False Feminism in the Korean Media
Introduction
Yesterday I made the mistake of looking through one of Korea’s English-language dailies, The Chosun Ilbo. I know, I know…what was I thinking? For sure, Western tabloids are also full of “news” articles that don’t stand up to more than two minutes of analysis by anyone with critical thinking skills, but then their anti-intellectualism is not only acknowledged but is precisely what makes them so appealing to their audiences. In contrast, I dare say that the overwhelmingly Korean readers of the Chosun Ilbo, Korea Herald, and Korea Times think of themselves as a pretty sophisticated bunch, something not helped by copies of them sometimes featuring prominently in the backgrounds of advertisements and in the foyers of larger businesses.
Don’t get me wrong: being a Westerner in Korea, then I too have always felt pretty sophisticated reading Korean-language news articles on the subway myself. But being a blogger parent too means that half-hour(s) all to myself are increasingly few and far between, so these days I’m genuinely grateful for what are sometimes my only chances to study Korean on a weekday. Still, with a pencil, soy grande latte, eraser, clipboard, electronic dictionary and briefcase to carry, then like Korean students of English I too like my study material to be eye-catching, short and not require too much thinking.
Hence this English article about “alpha girls”, and what commuter wouldn’t rather read something about dating and relationships in another language over, say, the Korea-US FTA? But I say that it’s “false feminism” because, while I strongly suspect that the (unnamed) author patted him or herself on the back for giving Korean alpha girls some much overdue attention, what is actually said about them perpetuates a number of sexist stereotypes about confident and/or assertive women. In short, it’s trash, and I sincerely hope that enough Korean readers did in fact stop to put their dictionaries down for a moment and realise just how bad it was.
Here it is in full, with my comments and emphases, but with a little less time spent on editing than I would usually spend…sorry, but then in this case my instinctive and immediate reactions to it are probably the most apt.
Alpha at Work, Omega at Life: Korea’s Superwomen
“Others envy my daughter, who’s a doctor, but she’s a pain in the neck to me,” grumbles Hwang (61) concerning her 35-year-old single daughter. “Who would understand my worries?” Just that morning, the daughter rang asking her mother to take care of her unpaid electricity bills. Hwang used to brag about her doctor daughter, but now she is starting to worry about how much longer she will have to look after her. Kim, in her 50s, shares the same concerns about her daughter, a university instructor. She’s appalled that her educated daughter has declared to marry a divorced man, and that she was the one who asked him for his hand.
Mothers of so-called alpha girls — girls or women who beat their male counterparts in all areas from academic prowess to sports — have a tough job in Korea. For while their daughters are exceptional in their work and abilities, many are hopeless when it comes to practicalities such as dating or managing their money.
Despite what people may think, I’m not going to make too much of Kim being appalled at her daughter marrying a divorcee and asking him herself; she is mistaken for sure, but her beliefs are hardly confined to Korean middle-aged women. But “many are hopeless when it comes to practicalities such as dating or managing their money”? Okay, call me picky, but:
- how many exactly?
- how do we know that they were hopeless…were they given tests? (the dating one would have been interesting)
- why does them being hopeless at both have everything to do with their jobs, but nothing to do with the fact that the Korean education system leaves both (ordinary) men and women shit-scared of the opposite sex in their early-20s, or that the structure of the housing and service industries here confines 20-somethings to living with their parents, where their mothers will usually remain all too happy to cook, clean, and wash their clothes for them, and to whom young adults will usually contribute most if not all of their incomes?
- even if true, why do only alpha women lack these skills, whereas alpha men, raised in the same environment, don’t? Or if they do in fact lack them too, why is only women lacking them newsworthy?
I’m not at all saying that all Korean 20-somethings are impractical and mommy-coddled; in fact, I argued the exact opposite in a forum back in March. My point is more that the reason for young Koreans having those flaws may (and probably do) have little to do with their jobs. Alternatively, it may well be true that career-minded alpha females are “less practical” than less-driven women simply because they have so little time and energy for housework given Korea’s long, albeit not particularly productive working hours. But I can’t say I blame them if it remains normal and socially acceptable for their brothers to get away with doing no housework at all, their wives merely taking over from their mothers upon their marriage. I’m still waiting for the Korean media to pick that one up, although the last point of this article is a start.
Alpha at Work, Omega in Love
Experts say it’s no coincidence that alpha girls often prove omega girls (from the last letter in the Greek alphabet) when it comes to romance. Whang Sang-min, a professor of psychology at Yonsei University, says alpha girls are obsessed with having to excel in everything and more likely to form unsuitable relationships, attracted as they tend to be to older men and lacking the needed concern for the partner’s financial capacity.
Park Jin-seng, the director of Dr. Park’s Psychiatric Clinic, says these women unconsciously dislike men they have to compete with, so they gravitate toward men with lowlier jobs than theirs or even no job at all.
Again, evidence? And yes of course, assertive alpha girls’ unsuitable relationships surely have everything to do with their “obsession to excel”, and nothing at all with Korean mens’ general (if media images are anything to go by) preferances for passive, submissive women who act like children.
Eyesore to Mothers
When they become alpha mums, such women often pass on the duty of child rearing and homemaking to their mothers. Hahm In-hee, a sociology professor at Ewha Womans University, says alpha girls in the West leave their parents early so they become superwomen in both work and real life, but here lack of independence is to blame for their Korean sisters’ lack of competencies in real life.
