Manga Bookshelf

Discussion, Resources, Roundtables, & Reviews

Archives for May 2011

A Bride's Story Volume 1

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I think it is nice that Kaoru Mori’s manga inspires special treatment. The editions of Emma from CMX featured matte paper stock that gave the volumes an old timey feel. A Bride’s Story gets the deluxe treatment from Yen Press, with the first volume arriving as an over sized hardback with a lovely wraparound illustration on the dust jacket. The painstaking research, sympathetic characters, and lovely detailed illustrations that readers enjoyed in Emma are in full effect in A Bride’s Story, with the bonus of a heroine who enjoys hunting rabbits from horseback with a bow.

The story takes place along the Silk Road in the 19th century. Amir is twenty years old, and she’s sent to marry a twelve year old boy named Karluk. Amir comes from a more nomadic tribe than Karluk’s family, with the result that she brings with her some skills that her new family hasn’t possessed in awhile. Amir seems anxious to fit into her new place, trying to be helpful whenever possible and she seems to be waiting for her new husband to grow up. Evidently twenty years is an unforgivably old age for a bride, and the backstory behind the marriage isn’t shown. Karluk is an uncommonly calm twelve year old, who seems to take his responsibilities very seriously. He jumps at the chance to try to locate his uncle’s clan of shepherds, wanting to be reintroduced to his relatives as a married man.

I’d always thought that Mori’s slice of life stories are particularly good at portraying children and how they negotiate the world. Rostam, the youngest member of the household, becomes fascinated with the local woodcarver and he neglects his chores to observe him. This gives Mori the excuse to showcase some dazzling panels of woodcarving patters, as well as showing the reactions of Rostam’s family. His mother sends him to bed without dinner, then tasks Amir with sneaking him food later. When it is clear that this is a general pattern of Rostam getting punishments that his mother immediately regrets, Amir declines to participate. She’s nervous and wants to please her new family, but when they start discussing rabbit stew she seizes the opportunity to grab her bow (part of her dowry) and race off on her horse to hunt.

A Bride’s Story would be plenty entertaining if it just showcased Mori’s research and charming illustrations, but she decides to introduce a note of suspense when it seems like Amir’s family has started to regret sending her off to marry Karluck. Amir gets an unexpected ally when the matriarch of the family (an enjoyable example of the kick-ass grandma character that often appears in manga) decides to defend the new bride. Karluck’s grandmother received a bow with her dowry too! With publishers going out of business and series going out of print or left unfinished, I’ve been feeling a little less enthused about manga lately. Reading A Bride’s Story has reminded me about the possibilities for storytelling unique to manga, and I’m happy to find a great new series to read.

Pick of the Week: A Bride’s Story & Others

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New manga from Kaoru Mori (unsurprisingly) steals the show at Midtown Comics this week, but check out our recommendations for additional picks as well!

KATE: A new Kaoru Mori manga is always cause for celebration, so I’m getting this week’s party started by recommending A Bride’s Story, which debuts on Wednesday. Like Emma and Shirley,A Bride’s Story is as much about the historical period — its customs, its social hierarchies, its clothing — as it about the characters. In this case, the setting is the Silk Road in the nineteenth century, and the characters are Amir, a twenty-year-oldwoman, and Karluk, her twelve-year-old husband. Their union is one of political expedience, but their growing respect for one another suggests that their marriage has the potential to evolve. Not a whole lot happens in the first volume, but the artwork is lovely, and the gently meandering storylines allow us to see just how capable and complex Amir really is. I’m already pining for volume two!

MICHELLE: I’m keen to read A Bride’s Story myself, but my pick this week goes to the second volume of Natsume Ando’s Arisa, back from a long hiatus as publishing rights shifted from Del Rey to Kodansha Comics. Volume one served up delicious shoujo creepiness as a tough girl named Tsubasa disguised herself as her more refined twin to figure out what in her school life caused her to attempt suicide, and ended just as she was on the verge of discovering the identity of “the King,” a mysterious person with the ability to grant any wish. Not only is the series back, it’s also on a bimonthly schedule from this point on.

DAVID: I’m going to have to second Kate’s pick of A Bride’s Story. I’m such a fan of Mori’s Emma that it would seem treasonous to do otherwise. (Though I’m also very much looking forward to Arisa.)

MJ: You can add me to the list of Manga Bookshelf-ers eagerly anticipating A Bride’s Story, but I’ll also take this opportunity to give a shout-out to one of my favorite shoujo series, Peach Pit’s Shugo Chara!. Kodansha Comics brings out volume 10 this week, following its long run with Del Rey Manga, and I can’t wait to pick it up! I’ve written a lot about this series (including a heartfelt plea for lowering its age rating) much of which can be accessed via my Shugo Chara! Evangelism post. After all that, can I pass up the chance to recommend it one more time? I think not!

Amazon.com Widgets

Readers, what looks good to you this week?

MMF: Ten things I love about Cross Game

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I’ve already spilled so much cyber ink on Mitsuru Adachi’s Cross Game (Viz), and I’m sure I’ll continue to do so. Quite simply, it’s one of the finest shônen series I’ve ever read. Heck, it’s of the best comics of any category that I’ve read. Here are ten reasons why I feel that way:

It’s less about baseball than the people who play it. One of the first questions that always arise when a sports manga is published in English is whether or not a reader needs to be interested in the sport in question to appreciate the manga. In the case of Cross Game, fondness for the sport isn’t necessary, and I say that from a place of profound disinterest in our putative national sport. Here’s the thing, as I see it: a creator or creators can tell an interesting story about any subject, no matter how removed from my personal interests, if they approach the material with intelligence and restraint and populate the telling with compelling, complex characters. The cast of Cross Game is undeniably dedicated to baseball, but they’re also invested in their interpersonal relationships with friends and family. Protagonist Ko Kitamura wants to succeed in the sport, but his reasons are specific and deeply personal. Aoba Tsukishima wants to excel in baseball as well, but her efforts are nicely tinged with ambivalence over the limitations a girl faces in that endeavor. They don’t live in a baseball-centric vacuum where nothing else matters. It’s not about baseball; it’s about the ways baseball intersects with characters’ deeper lives.

