An Update, A Blog Post About Ability, and A Task Set Forth by He Who Has Blazing Hair

A lot of my blog posts about ability have been rather formal (as I’m sure you may realize.) I want to broaden the spread of characters and topics on which I write. In time I may revisit what I say in these shorter posts with more formal posts (as in, actual works cited to the surprise of everyone). Writing short posts helps me explore ideas without feeling pressured to formally defend them. I can then focus on creativity more than strictly the strength of the argument and the content. Besides, following the same structure can be boring. If I feel I have something more detailed to say, then I’ll write an additional piece. I have decided to mix an update with a short blog post. I’m expressing solidarity with a friend who is trying to write a post every day this year. (See: Let’s Talk about KyoAni’s Next Project).

Today I wanted to talk about subtler aspects of physical disability. In particular, I wanted to talk about the seemingly gray case of whether physical frailty is disability. You can see my Learning Guide on disability for a better breakdown of these nuances. I want to focus on Latifa-sama from Amagi Brilliant Park and Nagisa from Clannad. 

 Figure 1. Latifa (left) as presented in Episode 1 of Amagi Brilliant Park.

Figure 2. Nagisa from the Clannad series.

Why? Put simply, both characters are quite frail. Though they seem to fall out of the norm for physical ability for different reasons, both characters fit into similar circumstances. Both are frequently shown as bedridden or suddenly collapsing; both occasionally require physical support from other characters. Being “frail” is not itself a disability, at least not by any medical definition. Frailty becomes a disability when it fundamentally changes an individual’s life. My post on disability details what I consider to be a disability, if you’re interested in more details. The point is, Latifa and Nagisa are both depicted as struggling as a result of their respective conditions. Many terminally ill characters – the category in which I am placing these two characters – reinforce the barriers faced by people with disabilities while not offering a human characterization; these representations then are usually disempowering and usually not interesting characters either. These characters are then usually reduced to victimhood, whether they are implicitly or explicitly portrayed as such. Fiona, Dio’s little sister in the Sunrise mecha show Buddy Complex, uses a wheelchair, for example. Her wheelchair defines her character. She plays little role in the plot (if Buddy Complex actually had one) and is only shown in scenes that focus mainly on other characters. She’s a minor character but her role as the “disabled person” confines her mainly to stereotypes projected onto people with disabilities. Fiona is generically happy but helpless, which is a common trope involving people with disabilities. Of course, they cannot resent their condition or view it in a more complex manner; nor can they help themselves because being different means you’re incapable of anything. At least, that’s what these characterizations tend to suggest. Bedridden characters are usually shown in a similar manner.  

Nagisa and Latifa, as I’m sure the reader has decided I believe, deviate from this ability-centric trope. In their respective roles – Nagisa aspiring to her dreams of becoming a mother among other things and Latifa being princess of the Amagi Brilliant Park amusement park – both characters, despite very real chances of failure, are steadfast. In the end, both characters are able to achieve their goals on their own terms. Most importantly, though Nagisa and Latifa do rely on other characters – physically and emotionally – they are very clearly agents of their own destiny (outcome, fate, whatever you want to call it). This fact comes clearly from their emotional investment in their individual journeys; for example, Nagisa and Latifa are both shown on the verge of tears or with a strikingly lachrymose expression when beset with struggles. The characters take steps to overcome their own pain and troubles to follow their individual paths. That is why I think that both Nagisa and Latifa are empowering characters, especially because of how their differently abled bodies interacts with the worlds in which they live. I don’t want to make this a PSA but portraying disability in this manner is much more empowering than showing characters ensnared by the ability- related barriers. I much prefer Nagisa and Latifa to Fiona for this reason (not to mention Fiona is given practically no characterization). This task goes beyond mere social justice and towards creating interesting and compelling characters from which the viewer can learn. Understanding these nuances helps create better characters and better art.

With apologies to a particular friend who will be offended by both the brevity and the lack of works cited or formal research done.