Collaboration with University of Tokyo newspaper: The world of manga expands to the classroom

Founded in 1920 as the Imperial University Newspaper, the Todai Shimbun (University of Tokyo Newspaper, 東京大学新聞) now marks its 106th year as the newspaper of Japan’s leading university. We report on campus news, sports, culture, and academic affairs, while covering the university community with independence and informing students, faculty, and the wider public. Collaboration with overseas universities and the launch of our English-language publication reflects our continued commitment to accessibility and engagement with a broader global readership.

The Student Life and the Todai Shimbun are excited to connect student journalism in Tokyo and Claremont, California. Through collaboration across time zones and over language barriers, our cross-publication project aims to increase global understanding of different cultures and their distinct writing styles. We are happy to expose readers in California to the lives and perspectives of university students in Tokyo, and vice versa, building the foundation for future international connections!

 

A Student Life Immersed in Film – A Turning Point Through a Mentor

 

As autumn invites us to read, what books will you pick up? At the University of Tokyo, there is a class about the critical analysis of manga, taught by Associate Professor Kentaro Miwa, a specialist in Culture and Representation at the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences. Since 2024, he has been teaching a seminar on fundamental academic writing for first-year students. The Todai Shimbun sat down with Prof Miwa to learn more about how UTokyo students read manga. (Interview and Photos by Naoki Yoshida, Translation by Kamil Zeribi)

 

──Could you briefly tell us about your background?

After entering UTokyo, I entered the Faculty of Letters’ department of philosophy, which I had been interested in since high school. Compared to my current specialization, it’s quite a different field. At the time, I didn’t have much intention of becoming a researcher. Rather, I was most passionate about going to the cinema. I spent more time on film than anything else. Because I was young, even though I believed I should focus on studying philosophy, I was actually drawn more and more toward exploring lots of different cultural and artistic works. 

As graduation drew closer, my desire to do research became stronger, and I gradually began looking for graduate schools where I could study film. During that time, I heard that the manga critic Fusanosuke Natsume, who is Soseki Natsume’s grandson, took a position at Gakushuin University. I remember loving his books throughout elementary and middle school and being fascinated by his lighthearted yet profound way of discussing manga. It made me realise that manga could be studied seriously at university, opening a whole new perspective for me. 

I then entered the graduate program at Gakushuin University, researching manga under Professor Natsume. While his classes were educational, he would also invite students to weekly dinners, where he would share the atmosphere of a bygone era that I think is difficult to put into writing. Even now, more than 15 years later, we remain in touch. I returned to UTokyo two years later as a faculty member in the Culture and Representation Course, and now also teach first-year seminars.

  

──What manga did you read as a child?

Reading Osamu Tezuka’s “Phoenix” and “Buddha” in my elementary school library had a big impact on me. Although, since many of the elementary school kids handled the books roughly, some volumes were missing or damaged, so I couldn’t read the entire series (laughs). Outside of school, I bought the monthly CoroCoro Comic with my allowance, though I felt that it was more of a hobby magazine than manga. I was also obsessed with Mini 4WD cars and Pokémon, which were popular at the time. As for Dragon Ball, it’s a manga from a slightly older generation than me. I was still in early elementary school when its publication was discontinued, so I didn’t read it in real time. When I got to middle school, I started buying the Weekly Shonen Jump. I also came to love older pieces from the school library like “Ashita no Joe” and “The Legend of Kamui” by Sanpei Shirato. Shirato, in particular, is an important figure from the “劇画 or graphic novel” era in manga history.

  

—What is a memorable story from your university days?

In the 1990s, mini-theaters flourished, so-called “Shibuya-type” music got fashionable, and record shops became popular – youth culture was vibrant. Komaba Campus is close to Shimokitazawa and Shibuya, so you could feel that atmosphere, but by the time I enrolled in the mid-2000s, it was more like a lingering afterglow. Rather, what replaced that subculture was the rise of what is often called “otaku culture”, which became the mainstream. I belonged to a band that played Western classic rock like the Beatles, but at the time late-night anime theme songs like “K-On!” and “The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya” were huge hits. I remember younger members (Kouhai) performing songs like “God knows…”

  

 —As a researcher, you’ve written papers on Kazuo Umezu and Daijiro Morohoshi.

Manga is often said to consist of three basic elements: images, words, and panels. While Umezu and Morohoshi are known for their unique artwork, I find their use of words equally unique. Studying their work led me to deeply investigate the relationship between images and words. Umezu is also known for his distinctive use of panels. Manga is built on the continuity of the panels, and examining this seemingly self-evident point provides critical insights, making for an intriguing research subject.

  

 —Many researchers compare manga and film, don’t they?

