Nerdly Connections
Michael Lee
Hyouka | Kyoto Animation
Nerds Seeking Nerds
Sending VHS copies of the latest Gundam series through the mail, or traveling across town to share copies of fanmade works scored at Comic Market, nerds in 80s Japan had to put in work to find others who were like them. College clubs were often the first point of entry into fandom, focusing on either science fiction media works or manga. These college clubs would meet with one another, referring to one another as "otaku " playing off the word's actual meaning of "your home" or "your family" to create a sense of the familial among members—that when you're in, you're family. But aside from these clubs, and major fan events like Comic Market, the opportunities to reach out to like-minded people were limited. There was no way to know who among the general population might also have nerdish leanings. Which is why the digital era of communication has seen such a blossoming of nerdly connections, the tendrils of fandom reaching to all corners of the globe.
Social media and online platforms increase the visibility of fans, and offer spaces to connect. No group has seized the tools of connectivity that platforms provide like the doujinshi community in Japan—a group who make fanmade comics and share them not only online, but at fan-focused events around the country. The way in which fans use social media and digital spaces to foster a sense of community differs in Japan's doujinshi community from that of the kinds of fandom most prevalent in North America—where most fan studies centers its research.
The Place to Be
In the English-speaking fan world, the online landscape has provided a number of places for fans to meet each other, which is certainly a net positive. Whether the focus is fan fiction, fan art, or a general interest in a hobby, there will be a website or forum to dive into. The way digital spaces are used in this particular context, however, is that the online platform is the place. Almost all of the fan interaction remains online, with the URL given its identity thanks to a shared collective imagining of what that space should be. If this sounds familiar, it is, because fan studies often invokes Benedict Anderson's Imagined Communities when discussing how fan communities come to be formed.
Anderson was talking about the origins of Nationalism, but his theory tends to graft onto fan studies quite easily, so his words are often used to cobble together an understanding of fandom. This isn't without merit, but it does tend to be a bit reductive.
"It is imagined because the members of even the smallest [fandom] will never know most of their fellow-members, meet them, or even hear of them, yet in the minds of each lives the image of their communion."
Is a statement most in a particular fandom would agree is true. Hiding behind usernames or anonymity, members of a fan community may never know who their fellow members are, yet instantly feel kinship due to their shared affect for a certain media franchise or hobby.
"it is imagined as a community, because, regardless of the actual inequality and exploitation that may prevail in each, the [fandom] is always conceived as a deep, horizontal comradeship"
Would also stand as a quote that fans and fan studies researchers would generally agree with. However, the previous—slightly modified—quote from Anderson should be examined with more scrutiny when considering fandom, and particularly the differences between fandom in the English-speaking fan world and the doujinshi community in Japan. That "deep, horizontal comradeship" is really the lime after a tequila shot, meant to mute the harsh taste of "the actual inequality and exploitation" that came before it. When the place where fandom lives is limited to a website or forum, essentially you are taking a small piece of the digital world and drawing a border around it as the location for this fandom to exist. Within those borders the fandom nation-state proceeds to establish rules and perhaps even form a government. Codes of conduct in these online spaces, while often simply guidelines to be respectful, create structures of power and may limit certain voices. Moderators step in to admonish those who don't follow the rules, and can even go so far as to revoke a fan's citizenship in the fandom by banning them from the site. It is odd that given the limitless potential of how interaction between fans could occur, in many cases in the English-speaking fan world, what has happened has been to extend nationalism into the digital sphere. This doesn't mean that fan interaction is negative, as a great deal of creative, collaborative work is produced on English-language fan sites, but by making the online space the place to interact, it becomes weighed down by that placeness and the dynamics of power that come with that.
Like, Follow, Subscribe
The idea that the digital space becomes the place stands in contrast to the way the doujinshi community makes use of the digital landscape, and it is that word, "use," that constitutes a big difference in how this community interacts online. Much more in line with Barry Wellman's notion of "networked individualism," the doujinshi community use social media platforms and digital spaces to cultivate networks, not live in these places as their only locus for fan engagement. Artists who participate in doujinshi-focused events, such as the famous Comic Market, use the art-sharing site Pixiv to post samples of the work that will be available for sale at Comic Market and similar events. However, there isn't a strong sense of community on the site, despite it featuring a "follow" button, as even very well-known artists have few followers. This is in contrast to Twitter, where doujinshi artists can have tens and even hundreds of thousands of followers. When looking at follower count compared to who an artist follows, the ratio skews dramatically towards followers rather than following. Artists may only follow a few of their fellow artists, yet have throngs of fans that follow them, which mimics the follower/following patterns of celebrities or corporations.
This makes for more instances of unidirectional interaction, of an artist sending a message out to fans. It doesn't have the same "imagined community" feel of a website forum, but that's not to say that community building isn't happening. Cultural Anthropologist Mizuko Ito has said that "social media can be used in individualistic and narcissistic ways, but I question whether the tools themselves determine the value set." And to this point, she is right, we can make a case that despite the somewhat one-way conversation that occurs on social media in doujinshi fan circles, the intent is to use social media to express feelings of love or excitement for the media object the fandom fawns over, and to encourage followers to find them at events held in physical spaces. Often, when attending a fan event, artists will change their Twitter display name to include their location at the event. "A-1" or something similar to indicate a particular event hall, table, or space will be prominently displayed. Some artists go as far as to draw maps and post them to Twitter so fans and other artists can find them.
I.R.L.
Instead of living in online spaces, Doujinshi artists and fans use the online world to organize the fan community around events catering to their fandom, and it is at those events that the communal, participatory element of the doujinshi scene reveals itself. Fans mill about, and artists engage with them, all in attendance being considered a 参加者 (sankasha) which translates to participant. The idea that anyone attending the event, regardless of what they contribute as a fan, is given the same label in an attempt to do away with much of the power imbalance that may cause tension. If artists have a free moment, they often seek out other artists they themselves are fans of. Gifts are exchanged, and people catch up. Without a place online where this kind of interaction happens, it makes events like Comic Market important for the community as it might be the only chance to speak with other fans in the same location.
It harkens back to the founding days of otaku culture from the late 70s and early 80s, where technology was used to make connections, but the fan interaction would take place in person. The tools may have changed, but the fan spirit remains the same.
Michael Lee is the Editor of KOSATEN, and is currently pursuing research on Japanese fandom, with a particular focus on doujinshi and other fan-created media.
