Last night, we learned that the world lost a towering figure in sequential art: Akira Toriyama, creator of the manga and anime Dragon Ball, and character designer for the video games Dragon Quest and Chrono Trigger.
Toriyama’s oddball sense of humor, unique art style, and sense of movement led to a unique combination. For all we talk about the Dragon Ball Z anime being full of long stretches of muscle guys yelling at each other, the original manga is actually very fast-paced, exciting, tense, and funny. It helped redefine shonen manga in ways we still see today—series like Naruto, One Piece, and My Hero Academia owe a clear debt to Toriyama—not to mention other artists around the world who tout him as an influence. The President of France gave condolences.
As it happens, I’d been turning over in my head some thoughts about shonen manga and what writers might learn from it for the last few months. It’s been known for decades that boys tend to be more reluctant readers, and there often tends to be less middle-grade or YA fiction directly aimed at them; it’s not unusual to hear that boys tend to skip past YA to adult fiction.1 Toriyama’s death made me realize I can’t waste any more time, and I should get those thoughts out there. So to start with:
What is Shonen Manga?
Shōnen (少年) is a Japanese term for “boy;” in anime/manga fandom, it connotes material aimed at boys, especially from late grade school to their teens. This is in contrast to shoujo manga (少女), which is aimed at girls, and seinen (青年) and josei (女性), which are aimed at men and women, respectively, and tend to feature more mature stories and content. There aren’t really hard and fast boundaries between these categories, but it’s good enough for our purposes today.
Most manga are published first as thick weekly or monthly anthologies, then collected later in paperback form for bookstores. It’s in these magazines that the demographic categories are really emphasized. Manga for boys are published in magazines like Shonen Sunday (Shogakukan), Shonen Gangan (Square Enix), Shonen Magazine (Kodansha), Shonen Ace (Kadokawa), and the undisputed king in terms of sales and cultural impact, Weekly Shonen Jump. The most popular anime tend to be based on Jump manga—My Hero Academia, One Piece, Hunter x Hunter, Spy x Family, Death Note, Fist of the North Star, and I could keep going on like this for ages.
And between them, these titles cover a wide range of genres, art styles, and sensibilities. So what is it that sets this apart? Just what is it about shonen manga that pulls people in?
Friendship, Effort, Victory
The above is the unofficial, unwritten motto of Shonen Jump. Supposedly (according to the Japanese Wikipedia article—thank you, Google Translate) it was developed by Shonen Book editor Nori Nagano from surveys of 4th and 5th graders on the words with the best connotations.2 Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure creator Hirohiko Araki, in his book Manga in Theory and Practice,3 connects them to the reader’s “natural sense of ethics.”
On the other hand, other authors (including Toriyama himself) deny relying on it, and Jump editors say that there is no such motto, as seen in these panels from The Right Way to Make Jump:
(remember to read right to left!)
However, as you see here, the editor says, “Of course, when you’re making shonen manga, these three mottos come up naturally.” And when you read shonen manga with them in mind, you start to see them everywhere, even if you sometimes have to squint. Therefore, I believe if you keep them in mind in your writing, you’ll wind up with a similar vibe.
Friendship: 友情 - Yūjō. JMDict defines this as “friendship, fellowship, camaraderie,” and Japanese Wikipedia (courtesy of Google Translate) calls it “An attitude of believing in and protecting like-minded friends no matter what.” It’s a simple fact that for children and teenagers, their most valued relationships, aside from their parents, are with their friends.4 However, “Friendship” in shonen manga isn’t necessarily just about guys being good pals; it’s about teamwork, cooperation, altruism, and loyalty. You’ll often see a core group of friends—or family members, or classmates, or even a romantic couple—who aren’t merely a supporting cast, but a group helping each other, supporting each other, and sacrificing for each other.
As Hirohiko Araki notes, the real heroes are those who don’t act for personal gain. When writing a chapter of Thus Spoke Rohan Kishibe, he felt he could submit it once he had Rohan fighting to protect somebody. Similarly, when he introduced Jotaro Kujo, he wrote him as an abrasive delinquent; but he has an inner kindness that calls him to action when people he loves are in trouble.