The pacing is often surprising. One of the first things that struck me about Adachi is the fact that he seems very unconcerned with the kind of traditional, beat-by-beat storytelling that you sometimes find in shônen manga. He can certainly spend chapters examining the progress of a single baseball game, but that progress is layered with so much more than stats and stunts. A good half of the second collection features Ko’s team of second-stringers challenging the coach’s chosen squad. It’s got the kind of narrative weight you’d expect, what with the underdogs stepping up and trying to prove their worth, but there are plenty of unexpected undercurrents. Adachi uses the game to explore the sometimes unsavory politics of team sports. He also uses a perfectly delightful and unexpected narrative device, as Aoba and a mysterious old man watch the game together, immediately establish a rapport, and evaluate the progress with a full and understated grasp of the other’s emotional and personal subtext. The game is fine, but the framing is better, and Adachi entirely skims over what other artists might consider pivotal moments to be documented from every angle and articulated in exhaustive, exhausting detail.

Adachi trusts the intelligence of his readers. Part of the peril of sports manga is that aforementioned exhausting detail, so it’s refreshing to see that Adachi doesn’t fall into that trap. He’s figured out the exact formula for how much exposition his readers will need to understand what’s going on, which means he doesn’t need to resort to the trick of pervasive narration drowning the actual action. He can show instead of tell, which is a disappointingly rare ability in a field that should rely so heavily on showing. Part of it might be confidence, but I think a more significant element is trust in the fact that readers care enough about the characters to remember their motivations and intuit how they drive their behaviors. Clear and persuasive motivations obviate the need for middle-distance monologues about what’s about to or has just happened.

The digressions are as appealing as the primary narrative. Cross Game is one of those titles that fully cohere in spite of seemingly disparate elements. Adachi can wander away from the baseball to pursue side stories and character moments that support the narrative as a whole. Quirky day-in-the-life chapters are charming in their own right and provide a change of pace, but they also give readers a wider view of the characters, which makes them even more likable.

The dialogue is understated. I’d never argue that this is an immovable requirement of good storytelling. I would even concede that the aforementioned middle-distance monologues can make some manga better. Look at the searing, hyper-expressed inner passions of the characters in Kyoko Ariyoshi’s Swan (CMX). All the same, it’s a pleasure to see a more oblique approach. As with Natsuki Takaya’s Fruits Basket (Tokyopop), characters in Cross Game are much more likely to allude to past events than to fully restate them. It’s more in line with the way people actually speak, in fragments and phrases that the people who know them will understand, and those people include readers.

It can be very funny. The humor in Cross Game, like everything else, derives largely from who the characters are. The most aggressively comic character, Senda, is actually funny, which isn’t always a given. This egotistical dork is the type who really can’t accurately assess his own strengths and weaknesses, and Adachi takes at least a little delight in humiliating him. Senda isn’t mocked without at least a degree of fondness, though. Aoba is funny in a subtler way; her set-jaw certainty and pragmatism are amusing in contrast to some of the space cases around her, and Adachi lets her be wrong without scolding her.

It can be very sad. Of course, the thing Aoba is wrong about most often is Ko, but she can hardly be blamed. Early in the series, they share a very specific, very real loss, and it informs their young adulthood in ways that are both mournful and somewhat uplifting. Aoba and Ko have the same pole star, relying on their memories of this person to influence their actions in what they think are positive ways. Of course, those memories also form obstacles between Aoba and Ko, in spite and because of the things they have in common. It isn’t unusual for a shônen tale to have a driving, underlying tragedy, but it’s rare for it to be as grounded and effectively applied as it is here. The notes of sorrow pop up at unexpected but entirely credible moments, and they make the palette of the piece richer.

Adachi brings the mono no aware. It’s that juxtaposition of sorry and comedy blended with wistfulness and self-awareness that categorizes the concept of mono no aware, or “the pity of things,” for me. The characters here are very much invested in the moment, but they’re also cognizant of how fleeting that moment can be. Past, present and future all intersect to influence the characters’ feelings, making them feel truer and more pungent. If there’s a quality that makes me really invest in a story, particularly in a comic from Japan, it’s mono no aware.

It looks great. Adachi’s art has all of the individual elements that combine to form an attractive book – appealing character design, a facility for rendering people and objects in motion, sly comedic styling, and so on. What strikes me most are the page compositions, which often use a series of small, rigid panels to create a more sinuous whole. That style can be applied to the wide spectrum of tones Adachi routinely incorporates into his story. It’s more than good panel-by-panel drawing; it’s effective staging of those panels into something larger.

There’s an adorable cat. Okay, the cat isn’t central to the narrative, and its appearances are more like Easter eggs – little flashes of cuteness that occasionally pop up. But Adachi draws the cat very well, and he’s restrained in his use of the furry little critter. It adds a nice little touch to the Tsukishima household, making it feel slightly more real than it already does. And, let’s face it, the presence of an adorable cat always makes manga better. See also: Shampoo in Kiyoko Arai’s Beauty Pop (Viz).

So there are the ten reasons I love Cross Game. They’re also the reasons I’m so eager to read more of Adachi’s work. I look forward to seeing other people’s reaction to the series as the current Manga Moveable Feast (hosted by The Panelists) progresses.

