Osamu Tezuka Manga Museum

Yesterday, enroute from Kyoto to Osaka, I made a detour to Takarazuka, the home town of Osamu Tezuka, the Don Corleone of manga. There is a museum in honor of his life's work, and the street just in front of it is named after him.


If you aren't familiar with Tezuka, surely you know of his best known creation, Astro Boy (The original Japanese name is Mighty Atom). I don't consider Astro Boy to be Tezuka's deepest work; it was aimed primarily for a younger audience, while many of his stories are much darker and mature in content. But if there is one creation in the world of popular comics and animation that I wish I could take credit for, it is Astro Boy. I've always identified with the tale of a young robot created to replace a powerful man's deceased son, who is then unwanted and cast out into the world, as the perfect metaphor for how I sometimes feel—itinerant, without a home, unable to fit in to society, yet eager to contribute what abilities I have and do something for the greater good of humanity.

On a side note, I believe that Astro Boy is the basis for the film Artificial Intelligence, however, I haven't found any formal acknowledgement of this. Similarly, it was rumored that The Lion King also borrowed much from Tezuka's Kimba the White Lion without giving credit.





On the first floor, they have capsules that contain mementos of Tezuka's early life, including some of his drawing and painting studies.


This timeline charts Tezuka's many works over his life. It was simply astonishing to see how much he was able to do in his lifetime. He was constantly working on several comics, cartoons and films at once. Talk about a multi-tasker!




In the lower level, there is an animation workshop. A statue of Tezuka sits at the front of the hall that turns around once in a while, but wouldn't turn around for me.



The temporary exhibition on the second floor featured original pages from several of his comics. It was very informative to see many mistakes he made while drawing the pages. They were cluttered with mistakes—whiteout, glued over sections, blue pencil lines. Reading the finished product, you tend to think his draftsmanship is flawless. It is encouraging to know that even a master such as Tezuka is not perfect.




But perhaps the moment that made the deepest impression on me that day came after I left the museum. As I was walking down the street back to the train station, I passed by an older woman who had a giant tumor hanging from the right side of her forehead. It was so big it covered the entire right side of her face, and swayed from side to side as she walked. She was a very small lady, considerably shorter than me, perhaps in her 50s or so. It was painful just to look at her. She was obviously going about her daily life, but the tumor was impossible to hide and I could see the tremendous burden written on the visible side of her face. I could only imagine how difficult it must be just to bear the shame of having to live with that. It was a striking reminder how lucky I am just to be alive and healthy, and that I must use my life to do something for those of us who are not as fortunate.

It's perhaps a strange coincidence, but I couldn't help remembering that one of Tezuka's characters, Pinoko from the manga Black Jack, is actually a giant tumor that was given a mechanical body. Tezuka studied medicine and aspired to be a doctor before he dedicated his life to telling stories through manga.