珍妮弗·卡尔普 周坤

Myrtle R. Douglas， otherwise known as Morojo， rarely gets the credit she deserves for the worldwide phenomenon. 角色扮演如今風靡世界，然而默特尔·R.道格拉斯，亦唤作Morojo，却功劳未彰。

With its focus on fashion and creative craftsmanship， cosplay provides a path into fandom for young women， and once theyre inside， it makes them highly visible. Wearing their fannish devotion quite literally on their bodies， contemporary female cosplayers pay a lovely tribute to the woman who invented their hobby—though they probably dont realize it， as her massive contribution to pop culture has largely been forgotten by history.

Myrtle Rebecca “Morojo” Douglas Smith Gray Nolan was a Gemini， born in June 1904. She was an atheist， an active member of the Los Angeles Science Fiction Society， and a proponent of the 19th-century constructed auxiliary language Esperanto， meant to foster communication and understanding between people of all cultures.

Between the years of 1938 and 1958， she edited three separate long-running sci-fi fanzines （“editing” including all of the typing， mimeo， and physical work required to manufacture the zines， naturally） and wrote editorials for several major early sci-fi “pro”-mags in the early 40s. Basically she was the mid-20th century equivalent of a prolific， influential blogger. She married three times， had one son， and shared a decade-long romantic and creative relationship with fellow fan Forrest J. Ackerman， with whose help she sparked off a phenomenon that would develop into costume-loving fan culture we know today. In the decades following her death， her memory has largely been resigned to footnotes designating her a mere “girlfriend，” and thats a damn shame， because both with and without Ackerman Morojo was a badass.

Though they never married， Morojo and “Forrie” spent over a decade together. Active in the Los Angeles Science Fiction Society， the couple collaborated on the production of an eight-year， 50- issue run of the clubs official zine Voice of the Imagi-Nation as well as their own fanzine Novacious. Morojos affection for Ackerman was so great that she paid him tribute in her nickname.1 Morojo and “4E” （4E = Forrie = Forrest） sometimes even used a joint Esperanto name on projects they created together， like some sort of pre-digital proto-blogger couple with a shared social media account.

For more than 10 years Morojo and Ackerman were an inseparable， intellectually compatible dream duo， and 1939 was an especially big year for the pair： they started their first major zine together， jointly financed the publication of teenage Ray Bradburys first sci-fi zine， and attended the first-ever World Science Fiction Convention （Worldcon） wearing “futuristicostumes” straight out of the 1936 H. G. Wells movie Things to Come—the first fan costumes ever worn in recorded history.

Morojo and Ackerman shook the newly developing geek culture to its core with those costumes， laying the foundation for a hobby that would become a majorly significant expression of fandom before the 20th century was out. But heres the thing： while towering Ackerman made a great model for his costume， he had nothing whatsoever to do with its construction. Both of the costumes were envisioned， designed， and laboriously hand-made by Morojo！ Forrie deserves partial credit for the invention of cosplay， sure： he was a grown man who boldly wore a shiny space cape through the streets of New York in 1939. And what the hell， well presume that they thought up the idea of wearing costumes to the con together—it would be ungenerous to suppose otherwise. But Morojo！ Morojo was the person who single-handedly brought fantasy into real physical space when she created and wore her own costume. Given modern cosplays intense focus on individual creativity and craft， its bizarre that Ackerman is the one most often credited as being the O.G. cosplayer in fan literature. Morojo， who made the futuristicostumes， deserves the bulk of the credit.

To crush the next few decades of history into a single sentence： the idea of dressing up like your favorite fictional characters caught on and gained traction. After 1939， costume contests became an annual tradition at Worldcon， drawing more and more participants with each passing year. Morojo herself wore at least two more costumes to subsequent cons： in 1941， an A. Merritt-inspired frog face mask designed and created by the then young and unknown visual effects master Ray Harryhausen， and in 1946 another Merritt-inspired “Snake Mother” ensemble， which reportedly “created a sensation.” But time passed quickly. New fans enthusiastically embraced the costume custom without really wondering about its origins. Nobody in the tight-knit sci-fi fan community bothered to explain its provenance to outsiders. When Japanese writer Nobuyuki Takahashi visited Worldcon Los Angeles in 1984 and coined the term “cosplay” to describe the experience to readers back home， Morojo had long been forgotten.

The fan costume hobby she had initiated exploded， though， becoming wildly popular in Japan. The brand-new baby internet increased ease of cross-cultural communication and the fire coming out of Japan spurred costume-wearing Western fans to step up their craft. Cosplay blazed through the geek fandoms that had sprung up in the wake of sci-fi， staking territory in fan groups devoted to fantasy， anime， comics， and gaming. It was unstoppable， and no amount of craven comment section misogyny or inappropriate leering at cons could turn the tide.

Morojo had faded from memory， but the path she hacked into early sci-fi circles lead thousands of girly geeks into fandom.

The ending of Morojos own personal tale is less unambiguously cheerful. Superfans arent always fated for eternal love， and Morojo and Forrie broke up in the mid-40s. Morojo didnt split from sci-fi fandom when she parted ways with Ackerman， however; she remained active in the L.A. sci-fi scene throughout the 1940s， publishing her own Esperanto-focused fanzine Guteto from 1941 until 1958.

Later， in an unbelievably fabulous late-life narrative twist， the Mother of Cosplay decided to spend the last decade of her time on Planet Earth indulging “a love of the nudist movement.” She lived out this costumeless dream with her third and final husband in the high desert of Southern California.

Morojo， who so loved a language created in attempt to linguistically unite the entire world， would have probably loved the internet. And Morojo， “a vociferous opponent of the Exclusion act，” sexism， and racism in early fandom， would have loved to know that the “futuristicostumes” she made in 1939 would ultimately lead to the development of a more diverse， welcoming fan community than she might ever have imagined in her own time. The next time you cosplay， remember Morojo， the first woman who ever donned a costume to march into a con. With a single epic act of fashion， she made the world a little wider for women.                ■

角色扮演聚焦时尚，专注创意精工，为年轻女性表达所爱铺就了一条大道。一旦进入粉丝圈，角色扮演使她们备受瞩目。当如今的女性角色扮演者将一腔热爱真切地穿在自己身上时，可能她们自己都没意识到，这是在向这项爱好的发起者致敬——因为长久以来这位女性对流行文化的杰出贡献多半为历史所遗忘。

默特尔·丽贝卡·道格拉斯·史密斯·格雷·诺兰，别名Morojo，出生于1904年6月，是双子座。她是无神论者，在洛杉矶科幻协会表现活跃，同时也是“世界语”的倡导者。这门辅助语言创于19世纪，旨在促进不同文化背景的人相互沟通，彼此理解。

1938年至1958年间，默特尔主編了三本互不相关﹑长期发行的同人杂志（此处的“主编”不仅包揽所有的打字、油印工作，自然还包括制作杂志所需的体力劳作）。此外，她还为1940年代早期几家主要的初创“专业”科幻杂志撰写社论。在现在看来，基本上她就是20世纪中期影响广泛的高产博主。默特尔有过三次婚姻，育有一子，与同是科幻迷的福里斯特·J.阿克曼保持了一段长达10年的恋爱关系，这段恋情既浪漫又充满创意。在福里斯特的帮助下，默特尔在当时引发了一种现象，而这个现象后来演变成了今天我们所熟知的粉丝装扮文化。在她死后的数十年里，关于她的记忆，大多就只是附带的阿克曼“女友”这一点。这实在令人遗憾，因为无论有没有阿克曼，Morojo都是了不起的人物。……