Rigggght…only alpha mums expect their mothers to raise their children for them. Their inability to do so themselves has nothing at all to do with the facts (all covered here) that:
- there is a severe shortage of affordable childcare facilities in Korea, and laws requiring companies with 300+ employees to provide them for free are universally ignored
- that the government lacks the resources and manpower to ever check to see that they are all sanitary and that the care is up to a required standard
- that reports of children being fed crap at them and becoming sick are in the news regulary
- that Korean companies and lawmakers are still in the mindset that women should quit work upon getting married, and thus already minimal maternity leave and sexual-discrimination laws are rarely enforced
- that consequently almost all working women, alpha mums or otherwise, must either rely on relatives for childcare, have less or no children, or give up their careers
Naaah, bad parenting skills are confined to only Korean women who want children and a career. Shame on them!
Excessive Protection a No-No
“Alpha girl” originally means a woman thoroughly capable of self-management in all aspects of life. But in Korea, the job element is inflated, distorting the true meaning. Prof. Hwang points out that many parents, bent on raising studious daughters, are neglecting the competencies needed to manage a full life. Park, too, advises parents to acknowledge their daughters as independent beings and instill that mindset in them.
Sounds like the audacity of wanting to have a career is the only damn defining thing of these alpha girls to me, at least in the way the Chosun Ilbo describes them. Still, I shouldn’t have expected anything more coherent than that: earlier in the year, there was another article in the same paper about “Gold Misses” whom, despite having much virtual ink spilled on them, were all linked by nothing more tangible than making more than 40 million won a year.
Serves me right for having some faith that the English language media here was getting better, yes?
Why do the Japanese Like Karaoke so Much? (Part 2)
( “Shibuya Nights” by WasabiNoise )
To recap, Part One was about Bill Kelly’s outlining and debunking of common theories of why karaoke is so popular in Japan, whereas this post will be about his own theory. New readers, please read that first; everybody else, let’s jump straight in.
The Agony and the Ecstasy
To Kelly, one of the defining features of karaoke is the solo performance. That is less of a no-brainer than it sounds: usually descriptions of karaoke (over)emphasize the group aspects of it, whereas it’s really just one guy or girl singing in front of others. Unlike most other forms of entertainment though, especially karaoke as it’s performed in counties like England, it’s amazing how few participants in Japan actually do want to sing, and I don’t mean in the sense that they’d rather be at home with their families (although that’s true too). Consider this:
…it is no easy thing to stand before a group and sing. Trembling hands, shaking voices, and nervous faces reveal the stress many experience at the moment they are selected. (p.80)
Despite the impression I may give in these two posts, I don’t dislike karaoke and/or singing per se. Actually, I sing around the house all the time, albeit usually rude versions of the children’s songs I have to entertain my daughter with, and would go to a song room (노래방) myself every once in a while if they had a wider selection of songs and if I could find a babysitter. But I’d be going alone, for I simply suck. At what I termed the “salaryman karaoke” sessions however, that wouldn’t matter, for:
…regardless of the performance quality, participants are invariably met with a sympathetic and encouraging response from others in the group for their efforts.
And:
When the ordeal is over, it is normal for the performer to experience a rush of relief and a feeling of gratitude to the others for their help. From that point…he is deep into the group emotionally, for he has revealed his humanity and been accepted by the others…
( Source: Dave77459 )
So it’s not really about singing…and in this form, was it ever really? What was the purpose then?
The willingness of an individual to perform in turn despite a reluctance, or even an abhorrence of doing so, is an indication of his or her dedication and commitment to the goals and aims of the collective whole. The solo performance within this context is an implicit acknowledgment by the performer that the objectives to the collectivity, and the relationships upon which achieving those objectives depend, transcend personal fears and insecurities with respect to singing. Through singing, the individual expresses to others in his or her circle that they are people – not individually, but collectively – among whom personal sacrifices can (and must) be made, and individual weaknesses exposed.
Karaoke as a Discipline
( Source: unknown )
That paragraph speaks for itself, but despite the corporatist overtones, in many ways the actual process of karaoke is quite meritocratic:
An activity in which all can participate, karaoke is perhaps more vitally one in which all participants can improve their performance. An important aspect of the solo performance is the implicit expectation that some degree or preparation and effort will be invested by the performer into polishing his or her act.
Whereas a good voice and/or talent is usually required for the amateur singing contests that karaoke most usually is in Western countries, in this form of it all participants are given opportunities to do their best regardless of their ability, and a lot of patience and encouragement along the way. And given that it’s a regular and predictable part of salaryman life, then they also have the chance beforehand to memorize, develop and ultimately master a repertoire of songs that can be relied upon for most karaoke sessions too.
In short, there’s a “way”, a correct and proper method of doing things and, not by coincidence, the Japanese word for that (do, pronounced like a short, sharp “dough”), is exactly the same as the Korean one, for both are based on the same Chinese character 道 meaning way, principle, or province. Hence you have judo, kendo and shodo(calligraphy) in Japanese, and dodeok (도덕)/morality, hyodo (효도)/filial duty, gisado (기사도)/knighthood or chivalry, and of course taekwondo in Korean. Bill Kelly himself links it to more austere and esoteric disciplines such as tea-drinking ceremonies, of mastering of which is also open to all regardless of class, status or gender. This implies:
…that there exists a way of performing the everyday and the mundane – preparing and drinking tea or singing karaoke – which reflects a “cult founded on the adoration of the beautiful among the sordid facts of everyday existence”.
