Manga Bookshelf

Discussion, Resources, Roundtables, & Reviews

Katherine Dacey

The Manga Revue, 8/13/18

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There are two kinds of people: those who like to camp, and those who don’t. I fall squarely in the second category — not because I hate the great outdoors, but because I’m fond of hot showers and comfy beds. Still, the prospect of reading a manga about camping intrigued me: is camping popular in Japan? Is the s’more a hit in Japan, too? And what about bears? Laid-Back Camp didn’t answer all of my questions, but it definitely earned a spot on my pull list. Read on for details.

Laid-Back Camp, Vol. 1
Story and Art by Afro
Translation by Amber Tamosaitis
Yen Press, 178 pp.
Rated T, for Teen

Laid-Back Camp may be the most quintessentially Japanese thing I’ve read this year: it features cute girls doing cute things while imparting information about camping gear. There’s no real plot to speak of, just a meet-cute in the first chapter that introduces seasoned camper Rin to enthusiastic newbie Nadeshiko. Through one of those only-in-manga coincidences, Rin and Nadeshiko attend the same school, where two other girls — Aoi and Chiaki — are struggling to recruit members for their Outdoor Exploration Club. You can guess what happens next: Nadeshiko joins the club and, by dint of her Golden Retriever personality, brings the skeptical Rin into the fold.

Each chapter is built around a skill, a piece of equipment, or a location. In “Mount Fuji and Cup Ramen,” for example, Rin explains how to build the perfect campfire, calling dried pine cones “nature’s premier fire starter,” while in “You Can Only Go Camping If You Have the Gear,” the Outdoor Exploration Club pores over catalogs, debating the merits of down and synthetic sleeping bags. These passages are deftly woven into the fabric of each story, playing a natural part of the girls’ conversations as they plan camping trips. Dashes of humor and breath-taking scenery add welcome nuance to the storytelling, preventing it from tipping into edu-manga dullness or yon-koma hijinks. Best of all, Rin is a genuinely interesting character, a small, self-sufficient kid who likes solo camping trips. Though volume one doesn’t explain how she caught the camping bug, author Afro has done such a good job of fleshing out Rin it doesn’t matter; we can see how someone so introspective and independent would welcome the opportunity to be alone in nature. Recommended, even for those who prefer the Great Indoors.

Must-Read Reviews

NerdSpan’s Keith Hendricks has quickly become one of my favorite manga critics, bringing the same enthusiasm and insight to comics as different as Master Keaton and Kakagurui: Compulsive Gambler. His recent review of Astra Lost in Space, for example, offers this thoughtful assessment of Kenta Shinohara’s draftsmanship:

Shinohara’s planets are such magnificent fictive ecospheres, and his examples of imaginary science so instantly credible, that one takes him not only for a mangaka, but an authority on exobiology and exogeology. Shinohara builds these planets from the ground up, so that one has an idea of not only their climate, and the evolution of their biosphere, but the physical and astronomical data of the planet; and even when these aren’t directly stated, one gets the idea that they’re under the surface somewhere. Moreover, these planets would only be slightly more believable if he had photographs, for he is an excellent line artist not only of teenagers and sci-fi hardware–common skills in comic book creators–but of alien lifeforms and alien worlds.

Also worth reading is Martin de la Iglesia‘s essay “Has AKIRA Always Been a Cyberpunk Comic?”, an in-depth look at the manga’s reception in the US and Germany.

New and Noteworthy

Ongoing Series

From the Vault

* Denotes a digital-first or digital-only release.

 

Pick of the Week: Sleepy Blue Skies

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SEAN: I’ve heard good things about That Blue-Sky Feeling, but feel fairly confident the rest of the team will be weighing in on that one. So my pick this week is Accomplishments of a Duke’s Daughter. I’m a sucker for isekai with a female lead, and this one has the basic premise of the heroine ending up in the otome game she’s played… as the main antagonist. Should be great fun.

MICHELLE: I don’t read much in the isekai genre, but Accomplishments of a Duke’s Daughter might be the exception. Still, Sean is right that I’m most eager to read That Blue-Sky Feeling. Slice-of-life sounds like just the thing.

ASH: Sean has me pegged, too! While as always there are multiple releases that interest me this week, That Blue Sky Feeling is without a doubt my pick. I’ve likewise heard great things about this thoughtful and sweet gay coming-of-age story.

KATE: Since it’s been hot and sticky this week, my vote is for fun. I’ll be picking up the third volume of Toppu GP, which I’ve been enjoying despite my total lack of interest in motorcycles, and the second volume of Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle, which I just reviewed and adored.

