I just returned from New York City. My husband and I emceed the first American Manga Awards at the Japan Society of New York, and did a panel discussion at AnimeNYC. This was fun and exciting stuff! The discussion was called the “Ultimate Yokai Panel,” and we were invited because of our long-selling 2008 book, Yokai Attack! The Japanese Monster Survival Guide. Yokai are, in the broadest terms, mythical characters from Japanese folklore. And Yokai Attack! was the first book to explain the concept of yokai to people outside of Japan. The idea was to make something that would let anyone, anywhere in the world, talk about yokai with Japanese people, and vice versa.
Anime NYC bills itself as a “showcase of the best Japanese Japanese pop culture in the biggest city in America.” It’s a gathering place for young fans of cutting-edge anime and manga and games, so to be honest, I was a little worried our subject might seem a little old-fashioned, even frumpy, for that cool-finding crowd. We wanted to talk about the historical, cultural, and literary roots of the characters that inspired flashy modern franchises like Ayakashi, Mononoke, and Demon Slayer, not the shows themselves. So I was worried we wouldn’t get much of a turnout.
But I was wrong. Not only did people show up – they filled the auditorium, three or so hundred of them! And they showed a keen interest in the subject. Until quite recently, distributors of Japanese content in translation often felt yokai were “too Japanese” for foreign audiences. They struggled with localizations, calling them “demons,” or totally reframing them. For instance, Koopa, the big bad boss from Super Mario Brothers, is a parody of a yokai called the kappa. But Nintendo renamed him Bowser for American audiences.
I knew that people abroad had the ability to enjoy yokai on the same level as Japanese audiences, if only they had the resources to understand them. Our book was intended as a tool to unpack yokai culture, to make it more approachable and digestible for those not raised on the folklore in Japan. The interest in the panel felt like those seeds we’d planted sixteen† years back had borne fruit. Later I found that Anime NYC had even highlighted the panel as one of the features of the day, in the official guide pamphlet.
I’d never been to an anime convention in America (or Japan!) so I had no idea what to expect. What I saw there was eye-opening. The “vibe” was entirely positive energy. Over a hundred thousand fans showed up at the Javits Center over three days, the biggest turnout in the event’s history. The diversity of the crowd was also striking. There were all kinds of people: different ages, genders, and orientations; differently abled, different races, different nationalities. All of them under one roof, many in elaborate costumes, and everyone having a great time.
I knew that there has been an explosion in interest for Japanese pop culture globally. But this was the first time I’d seen it with my own eyes, and it was really something. So many people laughing together, even though they’d never met before. And they were celebrating pop-culture from another country – my country! Even in Japan, anime and manga and games were long treated as subculture, unworthy of attention from healthy adults. During the 80s, when I was a schoolgirl, I clearly remember being actively discouraged from reading manga, and PTAs spent a great amount of time trying to keep kids away from arcades or watching anime that was seen as bad for them. Anime NYC shows how much things have changed – anime is no longer the “scourge” that it once was. Now it’s a respected export – the JNTO (Japan’s government-funded tourism association) and even the Japanese consulate had booths on the floor of the convention.
Here’s a video I shot on the floor of the show.
I was also impressed by how polite everyone was to each other. It isn’t that I expected anime fans to behave badly, but when you get this many young people in a room, shenanigans are inevitable. My husband told me that in the past, at gatherings like this, people tended to become louder, or perform aggressive stunts to grab attention. But in the era of TikTok, Instagram, and Youtube, you can film yourself and leave a mark without needing to grab the spotlight in the moment. Maybe this is a little-discussed good side of social media and streaming?
Because of this, I felt totally comfortable walking around, even though I was surrounded by strangers who were practically buzzing with excitement at being among their “tribe.” Perhaps it helped that I was wearing a yukata, the traditional Japanese casual kimono, which isn’t something you normally see in the States. I think many con-goers saw me as one of them – I was even approached several times for photos together. Many, particularly those cosplaying as Demon Slayer characters (who wear kimono in the series), asked where I’d gotten it, and where they might find one for themselves. I even found a pair of cosplayers dressed as characters from a manga that Matt and I had translated, called Dorohedoro. It was touching to see people who’d been so moved by the comic we’d worked on to make costumes for themselves. They were streamers, and we did a quick video with them. You can see it here.
I’m not exactly an anime fan, but it was energizing to be surrounded by people who identified with something they loved, and sharing it with others. I recall one moment in particular. A middle aged Black woman working the entrance desk complimented my yukata, and then told me that she’d sewn her own! This launched into a conversation about my own experiences studying kimono, and sharing stories of how challenging it could be to make them. Again, a moment of shared love for a subject – not a bad way to start the day.
At one point, I remarked to my husband that if this was any indication of how young people were living their lives, then I felt the future was in good hands. A celebration of shared interests, filled with excitement and joy, bridging race, gender, nationality, and any other artificial construct you can think of, bringing everyone together. These days I often feel like the world is standing at a crossroads: do we want to forge ahead in a spirit of positivity, or negativity? The participants of Anime NYC seemed to have found a tool to let them take the brighter path: making friends. That spirit of camaraderie is more than just fun – it’s a kind of currency that can be spent helping tackle the issues we face as a planet, together. Anime is just a form of illustrated entertainment, but at the convention I started to wonder if it might be something more, even a way to build global peace.
It was interesting to hear the perspective that social media has helped make the experience less aggressive.
Yes, congoers' experience with Japanese culture is definitely unbalanced (eg they know Shounen Jump much better than anything else), but they do actually know it and aren't interested in having it localized to be "less Japanese". If anything I think they like to keep a little too much now; even professional translations I see often get the meaning of 和製英語 wrong by leaving them in literally. (like getting ジュース from a vending machine is not "juice")
In the 2000s everyone really was loud and badly behaved but it stopped in the 2010s and I'm always surprised by how polite people are now. Along with early social media, I think the events got better at keeping people entertained, and cities developed more to do in the area around them.