Off the Shelf with Melinda & Michelle

Off the Shelf: Black Butler, Pepita, Gundam

May 4, 2013 by Melinda Beasi and Michelle Smith 2 Comments

MELINDA: Good morning, Michelle! It’s a gorgeous morning here on Free Comic Book Day. Perfect for reading comics in the park. Do you have any comics-related plans for the day?

MICHELLE: Not in regards to Western comics, no, but I am looking forward to reading some Psyren later today!

MELINDA: I’ve got a nice stack of manga waiting for me as well. So I guess this is our cue to start talking about our comics-related activities earlier this week! What have you been reading?

MICHELLE: Well, one thing I’ve been doing lately is revisiting some of the series that I first talked about in the early days of Off the Shelf. Of course, there aren’t many that are still running—they’ve either finished or the publisher has disappeared—but there are a few, and one of them is Black Butler. Here’s my initial summary from back in January 2011:

In this series, a thirteen-year-old named Ciel Phantomhive is the head of his family after a fire claimed the lives of his parents. To assist him in his plans for revenge he has entered into a contract with a devil who is serving him in the guise of his butler, Sebastian. The Earls of Phantomhive have always served as a “watch dog” for the crown, a duty Ciel is now expected to perform for Queen Victoria.

At the time, I said that the emphasis on solving mysteries was pretty fun, but does that still hold true in volume thirteen? Well, sort of. Up until the previous arc, which involved a series of murders at Phantomhive Manor and the inspiration they provided a young Arthur Conan Doyle, the answer was yes. This current arc, though—which can pretty much be summarized as “zombies on the Titanic“—seems to be more about mass carnage than detection, even though Ciel got involved in the first place because he thought the Queen would want to know what was behind news reports of the dead being reanimated. The one bright spot is that Elizabeth, Ciel’s betrothed, turns out to be a secret badass with swords.

I was actually planning to talk about Black Butler even before you posted your 3 Things Thursday column about how you just couldn’t like it, and now your post has made me wonder why I’m still reading it. I like Sebastian, and sometimes there are amusing bits, but overall, I don’t feel connected to any of these characters or invested in their fate. Ciel could get devoured by a zombie at this point and I would not be affected in the least. So why am I reading? Unfortunately, I think the answer is… because Yen Press is still sending this to me. It’s an easy and uncomplicated read for me, and I don’t hate it, and so I read it. If I had to fork over $12 for each volume, though, I suspect I would’ve dropped it some time ago. It’s just not a satisfying enough read to justify that kind of price tag.

MELINDA: Discussion of Black Butler seems especially timely for me right now, not only because of that 3 Things Thursday post, but because my recent obsession with Yun Kouga’s Loveless has forced me to confront the question of why I can tolerate certain problematic fanservice in that series when I’m unwilling to stick with Black Butler. And by “forced to confront” I mean that I’ve been asked the question directly, and justifiably so! And the only answer I really have is that, well… Black Butler bored me—at least as far in as I was willing to go—well, and that I have pretty specific reasons for liking the relationships in Loveless that don’t really apply to Black Butler. But in any case, I’ve been asking myself a lot of questions about it, and pondering yet again whether I should give Black Butler another go. Given your reaction here, though, I’m thinking… no, not really.

MICHELLE: There really isn’t much fanservice of that kind in Black Butler, anyway. I mean, very occasionally there are pages where I think Toboso-sensei is throwing fans a juicy little tidbit, but on a straightforward reading, I am personally not seeing the overt, emotional subtext there like one gets in Loveless. Although… can something be simultaneously “overt” and “subtext”? Perhaps I need a better word…

MELINDA: I think subtext can be incredibly overt. Perhaps you could go for “generous.” Though I think there’s an argument to be made that part of the difference is that Loveless moves the subtext pretty well into the text, which means that Kouga actually forces us to deal with it instead of just giving us a nod & a wink.

MICHELLE: I think you’re right. I never take the “nod and a wink” stuff seriously.

Anyway, what have you been reading this week?

MELINDA: Well, on a very different note, my main solo read this week is not actually manga, though it’s of great interest to both of us (and, I expect, many of our readers). That read would be Pepita: Inoue Meets Gaudí , a sort of art book/travelogue released last month by Viz. The book combines prose, drawings, and photographs to chronicle the travels of Takahiko Inoue (Slam Dunk, Real, Vagabond) as he traces the life and work of Spanish architect Antoni Gaudí.

The book opens with a heartfelt introduction in which Inoue describes his first encounter with Gaudí’s work and how his detached view of Gaudí as a tourist in Barcelona differed from what he experienced in his quest to really know the man behind the work. It’s a passionate little piece that perfectly sets the tone for the book itself, which is informational and (of course) beautiful, but above all, personal.

Through Inoue’s quest to understand Gaudí, I felt that I was also given an opportunity to understand Inoue—and in a very different way than what I’ve learned about him through his own work. There’s a sense of wisdom and confidence in a series like Real, for instance, that makes me, the reader, feel that I’m the student; I’m learning about humanity through the eyes of a master. Here, Inoue is the one seeking wisdom from a master, and that alone gives us a very different glimpse of him as an artist and a person than what we’d ever see otherwise.

Though I don’t know that Inoue gets the answers he was looking for on his quest (he gets answers, but it’s complicated, I think), the journey itself is glorious to behold. The book is filled with Inoue’s detailed, inspired scribblings alongside (and sometimes inserted into) breathtaking photographs of both Gaudí’s work and the Spanish region he grew up in. It’s a visual treat of the very best kind. It also offers a wealth of information about the life and work of Gaudí through bits of researched history, interviews with artisans and Gaudí scholars, and Inoue’s personal observations.

I’m sure very little of the information offered will be new for serious students of Gaudí, but I am kind of thrilled at the thought that it might serve as an introduction to Inoue (and perhaps manga artists in general) for lovers of architecture, just as it might open up a new world of architectural beauty for fans of Inoue. It certainly did for me.

MICHELLE: That sounds glorious. Now, I have to ask… how detailed were the pictures of Gaudí’s work? Did Inoue attempt to draw any of them? Building geek that I am, I would love that most ardently.

MELINDA: The pictures are plentiful, though there isn’t a particular focus on the detail, if that makes sense. And though Inoue does sketch them occasionally, I’ll admit that he spends the bulk of his time drawing Gaudí’s surroundings—the streets, people, countryside, mountains—the things that he felt must have most deeply influenced Gaudí’s work, rather than the work itself. He ponders for quite a while Gaudí’s relationship with nature and how some of his buildings were designed to become part of the natural landscape—it’s fascinating, really. I think you’d enjoy it quite a lot.

So, to take a fairly drastic turn once again, would you like to introduce our mutual read for the week?

MICHELLE: Sure! This week, Melinda and I decided to venture out of our comfort zone and into the realm of… mecha.

Back in late March, Vertical, Inc. released a deluxe hardcover edition of the first volume of Mobile Suit Gundam: The Origin. Vertical has licensed the aizouban edition of the series, rather than the 23-volume tankouban version, so this first release (subtitled “Activation”) is quite substantial and contains some bonus essays. Mobile Suit Gundam is a relatively recent manga adaptation of the first Gundam anime, and was originally serialized in a magazine called Gundam A, which sounds like it’s for hardcore Gundam enthusiasts. I’d never actually read or seen anything Gundam-related before, so I wasn’t sure how I’d make out, but it turned out to be newcomer-friendly.

In Earth’s distant future, a large chunk of the population is living in gigantic, orbiting colonies. War breaks out when some of the colonies declare themselves the independent Republic of Zeon. A nicely ominous color introduction informs us that the resulting battles wiped out half of the population. “All men grew to fear their own deeds. The war entered a stalemate, and eight months went by…” Fighting resumes when a Zeon mecha force infiltrates a Federation colony where a new mobile suit is being developed.

Long story short… the civilian colonists end up escaping on a rather unwieldy ship, fleeing from their enemy who fight with red-eyed metallic soldier things, and… anyone else here getting some serious Battlestar Galactica flashbacks?

MELINDA: Heh, well I’d say yes and no. I mean, yes, of course I see where you’re going with that. And I’d say that the plight of the civilians on the ship is the thing that interests me most in Gundam so far. Several of the civilians find themselves sort of spontaneously becoming part of the military operation—in particular Amuro, a civilian teen who accidentally finds himself the pilot of a new mechanical suit prototype, Gundam, and Sayla, who begins as part of the volunteer medical team. The conflict among the military command over the assimilation of the civilians is compelling, but as I struggle to describe any of it here, I think I’m actually hitting upon the thing that least reminds me of something like BSG and is also the source of my own difficulties with the book as a reader. The thing is, unlike BSG or even most of the other Japanese mecha-based series I’ve been able to get into (Evangelion, of course, or more recently, Knights of Sidonia), Gundam is for me, at least so far, a bit too much about the mecha.

As I say this, I’m aware that I’ll probably be criticized for it—and perhaps justly. As one of the two or three manga fans left in the world who has never seen even a second of this very famous anime series, I’m a total novice. I think my nervousness in approaching a series as iconic as this one is pretty similar to Phillip’s trepidation when he decided to read and talk publicly about Sailor Moon. I’m out of my depth and I know it. But as I read through this volume, gorgeous as it is (and it really, really is—seriously, it’s visually epic), I found that I had difficulty remembering characters’ names or really identifying with their story. And I felt pretty detached from the suit itself, which really seemed like the thing I was supposed to be appreciating the most. Is it just me?

MICHELLE: It is not just you at all. As you say, the manga is visually epic, and the overall atmosphere carries the story along even more than the plot does. (There were things about the plot that confused me, for example. Like why is civilian teen Amuro suddenly the pilot of the mecha, when there was an officer slated for that role? Did I miss his demise or something?) But the characterization is where things really fall flat. I don’t feel like we know Amuro even a little teensy bit, other than he seems to have some natural aptitude for piloting a big fighting suit. And where this might put him in direct comparison to Nagate of Knights of Sidonia, at least I have a sense with the latter that it’s Tsutomu Nihei’s intent that his lead be inscrutable. That’s just his style. With Mobile Suit Gundam it feels more like characterization was deemed unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

MELINDA: I’m grateful to hear you say this, because I really feared that my reaction was a case of reader failure more than anything else, which is to say that it quite surprised me—and saddened me, actually. Not because I feel like loving Gundam a grave necessity in my life, but because the book is so, so stunning to look at, and so obviously created out of a deep love for the source material. One doesn’t even need to read any of the heartfelt essays in the back of the book to feel the sense of reverence and devoted fandom that went into the making of this manga. And Vertical takes that fandom seriously in their production of the book as well. From the bright semi-gloss paper to the gorgeous color pages, Vertical made sure that this labor of love was presented in the most reverent light possible. If I was a fan of the franchise, I’d feel that this was a tremendous gift, I’m sure. And honestly, I could look at the artwork all day long.

MICHELLE: The artwork really sells it for me, and I was especially impressed that the space battles are drawn with such clarity. True, I did weary of the space battles by the end, but at least they weren’t incomprehensible, as could easily have been the case. Too, I never got the sense with this that I was reading an adaptation. I wonder how it reads to those who have actually seen the anime.

Ultimately, though I get the sense that you’re not planning to continue with the series, I think I will. While I might not care about the characters much—though several of the female ones seem to have potential for awesomeness—I still like the story and the sheer scope of what mankind is facing.

MELINDA: I can see how you’d draw that conclusion, but actually I suspect I will continue with it. Despite my feelings of detachment at this point, the artwork alone is enough to carry me on, at least long enough to see if the characters might begin to really grab me. I like to give any series at least three volumes or so to pull me in, and Gundam surely merits that much. Who knows what might happen?

Note: Melinda & Michelle will be taking a break from this column for the next two weeks, in order to prepare for the upcoming Yumi Tamura Manga Moveable Feast. Can you guess what they’ll be reading?

Off the Shelf: Angel Sanctuary, MMF Edition

April 21, 2013 by Melinda Beasi and Michelle Smith 8 Comments

MICHELLE: Hey, Melinda! When two angels meet, what do they say to each other?

MELINDA: Well, judging from the title we’re reading this week, something like, “Die, die, DIE!”?

MICHELLE: The punchline is technically “Halo!,” but I admit that your suggestion is much more appropriate!

I can’t remember whose turn it is to summarize, but I have a feeling you’ll do a great job with Angel Sanctuary, so want to give it a go?

