out of the boys’ way for yet another weekend. So it’s not exactly a punishment, as far as I’m concerned – just infinitely less of a weekend out when it was with you.
***
Now, for all the teasing we used to give Erin (and I have to confess I still do from time to time, although I do try to dial it back) regarding her squeamishness regarding certain activities (and our own attitudes toward such activities), it’s ironic to note that it wasn’t her that was put off by such in the otaku community, as apparently delineated by the convention’s publicity. My guess is that her status as a “pega-sister” has, over time, rendered her more accepting of certain foibles in the fandom communities that she inhabits, because she’s had to deal with them, however reluctantly, in the past. She’s there to enjoy herself and the media she’s a fan of, and is (surprisingly, to me) willing to put certain things aside in order to do so. Unfortunately, not every one of her friends can, and so, this whole thing fell through for them. I do hope that whatever they have planned for themselves in lieu of this turns out to be every bit as enjoyable.
In a way, though, I can’t blame the girls. Things aren’t like they used to be in the anime fandom community. Back in the day, you might encounter characters like Sailor Bubba…
…whose cosplay was all meant in good fun; the guy was dressing like that, knowing full well it looked ridiculous (although in retrospect, it was a fairly well-done and well-fitting costume – it’s not like he looked “like ten pounds in a five-pound sack,” like your mom used to say), for the sheer laugh of it. The fact that his was such a notorious costume, celebrated even to this day on sites like Know Your Meme and all that, couldn’t have hurt, either.
But these days, you feel like you run the risk that some dude dressed like this would insist on being addressed as “she/her” (or worse, “they/them,” with all the associated “I am Legion, for we are many” vibes that go along with that sort of thing), and bellowing in your face if you dare to misgender “her.”
“Them.”
Whatever. Believe me, I understand them wanting to ‘nope’ out of such a thing.
And I’d like to claim that AI isn’t like that; it really is family-friendly, even compared to the likes of ACen and whatnot. But I can’t necessarily do that. It can be like Forrest’s box of chocolates, where you never know exactly what you’re going to get. And just like that kid from our first convention, some people really do like to “freak out the mundanes” – except that requires being so much more extreme than it used to. Some people will go to those extremes, and others will support such people in their deliberately obnoxious attempts to get into other people’s faces about it.
That sore of attention wh*ring is just the sort of thing that spoils fun for everyone. Not only are certain people (like Erin and her friends) missing out on the fun because they don’t feel welcome in the environment they’ve been led to believe they’re going to have to deal with, those very folks all but screaming “Look at me! I dare you to be offended! And if you are, you’re a @%#$ing bigot and blankphobe!” aren’t having any fun either; they’re too busy trying to get everybody’s attention, and wailing about the fact that much of it is negative.
Yui Ikari, Shinji’s disappeared mother (and, spoiler alert, the spirit inhabiting his Evangelion, thus protecting him) claimed that humanity was capable of creating a heaven within themselves. That may be an overly optimistic perspective, but I appreciate the sentiment. What’s clear to me is that humans are equally adept at manufacturing their own bespoke hells. Certainly, those trying to be bunself and kittenself seem to be. They don’t seem all that happy as birds, cakes or helicopters, and everyone around them (at least those who are aware of what they identify as – and if they don’t they needn’t worry, they’ll find out soon enough) is required to walk on eggshells around them.
Can’t we all just sit down in a screening room and just enjoy a show together?
Anyway, I’ve got to hit the road, honey. Keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 