Cats And Other Things

novicomics:

PEOPLE BREAKING DOWN: V’S ANALYSIS OF RACE & IDENTITY IN SHORTCOMINGS This is part 2 of 3 in a series examining the three protagonists of Shortcomings by Adrian Tomine.Shortcomings originally held the working title White on Rice, and for good reason. If you’ve read it, you know that this comic focuses as much on a break-up as it does on the politics of race in relationships. The comic follows the story of Japanese American Ben Tanaka’s dissolution of his relationship with Japanese American Miko Hayashi. Throughout the rebound and recovery period, Ben and his close (only) friend, Alice Kim, begin a series of life-changing choices. In exploring the relationships of Ben Tanaka, Alice Kim, and Miko Hayashi, Adrian Tomine explores a different kind of Asian American character than we typically see in American media. Tomine uses each character to both support and deconstruct Asian American stereotypes. Shortcomings is about, more or less, how these characters deal with their race and sexuality, and all the sticky situations that happen after that. Today: we’re moving on from Ben Tanaka to explore the identity of his only friend, Alice Kim.• ALICE KIM. Alice Kim serves as the foil to Ben Tanaka: she’s loud, political, and as a lesbian, she has better luck in the pursuit of women than Ben. The fact that Alice is lesbian alone complicates traditional ways media presents Asian American women. Most representations of Asian and Asian American women fall back onto stereotypes that accentuate exoticness and sexiness. But because these stereotypes are created for the heterosexual (white) male viewer, Alice’s masculine lesbianism breaks this cycle. Instead, Alice pursues women. And her visual presentation is just as important as her sexuality, because that’s how we know her as lesbian. Tomine draws her as chubby, sporting short hair and plain clothing. Why is this a big deal? Because we rarely see butch lesbians anywhere in media, much less comics. When looking for lesbians on TV, in the movies, etc., it’s usually impossible to find masculine women—even Ellen appears in Covergirl ads and Rachel Maddow looks a bit more feminine on her NBC show. Rather, women who are more masculine become feminized in media presentation, because people expect women to stay feminine. By “people,” I actually mean a small group of heterosexual men and women that are, respectively, masculine and feminine. Here’s where we get into a complicated issue of biological sex and identity. To keep it simple, I think we can all agree that people born with two X chromosomes are mostly expected to wear make up, have breasts, wear dresses and heels to formal events, adore men’s pecs, and not have penises. So what about women who like breasts, who prefer to wear tuxedos, etc? Well, they usually get written out of mass-mediated stories. The rationale for this: if a lesbian is presented as feminine, straight men can still think she’s hot and straight women can still identify with her because she’s “ladylike.” If masculine ladies do appear, they’re typically demonized. Moreover, if a woman is lesbian, you rarely see her with other ladies (unless it’s pornography or a pop music video). Lesbians are sanitized so that they can be mistaken for straight women.* Tomine avoids this by showing Alice being intimate with her partner, Meredith Lee, and actively discussing her sex life. Alice’s sexuality is not merely a label transposed upon a sexy “Asian” lady in a Qipao. No, her sexual identity is essential to understanding her character. Alice also provides an extra shade in Shortcomings’ gradient of Asian American identity. Whereas Ben and Miko are Japanese American, Alice is distinctly Korean American. When “Asian” characters appear in stories, they tend to be marked as blanket “Asian.” This subtly erases nationalities and ethnicities therein (Japanese, Korean, Chinese, Indian, and so on), and forces Asian American characters to represent every national identity on a massive and diverse continent. Tomine avoids lumping Asian ethnicities by including multiple Asian American characters. Before attending a wedding with Ben, Alice points out an essential difference between the Japanese Ben and her Korean family. This scene provides us with a clearer sense of the characters and their respective heritages. This moment reveals an important generational difference between Alice and her parents: whereas Alice is an English-speaking liberal, her parents are Korean-speaking traditionalists. Though the scene itself gives us an interesting moment in Alice’s life, it also reinforces the idea that, once Asian parents have kids in the U.S., their children are magically American and the parents will never catch up. This wouldn’t be a problem if it wasn’t repeated so much in media — moreover, in media that rarely features Asian and Asian American characters to begin with. Apparently, characters can’t be Asian or Asian American: they must either be English-speaking and “modern” or foreign and “traditional.” This weird narrative theme occurred in one of the only TV shows ever to feature an Asian American cast, Margaret Cho’s All-American Girl. This show ran for a single season, and most of those plots revolved around Cho butting heads with her parents over things like dating. Rather than explore how her entire family was Asian and Asian American, the series reinforced a dichotomy between blanket-Asian old-world traditionalism (and backwardness) versus American modernity and freedom of the US.** Alice’s alternative sexuality and no-nonsense personality make her a “modern American.” Her parents, speaking in untranslated Korean, disapproving of her presented Japanese American boyfriend and, implicitly, her lesbian identity, are the “conservative Asians.” Throughout the comic, Alice rarely consumes Korean food, speaks in Korean, or exhibits any kind of Korean values, furthering her construction as an American stripped of Asian identity. There’s no problem with a character “lacking” cultural identity. But pitting Alice against her parents not only reinforces the idea that Asian and American cultures are totally opposite, but it also implies that Alice’s American mindset is better than that of her parents. This brings up another problem with Alice’s character: Alice seems like an altered version of a Margaret Cho type. Like her real-life counterpart, Alice is of queer sexuality and Korean descent. She speaks explicitly and crassly regarding personal affairs and, as explored above, struggles with her conservative Korean parents. Too much of Alice seems like a fictionalized version of Margaret Cho. It’s not everyday we see crass, Korean American women in media, so this repetition is pretty important to note. Take, for example, the Connie Chung phenomenon. While her status as news icon appears fairly innocent, and perhaps even “progressive,” her presence as news anchor brought about a slew of roles in movies, news shows, and sitcoms where Asian American women started playing news anchors. Back in the 80’s, local news channels hiring Asian American women on as news anchors and requested them to wear “exotic” hair and make-up for their shows. Today you’ve got Tricia Takanawa on Family Guy (a decided parody, but still a repetition). While Chung herself is not any kind of stereotype, the constant replication of “exotic” Asian women as newscaster solidifies expectations of Asian American women in the media. *** In the same way, Alice Kim’s character replicates Margaret Cho: a brash, funny, voluptuous Korean American woman, comfortably fitting in the queer spectrum. Though Tomine briefly acknowledges their similarity, this reference also points out the similarity to the reader, in case they had overlooked it. So while Alice is still a relatively complicated and unique character in terms of her lesbian identity, her similarity to Margaret Cho eclipses the individuality Tomine would like her to have. For further reading: * Ciasullo, Ann M. “Making Her (In)visible: Cultural Representations of Lesbianism and the Lesbian Body in the 1990s” from Feminist Studies, 2001. ** Kim, L.S. “Be the One You Want: Asian Americans in Television Culture, Onscreen and Beyond” from Amerasia Journal, 2004. *** Slaying the Dragon. Dir. Deborah Gee, 1988.

