貝絲·埃爾德金 李倩

The novel coronavirus pandemic has become an international crisis. In the world of fandom， pop culture conventions are being canceled and special appearances have been called off. The business of bringing characters to life is suffering and there seems to be no end in sight.

For millions of fans， cosplay is an opportunity to dress up as your favorite character and share your fandom with others. But for some， it is a full-time job—or， at the very least， a side hustle. Its not an easy career path. Cosplayers can spend 100 hours or more creating specialty costumes that cost upwards of $1，000 for the materials alone （not including the cost of labor， which could easily triple the price）. In exchange， some cosplayers who appear at events will negotiate appearance fees—which vary from a couple hundred to several thousand dollars—as well as flights， accommodations， and per diems. High-profile cosplayers sometimes do paid autograph sessions or request sales guarantees， which ensure the convention covers any merchandise shortfalls. But no one anticipated a shortfall like this.

For fans， this means missing out on panels， celebrity sightings， social events， and spending time with friends they may not otherwise see. But for professional cosplayers—some of whom make a living or at least a supportive second income from cosplay—this also means losing appearance fees， sponsorship deals， and the opportunity to sell merchandise to fans.

With organizers waiting a long time to cancel， either by accident or design， cosplayers are left struggling to figure out how to recoup the sudden income losses. Everyone I talked to said they understand why these conventions are being canceled， but it doesnt make things any easier.

The whole situation has left a lot of cosplayers in a bind. Since many of them count as independent contractors1， that means they dont qualify for state unemployment benefits. The CARES Act， which provides federal benefits for people whose jobs have been impacted by covid-19， has been extended to freelancers， but reports have shown its hard to access those benefits because the system isnt designed for the gig economy. In the meantime， sales of merchandise and other fandom goods have tanked. Some cosplayers are working more on Twitch and YouTube， or have turned to Patreon or Ko-fi to solicit support from fans.

The effects on cosplay as a hobby and industry itself isnt the only way the novel coronavirus has impacted their lives. Some have lost their day jobs—like New York-based cosplayer Jay Justice， who works as an independent writing consultant and editor. She told me contracts have dried up in recent weeks and its unclear when theyll bounce back.

Theres also the general toll that social distancing is taking on all of us. Its hard to feel motivated， especially when it comes to taking on creative projects， when so much is happening in the world. And when its your job to create beautiful things， or be around people and entertain them with your cosplay， adjusting to life without that can be draining for both your mental health and your wallet.

“In reality， theres no way to avoid depression and anxiety. In stressful situations， its very difficult to create content. And when you are the product; when the product is you， smiling， being happy. Presenting something. Talking to the audience about their lives. I have not been able to get into the mindset to do that in weeks，” Justice said. There are some unexpected impacts， too. Nashville-based non-profit Cosplay Collective is a group of volunteers who dress up to visit people in hospitals， like children with terminal diseases. Considering just how many people are stuck in hospitals right now—as well as the front line staffers working overtime to keep them safe—it feels like the groups work is more important than ever. But， of course， at a time when these cosplayers could be of help the most， they cant be there.

Cosplay Collective co-founder Dee Volpe said the nonprofit group has been experimenting with new ideas to help children and others in hospitals during this time. This includes holding virtual princess and superhero parties for kids， like one they recently did with Dreams and Wishes of Tennessee， as well as neighborhood drive-bys and walk-arounds in costumes.

But its just a stop-gap because no one knows whats waiting on the other side. In the meantime， there are attempts to recreate normalcy. Some conventions like San Diego Comic-Con have announced theyll do events online. This could mean more opportunities for cos-players to recoup some of the audience and revenue that was lost when this all started. However， as Justice pointed out， online cons arent remotely the same thing and they present new challenges. Cosplayers may have to deal with new rights issues—for example， if a con tries to claim ownership of a cosplayers images because they were shared on their streaming channel. Theres also the issue of compensation. Some cons could try to undercut cosplayers simply because they wont be there in person.

“There are companies that would be willing to compensate you for work that you would do at conventions， that will ghost you if you talk about compensation for doing the same content online，” Justice said. “People who read this may think that its easy and cosplayers just get money thrown at them. Im like， no， you have to constantly negotiate your own value， 100 percent.”

Its a challenging time for everyone， and cosplayers are just one of the many communities that have been impacted by the con scene cancellations. For-profit convention organizers employ hundreds of con staffers and volunteers at their events， pump money into their local economies， and give vendors and creators a chance to showcase their goods. San Diego Comic-Con， which is categor-ized as a nonprofit， has almost 1，000 employees and brings over $150 million worth of economic impact into the city. Almost all of that will be lost now.

But the unique challenge with cos-players is that they make a living by being seen. Its one thing to glance at an image of a costume online. Its another to see it in person or get a close-up look at the craftsmanship and detail that went into making that fictional character come to life. Every cosplayer I talked to said they were hopeful that conventions and cos-play can survive this ordeal， though none of them knew how or how long it would take. To be fair， most officials dont either. But many of them seem willing to wait because its what they love. ? ? ? ? ? ?■

新冠疫情已演化為一場國際危機。在“粉圈”中，流行文化展會紛紛取消，特別演出也被叫停。這個賦予角色以生命的行業(yè)正遭受沖擊，眼下似無盡頭。

于無數(shù)粉絲而言，角色扮演可使其裝扮成至愛角色并與他人分享所愛。而對有些人來說，這卻是全職工作，或者至少是副業(yè)。這并非一條輕松的職業(yè)道路。角色扮演者有時會花費100小時乃至更長時間來制作特色服飾，僅材料成本就高達1000美元（還不包括很可能三倍于此的人工成本）。為求回報，部分參展角色扮演者會與主辦方協(xié)商出場費——從兩三百美元至幾千美元不等，以及機票費、住宿費、每日津貼。知名角色扮演者有時會舉辦付費簽名會或要求主辦方包銷，以確保展會能彌補銷售虧損。但如今這般入不敷出的情況卻是他們始料未及的。