ANNA: Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle Volume 2 for me as well! I’m in the mood for a pleasant diversion, and I enjoy the way this fantasy comedy manga subverts the familiar trope of a princess in distress.

Denpa Announces First Acquisitions

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For those of you wondering what Ed Chavez‘s next act would be, I’m happy to say that he’s graduated from publicist to publisher! Chavez appeared at Otakon this weekend to announce a new manga initiative: Denpa, LLC, which will focus on the kind of cool, edgy, and weird material that bigger companies shy away from. Among the titles Denpa has licensed for the US market are Asumiko Nakamura’s romance anthology Maiden Railways, Nobuyuki Fukumoto’s gambling manga Kaiji, and Shuzo Oshimi’s body-swap drama Inside Mari, as well as an artbook by Range Murata (Last Exile). Denpa’s website is still under development, but the company’s Twitter account just went live this morning. My only question: when will Denpa license some beer manga? (Via @MangaMogura)

MANGA AND MOVIE LINKS

The Harvey Awards has eliminated its Best American Edition of Foreign Material category in favor of two new awards: Best European Book and Best Manga. Among this year’s nominees for Best Manga are My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness and My Hero Academia. [Anime News Network]

According to ICv2’s Fall 2017 sale data, the most valuable manga franchise in the US is Tokyo Ghoul. Other strong performers include My Hero Academia, Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, The Legend of Zelda, and Berserk. [ICv2]

Headed to the beach for a late summer break? Brigid Alverson has a round-up of August’s best new manga, from Slum Wolf to That Sky Blue Feeling. [B&N Sci-Fi & Fantasy Blog]

Over at Hakutaku, Mel explores “The Ethereal Worlds of Keiko Takemiya,” one of the Year 24 Group’s most distinctive creators. [Hakutaku]

Tomoko Saito profiles Hokuei, a small town in Tottori Prefecture that’s become a mecca for Detective Conan fans. Why? Among other things, Hokuei is home to Conan‘s creator, Gosho Aoyama. [Asahi Shimbun]

Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle, Vol. 1

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Since one in four Americans suffer from insomnia, it seems like there’s a natural market for Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle, a manga about a character so determined to get a good night’s sleep that she’d risk death or dismemberment for forty winks. Sleepy Princess plays the title character’s insomnia for laughs, however, turning the heroine’s quest for the perfect mattress into a light-hearted romp, rather than an expensive ordeal involving black-out curtains, melatonin, and meditation videos. That the story is fun and breezy is nothing short of a miracle, though older readers may experience a twinge of jealously at Princess Syalis’ ability to fall asleep anywhere, anytime.

Author Kagiji Kumanomata handles the set-up with great economy: in just two pages, we learn the Demon King has kidnapped Syalis in a bid to conquer the human world. Though the Demon King stashes Syalis in a dungeon populated by fearsome beasts, Syalis quickly sizes up the situation and makes it work to her advantage. “Since I’m hostage, the Demon King has no intention of harming me,” she notes. “I have no duties to take care of here… And the food’s pretty tasty!” The one drawback to her new digs? “I haven’t been able to get a good night’s rest since I was brought here!” she exclaims.

A chance encounter with teddy demons leads to her first epiphany: her captors’ fur is the ideal stuffing for a comfy pillow. (No teddy demons are harmed in the process.) Before long, Syalis is roaming the castle in search of softer sheets, mosquito netting, and a more natural light source, the better to regulate her body’s circadian rhythms. Her dogged efforts to sleep longer or more soundly confound her jailers, who are astonished at how brazenly she takes what she needs; Syalis dies at least three times in her quest for the perfect sleep accessories. (Don’t worry; a handsome demon cleric is on hand to resurrect her mangled body.)

As with other one-joke manga, Sleepy Princess occasionally strains for laughs; an episode involving poison mushrooms falls flat, as does a spoof of Princess Knight. The chapters’ brevity helps keep the story from bogging down in bad jokes, as does Kumanomata’s consummate attention to detail; there’s always something funny happening, even if the gags are buried in the background or lurking on the edges of the page. An artful adaptation by Annette Roman helps bridge the translation divide, as do Susan Daigle-Leach’s marvelous sound effects. (If you’ve ever wondered what a posse of demon teddy bears might sound like, she’s got you covered.) Best of all, Kumanomata has barely scratched the surface when it comes to insomnia, leaving the door open for future quests, from finding the right bedtime snack to finding the right temperature for sleeping. Recommended.