MELINDA: I’ll do my best!

So, this month’s Manga Moveable Feast is dedicated to the works of Kaori Yuki, an artist whose work I’d had essentially no exposure to at all before the past few days. Though most of her existing work in English was published before I became a manga fan, Viz Media’s new practice of re-releasing older shoujo series in digital form has suddenly made one of them easily available. As Michelle has already indicated, that series is Angel Sanctuary, currently being released at VizManga.com.

Angel Sanctuary begins with the story of Setsuna Mudo, a scrappy high school student with a reputation for fighting, though his weakness as a fighter is that he falls asleep at the sight of blood. His other, greater weakness is that he harbors strong feelings of romantic love for his younger sister, Sara—feelings that she unfortunately returns in kind, which is a source of deep shame for them both.

As it turns out, Setsuna is actually the reincarnation of Alexiel, a powerful angel who long ago rebelled against the growing cruelty of the angelic realm, following the disappearance of God. Alexiel was ultimately defeated and sentenced to be reincarnated into misery, over and over again, but not before sealing away her twin brother, Rosiel, who had led the fight against her.

Though Alexiel has never retained memories from one reincarnation to the next, she’s been protected through all of them by a demon-like personage who makes agreements with humans to carry out their deepest wishes in return for taking control of their mortal bodies to keep himself in Alexiel’s company. In Setsuna’s lifetime, this demon lives in the body of Sakuya Kira, Setsuna’s oldest friend and protector.

(click images to enlarge)

Meanwhile, Rosiel’s faithful seek to awaken him from exile by way of a video game called “Angel Sanctuary,” which sacrifices the lives of the humans who play it in order to gather the power required to return Rosiel to corporeal form. This quest is led by Katan, a former lower being who was elevated to angelic status by Rosiel back during the height of his power.

MICHELLE: Nicely done! (Of course, the backstory doesn’t come out nearly as cleanly or clearly in the actual manga, but after a first volume that is, frankly, somewhat of a mess, the pacing for these revelations improves a good deal.)

After tainting himself by taking innocent human life, Katan is dismayed to find that Rosiel, whom he had hoped would end an ongoing power struggle in Heaven, is insane (and probably always has been) and obsessed with tormenting Setsuna to the point that Alexiel awakens, so that he might kill her.

Meanwhile, Kurai and Arachne—two demon survivors formerly protected by Alexiel—also seek the awakening, but for different reasons. This is complicated when Kurai falls in love with Setsuna, since he would cease to exist if Alexiel were to return.

MELINDA: I’d actually like to return to your parenthetical point up there, because this is really a pretty big deal. After all, I think we both originally thought we’d simply stop after the first excruciating volume, and it was only duty that pushed me on further, at which point I discovered that the story really does get going at long last. Before that, Angel Sanctuary is, to use your words at the time, “quite the slog.”

Unfortunately, some fairly crucial revelations (in terms of making this story work at all) are withheld until the third volume—I’m thinking particularly of the truth about Alexiel’s painful reincarnations. Up until that point, Setsuna and Sara’s agonizing love story feels more like some kind of authorial fetish rather than a meaningful plot point, and given that this is one of the most important relationships in the series, I think this contributed greatly to the “slog” impression, at least on my part. Admittedly, I’m also vastly more interested in the relationships and general character development than I am in the series’ complicated angel mythology, so perhaps this affected me more strongly than it might others, but damn. A little explanation earlier on would have gone a long way towards compelling me forward with something approaching enthusiasm. As it is, I crawled my way to volume three with hands and knees increasingly bloodied. It was not pleasant.

MICHELLE: My experience was quite the same. I don’t have exact quotes to hand, but something about Yuki-sensei’s author-talk columns gave me the feeling that she was congratulating herself for her audaciousness for tackling the subject of incest, so that put me off somewhat. And I have almost no interest in angel power struggles at any time, so hard-to-decipher angel power struggles are even less compelling. This ties in with what I think is the chief flaw of Angel Sanctuary in the early chapters—information overload, before we’ve had time to get to know or care about these characters.

There’s a telling note at the end of volume two, actually, where Yuki-sensei writes:

When someone says, “If you take this part slowly, there’ll be more feeling.” I have to reply, “But this chapter needs to go up to this part of the storyline.” And so, I cut out some, but it’s not enough, so I end up taking out sappy dialogue.

I think she should’ve listened to those people a bit more! Not that I necessarily want more sappy dialogue, but taking things more slowly might’ve, for example, allowed readers to be able to see Sara as her own person—someone who turns out to be stronger and more interesting than I initially expected—before focusing on how she and Setsuna are in love with each other.

MELINDA: Yes, exactly. I was surprised to find that, by the end of the third volume, I was actually beginning to care about their relationship. And that in itself should be surprising, because it’s the kind of relationship I normally would find compelling from the start, if I cared about the characters in the slightest. It’s worth noting that amidst the recent spate of fanservice-laden, incest-themed moe titles we’ve been seeing, Satsuna and Sara’s plight reads as particularly poignant. It’s never played for laughs, it’s genuinely heartbreaking—it’s got classic romantic tragedy written all over it. It’s more Flowers in the Attic than I Don’t Like You At All, Big Brother!! and I’ll admit I ate that series up with a spoon when I was a teen.

(click images to enlarge)

MICHELLE: And though it may be tragic, it’s not as if the characters are playing at a bit of drama. One of the first scenes that got me interested in Sara occurs early in volume two, when Rosiel’s flunky has distributed pictures that look as if Setsuna and Sara are kissing, and she’s been called in to the office at her school. The nun lectures, “Feelings of love between brother and sister belong only to silly, spoiled girls who have fantasies of being some tragic heroine.” Sara’s internal denials of this were what, for the first time, made me realize that she truly was equally serious in her love for Setsuna.

And thankfully, despite the shaky start, I did come to care about other relationships in the series, too. I have a great deal of sympathy for Katan, for example, who sacrificed much for Rosiel’s sake, only to be cast aside for not being obedient enough. And then there’s Kira, who was the one bright spot early on and who continues to be fascinating, as he at first denies that he could possess any affection for Setsuna the “mere human,” but eventually must acknowledge that the merger with his human host has rendered him capable of love.

MELINDA: I agree—both the relationships you mention here end up being very compelling, and I’d like to discuss them both, too. Let’s start with Katan and Rosiel, because it’s one that gets fleshed out a bit earlier than the others, I think. What I find most heartbreaking here are Katan’s realizations over the course of the first few volumes, because he really is so loyal. He sees Rosiel as a true savior, and is utterly devastated when he finally realizes that, with the exception of himself, Rosiel has acquired all his devoted followers by using some kind of magic capsule to turn them into mind-controlled puppets. I found it particularly interesting that it wasn’t just the discovery of Rosiel’s means that horrified Katan, but specifically that Rosiel resorted to this method when many of his puppets actually had been truly loyal to Rosiel before they were turned. The fact that Rosiel was unwilling to trust that he could lead by appealing to others’ free will seemed to be what really upset Katan.

Then, of course, when Rosiel reveals that he’s not even willing to trust Katan‘s long-proven loyalty, it’s like a dagger to the heart.

MICHELLE: I genuinely loved that reveal about Rosiel’s army, both for the emotional impact on Katan but because it also sparked a tiny glimmer of interest in the angel power struggle. Katan’s dismissal made me wonder—and you’ve read farther than I have, so you might know the answer to this—whether he might eventually defect to the other side and help to defeat Rosiel.

MELINDA: You are *so* right. After endless pages of wordy exposition filled with names like “Raziel,” “Zaphikel,” and “Sandalphon,” and who’s who in the angelic hierarchy, having a little genuine intrigue and, for lack of a better word, humanity thrown in the mix was a lifesaver. I think this whole thing, including the realization that Rosiel has genuinely gone mad, also helps to make all the characters sympathetic in some way, which is a big deal for me, honestly. I’ve never really been interested in epic stories of good vs. evil (because I don’t really believe in the purity of either one), so the more Yuki grays things up, the better. I like things messy, in every way possible.

It’s this kind of nuance that really makes Kira’s story shine as well. We’re only just beginning to understand his true nature, but one thing that has become central to the story in volumes three and four is his own realization that he’s developed human attachments, and what that means for everyone involved. I was incredibly moved by scenes featuring Kira’s human father, who could not learn to hate his son, even after finding out that the Kira he’d raised from age eleven on wasn’t even his son at all. Some of this may come after the point you’ve read to, but oh, Michelle, it’s some of the best writing in the whole series so far.

MICHELLE: I agree entirely about the scenes between Kira and his father, in which we learn that Kira has been behaving awfully in an attempt to cause this man to abandon his love for his son in preparation of a time when Kira no longer needs that body, and he ends up dying for real, this time. (All of which is at the request of the original Sakuya, with whom demon!Kira is seemingly able to hold conversations.)

Honestly, with supporting characters like Katan and Kira around, I pretty much don’t give a flying flip about Rosiel and Alexiel’s conflict and drama. Perhaps Yuki-sensei will be able to make me care about that, as she was eventually able to do with some other plot elements.

MELINDA: It’s true, the whole Rosiel vs. Alexiel story is the least interesting thing to me in this entire series, at least by the end of volume four. Which is not to say that I have no interest in them as characters, but despite the fact that they are holding on to this old rivalry so tightly, it’s really their relationships with the other characters that make them who they are in the present. I suppose this is the real tragedy that only the reader can see, and perhaps that’s even something Yuki-sensei is trying to show us—that if Rosiel, especially, could put aside the thirst for power that drove him mad in the first place, and actually recognize the real love and loyalty available to him, vengeance might lose its urgency. I suppose this really is just a lesson for Rosiel, as it seems clear that Alexiel actually prefers to be Setsuna than herself. An early scene that caught my attention is one between Alexiel and Kurai, in which Alexiel admits she’d like to be reborn as a man.

Actually, gender, and particularly unhappiness with one’s biological gender, is an ongoing theme in this series. And while there are some fairly problematic elements in Yuki’s discussion of the subject, there’s so much discussion that it’s difficult to dismiss it all as the usual heteronormative manga gender-bending. It’s difficult to smash the gender binary in English, because we’re so dependent on gender-specific pronouns, but at least one character refers to herself as a “third gender,” and Kurai, for example, manages to be much more nuanced than the typical “tom boy” characterization. So as weary as I get with the endless statements about women only needing to be beautiful and to be protected, there seems to be some deeper thought behind it all.

MICHELLE: Oh, yes, I meant to bring up those statements. I thought it was interesting that most of the lines like “A girl needs to be protected; only then will she be beautiful and gentle” and “Find yourself a guy who’ll protect you” come from one character: Alexiel. That made them a little easier to stomach, like these are her opinions for some reason—she also implies that if she had a man’s love, she might never have conflicted with the other angels—and not necessarily the mangaka’s. True, Setsuna idealizes Sara and believes she must be protected, but then Yuki-sensei shows us that Sara’s not so weak or oblivious, after all. So, I wasn’t as irked by those comments as I otherwise might have been. (But, y’know, still a little irked.)

MELINDA: I’ll be interested to see where that line of thinking goes as the series continues. I’d like to think that these are beliefs that Yuki-sensei is interested in proving wrong, but it would be foolish to get my hopes up too high on that point.

As I flip through the first few volumes, looking for accompanying artwork, I realize that there are a whole host of characters we haven’t brought up at all, and I have to believe that this is mainly because, so far, they’re really just a part of the whole angelic political turmoil, in which neither of us has the slightest interest. I think it’s quite telling that the characters we have discussed are the ones who have become important in other ways.

MICHELLE: I feel like probably we should talk about Ruri, Sara’s friend, but I really don’t have much to say about her, since we see her as her actual self only briefly. Really, her fate just falls under the “Rosiel schemes to torment Setsuna” heading. And we haven’t even mentioned the super supreme angelic being everyone’s so in awe of, because he simply has no impact on the story as a character. He just appears once and, like, reattaches Setsuna’s arm. (Sidebar: there is a fair amount of arm reattachment in this series.)

MELINDA: I’d actually be interested in reconvening our discussion sometime after you’ve read volume four, because that’s when the “super supreme angelic being” (aka “Adam Kadamon”) finally becomes something truly significant in the story. The beginning of volume four offers up revelations on most of the topics we have discussed as well, including Kira and his father, Rosiel and Katan, and even Setsuna and Sara, whose story only becomes more poignant as Setsuna finds that he must force himself awake from a dreamworld in which he and Sara are a run-of-the-mill high school boyfriend and girlfriend (no familial ties at all), coexisting happily with all of their friends. Everything comes to a head in the beginning of volume four, leading to the beginning of a new arc just a chapter or so in that I’m hoping will finally make the story’s supernatural politics into something meaningful.