 

Bookshelf Briefs 5/22/11

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This week, MJ, Kate, David, & Michelle take a look at a slew of manga from Viz Media and one lonely manhwa from Yen Press.

13th Boy, Vol. 7 | By Sangeun Lee | Yen Press – There are few currently-running romance series I find as charming as Sangeun Lee’s 13th Boy, and exactly none can match it in sheer whimsy. Volume seven’s main drama revolves around sometimes-talking-cactus Beatrice who, in the midst of some serious heartache, reverts to his human form off-schedule without any sign of turning back, placing him smack in the middle of Hee-So’s newfound romance without a comfortable pot to retreat to. It’s an absurd situation, obviously, but though the series’ author doesn’t try to deny that fact, the emotional drama created for the story’s main characters is utterly serious. Lee’s sense of humor never sinks to self-concious eye-rolling, even in its most outrageous moments. It doesn’t hurt that I kinda ‘ship the story’s heroine with the cactus. What can I say? Still recommended. -MJ

Afterschool Charisma, Vol. 3 | By Kumiko Suekane | Viz Media – After two volumes of build-up and teasing, Kumiko Suekane finally offers readers a reward for their patience: not only does stuff blow up in volume three, but Suekane drops a nasty little surprise in one of her characters’ laps, forcing him to question his very identity as a clone. Good as volume three may be, pacing remains an issue; every time Suekane stages a bit of comic relief, the series’ creepy, unsettling vibe dissipates in a cloud of fanservice and lame historical jokes. Still, Afterschool Charisma gathers enough momentum in these chapters to overcome its narrative weaknesses, ending on a cliffhanger that’s sure to please fans. And really, what’s not to like about a manga that portrays Freud and Mozart as petulant bishies, or Rasputin as the class bad boy? -Katherine Dacey

Detroit Metal City, Vol. 9 | By Kiminori Wakasugi | Viz Media – As I struggle to come up with a summary for this volume that might distinguish it from those before, I think it may be time to admit that I’ve reached my limit with this series. I’ve been a fan since the beginning, but as is the case with so many gag manga, Detroit Metal City has worn out its gag. Yes, Negishi still wants to be a Swedish pop star, and yes, he still reverts to his death metal alter-ego whenever things (inevitably) do not go right in his sweet, cheese-tart-filled life. Though it was once interesting (and certainly hilarious) to ponder on Negishi’s real personality, the question has long outlived its potential for fascination, and even the best jokes are beginning to wear thin. Detroit Metal City, it was good to know you. But all things must pass. -MJ

Gente, Vol. 3 | By Natsume Ono | Viz Media – Is this the best Ono title available in English? Heavens, no. Did I enjoy it a great deal? Certainly. This volume is even more of a collection of casually related shorts than the previous two, but they’re good shorts with a gracious nature and a warm sense of humor. Ono takes closer looks at the lives of the distinguished staff of the Ristorante Casetta Dell’Orso. We see one man’s life before he took up the work of a waiter, and it’s an intriguing surprise. A married couple, regulars at the restaurant, brings their marital strife to the dining room, sparking a lot of gossip and some intriguing revelations. There’s family, friendship, romance, and food, and there are many worse ways to spend a sunny afternoon than in the company of Ono’s cast. Should you also be reading House of Five Leaves? Clearly. -David Welsh

Saturn Apartments, Vol. 3 | By Hisaw Iwaoka | Viz Media – The third volume of Saturn Apartments serves a hearty slice of sometimes disheartening, sometimes uplifting, and sometimes downright mysterious life. It seems that everyone besides the members of the window washers guild themselves think it’s a wretched occupation, and Mitsu refuses several job offers from wealth clients before ultimately being able to prove the importance of his job to a former classmate. Meanwhile, underemployed engineer Sohta begins work designing a craft with the capability to descend to Earth and thinks Mitsu might just be the perfect candidate to test it out someday. I’d say this volume is still about 90% episodic, but a 10% focus on an ongoing plot is a welcome change! -Michelle Smith

Vampire Knight, Vol. 12 | By Matsuri Hino | Viz Media – Volume twelve advances the narrative a full year ahead: Cross Academy is in shambles, Yuki’s uncle Rido is presumed dead, and Yuki is about to make her vampire society debut. The time jump is a wise decision, allowing Matsuri Hino to transition away from school-oriented plot lines while bringing different characters to the fore. As rewarding as it is to see villain Sara Shirabuki get a proper turn in the spotlight, however, Vampire Knight still suffers from a glaring problem: mediocre artwork. Hino lavishes so much attention on hairstyles and accessories that more basic design elements — background detail, panel flow, facial expressions — often feel like an afterthought. Though hardcore fans will be more focused on the relationships than on the art, readers with a more casual investment in the story may find the blandly undifferentiated character designs an impediment to following the story. -Katherine Dacey

Arisa 1 by Natsumi Ando

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From the back cover:
Tsubasa thinks that her pretty and popular twin sister, Arisa, has the perfect life. Everyone at school loves Arisa—unlike the hot-tempered Tsubasa, whose nickname is “the Demon Princess.” But when Arisa attempts suicide, Tsubasa learns that her seemingly perfect sister has been keeping some dark secrets. Now Tsubasa is going undercover at school—disguised as Arisa—in search of the truth. But will Arisa’s secrets shatter Tsubasa’s life, too?

Review:
So, you’ve read After School Nightmare and are casting about for more creepy and suspenseful school-based shoujo to consume. Have I got the manga for you!

