Abstract
In The Power of Cute, Simon May theorizes the aesthetics of cute as a global phenomenon. From Hello Kitty and Mickey Mouse to the art of Takashi Mukami and Yoshitomo Nara, cute objects are highly sellable, global and iconic. Their vulnerability, helplessness and wide-eyed designs reach far beyond Japanese cute (kawaii) culture. Simon May reveals that cute is far more complex than it seems at first sight – unsettling and artful. He reads it as a fully fledged aesthetics in its own terms.
Cute is not merely childlike or innocent. The fact that cute has a transformative power is key to Simon May’s argument. What makes cute stand out from similar terms, such as the sweet, is exactly this ambiguity. The cute is double-faced and never what it seems. Its vulnerability is always playful and questions our relationship to power. ‘This is a will that Cute can vividly convey precisely because it usually involves a relationship to a vulnerable object or to an object that flaunts, or flirts with, vulnerability’ (p. 9). In fact, May reveals that it is often the cute object that is in control.
Cute culture, Simon May argues, is even characteristic of our zeitgeist: ‘Cute . . . is above all a teasing expression of the unclarity, the uncertainty, the uncanniness, the continuous flux or “becoming” that our era detects at the heart of all existence, living and nonliving’ (p. 6). By drawing from examples such as the eponymous character in the film ET, May shows that the cute cannot easily be pinned down in terms of form (e.g. age, gender) but is betwixt and between.
The book is compact, offering different short chapters on cuteness. The first chapter primarily frames the concept and is titled Cute as a Weapon of Mass Seduction (p. 1). It provides a definition of cuteness in modern times. Chapters 2 and 3 are about the universal principles of cuteness and its history. The later chapters zoom into specific case studies, such as Mickey Mouse, kawaii objects in Japan, but also political leaders such as Trump. May often goes into different media and examples in one chapter, such as the similarities between Studio Ghibli’s anime and the balloon art of Jeff Koons. The last chapters revisit the aesthetics of cuteness and compare the term to similar concepts such as kitsch, camp, and irony.
Cuteness is thus not infantile or childish, but offers a complex look into our modern society. ‘Cute readily mocks power’, May writes (p. 188). This argument is clearly positioned from the first chapter onwards and the conclusion is not much different. The cases affirm May’s view, but never truly surprise the reader. Power of Cute is light and interesting, but also very organized. The book mentions the dark and powerful affect that the cute wields, but never truly demonstrates it. If the cute is in part a decoy, how does that work? There is something very interesting and unsettling about the idea that cuteness is always in control and never truly vulnerable. May thinks through this to some extent, but I would be curious to read more on this matter.
By discussing the term in the light of Susan Sonntag’s work on camp and Sanne Ngai’s earlier work on cute, May frames the concept as artful, affective, ironic, and humorous. Sometimes, Simon May stretches the term quite far: for instance, when he applies it to the appearance and political strategies of Trump and Kim Jong-il. While May often embeds the term in a fruitful way, it is uneasy to read an analysis of these leaders as cute.
Overall, Power of Cute is a compact philosophical book that aims to shed new light on an existing phenomenon. This is an engaging must-read for anyone interested in contemporary aesthetics, kawaii culture, and cuteness. Cute is revealed to be a thoughtful concept – a lens that helps us examine today’s society. Nostalgia, affect, and cuteness are not merely genres, but a deeper aesthetic that forms an antidote to social anxieties. Cute objects and characters take us back to simpler times and serve as our protectors in postmodern times.