MICHELLE: For all its stumbling at the beginning, I think I’m invested in Angel Sanctuary enough to continue with it, so I am amenable to that suggestion!

MELINDA: I look forward to it!

Volumes 1-5 of Angel Sanctuary are currently available at VizManga.com. For more of the Kaori Yuki Manga Moveable Feast, keep your eyes on The Beautiful World!

Off the Shelf: Re-evaluations & Adaptations

April 6, 2013 by Melinda Beasi and Michelle Smith 5 Comments

MELINDA: Good morning, Michelle! Having a happy birthday week?

MICHELLE: Reasonably so! I’d grouse about my age, but since you’re older than me, I’ve decided to be sensitive.

MELINDA: I appreciate that, I really do. So, have you read any birthday-worthy manga this week?

MICHELLE: I have!

Since we’ve been doing this column for nearly three years (!), I thought it might be interesting to start revisiting some series that I first talked about in early days. Library Wars: Love & War had its second volume featured in our September 8, 2010 column, and at the time I was not complimentary. I found the concept “ill-defined,” the military ridiculous, Iku (the heroine) “annoying” and “inept,” and the series overall “sloppy and generic.”

So, how do I feel about the series in volume nine? Surprisingly benevolent! The concept is still very silly, as is the super-shoujo-riffic depiction of a military unit, and Iku is still inept in some areas, but somehow I have grown tolerant about all these things. Throughout the volume, she deals with things like a pervert in the library, testing to move up to Sergeant (which involves the arduous task of reading aloud to children), a plan to get the government to retract some of its censorship laws, and her knowledge that her commanding officer, Dojo, is the “prince” she has idolized since high school.

I admit, summarized like this, it doesn’t sound like Library Wars has overcome its sloppy and generic origins, but somehow I have started to honestly enjoy it. I just stopped expecting it to be something it wasn’t, or for certain elements of the story to make any sense, and decided to simply enjoy the romance unfolding between a shoujo heroine who is one part typically clueless and one part occasionally competent and a shoujo love interest who is your pretty standard gruff/stern guy with a soft and mushy center, except he’s short.

I can’t claim Library Wars has itself made a huge dramatic turnaround, since I suspect the real change has been in my mindset regarding it, but it’s a nice bit of fluff, and sometimes I like that.

MELINDA: Wow, has it really been that long?! I’m quite impressed by our dedication!

I remember well your initial reaction to Library Wars, and I have to say that I’m quite loving the fact that you’ve come to enjoy it! I think one of the best aspects of this kind of serialization is that so often this can happen. I’ll usually (usually) give any manga series at least three volumes (and often five) before giving it up, and I’m constantly surprised at how often this leads to readerly happiness.

MICHELLE: There must have been something about it that kept me coming back, despite my initial complaints, and I’m glad I didn’t give up on it!

What have you been reading this week?

MELINDA: Well, this week, I dug into volume one of Dark Hunters: Infinity, Yen Press’ graphic novel adaptation of Sherrilyn Kenyon’s The Chronicles of Nick, which is a sort of YA prequel to her popular Dark Hunter novels, with art by JiYoung Ahn. I’ve never read any of Kenyon’s hugely epic series; I really never thought they’d be my thing. And despite the more appealing (to me) YA vibe of this particular corner of Kenyon’s universe, I’m afraid the graphic novel adaptation may only be reinforcing my original impression of her work.

Fourteen-year-old Nick Gautier is in a tough spot. Though his greatest priority in life is trying to do right by his mom, who works herself to the bone as an exotic dancer to keep him fed and clothed, an unpleasant combination of school bullies and unwanted peer pressure are pushing him hard down a destructive path. And unfortunately, these aren’t the only forces seeking to wreak havoc on Nick’s life.

As his neighborhood falls victim to an infestation of living zombies, it becomes clear that Nick is much more than an ordinary human, and two warring supernatural factions are making a play for his soul. With a host of mysterious figures vying for his loyalty, young Nick struggles to figure out who he can actually trust—all the while, his future self looks on, desperately seeking to change his own path.

If the paragraph I just typed above was the total sum of what goes on in this series’ first volume, that would be a lot to handle in a single installment. Still, I wish that were the case—because the truth is, there’s soooo much more. So much, in fact, that I came out of the volume feeling utterly at a loss as to how to process what I’d read. This volume throws so many characters and supernatural concepts out at once that I think I might have done better if I’d stopped to take notes. And though I actually like being tossed in the middle of a complicated universe and certainly I’ve loved and even praised jam-packed openings like this in the past—the first volume of Pandora Hearts springs immediately to mind—what Pandora Hearts had that Dark Hunters: Infinity lacks is a set of characters so immediately compelling that anything else is rendered a non-issue.

Kenyon’s characters look like they should be compelling from the outset—a scrappy, underdog hero, a long-suffering mom, and a large collection of attractive, mysterious supernatural beings, each with his or her own unique abilities—but the further in you get the more generic they feel.

I’m suspect this reads more coherently as a novel—and maybe the characterization is deeper as well. But as it stands, I’m unimpressed.

MICHELLE: I reckon it makes business sense for Yen Press to produce these graphic novel adaptations, and sometimes they’re genuinely worth reading—Soulless is pretty fun, for example—but sometimes the original is just too sprawling and complex for it to work. And when the original is something that didn’t appeal much to me in the first place, I’m afraid I just can’t get excited about an adaptation.

MELINDA: Well said, on all counts. I expect I’ll continue with this series for at least one more volume, but I admit that the prospect feels a bit like a chore.

So, speaking of adaptations, our mutual read this week happens to be one as well! Want to give as an introduction?

MICHELLE: Sure!

Due out this Tuesday from VIZ is the first volume of Tiger & Bunny, which is, as the front cover proclaims, “based on the hit anime series!” Before I began reading, I knew two things about Tiger & Bunny—1) it was a popular anime and 2) it involves superheroes. After I finished… I still pretty much knew only those two things.

In the metropolis known as Sternbild City, there’s a popular reality show known as Hero TV, which bills itself as “rescue entertainment” and broadcasts heroes’ attempts to save civilians and foil criminals and rates them on their efforts. One such hero, Wild Tiger, has been around a long time and declined a great deal in popularity with the audience (he also has a ridiculous costume) and clashes pretty quickly with Barnaby Brooks, Jr., the newcomer who bucks tradition by showing his face to the audience. Practically immediately, the corporate bosses behind the show have paired them up and they’ve got to work together to stop a bullied kid with the ability to animate giant statues.

The volume goes by really quickly, and it felt to me like an episode of some Saturday morning cartoon.

MELINDA: I had very much the same reaction as you did here, Michelle. The volume whips by so quickly, my first thought when I finished it was that I really wished we were getting it in omnibus editions, because I felt like I didn’t have a chance to get to know the characters or story at all beyond the basic premise.

On the upside, unlike Dark Hunters: Infinity, what little we did get to see in these characters gave me a lot of hope that we have something more to learn. Right from the get-go, it’s clear that Wild Tiger, who is dangerously close to becoming a has-been, is at odds with the studio regarding more than just his declining ratings. Unwilling to strategically delay his heroic acts to coincide neatly with commercial breaks, Tiger appears to be the only hero in the bunch to still prioritize minor details like actually saving people over maintaining corporate sponsorships. And though Barnaby (whom he irreverently nicknames “Bunny” near the end of the volume) has been set up as his superior (Tiger is actually referred to as his “assistant” at one point), one can assume that he’s got a lot to learn from idealistic Tiger.

It’s not the deepest stuff, perhaps, but I’ll admit that the end of the volume left me genuinely wishing for more, rather than simply shrugging at its incompleteness.

MICHELLE: Although the ending is a bit hokey, it is true that Tiger’s the one responsible for saving the day for everyone in the situation. I admit to actually being a bit more curious about the supporting cast, some of whom are very quirky. At this point, I think I’d rather know more about Rock Bison than our two protagonists.

MELINDA: I guess we’ll just have to wait for the next installment to see if we can truly grasp the source of the anime series’ popularity. Fortunately, there’s enough here to keep us curious, at least for now.

Off the Shelf: Supernatural Sunday

March 31, 2013 by Melinda Beasi and Michelle Smith 8 Comments

MICHELLE: Hey, Melinda! Why did the Easter egg hide?

MELINDA: Hmmm… I don’t know, Michelle. Why did the Easter egg hide?

MICHELLE: ‘Cos he was a little chicken.

MELINDA: Ouch. Ouch, ouch. Er. I mean. Ha ha!

MICHELLE: It actually genuinely makes me giggle, but I am predisposed to find chickies amusing.

Anyway! Encounter anything amusing in the realm of manga this week?

MELINDA: Indeed I did! My first read this week was volume one of Tania del Rio’s Sabrina the Teenage Witch: The Magic Within, a manga-style graphic novel collecting the first ten issues of her series, which began its run in 2004. This came out just last week from Archie Comics, and though I realize it’s comprised of previously released material, I’m surprised it hasn’t gotten more buzz.

Sabrina’s been an Archie Comics staple since the 1960s, and she’s appeared in such a variety of mediums (comic books, animated television, live-action television), it’s difficult to imagine that more than a handful of Americans my age and younger could have avoided running into her one way or another. When this graphic novel appeared in our mailbox, my husband—who’d been a fan of the 1996 live-action sitcom starring Melissa Joan Hart—grabbed it up to read before I even had a chance. I was in the thick of my own professional acting career during most of that series’ 7-year run, and I hadn’t been a fan of comic books growing up, so my own history with Sabrina was fairly minimal. Yet here she is now, right in my wheelhouse!

For the two or three people who’ve never encountered her, Sabrina Spellman is a typical North American teenager—mostly. Her days are spent navigating the treacherous world of high school, friendships, and teen romance. Her nights are spent in another world entirely—the Magical Realm, where she studies her true birthright, witchcraft. As one of a growing number of witches who have chosen to live in the mortal world (Sabrina shares a house with her two grownup aunts and a talking cat, Salem), Sabrina delicately balances two separate lives and two separate love interests—shy jock Harvey in the mortal world and charismatic player Shinji in the Magical Realm.

If this sounds like ideal fodder for shoujo manga, Archie Comics obviously agrees—and they’re not wrong, for the most part. Though the series’ episodic format is initially a bit lacking in the kind of depth and character development we tend to expect from manga, later chapters really begin to gel, growing into a character-driven supernatural romance with one hell of a cliffhanger at the end of the volume. And if I’d like to see the story tip a bit more towards supernatural adventure and a bit less towards romance, that’s a very personal quibble.

Where the series really betrays itself as North American manga style comics, is in the artwork—not that this is a big surprise. For my tastes as a manga fan, The Magic Within fails where a whole lot of OEL manga fails, and that’s with cramped, over-toned pages filled to the last inch with ink. As a shoujo manga fan accustomed to delicate line art, sparse backgrounds, and gracefully flowing panel layouts, Sabrina begins as a cluttered, disorienting, inky assault. Fortunately, it’s engaging enough to ultimately render this a non-issue, and by the end of the book I was anxious for more.

MICHELLE: I actually watched some of the live-action Sabrina, though not avidly. And so it feels weird to me that there’s suddenly a love interest called “Shinji” in this comic. Perhaps this is jaded, and I am completely overlooking all of the good things you just mentioned, but this strikes me as “manga fans will think it’s manga if there’s a Japanese guy in it!”

MELINDA: I definitely get where you’re coming from, and maybe my minimal exposure to earlier versions of Sabrina makes that easier for me to swallow. But the truth is, Shinji is so charming a character, it’s difficult not to just plain like him. I think a chapter later in the book where we meet more of his family (including a mortal uncle who visits from Japan and popularizes Salem as a stuffed mascot—much to Salem’s dismay) helps, too, by giving him some real background. And I’ll admit I can’t help rooting for him in the ongoing Harvey-Shinji romantic showdown (where, as Guy #2, he’s obviously doomed), though at this point, I’m more interested in the volume-end cliffhanger, which is actually all about Shinji, and looks to be potentially quite serious.