SLEEPY PRINCESS IN THE DEMON CASTLE, VOL. 1 • BY KAGIJI KUMANOMATA • TRANSLATION BY TETSUICHIRO MITAYKI • ADAPTATION BY ANNETTE ROMAN • TOUCH-UP ART AND LETTERING BY SUSAN DAIGLE-LEACH • 174 pp. • RATED TEEN (13+) FOR FANTASY VIOLENCE

The Manga Revue: Back in the Saddle Edition

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Welcome back! It’s been almost six weeks since I posted the last Manga Revue, so I’m dedicating today’s column to reviews, essays, podcasts and videos from around the web. Though I’ll be focusing primarily on recent posts, I’ve also thrown in links to a few older articles that are worth a second look, like Hakutaku’s brief but thoughtful essay on the Magnificient 49ers and Katrina Jagleski’s “My trans experience with My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness.” Going forward, I hope to update the site more frequently with reviews and link posts, so stay tuned.

MUST-READ/MUST SEE MANGA REVIEWS

If you didn’t read all of this year’s Eisner-nominated manga, check out Brigid Alverson‘s capsule reviews of all five titles, from Golden Kamuy to Otherworld Barbara. Over at Good Comics for Kids, J. Caleb Mozzocco has the low-down on Sacrificial Princess and the King of Beasts while fellow critic Lori Henderson weighs in on Juana and the Dragonewt’s Seven Kingdoms. Also worth a look is The Cambridge Geek’s review of Shibuya Goldfish, which praises creator Hiroumi Aoi for adding a few fresh wrinkles to the zombie genre.

If you’re more of a YouTube consumer, check out The Black Manga Critic‘s thoughts on the latest chapters of The Promised Neverland, My Hero Academia, and One Piece, and be sure to congratulate him on two years of vlogging! And for folks who prefer listening to reviews, download the latest Comics Alternative podcast, which focuses on My Solo Exchange Diary and Grand Blue Dreaming, or the newest Manga in Your Ears episode, which focuses on Heart of Thomas and Go for It, Nakamura!

NEW AND NOTEWORTHY

ONGOING SERIES

FROM THE VAULT

Pick of the Week: Our Favorite Yearly Pick

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MICHELLE: It’s the first week of August and that can mean only one thing: my annual opportunity to pick Kaze Hikaru! I am also super excited about the new volume of What Did You Eat Yesterday?, however.

ASH: As Sean recently noted, there’s lots and lots and lots being released this week. Shoujo, shonen, seinen, and even josei manga are all represented and I’m reading SO MUCH of it. However, the release that I’m perhaps most interested in this week actually isn’t manga at all but Shinsuke Nakamura’s autobiography King of Strong Style.

SEAN: I suspect Anna will also be picking Kaze Hikaru, so I’ll pitch in for her and make my pick the lucky 13th volume of Yona of the Dawn. Every volume deserves to be read and reread, like a favorite childhood story. I love it to bits.

ANNA: It is such a tough choice because I love Kaze Hikaru and Yona of the Dawn so much! But with only one volume of Kaze Hikaru coming out a year, I have to take the opportunity to highlight it whenever I can. It is such a great, underappreciated series.

KATE: Kaze Hikaru. ‘Nuff said.

Shibuya Goldfish, Vol. 1

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Shibuya Goldfish falls somewhere along the horror continuum between Sharknado 3 and Jaws: it’s too competently executed to be a guilty pleasure but too predictable to be genuinely scary. Though the premise screams Roger Corman, author Hiroumi Aoi settles for a pedestrian approach to the material, trapping his cast in a high-rise shopping center where death lurks around every corner. There are a few glimmers of imagination here and there, but the overall result lacks the visceral punch, humor, or sheer imagination of other entries in the Killer Fish genre.

The story begins in media res, with a shot of Hachiko — Shibuya’s most famous statue — stained in blood. We then cut to an image of a panting, wild-eyed teen staring incredulously at a monstrous goldfish feasting on a pedestrian in the middle of a busy street. “That day was the first time I ever saw someone die,” Hajime solemnly informs us, before a flashback reveals what led up to this gruesome scene.

I won’t lie: those opening pages are a tantalizing hook for a horror buff. Though Aoi doesn’t reveal where the goldfish came from, he sells the Fish-Gone-Wild concept by emphasizing the predators’ size, numbers, and blank-eyed stares, making us appreciate the sheer incongruity of Volkswagen-sized fish swarming through an urban landscape. The goldfish’s penchant for uttering recognizable phrases — “I’m home, mom,” one burbles — adds another layer of mystery to their existence: are they truly sentient or are they merely ghosts, back to haunt the owners that flushed them down the toilet?

