Iwa ni Hana

A few months ago, I was scouted by a talent agency. It was during lunchtime in the office district. I went out to buy lunch and put on my MP3 player to listen to some language learning podcast as usual. Suddenly a man who looked as though he had already followed me for some distance touched me in the shoulder (because I did not hear not him) and introduced himself as a talent manager. After apologizing profusely, he gave me his business card and asked for my number. At first I thought this might be some sort of scam but he seemed to say nothing too exceedingly flattering about me (as I would expect from a scam). I gave him my business card.

He called several times afterwards to persuade me to take comp photos and sign up for a contract with his agency. After thinking about the consequences this may bring, I turned it down – mainly because of all the conflicts I can foresee with my existing career, but more importantly I think I have never been blessed with what the Chinese call tao hua yun [桃花運] to be successful in the entertainment industry.

Tao hua means “peach blossom” and yun means “luck”. On a mild scale, people with tao hua yun are well-liked wherever they go, especially by the opposite sex. This is quite irrespective of how good or bad they are or how they treat others. On the extreme end, people with tao hua yun are like sex magnets. A man who is well-endowed tao hua yun would inspire women to want to have his babies or something from the first moment they see him. Chinese astrologers traditionally see tao hua yun as a negative quality because of all the irrational impulses it might bring to disturb society’s order, but in modern times they seem to have come to regard this as a positive quality for popstars, musicians and the like to have, because tao hua yun may be a contributing factor to gaining adoring fans. On a tangential note, tao hua jie [桃花劫] describes the sort of love that leaves you ruined, typically in being fleeced of your life’s savings or being left with a mountain of debts. I believe the English word “lovefraud” which I saw coined here would be a close equivalent.

With this in mind, I was quite amused by the philosophy propounded by Lory, the fictional boss of the talent agency L.M.E.. in the shoujo manga series Skip Beat!.

Skip Beat! is a tale to the simple and a word to the wise – it is very much a show-not-tell story in the sense that its interesting ideas are brought out through the storyline (“show”) instead of preached (“tell”). In the story, Lory believes that a talent cannot get far in the entertainment business without genuine love. Kyouko (the heroine), having been betrayed and fleeced in a bad way by her first love (I believe it could be called a case of tao hua jie), lost the desire to love others and be loved by others, and though she performed well at her audition, she was let go because she was perceived to be lacking in love. Later, she was given a second chance in being placed in the “Love-Me section”, where promising talents lacking love are placed to earn points from other L.M.E. employees in a system whereby they are rewarded for doing the (mostly odious) jobs given to them with whole-hearted love. Kyouko, being a persevering and hardworking girl, succeeds in that with flying colours.

In a way, this falls squarely in line with the Japanese obsession that you can surmount any obstacle if you try hard enough – or ganbaru [頑張る]. Lory seems to believe that this principle applies even when it comes to a subjective and irrational thing as loving and being loved – that it is something you can work at until you succeed. He does not look for new talents who are simply born with tao hua yun.

However you may look at it, anime, manga and games are all built on this obsession with ganbaru. Even with dating simulation games like HaruToki, you gain points just for hanging out with the male character you are targeting. The important thing is that you try, and spend time trying, until you succeed. Ganbaru disregards inborn talents, natural dispositions or individualities. It is a one-size-fit-all, succeed-or-fail approach. In this worldview, human effort or ganbaru is a match to Fate.

The Chinese obsession is just the opposite. It believes that it is easier to move mountains than to change a person’s natural disposition – the saying that captures this belief is jiang shan yi gai ben xing nan yi [江山易改 本性難移]. It believes that an individual’s course of life is decided by who he was when he was three years old – or san sui ding ba shi [三歲定八十]. In this worldview, no human effort is ever quite a match to Fate. The important thing is to learn a child’s strengths or inclinations early and focus on those. This may seem to be the more humane model until you realize once those strengths or inclinations are discovered, you are expected to be nothing sort of the best in the relevant fields. Just look at Chinese athletes at the 2008 Bejing Olympic Games – the only “good enough” metal was the gold metal. Just look at the way the typical Chinese child who gets As is told by its typical Chinese parents to get A+ next time.

Anyway, as I was saying, I don’t think I have any tao hua yun. (Though I think I do have what is called chang pei yuan [長輩緣], or the uncanny luck or ability that inspires good faith in any senior figure, such as a teacher at school or a superior at work. I have a large store of this and am always in the safe orbit of protective elders who are keen to impart skills, knowledge or insight to me. I make lunch buddies of people twice my age with no effort. I never have that sort of luck or ability at all with my own peers.)