Despite their different surnames, Tsubasa Uehara and Arisa Sonoda are twin sisters who, due to split custody arising from their parents’ divorce, have not seen each other in person for three years. They’ve kept in contact via letters, however, and tomboyish Tsubasa has envied her sister’s seemingly perfect life, as conveyed by her letters. When Arisa proposes they meet, Tsubasa is overjoyed, and she also goes along with her sister’s suggestion to pose as Arisa for the following day at school. Everything seems to go so well—Arisa is popular, respected by classmates and teachers, and has a cute boyfriend—until the end of the day when Tsubasa discovers a cryptic card in her sister’s shoe locker. “Arisa Sonoda is a traitor.”

Arisa is surprised to hear that Tsubasa had fun, and after cryptically remarking, “You don’t know their secrets… or mine,” leans backward out of the open apartment window. Trees break her fall enough that she survives, but the accident leaves her in a coma. Tsubasa, determined to find out what’s going on, returns to Arisa’s school and soon discovers a weekly ritual known as “King Time,” during which the students submit a wish to some mysterious person, who grants one per week. On this particular occasion, a pervy gym teacher is made to disappear quite effectively. When a fellow classmate questions his fate, she too receives the “traitor” notice and is thereafter bullied and ostracized. Did Arisa raise similar objections and receive the same treatment?

Mangaka Natsumi Ando handles Tsubasa’s confusion expertly, as students (particularly Arisa’s best friend, Mariko) go from chipper to menacing in the blink of an eye. Whom can she trust? Manabe, the bad boy who attacked her with a 2×4 but who also expressed a desire to destroy “the King”? Midori, Arisa’s mild-mannered and considerate boyfriend? At least she has an ally in her friend Takeru, who does some investigation on her behalf. I like how the initially friendly mood of the class breaks down into genuine creepiness, and am really looking forward to seeing how the mystery progresses from here.

The first volume of Arisa was published in English by Del Rey, but Kodansha Comics took over beginning with the second volume, which was released last Tuesday. (I’m saving that one for Wednesday’s Off the Shelf column.) The series is still ongoing in Japan, where it is currently up to seven volumes.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Moon and Blood, Vol. 1

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If Rumiko Takahashi and Kaoru Tada collaborated on a manga, the results might look a lot like Nao Yazawa’s Moon and Blood, a cheerful mish-mash of slapstick humor, romance, and light horror.

Sayaka, the protagonist, walks into her kitchen one morning to discover that a handsome, imperious teenager named Kai has taken up residence with her family. “He’s the son of an old friend,” dad explains, though no one seems to remember which friend’s son Kai might be or when Kai’s family arranged the visit. Kai promptly enrolls in Sayaka’s school, where he distinguishes himself primarily by sleeping through every class, stirring only to solve a complex equation or dunk a basketball. Though Sayaka is annoyed by her new house guest, she’s also deeply curious about his nocturnal wanderings, as he slips out of the house every night, returning only at dawn. (Gee, I wonder what he could be up to?)

For a manga that covers such familiar territory, Moon and Blood proves surprisingly nimble and charming, poking gentle fun at many of shojo mangadom’s hoariest tropes. The first chapter reads like an affectionate parody of Itazura na Kiss, as Sayaka struggles to adjust to living under the same roof as Kai — he’s as smart and smug as Itazura‘s Naoki — and tries to fend off Takeshi, her big, goofy neighbor who’s adored her since childhood. Moon and Blood also scores points for allowing the reader to figure out what’s happening, rather than relying on an omniscient narrator to explain who Kai is, and why he’s insinuated himself into Sayaka’s home. Better still, Yazawa doesn’t artificially prolong that mystery by insisting the other characters behave like willful idiots; by the end of volume one, Sayaka and her brother are both on the verge of uncovering Kai’s true identity.

Art-wise, the characters boast the same upturned noses and rubbery faces of the Itazura na Kiss gang. The notable exception is Ai, a shape-shifting vampire who looks more like one of Takahashi’s sinister child minions, with her feline eyes, doll-like clothes, and blank, bored expression. (Her cat-form, too, has a Takahashian flair; Ai wouldn’t be out of place in Rin-ne, perhaps as Rokumon’s arch-nemesis.) Though Yazawa’s linework is clean, and her use of tone sparing, Yazawa isn’t quite Tada or Takahashi’s artistic peer; her character designs aren’t as refined as either Tada or Takahashi’s, and her reaction shots distort the characters’ faces and bodies to near-abstractions.

On the whole, however, Moon and Blood is a light, entertaining read that feels like something Tada or Takahashi might have produced in the late 1980s or early 1990s. That’s not a knock on Yazawa; if anything, the story’s character-driven plotlines, bickering antagonists, and horror-lite subplot are a welcome departure from the kind of intense, sexually fraught supernatural romances that are posting big numbers on the New York Times Manga Bestseller List in 2011. Recommended.

Review copy provided by Digital Manga Publishing, Inc.

MOON AND BLOOD, VOL. 1 • BY NAO YAZAWA • DMP • 70 pp. • RATING: TEEN (13+)

Moon and Blood, Vol. 1

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If Rumiko Takahashi and Kaoru Tada collaborated on a manga, the results might look a lot like Nao Yazawa’s Moon and Blood, a cheerful mish-mash of slapstick humor, romance, and light horror.

Sayaka, the protagonist, walks into her kitchen one morning to discover that a handsome, imperious teenager named Kai has taken up residence with her family. “He’s the son of an old friend,” dad explains, though no one seems to remember which friend’s son Kai might be or when Kai’s family arranged the visit. Kai promptly enrolls in Sayaka’s school, where he distinguishes himself primarily by sleeping through every class, stirring only to solve a complex equation or dunk a basketball. Though Sayaka is annoyed by her new house guest, she’s also deeply curious about his nocturnal wanderings, as he slips out of the house every night, returning only at dawn. (Gee, I wonder what he could be up to?)