Where Shibuya Goldfish falls short is the human dimension. Hajime is the only character who’s properly fleshed out, an earnest, slightly awkward high school student whose dreams of becoming a filmmaker are dashed by the catastrophe. The other characters are more placeholders than people, dropped into the story to generate conflict or provide useful information about goldfish behavior before dying. In recognition of their liminal status, Aoi only bestows names on a small fraction of the cast, one of whom — the beautiful, bitchy Chitose Fukakusa — is such a vile male fantasy that the introduction of two more competent, sincere female characters in chapters two and three barely erase the memory of Fukakusa’s manipulative behavior and panty flashes.

The other fundamental issue with Shibuya Goldfish is the artwork, which juxtaposes photo-realistic backgrounds and fish with generic character designs. The tension between these two modes of representation ends up robbing volume one’s creepiest scenes of their dramatic impact, as the full horror of what happens to several characters is muted by Aoi’s blandly rendered faces and bodies; the grotesque bodily deformations that make Junji Ito, Hideshi Hino, and Kanako Inuki’s work so arresting barely elicit a “yuck!” in Aoi’s hands. It’s a pity these moments don’t land with more oomph because Shibuya Goldfish flirts with an interesting idea: the notion that a pet as small, helpless, and disposable as a goldfish might be the downfall of humanity, punishing us for our reckless treatment of other living things. Perhaps Aoi will delve into the monsters’ origins in future volumes, but the so-so execution of these foundational chapters didn’t reel me in. Your mileage will vary.

SHIBUYA GOLDFISH, VOL. 1 • BY HIROUMI AOI • TRANSLATED BY KO RANSOM • YEN PRESS • 242 pp. • RATED OT (OLDER TEEN) FOR LANGUAGE, NUDITY, AND VIOLENCE

Pick of the Week: Wandering Off the Map

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MICHELLE: There’s not much on the manga front this week that really calls to me, so instead I’ll devote my pick to a charming graphic novel that came out a couple weeks ago. The Adventure Zone: Here There Be Gerblins is adapted from a great podcast in which three brothers play Dungeons & Dragons with their dad. The graphic novel cuts out most of the out-of-character interaction and presents as more of a straightforward fantasy story, but with loads of jokes (and profanity). Also, it’s the first graphic novel to score the #1 position on the New York Times Paperback Trade Fiction list! Check it out, won’t you?

KATE: I’m with Michelle: this week’s manga list is just not ringing my bell. So I’ll use today’s column to shamelessly plug one of my favorite ongoing series, Hiromu Arakawa’s Silver Spoon. It’s funny, wise, and surprisingly serious at times, but so well done that you will laugh AND cry at least once per volume. The first three volumes are available right now, giving you a chance to catch up before volume four arrives in August. Not convinced? Here’s what I had to say about volume one.

SEAN: I will stick with the actual list, but I’ll go with prose this time around. I keep waiting for it to get so dark I lose interest, but through the last two volumes, The Saga of Tanya the Evil has proven to be an excellent, if very long, read. I look forward to the third novel.

ASH: While I certainly have plenty of reading to catch up on, it is an extremely rare week that there isn’t at least one release I’m looking forward to getting my hands on. This week that release is the most recent omnibus of I Am a Hero. Even having grown tired of the inundation of zombie media, I still find this series to be one heck of a ride.

ANNA: There isn’t much coming out this week that I’m interested in, which is good, as I’m going to use the time to get caught up on my reading. One recent release that is non-manga that I think is cool is Viz getting into translated amigurumi books! San-X Crochet Patterns is my pick.

Manhwa 100

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As a reviewer, I’ve found Manga: The Complete Guide (Del Rey), Dreamland Japan: Writings on Modern Manga (Stonebridge Press), and Manga: 60 Years of Japanese Comics (Laurence King Publishing) indispensable references, whether I’m searching for information about a series’ publication history or looking for insight into a particular artist’s style. I hoped that Manhwa 100: The New Era for Korean Comics would provide a similar perspective on the Korean comics industry. Unfortunately, Manhwa 100 turned out to be an ambitious but poorly executed attempt to highlight the medium’s most popular, influential series.

In terms of organization and metholodgy, Manhwa 100 falls somewhere between Manga: The Complete Guide and Dreamland Japan, offering summaries of one hundred books, some of which have been translated into English. Each entry includes basic information about the series’ print run (e.g. number of volumes, magazine of serialization), its author, and its crossover into other media (e.g. videogames, television programs), as well as a plot summary and an assessment of the work’s artistic merit. Entries are grouped according to audience, with sections devoted to sunjeong (girls’) comics, boys’ comics, adult comics, and “webtoons,” comics that debuted online but were later anthologized in print.

We learn in the introduction that a committee of thirty industry professionals chose the books featured in Manhwa 100. The exact selection criteria are never satisfactorily explained, though it’s obvious the committee made a concerted effort to represent a broad spectrum of styles and subjects; no artist has more than one entry devoted to her work. Most books are of recent vintage, with only a smattering of titles released in the 1970s and 1980s.