The truth is, I enjoyed this book a lot. And for what it’s worth, my Sabrina-fan husband gave it an enthusiastic thumbs-up as well.

So what have you been amusing yourself with this week?

MICHELLE: The most amusing manga I read this week was our mutual read for today’s column, but I suppose we’ll get to that in a moment.

My solo read this week was volume 66 of One Piece, which you totally still need to read. This series experienced a two-year time jump prior to volume 61, and volume 66 wraps up the first arc of the “New World,” in which the Straw Hat pirates have reunited and helped thwart an attempt by some human-hating fish-men pirates to take over Fish-Man Island.

This arc has not been an emotional one for our characters—they’re helping, but they’re not personally invested. Rather, the arc is about a fresh start, and so far seems intended as a backdrop against which our heroes can show off the new techniques they’ve learned in the past two years, as well as some of the insecurities they’ve conquered—Chopper no longer has stigma about being a monster, Usopp no longer reacts to taunts about being the weak link in the crew. That isn’t to say that there aren’t some truly nice moments—I’m particularly fond of the several pages depicting the celebratory feast after the battle is won.

A lot of the other things I thought were nifty were more plot-related. I always like it when there’s talk of adding someone to the crew, for example, and then there was a lot of stuff about the mystery of the missing 100 years of history—a subplot that’s been on the back burner recently—and a suggestion that Luffy might possess an ability rare for a human, one which only the previous Pirate King possessed. The one sour note was the depiction of a large female villain, but then I realized that Oda actually does extremely well at involving large heroic people in his series (of both genders), so my brief flare of irritation quickly faded.

Ultimately, this arc’s been fun, but not One Piece at its best.

MELINDA: I suspect any really long series is going to have its less exciting arcs, and at 66 volumes One Piece has certainly earned a rest. I hope for your sake that it is leading up to further greatness, and not petering out like most long series eventually do. I’ll admit it’s that 66 volumes that makes venturing further than the three I’ve personally read feel really daunting, but I keep planning to dig back in!

MICHELLE: I think if you could just get to volume nine, you’d see what the fuss is about!

Feel up to introducing our mutual read?

MELINDA: Sure! Our mutual read this week was volume two of Yuuki Kodama’s Blood Lad, a sort of horror/comedy seinen manga currently running in Kadowaka Shoten’s Young Ace and being released here in double-length omnibus editions by Yen Press. I read (and enjoyed!) the first volume of the series back in December, but Michelle’s just catching up now, so for those of you who are also tuning in for the first time, I’ll briefly go over the premise.

Staz is a young vampire who is also boss of a largish territory in the lower (read: slummier) levels of the demon world. He’s also obsessed with mortal Japanese pop culture, so when a Japanese teenager named Fuyumi accidentally turns up in the demon world, he latches on to her right away, demanding her opinions on manga, anime, and video games. As a human, Fuyumi’s chances of survival are slim in the demon world, and it isn’t long before she’s killed and becomes a ghost. This leads Staz on a quest to bring her back to life—partly for his own sake (he’s dying for some real time in the human world) and partly for hers, which is surprising to Staz, as he generally cares little for others. This leads to all sorts of mayhem, including a run-in with Staz’ friend/rival (a werewolf creatively named “Wolf”), who ultimately joins him in his quest to resurrect Fuyumi.

One thing that’s mentioned a few times in volume one is that though Staz lives in the lower-class area of the demon world, he’s actually a pure-blood vampire—a direct descendant of Dracula, even—and this becomes even more important in volume two, where he finds himself in the thick of a family plot, hatched by his manipulative older brother Braz and carried out with the help of their ruthless little sister, Liz. Though volume two begins with Staz directly at odds with his siblings, one of the volume’s nicest surprises is the evolution of Liz’s character as she begins to realize just how controlling and self-serving her oldest brother is. The series’ other delightful surprise—in my opinion at least—is its genuinely funny comedy, but I probably should let Michelle weigh in before going on further about that.

MICHELLE: Originally, I really didn’t think Blood Lad would be something I’d enjoy, but after your experience with it, I couldn’t help but be curious. And now I’m quite glad I decided to check it out, because I liked it very much!

While I like Staz and Fuyumi and am reasonably interested in the fulfillment of his quest, the thing I like best about this series is how it doesn’t do what I expect. For example, one might expect female characters as blatantly buxom as these to be put into fan service poses at every turn, but that doesn’t really happen too often. And that friend/rival, Wolf? He actually takes a break from a fight he’s losing, allowing Staz to take over. Like, with absolutely zero posturing or hurt pride! That is certainly rare!

The very best part, though, is the comedy. Many of the best lines go to Mamejirou, a three-eyed, prescient, low-level demon critter who is pretty much as adorable as it gets. There’s a recurring gag in this volume where boisterous teleportation expert Bell makes a grand entrance to a scene, at which point Mamejirou says something like, “Seriously. Rude.” I love him. (I suppose this is not surprising, considering my love for Koh in Silver Diamond.) The adaptation is also well done, and incorporates a few meme references that I found fun.

So I suppose I need to thank you for convincing me to give Blood Lad a chance!

MELINDA: I’m both thrilled and relieved that you ended up enjoying this manga, because I would have felt very guilty if you hadn’t! And yes, yes on the comedy. Volume two in particular contains a lot of older manga references as well, from Lupin III to Dragon Ball (chapter 15’s Dragon Ball bit is just plain awesome), though probably these are most enjoyable for long-time manga fans. That’s really much of the series’ charm, though. It’s a love song to otaku, through and through, and who can resist that?

MICHELLE: I had expected it to be longer (only seven volumes appear to be out in Japan right now, with the eighth due next week, if I am interpreting Amazon.jp correctly), but I guess because it’s seinen, it’s serialized less often. Which means after the third Yen Press volume in May (comprising volumes five and six), we might have to wait a while. I will miss Mamejirou in the interim!

MELINDA: As will I! Thanks for bringing this over, Yen Press!

Off the Shelf: Shoujo Fantasy Double Feature

March 23, 2013 by Melinda Beasi and Michelle Smith 22 Comments

MELINDA: Good morning, Michelle! I greet you this morning, dizzy with the particular brand of glee that can only be brought on by epic shoujo fantasy. How about you?

MICHELLE: Much the same, actually! With a side of gratitude that the epic shoujo fantasy in question is a) completely available in English and b) in the process of becoming easier to obtain!

MELINDA: Indeed it is! And really, it is a dream come true. When manga publishers first began launching their various digital initiatives, one of the things many of us hoped for was that these venues would eventually become a platform for re-releasing out of print manga. In particular, I expressed a hope that we might see some of Viz Media’s “scads of fantastic 80s and 90s shoujo,” most of which has become difficult to obtain in print.

Fortunately, Viz seems to be on the same page, as they’ve recently begun releasing some of these older shoujo series in digital form! They began with one of my favorite series of all time, Saki Hiwatari’s 21-volume epic Please Save My Earth (volumes 1-6 are available now), originally serialized in Japan beginning in 1987, followed recently by three series from the early 1990s, Kaori Yuki’s Angel Sanctuary, Chie Shinohara’s Red River, and Kyoko Hikawa’s From Far Away. This week, Michelle and I decided to delve into the latter two of these series, whose first volumes are now available at both vizmanga.com and on Viz’s mobile apps.

Michelle, would you like to choose which we’ll discuss first?

MICHELLE: I’m inclined to save the best for last, which means that in my personal opinion, Red River should go first!

I actually own all of Red River in print, but had never read any of it ’til now. It has the distinction of being the final series in the now-defunct “shojo” imprint to reach completion. Though it starts off rated for older teens, I have a distinct memory of the later volumes being shrinkwrapped, so presumably sexy times will eventually ensue.

Anyway! Both of the series we’re going to discuss today involve a modern-day Japanese schoolgirl being transported to an unfamiliar environment. In the case of Red River, things are looking good for fifteen-year-old Yuri Suzuki. She has just passed the entrance exam for the high school of her choice and shared a first kiss with her good friend turned love interest, Satoshi. But on the evening of her family’s celebration dinner for her achievement (the exam, not the smooch), she begins to notice that water is acting strange around her. Soon, a pair of arms is reaching out to her from fish tanks and bath tubs, trying to pull her in. Though she manages to avoid water for a little while, she’s eventually captured via a puddle and transported to the Hittite Empire in 14th century B.C., where a scheming queen seeks to use her as a sacrifice to ensure that her son (currently sixth in line for the throne) becomes king.

MELINDA: Fortunately, Yuri quickly becomes acquainted with Kail, third son of the king and no friend to his stepmother, the scheming queen. Though he’s a notorious player (whose methods of “saving” Yuri generally involve pretending she’s his sexual conquest—something he’d clearly like to achieve in reality as well), Kail appears to be genuinely trustworthy, at least when his own life is on the line. Unfortunately, though Yuri is grateful for his protection, her desire to return to her own land drives her to recklessness, placing both her life and that of a devoted slave, Tito, in peril.

As it happens, I agree with your choice of which to discuss first (and why), which isn’t to say that I disliked Red River in the slightest. It’s immediately engaging and action-packed, with a relatable, plucky heroine and a fascinating historical setting. Even playboy Kail manages to be a genuinely attractive love interest, despite my weariness with his classic rake persona. What does weaken this story, however, is just how easy things are for Yuri, at least in this first volume.

While it may seem odd that I’d consider her path “easy” at this point—she has been marked for death, after all—there are some ways in which things really are inexplicably so. The issue of language, for instance, is immediately discarded, as Yuri finds she can suddenly understand the Hittite’s tongue simply by kissing Kail (insert inappropriate “tongue” joke here). Because of this, she’s able to grasp her situation immediately, including recognizing exactly where (and when) she is. Also, by being under Kail’s protection, she’s also suddenly a princess, with the ability to stop executions and generally direct people to do her bidding, which puts her in an immediate position of power, at least within Kail’s realm.

MICHELLE: Your last paragraph there neatly encapsulates my main criticism of Red River, though there are things about Kail that bother me, too. (I don’t think he’d follow through with the threat, but dialogue like “Now stop grousing or I’ll bed you for real” will never sit well with me.) It feels a little like Shinohara is squandering this rich environment and the potential for adventure in favor of romance. True, Yuri does end up in peril by the end, but it’s due to her impetuous, uninformed insistence on retrieving her clothes from the scheming queen and pretty much just a plot device designed to allow Kail to swoop in and save the day.

However! This series does run for 28 volumes, so I am willing to acknowledge that the story could move beyond its origins and go interesting, complicated places.

MELINDA: Wholeheartedly agreed! Despite my quibbles (and I do share your discomfort with Kail’s threats—hello, rape culture), 28 volumes of 90s shoujo fantasy is not something I can possibly reject, and my expectations are high!

MICHELLE: Of course, 14 volumes of shoujo fantasy is nothing to sniff at, either. Want to do the honors of introducing From Far Away?

MELINDA: I’d love to! Though half the length of Red River, Kyoko Hikawa’s From Far Away took several years longer to complete, running in Hakusensha’s LaLa magazine from 1993 to 2003. And if the first volume is any indication, this was time well-spent.

High school student Noriko has been experiencing a recurring dream set in a mysterious land filled with gorgeous landscapes and unfamiliar wildlife. As she walks home from school with her friends on one ordinary afternoon, television news anchors warn of a terrorist threat involving small bombs planted around the city by a recently captured suspect. While her friends hash out theories about Noriko’s dream—whether it’s a past life, a portal to another dimension, or pure fantasy fueled by Noriko’s sci-fi author dad—Noriko’s attention is drawn by a stray ball, leading her to an abandoned paper bag which explodes just as she approaches.

Though no trace is left of her body, Noriko is presumed dead. Meanwhile, Noriko has fallen into the same world she’s been dreaming about, where she is identified as “The Awakening,” a supernatural being prophesied to grant power over the legendary Sky Demon—the most destructive evil known in that world—to any nation that possesses it.

MICHELLE: Like Yuri, Noriko is fortunate enough to encounter a formidable ally right off the bat, though things are distinctly less easy for them. Izark might be a powerful warrior who saves Noriko from the political factions attempting to capture her (not to mention gigantic caterpillar things), but the language barrier prevents them from understanding one another and her fear and confusion seems to get on his nerves. Still, he’s unable to ignore her when she’s obviously upset and she comes to trust him. The non-verbal storytelling here is great, and I love that Noriko grows ashamed of her earlier behavior and starts trying to learn the language so that they may better communicate.

