I just think they're neat
the Vaporeon was a christmas gift from the other year.
Bothering the beast
Wimdy
He's owl đŠ
In Revolutionary Girl Utena, the main character Utena is a girl (it says so in the title), but very conspicuously uses the masculine first person pronoun ć (boku) and dresses in (a variation of) the boys school uniform. Utena's gender, and gender in general, is a core theme of the work. And yet, I havenât seen a single translation or analysis post where anyone considers using anything other than she/her for Utena when speaking of her in English. This made me wonder: how does oneâs choice of pronouns in Japanese correspond to what oneâs preferred pronouns would be in English?
There are 3 main differences between gendered pronouns in Japanese vs English
Japanese pronouns are used to refer to yourself (first-person), while English pronouns are used to refer to others (third-person)
The Japanese pronoun you use will differ based on context
Japanese pronouns signify more than just gender
Letâs look at each of these differences in turn and how these differences might lead to a seeming incongruity between oneâs Japanese pronoun choice and oneâs English pronoun choice (such as the ć (boku) vs she/her discrepancy with Utena).
Part 1: First-person vs third-person
While Japanese does technically have gendered third person pronouns ïŒćœŒăćœŒć„łïŒ they are used infrequentlyÂč and have much less cultural importance placed on them than English third person pronouns. Therefore, I would argue that the cultural equivalent of the gender-signifying third-person pronoun in English is the Japanese first-person pronoun. Much like English âpronouns in bioâ, Japanese first-person pronoun choice is considered an expression of identity.
Japanese pronouns are used exclusively to refer to yourself, and therefore a speaker can change the pronoun theyâre using for themself on a whim, sometimes mid-conversation, without it being much of an incident. Meanwhile in English, Marquis Bey argues that âPronouns are like tiny vessels of verification that others are picking up what you are putting downâ (2021). By having others use them and externally verify the internal truth of oneâs gender, English pronouns, I believe, are seen as more truthful, less frivolous, than Japanese pronouns. They are seen as signifying an objective truth of the referentâs gender; if not objective then at least socially agreed-upon, while Japanese pronouns only signify how the subject feels at this particular moment â purely subjective.
Part 2: Context dependent pronoun use
Japanese speakers often donât use just one pronoun. As you can see in the below chart, a young man using äżș (ore) among friends might use ç§ (watashi) or èȘć (jibun) when speaking to a teacher. This complicates the idea that these pronouns are gendered, because their gendering depends heavily on context. A man using ç§ (watashi) to a teacher is gender-conforming, a man using ç§ (watashi) while drinking with friends is gender-non-conforming. Again, this reinforces the relative instability of Japanese pronoun choice, and distances it from gender.
Part 3: Signifying more than gender
English pronouns signify little besides the gender of the antecedent. Because of this, pronouns in English have come to be a shorthand for expressing oneâs own gender experience - they reflect an internal gendered truth. However, Japanese pronoun choice doesnât reflect an âinternal truthâ of gender. It can signify multiple aspects of your self - gender, sexuality, personality.
For example, ć (boku) is used by gay men to communicate that they are bottoms, contrasted with the use of äżș (ore) by tops. ć (boku) may also be used by softer, academic men and boys (in casual contexts - note that many men use ć (boku) in more formal contexts) as a personality signifier - maybe to communicate something as simplistic as âIâm not the kind of guy whoâs into sports.â äżș (ore) could be used by a butch lesbian who still strongly identifies as a woman, in order to signify sexuality and an assertive personality. ç§ (watashi) may be used by people of all genders to convey professionalism. The list goes on.
I believe this is whatâs happening with Utena - she is signifying her rebellion against traditional feminine gender roles with her use of ć (boku), but as part of this rebellion, she necessarily must still be a girl. Rather than saying âgirls donât use boku, so Iâm not a girlâ, her pronoun choice is saying âyour conception of femininity is bullshit, girls can use boku tooâ.
Through translation, gendered assumptions need to be made, sometimes about real people. Remember that he/they, she/her, they/them are purely English linguistic constructs, and donât correspond directly to oneâs gender, just as they donât correspond directly to the Japanese pronouns one might use. Imagine a scenario where you are translating a news story about a Japanese genderqueer person. The most ethical way to determine what pronouns they would prefer would be to get in contact with them and ask them, right? But what if they donât speak English? Are you going to have to teach them English, and the nuances of English pronoun choice, before you can translate the piece? That would be ridiculous! Itâs simply not a viable optionÂČ. So you must make a gendered assumption based on all the factors - their Japanese pronoun use (context dependent!), their clothing, the way they present their body, their speech patterns, etc.
If translation is about rewriting the text as if it were originally in the target language, you must also rewrite the gender of those people and characters in the translation. The question you must ask yourself is: How does their gender presentation, which has been tailored to a Japanese-language understanding of gender, correspond to an equivalent English-language understanding of gender? This is an incredibly fraught decision, but nonetheless a necessary one. Itâs an unsatisfying dilemma, and one that poignantly exposes the fickle, unstable, culture-dependent nature of gender.
Notes and References
Âč Usually in Japanese, speakers use the personâs name directly to address someone in second or third person
ÂČ And has colonialist undertones as a solution if you ask me - âYou need to pick English pronouns! You ought to understand your gender through our language!â
Bey, Marquisâ 2021 Re: [No Subject]âOn Nonbinary Gender
Rose divider taken from this post
Often translated as âgodâ, a Japanese kami is closer to the concept of a spirit.Â
They are (mostly) not considered to be omniscient nor omnipotent, but rather they influence the human world within a certain capacity.
They are believed to be manifestations of musubi, the interconnecting energy of the universe.
It is often said that in Japan there are 8 million kami. Some of the more well known are Amaterasu-o-mi-kami the sun goddess, Inari the rice god/dess (their gender depends on their aspect), and Ebisu the god of wealth and commerce.
In the Ghibli movie âSpirited Awayâ, the main character Chihiro finds herself working in a bathhouse for some of these kami.
(Fact for language geeks: The original Japanese title of the Ghibli movie âSpirited Awayâ uses the word ç„é ă kamikakushi - literally âhidden by kamiâ.)
Whether or not most people actually believe in kami is unclear, but it seems that many people believe in luck and unseen forces. Certainly the shrines are crowded at New Years time, and also at the start of the new financial year when many business people queue to pray to Ebisu.
Chilling đ±đ