And here I have a confession to make: I was sorely tempted to call my review “Manhwa 100: Cultural Learnings of Comics for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Korea.” Why? The text is awash in awkward phrases, grammatical errors, egregious typos, and ill-advised attempts to keep it real with slangy, conversational phrases that clash violently with the prevailing tone. The entry for Blue, a title by Lee Eun-hye, is typical of the book:

Comic book characters are used in many character merchandises now, but it was [sic] not very actively used in the 1990s. However, the comics of Lee Eun-hye were widely used in character merchandises, even in the 1990s. This is because the author has the knack of using colors as one of her main themes. As she said in her own words, “color in itself is a story.”

As she proclaims in Jump Tree A+, her previous work to Blue, the teenage years are the “Green Age.” Her new story, Blue, represents the young adult age. The color blue in the comic has two sides. It represents a bright fresh side of youth, and it also represents sadness and gloom. The twenty-somethings in the comic are both fresh and youthful, but at the same time lonely and nostalgic.

A rich man’s illigitemate [sic] son Seung-pyo, passionate dancer Hae-joon, his faithful follower Yeon-woo, smart but cold Hyun-bin, and strong charismatic rocker Ha-yun: Blue revolves around these five characters. The loneliness in Blue was sprouted from self-pity and narcissism. Like in many of her other comics, author Lee Eun-hye pushes her characters into their own narcissistic world disconnected from each other.

That is why Blue is beautiful. The earnest characters express their life honestly. And the poetic narration and symbolic monologues add to its beauty. In 1997, an OST disc, inspired by the comic, was…

Yes, the entry really does end with an incomplete sentence.

If I’m reading the text correctly, this confusing verbiage could be boiled down to three talking points: (1) Lee’s manhwa was among the first to inspire “character goods” (phone cards, figurines, stationery, keychains, etc.); (2) her books feature beautifully drawn, emotionally stunted characters; and (3) her books are popular enough to be adapted into TV shows, CD dramas, and the like. Though it’s obvious she views color as a metaphor for age and mood, it’s not clear how or if she uses color in her work–a crucial point, given the increasingly important role that color is beginning to play in manhwa. It’s also unclear what distinguishes Lee’s work from other sunjeong titles, as symbolism, emotionally-charged conversation, and interior monologues are staples of the medium, not personal idiosyncrasies.

If the book synopses are frustrating, the contextual essays are downright obtuse. With titles such as “Open a Manhwa Book, Become a Friend of Korea” and “Manhwa in America: The New World of Charms Yet to be Discovered,” their stilted language and boastful claims for manhwa’s international importance make them sound like Pravda articles. Anyone hoping for insight into the differences between manhwa and manga (or other sequential art traditions, for that matter) will be frustrated by the maddeningly vague, jingoistic text which acknowledges stylistic similarities between manhwa and manga while arguing for significant differences in subject and approach. As manhwaga Lee Hyun-se explains:

While the Japanese samurai pulls out his sword for the completion of his skill, the Korean warrior draws his sword in revenge of his family or to fight against his or her sworn enemy. The Japanese hero walks the glorified path of the hero, which is as clear as the blood he spills, but the Korean hero trudges, stumbling upon his own defects.

Lee attributes the difference in approach to Korea’s lengthy history of occupation, contrasting it with Japan’s long period of isolationism and political intrigue. “The endless internal strife of the Japanese builds up a sense of hubris and elitism,” he argues, “while being on the defense instills a sense of humility and compassion for others… The hero of Japanese manga is ‘I’ while the hero in Korean manhwa is ‘We.’” It’s an interesting but flawed thesis, akin to suggesting that Howard’s End and Finnegan’s Wake are utterly different because one was written by a British imperialist and the other by a downtrodden Irishman. Lee seems to forget that avenging one’s family (or village, or sweetheart, or mentor) is one of the most basic manga plotlines, transcending genre and time period. He also overlooks the important role of community in manga; for every Lone Wolf, there are just as many characters who discover their purpose when they join a particular group, whether it be the school council (a la Love Master A) or the Shinsengumi (a la Kaze Hikaru).

Given Manhwa 100‘s limitations, I’m reluctant to recommend it; anyone hoping for an indispensable reference or an introduction to Korean comics will find this book baffling. For those already enchanted with manhwa, however, I’d suggest reading Manhwa 100 in the same spirit that our grandparents and parents flipped through the Sears Roebuck catalog: as a book of possibilities, a wish list for readers who enjoyed Shaman Warrior, One Thousand and One Nights, Bride of the Water God, or Dokebi Bride. I’ve already spotted dozens of great candidates for licensing, from Be Good, a comedy about a gangster who goes back to high school at 40, to Buddy, a sports drama set inside the ultra-competitive world of women’s golf.

