China’s Cleopatra

24999580The Indonesian edition of my biography of Empress Wu has just been published, with a racy new title and an even racier new cover.

“Dalam kisah nyata yang sensasional ini, Jonathan Clements menuturkan kisah kelam dan dramatis satu-satunya kaisar perempuan dalam sejarah China, Wu Zetian: selir, manipulator, politikus, pembunuh, dan titisan dewi. Inilah kisah Cleopatra dari China; kisah tentang pembunuhan, seks, cinta, kekuasaan, dan pembalasan dendam…” or “In this sensational true story, Jonathan Clements tells the dramatic tale of the dark and only female emperor in Chinese history, Wu Zetian: concubine, manipulator, politician, murderer, and incarnation of a goddess. This is the story of China’s Cleopatra — a tale of murder, sex, love, power, and revenge…” In your face, Game of Thrones. For the English original, recently reissued on paperback and the Kindle by Albert Bridge Books, see here in the UK or here in the US.

Bodacious Data

b-pirate-1-2Work continues over at the Encyclopedia of Science Fiction, with yours truly writing entries about Yuichi Sasamoto, creator of Bodacious Space Pirates, and Kazumasa Hirai, creator of Harmagedon. The wordcount of my combined Japan and China entries in the SFE is now actually bigger than Anime: A History, and it’s all available for free.

Obscenities in Spartacus

Lucy-Lawless-SpartacusThe Romans can be charming. They are justly regarded as the foundation of much of our modern culture. But they were also a bunch of bloodthirsty fascists.

Rome shouldn’t be too much fun. Spartacus is going to rise up one day. He is going to lead a revolt, which means that my novel Swords and Ashes needed to make it very clear that we shouldn’t like the Romans. This is harder than it looks when the main mouthpieces for the Romans are Lucretia and Batiatus, so winningly played in the TV series by Lucy Lawless and John Hannah. Sometimes, it’s possible to forget that we’re supposed to hate them. The readership has to identify with the slaves, not the masters. Because when the new season of Spartacus: Vengeance kicks off, you need to know what side you’re on.

If a reader finds someone with whom they identify, they have to be on the losing side, crushed and broken by the powers that be. This isn’t too hard with a wide-ranging underclass of slaves, although it can be jarring in an age of overbearing political correctness to write dialogue for a bunch of impossibly privileged, grasping, murderous bigots. So I set out to find a way to disgust, at least once, literally everybody who was likely to pick up a copy of Spartacus: Swords & Ashes. You have to close the book thinking what a great thing it would be if someone stood up to these bastards, and that means you should be offended.

SpartacusSaga_Marquee8_1440x651Women? Easy to do with a society whose foundation myth is based on rape, and whose ladies were regarded as chattels. Animal-lovers? Plenty of opportunity with ‘entertainments’ comprising repeated cruelty to an entire menagerie of innocent creatures – I knew I was onto a winner here when even my editor said she was a bit queasy after reading one scene. She took it out. I sneaked it back in.

Ethnic minorities? The Romans saw no colour, but that didn’t stop them being casually racist about almost everybody. ‘Asians’, which is to say, people from the Middle East, were mistrusted as a bunch of oriental weirdoes. Greeks were envied and despised, for having all the culture that the Romans plundered, and answered in turn by snootily dismissing the Romans as a bunch of philistines. And if you are from northern Europe – lawless, wild places like Britannia – the Romans think you are a savage. I even managed to get in a snide comment about wine from France being ‘barbaric’ – it would be another generation before Caesar conquered Gaul.

Your grandmother? When the show’s best-loved line is “Jupiter’s Cock!”, I think we’ve got that covered.

Gays? Now there’s a tough one. Spartacus has a huge gay following, particularly for the tender romance between the Carthaginian gladiator Barca and his lover Pietros. So I made it as clear as I could that just because there were homosexuals in Rome, and in open view in the TV show, it didn’t mean that their social position was necessarily welcome.

The Roman author Seneca once wrote of the layout of a ludus which had so many gay gladiators that they had their own wing. Homosexuality, it seems, was no bar to success in the arena, but the Romans certainly did not condone it. Instead, Seneca writes of how the gladiators who love men get to practice their “obscenities” in private, where none might see their “disease”. I made sure I’d have someone say that.

The entire human race? If you’re a human being (Yes? Check.) then the mere notion of slavery should be enough to set you off, particularly when I go into such detail about what it could mean for people on a daily basis. In particular, I delved deep into Roman law, to show how terrible a slave’s life could be, and the true side-effects of a life with no control whatsoever over one’s fate or body.

So that was everybody taken care of, except possibly me. My wife saw to that at Christmas, when she eagerly snatched up my advance copy, and started reading some of the sex scenes out to my mother. It made me feel distinctly uneasy… I had even managed to offend myself.

This article originally appeared in January 2012 as a guest post on Blogomatic, to promote my novel Spartacus: Swords & Ashes (US/UK). I repost it here because the original site seems to have disappeared.

All That Matters

1794542_10152891885498054_7621884663292162755_n“Japan is still living five years into the future, but whereas that was once a breathless boast of oncoming technologies and trends, today it’s a warning of the crises that could also face the developed world as a whole.” Over at The Japan Times, I am interviewed by JJ O’Donoghue about my new book, Modern Japan: All That Matters (US/UK).