Despite being an imaginary fantasy world, the setting here feels more real than the Hittite setting in Red River, and has an abundance of the adventure feeling that I was missing in the other series.

MELINDA: My feelings exactly, Michelle, on all counts. And really, much of this story’s strength is due to the author’s inclination to prioritize adventure over romance, at least in the first volume. Though strong, roguish Izark is clearly leading man material by any shoujo fan’s standards, both he and Noriko are entirely focused on survival at this point in the story, with no romantic action to be found.

Another factor in From Far Away‘s success as fantasy-adventure is its overall complexity and sense of intrigue. While Red River‘s villain is firmly established from the beginning, things are less clear-cut in Noriko’s new world. With every nation competing for control over The Awakening, everyone is a potential enemy, and it’s not clear at all whom we should be rooting for—including Noriko herself! Though it seems fair to hope that our heroine can’t really be the harbinger of evil, it’s little more than a hope this early in the story, and Izark’s origins and intentions are even less clear. Furthermore, the series is already peppered with some extremely interesting supporting characters, including pint-sized seer Geena Haas, her mercenary father Agol, and a whole host of potential enemies who are aggressively hunting The Awakening.

Perhaps most telling is the fact that as soon as I finished From Far Away‘s first volume, I rushed to purchase the second. I suspect I’ll begin reading it the moment we’ve finish this column.

MICHELLE: I also wanted to immediately proceed to the second volume! I actually read and reviewed the first five volumes of From Far Away a little over three years ago, and though I no longer remember specifics, I remember feeling that it just kept getting better and better.

I do want to mention a couple of random thoughts. Something about the setting of this world—probably the huge insects and people standing whilst piloting flying craft/creatures—reminds me of Nausicaä of the Valley of Wind, and it’s not a comparison in which From Far Away suffers. Too, I wonder if the story will take on a Life on Mars idea… like, is Noriko dead/injured in the present day or is she really experiencing all of this? Granted, it doesn’t seem at all like Hikawa plans to go in this direction, but what with the bombing and witnesses to Noriko’s disappearance, it makes me wonder.

MELINDA: I’ve been wondering that, too, Michelle! Unlike Yuri in Red River, Noriko really is assumed to be dead in her world—and reasonably so—which immediately puts her mortal status in question, and also raises questions about what place she’ll have back in her world if she really is alive and able to return. I also can’t help being curious about Noriko’s father, whose career as a science fiction writer just makes him… interesting. And potentially involved somehow? Who knows?

I think it’s pretty obvious that we find this series compelling.

MICHELLE I’d say so!

Of course, no column like this would be complete without me throwing in a plea for Basara to be the next out-of-print epic shoujo fantasy in VIZ’s catalog to receive the digital treatment.

MELINDA: I second that plea and add (predictably) Akimi Yoshida’s Banana Fish! Because, let’s face it, Yoshida’s New York is every bit the fantasy that is Tamura’s post-apocalyptic Japan. Bring ’em on, Viz!

Read Red River and From Far Away at vizmanga.com.

Off the Shelf: Dark Horse Saves the Day

March 16, 2013 by Melinda Beasi and Michelle Smith 7 Comments

MICHELLE: Life’s a funny thing, you know. Within a span of two days, JManga calls it quits, but a Veronica Mars film becomes a (future) reality. Without the latter to buoy my spirits, I would’ve been much more crushed by the former.

MELINDA: Since I wasn’t a Veronica Mars fan (I know, I know, everyone says I should watch it), I admit I’m just kind of existing in a shell-shocked haze. Between JManga and Google Reader, I’m feeling pretty disoriented in my digital world right now.

MICHELLE: I’m sad about Google Reader, too! It seems like all the other alternatives are too fussy. I want a minimalist option. Anyway, was there anything in the world of manga to cheer you?

MELINDA: Fortunately, there was. Though this week became tragic in multiple ways, it began at least with the blissful knowledge that we’d finally be seeing Tokyo Babylon, my favorite CLAMP manga, back in print. Originally published by TOKYOPOP, the series was officially out of print (with a few volumes still easily available online) long before the company shut down its North American publishing operations. Fortunately, Dark Horse announced in 2011 that they’d be adding the series to their growing catalogue of CLAMP omnibus releases. It was originally slated for publication later that year, leading some of us to wonder whether we’d gotten our hopes up too soon, but the first volume finally hit some stores this week! I’m still waiting for my print copy to ship from Amazon, but I was able to preview a PDF of the book, which has temporarily tided me over.

So, it’s no secret that I love Tokyo Babylon. In fact, I once volunteered to host the CLAMP MMF purely out of a desire to make people talk about it. It’s a concise, fairly intimate series that somehow manages to feel genuinely epic (and genuinely tragic) over the course of just seven short volumes (Dark Horse is doing it in two). I’ve already written about the full series at length, both in my original review of it at Comics Should Be Good and in our roundtable discussion last year, so I won’t spend time repeating myself here. Instead, I’ll talk about what’s different in Dark Horse’s edition.

Unfortunately, since I haven’t yet received my print volume, I can’t personally confirm anything about paper quality or trim size, except to (happily) note that Dark Horse’s website lists it as 5 3/4″ x 8 1/4, which was the same size as their Cardcaptor Sakura volumes—and the ideal format for CLAMP’s gorgeous artwork, in my opinion. I’ll be absolutely thrilled, assuming this is the case. Volume one also boasts of “over a dozen” color pages—most of which are, I believe, the same color pages that TOKYOPOP’s editions contained, though there may be extras I’m not noticing as I read through the PDF preview.

What I can confirm is that Dark Horse’s English adaptation is noticeably different, presumably thanks to the hand of its new editor, Carl Horn. Carl has a gift for making English dialogue really come alive, and his influence is apparent immediately. For example, in the beginning of the first chapter, Subaru innocently describes a scene in which a spirit he exorcised turned out to be the ghost of a young girl who committed suicide after being cruelly dumped by the celebrity whose bed she was haunting every night.

In TOKYOPOP’s version, Subaru mentions that the girl’s strongest memories were not of the room itself, but just of the bed, at which point Hokuto laughs, “In other words, the only thing that guy showed her was the ceiling in his bedroom!” In Dark Horse’s new version, it’s Subaru who wonders at the fact that it was only the ceiling of the room that the girl remembered, giving Hokuto the response, “I guess that’s the only part the guy ever showed her!” It’s a small change, but moving the detail about the ceiling to Subaru just makes the joke work better. It’s somehow much, much funnier. And this kind of thing continues throughout the volume.

MICHELLE: I hadn’t really planned on buying the series over again, but if it’s got a better, more natural English adaptation, then perhaps I ought to reconsider. I believe Carl Horn’s also known for writing entertaining end notes—has he done that this time, too?

MELINDA: He hasn’t (at least not in the PDF I have), and in fact there are actually fewer notes than in TOKYOPOP’s version, as Dark Horse’s doesn’t include a glossary and doesn’t require endnote translations for the sound-effects, either (they are translated right alongside in Dark Horse’s edition). But I really do recommend the new adaptation. Plus, if the trim size is as promised, it’s going to be gorgeous. I’m hoping they’ve used really nice paper, too.

The one difference I haven’t mentioned so far is one that genuinely concerns me, though I hope to have that concern abated shortly. In the TOKYOPOP editions, Hokuto’s terrific side-story (you know, the one where she basically becomes awesomeness incarnate) is included at the end of volume two. But though Dark Horse’s first omnibus spans partway through volume four of TOKYOPOP’s edition, her side story is yet to be found. I’m hoping that it’s just been put into the second volume, and I have an e-mail out to Dark Horse to confirm this, but I’ve yet to receive a reply. Edited to add 3/18/13: Carl Horn says yes, the story will appear! Hokuto fans everywhere rejoice! (It all comes down to the tankobon vs. bunko editions—if you want more detail ask me in comments.)

MICHELLE: That is worrying, but I can’t imagine that they wouldn’t include it!

MELINDA: I’ll be sure to report back!

So, have you found any manga to ease your pain this week, Michelle?

MICHELLE: Sort of. My solo read for this week was the first volume of Durarara!! Saika Arc, which is a sequel series to the regular Durarara!! that I’ve talked about a few times before. I didn’t always like the original—sometimes it didn’t make sense, and I took issue with a couple of female characters happily falling in love with killers—but it remained intriguing, chiefly due to the fascinating headless “black rider,” Celty.

Perhaps I should backtrack a little. This series is set in Ikebukuro, where all manner of strange characters dwell. The first series was primarily the saga of Celty’s missing head, but now it’s a year later and something strange and new has begun. The area is being plagued by a slasher, whose non-fatal attacks have been increasing in frequency lately. The slasher links together some seemingly unconnected story elements—interrupting bullies as they gang up on a girl who feels disconnected from the world, attacking a reporter working on a feature about who’s the strongest in Ikebukuro—and ends up with Celty on his trail and Shizuo Heiwajima (a guy with massive brute strength that he can’t control) in his heart. Although there’s more to it than that. In, like, a supernatural way.

So far, this is shaping up to be a lot more linear than the original, and I’d say a definite improvement. Granted, I would probably be fascinated by just about anything Celty did. I suppose one could start here, as the story is so far very self-contained, but it would probably be disorienting to encounter so many characters at once. (Not unlike the beginning of the original, actually.)

MELINDA: I was going to ask about exactly that, actually. I could not get into the original no matter how hard I tried, and I thought I might have better luck with this. But I do wonder if I’d be able to figure out what was going on.

MICHELLE: I think you probably could. There are only a couple of references to what happened in the first series, and no real lingering plot threads. The real challenge would be all the “who the heck is this person?!” moments you’d encounter. Even for me, there are a still a couple of characters whose names I don’t know, but they barely appear. (Actually, why even bother including them? I do not know.)

Anyway, I like it well enough to continue with it.

Looks like it’s your turn to introduce our mutual read this time!

MELINDA: Indeed it is!

This week, we both read Emerald and Other Stories, a collection of short manga by Hiroaki Samura, creator of Blade of the Immortal. I’ll admit that I’ve actually not read any of Blade of the Immortal, but though this short manga collection is a little uneven (as all short manga collections seem to be), I found enough to like in it that I’m anxious now to read more of Samura-sensei’s work.

Samura comments at the end of the volume that this collection was originally called Sister Generator, because he’d noticed that nearly all of its main characters were women—and that is probably the biggest draw for me here. The stories start strong, beginning with a tale set in the American Old West, in which a woman hires a male “hero” (in this world, “heroes,” are often just really successful criminals) to save a young girl from a life of servitude to the owner of a brothel—not that the “hero” has any idea that this is what he’s being hired for. It’s a tense, well-told story with a fairly nuanced take on Old West morality and its challenges for women, and a seriously badass female lead, all of which is certainly the key to my heart.

As the volume continues, the content varies widely, from a somewhat uncomfortably erotic story about a teen girl’s final days with her dying father, to a semi-autobiographical story-within-a-sci-fi-story, to a series of humorous schoolgirl vignettes called, “The Uniforms Stay On.” And though I’ve described the collection as “uneven,” I should clarify to say that even in its weakest moments (a story written about a guy’s embarrassing rock-song confession probably worked the least well for me) there is always something brilliant or intriguing to latch on to.

The gag comics are unusually funny. The fantasy comics are surprisingly coherent. The erotic elements are genuinely erotic, even when they’re vaguely uncomfortable. And though some of that can be chalked up to Samura’s thoughtful, detailed artwork, he’s also just a really strong storyteller. So often, stories in short manga collections feel… experimental (read: unfinished) and that’s not at all the case here. Each short story reads as a real story, and that’s a rare find in this format. I was more than pleasantly surprised.

MICHELLE: Wow, I am so tempted to say “what she said,” because I think you touched on most of my own reactions, too.

“Emerald” is probably my favorite story of the bunch, simply because I love a clever female lead, and this one has two of them. I didn’t see where it was going at first, but it surprised me, and ended up being wholly satisfying, which is quite a rare thing for a short story. And, in fact, being surprised was somewhat of a theme here. I don’t necessarily mean plot events, either, but more in the line of a story not really being what you thought it was, like “Shizuru Cinema,” the story of the aspiring manga artist and his high-school aged girlfriend/muse. “Uniforms” was often genuinely amusingly random—the girls discuss things as various as religion, Korean influence, and pig-spinach hybrids—and I liked “Brigitte’s Dinner” quite a bit, too. That one had kind of a happy ending, actually, if the last few pages mean what I think they mean.