POSTSCRIPT, 2/3/09: I corresponded with the editorial staff at NETCOMICS, who explained that they had a contract with the Korea Culture and Content Agency (KOCCA) to distribute Manhwa 100 in North America. The book was written and produced by C&C Revolution, a private company. (No individuals are named as authors.) NETCOMICS is not responsible for the book’s editorial content, just for its distribution.

This review originally appeared at The Manga Curmudgeon on February 2, 2009.

Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei: The Power of Negative Thinking, Vol. 1

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Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei: The Power of Negative Thinking may not be as relentlessly intertextual as Ulysses, but this Japanese import is nearly as rich in puns, social commentary, pop-culture parody, and allusions to TV shows, novels, movies, and manga. I can’t imagine adapting such a culturally specific text for Western audiences, yet the folks at Del Rey have made a game effort to do just that. Given the scope and complexity of the task, I think translator Joyce Aurino has produced an eminently readable script that captures the darkness and absurdity of Koji Kumeta’s original. I just wish it were, y’know, funnier.

The premise seems ripe with comic potential. High school teacher and profound pessimist Nozomu Itoshiki lands the gig from hell: an all-female class of stalkers, hikokimori, obsessive text-messagers, bossy perfectionists, panty-flashers, and perky optimists. Try as he might to escape his obligations, his students foil his repeated suicide attempts, compounding his sense of despair and driving him to more extreme, ridiculous measures.

Through a series of interconnected vignettes, we begin to grasp the true extent of Itoshiki’s negativity as well as the sheer nuttiness of his students. In “Zetsubou-Sensei Returns,” for example, Itoshiki instructs his students to complete a “Post Graduation Career Hope Survey” by listing the three dreams they’re least likely to realize, e.g. playing baseball for Yomiuri Giants, recording a best-selling pop album. His sour-spirited effort quickly backfires, however, when the school’s guidance counselor reads the responses and praises Itoshiki for encouraging his students to dream big. In “Before Me, There’s No One; Behind Me, There’s You,” Matoi Tsunetsuki, a.k.a. “super-love-obsessed stalker girl,” develops an unhealthy attachment to Itoshiki. Matoi pursues her teacher with steely determination, adopting his trademark yukata, building a shrine to him, and following him everywhere. The chapter ends with a brilliant stroke, as one of Matoi’s former love interests begins tailing her to find out who’s replaced him, only to discover a chain of stalkers trailing in Matoi and Itoshiki’s wake.

Unfortunately, many of the stories require too much editorial intervention to elicit real laughs, as Kumeta’s panels abound in the kind of small but important details that resist easy translation: brand name parodies, puns on famous literary works, misspelled words, and so forth. The story titles, too, require explanation; “Behind Me, There’s No One,” for example, is a riff on a poem by Kotaro Takamura, while “Beyond the Tunnel Was Whiteness” appropriates a line from Yasanuri Kuwabata’s Snow Country. Absent this rich network of cultural references, Kometa’s comedy loses some of its fizz, playing more like a mild satire of shojo manga conventions than a scathing commentary on contemporary Japan.

If the text sometimes disappoints, the artwork does not. Kumeta uses a stark palette with large patches of pure black and plenty of white space. His highly stylized character designs have a pleasing, geometric quality about them, as do the patterns in their clothing. Though his faces are the essence of simplicity— just a few lines and two dark coals for eyes—Kumeta animates them with skill, registering the full gamut of emotions from anger to joy. His students are virtually interchangeable, save for their accessories and hairstyles: a black eye and a sling for the class masochist, blonde hair and strawberry-print underpants for the class exhibitionist. Again, Kumeta’s economy of form works beautifully, underscoring the extent to which Itoshiki views all of the girls in the same light: as nuisances.

I wish I liked Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei better, as I think Kumeta is a terrific artist with a fertile imagination. But it’s awfully hard to laugh when 70% of the jokes require footnotes. (If you disagree, try this exercise: watch an episode of Seinfeld, The Chapelle Show, or South Park with someone who’s new to the United States. Then try explaining why the jokes work. You’ll quickly realize the degree to which the creators rely on your knowledge of literature, politics, movies, and pop music for laughs.) I’m also a little uncomfortable with the way Kumeta depicts the female students, as he skates a thin line between poking fun at stock manga characters and portraying teenage girls as desperate, manipulative, boy-crazed hysterics. I wouldn’t go as far as to label the text misogynist—that term seems much too strong—but I would feel more at ease with the material if Kumeta’s cast was comprised of troublesome girls and boys—equal opportunity neurosis, if you will.