However:
This is not to suggest that karaoke should be conceived as or categorized with more traditional arts, and most Japanese certainly would not equate the two, but rather to emphasize that the practice or use of karaoke in Japan, like [what has been written about] the practice of other recent or imported activities such as baseball and tennis. is colored by the same aesthetic and philosophical principles with are the essence of the traditional arts. (p. 82)
Accordingly, however frivolous it may appear to Western observers, karaoke is taken very seriously in Japan and Korea, and writing in 1998, Bill Kelly says that there was a whole industry of books, magazines, television programs and so forth to help people master it. Can older readers confirm that? How about Korea? In the latter’s case though, I think I would have noticed at least some of the paraphernalia of it by now, but haven’t at all: would that be because I came in 2000, just as Korea began its decade-long process of losing virtually all of its salarymen?, something Japan has also been doing, albeit more gradually?
Regardless however, I think that it’s not taken quite so seriously in both countries now, primarily because this previously dominant salaryman form of it has been superseded by technology and generational change.
( Source: Bruno Quinquet )
The Whitening of Karaoke’s Reputation
With a blog like mine, I’m always sensitive to the charge that I’m over-analyzing things, and many readers make think that the karaoke described in this post and the last is nothing at all like the fun times they had with friends and colleagues. Once again, I emphasize that I’m only describing “salaryman karaoke”, for want of a better term, and even when Kelly was writing in 1998, that being the dominant form of karaoke in Japan seemed well and truly over. Part of its decline has been structural like I said, but Kelly says that it its success overseas ironically may have helped too, as it:
…not only increased karaoke’s value as a commodity for export but, more significantly, as an acceptable envoy of things Japanese to the world. Although some in Japan might find the idea of karaoke as a national symbol or lone cultural export more a source of embarrassment rather than pride, its success overseas, along with the resulting economic ramifications, are likely to have contributed, at least in some sectors, to the enhancement of karaoke’s symbolic value at home.
And even more important was the development of the “karaoke box”, which drew karaoke out of the seedy world of drinking and prostitution with which it was first associated and criticized for in the early-1980s, and which, although well embedded in and accepted as part of male Japanese life, was “nevertheless perceived to exist on the margins of legality and morality”. But I’m not sure what Kelly means by “box” exactly…I’m thinking “booth”, like those in space-invader parlors? Either way, it:
…vastly increased karaoke’s accessibility by providing a low-cost, often alcohol-free, environment better suited to the young. Particularly popular among teenagers and young adults, but also with young couples and even families, the karaoke box has replaced the karaoke bar as the dominant form, thus liberating the activity from many of its early and somewhat unsavory associations….karaoke has come to be…deemed more suitable for inclusion under the rubric of “cultural activity” than was its predecessor. (p.83)
( Source: unknown )
I’m still not sure if “box” means “booth”, as in Korea at least the dominant form would be semi-private large rooms, taking up maybe one floor of a building which would be the song-room (노래방) establishment. I’m sure there’s plenty of seedy ones out there, but the vast majority aren’t, and they’re literally everywhere, not at all just in red light districts like previously. Maybe this is a development of the last ten years, as more money was to made from them as opposed to booths? Regardless, it means that karaoke is definitely not as homogeneous as it may at first appear, and it’s only where the relationships between participants are highly formalized and hierarchical, like between colleagues of a company, that anything like what’s been described in these two posts occurs. As Kelly concludes:
In such a situation, karaoke provides a forum for developing and nurturing the relationships upon which the effectiveness of the work unit…depends. As the karaoke bos caters to groups in which the relationships between members are characteristically less hierarchical and more casual – a group of school or university classmates for example – this too is reflected in the performance. (pp. 83-4)
Update: I’ve looked more closely, and Kelly does explain what a “karaoke box” is in a footnote:
First fashioned in Okayama prefecture by outfitting old cargo containers with a karaoke machine and some basic furnishings, the karaoke box (sometimes referred to as karaoke room or karaoke studio in urban areas) quickly spread throughout Japan, becoming the phenomenon’s most popular manifestation.
Karaoke as a Prism of Japanese (and Korean) Society
( Source: unknown )
In conclusion:
As a window into the range of relationships between individuals and between the individual and the context of their primary affiliation (be it the workplace, a social or athletic club, or a group of friends or neighbours), karaoke serves as a useful case study in understanding Japanese society, for it is in these relationships upon which so much in Japan depends. (p. 84)
And in Korea too, for, as anyone who’s ever lived here can attest, Koreans on the whole seem very averse to meeting casual strangers in public places (other than free sources of English foreigners that is), whereas they are quite happy to do so in the controlled environments of those groups mentioned above, to which in the Korean case at least churches should definitely be added. True, the same could be said of many individual Westerners too, but not as a group, and it would be difficult to find a place where even university students with the same major will willingly segregate themselves into almost completely closed, age-based groups within their departments. Knowing that, and now having read that above paragraph by Kelly too, I’ve suddenly realized why Korean students consider their freshman orientation week known as “MT” (Membership Training) to be as important as they do, for not only will they be spending all their (mandatory) class time with the exact same group of classmates for the next three or four years (it is notoriously difficult to change majors in Korea), for convenience’s sake most of their friends will be probably be from the same pool too, which in turn will come to be the network that they’ll rely on for the rest of their lives.
