Doraemon was a regular TV show in my childhood. In my memory, this series of animated shows seemed endless, always playing. I never even watched the first episode and have no idea how Doraemon first joined Nobita's family. But I got used to it pulling out magical gadgets from its four-dimensional pocket in every episode and it made made me cheer. The recurring theme of introducing a new gadget in almost every episode is definitely one of Doraemon's secrets to its enduring popularity.
Many years later, after I lost the privileges to summer vacations and the chance to watch cartoons on TV, I started to feel nostalgic and realized that Doraemon is much more special than other animated characters that accompanied us during our growing years.
Actually, Doraemon is the only non-human character among the 25 “Asian Heroes” chosen by TIME magazine in 2002 to represent Asian identity. It was recognized for inspiring an entire Asia continent with its endless optimism.
This is certainly the universal feeling Doraemon brings to everyone, butthe experience of each generation may still vary. At the time, I didn't realize that for someone like me from Gen Z (born between 1995 and 2009), Doraemon was almost a universal hero, playing nearly every role in the family.
It was far more than just a friend or playmate; it served as a substitute for the absent father (you rarely see Nobita's dad in the show, as he's always coming and going with a briefcase), and it also complemented the mother, who often focuses more on basic needs than mental health of their children(though we still appreciated her always having dorayaki ready for us). And for those of us who became an only child due to the national Population and Family Planning policy, Doraemon represented the siblings we longed to grow up with.
This is the uniqueness of Doraemon for Asian children. Through the show, you can catch a glimpse of the common social and family structures in Japan and East Asia, especially the “widow-style parenting” where fathers are often (suspiciously) absent due to work, leaving the stay-at-home mothers to shoulder the entire burden of caring for the household and children. Under this immense pressure, it's already quite an achievement for mothers to take care of their children's daily lives and material needs, let alone attend to their emotional well-being. But what about the children's true situation? Loneliness. Endless loneliness. It's hard to deny that Doraemon came at a time when families needed it the most.
You can hardly find a more perfect guardian. On one hand, it goes to great lengths to fulfill a child's most innocent desires; as soon as Nobita pouts and shouts, “Doraemon!”, it reaches into its round pocket and pulls out a variety of futuristic gadgets to help him through tough times: bamboo-copter, time machine, anywhere door, Cupid's arrow, memory bread, the if-phone booth... On the other hand, it constantly reminds Nobita of the pitfalls of technology and the potential disasters it can cause, as well as the importance of developing and utilizing his own abilities.
In fact, Doraemon was originally a parenting robot. The 1995 movie 2112: The Birth of Doraemon explains how it traveled from the 22nd century to the 20th century. One day in 2112, Doraemon was about to leave the production line, but due to an accident, it fell and lost a screw, which gave it a personality unlike other cat-shaped robots. After graduating from robot training school with poor grades, it participated in a television program for the adoption of non-new robots, and was mistakenly chosen by baby Sewashi Nobi. Seeing that Sewashi's family was struggling due to his great-great-grandfather's lack of ambition, Doraemon took on the task of changing Nobita Nobi's tragic life by traveling back in time to 1970s Japan using the time machine, and that's how the story we know began.
An interesting tidbit is that Doraemon was originally yellow like other robots, but one day, while sleeping, it had its ears chewed off by a mouse. After crying for days and nights, its bright yellow color was washed away by tears, revealing the blue undercoat. When Doraemon was introduced in China, there were several dubbed versions. The one I grew up with was voiced by Li Ye from the Shanghai TV Children's Broadcasting Group, and her voice had a slightly raspy quality. Each version has its own loyal fan base for its voice actors, but for us, Li Ye makes perfect sense—it's the sound of Doraemon's vocal cords damaged after crying for so long.
When I was little, during summer breaks, my parents were at work and I was home alone watching TV. This was the norm for many Asian families of my generation, though some families might have grandparents helping out. Anyway, cartoons were playing on TV, Cardcaptor Sakura (1998) was great, Chuka ichiban (1997) was good, but Doraemon? That was simply the best. What could be more captivating for a child than imagining the future? Although that child might just grow up and realize that the future isn't as bright as once imagined.
Doraemon was created in 1969, and over a decade later, Japan suffered an economic bubble, followed by major earthquakes and nuclear leaks, leading to ongoing social decline. Meanwhile, other Asian countries gradually followed in Japan's footsteps. Then, all of a sudden, a global pandemic struck. After humanity collectively faced such a massive crisis, things still hadn't improved much—wars are still being waged and provoked! The me sitting in front of the TV watching Doraemon in 2004 would never have imagined that 2024 would turn out like this.
Oh, Doraemon from 2112, why didn't you tell us? Were you afraid that children would lose hope for the future too early?
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