For a manga that covers such familiar territory, Moon and Blood proves surprisingly nimble and charming, poking gentle fun at many of shojo mangadom’s hoariest tropes. The first chapter reads like an affectionate parody of Itazura na Kiss, as Sayaka struggles to adjust to living under the same roof as Kai — he’s as smart and smug as Itazura‘s Naoki — and tries to fend off Takeshi, her big, goofy neighbor who’s adored her since childhood. Moon and Blood also scores points for allowing the reader to figure out what’s happening, rather than relying on an omniscient narrator to explain who Kai is, and why he’s insinuated himself into Sayaka’s home. Better still, Yazawa doesn’t artificially prolong that mystery by insisting the other characters behave like willful idiots; by the end of volume one, Sayaka and her brother are both on the verge of uncovering Kai’s true identity.

Art-wise, the characters boast the same upturned noses and rubbery faces of the Itazura na Kiss gang. The notable exception is Ai, a shape-shifting vampire who looks more like one of Takahashi’s sinister child minions, with her feline eyes, doll-like clothes, and blank, bored expression. (Her cat-form, too, has a Takahashian flair; Ai wouldn’t be out of place in Rin-ne, perhaps as Rokumon’s arch-nemesis.) Though Yazawa’s linework is clean, and her use of tone sparing, Yazawa isn’t quite Tada or Takahashi’s artistic peer; her character designs aren’t as refined as either Tada or Takahashi’s, and her reaction shots distort the characters’ faces and bodies to near-abstractions.

On the whole, however, Moon and Blood is a light, entertaining read that feels like something Tada or Takahashi might have produced in the late 1980s or early 1990s. That’s not a knock on Yazawa; if anything, the story’s character-driven plotlines, bickering antagonists, and horror-lite subplot are a welcome departure from the kind of intense, sexually fraught supernatural romances that are posting big numbers on the New York Times Manga Bestseller List in 2011. Recommended.

Review copy provided by Digital Manga Publishing, Inc.

MOON AND BLOOD, VOL. 1 • BY NAO YAZAWA • DMP • 70 pp. • RATING: TEEN (13+)

Shugo Chara! 1-9 by Peach-Pit

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Shugo Chara! has all the basic requirements for a magical girl series: costume changes, loads of sparkles and hearts, and a focus on dreams, believing in one another, and protecting the people one cares about. And yet somehow, it doesn’t feel generic at all!

The main character is Amu Hinamori, a shy fourth grader who, because of her awkward communication skills, comes off as tough and cool. As a result, her classmates admire her but keep their distance. One day, Amu wishes for the courage to “be reborn as the person I want to be,” and the next morning, she wakes up with three brightly colored eggs in her bed. One by one, the eggs hatch into Guardian Characters. There’s perky Ran, who is good at sports; level-headed Miki, who is good at artistic endeavors; and sweet Su, who is good at domestic tasks, especially cooking. Each one represents something that Amu would like to be, and can lend these traits to her as needed.

Eventually, Amu is invited to join a group at her elementary school known as the Guardians. Each of the other students has a Guardian Character of their own, and soon they become involved in fending off the efforts of an evil corporation known as Easter, who is extracting heart’s eggs from children (these represent their dreams for the future) and casually destroying them in their search for a particular wish-granting egg known as the Embryo. This aspect of the story reminds me of Sailor Moon, specifically the S season, where the villains are targeting victims with pure hearts and extracting their “pure heart crystals,” which are then examined to see whether they happen to be a “talisman.”

So far, the action in Shugo Chara! has spanned nearly two years (it’s the winter break of Amu’s sixth-grade year in volume nine) and is paced very well. The Guardians go up against Easter time and time again, but actually make progress—usually by reforming its operatives by reminding them of their own dreams—instead of being stuck in a “monster of the week” loop. New characters come and go, characters harbor and hint at their secrets, and everyone powers up at a believable rate of speed. Of course, Amu is the awesomest, eventually hatching a fourth Guardian Egg, and has the most power and tranformation potential, but this is somehow never irritating, nor is the fact that several boys fall for her over the course of the series.

The interpersonal relationships between the kids are also important. Amu has long had a crush on Tadase, the “king” figure of the Guardians, and though he initially rejects her, then goes through a period where he’s infatuated by one of her transformations, he eventually comes to return her feelings. Complicating matters is Ikuto, the tortured high school senior who’s being manipulated by Easter into doing their bidding. Amu can’t help but be interested in him, and he’s certainly flirty enough in his own right, but this brings about conflict with Tadase, who hates Ikuto due to an incident that occurred before the beginning of the series.

Friendship is equally important. Amu quickly becomes close with Nadeshiko, the “queen” of the Guardians, but Nadeshiko has a secret that she still hasn’t shared with Amu, and which might damage their friendship. Rima, who replaces Nadeshiko as queen after the latter departs to study dance abroad, is rather obnoxious at first, but once Amu understands where she’s coming from, a friendship begins to develop between them that allows Rima to enjoy her life more. A similar thing occurs with Utau, Ikuto’s little sister, who worked with Easter for a time in an effort to save her brother.

Even while expertly managing a long-term plot and evolving character relationships, Shugo Chara! doesn’t forget that a magical girl series needs a lot of cute. As mentioned, sparkles and hearts abound, as do feathers and twinkly crystals, like the Humpty Lock Amu carries, which matches the Dumpty Key in Ikuto’s possession. Sometimes things are carried to a silly extreme, though, particularly in the realm of the Character Transformations, which occur when a child merges with one of their Guardian Characters. Yaya, the youngest and most immature of the Guardians, wishes to forever remain a pampered baby, so her character transformation is suitably ridiculous, with a bib and a mysteriously large posterior. Her attack moves involve rubber duckies and mobiles. Tadase, meanwhile, transforms into a frilly and ruffled princely personage known as Platinum Royale. Hands up if you think that sounds like a stripper name!

