Many of us remember watching the first episode of Lucky Star and the sense of utter confusion that ensued after it was all said and done. I don’t think any of us were expecting to have to check our brains at the door from the start. Of course, the story went on in an atypical, sporadic, punchline fashion while the characters were expounded upon more and more in a most pleasing and somewhat predictable fashion. Azumanga Daioh anyone? Let’s not go there. Anyway, that roundabout conversation that episode one was introduced with of was quickly left by the wayside in light of many of us believing that this would not occur again in later episodes. As Lucky*Star draws to a close, I would like to take this time to look back and speculate upon this pivotal episode that may have been lost to those who would rather watch anime on a casual level, not that there is anything wrong with that.
Within the first ten seconds of the actual episode, we are already given a picture of this short, blue-haired, and otherwise flat-chested girl most of us already knew of as Konata Izumi. We immediately think we have her figured out and think “hey, she’s the athletic type.” As the next twenty seconds pass, we are slammed with the realization, how ever pleasant or irritating it might have been, that yes, Konata is athletic, but she also has full blown otaku surging through her cells.
We reach somewhere around thirty-five to forty seconds into the episode. Konata is now gripping a chocolate cornet between her petite hands, consuming it gradually with an intense focus (or lackadaisically, depending on how you perceive those emerald puppy-dog eyes) in what could only be described as “chibi.” Those who are acutely aware of their otaku status may have exclaimed something along the lines of, “OMG! Quit playing games with my heart!” Why? Because in a matter of about a minute, Konata has exhibited three popular female archetypes, a character technique I have never experienced before in my six years of anime viewing. That, in itself, should have been the key to accepting the fact that Konata is more than meets the eye, and should not be singularly branded.
Of course, such a well-orchestrated introduction of Konata would not be acknowledged, at least not yet. So, the Script Writer and the Episode Director (at the time) forged another diabolical, yet risky plan to throw viewers for a loop with what I like to call: The Cornet Conversation. I give it this name due to how the conversation is initiated and concluded. Konata poses a simple question to Tsukasa Hiiragi: Which end of a chocolate cornet do you start from?. This question begins at the top of the cornet (the smallest ring), and then, as more characters are integrated, progressively spirals down to the bottom while circumventing the entire orbit until it comes right back to Konata’s initial question. The entire conversation goes on for about six minutes straight.
During the Cornet Conversation, Konata, Tsukasa, and Miyuki Tamura show their knowledge about various foods and how to properly treat them before partaking. Konata even reprimands Tsukasa for flipping meat on the grill. Somehow I don’t believe many took to this well, which may have caused a loss of a few potential viewers just because they may have thought this may become a recurring pattern. However, I believe many did stick with Lucky*Star, which is why I posit the following considerations, given my deliberations above.
We are all eccentric, one way or another. Konata is no exception. The idea behind the seemingly pointless drawn-out conversation was to establish a foreshadowing truth that Konata is a person who is capable of taking the time to think deeply about certain topics without having to reference her visual culture obessions. The Cornet Conversation is the third and final saving grace to Konata’s character, representing that even an otaku can hold an ordinary conversation. I believe Konata would like to be understood as a person and as an otaku, but does not care whether she is or not. Regardless of the fact that it was about food, this intent is reinforced, as if the director and script writer are trying to give Konata a chance to be seen as more than simply a character branded with “OTAKU” on her forehead. For the rest of the episode onward, Konata never fails to toot her otaku horn loud and clear regardless of who catches her obscure, hardcore references or not, reserving her moments of “social acceptance” for no more than a few seconds here and there through her cooking and cleaning skills, [not] making a funny face that cracks up her friends, or attending a summer festival. She can be “socially acceptable”, or, at the very least, is not entirely incapable of putting aside her otaku nature.
And then there was episode 22. Ah, episode 22…which once again exposed her underlying sense of being just an ordinary girl just wanting to know more about her deceased mother. I will bet that everyone who saw this episode loved it. Some may have even loved it without being able to put their finger on the real reason why they did, aside from everything that unfolded on the surface. I will venture to guess that the real reason lies in the fact that for a period of time that just about matches the event I spoke about in episode 1, Konata switched archetypes for a little while. Though not any less otaku, she donned that sense of sincere teenage innocence and naivety that we have seen in foundational, classic female characters dating farther back than Sakura Kinomoto (Cardcaptor Sakura) and Tsukino Usagi (Sailor Moon). In a period of weakness, as her likeminded father spoke ever so sincerely about his galge character of a wife, Kanata, Konata’s visual culture otaku ways were discarded and that space became something tender, precious, and priceless. Dare I say… as Konata, in a most composed manner, came to terms with knowing little to nothing about her mother, she, for those minutes, became the most moé character of the entire cast.
Konata Izumi is not simply a senior high school student who is a visual culture otaku. Konata sets a standard for otaku, especially as a female otaku. Even in the midst of playing an intense video game, or watching an addicting anime, or engrossed in a manga series, there is much more in life to open one’s eyes to and experience than just their singular fixation. If you are not otaku and are associated with one, perhaps you should see if there is something more within beyond simply the sweet, teeth-rotting moé character of their desires. I am otaku, and I can tell you that this much is true for me.
Thank you for reading.
lovelykoi
ryokashi
