The Eastern Edge

After many delays, including overwritten files, misplaced copies of Quick Japan, and a broken computer that took forever to get serviced and returned, here at long last is the 6th and final part of the Quick Japan interview with Naoki Urasawa.

I rushed to throw this together as soon as my computer came back and only did a quick proofread, so please forgive any typoes and awkward bits - I'll fix them as I find them.
Sorry for the poor quality iPhone camera pics, they will be replaced with better quality soon.

For those who've just joined us, the previous installment of the interview is here.

Quick Japan: I’d like to ask you about Osamu Tezuka. You’ve publicly stated your adoration for Mr. Tezuka many times, haven’t you?

Urasawa: I’ve learned so much from him. Not only me, there isn’t a single mangaka who hasn’t felt his impact.

Q: It’s often said that when Gekiga came out, Mr. Tezuka lost sight of his own direction. However, I don’t think that’s the case. On the contrary, because of the rise of Gekiga, his designs could be clearly differentiated, and if he wanted to draw the same way as you, he is someone who could have anyway. Listening you want you were just saying about Mr. Tezuka, I thought that maybe what you have inherited from him is a sense of “a strength that may be at times conflicted, but never gets lost.”

U: To say it in my own words, I think it’s “a good sense of malevolence.” But it’s difficult (to express).

Q: The other day I went to a really interesting exhibit called ”Tezuka gene: Light in the Darkness”. It featured many different creators who’d made pop art using a Tezuka motif. That (the Tezuka motif) interested me, but I also went to see the participating creator’s original work, too. But when I looked at the work, it all felt too square and not like pop at all. It’s one thing to like Tezuka, but I felt that on top of that, taking the style of presentation that Tezuka aspired to until he died, and the future intention and purpose of his work, and combining it with their own work is what really would establish them as creators.

U: I see.

Q: It was then that I felt I understood the real reason that you had to create “Pluto”. It’s a remake of the famous story within the story of Astro Boy, the "The Greatest Robot on Earth" story arc, isn’t it? I think that doing this would have been impossible if you weren’t prepared to think “I don’t care if this is the end of my career”.

U: I didn’t have that kind of determination. Well, it all began because I once blurted out “I wonder if there’s anyone who has the backbone to make a serious remake of "The Greatest Robot on Earth"?” Then everyone seemed to look at me like “You do it!”, and I was like “No, way! I can’t!” But when I started discussing it with Mr. Nagasaki, it got so interesting to me that I didn’t want to give this to anyone else, so I ended up doing it myself (laughs). I also felt that because we were there to witness the “light” that was Tezuka Osamu in real time, if we don’t preserve the memory and pass it on then the next generation may never really understand.
I haven’t finished Pluto yet so I don’t know what kind of work it will end up being. People don’t usually understand the meaning of what they’ve done until they’ve finished. However, now, when I draw a scene of Astro Boy flying, for some reason it’s heart wrenching. But I don’t know why that is. Maybe it’s because even after Astro Boy’s birth year of 2003, the dream of building a robot like that still hasn’t been made a reality. If it were “Tetsujin #28”, the ultimate weapon of the Japanese army being finished in the days after the war, we have a specific chronology. But with Astro Boy、 it was a vision from the 1950’s of a time still half a century away, so it’s completely different. At first glance Tetsujin #28 may seem like the more romantic story, but the degree of overwhelming hope and despair in Astro Boy is far greater.

Q: It’s true that the face of your Astro Boy seems to have a sadness about it. It’s raining in the first scene he appears in…

U: I think that first scene is somewhat symbolic. But still, even I don’t know what’s behind that sad mood. I talk to my assistants a lot about it, wondering “Why is it so sad every time this character shows up?” You know that song from the Beach Boy’s album Pet Sounds called “I Just Wasn't Made for These Times”? I think I can describe the mood as being something like that. That song sort of alludes to the album “Smile”, which was supposed to be the follow-up to Pet Sound but was never released. Maybe it’s that sadness of something destined never to be born that I hits me every time I draw Astro Boy. It’s like Astro Boy had to bear the contrasting feelings hope and despair for the 50 years it took to pass it’s own birth year…

Q: Was Pluto always intended to have a different look for Astro Boy and other characters from that of Tezuka’s style?