But this was about karaoke, and this is Bill Kelly’s own final word on it:
The “unique” character of the karaoke performance in Japan does not…suggest any kind of consensus of opinion or blanket homogeneity, but rather historical continuity with a performance “tradition” which is embedded within the realm of tsukiai. (pp. 84-5)
According to him, “Tsukiai” literally means “to keep company with”, as well as being a noun referring to “friendship” or “acquaintance”, but this term is also used to refer to:
…the obligatory after-hours drinking and socializing amongst colleagues which is deemed indispensable to the development and maintenance of good working relations. (p. 87)
All in all, Bill Kelly makes a pretty convincing case for karaoke’s popularity being because of its firm embedding in and continuation of a preexisting performance culture. If you’re not convinced, please refer back to the quote at the beginning of Part One, which I remind you is from 1968, ten years before karaoke was invented…and you certainly will be!
Kim Joon’s Body Art (possibly NSFW)
( “Tattooress”, 2006. Photo by Graveyard 9 wawa )
Sorry if tattooist Kim Joon’s art is a little too graphic to view at work. I’ll admit that when I began writing this post my natural instinct was to justify my choice of adult subject, but then I realised that 99% of readers would have no problems with it, and so a mini-lecture from me would have been unnecessary and probably have detracted from the art itself. And actually I did restrain myself from posting images of his more sexually-themed “Duet” series, an example being the first image in the post at startdrawing.org where I first heard of him. If you want to see more of particularly those, and my WordPress dashboard will soon tell me that most of you did(!), then you can see galleries of (mostly) those here and here, and there’s hundreds of pictures of all kinds of his work available at his own website.
( “Party-red Hole”, 2007. Photo directly from Kim Joon’s website )
Sexual or otherwise, most of his images of nudes are simply cool, although personally I don’t particularly care for those of his with male subjects. Not simply because I’m heterosexual – although I dare say that I will always prefer female to male nudes – but primarily because most of his male subjects seem to lack muscle definition, whereas all his female subjects seem to be, well, in their prime. If you see his work from 2005 then you’ll understand what I mean, and fortunately he does seem to have chosen more muscular male subjects in 2008.
( “We-adidas”, 2005. Photo by An Pu Ruo )
Unfortunately, despite the plethora of websites on his work a google search reveals, very few give any specific details about how he actually makes his images, and him being a tattooist too left me rather confused. Are they primarily tattoos or computer graphics? From what I can make out from the “text” section of his site, different images required different techniques, but most of them were substantially changed on a computer after the original photos were taken.
( “We-Starbucks”, 2005. Photo by ivanmarquez )
( Photo directly from Kim Joon’s website )
Looking at his profile, he does live in Korea and has exhibited here often, and so I’ll try to keep tabs on when his next exhibition is coming up, although if any readers hear before me I’d be very grateful if they could pass it on. Also, have any readers already seen his work in person? What did you think? Did seeing the photos at a large scale make you like the art any more or less?
(Update, November 2008: Here’s a follow-up post on later exhibitions of his work)
Why do the Japanese Like Karaoke so Much? (Part 1)
( “Sunset over Shinjuku” by Joi )
Introduction
When things seem sufficiently enlivened, the chief raps on the table for attention and suggests that singing begin. Everyone claps in agreement, and someone calls out Mr. Ono’s name. Clapping erupts again, and he stands, sings a brief folk song, and then sits down amidst much applause. The chief calls next on Kato, another of the younger men, who because he is a bit of a wiseacre, is regarded as the black sheep of the group. Kato makesan excuse, drinks a full glass in one swallow, makes more excuses, but fails to stand and sing as requested. An awkward silence follows. Everyone sympathises with Kato’s embarrassment, but he must sing like the rest, for the solo performance is an integral part of office parties…finally ready he hurries through a popular song and sits down amid thunderous applause, obviously relieved. Then everyone in the group takes his or her turn singing a solo. With much giggling and handholding two women pair off in a duet. One young man sings a song filled with taboo sex words disguised rather transparently as puns in the midst of an otherwise innocent story. Another offers a rendition of a soulful ballad. The deputy who told the funny story ties his necktie around his head in the homespun manner of folk dancers and proceeds to sing and dance an exaggerated rendition of an old folk song…Finally, the chief, in a polished and charming manner, sings a traditional song and then its modern counterpart. (p. 75)
Sounds like a typical night out singing karaoke with the boss and colleagues in Seoul or Tokyo in 2008, yes? Actually that passage was written in 1968, ten whole years before the first karaoke machine was even invented, and if that doesn’t convince you of “an historical basis for karaoke, as well as “a connection with an ethos perhaps characteristic of Japanese society”, then probably nothing will.
Probably my readers – generally a knowledgeable and Asia-savvy bunch – don’t actually need convincing, but then I’m quoting Bill Kelly in his chapter entitled “Japan’s Empty Orchestra: Echoes of Japanese culture in the performance of karaoke” in this 1998 book and, as he points out, actually neither of the above are most commonly presented as reasons for the phenomenal success of karaoke in Japan. In a moment I’ll get into those other reasons and then his critiques of them, but first, I argue that karaoke is actually much less Japanese than he thinks, although ultimately this doesn’t detract from his arguments.
How Japanese is Karaoke Really?