In Dragon Ball, what we see is Goku’s basic kind-heartedness drawing people into his orbit, earning respect from former rivals like Krillin and turning bitter enemies like Piccolo and Vegeta into close allies. Even when he ventures off on his own, he’s always willing to help someone he cares about; and hurting them is a surefire way to make him furious.
Seen in this light, Friendship can be interpreted broadly, and needs to be taken very seriously. Just think about every positive connotation of the term “Bro” (and forget about the negative ones). Think of the Predator Handshake meme. When you hear about an anime villain being defeated by the Power of Friendship, I think this is often what’s going on. There’s simply only so much a shonen protagonist can do alone; Friendship is an important source of power.
Effort: 努力, “doryoku.” “In order to achieve your aspirations, you will not give up and strive for your aspirations no matter how difficult the situation may be” If there’s anything that truly defines a shonen hero, it’s effort. It’s the willingness to rise up to a challenge. According to Hirohiko Araki, readers won’t sympathize with a cowardly protagonist.5 Goku is always looking forward to the chance to fight someone stronger. Death quite literally will not stop him from training.
We also see Effort play out in their rivalries. Up above we see Krillin demanding Goku give him his best. Goku and Vegeta’s whole dynamic is the two trying to top each other. Meanwhile in Bakuman, just about every artist is in some sort of rivalry with one another—while still remaining fierce allies! For them, the rivalry is how they bring out the best in themselves and each other. One artist succeeds, and the rest push themselves harder to match them; one artist flags, and the others start to flag with them. It’s no fun competing with someone who isn’t putting in their best effort. Everyone is rooting for each other while simultaneously competing with each other.
The Washington Post puts it well:
Athletes often cite “Dragon Ball” as an inspiration because of Toriyama’s focus on telling stories about determination and grit. Old stories about Spider Man and Batman would focus only on the conflicts, interpersonal and otherwise. The stories of “Dragon Ball,” however, created entire story arcs and multipart sagas specifically about training and self-improvement. What would be a throwaway training montage in other stories, Toriyama would use as an opportunity to build up characters and tension.
I’d go so far as to name this as part of the reason for the sprawling nature of shonen story arcs. Taking into account Lincoln Michel’s caveats about kishōtenketsu6 and our tendency to over-exoticize it, it does serve as something of a key to shonen manga. Hirohiko Araki swears by it, calling it an “immutable rule of story writing.” He also, however, points out that kishōtenketsu is malleable: you can put ten before the ki, or even have ki-shō-ten-ten-ten-ten-ten-ketsu if you want. As Araki puts it, “through each ten your protagonist must always be growing” (p. 89). Each ten is something new that demands ever more effort by the hero before he can get to the ketsu.
Victory: 勝利, ryouri, “aiming for success to the very end without giving up.” Based on Japanese Wikipedia’s definition, I think this is less about victory as the outcome and more as the goal. Most writers already realize that the protagonist’s goal is an important part of the story. Without it, you have no conflict. With no conflict, there isn’t really much of a story.
With shonen manga, what you often see is goal-setting amped up to the point of single-mindedness. The hero has a something they want to achieve, and will do whatever it takes to achieve that goal without compromising their principles. Naruto wants to be the next Hokage. Tanjiro wants to make his sister human again. Ed wants to reunite Al’s soul with his body. Goku wants to find the next person stronger than him and fight him.
Shonen heroes don’t necessarily always win. Goku loses his first two Tenka’ichi Budokai tournaments. In Death Note, Light eventually gets caught and punished for his crimes. Not every manga the protagonists of Bakuman create is a success. But I think a lot of what goes into a good shonen manga is the same thing an inspiring sports story. Think of every Olympic athlete you’ve ever heard of: someone who has trained their entire life just to compete in this contest. It’s the fight against insurmountable odds that matters more than the actual win or loss. It’s just a natural human trait to root for others when they make an honest effort. We get invested in their passion, and even if it’s something we weren’t previously interested in, we start to see what the big deal is. See, for example, when Hikaru no Go sparked a revival of an ancient Chinese board game among Japanese youth.