That said, I’m not ready to declare Zetsubou-Sensei a dud; I’m just not sure how invested I am in a series that requires its own set of cultural Cliff Notes to decode.

This review originally appeared at The Manga Curmudgeon on March 4, 2009.

The Horror! The Horror! Comic Books the Government Didn’t Want You to Read

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In the early 1950s, horror comics were big business. Out of the eighty million floppies sold each month, nearly one in three featured a vampire, a zombie, a cannibal, a werewolf, a parasitic alien, or a vengeful spirit. The comics were as sensational as their titles and were popular with kids—that is, until the Comics Code Authority effectively banned them in 1954 with its prohibition against “lurid, unsavory, gruesome illustrations.”

The Horror! The Horror! Comic Books the Government Didn’t Want You to Read focuses on horror’s brief renaissance in the 1950s. The first third of the book provides a historical overview of the genre, tracing horror comics’ roots back to the popular crime serials of the 1940s. The rest of the book explores the numerous subgenres and tropes found in series such as Tales from the Crypt, Tomb of Terror, The Thing, and Dark Mysteries. Each chapter is organized around a theme—vampirism, werewolves, zombies—and copiously illustrated with full-color reproductions of covers as well as complete stories ranging in length from one to twelve pages. Rounding out the volume is a 25-minute DVD containing “Confidential File,” a 1955 television documentary meant to show the harmful effects of comics on children.

Author Jim Trombetta is an excellent curator, selecting some of the era’s most memorable stories for inclusion in the book, from “Foul Play” (1953), a short piece in which a baseball team punishes its uppity pitcher, to “Some Die Twice” (1954), a longer story about a modern-day slave trader who falls prey to a tribe of cannibals. Through short but trenchant analyses of each story, Trombetta makes a persuasive case that horror comics gave readers a way to thumb their noses at polite society. Authors challenged the social emphasis on conformity, normalcy, and knowing one’s place by depicting all sorts of taboo behavior, from garden-variety criminal acts (e.g., extortion, robbery) to necrophilia. The stories were lurid, exciting, and decidedly un-PC, often reinforcing racist and sexist stereotypes, even as they lashed out at traditional authority figures.

Trombetta’s writing is lively and full of interesting observations, especially in his efforts to show the connection between America’s emerging military might and civilian reservations about the Korean War. His chapters on brainwashing and zombies, in particular, reveal the extent to which the plight of American POWs captured the popular imagination. Stories like “The Brain-Bats of Venus” (1952), for example, depicted pilots falling victim to a race of mind-controlling aliens—a thinly veiled allegory for the kind of reprogramming that Chinese captors allegedly conducted on American prisoners. Likewise, Trombetta’s chapter on vampirism does an excellent job of examining the way in which latent fears of miscegenation were embodied in the vampire’s unique mode of reproducing: swapping blood with the victim.

The only drawback to Trombetta’s approach is that his interpretations aren’t always as explicit or convincing as they could be. By lumping vampirism and cannibalism under the common heading of “The Hunger,” for example, Trombetta misses an opportunity to explore the very different ways in which these two categories reflected American anxieties about racial integration. His critique of horror comics’ not-so-latent sexism, too, would have benefited from more historical context, given the large numbers of women displaced from wartime jobs.

On the whole, however, The Horror! The Horror! is a beautifully designed, carefully researched book that chronicles one of the most important, vital genres in American comics while capturing its pulpy spirit.

This review originally appeared at The Graphic Novel Reporter on November 1, 2010.

Pick of the Week: A Week Loaded with Goodies

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SEAN: For me it’s a week where I could easily pick six or seven things. Another digital Kodansha debit, Is Kichijoji the Only Place to Live?; the dark but amusing The Voynich Hotel; Mari Okazaki’s new title Will I Be Single Forever?; the adorable looking Hakumei ad Mikochi; or my usual go-to obsession, Umineko: Then They Cry. But as I already indicated, my pick this week is Teasing Master Takagi-san, which simply puts a smile on my face. Teen romance was never this cute.

MICHELLE: What a position to be in, struggling to choose between two terrific-looking digital josei debuts! I really want VIZ’s experiment to succeed, as it might encourage them to release more stuff digitally (7SEEDS! ), but Is Kichijoji the Only Place to Live? looks like such a breath of fresh air. I think I’m gonna have to go with the latter.

KATE: This week’s new arrival list is one of the most eclectic of the year! If I had to pick just one title — and death was not an option — my vote would go to Mari Okazaki’s Will I Be Single Forever?, as I adored Suppli. If I could pick a second book, however, I’d add The Voynich Hotel, which sounds weird and funny (in a good way). What’s not to like about a manga starring a yakuza hitman, a witch, and a hotelier in a luchador mask?