As Kelly acknowledges and I’ll get to, karaoke is now enjoyed in a very diverse number of ways and by many different age groups, but for now let’s focus on the kind alluded to in the opening passage, probably the most stereotypical and enduring image of it.
( “Shinjuku Kabuki-cho Crossing” by heiwa4126 )
Now, having work-related drinking practices that sound sooo much like the experience of karaoke, but which predate the invention of it by ten years, certainly make a pretty convincing argument that its roots and the reasons for its ultimate popularity need to be understood in its Japanese context. As too does the fact that it’s been the machine rather than the culture that has been exported, and indeed I don’t think readers need to be told that singing on the stage at your local pub isn’t quite the same.
So far, so good. But for someone whose PhD was on comparing karaoke culture in Japan and the UK, that he doesn’t mention that Korea has exactly the same karaoke culture is a glaring omission, and I wonder if it’s yet another case of Japan being so much in the limelight that its neighbor in the shadows gets overlooked? Regardless, I wouldn’t go so far as to call karaoke Korean because of that, as all too many Koreans are all too happy to do. But he does mention how karaoke first started in seedy drinking establishments in the Kansai region before becoming respectable, and if I had the opportunity to ask then I’m sure he’d agree that this means that this particular kind of karaoke is firmly anchored in salaryman working culture…but then Korea has always had more salarymen than Japan, despite the association of the word with the latter.
Ultimately, Japanese people’s and Koreans’ love affair with karaoke is much less tied to supposedly eternal, unchanging elements of the culture of either country, but more to specific workplace practices that are under threat in both countries (see this recent sexual harassment case, and what I’ve written here, here and here too). Because of this, although “salaryman karaoke” is still an integral part of life in this part of the world, I think we may well have already witnessed its heyday, and not before time too.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for karaoke for fun, just not the forced sort that my adult students used to sleepily rant to me about in our morning classes, but which they could never refuse for the sake of office politics. But having made my point, why is karaoke of any form so popular in both countries? This is the best and most interest part of Kelly’s chapter, and for the rest of his post I’ll go through his debunking of common theories. In Part Two coming later in the week, I’ll go over his own conclusions.
Karaoke Theories
( Source: unknown )
According to Kelly (p. 77), among those reasons most often cited for Karaoke’s huge success in Japan are that it:
-
satisfies a widespread love of singing;
-
satisfies a desire to emulate favorite singing stars and is this a means of fantasy fulfillment;
-
is an effective way to relieve stress;
-
serves as a forum in which individuals act strategically for their own political ends; and
-
is a medium for communication or, as one informant explained, a social lubricator among people who find conversation and the discussion of issues difficult
Obviously all of these have been cited to greater or lesser extents for almost all forms of karaoke in Japan, not just the salaryman sort. This is how he replies to each (pp. 77-78):
A love of singing may be cited as a possible reason…but does not elucidate its particular manifestations in Japanese society; nor does it account for the many who, despite an aversion to singing in front of others, nevertheless take their turn at the microphone.
Numbers two and three are both closest to the explanation I proffered myself years ago as a Korean newbie, which was that Koreans are ordinarily so restricted and confined in their daily lives that they needed an socially-acceptable outlet where they get let it all go. Again, not incorrect in some instances, but a completely inadequate explanation by itself.
( Source: unknown )
Kelly does acknowledge that star-emulation has been a strong motivation for young people’s interest, and in 1998 he was beginning to see a huge increase in the numbers of specialized karaoke rooms and booths in response, a trend that if anything has only accelerated since. But as for stress release:
Although karaoke mayserve as a panacea for stress release or as a forum for self-expression for many participants, those shy or embarrassed about singing karaoke may find it more a source of stress and anxiety. For those who enjoy singing [or performing], karaoke may serve as an arena for self-expression, but even in such instances it is a forum which is socially prescribed….for those less predisposed to perform publicly, the prospect…may provoke fear or even terror, but seldom an outright refusal to sing. [Most] opt for the momentary humiliation and embarrassment…rather than upset what has been termed the ‘superiority of togetherness.’
The office politics role of number four has also been confirmed:
A young businessman in Tokyo noted that when, what and how well one sings, how one responds to the singing of others and, perhaps more importantly, where one sings with respect to colleagues and seniors as individuals circulate to and from the karaoke stage, can serve to enhance one’s political effectiveness on such occasions.
Sure, but this might give the erroeous impression that karaoke rooms are modern dens of courtly intrigue. They’re not, and – to be clear – when I said that my adult students told me they were “forced” to spend late nights drinking at “song rooms” (노래방) for the sake of office politics, they meant more that they simply wouldn’t be thought of as a team player if they didn’t attend, not that they also had to get involved in anything like the above too. And Kelly dismisses the above explanation by saying that:
…such strategic maneuvering seems to be limited to those so inclined and is but one aspect, rather than a generalized, distinguishing feature, of karaoke.
And his rebuttal of the fifth reason is relevant to that too:
Finally, as a medium for communication, karaoke serves as a somewhat formalized forum, the rules of which are understood by all, for the mediation of interactions between participants….The result is highly predictable but, most importantly, a comfortable forum for social interaction in which recognition of and adherence to the implicit rules serves to preserve a non-threatening atmosphere. It is therefor a “safe” activity which poses little or no threat to the “harmony” of relationships between individuals or between individuals and the rest. In this sense, it conforms to the need of the occasion by providing a democratic forum in which each member is expected to do his or her part and, in so doing, to confirm his or her commitment to the collectivity.
