Mashle: Extra Ordinary Heroes

Not every hero has to have superpowers or magic. Some just need to try really, really hard.

Preface

The first time I picked up Mashle, I read it so hard and so fast that I genuinely burned out. I recognized the familiar tropes and kind of found myself drifting away from it, but also wanting all of it, all at once. I liken it to my brain imploding. So it passed out of mind for about a year but when I found it again, same sensation, this time no burn out.

I point this out for a reason. Because in the year that Mashle was out of my mind, I stumbled on two really fascinating storytelling elements that became such a big part of my own storytelling before realizing, on my return to Mashle, that it had both of those elements in very unique shapes and sizes.

Call it magic. Or muscles, I don’t care.

Preface over.

Early 2023 I was exploring the subject of power/magic-less heroes. Ours is a world overflowing with stories of hidden talents and superpowers and it occurred to me that there really aren’t that many narratives, in manga or otherwise, where the protagonist is ordinary or without the powers their unique world offers everyone else but them. Maybe that’s because it isn’t jazzy enough, who knows. Do we really want stories about ordinary people in extraordinary worlds?

Several manga try it. Black Clover and My Hero Academia present protagonists without the powers of their universe, only for them to be gifted the strongest power out there. It’s what I call a cheat code. Kaiju No. 8, Chainsaw Man, and Jujutsu Kaisen (and many more) give us powerless protagonists who, not by choice, end up with superpowers, for better and/or worse.

But what about characters in a magical world that have no powers? That have to make do? And not just make do, but make a difference?

The only example at the time I could find was outside of manga. There’s a brilliant children’s graphic novel series from Jamar Nicholas called Leon the Extraordinary, about a boy in a superhero society who has no powers. But that doesn’t get him down, because Leon is remarkably intuitive and resourceful. He becomes his own hero, no powers needed. It’s such an inspirational story, especially for young readers because—spoiler—there are no radioactive spiders waiting to give a youngster web-slinging abilities. You are what you are, and that should be enough.

And before I get too far, let me address the people who will inevitably clamor that people like Bruce Wayne (Batman) and Tony Stark (Ironman) don’t have superpowers. Sure they do. They have unlimited money, which is the superpower.

Enter Mash Burnadead, the glorious protagonist of Mashle. In a world where everyone has magic and the “lackmagics” literally disappear, Mash has no magic. Instead, he uses his own physical strength to overcome pretty much anything, by punch or by creampuff. Now, it’s not a perfect fit for a powerless hero for two reasons. First of all, he’s incredibly powerful, ridiculously so, even if it is by his own creation. He is physically fit to a stupid degree. But, and I’ll get more to this later, the absurdity is all part of the shtick. He’s still without magic.

Secondly, there is some muddled messaging later on where Mash is revealed to be a sort of “chosen-ish one” which is a trope that’s so overdone it’s nauseating. Have I ranted about Rey from the Star Wars sequel trilogy enough? They had the chance to shuck the chosen one trope once and for all and they… didn’t. But I digress. Again.

No matter how “chosen” Mash is, he still has no magic and it’s his training alone that sets him up for success. He isn’t given a cheat code, even if his physical capabilities are a bit outlandish. He is self-made. He’s constantly looked down on, shunned and outed for not being fit for this magical world. To such an extent that I’d even call him an inverse chosen one, which is a great concept, by the way.

Which is when I start to redact what I said about it not being a perfect fit. Because here’s the thing—in order to do something different in a genre, you still have to be in the genre. Mashle is everything a Shonen manga is supposed to be. A group of friends, stakes that ratchet up and up, newfound abilities, bigger and badder villains, so on and so forth.

Yet Mash stays the same. He so obviously stays the same.

And that’s where the second storytelling element comes into the picture. There are a nauseating number of plot structures, and there’s no point in knowing them all, but one of them involves what’s called emotional stagnation. Which is simply a story where the character doesn’t really change throughout their changing situation.

Boy howdy does that apply to Mash. He is emotionally monotonous.

By brilliant intent or gorgeous coincidence, these two elements work together so incredibly well to be exactly what there isn’t enough of in storytelling while still delivering exactly what this genre requires. A powerless protagonist up against an evolving world that wants nothing to do with him. While it’s Mash’s lack of magic that makes him take root in this special storytelling zone, it’s his intentional lack of growth that’s like the sucker punch after the devastating jab-cross. In a sense, he is everything a character shouldn’t be in this space, despite still being everything a character should be.

Let me break that down. Mash checks every box for a protagonist in his space: powerful, uniquely situated to make a difference, leader of a group, fights for justice.

While also checking every box a protagonist shouldn’t be in this space: without any superpowers (not even by cheat code *cough* Asta *cough*), devoid of emotional growth, monotonous.

Making him the most spectacularly unspectacular and unspectacularly spectacular protagonist I’ve ever seen. He is a paradox of character development in the best way possible because he’s essentially a spiral of unending questions regarding how/why he fits in this storytelling space.

And if you’ve had the joy of reading and/or watching Mashle, you know where his conflicting traits meet: comedy. He is a comedic goldmine, both for his absurd physical capabilities and for his emotional stagnation. Emotional stagnation in storytelling naturally lends itself to humor across mediums, but Mash’s is more multifaceted than that. His emotional stagnation can be found in his endless, and I mean endless, deadpan facial expressions. It never gets old.

Cue the montage.

Are we getting the picture? My phone memory is about 50% full of pictures of Mash Burnadead.

Back to it—it was also a conscious choice to pair his emotional vacancy with his outrageous physicality. Switch the polarity here and make him an over-the-top, ecstatic meathead and the comedy changes completely and, I’d argue, fails. Wouldn’t it get annoying? I think it would. Plus, there’s a surplus of over-the-top manga characters. But emotionally stagnant? Much rarer.

Which raises the important question—and one I have and will continue to explore at MangaCraft—how do you stand out in storytelling as a whole when there is so much out there? Every story has been told, full stop. Storytelling is mad science. And when you find one that works, there may be one that works better. It’s enough to drive you crazy. Bringing me back, as always, to our dear friend Mash Burnadead.

I stopped reading Mashle the first time because I was looking at all the wrong things, asking all the wrong questions. If you want a Shonen, you can do better. But if you want a wholly original character that will send you spiraling into fits of laughter and deep contemplation, you can’t do better.

For creative writers: what are characters in your genre like, and how/why is yours different?

For Mashle fans: favorite deadpan moment? Pictures encouraged.