Hallmark Holiday or Sadie Hawkins Day in Tokyo?Valentine's Day, Japanese Style, Part 1
However, the Japanese concept of Valentine's Day is far more specifically food — or at least chocolate — oriented than it is in the English-speaking world. There is no Japanese tradition of sending paper valentines expressing one's admiration in either heartfelt or tongue in cheek verse. According to one website, even the Japanese equivalent of the greeting "Happy Valentine's Day" is seldom used. However, the greeting in question does appear — in English, at least — on the late January/early February edition of the Japanese-language website of the Morinaga chocolate company. For couples who are already in a relationship, especially adults, Western-style romantic dinners, gifts, and chocolates may still figure in the celebration, with one crucial difference — the woman pays for everything. A separate holiday, White Day, which is observed one month later on March 14, was invented by the Japanese confectionery industry in the late 1970's to give the male recipients of this Valentine's largesse the opportunity to pay back female gift-givers. But the Japanese concept of Valentine's Day itself is somewhat analogous to a more commercialized version of the American "ladies' choice" role-reversal holiday Sadie Hawkins Day. The Japanese language section of the About.com website interprets the gender imbalance of that nation's approach to the hearts-and-flowers holiday as an attempt to compensate for Japanese women's supposed shyness about indicating their interest in prospective dates or boyfriends, at least back in the days when Valentine's Day was initially introduced. According to the author of this article, "Valentine's Day was thought to be a great opportunity to let women express their feelings" by purchasing and presenting chocolates from the various confectionery companies that first began promoting this custom five decades ago. However, University of British Columbia anthropology professor Millie Creighton suggests a more pragmatic explanation. According to Creighton, who studies Japanese customs with regard to holidays adopted from the West, a Japanese chocolate-company executive came up with the idea of bringing Valentine's Day over from Europe in the 1950's. Japanese department stores eagerly seized on the new holiday as a means of stimulating the still-sluggish post-World War II economy. Creighton says that the concept of Valentine's Day as an occasion for presentations of chocolate exclusively to men from women was the result of a translation error on the part of the chocolate-company executive, "who mistakenly got the impression that, in Europe, the giving was all one way." The 2003 online account of Creighton's Valentine's Day research goes on, At a time when Japan was hungry for Western items and eager to [emulate] the West, the holiday was touted as an occasion for women to express their individuality. This included giving chocolates to men they were sweet on. And what better symbol of romantic love than chocolate, a Western treat. There is one variation of the Valentine's chocolate-giving ritual that actually subverts traditional gender roles — or backhandedly reinforces them, depending on your point of view. In some manga, at least, "manly" or "cool" tomboyish girls who are the object of crushes by other girls (a situation which in Japan tends to be regarded as an endearingly cute and innocent routine phase, rather than evidence of budding lesbianism) are also showered with Valentine's Day chocolates, along with good-looking boys and male teachers. In a flashback in volume two of Fumi Yoshinaga's Flower of Life (DMP), we discover that, much to her chagrin, this has been happening to the tall, short-haired teacher Saito-sensei — who is so androgynous-looking and -acting that new pupil Harutaro Hanazono initially mistakes her for a rather campy gay man — ever since she was in high school herself.Over the years, however, the holiday has become increasingly stylized, often with explicit behavioral expectations and gift-giving etiquette. Those original expressions of individualism have been largely replaced by the introduction of "giri-choco" [i.e., "obligation chocolate," given to male relatives, bosses, teachers, and other associates to express respect or appreciation rather than romantic interest].
