Sunday, 13 April 2025

SERIES: Potentially Contrarian Ideas - Miyazaki wouldn't care

I think Hayao Miyazaki would not be too worried about ChatGPT’s Ghiblification trend. It’s mostly those who are unable to create something like Miyazaki who seem to be obsessing over and ranting about copyright infringement.

Yes, he was horrified back in 2016 when he saw what AI animation produced and called it “an insult to life.” But if I understand him right, he was saying that AI would never be able to create what he can — and that he would never incorporate it into his work. And he’s right.

All AI is doing is mimicking. And while some of the results are charming — especially considering they often take less than five minutes of effort — they aren’t doing anything truly original.

And let’s be honest: the trend is literally called Ghiblification.

Even if it does produce something original, are we really arguing that artists don’t learn from existing works? Are we suggesting that if a machine does it, it’s somehow more of an infringement than if a human artist had done the same?

Are we going to ask artists to use only natural paint, which takes years to produce, instead of the incredible synthetic paints we have now?
Are we going to say that artists shouldn’t use MS Paint just because it allows things to be created faster than with watercolours?
Are we going to tell advertisers and filmmakers not to create themes inspired by popular films?
Are we going to instruct storytellers to avoid the Hero’s Journey as a structure?

It borders on the absurd.

Leonard Read already explained the modern world through I, Pencil. AI is just the next new tool humanity has discovered.

Yes, some claim AI might be the last invention of humanity. But I, for one, remain skeptical.
We shouldn’t confuse a fad with a trend. Artists will experiment with this, the market will react, and once it commodifies, new forms will need to emerge — forms that strike a chord, like Spirited Away once did. AI won’t be creating that. At least not without a prompt from a human.

Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli had a clear passion for their craft. AI today cannot mimic that.

What we’re witnessing is not just a copyright issue. It’s the age-old tension between new tools and existing power structures.
The real concern shouldn’t be mimicry — it should be about the concentration of these capabilities in the hands of anti-competitive forces.
It’s regulation and intellectual monopolies that risk stifling creativity.

On a side note, to understand better Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli's potential views, I am reading Sharing a House with the Never-Ending Man by Steve Alpert. A book by one of the few foreigners (gaijin) who spent years working with Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli. I haven’t finished the book, but in the introduction I find this text below:

Studio Ghibli's films have influenced and inspired both animated and live-action filmmakers worldwide. Reflections and versions of images originally created by Hayao Miyazaki can be found in the films of well-known independent and Hollywood motion picture directors, including some major box office hits. Hayao Miyazaki has been called the Walt Disney and the Steven Spielberg of Japanese film. His influence on other filmmakers has been enormous.

Craft is about learning from the best.

And in some ways, this Ghiblification trend is a kind of homage to Miyazaki’s passion.

It’s not going to derail his creative output.

Owaranai Hito, the Japanese title of the book, translates to “The Man Who Is Never Finished.”

I will return and update my views if the book reveals otherwise 

Sunday, 6 April 2025

BOOK NOTE - A Gentleman in Moscow - Amor Towles


I was introduced to Amor Towles’ books via James Altucher’s podcast with him. Amor and James discussed the writing process and particularly about creating memorable characters. I found A Gentleman in Moscow to be one of the best books I have read in recent times. Towles’ writing style is smart and witty, but also profound. You can know from the way the stories and characters interact and intersect that they are crafted with great care. And while the story builds slowly after an amazing start, it is a pleasure to read and leads up to a great crescendo and climax.


A Gentleman in Moscow is set in the early 1900s in post-Imperial Russia. It is in that unique time set soon after the Bolshevik revolution, where the true horrors of Communism and of Stalin are yet to happen, excepting off-screen. Us readers know about it, but the characters are unaware. They must find out as the story progresses. But the book’s style is not very crass to get into the horrors and describe them. It is only through the mood that we ever come across it.


The setting—the magnificent Metropol Hotel in Moscow—is as much a character as any of the human protagonists. And through the characters and the changes that happen to them, we see the golden age of Russia descend—initially into a sense of euphoria and then into the despair that Communism brings.


Along with the Metropol, Count Rostov is a perfect protagonist to show this transition. An erudite aristocrat, he knows the glories of the golden Imperial age. But he is not an out-of-touch aristocrat. He embodies what Kipling says in the famous poem If,


If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much


He is the Metropol in human form, and the hotel is him as an institution.


Amor Towles has mentioned in his interview that he is not a Russologist, but the book is an amazing exploration of Russia and the divided classes in Russia of that time. What is even more fascinating is that he talks about how his writing style is not direct research-driven.


“Rather than pursuing research-driven projects, I like to write from areas of existing fascination,” he says on his website. “…I chose to write A Gentleman in Moscow because of my longstanding fascination with Russian literature, culture, and history. Most of the texture of the novel springs from the marriage of my imagination with that interest.”


As a book which captures a long period of time, and at the same time is a book of mystery and intrigue, getting the pacing right is very important. I alluded earlier that the book starts off great, but then slows down before ratcheting up the pace and a crescendo towards climax. Without giving any spoilers, this is achieved through a unique accordion style of time expansion and contraction, which is very unique to any books I have read. Towles observes how this reflects how we remember our lives as well –


While odd, this accordion structure seems to suit the story well, as we get a very granular description of the early days of confinement; then we leap across time through eras defined by career, parenthood, and changes in the political landscape; and finally, we get a reversion to urgent granularity as we approach the denouement. As an aside, I think this is very true to life, in that we remember so many events of a single year in our early adulthood, but then suddenly remember an entire decade as a phase of our career or of our lives as parents.

Some amazing life observations that have stayed with me from the book are:

“Arriving late, what a delicacy of youth”
The Count observes how it is stylish and acceptable when young people arrive late or in-between things. This is part of growing up, and even stylish. But soon fades when in middle age and the focus of lives becomes more monotonous. It made me reflect about how we lose part of our youth when we become too rigid in our ways.


“The surest sign of wisdom was constant cheerfulness – Michel de Montaigne”


The Count and the Metropol in some ways are embodiments of this maxim. They survive and even thrive by finding joy in the toughest of times. Wisdom is being able to get what you want, despite the circumstances.


In terms of historical fiction, A Gentleman in Moscow does a great job of reflecting the sense of the times. And for those interested in the strange time of transition, in one of the most radical shifts in human history—from Imperial grandeur to Bolshevik commanding heights—it is a must-read.


A masterpiece in capturing the romance of the golden age as it slips through our collective hands.