Ultimately, Shugo Chara! is a lot of fun to read. It’s the perfect shoujo blend of feelings and fighting, and emphasizes the importance of figuring out one’s own goals and desires. Though the series is rated for ages 13+ (presumably because of the slightly steamy interaction between Amu and Ikuto), it would probably be suitable for kids the same age as its protagonists.

Shugo Chara! was originally published in English by Del Rey, who put out the first nine volumes. Kodansha Comics then took over releasing the series, the tenth volume of which just came out on May 10th. (I’m saving that one for an Off the Shelf column on Wednesday.) The series is complete in Japan with twelve volumes, and will wrap up in the US in September. Kodansha has also licensed Shugo Chara Chan!, a spin-off four-panel manga, which will debut in November.

Review copies for volumes seven and nine provided by Del Rey.

License Request: Crazy for You

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I contributed a guest license request to David Welsh’s weekly feature at his blog, Manga Curmudgeon. My pick was Crazy for You, a six-volume shoujo series by Karuho Shiina, creator of Kimi ni Todoke: From Me to You, a series which I adore.

I don’t expect to love Crazy for You to the same extent, but it certainly sounds interesting! Check out the post for more details. In the meantime, I’ve got the German editions (published by TOKYOPOP!) on their way here, and will be getting my Google Translate on something fierce.

Your Story I’ve Known by Tsuta Suzuki

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While I’d stop short of calling myself an actual fan of A Strange and Mystifying Story, it was at least interesting and I found Tsuta Suzuki’s distinct art style very appealing. When the opportunity to read another work from her arose, therefore, I was eager to seize it.

You can find my review for Manga Bookshelf’s BL Bookrack column here.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

License request day: Crazy for You

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This week’s license request comes courtesy of Michelle (Soliloquy in Blue) Smith, frequent and always welcome Manga Bookshelf contributor.

Whenever I ponder license requests, in addition to a few classics that always make the list, I’m often drawing upon creators whose current work I enjoy. Sometimes this strategy backfires—neither Portrait of M & N nor Tsubasa: Those with Wings was as good as their creators’ more famous series—but still I persist. And that is why I would love to see Crazy for You (an earlier series by Karuho Shiina, the mangaka behind Kimi ni Todoke: From Me to You) licensed for US release.

I first read about Crazy for You (complete in six volumes) on Emily’s Random Shoujo Manga Page, which is rich with license request fodder. Here’s some of what she had to say about it:

This story revolves around the tangled relationships between a group of five friends. The focus is on a a cute, naive girl named Sachi (or “Sa-chan”). Sachi is silly and innocent and friendly. She had a very “genuine” personality. What you see is what you get. Sachi doesn’t have a boyfriend, but would like one (going to an all-girls school makes finding a boyfriend difficult), so when she is asked if she would like to go to a “goukon” (a group date) she jumps at the chance. At the goukon, Sachi meets a lively and cute boy named Yuki. Sachi falls for Yuki at first sight, and they get along very well. They both have energetic personalities. Yuki thinks Sachi is cute, and seems to really like her.

Every day, Sachi finds herself falling more and more for Yuki, and her affection is very obvious to everyone around her, including Yuki. However, while Yuki does like her, there is some sort of barrier between them. Yuki is holds himself back and will only see Sachi as a friend. When a secret from Yuki’s past comes to light, and a relationship is revealed, the group of friends is thrown into turmoil. Bonds are strained or broken, betrayal is felt, and everyone must re-evaluate how they feel about each other.

Cute romance is all well and good, but cute romance coupled with secrets and turmoil? Sign me up!

Surprisingly, this appears to be one series the French don’t have yet, but the Germans do. In fact, their editions have a very familiar logo on the spine! Within about three hours of making this discovery, a German set of these books was on their way to me (Google Translate, here I come!) but I’d still much rather have a set in English.

So, how about it, VIZ?

(Guest license requests are always welcome.)

 

BL Bookrack: May

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Welcome to the May installment of BL Bookrack, a monthly feature co-written with Soliloquy in Blue‘s Michelle Smith.

This month, we take a look at three offerings from Digital Manga Publishing’s Juné imprint, The Color of Love, That Was Good, and Your Story I’ve Known, as well as a rare offering from Yen Press, volume two of Tale of the Waning Moon.

The Color of Love | By Kiyo Ueda | Published by Juné | Rated Mature (18+) | Buy at Akadot – Although we generally review new releases for these BL Bookrack columns, I wanted to take the opportunity to check out The Color of Love (released in 2008), as it is among several DMP works recently pulled from Amazon for violating their content requirements. After reading the book, it is hard to see why it was targeted, when much more explicit BL—Under Grand Hotel, anyone?—is still available for purchase.

Like many BL releases, The Color of Love is a collection of short stories. Most of them, including the title story, feature pairs of friends who are in love with each other but concerned about what this will mean for their friendship. In “The Color of Love,” Nao is worried that his best friend Taira might learn about his “wicked thoughts,” and so helps a classmate cover up her romance with a teacher by posing as her boyfriend. Taira is demonstrably jealous, and a confession ensues.

In “The Ideal Love,” a recent college graduate with a particular type gradually realizes that his former classmate might just be the perfect match. In “How to Be Happy,” Kouta can’t quite believe that his best friend, Kazuyuki, has confessed his love since Kazuyuki rejected him back in high school. In “Mix,” Yoshino can’t reconcile Yamazaki his best friend with Yamazaki his boyfriend, so removes his glasses during intimate moments to make his partner look like a blurry stranger. In “Friendship Formula,” Nitta attempts to cheer up a jilted (straight) classmate by confessing his own feelings. The one exception to this theme is “Direction of a Smile,” depicting a romance between a hotel front desk manager and a bellboy.

