Enchanted Subcultures I Am Not Making This Up

Otakukin

Hilda: A Self-Identified Otakukin

"Hilda" (not her real name) is twenty years old. Unlike Amanda, she provides little information about her life or her hobbies. She says that her background is "middle class," and that, as a child, she was outwardly normal, though "bookish," by her own admission. From a young age, however, Hilda claims to have been haunted by a feeling of her own foreignness, and a sense that her real home was somewhere else. "I used to demand to be allowed to "go home" even if I was in my own room," she says. At age fourteen, she began watching dubbed episodes of the anime series, Digimon Adventure 02, on the popular Fox Kids Saturday morning cartoon block. Hilda found herself drawn to the character of Ken Ichijouji, and describes having "powerful, visceral emotional reactions out of proportion for just watching a TV show."

She reports having strange, very vivid dreams in which she seemed to relive the plot of Digimon from Ichijouji's perspective, and even claims that these dreams made her oddly aware of crucial plot points prior to certain episodes reaching the United States. Still, at other times, Hilda was unable to shake the feeling that something was missing from the show. To Hilda, parts of the story had been left out; parts which she became aware of in her dreams.

Everything about the world of Digimon seemed achingly familiar to her. Ultimately, she says, she came to one conclusion: that she, Hilda, was Ken Ichijouji, and that everything that had happened to him in Digimon Adventure 02 (and then some) had happened to her. Hilda has concluded that, even though she is now a young adult in 21^st century America, she once lived in the universe of Digimon, only to be reincarnated here.

"After a lot of soul searching, and lot of help from my friends, I accepted who I was, and gained a measure of peace with my identity... ...I am Ken Ichijouji, then and now," she says. Hilda does not simply identify with Ichijouji; she believes that he was once real, and that she, Hilda, was him. She now runs a small website known as From Fiction where she details her life as an "otakukin" and converses with other like-minded individuals.

"Otakukin" is a colloquial term coined from the Japanese word "otaku" (commonly used in America to refer to fans of Japanese popular culture) to describe individuals who experience this sort of extreme identification with anime and manga-style characters. Janet Houck, a columnist for Mania TV, bluntly describes otakukin as "people (who) believe that they are anime-related, fictional characters."

In a brief opinion piece on the subject, Houck notes common tropes within the small but growing otakukin community, such as the widespread belief in multiple universes and reincarnation. "Reincarnation," she explains, "works into the equation by saying that anime plots are based on events that happened thousands of years ago or merely occurred on an alternative plane of existence, and these souls...reincarnate in humans."

In a long, rambling essay on a website called Temple of the Ota’kin, an unidentified, self-proclaimed otakukin discusses his/her belief system and its relationship to Japanese popular culture. He/She suggests that fiction in “the East” often draws more “accurately” from established mythology and folklore, and suggests that this lends veracity to the argument that characters from Japanese anime and manga may have existed in some form and at some point in history

He/She suggests that anime and manga are spiritually compelling, and form a body of modern mythology, resembling earlier pantheons. This relates to the Jungian theory of the collective unconscious; a reservoir of archetypal experiences and personas, often seen in mythology and accessible to each individual. In Jungian terms, otakukin could be viewed as individuals who believe that they (or attempt to) embody an archetypal persona portrayed in fiction. ((Jung, C.G. 1954. Development of Personality. Princeton: Princeton University Press.))

Hilda's own site takes a different tactic; rather than suggesting that these characters may have once walked the earth, he argues in favor of multiple realities. In a journal entry on the popular art site, DeviantArt, he says "I believe that there are an infinite (sic) number of alternate worlds/realities wherein everything happens. Every possibility is explored." This idea resembles the "pantheistic solipsism" described by science fiction author Robert A. Heinlein in his novel The Number of the Beast, wherein he asserts that particularly creative authors may be creating (or alternatively, discovering) alternate universes in which their fiction takes place. ((Heinlein, Robert. The Number of the Beast. 2007. Boston: Science Fiction Book Club.))

Regardless of how they justify their belief system, the otakukin identification with characters from Japanese popular culture is not to be taken lightly. As was the case with Amanda and other soulbonders, many see their identity as a double-edged sword, from which they derive both pleasure and pain. Though Hilda expresses the peace and self-certainty that came with accepting his otakukin identity, he also hints at emotional turmoil. "I am plagued by nightmares of sins this lifetime never saw, and by dreams of friends I'll never see again. Its no picnic being like this, okay?" On the Livejournal community ~From_Fiction, members recount the pain of remembering the life they once lead as a fictional character. There is even a support group on Livejournal specifically for otakukin to share painful memories of their past lives, which, as one would expect from fictional characters, were often tumultuous and violent.

As was the case with soulbonding, otakukin overwhelmingly communicate the gravity of their beliefs and self-image. Though Hilda advises other otakukin to avoid talking about their identity on a daily basis, there is a clear desire among otakukin to be taken seriously and accepted. In a short essay entitled "Are Otakukin Crazy?" Hilda takes great pains in presenting otakukin as functional rather than pathological, and argues that otakukin are no more delusional than followers of other religious/spiritual beliefs.

Like soulbonders, otakukin meet with much criticism online. In a short essay entitled "Lifestyles of the Magical and Animated," the owner of SixSixFive.com expresses an very common view of the subculture, referring to otakukin as "a concept so monumentally f****d-up that it could only have sprung from the mind of Livejournal users who really, really like Japanese cartoons and don't get out a whole hell of a lot."

As was the case with soulbonders, the size of the subculture makes it difficult to dismiss, and certain aspects of 21^st century life lend themselves to an understanding of otakukin beliefs. Digital interaction increasingly makes embodiment superfluous, and we now easily communicate without ever revealing our physical appearance. In such an era, why should embodiment have anything to do with identity? As Schwartz ((Schwartz, John. 2002 “Who Says Surfers Are Antisocial?” The New York Times. October 26)) noted, technology provides us with the opportunity to construct our identity in any way we please. Older people can construct youthful personas, and vice versa. One can present oneself as male, female, or even, declining to specify a gender, androgynous. Most would agree that believing oneself to be an anime character differs greatly from simply pretending to be someone else online, but this difference is a matter of degree rather than kind. A fabricated online persona can often affect others just as deeply as a physical person, regardless of its fictitious nature.

Similarly, as evidenced in otakukin forums and websites, the adopted identity of a fictional character provides an individual with a stable identity that directs and facilitates interaction. As was the case with soulbonders, the veracity of otakukin beliefs becomes superfluous if one examines the role played by these beliefs. The otakukin identity provides its adherents with community (with other otakukin,) and, more importantly, a seemingly comforting sense of self and one's place within the world. Whether or not parallel universes filled with anime characters are real, these effects are undeniable.