I’m with you regarding the love song story working the least well—it also has some final pages of murky meaning—and I was also completely baffled by the autobiographical tale of some mahjong game, and squicked by “The Kusein Family’s Grandest Show,” but on the whole this was a very strong collection. And I love Samura’s artwork, which is even more impressive in Blade of the Immortal (of which I have admittedly only read one volume).

MELINDA: I’m quite certain you’re reading the end of “Brigitte’s Dinner” as intended! I thought it was a happy ending of a sort, too. And actually, “of a sort” is key here, because one of the book’s greatest strengths is that nothing is really black and white. I don’t want to spoil that story for anyone, so I’ll refrain from explaining exactly what I mean, but it’s the kind of story that is both tragic and happy at the same time. Much like real life.

MICHELLE: I agree. Dark Horse’s back cover describes these stories as “seven powerful, short pieces” and that’s really true. Too often, short stories are forgettable. Or, maybe there will be one good one, and then a bunch of others that drift out of your brain a couple of hours after reading them. But here we have several strong ones that I think will stay with me a while.

MELINDA: Same here. So, after a rough week, I’ll thank Dark Horse manga for stepping up to save the day!

Off the Shelf: Teahouse, Love Spell, Barrage

March 2, 2013 by Melinda Beasi and Michelle Smith 1 Comment

MELINDA: Good morning, Michelle! We’ve both been so busy, it feels like we haven’t talked in weeks. Good thing it’s time for Off the Shelf!

MICHELLE: It literally *has* been weeks since we’ve had one of these, what with our recent time off. I just can’t read as much as I’d like these days.

MELINDA: It’s a busy time, for sure. So, with your limited time, what have you been digging into this week?

MICHELLE: Well, I managed to finally get around to reading the first volume of Ameiro Kochakan Kandan, which JManga released back in January. The title translates to Chatting at the Amber Teahouse, and in fact that’s the title used all over JManga’s edition. Why they didn’t just call it that (instead of using the Japanese title, which I have great difficulty remembering), I do not know. Anyway, I found this slice-of-life yuri story from Miyabi Fujieda to be pretty charming! Oh, it’s decidedly uncomplicated, but that doesn’t keep one from enjoying the chaste (so far) love story.

Tucked away in a peaceful neighborhood is a little shop called The Amber Teahouse. Its proprietor, Seriho, is a tea enthusiast who opened the shop with lottery winnings. She’s not exactly scatterbrained, but she could use some looking after. Enter her one employee, responsible high school student Sarasa, who loves the teahouse (and Seriho) so much that she decides to go to school to become a pastry chef rather than attend some prestigious university. There’s a nice metaphor early on that likens their relationship to a “pot-san,” who made tea that no one came to drink, and the “cosy-san” who arrived and kept the pot warm ’til customers finally came around. Only by the end of the volume are there inklings of a possible romantic relationship between them; so far it’s mostly “stay with me for the next 50 years and then some” and lines like that.

Probably I have actually made this sound a little more plot-centric than it actually is. Many of the chapters are quite short, and some can be summed up like, “Sarasa and Seriho ponder adding sweets to the menu.” The art style is quite simplistic, with a few stock character designs that remind me a little of K-ON! and its ilk. Certainly this series isn’t likely to win any awards for profundity, but I liked it and found it much more my speed than Hanjuku Joshi, which we talked about a couple weeks ago.

MELINDA: I have to say that the teahouse setting sounds very appealing to me. I love stories set in the workplace, and this kind of workplace in particular really does the trick. Ever since Antique Bakery, I guess… in any case, it sounds quite charming. I’ll admit that I’m not incredibly fond of the type of artwork you describe, but it’s popular these days, so what can you do?

MICHELLE: It didn’t bother me much in the main story itself. It’s a bit worse, and some of the side characters more outrageous, in the prequel stories at the end of the volume, but since those were written first, I tried not to let them diminish my opinion of the main series.

Anyways! What have you been reading this week?

MELINDA: Well, I began my week with volume two of Demon Love Spell, the latest from Mayu Shinjo. Though I haven’t always been a fan of her work, the first volume of this series charmed me pretty thoroughly, so I was definitely looking forward to digging in further.

For those just joining in, Demon Love Spell is the story of a shrine maiden named Miko, who (through a series of wacky events) has become attached to an incubus named Kagura, without whom she’s unable to see spirits. Though Kagura is an incredibly powerful demon, he spends most of his waking hours in cute, hamster-sized form, only receiving the physical love he requires to maintain his power by entering Miko’s nighttime dreams, during which she’s able to leave behind her daytime inhibitions. It’s a premise that should be creepy as all hell, but somehow manages to be palatable, mainly thanks to the fact that most of the real power in the relationship has been granted to Miko.

Volume two starts off pretty irresistibly, by introducing an adorable fox (I mean adorable) who has fallen in love with a human girl. He wants to be with her so much that he gives up all of the usual fox behavior in order to for her to be happy. Though he’s not quite able to attain full human form—he’s still got his fox ears—he resolves to try to be with the girl. For reasons I won’t mention here (spoilers!), this is impossible. Furthermore, he’s mistaken our heroine, Miko, for the young priestess he fell in love with, leading to lots of confusion on her part and some pretty intense jealousy from Kagura. The fox story is sweet and tragic and just the kind of thing guaranteed to tug my heartstrings, but the story’s real focus is on Kagura, and his slow realization that Miko’s love is more important to him and better able to sustain him than their sexual activity.

The concept is kind of trite, but the execution really works, and even the volume’s second story arc—involving Kagura’s relentless pursuit of a promised “lovey-dovey day”—is able to continue along these lines without becoming tiresome or creepy. I have to say, it’s kind of a strange treat to be able to read some seriously trashy shoujo that doesn’t make my skin crawl. And even when it possibly should, Shinjo’s artwork is so adorable and her humor so charming, she’s able to keep things just light and airy enough to avoid giving offense.

MICHELLE: That is an adorable fox! Especially the one semi-flattened ear.

This does sound fairly promising for a Mayu Shinjo title, but the question I’m left with is… does Kagura’s realization regarding love in any way dissuade him from sexing up Miko during her dreams? It’s not that she isn’t a fully willing participant, but not remembering it was seriously troubling her in the first volume, if I recall rightly.

MELINDA: Actually, it does. It’s interesting how Shinjo manages to pull it all off, too. Since Kagura’s an incubus, his character would fall apart were he to become any less, er, sexually driven. But she’s managed to awaken Kagura to some ideas about love and respect that don’t feel incongruous with his need for female attention. She’s just shifted things slightly towards emotional gratification rather than only physical gratification, and it somehow works. Also, I’m impressed by her ability to make the fox-ears bit genuinely funny. I feel like my dislike for Ai Ore! has caused me to deny her the credit she’s due as a romantic comedy writer. It’s nice to be proven wrong.

So, we have a mutual read to share this week as well. Wanna hit us with an introduction?

MICHELLE: Sure!

Barrage is a quite recent Shonen Jump series that is making its English-language debut next Tuesday. This two-volume series is the story of “spunky slum kid” Astro who ends up taking the place of spoiled Prince Barrage, who flees his duty to protect Planet Industria from hordes of invading aliens and is promptly dispatched by an assassin. Astro’s primary motivation in accepting the dangerous task is to provide a home for the gaggle of abandoned kids that he’s been caring for, but when he ventures out of the relatively peaceful capital and discovers that losing one’s family is routine for people in more war-torn parts of the planet, he realizes that it’s up to him to protect them. (I should mention here that Astro can wield a special royal weapon, the orgue, and that he’s being accompanied on his journey by Tiamat, a military officer who’ll teach him how to fight.)

All of this may sound rather generic, but there are some things about the story that set it apart. For one thing, Astro spends hardly any time pretending to be Barrage, and comes clean to the king almost immediately. For another, though he is brave and has this swanky weapon, he’s still just a kid who needs instruction. There were several spots in the story that made me giggle and only a couple that made me snerk. Despite its teen rating (probably due to the violence), this reads like a kid-centric tale, and so you get bad guys making proclamations like, “I am an elite spy from Planet Assassinia!” How stealthy!

MELINDA: It is generic, certainly, but I think what makes that okay is that it doesn’t try to pretend it’s not. Instead of trying to make all of its well-worn plot points seem like something new, author Kouhei Horikoshi really embraces the story’s comfy familiarity and just works to make that as much fun as possible. I may never get the sense that Astro is in real danger and it’s difficult to imagine that anything truly surprising will ever happen (though, as you say, having Astro come clean so early on was a nice touch), but the truth is, I’m having too good a time to care.

Despite the fact that he’s saddled with some pretty heavy-handed messages about responsibility and family, Astro is a genuinely lovable hero, who manages to be headstrong and impulsive without the strong resistance to authority or even to asking for help that so often goes along with that—perhaps another indication that it’s a kid-centric title. He’s unwilling to give in to calls to duty when families are on the line, but he’s also willing (and even eager) to please his planet’s King and to take instruction in combat from Tiamat—a far more experienced fighter than he. Conversely, he doesn’t have any of the prickly pride that shounen heroes often display, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s easy to control, as his devotion to the concept of “family” comes before all else. It’s an interesting combination, really, and feels oddly refreshing.

Also, I kind of adore Tiamat. He’s pretty kick-ass, but vulnerable at the same time—a killer combination for me.

MICHELLE: You’ll have to imagine me sitting over here nodding, ‘cos I was doing a fair amount of it. I especially like your comments regarding Astro and how he differs from the typical shounen hero. Some of the same good qualities, some of the same bad (or at least impulsive) ones, but personal hangups all his own. I’m really interested to see how the series wraps up in the second volume, and I also wonder whether it was intended to be this short or if it was a casualty of one of those popularity contests we see all the time in Bakuman.

MELINDA: Yeah, I was wondering about that, too. I hope it at least got a decent wrap-up, either way. And I’ll certainly be looking forward to whatever’s next from this artist.

Off the Shelf: Explosions, Missions, & Mecha

February 9, 2013 by Melinda Beasi and Michelle Smith 3 Comments

MICHELLE: Hey, Melinda! I’d make a joke here, but after viewing various pictures of startling amounts of snowfall, I just hope you’re staying warm!

MELINDA: I am! We may be buried in snow, but at least we have electricity! We’re very lucky.

MICHELLE: That’s good! I presume having some electricity means that you’re up for talking about some manga this morning!

MELINDA: I am indeed! Though it’s possible that the snowstorm is at least partly responsible for today’s choice of reading. As I perused my stack of books to review this morning, I was immediately drawn to Junya Inoue’s BTOOOM!, a debut series from Yen Press with a decidedly survivalist feel.

Ryouta is a “loser,” according to the book’s marketing materials, and while I think that characterization may be a little harsh, for the moment we’ll go with it. He’s an avid gamer with dreams of working in the video game industry, but with these dreams yet to be fulfilled, he’s essentially a freeloader living off his mom while rejecting her efforts to secure him some kind of paying job. He’s especially skilled at an online game called “BTOOOM!,” in which players fight each other only with a variety of small explosive devices. Having defeated the game’s entire pool of Japanese players, he’s ready to move on to world domination, but the world apparently has other plans.

One morning, Ryouta wakes up to find himself hanging from a parachute on a remote tropical island. He doesn’t know where he is or how he got there, but through a series of (occasionally deadly) encounters, soon discovers that he’s been placed into a sort of real-world rendering of “BTOOOM,” in which he must kill other real-life players in order to escape the “game.” As other players help him put the pieces together (or try to blow him to pieces, depending on their dedication), Ryouta battles his own conscience and sense of humanity as he struggles to survive.

As you may have already determined from reading my description, there’s nothing remotely original about BTOOOM! or its hero’s inner struggle, at least not so far. Stories like these are so common and so evenly spread across every storytelling medium in existence, that it’s impossible for me to even identify Inoue’s specific influences. That said, I can’t deny that I had a good time. Setups like these become cliches for a reason—when done well (or even passably), they work, and BTOOOM! is no exception. Even as I rolled my eyes at the series’ premise, I found myself becoming engaged in Ryouta’s story, and chances are I’ll tune in for more.

MICHELLE: Yeah, as I was reading your description there were various other stories that kept springing to mind, but I agree—this one looks potentially interesting. I like the cover, too. I’m not sure why little boxes with timers on them look cool, but they do, so just go with it, I suppose!