U: Yes. I have production notes from the very first meeting that I handed to Makoto Tezuka, which I’m thinking of releasing with the next installment. What I drew an instantly recognizable Astro Boy on those notes. Also, I’d already drawn an example of Astro Boy and the rainy scene. The reason I drew a rainy scene was because I wanted to hide his trademark horns with a hood. I had the horns covered by the hood so that when Gesicht asks “Are you Astro Boy?”, he would answer “Yes”, remove the hood, and we’d then see the horns. Then Makoto Tezuka told me, “I don’t want you to copy my father, I want you to draw this in your own style.” That really put the pressure on (laughs). But I did manage to create something in my own style.

Q: This year marks your 25th year as a comic creator, and now as a musician you've released your first album. What are your thoughts now when you look back at making your album?

U: If I’d done this when I was young I probably would have had people think I was pretty full of myself (laughs). So, I’m really glad that I waited until this age to do it. I suffered for a decade to become a comic creator, but I suffered a few decades to do music (laughs). I still can’t handle all aspects, but I’ve had the support of some great musicians, so all in all I think I did pretty good for a beginner (laughs). I wrote “Bob Lennon” on the night of 9/11 so I thought I did a good job of controlling my emotions and keeping the songs content abstract.

Q: Bob Lennon has some really good humor in it, like the “Over the earth, morning comes…” Akireta Boys parody. So it was funny that it was establish even though sung at Asakusa Engei Hall (laughs).

U: Aaah, a lot of people didn’t get that. I put in “Guutara Suudara” figuring people would get it then for sure. I think humor is very important to rock music. Also, something that’s characteristic of my generation was the wide range that was allowed in music. At any rate, when I was a kid I watched music shows for the group sounds I liked, but also had to watch others like Mahina Stars and Los Primos. Now people can record shows and only watch what they like and what they are interested in, but I don’t think this culture of choice is a good thing at all. You should take in things that you don’t like sometimes.

Q: To say that you should have a positive attitude towards taking in things you don’t like is very stoic of you.

U: Well, by doing that your perception of things might change, right? The important thing is having that opportunity. It’s not about stubbornly breaking through things you hate. It’s the importance of analyzing those things you dislike, because maybe you’ll realize that it’s just that you didn’t know enough about it. That’s why the more I hate something the more I think I should look into it (laughs). By doing that, maybe tomorrow I’ll start liking a J-pop band I hate, or maybe I’ll even end up liking Deep Purple (laughs).

Q: Why do you hate deep purple?

U: The feeling that they’re trying to too hard to compile a bunch of different things in their sound isn’t cool. Anyway, it’s constant research. Its kind of like, I like Led Zeppelin because it is rooted in black music, and I don't like Deep Purple because it's rooted in classical.

Q: Did you ever copy?

U: Yeah. But something I have in common with Producer Koji Wakui is that neither of us can really shred. [note: “shredding” refers to playing fast passages on lead guitar].

Q: So you played American Rock because you can’t shred… That sounds like a typical kid's band (laughs). But when I saw you perform live, I was impressed by the command of the groove you had in your guitar playing.

U: I didn’t notice this myself, but Koji Wakui says that I have sound that’s a little like Neil Young.

Q: I think I could kind of tell that by the black Les Paul that Kenji plays in the rock festival at the end of 20th Century Boys.

U: Ah, that’s true. I just thought that those high output humbuckers would have a great sound for that venue (laughs). Also, Kenji’s band is a three-piece band so that Les Paul sound really fits. I guess I was dwelling on details that no one really cares much about, eh? (laughs)

Q: What sort of vision to you have of your activities from now on?

U: If my readers respond to it, I feel that Billy Bat could be big. However, creating comics takes a lot more mental and physical energy than maybe the average person thinks, so we’ll have to see how it goes. My predecessors tended to die in their sixties, so I'm also getting to the point where I can’t really do anything crazy.
But also, doing something that’s “Realistic” and kind of taking it easy won’t produce something that readers will enjoy either, will it? People want to read masterworks.

