Fictosexualism and Contracts
The story focused on, Akihiko Kondo, a 38-year-old man who staged a marriage with Hatsune Miku (featured in the image at right), a “turquoise-haired, computer-synthesized pop singer,” whose image has adorned tricked-out motorcycles and race cars. The Times story features Mr. Kondo in multiple pictures with a life-sized doll of Hatsune Miku, as well as his apartment, in which he keeps a collection of Hatsune Miku dolls and plush toys.
Mr. Kondo credits his love for this fictional character with pulling him out of a depression induced by bullying that he experienced at work in 2008. He makes a strong case for the advantages of fictional beloveds: “She’s always there for him, she’ll never betray him, and he’ll never have to see her get ill or die.”
For women who become fictosexual, there are numerous appeals. There is a community of people who love particular characters, and according to Agnès Giard, a researcher at the University of Paris Nanterre, quoted in the Times article, fictional marriages can be an empowering “way to challenge gender, matrimonial and social norms.”
Contracts make all such things possible. In Tokyo, two districts have developed that cater to the needs of the fictosexual community. As The Times explains
Fans can buy love letters from their crushes, reproductions of their clothes and even scents meant to evoke their presence. Hotels offer special packages, featuring spa treatments and elaborate meals, for people celebrating their favorite character’s birthday. And on social media, people post photos, art and mash notes promoting their “oshi” — a term widely used by Japanese fans to describe the objects of their affection.
In short, this is a specialized, but highly-developed market. It illustrates a feature of contracts that attracts and repels. Contracts law, outside of the illegality and the more nebulous realm of public policy, does not judge. The common law of contracts eschews punitive damages because, as Judge Posner admonishes in trochaic pentameter, “Let Us Never Blame a Contract Breaker.” If people want to maximize their happiness, contracts law comes along and says, “How can I be of service?”
Mr. Kondo invited friends and co-workers to his wedding ceremony. All declined to attend, but 39 people, “largely strangers and online friends” showed up. Some object that, under the Japanese constitution, marriage requires the consent of both parties, and a fictional character cannot give consent. Mr. Kondo takes this objection seriously enough that he posted a video of his marriage proposal on Twitter. I don’t speak or read Japanese, but the Twitter translation and her body language suggest that she is content.
While the humans who fall in love with fictional characters develop genuine emotional attachments, the Times article does not explore the one-sidedness of the relationship, aside from a passing statement of one fictosexual man, who misses “being touched.” I wonder what thoughts would come to mind if one presented fictosexuals with Auden’s The More Loving One, in which he ruminates on his one-sided love of the starry heavens. They might find that they agree with Auden’s argument that on earth,
. . . indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.
And conclude that
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.
The wonderful thing about the poem, and why I replay it endlessly in my head, is its undecideability. Auden opens up a universe of thought and resolves nothing. In that space, one can think about the possibilities and limitations of fictosexual love.