MELINDA: Exactly! Sometimes familiar-but-fun is exactly enough to satisfy, and I feel like the cover conveys the truth of that pretty well.

So what have you got for us today?

MICHELLE: This week I decided to check out the first two volumes of Ema Toyama’s Missions of Love (published by Kodansha Comics). Despite generally enjoying Toyama’s I Am Here!, I was fairly skeptical about this one, largely due to its Japanese title (Watashi ni XX Shinasai!) translating more or less to “Do XX to me!” I was expecting something smutty, an impression that the cover images seem to wish to reinforce. As it turns out, though, there’s really no smut in sight.

With her icy glare, third-year junior high student Yukina Himuro is known to her classmates as the “Absolute Zero Snow Woman.” Little do they know that she’s actually the famous cell phone novelist, Yupina, and the reason she always seems to be staring at them is that she’s gathering material for her stories. One student who has never been able to inspire her is the most popular boy in class, Shigure Kitami, who always maintains the same smiling, pleasant demeanor. When Yukina learns that her fans would prefer more love scenes, she’s troubled, since she’s convinced she’ll never be able to experience love herself and will therefore not be able to write about it convincingly. Luckily, she promptly stumbles upon proof that Kitami is not what he seems and uses this to blackmail him into doing things like holding her hand, clutching her to his manly bosom, etc. so that she can produce updates to her story that make her fans’ hearts skip a beat.

By the end of volume two, Yukina and Kitami seem to be on the path to developing real feelings for each other, but there’s still a lot of contention and distrust in their relationship. He has discovered her secret weakness—it’s pretty dumb—and uses this against her, but feels bad when she ends up hurt by what happens. Meanwhile, Yukina’s cousin and only friend, Akira, reveals that he loves her and wishes she’d use him for boyfriend experience instead of Kitami the creep.

Honestly, I am not sure what I think about Missions of Love at this point. The leads are struggling between their real selves and their facades, and as a result, sometimes they’re likeable and sometimes they’re not. Sometimes Yukina is smart—she skillfully deflects several of Kitami’s attempts to trip her up—and sometimes quite dense, especially when pondering such shoujoriffic concepts as “This pounding in my chest… what does it mean?” Akira has potential to stir things up, but so far his primary character trait is that he’s always snacking. There must be something to this series—after all, it won a Kodansha Award last year (for best children’s manga, while here it’s rated for older teens)—but so far the only things tempting me to continue are the brief glimpses of the story Yukina’s writing and the idea that eventually Kitami is going to give up his disguise (which has already begun to slip) and face the consequences.

MELINDA: Hm. Well, so far it sounds like it possibly could benefit from some of that smut its title promised. Well, maybe not for you, but I’m feeling the tediousness of the heart-pounding revelation pretty keenly here. Also, I’m already anticipating the pain of Guy #2. Am I way off-base on that?

MICHELLE: Not even a little. This is about as clear-cut a case of Guy #2 as there could ever be. Kitami might be a jerk, but he’s the one. Here’s a scene in which Yukina describes why Akira’s not suitable for her experiment:

Yukina: Akira is my cousin; he means a lot to me. I could never do to him what I’m doing to you.
Kitami: So you can’t use him, but you can use me?!
Yukina: Of course I can use you!! You’re the one that makes my heart skip a beat!

Of course this is said while clutching the back of his jacket in the way shoujo heroines do.

MELINDA: Poor Guy #2… sigh.

MICHELLE: Yep.

But now for something completely different! I am really eager to talk about this one, but I’m curious to see how you’d describe it, so you wanna introduce it for us?

MELINDA: Sure! So, our mutual read this week is volume one of Knights of Sidonia, a new science fiction series from Vertical, created by Tsutomu Nihei, the author of Blame! I’ve never read Blame! nor seen the anime adaptation, but after getting this taste of Nihei’s work, I can’t deny that I now want to.

Nagate has lived his whole life in the “underground” of an enormous space ship, with only his now-deceased grandfather for company. Though it was grandpa’s wish that Nagate never leave their isolated environment, hunger sends Nagate on a quest for rice that ultimately brings him to the attention of the ship’s larger human society. Things have changed drastically since grandpa’s days, with most humans now possessing the ability to photosynthesize for sustenance and some bred from both human and animal species. Humans have also officially developed beyond the gender binary to include people who are neither male nor female and who can reproduce with either (or even just by themselves).

Human evolution aside, however, there is at least one aspect of Nagate’s lifelong isolation that has made him a real asset to his new human community. With little else to occupy him, Nagate logged an enormous number of hours in a battle simulator designed to train humans to operate a type of mecha known as “Garde”—the humans’ only defense against the alien Gauna who wiped out human life on Earth centuries ago. Nagate’s skill earns him the right to pilot Tsugumori, an older Garde with legendary status, much to the dismay of at least one other young trainee. Though piloting mecha and fighting the Gauna are the focus of Knights of Sidonia‘s plot, the story’s real drama so far really comes out of Nagate’s attempts to navigate a new social environment that still holds a lot of mystery for him.

MICHELLE: I am not going to be coy. I pretty much loved Knights of Sidonia with every fiber of my being.

I have read BLAME! (and really liked it), so I can’t help but approach Knights of Sidonia with an eye for comparison. It’s true that BLAME! had many story elements that weren’t fully explained to the reader, but so far, there is less of that with Sidonia. On a few occasions, readers are propelled into scenes without explanation, but Nihei’s very good about filling in the details in a timely fashion. The characters are more accessible—more human, despite whatever evolution they’ve undergone—and the overall tone and look is lighter.

But oh, that look. I’m not the greatest connoisseur of manga art, but there’s just something about Tsutomu Nihei’s style that pushes my buttons in a big way. I LOVE the labyrinthine feel of the place, which reinforces Sidonia’s immensity. Doors, pipes, tubes, stairs, deep dark abysses… I simply cannot get enough. I even love the mecha, and the fact that the chapter title page illustrations constitute a gallery of random spots around the ship is just icing on the cake.

I feel like I should probably comment on Nagate’s attempts to adapt—and don’t get me wrong, I loved all of that, too—but I’m so rarely bowled over by art that I’m taking advantage of the opportunity to wallow in it a bit.

MELINDA: Wallow away! This manga earns it. I can get right on board with your admiration of Nihei’s artwork, too. It’s detailed and mysterious—much like the story itself. But while there is still a lot of mystery still for readers (as well as for Nagate) at the end of the first volume, that sense of the unknown is far from overwhelming. I’ll admit that I had to read the book twice in order to feel that I really understood it, but I honestly don’t consider that a negative in any way. I’m a fast reader, but it’s not too often that a single volume captures me so easily that I’m really happy to re-read it immediately afterwards, just to catch more of its details.

I’m also really anxious to find out more about some of the series’ mysteries, both in terms of the sci-fi plotline (What are the Gauna? What really happened back on Earth? Why does Nagate seem to possess inhuman skill?) as well as the already-complicated human relationships (What’s Izana’s story? And what’s the deal with Kunato?). I’m very much on the edge of my seat at this point.

MICHELLE: Me, too! And that’s why it delights me to report that this series is at nine volumes in Japan and still ongoing. This is longer than Nihei’s six-volume Biomega (recently released by VIZ and which I now feel an urgent need to finally read) and likely to be longer than BLAME!, which has ten volumes. A story like this needs as much time as possible to really unfurl its layers. Happily, it looks like Vertical has scheduled volume two for April, so maybe we’ll get regular bimonthly releases!

I did want to note… even though mecha stories certainly aren’t new, and even though there were a few scenes (like the assembly wherein the awesome and capable captain informs everyone about the threat) that reminded me of Battlestar Galactica, Knights of Sidonia never once felt derivative to me. I think the details and careful world-building are largely responsible for that.

MELINDA: Agreed all-around! Knights of Sidonia is a real treat, and I’m anxious for more!

Off the Shelf: Three from JManga

February 2, 2013 by Melinda Beasi and Michelle Smith 1 Comment

MELINDA: Good morning, Michelle!

MICHELLE: Good morning! I’m fixin’ to eat some corn chex!

MELINDA: That sounds delicious! Any manga to share this week along with your corn chex?

MICHELLE: As a matter of fact, yes!

So, you might remember that in a BL Bookrack column from a year ago, I praised Yuiji Aniya’s Men of Tattoos. When JManga recently acquired another one-shot of hers, DROPS, I knew I had to read it. (I do note, however, that there’s no BL in this volume at all.)

Like Men of Tattoos, DROPS is a collection of interconnected short stories, this time about the members of the Matsuno family. The first, “A Taste of First Love” stars the youngest Matsuno, grumpy and chubby 15-year-old Shizuku, as he realizes that his first love has feelings for his pervy friend (and as he is utterly oblivious to the feelings another girl has for him). Subsequent chapters focus on Shizuku’s four older sisters and their romantic lives, while Shizuku himself grows older in the background. There’s a chapter about the twins, Kaede and Momiji, who are in search of a man they can share. One about Tsubaki, the rebellious second-oldest sister who has finally found a reason to stay at home. And one about Hisagi, the responsible eldest sister, who finally gets the chance to be selfish and irresponsible. By the time the final chapter rolls around, Shizuku is a 22-year-old hottie attending his friends’ wedding.

It’s probably Hisagi’s story I like best, as Aniya likens her life—slowly brewing, but becoming more delicious—to sake, but each is pretty entertaining in its own right. I like Aniya’s omniscient narration and some of the over-the-top comedy, and though there are quite a few sexual situations, they’re all light-hearted and character-driven. Also, I simply must share these panels from Tsubaki’s story, because they’re just so silly and awesome.

Ultimately, this was quite a fun read and one that probably didn’t have much chance of making it as a print edition. It’s very much a comedy, but one with thoughtful moments, too. I think I am officially a Yuiji Aniya fan.

MELINDA: I never read Men of Tattoos, and now I’m regretting that even more. This sounds like exactly my kind of short manga! I’m not a big fan of short manga in general, as you know, but interconnected stories are much more attractive to me, and I’m loving the sound of these. Also, those panels are delightful!

MICHELLE: These may be short stories, but as a whole they form something satisfying, so they don’t feel as skimpy as they otherwise might. I do think you’d like them! Join me on the Aniya bandwagon!

Anyhoo, I suspect you’ve got some manga you’d like to talk about, too!

MELINDA: I do, though my experience wasn’t nearly as satisfying!

Normally I’d save this for BL Bookrack, but I have a pretty full docket this month, so since we’re all about JManga this week, I thought I’d talk about it here. After discussing the cute cover a few weeks ago, I decided to check out Pochi and Tama, a recent BL one-shot from Libre Publishing, created by Fumiko Shusai and Yura Tamaki.

Tama and Pochi have been a couple for six years, and they’re finally taking the big step of moving in together. They’ve been calling each other by the names “Tama” and “Pochi” since the very first time they were introduced, thanks to their cat and dog-like natures, respectively. Domestic life has its challenges—mainly Tama’s concern that Pochi is always taking care of him (and their apartment) without receiving any help from him—but mostly they’re a sweet, happy couple whose biggest worry is whether one of their womanizing friends might try to hit on Pochi’s refined little sister, Kana.

And… really, that’s it. Though I’m generally a fan of the rare variety of BL manga that focuses on established relationships over first love, without any significant conflict or some other catalyst for real character development, there’s just a bit too little going on to make this a satisfying story. Tama and Pochi are adorable, Pochi’s sister is adorable, and even the womanizing friends (who, in true BL form, end up having a thing for each other in the end) are pretty close to adorable, but there’s not much more to say about any of them. The most interesting moments in the whole manga are the one or two brief appearances by Tama’s awesomely straightforward female friend Mariko, which gets the book off to a strong start. Unfortunately, things peter out shortly after her exit from the page. Also, on a perplexing note, though the authors make much of the characters’ cat and dog-like personalities—a not-uncommon theme in BL manga— here in Pochi and Tama, it seems to be all talk. Neither of them displays any significant characteristics of these animals that I’m familiar with, making the whole theme of the thing feel very much on the surface.

I realize it sounds here like I hated Pochi and Tama, and that’s really not true. It is a perfectly pleasant manga filled with perfectly pleasant people, and there are some genuinely cute moments. But I’ll admit, I hoped for more.

MICHELLE: Oh, that’s too bad. It definitely looked really cute, but maybe it’s too cute, not enough substance. Because the characters have been in a relationship for a while before the story begins—and because of the kitty references—I wonder if you were expecting something as great as My Darling Kitten Hair.