Victoria is brilliant, this is all.

PEOPLE BREAKING DOWN: V’S ANALYSIS OF RACE & IDENTITY IN SHORTCOMINGS

This is part 2 of 3 in a series examining the three protagonists of Shortcomings by Adrian Tomine.

Shortcomings originally held the working title White on Rice, and for good reason. If you’ve read it, you know that this comic focuses as much on a break-up as it does on the politics of race in relationships. The comic follows the story of Japanese American Ben Tanaka’s dissolution of his relationship with Japanese American Miko Hayashi. Throughout the rebound and recovery period, Ben and his close (only) friend, Alice Kim, begin a series of life-changing choices. In exploring the relationships of Ben Tanaka, Alice Kim, and Miko Hayashi, Adrian Tomine explores a different kind of Asian American character than we typically see in American media. Tomine uses each character to both support and deconstruct Asian American stereotypes. Shortcomings is about, more or less, how these characters deal with their race and sexuality, and all the sticky situations that happen after that.

Today: we’re moving on from Ben Tanaka to explore the identity of his only friend, Alice Kim.

• ALICE KIM.

Alice Kim serves as the foil to Ben Tanaka: she’s loud, political, and as a lesbian, she has better luck in the pursuit of women than Ben. The fact that Alice is lesbian alone complicates traditional ways media presents Asian American women. Most representations of Asian and Asian American women fall back onto stereotypes that accentuate exoticness and sexiness. But because these stereotypes are created for the heterosexual (white) male viewer, Alice’s masculine lesbianism breaks this cycle.

Instead, Alice pursues women. And her visual presentation is just as important as her sexuality, because that’s how we know her as lesbian. Tomine draws her as chubby, sporting short hair and plain clothing. Why is this a big deal? Because we rarely see butch lesbians anywhere in media, much less comics. When looking for lesbians on TV, in the movies, etc., it’s usually impossible to find masculine women—even Ellen appears in Covergirl ads and Rachel Maddow looks a bit more feminine on her NBC show. Rather, women who are more masculine become feminized in media presentation, because people expect women to stay feminine. By “people,” I actually mean a small group of heterosexual men and women that are, respectively, masculine and feminine.

