Keio University

【Kunihiko Hisa's Manga Anything Theater (Special Edition)】Non-essential and Non-urgent

Published: September 08, 2020

Writer Profile

  • Kunihiko Hisa

    Manga Artist

    Keio University alumni

    Kunihiko Hisa

    Manga Artist

    Keio University alumni

2020/09/08

Recently, thanks to COVID-19, the phrase "non-essential and non-urgent" has been flying around everywhere. "Is that outing not non-essential and non-urgent?" "Please refrain from non-essential and non-urgent outings." "Is that meeting not non-essential and non-urgent?" "Is that shopping trip not non-essential and non-urgent?" The value standards for all sorts of things have come to be measured by the yardstick of "non-essential and non-urgent."

"Non-essential and non-urgent" basically means something you don't have to rush to do right now, something that can be put off until later. While I was thinking about this, the government issued a state of emergency and provided examples of what constitutes "non-essential and non-urgent." They said, in principle, people gathering is prohibited. Food departments in the basements of department stores are necessary, so please stay open. However, we ask the main department store buildings to voluntarily close. That sort of thing. Bookstores are fine, but second-hand bookstores should close; super sento (large public baths) and saunas should close, but regular sento are necessary for public hygiene, so please stay open. Live music venues, movie theaters, theaters, yose (vaudeville theaters), sports matches, concerts, exhibitions, theme parks, and various other events where people might gather were all asked to close. Schools were also deemed non-essential and non-urgent, so they closed. Public facilities like libraries, museums, art galleries, zoos, and aquariums also shut down. "Please do not take non-essential and non-urgent trips," "Refrain from commuting and telework if you can"—thanks to these notices, social life changed completely.

First of all, commuter trains became truly empty. I was shocked at just how much "non-essential and non-urgent" commuting there had been. Pachinko parlors and restaurants like izakayas voluntarily closed. Bookstores were supposed to be okay, but department stores and station buildings housing large bookstores all closed, so they stopped operating. Mass retailers like Yodobashi Camera and Bic Camera also closed. It turned into a strange town where almost every shop except grocery stores was closed.

Now, what kind of changes did this life of non-essential and non-urgent self-restraint bring to the life of a manga artist, who is originally a shut-in with a lot of work at home? Or rather, for the first time, I could see the life I usually lived without any particular awareness. I realized that even though I tended to be a shut-in, I actually went out quite a bit for various reasons. Judging art, award ceremonies, talks at libraries, meetings for an African support group I help with at an NGO, councils for several organizations where I serve as a trustee, regular meetings for hobby groups, business meetings, dinners... plus exhibitions, friends' solo shows, movies, and events—there were endless little errands, and I was going out quite a bit. I also go to get blood pressure medication and visit the dentist. In such a schedule, the only things that weren't "non-essential and non-urgent" were probably the blood pressure medicine and the dental treatment.

Then, in an atmosphere where everything was deemed non-essential and non-urgent and all gatherings were to be avoided, almost all my plans disappeared, and I literally became a shut-in. Apparently, if you just look at documents at home, stamp them with your seal, and send them back, it counts as having a meeting. Even for small meetings or discussions, the "non-essential and non-urgent" time I used to spend—dropping by a bookstore while I was out, looking for stationery, peeking into a plastic model shop, or watching a movie if I had time—all of it vanished.

On the other hand, we live in an era where people say, "If you want books or plastic models, just buy them on Amazon," or "If you want to watch a movie, you can watch anything on streaming services instead of going to a theater." Certainly, for pinpointing and buying books or models you already know about, Amazon and Yahoo are perfect. They deliver quickly, and for a generation that knows the inconvenience of ordering old books in the past, it's a miracle of speed. Even with movies, though it's different from the big screen, you can watch anything. In fact, I watched so many movies during this period of self-restraint. Re-watching movies I saw in theaters long ago at home was deeply moving in many ways. As part of the generation that received the baptism of American films after the war, Westerns were particularly interesting. The sense of the era in the scripts and settings was incredibly discriminatory toward Native Americans, yet conversely, the visuals sometimes treated Native American culture with care—the inconsistency was indescribable. The development of the American West after the Civil War is a story of white people with guns pioneering ownerless land as if they owned it; you can feel through your skin that American Indians were seen as nothing more than obstacles living in the wilderness, like coyotes, wolves, or buffalo. Watching movies online was a new discovery because you can search for countless films that aren't playing in theaters. However, I didn't realize at the time that this new discovery would lead to a lack of exercise and cause the so-called "Corona weight gain." The COVID-19 crisis reaches into unexpected places.

Reading the books that had piled up or looking at the contents of the mountain of plastic model boxes was fun at first, but it lacks stimulation. The excitement of encountering something unknown is scarce. It seems a large part of that excitement is consumed when buying the book or the model. It was especially painful not being able to peek into second-hand bookstores, stationery shops, or antique shops. I realized that the things I find fun and interesting are, in the end, all categorized as "non-essential and non-urgent." The things the government calls non-essential and non-urgent—sightseeing trips, theater, parties, sports, concerts—are all the fun things. People gather where there is fun. This is just like the wartime self-restraint of "Luxury is the enemy," "We won't want anything until we win," and "Let's stop getting perms." Moreover, a nasty atmosphere has begun to fill the air, with "self-restraint police" appearing and applying peer pressure.

Even if I go to the dentist because it's not "non-essential and non-urgent," if everything around is closed and I can't peek into a bookstore, stationery shop, or soba shop, then I've just had a painful time with my teeth, and the day ends in sadness. This request for self-restraint made me realize how much these "non-essential and non-urgent" things are necessary for our lives, providing moisture and the joy of living. I want a society where it is natural to be able to go anywhere freely and meet people. No matter how many movies I can watch on video, it would be a huge shock if, once the self-restraint ends, the movie theaters, restaurants, second-hand bookstores, and plastic model shops have all gone out of business. If the government is going to request self-restraint for this kind of culture, I want them to compensate it properly and cherish it. These were my thoughts during the days of the COVID-19 crisis, wishing for such a country.

*Affiliations and titles are as of the time of publication.