Well, that’s more a (necessary) restatement of reason number five than a rebuttal per se. But here it comes:
( Source: unknown )
Karaoke detractors argue that karaoke effectively stifles communication by formalizing any interaction. The noise level, combined with the time spent choosing songs, singing and acknowledging the efforts of others relegates conversation to the periphery.
Ultimately, is salaryman karaoke any more noble, any more bonding, then the simple act of getting completely drunk together without music? I’d argue that it only appears so at some considerable distance from the dingy reality. Its ultimately very telling that so many employees would much rather be with their families or in bed, and have to be coerced into participating into what is supposedly one of the good points of Japanese and/or Korean culture. Like I said, karaoke for fun is indeed a good point, but the kind discussed here decidedly isn’t for the majority of its participants, and that begs the question of who and why has chosen this particular aspect of East Asian society to promote to the rest of the world.
But maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. I’ll discuss Bill Kelly’s own explanations for the popularity of karaoke when I’ve analysed them properly in part two at the end of the week!
Japanese Women Still Like Being Told What to do…
( “Ignite Your Beauty” by yangkuo)
Introduction
As requested (and no, that wasn’t really me), here is the second part of my examination of Keiko Tanaka’s chapter entitled ”Japanese Women’s Magazines: the language of aspiration” in the book The Worlds of Japanese Popular Culture: Gender, Shifting Boundaries and Global Cultures, edited by D.P. Martinez (1998).
I’ll take up pretty much where part one left off, again underlining examples Tanaka gives to distinguish them from her commentary, but before I do, let me second the photographer’s suggestion that the above photo is much better viewed large (just click on it). I’m not really interested in Misaki Ito (安斉 智子), but it really is a very aesthetically pleasing shot. I was especially thrilled to find this news article via the notes to the photo too, especially after I wrote this, but unfortunately it’s no longer available.
The Prescriptive Character of Contemporary Women’s Magazines (Continued)
( “Kawaii” by yangkuo)
I think that part one’s examples of the authoritative, teacher-like language used in Japanese women’s magazines speak for themselves, but in hindsight Tanaka’s next point about how unique they are is much more important than I first thought. This is because Japan is well known as an authoritarian, rank and status-conscious, patriarchal society….yada yada yada…and so it would be natural to attribute the examples to that, and to think that all Japanese magazines use similar styles of language too. But actually, and very significantly, it’s only women’s magazines that do so. Like Tanaka says:
In their attempt to nurture young women readers, these magazines use imperatives and other prescriptive expressions in a way which is unusual in Japanese society. Even in situations where imperatives are commonly used in English, Japanese equivalents are not:
Whip the cream until it just holds its shape, then fold into the cheese with the caster sugar.
One thinly slices two onions. One chops two rashers of bacon into pieces approximately 1 centimeter long.
Or, again, as in a bilingual computer manual, in which the instructions “Expand the phrase…Press Return” become:
One expands the phrase…One presses the return key (p. 122, emphasis added)
I can’t speak any Japanese at all, but I do know that what Tanaka says of the use of imperatives in Japanese, that they are usually confined to family, close friends or, indeed, teachers, is true of Korean, as is the contrast between this “authoritarian and intimate” language of women’s magazines and that normally used in advertisements too:
[Whereas] the use of imperatives is frequent in English advertisements, notably seen in verbs such as “buy”, “choose”, and “get”….Japanese equivalents are hardly ever in the imperative, though imperative expressions crop up here and there; however, they tend to be vague when it comes to what the audience is urged to do, as in:
Those who are walking, stop for a while.
Oh, come and play.
It is September. Please find something good. (pp. 122-123)
It’s still tempting not to read this much into the prescriptive language used; it’s hardly surprising that young Japanese women, after being treated like children for most of their lives (just like in Korea) would gravitate towards magazines that used the authoritative, reassuring language that they were used to. Hence, in a kind of demand and supply snowball effect:
Japanese women’s magazines…seem to have developed a style which their audience takes to, or at least accepts, just as [it has been argued] that the American tabloid press has. While the latter achieves this “largely through its departures from official (correct) language” and has “a tone of disrespect running through it”, Japanese women’s magazines manage it by appropriating the language of the classroom and a prescriptive tone. (p. 123)
Does This Mean That Japanese Women Are Merely Weak, Passive Consumers?
( “Photo Technic” by yangquo. Also best viewed large)
Tanaka admits that the common thread of all the examples she gives is the way in which the magazines seem to “stand in for authority figures vis-a-vis their readers.” They also, to judge from the language used:
…treat their readers as pupils who aspire to achieve standards defined by the editors. Considering the popularity of these magazines, there appears to be no shortage of pupils who have failed to outgrow their school days. (p. 127)
I’m not sure if that is intended to be sarcastic or not, but it’s certainly true that doing nothing but studying for their entire adolescence leaves suddenly ostensibly “adult” Koreans with little knowledge of how to meet the opposite sex and/or even how to dress, and with virtually the same education system then I can’t imagine that young Japanese adults would be any different. With still living at home thrown into the mix too, then “failing to outgrow their school days” is only natural behaviour, if immature by Western standards. But more serious is the charge that Tanaka is:
…going along with the tendency to treat women as the weak, passive, and subordinate party, as opposed to the powerful, manipulative, and dominant publishing industry.
