I just love the history of European caricature so much you guys, I love the nasty weird bitchy sometimes bizarrely touching ways nations personify and snipe at one another, it’s propaganda with so much personality and frankly it’s only my high social stats that keep me from talking about it to everyone all the time regardless of their stated interest
“I get really tired of people complaining about their country in Hetalia not being ‘accurate’. As an American, there are lots of things I could point out as not fitting America perfectly but honestly, I like him the way he is. Some fans seem to forget that the nations do have personalities outside of the stereotypes.”
Though Hetalia is, yes, a story about personified nations, it’s still a story. And every story needs characters. Even if the characters are stereotypical, they have to have other traits since stereotypes don’t have things like development or quirks.
Also, Hetalia was made by Himaruya. Though yes, he’s been to places, he’s still a Japanese man who may have Japanese perceptions and ideas of stereotypes.
Hetalia is 11 this year and I have been a fan for 7. Last year I wasn’t feeling the 10 year anniversary spirit due to some personal negative experiences in the fandom, as well as a serious lack of activity in my OTP’s community, so I was kinda in a phase where I wasn’t into it so much. However, one year after reflecting on the experiences and with new life breathed into the NedCan community, I’m more inclined to take part in the celebration now.
Unlike many people, Hetalia wasn’t my first fandom or anime (I was well into my late teens when I got into it) but it’s been the most consistent one. As a lover of cultures, languages and traveling, the concept of personified nations really appealed to me, even if I don’t always like the execution. But that’s the best part of the fandom for me, that we can pick out what we like and what we think needs improvement and shape it to our heart’s content.
I also can’t talk about my experience with Hetalia without talking about NedCan. Yes, this is going to be about my ship again but if I’m going to be honest, it’s about 80% of the reason I’m still in this fandom. Both countries influenced my life in big ways and I wouldn’t be who I am now without it. So when I found out about their history, they instantly became my favorite ship ever and it was after that that I’ve took on a more active role in the fandom, trying to build a community of like-minded people. I met some of my closest friends through this ship and I’m still in touch with many of them, even after they left the fandom. That is what I’m most grateful for. My art also improved tremendously over the years while I was trying to produce more content for them. No matter what happens, NedCan will always be a source of joy and inspiration for me and they will always have a special place in my heart.
I know a lot of people who had their first fandom experience with Hetalia are now berating it a lot and saying how much they cringe over this phase but honestly? I don’t think it’s as bad as some of them make it out to be. Yes, having characters who represents countries can lead to certain problems other fandoms don’t have, but like I said, I have been in other fandoms before Hetalia and it just doesn’t stand out to me as the worst one. When I first got into it, a lot of people who’s first fandom was Naruto were cringing over that at the time. Basically, things you did when you were younger will always feel embarrassing later, no matter what you were into at the time.
The fandom, of course, matured a lot with the fans getting older but there’s always room for improvement. Now that I’m officially a community leader and ambassador, I hope to educate and help out other fans (old and new) with the experience I gathered over the years. Happy anniversary!
Neither the Marxists nor the neoclassical economists have ever been able to admit that money is not essentially an economic instrument but a political reality. We have never seen any money that was not attached to a political order capable of backing it. That is also why the bills of the different countries bear the personal images of emperors and great statesmen, of founding fathers or personified allegories of the nation. But what is it that appears on euro banknotes? Not human figures, not emblems of a personal sovereignty, but bridges, aqueducts, arches - pieces of impersonal architecture, cold as stone. As to the truth about the present nature of power, every European has a printed exemplar of it in their pocket. It can be stated in this way: power now resides in the infrastructure of this world. Contemporary power is of an architectural and impersonal, and not a representative or personal, nature.
The lilac hangings smelt of late, summer nectar and beverages had been served with delectable, citrus biscuits. For the most part the meeting had gone quite smoothly. Well, as smoothly as was possible for the array of nations attending. This rare show of clockwork efficiency, however, had been obliterated come two o'clock.
When the personified nations had returned to the meeting room, a wide space decorated in burnt, autumnal colours, most of them sat down with post-lunch reluctance. Even Germany couldn’t stop his fingers from tapping with slight impatience.
There were two countries, though, that hadn’t even made it to their seats. The two nations were none other than England and America, both of whom were in the midst of a fierce and inane argument.
“When are you going to grow up?!” England exclaimed, the green of his eyes almost iridescent with his rage. America was trying to use the notable size difference to intimidate the smaller man, a tactic that was useless. England may be lacking in height compared to some but when he was this furious, tongue wicked sharp and presence nearly crackling, Arthur didn’t need an altitude advantage.
“Really? When am I going to grow up? Is that really all you’ve got, Arthur? I’ve been hearing the same thing since the 18th century! I have grown up! I think the real question is, when are you going to get over yourself?!” Alfred’s hands were in fists, his fingers crunched up into his palm.
