There's a very common sentiment among the more amateurish parts of the yuri fandom that Class S is an outdated genre driven by historical compromises and editorial restrictions, rendering it unable to express a 'true' lesbianism because of its focus on symbolism and subtlety. ...
"Damned lesbians! They ruined yuri!"
This is an interesting analysis of why Class S as a genre still has something to offer, but I strongly disagree with its dismissiveness toward queer identity, the desire to see queerness represented in art, and indeed the idea you seem to have that no art can include "boorish" and "vulgar" modern LGBTQ+ identity and still qualify as art.
It frankly comes across as shadowing the tired old argument that yuri is supposed to be "pure" in a way that putting actual queer identity into somehow sullies, as if someone bringing up pronouns or the dreaded "L" word will break the spell and turn precious subtle beauty into something dirty and common.
Your insinuation that this is also a difference between Western and Japanese sensibilities is troubling. The LGBTQ+ movement exists in Japan too, and they are just as much a part of the conversations about identity and awareness. They have the same flags and the same labels. And Japanese lesbians are just as interested in exploring their own experiences through art - including yuri.
One needs only look at the works of creators like Amano Shinunta, Morinaga Milk, Usui Shio, Takemiya Jin, and so on to see that there's plenty of "art" to be seen in the modern Japanese woman's experiences as a lesbian. Give me some time, and I could come up with many more. This idea that Japanese lesbians aren't part of the queer community is...quaint at best, condescending and Orientalist at worst.
And what's funny is, I'd actually argue that part of what makes this particular work great is how it's an examination of Class S tropes, not just slavishly repeating them. It's about the meeting of Class S with the messiness of actual adolescent emotions and existence. Kasumi and Haruyo try to consciously take on these roles, but it's mixed with real-world issues and longing. They're Class S Onee-sama and Sumi-chan, but they're also two young queer women who clearly have feelings for each other that don't map perfectly onto that roadmap. And them navigating those different dynamics is what I feel like the story is about. It's a celebration of Class S, but also of young love in the messiness of the real world.
last edited at Aug 5, 2025 12:23PM