In response, she quotes Dominic Strinati from page 217 of his book An Introduction to Theories of Popular Culture, who says:
…the view of women as passive consumers manipulated into desiring commodities and the luxuries of consumption by the culture industries has begun to be challenged by feminist theory and research. Within the context of the emergence of what has been termed “cultural populism”, it has been argued that this notion of the passive consumer undervalues the active role of they play, the way their appreciation and interpretation of cultural consumption may diverge from that intended by the culture industries, as well as the fact that consumption cannot simply be understood as a process of subordination.
( Photo by plynoi )
Strinati concludes that:
…consumption does not simply represent “the power of hegemonic forces in the definition of women’s role as consumer”, but rather “is the site of negotiated meanings, of resistance of appropriation as well as of subjection and exploitation”…(p. 218)
Strinati wrote that in 1995, and if anything, I imagine that the internet especially has made all consumers much savvier and more assertive since, which I give examples of here. Writing in 1998, Tanaka does say that it is important to keep in mind the strength the growing influence of young Japanese women as their disposable income rises, and with the benefit of ten years distance I can personally say that their spending habits did prove crucial to Japan’s ultimate economic recovery too. But ultimately Tanaka is still relatively dismissive of this:
While these caveats are all worthy of attention, it remains the case that these powerful consumers seem to be highly insecure in some respects. (p. 218)
And because of their lack of life-experience like I mentioned, then it is little wonder that young Japanese women:
…crave authority figures to instruct them as to how they should cope with this new unsettling new world of choice. Further research might concentrate both on the roots of this insecurity and on the multiple ways in which [magazine] writers attempt to maintain the loyalty of their target audience through the use of a tone of authority.
I too think that, so long as the practice of sending sleepy teenagers to study for long hours after school continues, then young Japanese and Korean women too will continue to prefer magazines like this. Like I said, it’s only natural that they would, and I want to re-emphasize that, lest I’ve ever inadvertently implied that I consider them stupid and/or immature for doing so. Moreover, as Michael Hurt says, not coincidentally the source of the photo underneath, there’s plenty of evidence that Korean women at least are beginning to reject the dictates of fashion magazines and be much more assertive and individualist in their fashion choices, and I wouldn’t be surprised to find the same of Japan too.
( Photo by feetmanseoul)
And the implications of this change? Hell, they make studying Korean society fascinating just by themselves!
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Japanese Women Like Being Told What to do…
(Photo by annick777)
Introduction
At least by the editors of women’s magazines anyway (with apologies to the S&M crowd). Sure, your first impression may well be that in that sense then almost all women like “being told what to do,” but then the consensus of those that have actually studied the damn things (magazines I mean) is that in this part of the world they’re unique in the prescriptive tone of language that they use, much more akin to that of teachers in schools and after-school institutes than anything else. And when I say “unique”, I mean that very few other kinds of written media are so patronizing towards readers, even in a region where a constant acknowledgement of someone’s higher rank and status is fundamental to the languages.
I’ve already discussed possible reasons for this in these posts; today’s is just a quick a presentation of evidence for and confirmation of those from Keiko Tanaka’s chapter entitled ”Japanese Women’s Magazines: the language of aspiration” in the book The Worlds of Japanese Popular Culture: Gender, Shifting Boundaries and Global Cultures, edited by D.P. Martinez (1998). The book itself has been sitting unopened in my bookcase for years, bought back when I was doing my MA and could convince my wife that I was required to buy up to a dozen books for it every few months (occupational hazard of being married to a geek), and there it would have remained had my research for a Korea Studies conference not forced me into a desperate search for any sources on East Asian popular culture that I could find.
(Source)
Readers may be surprised that I took so long to read it, especially as Japanese popular culture is usually the first thing that East Asia geeks like myself begin studying in any real depth. For those few of you that aren’t yet East Asia geeks yourself, the reason for that is because of being corrupted by Japanese history lecturers, who have a strange tendency in otherwise normal lectures to suddenly whip out, say, The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife onto the overhead projector and then proceed to talk at great length and detail about tentacle sex manga, all the while in the same nonchalant manner and style of voice that he or she was talking about Edo Period economic policy five minutes earlier. Once one’s interest is aroused, as tends to happen after going through that surreal experience, then there’s more than enough interesting books on oddities like it to keep one occupied for a lifetime…and I don’t have the money.
Having said that, there’s a lot of crap out there too, and much of it, like tentacle sex manga, up there with ASEAN and postmodernism in being created for the sole purpose of providing jobs and publishing opportunities for academics. Oh yes, and for shocking students with too. Although saying things like “period pain” to mixed groups of 19 year-olds is about as risqué as I could get at my last job myself, I have to say that watching pompous freshmen squirm in embarrassment at it has been one of the highlights of my ESL career.
(Source)
No tentacle sex in this otherwise excellent book though, maybe because most of it was researched before the internet really took off. And while the usual caveats about extending Tanaka’s conclusions apply, I’d be very surprised if they weren’t just as relevant today as in 1998, or to women’s magazines of most other East Asian countries too. Of Korean women’s magazines in particular, while I don’t go so far as to religiously read them myself (no, really), I do have sufficient Korean ability and experience with different media here to bet money on them applying to those for instance.
The Prescriptive Character of Contemporary Women’s Magazines
(Photo by Wallami)
I’ll let Tanaka herself do most of the talking from now on. Starting off after her short potted history of the industry then:
The prescriptiveness of the language employed in women’s magazines is a striking characteristic. The tone of the many of the features is blunt and hectoring, a curious point, given the alleged Japanese concern with politeness and the avoidance of confrontation. Even when not directly ordering readers about, the magazines draw lessons for young women from a surprising variety of events.