Here’s where we get into a complicated issue of biological sex and identity. To keep it simple, I think we can all agree that people born with two X chromosomes are mostly expected to wear make up, have breasts, wear dresses and heels to formal events, adore men’s pecs, and not have penises. So what about women who like breasts, who prefer to wear tuxedos, etc? Well, they usually get written out of mass-mediated stories. The rationale for this: if a lesbian is presented as feminine, straight men can still think she’s hot and straight women can still identify with her because she’s “ladylike.” If masculine ladies do appear, they’re typically demonized. Moreover, if a woman is lesbian, you rarely see her with other ladies (unless it’s pornography or a pop music video). Lesbians are sanitized so that they can be mistaken for straight women.*

Tomine avoids this by showing Alice being intimate with her partner, Meredith Lee, and actively discussing her sex life. Alice’s sexuality is not merely a label transposed upon a sexy “Asian” lady in a Qipao. No, her sexual identity is essential to understanding her character.

Alice also provides an extra shade in Shortcomings’ gradient of Asian American identity. Whereas Ben and Miko are Japanese American, Alice is distinctly Korean American. When “Asian” characters appear in stories, they tend to be marked as blanket “Asian.” This subtly erases nationalities and ethnicities therein (Japanese, Korean, Chinese, Indian, and so on), and forces Asian American characters to represent every national identity on a massive and diverse continent. Tomine avoids lumping Asian ethnicities by including multiple Asian American characters. Before attending a wedding with Ben, Alice points out an essential difference between the Japanese Ben and her Korean family. This scene provides us with a clearer sense of the characters and their respective heritages.

This moment reveals an important generational difference between Alice and her parents: whereas Alice is an English-speaking liberal, her parents are Korean-speaking traditionalists. Though the scene itself gives us an interesting moment in Alice’s life, it also reinforces the idea that, once Asian parents have kids in the U.S., their children are magically American and the parents will never catch up. This wouldn’t be a problem if it wasn’t repeated so much in media — moreover, in media that rarely features Asian and Asian American characters to begin with. Apparently, characters can’t be Asian or Asian American: they must either be English-speaking and “modern” or foreign and “traditional.” This weird narrative theme occurred in one of the only TV shows ever to feature an Asian American cast, Margaret Cho’s All-American Girl. This show ran for a single season, and most of those plots revolved around Cho butting heads with her parents over things like dating. Rather than explore how her entire family was Asian and Asian American, the series reinforced a dichotomy between blanket-Asian old-world traditionalism (and backwardness) versus American modernity and freedom of the US.**

Alice’s alternative sexuality and no-nonsense personality make her a “modern American.” Her parents, speaking in untranslated Korean, disapproving of her presented Japanese American boyfriend and, implicitly, her lesbian identity, are the “conservative Asians.” Throughout the comic, Alice rarely consumes Korean food, speaks in Korean, or exhibits any kind of Korean values, furthering her construction as an American stripped of Asian identity. There’s no problem with a character “lacking” cultural identity. But pitting Alice against her parents not only reinforces the idea that Asian and American cultures are totally opposite, but it also implies that Alice’s American mindset is better than that of her parents.

This brings up another problem with Alice’s character: Alice seems like an altered version of a Margaret Cho type. Like her real-life counterpart, Alice is of queer sexuality and Korean descent. She speaks explicitly and crassly regarding personal affairs and, as explored above, struggles with her conservative Korean parents. Too much of Alice seems like a fictionalized version of Margaret Cho. It’s not everyday we see crass, Korean American women in media, so this repetition is pretty important to note.

Take, for example, the Connie Chung phenomenon. While her status as news icon appears fairly innocent, and perhaps even “progressive,” her presence as news anchor brought about a slew of roles in movies, news shows, and sitcoms where Asian American women started playing news anchors. Back in the 80’s, local news channels hiring Asian American women on as news anchors and requested them to wear “exotic” hair and make-up for their shows. Today you’ve got Tricia Takanawa on Family Guy (a decided parody, but still a repetition). While Chung herself is not any kind of stereotype, the constant replication of “exotic” Asian women as newscaster solidifies expectations of Asian American women in the media. ***

In the same way, Alice Kim’s character replicates Margaret Cho: a brash, funny, voluptuous Korean American woman, comfortably fitting in the queer spectrum. Though Tomine briefly acknowledges their similarity, this reference also points out the similarity to the reader, in case they had overlooked it. So while Alice is still a relatively complicated and unique character in terms of her lesbian identity, her similarity to Margaret Cho eclipses the individuality Tomine would like her to have.

For further reading:
* Ciasullo, Ann M. “Making Her (In)visible: Cultural Representations of Lesbianism and the Lesbian Body in the 1990s” from Feminist Studies, 2001.

** Kim, L.S. “Be the One You Want: Asian Americans in Television Culture, Onscreen and Beyond” from Amerasia Journal, 2004.

*** Slaying the Dragon. Dir. Deborah Gee, 1988.