We’re now nearing the end of an annual L.A. event called
the Anime Expo. It’s a huge celebration of Japanese pop culture that unfurls in
Downtown L.A.’s convention center for four days, ending on the Fourth of July.
Because what could be more American than a festival featuring cartoons,
videogaming, karaoke, and a chance to dress up as your favorite comicbook
superhero? Angelenos, whose enthusiasm has made this the largest anime
convention in North America, love the opportunity to show off strange outfits
and revel in outlandish kitsch.
Come to think of it, this passion for comic book culture is
not solely American. When I recently got off the train in the Netherlands’
sedate capital, The Hague, I was prepared for sleek modern buildings, quaint town squares, a royal
palace, and tony embassies. The Hague is the home of the great Mauritshuis
Museum (home of Vermeer’s “Girl with Pearl Earring”) as well as the World
Court, so I anticipated a certain amount of gravitas. What I didn’t expect was
a hotel lobby full of zombies, seven-foot warriors wearing costumes made of cardboard,
and French maids with pink hair. It was, I learned, a gathering of mostly Dutch
anime enthusiasts (some of them pretty long in the tooth), who gather each year
for a cosplay weekend at some large convention hall. There were screenings,
merchandise sales, and special appearances to entice them, but they spend most
of their days hanging out and snapping selfies with their new friends. Some of
them looked scary, but it was soon crystal-clear they were a harmless bunch.
Mostly, perhaps, they came off as children who’d never quite grown up.
What is there about the urge for fantasy that makes the
Dutch (normally considered a sensible group) dismount from their bicycles and
indulge in fancy-dress? Some of those costumes can’t be cheap, and there’s also
the cost of travel and lodgings to consider. My time in various Dutch cities
also reminded me of the new passion for tattooing. As popular in Amsterdam as
it is in L.A (or maybe even more so), tattooing seems to be one more way of seeking
personal uniqueness by way of outrageous—even sometimes deliberately
obnoxious--display.
Perhaps there’s something about modern life that is short on
color and glamour. In many ways, despite some grim things in the news, we’re
statistically safer now than in previous eras (I can’t imagine the Dutch
rushing to single themselves out during the dark days of World War II). And so
we crave fantasy that gives us a heightened sense of the drama of our own
lives. That’s partly why we cling to the magical world of Harry Potter, as well
as to the candy-colored manga at which Japanese animators excel.
I just finished spending the morning before the 4th
of July exploring a fantasy escape-room along with members of my family. I’m
not sure how long this escape-room fad has been around, but it’s fascinating to
learn that it began in Russia, where escaping the dismal present is a long
tradition. I hear that some of these elaborately-themed escape-rooms suggest a
world that is somber and even bloody. Happily, my group entered the Wizards
Workshop, which puts a definitely PG spin on the genre. To leave, we had to
solve eccentric puzzles galore, but there weren’t a lot of grim surprises. But goodness!
the world looked bright once we were finally back outside of the wizard’s lair.
We’d had the fun of feeling ourselves inside
a movie, just like Harry Potter and his crew. Next time I’m wearing a cape.
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