ANNA: For me there is no question. I’ve often wished for more Mari Okazaki manga, and am delighted that there’s a manga of hers being translated again. Will I Be Single Forever? is my pick.

ASH: If Will I Be Single Forever? was being released in print, it would without question be my pick for this week. Alas, it’s only available digitally (for now???). I am rather curious about The Voynich Hotel, though, so I’ll happily be choosing that instead.

Pick of the Week: Delightful Digital and Precious Print

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MICHELLE: For the second week in a row, I’m going to pick one of Kodansha’s digital josei debuts. This time it’s Kakafukaka, a title I know almost nothing about except that it’s josei. We went so long without many josei options that they’re always going to pique my interest when they come along.

SEAN: It’s an odd little week, and there’s a few things I’m quite interested in but nothing that screams READ ME!. So my pick this week is the 10th Durarara!! novel, as I believe this is one of the ‘plot hammers going off’ volumes.

KATE: I’ve had mixed feelings about some of Inio Asano’s other work, but I am STOKED for volume two of his alien invasion dramedy Dead Dead Demon’s DeDeDeDestruction. Great art, great story, and weird humor = win!

ASH: Dead Dead Demon’s DeDeDeDestruction is definitely high on my list for this week, too, as is the most recent volume of Land of the Lustrous which is always a visual treat.

ANNA: I have to join in with Michelle in celebrating more digital josei, so Kakafukaka, for me as well!

Pick of the Week: Alice in the City of Tokyo

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ASH: It seems like I only get the chance to make Berserk my pick of the week once every three years or so, so I’ll once again take this opportunity to pick the most recent volume. (Plus, the characters are finally off the boat…)

MICHELLE: I’m not especially into shopping but I can’t pass up new josei, so I’m going with Tokyo Alice this week.

SEAN: Yeah, I too am going to go with Tokyo Alice, which looks intriguing.

KATE: At the risk of sounding like an old grump, I’m going to pass on this week’s bounty and hold out for next week, when a new volume of Dead Dead Demon’s DeDeDeDestruction hits shelves.

ANNA: I’m always up for more josei so Tokyo Alice is my pick, of course!

MELINDA: Okay, I admit I’m not super enthused by any of this week’s offerings, though probably I’d read Tokyo Alice and maybe Little Devils, so I’m going to instead make sure all our interested readers are aware that the new Banana Fish anime has begun! I was able to catch the first episode (available now via Amazon Prime Video) and it really hit the spot. It was definitely a little disorienting at first for the folks who watched it with me (neither of whom had read the manga), but by the end of the episode things were coming together for them, and we’re all looking forward to the next installment. As a long-time fan of the manga who has talked about it a lot over the years, this is honestly something I never imagined could happen, ever, so just the fact that someone is even making this anime of a weird shojo manga from the 80s is enough to send me over the moon. But I’m here to report that it’s also being really well done (even if we don’t get to enjoy the awful 80s fashions from the original).

KATE: VIZ announced that they will be republishing OOP volumes of the Banana Fish manga, FWIW. Anime News Network has the details.

MELINDA: Oooooh, amazing news! Thanks, Kate!

Pick of the Week: Going For It

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MICHELLE: There are many things coming out that I am interested in this week, particularly ongoing shoujo and shounen from VIZ and a slew of digital shoujo from Kodansha, but I find that what I most look forward to is some BL comedy in the vein of Go For It, Nakamura!. I just love that cover so much.

SEAN: I had never expected to see it over here, mostly as it’s years old now, so my pick of the week is definitely the One Piece Color Walk artbook. Seeing these beloved characters back in the old days will be great, especially with Oda commentary on the artwork.

KATE: Looking over this week’s list, I’m having a hard time limiting myself to just one title. I’ll be picking up the second volume of Kenka Bancho Otome, which is dumb as rocks, but in a delightful, cheeky way, and the second volume of Giant Spider & Me, which is also a delightful bit of escapism. I’m always down for new sports manga, so Harakuna Receive is on my list, despite the ever-present threat of fan service. And heck, while I’m at it, why not join Michelle in recommending Go For It, Nakamura!, which does indeed have an awesome cover.

ASH: It’s a Seven Seas sort of week for me, as well! I’m curious about Harukana Receive and Mushroom Girls, and am looking forward to reading more of Giant Spider & Me, but the release I really have my sights on is Go For It, Nakamura!, the publisher’s first real foray into BL.

ANNA: Water Dragon’s Bride 6 is coming out, so I’m so happy about that I can’t even think about anything else!