Manga and film share similarities. Both represent scenes visually, and construct narratives through sequences. They are closely related as forms of visual culture, which is exactly why adaptations between the two are common. 

However, naturally, there are differences. For example, film frames are fixed in aspect ratio while manga allows artists to freely divide pages into panels of various shapes and sizes. Another difference is that the pace is controlled by the reader in manga – some people read quickly while others read slowly. For film, there is a set speed decided by the filmmakers. Considering this, while manga and film are similar, there are differences in their characteristics of expression.

However, I would like to go a step further and believe that, at a higher level, these differences between manga and film often serve the same fundamental purpose. For example, in manga, a crowd scene might be depicted in a large impactful panel, while a casual close-up uses a smaller one. When expressing this in film, crowd scenes are given considerable time, while casual scenes may simply be quick shots. In such cases, although there are differences in frame structure in manga and the length of time in film, there are merely differences in techniques that have developed differently to effectively communicate information. It is possible to say that the information that the creators want to convey to the audience is essentially the same.

 

The World of Manga Expands in the Classroom: Valuing Free Thought

 

 —Since last year, you taught a first-year humanities seminar course.

I’ve been in charge of just under 50 first-year students over this year and last year. In my seminar, students are asked to choose one manga work of their liking and write a short essay about it. The works chosen by the students are diverse, ranging from classic works by Osamu Tezuka and Fujiko F Fujio to 1980s titles like “Akira” and “Dragon Ball”. There are also more recent works, for example 1990s titles like “Slam Dunk” and “20th Century Boys,” to modern day manga like “Attack on Titan” and “Demon Slayer.” There’s a wide range from old to new, and there are both “shonen (roughly boys 10 to 16 years of age)” and “seinen (roughly young men over 16 years of age)” manga, so it’s hard to pinpoint a specific trend. It’s fascinating to see such a wide range of works chosen by the students, and I look forward to it every year.

 

 —Who is a student who has left an impression on you?

One student wrote an essay on Junji Ito’s “No Longer Human”, which is an adaptation of Osamu Dazai’s “No Longer Human”. The student’s analysis, which compared it to the original novel, was fascinating, and it made me reread the original for the first time since high school. When analysing a work that has an original source, discussing how it has been adapted by comparing it is a solid and effective research method. Ito is known as a horror manga artist, and he made several changes in his comic adaptation, including the addition of horror elements. What impressed me about this student was that they not only compared it to the original, but they also analysed the visual representation of horror in manga. 

Another student wrote an essay about the mystery manga “The Kindaichi Case Files”. This is a hit series from the 1990s in which the main character, Kindaichi, solves numerous cases. This student’s essay was also good because it compared and examined the use of trick expressions, or techniques of narrative deception, in mystery novels and manga. As with the previously mentioned student, it is effective to analyse a work by comparing and contrasting it to something else. Comparison is an approach that should always be kept in mind. Of course, it goes without saying that a haphazard comparison will also result in a rough argument. I felt that both students set clear themes, such as “written horror and visual horror”, as well as “written tricks and visual tricks”. 

However, I always tell my students to not write generalities, but rather to write about the work itself. They shouldn’t end with things like “This is how it tends to be written in mystery novels, and this is how it tends to be in manga.” In that regard, this student tried to write an analysis of the work itself. “The Kindaichi Case Files” is a 27-volume series, and the student extracted all the tricks within it, in chronological order, and compiled them into tables and graphs. Furthermore, they considered how each trick is visually represented, even mentioning the changes in quality and quantity from early to the later stages of the series.

Applying ideas from various fields in an interdisciplinary way is also effective. For example, one student analysed the fantasy-adventure work “Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End” through a psychological lens. Simply applying knowledge from other fields to a manga often doesn’t make for a good essay, but this student skilfully analysed the characters’ words and actions using psychological concepts, successfully deepening their understanding of the work itself. I was also impressed by their close examination of “enemies” in this manga. In recent years, many hit entertainment works have featured stories of defeating an absolute enemy, but this essay raised ethical questions about what kind of enemy justifies such actions. Another student wrote an essay on “Attack on Titan”, which similarly prompted reflection on the ethical question of “What is an enemy?”

Another student chose “Land of the Lustrous” and successfully deepened their own understanding while engaging with previous research. “Land of the Lustrous” is a science fiction manga depicting battles between humanoid creatures with bodies made of gemstones. The student focused on these characters made of inorganic matter, writing an essay using the character theory of critic Eiji Otsuka as prior research. Otsuka points out that the characters in the pre-World War II manga and anime were symbolic and had indestructible bodies, but then post-World War II, Osamu Tezuka began to depict irreversible injuries and death. Even today, in gag manga, characters are symbolic, and even if their bodies are burnt in an explosion, they are back to normal in the next panel. On the other hand, in serious manga, bodily damage is often irreversible. I was impressed that the student directly addressed this issue before discussing “Land of the Lustrous.” Another important point was that the student clearly presented their own new ideas within the essay. They deepened their understanding through two specific characteristics in this manga: the physicality of the human form and the symbolism inherent in inorganic matter. This was a good essay, connecting previous research to contemporary works and further developing their ideas.

