I've actually avoided talking openly about my love for models until now. When I thought about the content of this series, I hesitated a bit. When I say I make models, I can't help but question whether it's just a hobby of making models, which always lingers in the back of my mind.
The model shop had Gundams, tanks, fighter planes, warships, and trains
This is a story from my elementary school days, but I still clearly remember a conversation I overheard at a local model shop. At that time, I was looking for a plastic model of a German tank from World War II. I was more like browsing than actually searching. With my pocket money back then, Tamiya models weren't something I could easily buy, so it’s more accurate to say I was just looking. There were a few customers in the store (it was a time when model shops were quite lively!), and two older gentlemen were having a calm conversation a little distance away. One of the gentlemen expressed a concern along the lines of, "By making plastic models of warships, tanks, and fighter planes, aren't we instilling a mentality in children that views war positively?" To which the other gentleman replied, "Well, well, models are just a hobby, so that's really overthinking it." I still wonder what context led to that conversation in a model shop, but anyway, it stuck in my ears, and on that day, as an elementary school student who had come to look at tank models, I felt a strange discomfort from that conversation and quietly left the scene. Still, the model shop had Gundams, tanks, fighter planes, and warships lined up. Plus trains, cars, and motorcycles. (These days, there are a lot of figures, right?)
When listing countries with a vibrant model culture, it seems many of them once identified as "empires." For example, in Britain, the popularity of train and ship models seems to stem from their representation of the power of the illustrious British Empire. Recreating the ships of the Royal Navy, which once ruled the seven seas, as intricate models seems to carry a meaning beyond just a hobby. My generation was at an age where we watched "Trainspotting" and got all excited, but wasn't there an elderly alcoholic model ship enthusiast in that movie set in a Britain that felt utterly lost? I feel like there definitely was, but I might be confusing it with a completely different film. Anyway, there’s this elderly alcoholic who holed up in a messy room, constantly building model warships. It seemed painful, clinging to lost glory and not facing his circumstances, but I couldn't help but feel it wasn't entirely someone else's story. (Yeah, I also feel like the movie isn't "Trainspotting." I looked it up a bit, but couldn't find any information about that. But still, I kind of want to watch it again after a long time.)
Well, I feel like there is that aspect to models, but looking at the recent rise of model manufacturers in South Korea and China, the nostalgia for former empires feels like just a fanciful tale. In East Asia, it might resonate more with something like, "Hey, we seem to be pretty handy with our hands."
In the model community, this kind of questioning is often thrown around by some non-model enthusiasts and is likely treated as an unwelcome "accusation." Once that topic comes up, the conversation is over; there's nothing more to discuss with that person. It's just a hobby, so please leave it alone; I don't want anyone probing into my private matters. After all, model enthusiasts aren't that prominent in society, and model shops are dwindling, so they might even be an endangered species. While I think that might be true, as an unbuilt model lover, the conversation I overheard at that model shop still sticks with me like a thorn, lodged somewhere inside.
It's hard to ignore the fact that models seem to have played an important role in education. During the war, it’s said that Japanese elementary schools (back then, they were probably called national schools) had classes where students made wooden model warships. Really? Apparently, there were kits with specially made wooden parts for model warships, which schools purchased in bulk. I apologize for my vague recollection, but when I heard this, I was reminded of a scene from the manga "Barefoot Gen," which directly addresses the atomic bomb and Japan's war responsibility. In that story, the protagonist Gen receives a wooden model warship from a neighbor, but his younger brother is trapped under the rubble of a house during an air raid and dies holding this model. The depiction of this model warship is quite an important scene, but there might have been an underlying premise of making model warships in school. Both Gen and his brother desperately want that well-made model warship and play with it joyfully. The model warship serves as a system to integrate the populace for total war, mobilizing children, especially "boys," into "cool wars." Did every school do this? What was the participation rate? How was it used (teaching methods)? So many questions arise, but when making or holding a model, the emotions that arise in a person can't be summed up with just "it's a hobby," and that's why there were movements to utilize it for "education," which doesn't seem too far off.
Gundam and wartime imaginary weapons
In high school, I encountered discussions surrounding Gundam. A senior criticized, "Gundam glorifies war!" I think this extreme viewpoint came from a high schooler's sense of justice, but having already heard Yoshiyuki Tomino's anti-war statements, I felt a sense of discomfort with my senior's argument. However, considering that the series is essentially a promotional anime for selling plastic models, I could see how the attractive depictions of battle scenes could indeed be a target for criticism. It's often said that the rich setting materials regarding the development systems of imaginary weapons in Gundam (including variations like modified types, old and new types, land-specific or amphibious types, etc.) share a significant similarity with how children during the war enjoyed illustrated explanations of imaginary super weapons published in boys' magazines. The illustrations of imaginary weapons that military boys delighted in directly connect to the "future city illustrations" depicted in post-war children's magazines, and another direct descendant is the setting materials of robot anime like Gundam. I, too, was a huge fan of those kinds of setting material books filled with a certain kind of realism. So, when I hear about the illustrated explanations of imaginary scientific weapons published in wartime boys' magazines, I think, "Ah, if I were a kid back then, I would have definitely been obsessed with it."
Just because I made models of warships or fighter planes doesn't mean I would become a militarist, but I felt that there was something within the emotions generated by models that could inadvertently sprout some kind of "seed." I can understand that making models of "cool" fighter planes, tanks, and warships does evoke some kind of "excitement."
The "important" people playing with toys
The manga "The Great War of Archimedes" by Norifusa Mita, which was also made into a movie, features a genius mathematician who dislikes the military trying to stop the construction of the Yamato by designing it and also designing the Zero fighter. In it, the "important" naval officers are depicted lining up models of warships they plan to build, giggling and saying, "This one is good," "That one is good," which is mocked as "playing with toys." In another scene, military staff are shown giggling while looking at small model warships made for tabletop exercises. I think this theme is quite significant in the work, as it suggests that war may have an undeniable connection to "playing with toys." At the end of playing with toys, one doesn't want to kill or be killed.
Miniatures, in a sense, allow us to enjoy a "god's eye view." During the Meiji period, it seems that panoramas combining battlefield dioramas and photographic projections were already being showcased, and the "god's eye view," which had been monopolized by rulers, became solidly entertaining in the age of the masses. The panorama of the show was soon replaced by moving pictures and eventually evolved into special effects films. The combat scenes created using models in special effects films, which have a certain simplicity and awkwardness, are now being reproduced with overwhelming realism through CGI. CGI is somewhat like a virtual model. And separate from the drama told by the film, we enjoy the combat scenes where the recreated weapons fill the screen. Those intricate and captivating visuals are, like the wartime propaganda films made to boost morale, the images where weapons look "the coolest."
Models as cursed objects
Models may, in a sense, be cursed objects. They can become vessels for repose, harbor chains of resentment, or sometimes nurture an endless longing for power. The models themselves seem to possess a mysterious power that awakens and amplifies something akin to a fundamental life force or the power of curses. The discomfort I felt in elementary school might have been an intuition about this inherent duality that awakens the fundamental nature of models.
And that continues to this day.
Harada