The very first time I saw a young girl sitting in the manga aisle, flipping through Inu Yasha, I was amazed. I couldn’t believe it. A girl! Reading comics! And a “boys” comic, no less!

I stared at her from a distance as though she were a rare creature – a unicorn stepping into the orchard to take a bite of the magic fruit. I approached slowly, cautiously averting my stare as I scanned the manga shelves. The girl flicked her eyes toward me shyly. She seemed embarrassed by my presence and quickly set down the book. The unicorn fled off into the jungle of bookshelves. I wished that I had left her alone. What were the chances of seeing a girl reading manga in a public bookstore again?

Nowadays I curse and grumble as I have to step over a flock of 5 or 6 girls as they sprawl out on the floor, blocking the shelves. They seem unconcerned with the fact that I am a paying customer, trying to browse. The most popular manga are dog-eared, and the titles are strewn out of order.

Okay, so it isn’t as mystical and strange as I used to think it was, but I am happy to see girls drawn to the manga section, reading comics with their friends. I’m sure if manga was this popular when I was a girl, I would be doing the same.

But I can’t help but notice how many of these girls are poring over shounen titles such as Fullmetal Alchemist, Naruto, and Sakura Taisen. And while I can definitely understand the appeal of these titles, and enjoy them myself, I do find it interesting that I don’t see as many girls browsing shoujo titles; at least not in public.

It makes me think about what girls in our society enjoy in terms of story and character, and I wonder if our own culture plays a part in this. I wonder if the messages in shoujo aren’t as strong to Western girls as they are to Japanese girls.

In Japan, the gender roles are far more defined than they are in the West. A Japanese woman, even if she works for a number of years, is generally expected to eventually leave her job to be a mother and wife. It’s true that times are changing for women in Japan, and more and more women are pursuing careers, but there is still a stigma attached to that lifestyle.

Take the josei (older girls’) manga Tramps Like Us by Yayoi Ogawa, originally published as Kimi wa Petto. The whole story revolves around Sumire, a strong, independent woman who wants to pursue her career and is definitely not ready for marriage. As a result, men are reluctant to date her, her bosses are patronizing, and she is lonely – that is, until she adopts the young man, Momo. Sumire’s story shows how a Japanese woman’s choice to be a career woman is a difficult one. While I won’t go so far as to suggest that this manga is representative of an entire cultural view, I think it does reflect some elements of Japanese society.

To a girl reading Tramps Like Us here in the West, Sumire’s choices may not seem that amazing. After all, many girls expect that one day they will be involved in a career, even if they do decide to get married and have children. Many women I know here in the States are a lot like Sumire – proud, outspoken, and intelligent. They balance jobs and families. In some ways, Sumire is a lot like every woman.

But to read Sumire’s story in the context of its country of origin, Sumire is also a hero – a strong woman with ambitions who, despite being ostracized because of them, continues on the path that she chooses for herself. Even when she finds a caring man who does not seem to mind her ambition, she is still reluctant to marry him, as though she is worried she will be trapped – that a piece of her will be lost forever.

The only man she can be herself around is Momo and, even then, she does not look at him as a man, but as a pet. While this scenario is amusing, I think it also hints at Sumire’s fear of trusting men in general. It’s as though she is afraid that if she begins to look at Momo as a man, and not as a dog, he will suddenly have power over her.

I asked my Japanese pen pal if she likes to read manga. She is 25 years old, working as a nurse in Sapporo Hokkaido. She admitted that she doesn’t read much manga now that she is older, but she still has a fondness for Hana Yori Dango, published in the West as “Boys Over Flowers”. She said she likes the fact that the heroine, Tsukushi, is so outspoken and bold, that she doesn’t let anyone bully her around. I began reading it on her recommendation and I could see that Tsukushi was, indeed, unlike most shoujo heroines. She is no wilted flower. Rather, she proudly proclaims herself to be a weed – hard to defeat!

But do themes like this, and the ones found in Tramps Like Us, have as much impact on a female reader in the West? Do Western girls take their positions for granted? I know I have from time to time.

Shoujo has sometimes been criticized for the way that the main characters are fixated on finding boyfriends and true love. Critics claim that shoujo teaches girls that they should only worry about how to get the man of their dreams, and that nothing else is of importance.

But, again, you have to look at it in the context of its country of origin. A female character finding love on her own is a liberating theme. Even today, many marriages in Japan are still arranged. And if the bride-to-be does have more of a say in whom she ends up with, chances are her parents are still very much involved in the process of selecting a husband. In shoujo, the girls always discover love on their own. To a Western reader, a shoujo character’s actions may come off as pining and starry-eyed, but they are truly acting independently – learning love and heartbreak on their own. It’s also curious to note that parents are rarely involved in a shoujo story, unless it is to prevent the girl from seeing the boy she loves. In Peach Girl, which spanned 18 volumes, you rarely saw the main character’s mother and father. Many times, parents are depicted as almost faceless, or at best, very generic. This puts the focus on the living, breathing heroine, full of emotion and hopes and dreams, as well as on the choices she makes.

Girls in the West may have it good, but perhaps our inability to appreciate what we have makes it harder for us to be fully affected by the themes in shoujo?

Or, as I watch girls flip through the pages of One Piece, maybe they just like a good pirate story?