Speculate to Accumulate

battle_004It’s been less than a year since this column (NEO #123) called attention to the intricacies of J-LOP, a funding scheme designed to generate foreign revenue for Japan by helping the translation and marketing industries. Ever since the Aso administration, Japan has been particularly wise to the potential of intellectual property, and the excellent opportunities it offers a recession-hit economy to sell something without actually losing anything, all the better to sell it all again. Renting access to viewers and readers is the ultimate post-modern money-maker, and the Japanese government is determined to encourage the very sort of thing that you, dear reader, love.

Or is it? Already with J-LOP there was the faint whiff of jobs for the boys, with the money being handed in a “trickle-down” format, given to the bigwigs and copyright holders, and then passed on down to their minions. Now comes the news that Dragon Ball Z: Battle of Gods went into production with a new “Unijapan” development grant of fifty million yen. That’s almost £287,000.

Now let’s be honest, Akira Toriyama is hardly standing outside in the street with an eye-patch and a tin cup. Nor is Toei Animation on the skids. Battle of Gods got its money because 20th Century Fox was able to match it pound for pound, but it also came with a guarantee of success – first DBZ film for 17 years, sure to pack Japanese cinemas. Doubtless the movie earned back its money at the box office, and generated plenty of cash and tax and talk. But in backing such a self-fulfilling prophecy, wasn’t the funding body going for the easiest and least risky option? Maybe, if you were a Japanese tax payer, you would welcome the idea that arts funds were going on something that was sure to make a profit, but is that really what arts funding is for?

However, Unijapan isn’t about arts funding, it’s a hard-nosed scheme to generate capital investment. It’ll only give you a maximum of 20% of a film’s budget, which means four times as much money has to come from real investors. Perhaps more interestingly for us, its qualifications for animated productions do not require production in Japan – you can make the whole thing in China if you like, as long as the top staff are Japanese. Hmm… wonder how that’s going to work out…?

This article first appeared in NEO 132, 2014. Jonathan Clements is the author of Anime: A History, in shops now (UK/US).

Choice Award

41bkTuP9TdL._SY445_Apparently my book Anime: A History (US/UK) has just been selected as one of 23 Palgrave titles receiving this year’s Choice Award, a recommendation dished out by Choice: Current Reviews for Academic Libraries, a publication of the American Library Association. “This list of publications reflects the best in scholarly titles and is designed to attract the attention of the academic library community,” quoth Palgrave.

Undercover Manga

shimajiro appI’ve been wondering for a while when the Doraemon bomb was going to go off. Every time I’ve been to China in the last three years, amid ever-escalating sabre-rattling over the Senkaku Islands, I have found the locals avidly denying any interest in Japanese culture. I have found media students unprepared to work on papers about anime, for fear that the word “Japan” will be on their resumé ever more. And I have watched, every day, as two Japanese invaders march in right under Chinese noses.

One is Shimajiro, an infant tiger cub who appears in a hybrid kids’ show that is part anime, part live-action play school. I’ve watched Shimajiro sing songs about London Bridge and demonstrate how to go to the toilet, and nobody has noticed that he’s really Japanese, because the broadcasters have stripped out the original live-action framing footage and replaced it with Chinese people. Also, they don’t make the mistake of calling him Shimajiro, either. In China, he is known as Qiao Hu Dao, the “brave and clever tiger.”

doraemonThe other is Doraemon, that time-travelling blue robot cat who recently enjoyed the surprising honour of a 12,000-page manga translation funded by Japanese government boondoggle money. Doraemon remains a popular movie and TV figure with anime audiences, but was also the subject of so much manga piracy in decades past that he is known by several different names in the Chinese world. My favourite is Ding Dang the Robot Cat (ding-dang, you see, being Mandarin for ding-dong, if you ever need it). He’s even the subject of an exhibition in Hong Kong, which trilled, unwisely, about his true origins.

The Japanese authorities, excited at the amount of love for Ding Dang all over the mainland, have made Doraemon a cultural ambassador, thereby pushing their soft power agenda by showing the Chinese that a perennial favourite was actually from the other side of the water. This has entertainingly backfired, with a schmuck-bait editorial in the Chengdu Daily pointing out the blindingly obvious – that Doraemon was an effort to make Japan look cute and less threatening – and several lesser newspapers getting increasingly irate about the idea, with the Global Times frothing “we must never let a little robotic cat take control of our minds.” Top tip.

This article first appeared in NEO 131, 2014. Jonathan Clements is the author of Anime: A History, in shops now (UK/US).

Empress Wu: Too Hot for TV?

empress wuThis week’s Telegraph reports that the new TV show Empress of China, all about the scandalous Empress Wu, has been taken off air amid scurrilous gossip over its revealing costumes and grotesque violence. Robert Foyle Hunwick in Beijing notes that: “The State Administration of Press, Publication, Radio, Film and Television (SAPPRFT), China’s chief censors, has issued regulations banning depictions of one-night stands, adultery, sexual abuse, rape, polyamory, necrophilia, prostitution, nudity and masturbation, as well as murder, suicide, drug use, gambling and even racy subtitles and puns.” Well, that pretty much covers a to-do list of any historically accurate account of Empress Wu. Oh, except gambling; I don’t remember any gambling.

For more about the historical Empress Wu, see my interview here, my article on film adaptations here, or listen to my Woman’s Hour interview here.