In all of these stories, the characters involved care about each other very much. Are they depicted in the act of sex? Well, yes, but it’s generally only a panel or two showing bodies locked together lovingly. The Color of Love is no more explicit than your average BL manga and actually far less explicit than many. I suspect that whoever filed the complaint didn’t get past the first page, which, admittedly, devotes its first couple of panels to Nao enjoying a private moment whilst indulging in those “wicked thoughts” of his. This might give an undeserved impression of overall smuttiness.

So, don’t let Amazon’s actions fool you. In reality, The Color of Love is far more nice than naughty.

-Review by Michelle Smith

Tale of the Waning Moon | By Hyouta Fujiyama | Published by Yen Press | Rated Mature (18+) | Buy at Amazon – Memory is a funny thing. When the second volume of Houta Fujiyama’s Tale of the Waning Moon arrived at my doorstep, my first reaction was “ugh.” I’d remembered clearly reviewing the first volume, at which time I’d declared it, “…unrealistic, essentially plotless, outrageously fluffy” and most emphatically, “Not My Kind of Yaoi.” What I apparently forgot between then and now, however, is that I also called it “energetic,” and “genuinely funny,” qualities I’m unfortunately having difficulty attributing to the series’ second volume.

Though this manga first won me over with its simultaneous satire of common BL tropes and RPG-style questing, Fujiyama’s sly humor doesn’t wear all that well. The questing in particular has begun to lose its luster, as the characters are sent out on a seemingly endless journey to acquire a series of objects required to get our hero, Ryuka, to his celestial destination, and what once read as sharp humor now resembles too closely the very things it strives to lampoon.

The same can be said for the series’ campy, everyone-is-gay landscape, which risks outright earnestness in this volume—a trait that should never be blended with scantily-clad cat boys. And were jokes about constipation ever funny? Perhaps I missed the memo.

That said, there’s a consistent sense here that the comic is in good hands. Even at her worst, Fujiyama writes smoothly and confidently, stringing us along with the promise of better things.

Will she make good on that promise in volume three? We live in hope.

-Review by MJ

That Was Good | By CJ Michalski | Published by Juné | Rated Mature (18+) | Buy at Akadot – When I go into a BL anthology, I’m always expecting the worst. Questionable plot, shoddy characterization, outrageously rushed romance—these things are standard in any romance anthology. It’s almost guaranteed. Also common in this type of BL is humor so broad it borders on homophobia. Oh, and don’t forget: lots and lots of smut.

That Was Good has everything I just described and more. Its three stories each feature a previously heterosexual, dashing hunk who falls for a (questionably heterosexual) boyish beauty whom he forces into sex, but it’s okay ’cause HE’S IN LOVE. Other special features here include grown men making jokes about eating sausage to a toddler who catches them in bed, and vampire/elf cosplay, though I’ll admit the latter offers up the only genuine bit of humor in the entire book. Skip to the cosplay, people, just skip to the cosplay.

If I sound a bit sarcastic and jaded… okay, yeah, I’m feeling slightly bitter over having read the whole thing. Thing is, it was listed as an anthology, so I should have known better.

Michalski’s straightforward artwork is more crisp than expressive, though she at least depicts sex more deftly than some. This can’t save the book by any means, but it’s perhaps enough reason to read for the porn. Overall, however, the title is sadly ironic. That Was Good is one to miss.

-Review by MJ

Your Story I’ve Known | By Tsuta Suzuki | Published by Juné | Rated YA (16+) | Buy at Akadot – Although I’d stop short of calling myself an outright fan of Tsuta Suzuki’s series, A Strange and Mystifying Story—sexual healing as administered by guardian beast isn’t really my thing—it is nonetheless memorable, and I’ve been looking forward to reading Your Story I’ve Known ever since the license was announced.

There aren’t any supernatural elements in these stories, which I consider a good thing. The first three stories, including the title piece, depict the relationship between Hart Matsumoto, a dim-witted but handsome boy with an abusive mother, and a yakuza named Shibuzawa, who was the kindest of his mother’s many boyfriends. Shibuzawa provides a safe place for Hart to go when his mother turns violent and continues to look after him into young adulthood.

Although he’s aware of Hart’s feelings for him, Shibuzawa maintains a policy of gentle discouragement until Hart’s mother is killed. Somehow, Shibuzawa ends up in bed with Hart—as consolation, perhaps? Giving the boy what he’s always wanted while withholding the upsetting news? Shibuzawa’s motivations here are quite complex, and it’s a shame that the story of his relationship with Hart wraps up quickly thereafter.

A similar problem plagues the next story in the collection, “Sautéed Onions,” a mostly forgettable story of two friends who’ve recently become a couple and are feeling insecure about the other’s feelings. It’s not bad, but it’s so short that there’s no chance whatsoever to get to know either of the characters. “As Long As You Can Hear Me,” about a fight-prone kid and the samurai ghost who protects him, fares somewhat better.

The real gem of the collection is the final story, “Without the Gods Seeing.” When Narasaki was in high school, he reacted harshly to a friend’s confession of love, and in the intervening ten years, has come to regret that he responded the way he did. When Wakakki, a handsome coworker, makes his own confession, Narasaki reacts more thoughtfully, taking the time to talk to Wakakki about his feelings and gaining new perspective on how much bravery is required to make such an admission to a friend.