Just consider Rocky Balboa. He loses his first fight against Apollo Creed. But by then we’re familiar with his hopes and dreams; we’ve seen him develop a relationship with Adrian; we’ve stood by him while he trains; and we’ve seen him surprise everybody with his tenacity. He’s not just here to make the champ look good. He may have lost the match, but he’s proven everybody wrong about him, so it’s still a victory as far as the story’s concerned.7
Bringing It All Together
This isn’t necessarily meant to be a perfect guide to what makes shonen shonen. But I think these principles potentially provide a useful way forward for writers. So what does that look like?
Well, first, I want to make a note about genre. There’s no single genre of shonen manga. Rather, it can encompass any genre, from high fantasy to historical drama to slice-of-life to romantic comedy to horror to screwball comedy to sports. Toriyama’s first hit wasn’t an action series, but the gag manga Dr. Slump. You also don’t have to be male, or have a male protagonist. One of the most successful shonen manga artists of all time is also one of the most successful female comic book artists, Inuyasha and Urusei Yatsura creator Rumiko Takahashi. Right now Shonen Jump is running a manga about a teenage girl trying to make it in the world of rakugo. On paper (especially by the logic of American comics), that should be a failure, but as of this writing, it’s up to 104 chapters.
So as far as what to write about, the sky’s the limit. What seems to make shonen shonen is the overall attitude. Take a protagonist who’s passionate about what they do and explore how they pursue that passion together with a close ally or group of them, and you’ve basically got shonen manga. The alliances and struggles in shonen manga are relatable to any young man playing on a sports team, learning an instrument, growing up in a rough neighborhood, or just working on a fun personal project. Some bizarre, tasteless humor and imagery doesn’t usually hurt. I speak from experience: boys love a good gross-out.
A few months ago I wrote a short story, which I’m getting ready to shop around, attempting to build on these concepts. It’s a science fiction story about a seventh-grade inventor who’s made a high-tech arm brace for a friend, with help from another friend, whose family came from another planet. The three of them plan to submit it together as a science project. Friendship.
Throughout the day, they try the brace in different scenarios and settings so they can collect data. They can make it as weak or strong as they want. In fact, during a confrontation with a bully, it turns out the brace isn’t to enhance its user’s strength, but to suppress it—the protag’s friend has a condition that makes that arm far too strong to be useable. So he also has to use it responsibly. Effort.
And the three characters have the common goal of ensuring this device works as intended and can help the user lead a normal life. They could even patent it! Victory.
I’ll see if any editors want to bite on it.
Anybody like where I’m going with this? Or I’m off-base? Or, heck, did you get any ideas? I’m especially interested in whether you know any existing books that you think have the same overall vibe as shonen manga.
This was sort of the case for me. As a kid, I was a reluctant reader, and in 7th and 8th grade, when I did read, it was things like Jurassic Park and Interview with the Vampire—books that inspired then-hit movies—rather than YA. Granted, this was before Harry Potter, but still.
See also the Japanese WP article on “Friendship, Effort, Victory.” Google Translate will help.
Which I recommend to anybody who wants to understand how anime and manga tick from an insider’s point of view.
Of course, Friendship is arguably just as persistent a theme in shoujo manga. After all, the magazine that originally published Sailor Moon and Cardcaptor Sakura is called Nakayoshi, which itself means “Friend.” The same publisher puts out Bessatsu Friend. And the characters can be just as fierce in their loyalty to each other as any shonen protag. So Friendship by itself isn’t necessarily a distinguishing marker.
A villain or supporting character, on the other hand? Make ‘em as craven and self-serving as possible!
I maintain that if you really want to grasp the storytelling potential of kishōtenketsu, you shouldn’t watch Ghibli movies. You should read Chainsaw Man.
In fact, its sequel Creed 3 rather famously drew on shonen anime for inspiration.
This was a fantastic read. And to your point (at least a little) I’m seeing so many more graphic novels for young readers drawing inspiration from manga, Shonen or otherwise. Taka, for instance, just came out, and it’s so manga-esque.