Somehow, it’s already been two years since Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid first aired. Recently, there has even been talk of a second season.
Besides the easy pleasure of watching this lighthearted comedy, I’ve had a few thoughts and picked out a few details. On its second anniversary, I offer them to fellow admirers of the series.
1. Life Is Short—I Use Python!
Chinese subtitle, translated: “Kobayashi’s been much more cheerful lately.”
You’ve probably noticed that Kobayashi works as a programmer—at an IT company, perhaps? If I remember correctly, the anime gives us one shot of her code and another of code a colleague hands her to check. In the scrolling on-screen comments, viewers cried excitedly: “Python!” Some were even ready to start a war over which programming language was best.
Python is an interpreted, object-oriented, dynamically typed programming language. Its ease of learning for beginners and the relatively few lines of code it requires have helped make it one of the popular languages of recent years. The colleague’s code in the second image resembles an open-source project, but I’ll leave that as an Easter egg rather than dig any further—haha.
2. What Does a Woman Programmer Wear?
Society has stereotypes about programmers’ dress sense and taste. (Outrage!)
Let Kobayashi, our woman programmer, shatter that tiresome myth…!1
Unlike the dragon maid, whose year-round maid uniform emphasizes her maid persona, or Kanna, who is a child, Kobayashi, our exemplary woman programmer, appears in at least the twelve outfits I’ve gathered here from the anime. (See also the image below.)
First, we can distinguish her indoor casual wear from what she wears out. The yellow long-sleeved top, second from the left in the second collage, doesn’t seem to appear outside her home. For going out, she mostly wears T-shirts and the pale-blue long-sleeved shirt at the far left of that collage.
Then there is the distinction between workwear and everyday clothes. As an exemplary working adult—emphasis on exemplary—Kobayashi wears a formal suit to work, as seen fourth from the left in the second collage. She takes off the black jacket, but not her tie while at the office—no plaid shirt. Besides T-shirts and long-sleeved shirts, another frequent choice for everyday wear is a plain light-green hoodie, shown in the middle of the second collage. No busy, multicolored designs: a solid color looks simple without sacrificing style, making it a safe, versatile choice.
Next, we can trace the changing seasons. In winter, Kobayashi adds a tawny coat to her casual wardrobe, fourth from the left in the first collage; over her suit, she wears a duffle coat and scarf, as pictured above. A duffle coat is a godsend in autumn, winter, and early spring: warm, but still good for a layered look. It works for everyone from high-school girls to corporate slaves. You might consider one yourselves as an alternative to a down jacket.
Finally, although our original purpose was to protest stereotypes about programmers’ dress sense—women programmers included (pay attention!)—attentive readers may have noticed something during this tour: Kobayashi never wears skirts in the anime. At least, I haven’t spotted any; even if there are exceptions, we can safely say they are very rare. Why is that? Looking more closely, we find that her clothes, though appropriate, attractive, and varied, tend more toward the masculine. That is, they place little emphasis on the markers of femininity associated with “moe” and “cuteness.” There are no sexy short skirts, not even elegant long ones. Add her short hair and flat chest, and we begin to understand all those joking on-screen comments: “Isn’t Kobayashi the male lead?”
Yes, Kobayashi may really be the “male lead.”
3. An Independent Woman: Kobayashi, or the Nuclear Family’s Symbolic Father
Let’s think about Kobayashi’s backstory. If I remember correctly, she is a single office worker who came from “the provinces,” passed the entrance exams for a university in Tokyo, and now works in the city, living in a modern apartment. My first impression, then, is of an independent woman. Add the common impression that women are scarce in computer science—or in programming as a profession—and we can say that Kobayashi was never conceived as the delicate, cute type, but as someone spirited and strong.
Chinese subtitle, translated: “You’re a hero, Tsuzaki! A hero!”
We could put it this way: through her own efforts, Kobayashi has gained a foothold in a cruel society and a fiercely competitive industry, even becoming a widely trusted “mainstay” among her colleagues. That is genuinely admirable. Yet even someone as strong as Kobayashi has her hardships: far from home, alone in her private life, and putting up with her boss’s mistreatment.