Q: Currently, what’s your creative process for the comic you make?

U: Firstly I have a meeting with my co-plotter Nagasaki, but when I do that I turn off the comic creator in me and become Urasawa the producer so I have no problem saying things that comic creators would hate. The producer in me does what suits him and says all kinds of things with no consideration to the burden on the creator at all (laughs). After that I go back to the studio, look at my meeting notes, and the comic creator in me screams “Man, what a pain!” (laughs). Anyway, that’s what meetings are like. A little while ago I was watching NHK's “The Professional” and when Mr. Hayao Miyazaki was making Ponyo and saying “What a pain. What a pain” all the time, I thought “I know the feeling!” (laughs).

Q: With your art, there are things you leave to your assistants to do, right?

U: Hmmm... I would like to leave some things to them, but to satisfy myself I draw very complete drafts, including the backgrounds. I feel somewhat like an Edo era craftsmen in that I must keep my deadlines nut maintain quality at all costs. Yeah, I like craftsmen. They take their keen interest in a certain standard of doing things, create a product that strictly adheres to that, and then nonchalantly show it to the world. On the other side of that, they are very strict with their disciples, saying things like, "You fool, how can I show people something like this!?" Our studio is surprisingly similar to that.

Q: (laughs) By the way, what's your method of catharsis?

U: That would be... What? (laughs). Searching through the records at a record shop. Also, recently I've been listening to ex-Fleetwood Mac guitarist Lindsey Buckingham's latest album, and I like Dylan's and Neil Diamond's new ones. I'd like young people to listen too. I like listening to new music by the musicians I like, and picking up old vinyl at the used record store, waiting until everyone's gone to sleep and dropping the needle on it late at night. While listening to that music I think, "Life is good!"

Q: For you, you don't really have to even spend time choosing records. You could buy whatever you want...

U: No, that would be no fun at all. You think about if it would be an interesting addition to the collection or not, right? The other day I found a copy of Yoko Hatanaka’s album “Hakujitsumu” with the nude poster insert and the band around it (laughs). I see that and I think that it would be an interesting addition to my shelf, but then I don't want kids to see it. I think it's important to consider things like that. Is this is really okay? Maybe it isn't. Considering things like that becomes really useful for creators.

In any case, I think deep down I’m probably always considering whether things are okay for me or not. It’s like I’m weighing things to evaluate them…

Q: You've talked about that balance in the past; that balance of okay and not okay when you create. What is it that you are weighing?

U: Well, it's not really that big a deal. If I just say it with words it's actually pretty simple, so it's more interesting if I don't say it, so I won't (laughs).

Q: Can you give me an example of someone who gets that sort of feeling?

U: Hmm. Recently, Perfume (laughs).

Q: Whether it be music or comics, what are your thoughts on ‘expression’?

U: The truth is, I think that whether it’s singing in front of people, drawing comics, or making movies, that the act of expressing oneself is kind of embarrassing. The coolest position you can be in is to not have to transmit anything. Just standing there leaning to one side with your hands in your pockets, maybe tossing out the odd complaint once in a while, is the easiest thing you can do (laughs). But nothing cultural comes out of that, so if though you feel shy or embarrassed, you do it. To create something that transcends that shyness, think it through exhaustively, overcoming quality hurdles, and making something that will reach a wide audience is the work I do every time. The act of picking up a guitar and playing it is something that is very embarrassing to me (laughs), and it’s no good if people look at me fondly and coddle me along. When a kid says something like, “I want to be a comic artist!” the parents have to try and stop them (laughs). Of course the same goes for being a street musician. You have to not care about getting caught. Even though your parents are against you becoming a comic creator, you want to draw comics so you do. I think that starting off with that kind of feeling will usually lead to something.
Also, the most important thing is probably that you are your own strictest customer. The truth is that Naoki Urasawa is the most evil customer (laugh).

THE END

I didn't have time to annotate some of the references this time, but I will add that in when I re-edit and collect this entire interview into a single file with more illustrations and pics, and lots more annotation.
I expect to have that ready by November.

In the meantime, there is more new Urasawa stuff (among other things!) coming soon.

Until then...