None of the accusations being pitched back and forth had any real consequence behind them. The manner in which the two nations continued to look at each other throughout was ferocious, yes, but it wasn’t baleful.
It had been a long time since England and America had looked at each other with anything near to animosity. And for a few decades now, their eyes told quite the opposite tale.
England’s body seized underneath his starched uniform and, with the posture and elegance of a true, English solider, Arthur righted himself then promptly marched out of the room. Not before reminding America, exactly, where he could go and why he should go there, of course.
“Fine, whatever, bye,” Alfred spat, shrugging his broad shoulders.
Amidst the table of still nations, France raised his hand, palm open like a spring flower. With a whispered cinq, Francis closed his thumb into his hand.
“I’m not chasing after you, Arthur, I swear to god! And I’m not going to apologise!” America yelled with enough conviction it was almost credible. His body was stony and steadfast but his expression faltered. Quatre, trois… “Arthur, I’m serious!”
“Deux.” Another finger down.
America turned to France without really seeing him, as if only now realising there were other people present. With his lips lazily curved upwards, Francis downturned his pinky and said, with pleasant finality, “Un.”
On cue, Alfred sprinted out of the room in search of his cantankerous beloved; the door rattling with the vigour of the nation’s poorly managed strength. “I’m sorry, Arthur, come back sweetheart!”
“Spot on, Francis,” Antonio announced, breaking the silence with his amused resignation.
“I told you they were getting more predictable. You owe me a drink.”
“How about we bet on how long it takes before they’re having make-up sex?” Spain suggested with a shark’s grin.
“You’re on, mon cher!” France happily consented, saddling up to Spain.
Not long after, Italy’s wailing of, “I don’t want to think about England doing that, ew! Germany!” and Germany swiftly lost all hope of ever having a productive meeting with the idiots he had to work with.
I feel like trying to explain things from my perspective to my American followers the situation as it stands
Frankly if anyone’s compromising the precious Union, it’s the English politicians. Scottish people are like “Here, we have grievances, you never listen to us except when it’s convenient for you, we think we might do better if we just ended it.” And England goes ahead and makes his promises, y’know, maximum devolution, sounds sexy, Scotland finds at the last minute she can’t go through with it, maybe she can still make things work with the old lunk. But as soon as her train leaves and he gets her back in the house, what happens? “How about those sexy new rights and maximised power in all but foreign policy. I mean, I know we don’t see eye to eye on foreign policy but maybe we can work something out.” And England’s just like “Yeah, sure, sure, babe, let me talk the details over with the boys, we’ll work something out.” Then England staggers home drunk at about 9am the next day, and when Scotland asks how things are going she gets a smack and he yells something about “English votes for English laws.” So then Scotland stops hanging out with England’s friends and goes for more her own circle of support (the SNP) and England just can’t understand that bitch anymore, why’s she doing this to him, is being isolated with only him and his friends doing what he wants not good enough for her?
Anyway, um, point is. All the English politicians had to do to make everyone regain confidence in the system was make some show that they are capable of representing the interests of Scottish citizens AS British citizens, and they’ve just refused to do it. We tried for independence, blew the one chance we might have this generation, and now England’s not gonna let us live it down. We have 59 Parlaiment seats coming from Scotland, and English-run parties have completely lost it, having only 3 seats left in the whole damn thing while the SNP holds the other 56 as the third leading party of the UK, the interests of Scotland are maximised and yet it’s making the antibodies of English politics respond to the so called infection all the harder. We’re not considered British. Not by many of our own people, and often not by the politicians that are supposed to represent Britain. Not just their constituent but the best interests of us all. It’s beyond me, really.
Like I wasn’t even politically involved in this whole thing until I saw how the politicians handled it. I kept thinking “Hey, maybe if we got close to Independence but didn’t quite get it, that would be the best solution because it would air our grievances and British politics would shift to accomodate us.” But no, they’re strong arming us. They don’t have to do ANYTHING for us now that the looming threat of the end of the British Union is gone, and seeing that sheer disresepect is what ‘radicalised’ me.
When the word “hero” is mentioned, the last people you’d think of are a pair of criminals. Leonard Snart is one of those people. Underneath the frosty exterior, Leonard has a heart. It just takes some getting through to. His partner, Mick Rory, is a hot headed thug. Together, they have been given the names “Captain Cold and Heatwave.”
Recently, tragedy befalled and Leonard has “died”. However, he mearly gone to another world, where nations are personified. How did he end up here? He fell. Luckily it wasn’t a particularly hard fall.
Leonard picked himself up and brushed himself off. He held into his ice gun hidden by the thick navy coat. He began to walk down the road, accidentally bumping into America, Alfred Jones. “Excuse you.” He said and continued to walk.