Reminiscing about her own school days to handsome but obnoxiously self-absorbed student Kai Majima over dinner after the final performance of the class play, in which the two of them played the male leads, Saito-sensei bemoans the fact that she never had the opportunity to wear the stereotypical Japanese high school girl's uniform of a sailor suit or a cute blazer-and-skirt combo. Instead, teenage Saito wound up wearing slacks or jeans to school because "the rest of the girls liked me when I dressed [like a boy] ... It's human to want to be liked, isn't it?! Even if it's just by girls! At least that's better than not being liked by anyone at all!" "Ah, I see," the insensitive Majima thinks, uncaringly shoveling steak into his mouth. "So she'd already realized that she wouldn't be attractive to men no matter how hard she tried." The downcast Saito-sensei continues, "In the end ... I consigned myself to my school role as an androgynous metrosexual ... a sad woman who had to accept Valentine's Day chocolates from other girls with a smile." In a flashback, teenage Saito ruefully accepts an offer of chocolate from a female classmate while male teacher Koyanagi-sensei — whom Saito is to eventually encounter again on the faculty of the school where she begins teaching herself years later — stares in amazement at the two shopping bags full of Valentine's candy the boyish-looking student has already acquired. "Wow, Saito ... that's more Valentine's Day chocolate than any of the guys has received, isn't it?" the teacher exclaims. Saito laughs uneasily and replies, "I'm just a convenient substitute for all the girls who don't have any particular boyfriend to give their gifts to ... but I'm fine with that. Even I can tell how fun it must be to make or choose chocolates to give to someone on Valentine's." Koyanagi-sensei, who is something of an irresponsible flirt even at this relatively early stage in his career, then attempts to cajole Saito into giving him one of the mountain of chocolates she has received, claiming that she'll never be able to eat all of them herself. "No can do, sir," Saito responds. "That would be rude to the girls who gave them to me. Besides, I know you've received a lot of chocolates yourself!" "You mean the one you made for me, don't you?" Koyanagi prompts. A long, silent pause ensues. "The one you're going to give to me." Looking like a deer trapped in headlights, Saito finally manages to gasp, "H ... How did you ... ?" "Ha ha ha! I knew it!" her teacher chortles triumphantly.
"Wow, thanks!" grins Koyanagi, himself labeled "Shallow!" in an editorial comment by the mangaka. "I'm so happy to get a Valentine's present from a cute girl like you, Saito!" "Sensei, you liar. I bet you say that to all the girls," mutters the red-faced Saito, who had previously asserted that "No boy would want to accept a chocolate from someone like me!" "No, I mean it," Koyanagi insists, in a somewhat more serious and convincing manner. "I think of you as the cutest girl in the whole school, Saito. Unlike most girls of your age, your manner of speech is proper and elegant. You must have been taking so much care for the other girls to see you in that way ... It's touching. You've made me really happy." Moved to the verge of tears, Saito stutters, "S ... sorry, sensei ... getting a Valentine's gift from a big hulking girl like me ... and you with a wife and all ... I'm sorry ... " "I'm sorry I can't be your boyfriend, Saito," the slightly shorter teacher responds. "I'll be sure to think of you as I eat this chocolate." Back in the present, the disillusioned adult Saito-sensei reflects, "I was such a kid ... I can't believe I was so happy I could've died. I even became a teacher because I idolized him so much ... But at the time, that's as far as things went. He had just had his son, and all he ever talked about was his lovely wife." Unfortunately, this emotionally fraught — at least for Saito — Valentine's chocolate exchange sowed the seeds of something much less innocently self-esteem-enhancing. By the time the two were reunited as fellow faculty members at the same school six years later, Koyanagi's marriage had hit a rough patch. As Saito confesses to her silently munching student Majima, whom she is paying back with dinner for extricating her from an awkward confrontation with Koyanagi in the faculty room, "He was the one who first propositioned me." The two teachers have been having an on and off affair ever since, although Saito is beginning to find her former idol's blithe attitude toward sneaking around and cheating on his wife off-puttingly sordid.A more distantly depicted, less emotionally charged situation involving a "manly" female who inspires Takarazuka-tinged ardor in chocolate-bearing high school girls arises in Momoko Tenzen's The Paradise on the Hill (June/DMP). In this PG-rated male/male romance, the two popular male teachers who are the main characters acknowledge that their own experience of being showered with Valentine's Day chocolate by female students was "intense." However, they were no match in that department for their dashing (heterosexual) female colleague Tsuda-sensei — referred to as "Queen Tsuda" by her adoring admirers. In contrast to the trompe l'oeil "metrosexual" Saito-sensei, whose standard shoujo romantic longings are undermined by her undeniable physical resemblance to a rather dandyish man, the tailored but more conventionally female-looking Tsuda appears to suffer from few doubts about her own attractiveness to men — except when, like her colleague Kijima-sensei, the man in question is already in love with someone of his own sex.
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