INTRODUCTION
This is one of the first pieces of writing I did for my CEAS major, but it had wider implications for my academic trajectory. As a child, I’ve always loved the studio Ghibli movies. After discovering Japanese bebop Jazz I ended up gravitating towards other musical avenues and found Joe Hisaishi, the composer for many of the Studio Ghibli soundtracks. Ghibli movies were one of the few Japanese productions I watched with my whole family, as everyone loved them. Ghibli movies as a connection to my family became so deeply engrained in me, my love for the movies reaching an all time high, that when we were tasked with picking independant avenues for research during my CEAS proseminar class, I jumped at the opportunity to examine the films in an academic context. Particularly, I was fascinated by how Miyazaki portrayed the every day, despite his usual fantastical settings. When I was young, my sister and I used to play the Howl’s moving Castle soundtrack while cleaning—pretending we were Sophie cleaning the moving castle or hanging up laundry. These movies were incredibly meaningful for me, and contributed to my excitement of learning more about the Japanese culture which produced them.
Miyazaki and Writing the Everyday
Miyazaki’s narratives tend to be very character-driven. His films depict people’s stories in a way that’s reminiscent of Ethnographer Abu-Lughod’s idea of “Writing Against Culture”. Lughod posits that Ethnography can break away from its essentializing and homogenizing tendencies by “Writing The Everyday.” Rather than focusing on a cultural “other,” she suggests Tactical Humanism: writing everyday life without the focus on culture or identity. Miyazaki takes a similar approach in the construction of his narratives. Although his settings are often separated from reality through fantastical elements, they draw attention to the mundane. In fact, some of the most memorable scenes in his films are when the story homes in on day-to-day moments and imbues them with a magical quality. Calcifer may be a magical talking fire-spirit but why not enlist him to help cook up a spectacular breakfast? Just make sure to clean out the ashes from his fireplace when you’re done! Or ask the cursed turnip-head scarecrow to help you dry your laundry by acting as a clothesline? Miyazaki has mastered the art of Writing Against Culture to remind audiences that if we look closely, our world carries a sense of magic within it.
Miyazaki imbues his stories with a fantastical quality that allows him this freedom of expression of what it means to exist in a community that isn’t rooted in cultural essence but rather on the shared mundane experiences of day-to-day life, whether it be cooking, cleaning, shopping, or doing the laundry. By walking this middle ground between fantasy and reality Miyazaki is free to explore ideas of belonging that transcend all borders and avoids the homogenizing tendencies of a static imagined society.
But Miyazaki’s magical worlds let him do more than just rethink notions of belonging, they give him the ability to craft wonderfully happy endings. Ultimately Miyazaki’s audience is children; he aims to make films that “will cheer them on and encourage them to live in a healthy way” (Miyazaki). Far from reality, the fantastical nature of Howl’s Moving Castle allows the war to be ended with true love’s kiss and imparts a sense of satisfaction on the viewers. As a director, Miyazaki communicates to the audience through his art the notion that, despite the darker elements of life, our world is magical. Through his movies, children are reminded that if they look closely, they’ll find that there’s magic all around them.
Works cited
Abu-Lughod, Lila. Writing Against Culture, 137-162. 1991.
Miyazaki, Hayao, director. Howl’s Moving Castle. Studio Ghibli, 2004. 1hr., 59 min.
Miyazaki, Hayao, et al., Starting Point 1979~1996. VIZ Media LLC, 2009.