Chinese subtitle, translated: “Why am I all alone?”
Chinese subtitle, translated: “What is all this crap? They even make me fix tiny problems like that!”
Now it isn’t hard to understand why so little of Kobayashi’s clothing has a cute style: she is not the delicate, dependent type. Strong and rather quiet, she is trusted for her competence at work and pours out her grievances after a few drinks. In Kobayashi we see countless young people supporting themselves and struggling to make their own way in the big city.
Why, then, do I also call Kobayashi a symbolic “father”? A moment’s thought makes it clear:
Chinese subtitle, translated: “Rain, rain, rain! Rain, rain, rain!”
Chinese subtitle, translated: “Kanna wants to buy a mechanical pencil.”
The arrival of the dragon maid and Kanna fills the symbolic positions of mother and child, respectively, in the nuclear family. Nor are these ordinary “children”: Tohru and Kanna are dragons from another world, knowing virtually nothing of human social norms and initially not even intending to observe them. Together, Kobayashi and the two dragons form the image of a harmonious family. Kobayashi has struggled to make her way in society and achieved a measure of success; she also knows all too well the frustrations of social life. In the anime, she often teaches the two dragons how to get along with their friends on the shopping street, their neighbors, and their classmates. From the perspective of cultural sociology in the wake of structuralism, she of course fits the role of a “father”—or, one might say, an educator with authority—passing on to Tohru and Kanna an understanding of the human order, with its pains and joys.
4. Redemption and Hope for Dragons and Humans
Before the dragon maid and Kanna arrived, Kobayashi was alone, drinking to drown her sorrows only to deepen them. Then two cute, magical dragons who love staying close to her burst into her life, and “Kobayashi’s been much more cheerful lately,” as the first code screenshot tells us. Her social connections outside work have grown; she has even gained a warm family. Of course, we should point out that this change is not simply a gift dropped from the sky. It comes from a chemical reaction between the two dragons and the strong yet gentle Kobayashi. Her colleagues already trusted her—otherwise she wouldn’t have received so many chocolates.
Chinese subtitle, translated: “Me too”—three times.
Chinese subtitle, translated: “Mine too. Please take them, if you’d like.”
Kobayashi draws further strength from genuine companions. This is genuine emotional exchange between people and “people,” not a relationship between a master—or a maid enthusiast—and a dragon maid. She is no longer alone. With Tohru and Kanna’s companionship and help, she holds on to a small, warm corner of her own and a little light amid the metropolis’s glittering nightlife.
Now let’s look at Tohru, the dragon maid. Before she met Kobayashi, she was lonely and unfree:
Chinese subtitle, translated: “But I felt lonely, and unfree as well.”
Why lonely? Let me venture a guess: dragons are powerful and live without rules, and so they live alone, seldom having a heart-to-heart with other dragons. Why unfree? She has no choice. Born a dragon—though she is not sorry about it—she is destined for this loneliness. She is unlike the little thief, who, though born poor and lowly, at least has the freedom to choose between “two paths: being a thief or being a slave.” No choice: she is destined for the powerful, lonely life dragons have always had to live. Even though she can fly all over the world, this can still be called unfreedom.
Chinese subtitle, translated: “Because I only had two paths in life: become a slave or become a thief.”
After meeting Kobayashi, Tohru has the freedom to choose: she can join Kobayashi’s family and be bound by human social norms, or return to the dragons’ world. It is not that she has never struggled with the choice or thought it over, especially after encountering some of humanity’s darker side. But after reflection, she chooses to stay with Kobayashi. The dragon maid is a maid, but of course she is not a maid. As an equal member of the family, she receives the care of an ethical community—the family—and finds a kind of redemption. In this corner of Tokyo, the three people (dragons) have all found a place of their own.
I hope this essay helps readers who love Dragon Maid find more reasons to love it. These are only my humble reflections; I’ll leave it here.