對于粉絲而言，展會的取消意味著他們將錯失同好交流會、名人見面會、社交活動，無法與只在展會才得以見面的好友相聚。但對于職業(yè)角色扮演者而言（他們有人以角色扮演謀生，或至少借此賺取外快補貼開支），這還意味著他們失去了出場費、贊助以及向粉絲銷售商品的機會。

由于展會主辦方有意或無意地延后發(fā)布展會取消的公告，角色扮演者在面臨這突如其來的收入損失時，不得不苦思彌補之道。和我交談過的每個人都對展會的取消表示理解，但這也于事無補。

當前形勢使得眾多角色扮演者陷入困境。他們中的許多人都算是獨立合同人，這就意味著他們無法獲得州失業(yè)救助。為就業(yè)受疫情影響人群提供聯(lián)邦救助的《冠狀病毒援助、救濟和經(jīng)濟安全法》雖已覆蓋自由職業(yè)者，但調查報告顯示，零工經(jīng)濟從業(yè)者并非主要施助對象，因此很難獲取相關救助。與此同時，相關商品和其他周邊產(chǎn)品的銷量也大幅下滑?，F(xiàn)在，部分角色扮演者的工作多在Twitch和優(yōu)兔上進行，或者通過Patreon或Ko-fi平臺尋求粉絲的支持。

新型冠狀病毒對角色扮演者生活的影響絕不止于興趣和行業(yè)本身。有些人失去了自己的全職工作，例如紐約的角色扮演者杰伊·賈斯蒂斯，她是一名自由職業(yè)者，從事寫作顧問和編輯工作。她告訴筆者，最近幾周都沒有接到活兒，也不清楚何時會恢復常態(tài)。

還有保持社交距離對所有人的普遍影響。在此多事之秋，人們難有動力，在開展創(chuàng)意工作時更是如此。當你的工作是創(chuàng)造美的事物，或通過角色扮演陪伴和取悅他人時，適應不再擁有這些的生活會讓人遭受精神與物質的雙重打擊。

賈斯蒂斯說：“實際上，抑郁和焦慮無法避免。高壓環(huán)境使人難以開展內(nèi)容創(chuàng)作。你就是產(chǎn)品本身，你要展現(xiàn)歡笑，要保持快樂，要呈現(xiàn)什么，并和觀眾談論他們的生活。我好幾星期都沒能進入狀態(tài)?！贝送猓€有一些意想不到的影響。位于納什維爾的非營利組織“角色扮演團”由一群志愿者組成，他們裝扮自己，去醫(yī)院探望病人，如患有絕癥的兒童。鑒于現(xiàn)在住院的人如此之多，又有眾多一線醫(yī)護人員加班加點地工作以保障他們的安全，該組織的工作比以往任何時候都更為重要。然而，在這些角色扮演者可以提供最大幫助之時，他們卻不能出現(xiàn)在那里。

角色扮演團的聯(lián)合創(chuàng)始人迪伊·沃爾普說，該非營利組織一直在嘗試新想法，以在此危機期間幫助醫(yī)院里的兒童與其他病人。比如為孩子們舉辦公主和超級英雄的虛擬派對（他們近期幫“田納西的夢想與希望”組織辦了一場），以及著盛裝在住宅小區(qū)里駕車或步行巡游。

但這只是權宜之計，因為沒人知道接下來會發(fā)生什么。與此同時，人們也在試圖重建常態(tài)。圣迭戈動漫展等展會宣布將于線上舉辦活動。這或許意味著，角色扮演者有更多機會挽回一部分疫情所致的觀眾流失與收入損失。然而，正如賈斯蒂斯指出的，線上展會與現(xiàn)場展會截然不同，它們帶來了新的挑戰(zhàn)。角色扮演者可能不得不應付新的版權問題，例如，展會可能會對角色扮演者的照片主張所有權，因為照片要在其流媒體頻道上共享。這還涉及補償金的問題。有些展會可能會因為角色扮演者不能身臨現(xiàn)場而企圖少付報酬。

“有些公司愿為你在展會上的工作給予報酬，但若你對內(nèi)容相同的線上工作提及報酬，他們就人間蒸發(fā)了?！辟Z斯蒂斯說，“讀到此文的人或許認為角色扮演者的錢來得很容易。我認為不是這樣的，得不折不扣地為自身價值而不斷議價才行?！?/p>

對每個人來說，這都是一個艱難時期，而角色扮演者只是因現(xiàn)場展會取消而受影響的眾多群體之一。營利性展會主辦方在辦展期間雇用數(shù)百名工作人員和志愿者，為當?shù)亟?jīng)濟帶來收入，并為供應商和創(chuàng)作者提供展示產(chǎn)品的機會。屬于非營利性展會的圣迭戈動漫展擁有近千名員工，為這座城市創(chuàng)造了超過1.5億美元的經(jīng)濟效益。現(xiàn)在這些幾乎都將化作泡影。

然而角色扮演者所面臨的獨特挑戰(zhàn)在于，他們要靠被人觀賞來謀生。在網(wǎng)上看服裝圖片是一回事，而親眼目睹或近距觀看使虛構人物栩栩如生的工藝和細節(jié)則是另一番體驗。每位與我交談過的角色扮演者都表示相信漫展和角色扮演都能挺過這場磨難，但沒人知道要如何渡過，需要多少時間。坦白地講，就連大多數(shù)官員也不知道。但許多角色扮演者似愿等待，因為這就是他們所愛。? □

（譯者單位：華中科技大學）