By arguing that there is a characteristic common to [these] magazines, I do not intend to suggest homogeneity amongst [them] or their readership….I hope that by examining a feature shared by these magazines, some general strategies in production of this particular form of popular culture will emerge.
The core of my argument is that these magazines not only provide detail, but also tell their readers what to do and what not to do. The manner in which this is done could be seen as almost patronizing and condescending. Compared to Japanese features, English equivalents may be similarly detailed but do not have the same prescriptive tone. (p. 117)
And with that she provides the first of ultimately over 100 examples from magazines, which to be polite, are a bit of a drag typing out here. I will do some, which I’ve underlined to make easier to pick out, but I think I can be forgiven for only providing the bare minimum to make my point, and especially for dispensing with mention of the sources and a romanization of the original Japanese!
( “Her Bikini’s Still Ugly” by 27)
The examples she starts with are used to contrast the overall prescriptive tone of Japanese women’s magazines with the overall more suggestive tone of English ones, but then she demonstrates with more that prescription is hardly unique to the former, which also sometimes use suggestions too. But:
This said, audiences are more often told what to look out for:
Céline motifs…it is effective to show them off by using a number of them concentrated around the region of your hands.
The loafers which have been popular all this time cannot be overlooked either.” (p. 118-119)
Japanese magazines know what is right for their audiences and tell them so in no uncertain terms:
This is about the best length for the jacket.
It is desireable to have all four basic items.
These magazines even make up their readers’ minds for them:
You no longer want anything less than “cheap and good” clothes.
We have decided to have your hair done in a bob next time. (p. 119)
And then she says that while statements of this type translate rather well into English, in Japanese they may well be regarded as patronizing, something which I’ve found can just as readily be lost in the translation of Korean to English too. But the success of these magazines suggests that readers do not mind the language, and in fact her informants have told her:
…that the tone has never caused them any annoyance or irritation. They all mention as a reason for buying the magazines that they can expect practical and detailed information on fashion and other related matters.
This raises the question as to where such language might come from, and my suggestion, from the resonance of the language, is that it comes from the authoritarian tone used by Japanese teachers in school.
(Photo by alexanderbot)
She then gives examples of expressions used which rely on familiar phrases from the classroom, then those that demonstrate how:
The magazines are keen on grading and they sometimes flatter their audience for following what they say with a kind of ranking:
Please enjoy this fashion, which is superior by one rank.
Those who in the senior grade should give it a finishing touch with a purple scarf. (p. 120)
In some magazines, expressions “reminiscent of school tests are rife:
You get a circle [for a correct answer] for wearing a long-knitted jacket or a waistcoat on top.
This suit is only just a borderline pass mark.
The last two expressions were from magazines that cater for young twenty-somethings and even high-school students, and so that language would obviously be more familiar and acceptable to them than older women. As a whole, the language of those magazines specifically targeted at that age group:
…tends to be fairly colloquial, closer to spoken language than is usually the case in a written textbook, but similar to the language of cram school textbooks, which are meant to reproduce live lectures; many of these prescriptive expressions…are strikingly similar to those used in [cram school] textbooks….and a high proportion of the readership of the magazines would have attended such institutions. (p. 121, emphasis mine)
( Photo by superlocal)
Sound like somewhere you know?
On the surface it may not seem all that surprising or profound to hear that these magazines for 18-25 year-old Japanese women talk to them like schoolchildren, and that most of the readers don’t mind…hell, some of them are schoolchildren. But think about it: what Western 18 year-old doesn’t think that he or she is more knowledgeable than the adults and authority figures that previously had to be deferred to, and revelling in new-found freedoms and independence? A magazine that treated them as the language used here seems to, as “pupils who aspire to achieve standards defined by the editors” (p.127), would go under before the ink on the pages was dry.
Ultimately, the language of Japanese magazines, which doesn’t translate well, is masking profound and deep differences between cultures. In particular, Tanaka writes of the particularly prescriptive 25 ans magazine:
…this tendency…may be related to its main objective, which is expressed as “For nurturing discerning eyes and individuality”. I have argued elsewhere that in Japan individuality (kosei) is more about being fashionable and sophisticated than about actually “doing one’s own thing”. (pp. 121-122, emphasis mine)
And there you have it: evidence from Japanese women’s magazines demonstrates that what Taeyeon Kim and Minjeong Kim and Shannon Lennon have said of the real meaning of “individuality” in Korea is completely paralleled in Japan. This is what one would expect if the former’s arguments about Neo-Confucian notions of women as “subjectless bodies” applied not just to Korea but all of East Asia, not coincidentally the gist of the abstract I’m writing. It’s also yet another case of some aspect of East Asian life that superficially appears identical to its Western counterparts, especially to outsiders and expats, but which in reality even the briefest of investigations proves to be quite different.
( “Seoul City Hall” by jstifani)
And that’s the point I wanted to make. There is a great deal more to Tanaka’s article, mostly her reaction to various counterarguments to the above, and especially to the charge that she is portraying young Japanese women as too passive, naive and unthinking, but for the sake of reader’s eyesight I think I should stop there! But the rest is just as interesting, and I’d be quite happy to devote a second post to it if any readers want.
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