After reading Mangasplaining’s great interview with Jun Mayuzuki and hearing a lot about the series, I jumped into the 1st 3 volumes of Kowloon Generic Romance. As someone who’s been to Hong Kong and whose mother lived there for a short while, the series’ grand theme about the persistence of nostalgia does make me think about Hong Kong culture.
The series focuses on a potential romance between two real estate agents who work together in Kowloon Walled City, Hong Kong. Reiko Kujirai and Hajime Kudou both live their daily lives working, eating, and contemplating the status of the dystopian metropolis they live in. What starts off as an interesting romance drama suddenly becomes an ongoing mystery regarding identity and what it means to live as someone who feels strangely out of place, but deserves love as much as anyone.
I won’t go into too much detail about the plot, but I will talk about the area that the manga covers – Hong Kong. I’ve been to Hong Kong twice and I find it to be one of the most interesting places in the planet. I went to Mong Kok Shopping Center for anime goods, walked around Kowloon (the Walled City is not there anymore), saw the Avenue of Stars at Victoria Harbor, ate at Causeway Bay and much more. Before moving to the U.S., my mom lived in Hong Kong for a period of time all while getting help from a friend. Although Mayuzuki hasn’t been to Hong Kong, her recreation of it in Kowloon Generic Romance does make it feel like I’m there – or maybe an old part of Hong Kong that’s trying to fight constant change.
An East Asian island filled with so many people living in tight quarters, all balancing the need to move forward versus taking the time to stop and connect with family and friends. For those who are unaware, Hong Kong was ruled by Great Britain from 1841-1997. From around post-WWII until the 1980s’, Hong Kong found itself and become a thriving country. It has a very interesting mix of East and West aesthetics. While one can argue Japan mixes East and West very well today, Hong Kong was the king of showing the beauty of both sides of the world. The Society for East Asian Anthropology has a wonderful essay about “Old Hong Kong” and the nostalgia for it.
What’s funny is that there’s characters in Kowloon Generic Romance that mention how people in Kowloon have nostalgia for it a la Old Hong Kong vibes. Like it’s the same as love. A while back before reading the manga, I watched a video of a woman who left Hong Kong and she talked about how much it’s changed. One thing from the video that stood out to me was the mention of the Cantonese Chinese dialect (which is widely spoken in Hong Kong) possibly becoming an afterthought compared to Mandarin Chinese (the most popular Chinese dialect and one of the top languages in the world). She said she’s committed to keeping the Cantonese dialect alive in the U.S, where she currently lives, for the Chinese communities there.
There’s a scene in Volume 3 of the manga where an antagonist character laments on how the citizens of Kowloon seem stubborn in promoting their traditions in the face of urban development. They think nostalgia as an emotion that’s annoying. I figure that this character would find the woman I just talked about who’s trying to save Cantonese out of a sense of nostalgia to be annoying. It’s funny because some people might argue “Why study Cantonese? Mandarin is spoken everywhere where Chinese is spoken.” I speak Cantonese conversationally, but I find it to be fun. I have fond memories of interacting with fellow speakers of the dialect. Once upon a time, I made some friends due to learning Cantonese from anime. Speaking Cantonese helped me get closer with my parents as well. Lately, the dialect has helped me come to terms with being a person of Chinese descent.
I think about my fellow Cantonese speakers all over the world. I wonder how they would feel if no one spoke it anymore. Would they fight to keep the dialect alive? Would they just don’t care due to the demands of modernity?
I’ve also thought about what Hong Kong residents felt during the 1980s’ and early 1990s’. I was exposed to so much Hong Kong cinema as a child, which was really popular around that time. Although I didn’t understand the themes beneath the surface due to my age, I got to see how filmmakers expressed their thoughts and views on life in Hong Kong before the big handover to China and shortly after.
Kowloon Generic Romance has taken me back to those films and an appreciation of Hong Kong culture in some way. The manga does remind me of the 1994 Wong Kar-Wai film, Chungking Express. Both are love stories based in Hong Kong featuring individuals struggling with loneliness, finding themselves and learning to cultivate love in a fast-paced world.
I’m nostalgic about many things – especially things from the 1990s’. But when it comes to anime and manga nostalgia, I remembered that I got into anime due to Hong Kong culture. I watched Cantonese dubbed episodes of Dragon Ball Z.
That’s how it all began for me.
Chinatown was my source of video games in the late ‘90s as a teen and everyone selling them spoke Cantonese. It was also a source for Chinese-translated manga when English-translated manga was about to hit its boom. Reading Kowloon Generic Romance made me think about those days of discovering fandom in the Cantonese Chinese community.
It also makes me wonder about my place in the Chinese hierarchy in the future. I already struggle with thoughts about belonging and now with so many Chinese speaking Mandarin as their main dialect, I feel like I’m being phased out. Maybe I’m Reiko Kujirai herself.
I do know that a lot of propaganda use nostalgia for nefarious purposes due to its emotional nature. But I don’t think nostalgia has left me in despair. Some traditions definitely need to pass on to newer generations. Yet I never found myself trying to chase the past to a huge extent. Maybe that’s it. Let nostalgia come naturally. Be like the citizens of Kowloon/Hong Kong and don’t let an entire outside institution define nostalgia for you.
It’s important to have treasured memories that YOU own, good and bad, because they help to cultivate the person you want to be. I appreciate what I have now because of certain nostalgic memories that I personally chose to experience. They unlock our vulnerable selves and tell us that our experiences with our loved ones make life worth living.
That way, nostalgia can help you go forward, whether you want a generic yet satisfying life or a romantic one.
