[Floating Clouds and Flowing Water] A device that allows you to simulate the diverse perspectives of people you don't know at all—what social technology called manga makes possible
When you place the words "masterpiece" and "good work" side by side, it looks as if the masterpiece carries almost all the value. However, when looking at bookstore shelves, you notice that there are actually far more works that haven't become major topics of conversation. This time, using the very existence of these "good works" as a clue, I considered the conditions that allow manga to sustain such a massive number of small works.
Furano and Phrona arrived at an answer that was unexpectedly blunt, yet hit the core. Their perspectives diverge slightly along the way. One approaches the same question from economic conditions, while the other approaches it from the flow of emotions. When you finish reading, the way you see the manga you usually read might have changed a little.
The mysterious depth of good works
Furano: Japan is called a manga superpower, but even so, there aren't actually that many works called masterpieces, are there?
Phrona: Yeah, but if you go to a bookstore, the shelves in the manga section are packed.
Furano: Assuming all of those are good works, or rather, works that are close to unknown, they keep remaining in such numbers. This volume is rarely seen in other media.
Phrona: I wonder about novels. I don't feel like the shelves are filled to that extent.
Furano: Just looking at the number of publications, manga should be in a different order of magnitude. That was the first thing that caught my attention.
Phrona: It's a depth that can't be explained just by saying they're popular.
Furano: I think so too. It's not that the number of titles increases because they are popular, but I feel there is a different reason why they can exist even if the number of titles increases.
Phrona: "Can exist," I like that phrasing. It means it's not like someone is orchestrating it.
Furano: That's right. It's not like someone is systematically mass-producing good works. Yet, this many are lined up.
Point Commentary
The distinction between masterpieces and good works is often discussed as a "difference in quality." However, from the perspective of quantity, this distinction shows a slightly different aspect. While works called masterpieces remain in the extreme minority, countless works called good works, or not even called anything at all, actually fill the bookstore shelves.
This asymmetry cannot be dismissed simply as a distribution of popularity. If it were a distribution of popularity, it should settle into a form of a few hits and many misses. However, the group of good works lined up on manga shelves are established as works before they are weeded out as misses. What should be questioned is not "why do they sell," but rather the conditions prior to production, such as "why can so many things become works in the first place."
When this question is posed, the gaze naturally turns to the side of "who can make them, and under what conditions." The next dialogue heads precisely toward that topic of production conditions.
The condition that it can be established even by one person
Furano: Manga, to put it extremely, can be started by one person if you have paper and a pen. Of course, works that appear in commercial magazines involve editors and printing companies, but in terms of the minimum conditions for establishment, it doesn't require that many people.
Phrona: It's not like that with movies. Cameras, lighting, actors, editing, a place to release it. The number of people involved is different from the start.
Furano: Theater is the same. There is a stage, there is a time for the audience to gather, and the prerequisites for it to be established are heavy. Manga doesn't have that weight.
Phrona: Because it's light, you can start without going through a planning meeting.
Furano: Yes, I think that's a big part of it. Where large capital moves, projects that reach many people are inevitably prioritized. Small discomforts or stories that only resonate with a limited number of people are easily rejected at that point.
Phrona: That means the way they are rejected is loose in manga.
Furano: Loose, or rather, it can be established even without anyone to reject it in the first place. You can draw it alone and complete it alone.
Phrona: That means it's already a work before the market even gets a chance to choose it, right?
Furano: That's right. It manages to exist as a work before it's even put on the market. In other media, this order tends to be reversed.
Phrona: Like, there's a selection process first, and only the things that are chosen take shape.
Furano: Manga is loose in that regard, so even things that shouldn't have been chosen take shape for the time being.
Key Point Explanation
The lightness of production conditions is not merely a matter of convenience in creation. Rather, it determines the very scope of what can become a work. In media that require large capital and organizations, the question of 'who will this reach' is asked at the planning stage, and things with a narrow reach are dropped before they are even started. This is a selection mechanism that exists before decision-making, and it also means that the possibilities of a work are narrowed down as a system.
Manga allows a work to be established before this selection mechanism can function. If a single creator has paper and a pen, there are few situations where they would be stopped from starting just because the reach is narrow. As a result, subject matter that only resonates with a limited number of readers takes shape first, and whether it reaches them or not is decided later.
This reversal of order is the foundation of the phenomenon of the 'fine work.' It is not made after being chosen, but chosen after being made. That is why works that were not chosen, or have not yet been chosen, can exist with such depth.
The story that even small stories can reach people
Phrona: Regarding what you said earlier, it might get established, but whether it actually reaches people is a different issue, right?
Furano: That's right. Being established and reaching people are different, and I think one more condition is needed there.
Phrona: You mean the power of manga's art?
Furano: Yes. Expressions, timing, the white space in the panels. I feel like those aren't explanations, but mechanisms to make the reader experience it.
Phrona: It's faster to be shown than to be explained, isn't it? Sometimes you can understand a situation just from a single panel where someone's face suddenly freezes.
Furano: In a novel, you have to construct that with words. It takes time for the reader, too.
Phrona: Manga can convey it at a glance. The speed of delivery is different.
Furano: Because of this speed, even small stories can be established and reach people. It's as if a 'fine work' only functions as a 'fine work' when both are present.