 

—What manga do you recommend to university students?

Besides the first-year humanities seminar, I also teach classes that deal with manga. Among UTokyo students interested in manga, the works of Haruko Ichikawa, author of “Land of the Lustrous”, are particularly popular. Similar to Ichikawa’s style, there is the author, Fumiko Takano. While Takano has published less than 10 volumes of manga so far, she is an author who thoroughly explores the possibilities of expression in manga. While reading popular works is an important way to enjoy manga, Takano’s works are written in a way that makes them worthwhile to read slowly, turning the pages carefully, one volume at a time.

 The short story “Tanabe no Tsuru” appears to be a typical depiction of everyday life in a household, but the more you read, you realise that the character who appears as a young girl is actually an elderly woman with dementia. While other characters in the story recognise that the girl is an elderly woman, the reader’s reality is manipulated. “Tomoko-san Who Became Sick” is also a short story, and similarly, the reader starts without fully understanding what’s going on. As you read further, you realise it’s a story told from the subjective perspective of the hospitalized main character. However, the reader doesn’t see the main character themselves until the very end, experiencing the story solely through the sights seen and sounds heard by the main character. The author, Takano, is the first person that comes to mind when I want to closely analyse a manga.

If you’re looking for something else to read closely, I also recommend Fumiyo Kouno’s “In this Corner of the World”, which has also been adapted into an animated film. This is another manga where the enjoyment comes from deciphering details. There are also meta-experimental elements, such as panels in which the paper a character is drawing on blends into the comic frame itself. Kono gives the impression of being a manga artist who explores the expressive possibilities of manga, such as giving meaning to the detailed depictions in the background later or showing the passage of time by having only character’s bodies grow. Even if you’ve seen the animated film, I highly recommend reading the original manga.

Students interested in current otaku culture will also find Kazuhiko Shimamoto’s “Aoi Honoo” to be a great way to understand otaku’s roots and the atmosphere of the 1980s. It’s an autobiographical work by Shimamoto, and Hideaki Anno, who would later create “Evangelion,” appears as a classmate from university within it. It’s a valuable work as a testament to that era, describing the impact of reading manga by Rumiko Takahashi and Mitsuru Adachi in real time. It shows the lives of young people buying VCRs — luxury items back then — to enjoy anime. If you go back to the 1970s or earlier, there are many rather classic works, but I think a sense of continuity can be felt from the boom of subculture in the 1980s to the present day. There’s a fascinating aspect to reliving history through the autobiographical manga of an author who experienced that era as a young person. 

“Genshiken” by Shimoku Kio, which began publication in 2002, is also a good work for understanding the atmosphere of that time. It depicts the daily life of an otaku club that is mainly composed of boys, and you can feel the passion that otaku had for Comic Market (used for selling self-published manga) at the time. The publication ended in 2006, but after a short break it resumed in 2010 as “Genshiken 2”. In the resumed work, the original characters appear as seniors (senpai), creating continuity. However, the club also has increased female members. This reflects the changes of the time, where the presence of female otakus was increasing in the media. It is educational to understand the changes and image of otaku culture from the 2000s to 2010s.

Among recent authors, I think Tatsuki Fujimoto, known for “Chainsaw Man”, is an author who is strongly conscious of manga as a medium. His one-shot work “Goodbye, Eri” is set in a world where the protagonist is constantly filming a movie with a video camera, and the panels continue in the same horizontal format. Another one-shot, “Look Back”, was also made into an animated film. I’m paying attention to Fujimoto as an author who is exploring what kind of expression he can use within the manga genre, while also being influenced by other genres, such as film.

 

—What do you wish for university students?

Many UTokyo students are good at researching and summarising literature, and with a little practice, anyone can do it. However, what’s important, as stated in the common goals of the first-year humanities seminar classes, is to present your own new questions and arguments. UTokyo offers courses in a variety of fields, but as a faculty member in the fields of culture and art, I want students to avoid falling into simplistic generalisations and instead develop the attitude of seriously engaging with the content within a work. In the case of manga theory, I want students to deepen their thinking based on specific scenes and panels, rather than speaking from vague impressions. There are various methods, but as I mentioned in the essay example I discussed earlier, it is useful to study a work through comparison, to look at things from the perspective of a different field, and to consider previous research. I want students to study with free thinking.