It’s a really sweet story and Suzuki makes good use of her pages, painting Narasaki’s and Wakakki’s characters in quick strokes that define their personalities reasonably well. I absolutely love, for example, that it was Narasaki’s habit of feeding neighborhood kitties on his lunch break that caught Wakakki’s eye in the first place.

While a couple of the stories are disappointingly brief, on the whole this is an enjoyable collection, complemented by Suzuki’s unique artistic style. I’m not sure whether devotees of A Strange and Mystifying Story would find it to their liking, since it is quite different, but I’d personally rate it the better of the two.

-Review by Michelle Smith

Review copies provided by the publisher.

Making 2011 Eisner book

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There’s just under a month left for eligible voters to cast their ballots for the 2011 Will Eisner Comic Industry Awards, so I thought I’d take another stab at evaluating the odds of this year’s nominees in the Best U.S. Edition of International Material – Asia. First, here’s a list of winners in this category from the last few years:

  • 2010: A Drifting Life, written and illustrated by Yoshihiro Tatsumi, Drawn & Quarterly
  • 2009: Dororo, written and illustrated by Osamu Tezuka, Vertical
  • 2008: Tekkonkinkreet, written and illustrated by Taiyo Matsumoto, Viz
  • 2007: Old Boy, written by Garon Tsuchiya and illustrated by Nobuaki Minegishi, Dark Horse

And here are some manga titles that have won the Best U.S. of International Material before it split into two categories:

  • 2005: Buddha, written and illustrated by Tezuka, Vertical
  • 2004: Buddha
  • 2002: Akira, written and illustrated by Katsuhiro Otomo, Dark Horse
  • 2001: Lone Wolf and Cub, written by Kazuo Koike and illustrated by Goseki Kojima, Dark Horse
  • 2000: Blade of the Immortal, written and illustrated by Hiroaki Samura, Dark Horse
  • 1998: Gon Swimmin’, written and illustrated by Masashi Tanaka, Paradox Press

The last three years indicate a leaning towards stand-alone or shorter series, but looking at the history of the category shows that lengthy, sprawling series aren’t necessarily at a disadvantage. Voters have a perfectly understandable appreciation of the work of Tezuka. Given that all of the honored comics are by men and were originally published in magazines that targeted a male demographic, one might also indicate a certain leaning in that direction. One can also detect a leaning toward series that have loyal readerships in comic shops. It seems less true in recent years, perhaps partly because of a seeming contraction of manga sales in those venues.

Now, on to this year’s contenders:

Ayako, written and illustrated by Tezuka, Vertical: If we add the fondness for Tezuka with the recent leaning toward done-in-one titles, we would be very foolish indeed to discount the odds on Ayako. That said I don’t consider it one of Tezuka’s best works. I found it too bleak and too literal, but bleakness and literalism has never discouraged Eisner voters in the past, and the automatic (and deserved) prestige of a Tezuka title is considerable. Even voters who don’t read any comics from Asia likely know who Tezuka is, and name recognition is sometimes the voter’s best friend. Odds: 2 to 1.

Bunny Drop, written and illustrated by Yumi Unita, Yen Press: Marvelous as it is to see a josei title garner a nomination, I think the outcome here will be that it’s an honor just to be nominated. That’s in no way a qualitative evaluation of Bunny Drop, which is easily one of my favorite ongoing series currently in release. I just doubt that it has much of a crossover audience between readers who primarily enjoy comics from Japan or Asia and the Eisner voting pool at large. If the nomination has encouraged more people to read the series, then that’s as good as a win, in my opinion. Odds: 25 to 1.

A Drunken Dream and Other Stories, written and illustrated by Moto Hagio, Fantagraphics: Ask a pool of manga pundits which mangaka suffers most from a shortage of work in translation, and I would wager that Hagio would be very close to the top of the list that emerges from that discussion. Like Tezuka, I think there’s a general level of awareness of and reverence for Hagio, even among people who may not have read her work. She’s a quality brand, in other words, and that standing has a certain force. Fantagraphics is also a quality brand, even among people who don’t read much that they produce, so an endorsement of Hagio in the form of publishing a handsome collection of her work, combined with Hagio’s own qualities as a creator and her well-received 2010 visit to the home convention of the Eisners may well work in her favor. Odds: 5 to 1.

House of Five Leaves, written and illustrated by Natsume Ono, Viz: I’m never quite sure how much my assessment of Ono as an emerging presence among the comic cognoscenti is accurate and how much is an experiment in the power of positive thinking, but I’m very pleased to see her nominated in this category, even if I don’t think she’ll win. House of Five Leaves is one of those titles that are intriguing at their beginnings but really gain in strength and force as they go along. If a voter was basing his or her choice on the first volume, I don’t know how that sampling would hold up against the other nominees. It’s not a flashy or immediately arresting series, lovely as it is. As noted above, ongoing series shouldn’t be discounted, but ongoing series that rely on cumulative artistic effect may not fare as well. Odds: 20 to 1.

20th Century Boys, written and illustrated by Naoki Urasawa, Viz: Urasawa has three nominations this year (the others being in the Writer/Artist category and Best Ongoing Series for this title), which is about standard for him since Viz started releasing his work through its Signature imprint. He has yet to win. Perhaps the multiple nominations split the sentiment in his favor. Perhaps voters don’t like his work as much as nominating committees do. Given the sheer volume of nominations he’s received over the last five years or so, he should clearly have cemented standing as a quality brand by now, and his smart thrillers are as comic-shop friendly as anything in this year’s slate. I personally like 20th Century Boys best of any of Urasawa’s licensed works, so I would have no objection whatsoever to its winning. History suggests to me that it probably won’t. Odds: 10 to 1.

What do you think? If you could vote, which title would you choose? (In my perfect world, A Drunken Dream and Other Stories and Bunny Drop would tie.)