Phrona: So it's not just that you can make it, but that you can make it in a form that conveys it.
Furano: Exactly. It can be conveyed, and what's more, you can make it alone. This combination is probably a strength that only manga possesses.
Key Point Explanation
The speed of conveyance is often dismissed as 'empathy,' but what is actually at work is a more concrete mechanism. Expressions, gazes, timing, and white space do not explain the situation; they present it directly. The reader receives the scene itself without having to go through the process of constructing meaning.
Only when this speed is combined with the lightness of production conditions does the phenomenon of the 'fine work' function. Being able to make it alone and the fact that what is made is conveyed are separate conditions, and neither one alone would produce this much depth.
Lightness is also a double-edged sword
Furano: However, this lightness isn't just a good thing. The fact that the barrier to entry is low also means that elimination works in a different way.
Phrona: Ah, you mean the pressure to conform to a formula that sells.
Furano: That's right. Precisely because it can be created by one person, there is an aspect where everyone is easily drawn toward patterns that are 'likely to succeed'.
Phrona: Like tear-jerking plot developments or easy-to-understand character roles.
Furano: When those pile up, what was supposed to open up perspectives ends up, before you know it, working to fix those patterns in place.
Phrona: So, the story about how low capital allows for freedom and the story about how low capital makes it easy to fall into patterns come from the same root, right?
Furano: Yes, the same root. That's why this topic isn't something that can simply end with praising manga.
Phrona: I don't want to praise it. Rather, I think it's more about how there are things we need to be careful about precisely because of this looseness.
Furano: Indeed. The freedom of being able to create and the danger of being able to create are probably inseparable.
Point Commentary
Low barriers to entry are a condition that enables diverse perspectives, but at the same time, they are also conditions where market selection easily takes effect. The fact that one can start alone means there is also significant room for the creator to lean toward 'sellable patterns' themselves. Therefore, the liberation of perspectives and the standardization of perspectives must be grasped as two inseparable consequences arising from the same production conditions. The stance of unconditionally praising manga tends to overlook this second consequence. If we are to discuss low capital, we should keep both the freedom it brings and the bias it brings within the same discussion.
Masterpieces bind, good works weave
Furano: Returning to the topic of good works from earlier, masterpieces create shared memories, don't they? Like how everyone knows the same scene.
Phrona: Yeah, I think that's the power to bind horizontally. Even people who don't know each other can connect by talking about the same work.
Furano: I feel like good works perform a different function. They don't become shared memories, but for a certain individual, they hit on something very precisely.
Phrona: For me, the term 'mesh' fits that well. It feels like weaving with fine threads rather than binding with thick ones.
Furano: Mesh, that's good. If masterpieces are horizontal connections, good works act in the vertical or depth direction.
Phrona: Plus, what masterpieces create is visible from the outside. It becomes numbers, it becomes a topic of conversation. But what good works are weaving is almost invisible from the outside.
Furano: It's just a one-time event where, within a certain reader, a sense of discomfort that couldn't be put into words before has been given a contour.
Phrona: Yeah. But that is happening not just to one person, but countless times in countless places.
Furano: Each instance is small, but when they pile up, I feel like it changes how much detail of pain society can pick up. A coarse net can only scoop up big fish, but as the mesh becomes finer, it becomes possible to scoop up things that previously slipped through.
Phrona: And what's making that mesh finer, to return to the earlier point, is the lightness of the fact that a work can be completed by even one person.
Furano: That's right. If it weren't for that lightness, it wouldn't have become such a fine mesh. If it were a world of only masterpieces, I think the mesh would have remained much coarser.
Phrona: So, the topic of low capital requirements wasn't just about it being 'easy to make,' was it?
Furano: Yes. I think that was an inconspicuous condition for keeping the mesh of social sensitivity this fine.
Key Point Explanation
Masterpieces serve the function of binding an unspecified number of people together with the same memories. In contrast, good works serve a function distinct from binding: they give shape to individual experiences. The former works in the direction of breadth, while the latter works in the direction of nuance. The shared memories created by masterpieces become numbers, become topics of conversation, and are visible from the outside. What good works weave is merely a one-time event where a sense of discomfort is given shape within a certain reader, and it is almost invisible from the outside.
However, when that one-time event occurs countless times among countless readers, it becomes a process of making the mesh of social sensitivity finer. Pain and discomfort that could not be caught by a coarse mesh can only be caught once the mesh becomes finer. The condition of low capital requirements we have looked at so far was not merely a convenience in production, but an inconspicuous foundation that makes this fineness of the mesh possible.
Such a circuit for giving scenes to and circulating nameless emotions in daily life is not an invention unique to manga, but rather an extension of the functions that rakugo and kusazoshi have carried. Even if the form changes, the role of scooping up the subtleties of daily relationships has been passed down without interruption.
This article is a reconstruction in dialogue format based on
Masterpieces connect, good works weave—the freedom of manga as a popular medium
, which was published in advance on the Projeteam, Inc. website. The original article discusses, with the condition of 'why it can be established by one person' as the axis, the differences in functions between masterpieces and good works, and even the ambiguity brought about by lightness, including parts that could not be touched upon in the dialogue. If you view them together, the discussion might appear more three-dimensional.
Seung-cheol Seo's Magazine