Panda Surprise!

 Whenever you find yourself enjoying something you've categorically put down your entire life, you always feel like an asshole. I know because I just finished reading the Volume 1 of 

Ranma 1/2 and it was awesome. 

 I've pretty much insisted that I hate manga as long as I can remember. Turns out, that's pretty easy to do when you've never read any (For the record, Miyazaki films do not count, as they are essential hipster art-house, just sayin'). I may have watched Sailor Moon a few times, but was pretty much the extent of my exposure until very recently...

I'm not necessarily eating all of my words. It's not as if I suddenly want to start running around in a pleated micro mini and knee socks giggling like a maniac, but I must admit Ranma 1/2 is undeniably entertaining. It's funny, the timing is great, the characters are incredibly endearing, and that just in the english version. 

 I can only imagine how much latent cuteness is lost in translation. I've heard people say that  German is a language meant for giving orders. I can only assume Japanese is a language created for the sole purpose of saying adorable things. What other culture has such an undying fascination with cute stuff? See: Hello Kitty, Asimo, Sushi, Pokemon. Ranma 1/2 is packed full of situations that are embarrassing in the cutest way possible. The main character involuntarily, yet quite comically, shifts from handsome young man to pig-tail sporting Lolita with just a splash of water. Also- the dad turns into a panda. Nothing is cuter then a panda. Obviously chaos ensues. But really cute chaos.

I can illustrate my "thesis" with two links, parts of an episode of the "Ranma 1/2" animated series. 

The first one is in Japanese with English subtitles. Tell me this isn't the cutest shit you've ever seen. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jMut0S93rRM

This one is the next part of the same epidsode, except it's been dubbed over by terrible English speaking actors. Boo. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O6a8ULj7W8M&feature=related

 

                                                                      I rest my case.

I draw, therefore I am miserable.

I was unaware that the creation of the graphic novel was the exclusive domain of sad people. In my brief and sporadic foray into its honorable legacy, I've gazed upon numerous beautifully rendered panels, appreciated hand lettered fonts, and traversed each facet of the proffered emotional landscapes. 

It hasn't exactly been a joyride. 

  

There's been irony, yes, and loneliness, alienation, apathy, bitterness, sarcasm, pain, and profound sadness. But happiness? Goodness no. God forbid we explore the sunny side. It seems both writers and inkers alike are on strict orders to encapsulate any inkling of a positive outlook that might sneak into a panel with clouds upon clouds of irony and foreboding. 

Here-I'll do a little name dropping. You won't miss the thread of nihilism and tears:

 -Blankets- Craig Thompson. Sad boy (victim of childhood sexual abuse) loves sad girl (forced to care for her mentally challenged brother in the wake of her parents vicious divorce). Do they end up together? No. No they don't. 

-Jimmy Corrigan- Chris Ware. Smartest kid in the world. SADDEST KID IN THE WORLD.

-Black Hole- Charles Burns. Main conflict motivator: teen alienation as fostered by a STDs that causes horrific mutations. 

And that's just my short list. Ah, youth. 

But why? Why must it be so? Did everyone in the 90's really hate life that much? I can just imagine all the authors together in some frozen Nebraskan basement, listening to The Smiths until they cried and their tears mixed with the dirt underneath their fingernails to make the ink which... Okay, too far. 

Perhaps the graphic novel as medium just isn't designed to convey joyful feelings. Maybe a glimmer of hope would piss off the target market. 

I wouldn't know. It's hot as hell where I live.