MELINDA: You know, I might have been. And probably that’s unfair to Pochi and Tama, given how much I love My Darling Kitten Hair, but I can’t deny that I was disappointed.

So, would you like to introduce our mutual read for this week?

MICHELLE: Sure!

One of the many good things about JManga is their commitment to releasing yuri series. This week, Melinda and I read the debut volume of one of the most recent—Akiko Morishima’s Hanjuku Joshi, which seems to translate into “soft-boiled girls/women.”

Yae Sakura and Chitose Hayami are first-years at an all-girls high school. Without any boys around, the atmosphere there is quite relaxed and the first time we meet Chitose, she’s casually topless in the classroom. In contrast to boyish, uninhibited Chitose, Yae doesn’t like herself. She’s frustrated with her girly hobbies and feminine appearance and this results in her not seeming to enjoy herself much at school. Seeing this, Chitose decides to take Yae under her wing and help her have a bit more fun.

Friendship pretty quickly turns into chest aches and warm feelings, and after a promiscuous upperclassman accuses Yae and Chitose of merely playing at love, things start to get more serious between them. From this point on, the girls’ progressing physical relationship—and, indeed, it’s mostly physical, as when conflicts arise they’re swiftly resolved so that the making out can resume—is intercut with scenes of the upperclassman getting it on with a prim teacher.

I didn’t dislike Hanjuku Joshi or anything, but it’s not exactly emotionally subtle or complex yuri.

MELINDA: You know, I think I had the same reaction as you did for about the first half of the manga, but I actually really appreciated the second half, which delved more deeply into both relationships—that between Yae and Chitose and that between the teacher and the upperclassman, whose relationship is made more complicated by the men in their lives and the upcoming wedding of the teacher’s first love (also a woman). The teacher’s story is particularly poignant, as she comes to terms with the fact that, unlike her first love, she’s simply never going to be happy with a boyfriend. Fortunately, her new lover feels the same way, and though their relationship was first based on only sex, there’s obviously much more potential there.

The older characters (especially the teacher) are also openly envious of the two freshman, whose lives have not been complicated yet by the expectation that they’ll pair off with boys, and I felt like the juxtaposition of these two primary relationships is what made this particular yuri series feel to me like it’s written for women rather than solely as fanservice for men. Sure, there are a lot of sexy scenes in Hanjuki Joshi, but there’s also some real exploration of the characters’ actual sexuality and what it means for them in their lives.

On a personal note, I also really appreciated Yae as a character for her discomfort with her feminine traits—both physical and personality-wise. It’s something I struggled with myself a lot at her age, and it’s not something I’ve seen addressed often in fiction. You see “tomboy” characters all the time, but rarely girls who are something less neatly defined. Probably that alone was largely responsible for my enjoyment of this manga.

MICHELLE: You know, for all of its steamy scenes, I also never got the feeling that they were written purely for a male audience. And I too identified a lot with Yae and her body issues.

So even while it seems you liked this more than I did, I still liked it enough that I plan to read the second volume when it comes around.

MELINDA: Count me in for that as well!

Off the Shelf: Chocolat

January 7, 2013 by Melinda Beasi and Michelle Smith 13 Comments

MELINDA: Good morning, Michelle! How are you holding up after your marathon read?

MICHELLE: Fairly well! I’m usually a terribly slow reader, so it’s always nice to marathon manhwa since the big, spacious paneling allows me to go a lot faster!

MELINDA: Girls’ manhwa, especially, is easy on the eyes… and in more ways than one, most of the time!

So, anyone who’s been following My Week in Manga will know that the series Michelle and I have been marathoning this week is Chocolat, a girls’ manhwa series by writer JiSang Shin and artist Geo—the same team who brought us Very! Very! Sweet. This series went abruptly on hiatus after seven volumes—the last of which was published here in 2008—and finally resumed publication in South Korea in the spring of 2011. Its North American publisher, Yen Press, collected the series’ final three volumes into a single omnibus that was released just last month.

Chocolat tells the story of Kum-Ji Hwang, a middle-school student obsessed with a popular idol group known as “DDL,” and particularly its lead singer, Jin. Having discovered DDL too late to get in on its fan club’s initial membership drives, Kum-Ji and her friends are firmly stuck at the very bottom of the fandom hierarchy, with little hope of ever seeing their idols up close, let alone interacting with them in any meaningful way. Frustrated by this cruel reality, Kum-Ji gets in on the ground floor of the fan club for a new idol group, Yo-i. Though she cares nothing at all about Yo-i, Kum-Ji’s status as a club officer grants her special access to entertainment complexes and live events, including those that Yo-i shares with DDL!

When the day finally arrives that Yo-i and DDL are working in the same studio, Kum-Ji struts in proudly to find her way to DDL’s waiting room, and though she finally gets her opportunity to meet Jin, her moment of glory is interrupted by E-Soh, a cute (but spoiled) boy she tussled with on the elevator, who also happens to be the lead singer for Yo-i. Catching on to Kum-Ji’s ruse, E-Soh threatens to blow her cover unless she agrees to be his personal slave.

(click images to enlarge – read left-to-right)

The rest of the plot is totally predictable, right? Kum-Ji will grudgingly consent to E-Soh’s terms, all the while hating him with her whole heart, until hate finally turns into mutual love and they live happily (and entertainingly) ever after. Right?? Thankfully, no.

Though Kum-Ji initially succumbs to E-Soh’s blackmail, she’s not cut out for polite servitude and her rebellious nature pretty much ensures that her cover is doomed from the start. But as it turns out, Kum-Ji’s aunt is a coordinator for Yo-i, which means that Kum-Ji’s proximity to the idol world is not wholly dependent on her fan club status. This is pretty fortunate for Kum-Ji, since her “disrespectful” treatment of E-Soh puts her immediately at odds with the Yo-i fan club president—a dazzling beauty commonly referred to as “Barbie.”

Beyond this, the series becomes pretty complicated to summarize. Though its melodramatic nature gives it a formulaic feel, its romantic entanglements and various character trajectories are actually quite difficult to sum up in any kind of neat way. Predictably, E-Soh falls for Kum-Ji (in typically inexplicable fashion—at least at first), but Kum-Ji’s feelings are much more complicated as she tries to weigh her growing friendship with E-Soh against both her longstanding idol worship of Jin and her unexpected sexual attraction Yo-i’s main rapper, E-Wan. Meanwhile, Barbie’s obsession with E-Wan spurs her to pursue a career as an idol herself so that she can approach him as a colleague instead of a fan, and E-Wan struggles with just figuring out how to coexist with other humans at all. Ultimately, the series becomes a strange mixture of tried-and-true romance formulas and surprisingly insightful musing on the nature of love and corporate-made social hierarchies, which works better than you might think.

MICHELLE: Wow, that summary was incredibly well done!

As I began Chocolat, I had the same expectations. “Okay, this is another series where a childish and uncouth girl encounters a handsome and rich guy and they bicker and bicker until suddenly he loves her, but then she’s never grateful for anything he does until suddenly she matures and they live happily ever after.” And, on some levels, it kind of is that, but there are definitely some twists to the old formula.

I expected that Kum-Ji would mature—for the first four volumes, she’s pretty insufferable—but I wasn’t prepared for just how awesome she would become and how necessary all that earlier squabbling would turn out to be. If you’re introduced to a character who is calm and mature, they could be a bit dull, but knowing her background, when we see her exhibiting those qualities, we’re just struck by how much she’s grown. Also, she is completely reflective on her own past behavior and acknowledges several times how she’s sorry for it and grateful for the many kindnesses she initially rebuffed. By the end of the series, I liked her very much.

I also thought JiSang Shin and Geo did a decent job explaining why these boys would be attracted to her, even though it initially seems so inexplicable. Aside from the fact that their obsessively scandal-phobic production company is keeping them away from girls as much as possible, Kum-Ji is the one girl they meet who is utterly honest and who expects nothing from them. E-Wan later explains that he’s attracted to her because, growing up the son of a mother who never put him first, he can see that she’ll become a terrific mother one day. Strong, loving, and utterly willing to protect her kid with the full extent of her ability. (Well, okay, he doesn’t necessarily say all that, but that’s what he means.) She finally convinces him that real love is possible, and if his change of heart is a little swift and unconvincing initially, by the end I was sold on their relationship.

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MELINDA: I think in general I have a higher tolerance for heroines like Kum-Ji than you do (I tend to find the arrogant male love interest much more insufferable), but in Kum-Ji’s defense, specifically, I feel that she has an especially good excuse for immaturity, since she is actually younger than all of the male idol characters, none of whom are any more mature than she is, when you think about it—quieter, in some cases, but not particularly mature. I am in complete agreement with you, however, on how awesome she becomes, and I need to extend the same praise to E-Soh, whose personal growth is just as dramatic as Kum-Ji’s. It’s not often that I find myself equally admiring both the heroine and the guy she doesn’t end up with by the end of a romance comic.

MICHELLE: Oh, I found the arrogant guys pretty insufferable, too! The tone of the story in early volumes is also more “comedic,” in that there are lots and lots of ugly panels and some truly awful attempts at humor at Wu-Hee’s (the female member of Yo-i) expense. I expect you know what sequence I’m talking about, and I really could have done without that. The whole manhwa could’ve done without that! But, in general, I don’t get along that well with comedies, so that probably contributed significantly to my irritation with earlier volumes. I had faith that the story would eventually shift into something more my speed, though, and it did.

E-Soh is indeed an interesting character. I really liked the bit at the end where he’s realizing that the idol business can’t go on forever and he should think about what else he might want to do with his life. I’m not sure characterization with him was always consistent—at one point he’s playing a sort of Momiji role by helping Kum-Ji and E-Wan get together, but later he’s demanding of his bandmate “What the heck do you see in her?!!”—but his overall story line is a good one.

MELINDA: Yeah, I think there are some confusing moments in E-Soh’s character development, but some of those end up being used to great advantage, too. One of the things I love most about the way Kum-Ji and E-Soh’s relationship is written throughout the series, is that the authors aren’t afraid of letting them be confused or to hurt themselves and each other in the midst of that confusion. Neither of them is portrayed as the villain in the relationship, and the differences between the way Kum-Ji feels about E-Soh versus E-Wan versus Jin are really nuanced and not necessarily cut along the lines drawn by typical romance tropes. Likewise, E-Soh’s feelings about Kum-Ji and E-Wan are changeable and not easily defined. Because of this, Kum-Ji and E-Soh’s relationship is probably my favorite in the series—kind of because they don’t end up together romantically. There’s a scene near the end of the final volume in which Kum-Ji thanks E-Soh for making a clean break with her, and he acknowledges how difficult keeping it clean actually was that really sums up how well the relationship is written and it actually made me kind of teary at the time.

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MICHELLE: I agree completely about the nuanced difference in Kum-Ji’s feelings, and I thought that the manhwa-ga team did a great job clarifying those for the reader at a pace that matched the internal clarification Kum-Ji herself was experiencing. This leads me to note that the portrayal of fandom is also really well done—the dedicated fervor as well as the gradual moving away from that kind of idealized obsession while still looking back on all those times with nostalgic fondness. It’s never portrayed as a waste of time and the feelings experienced by fans are presented as absolutely genuine.

And yet, reality inevitably wins out in the end. There’s a great scene where E-Wan, thinking to do something nice for Kum-Ji, invites her over to Jin’s place, but by then her feelings for E-Wan have developed so much that she only has eyes for him and practically ignores her idol lounging next to her on the couch in his bathrobe.

MELINDA: Yes, I absolutely loved the way the story handles fandom/fans. I think Jung-Yeon (aka “Pretty Boy Jin”) is one of the best examples of this. First, I love the fact that Kum-Ji and her friends continue to think of his online fandom name as his actual name (wow, can I relate to that), and also that he ends up being both a totally real guy with his own life and issues and also a serial fan who is just really good at being a fan. He’s that fan whose homemade gifts and banners outshine everyone else’s, and by the end of the story he’s moved on to another fandom to which he’s just as devoted as he ever was to DDL (I can relate to that, too).

MICHELLE: Because he looks so much like Jin when he’s first introduced, I kept waiting for the big reveal that he was some secret little brother or something, but nope, just a fanboy. At one point, it seemed like his story would come more to the fore, as there was a line about his parents having kicked him out, but then we never hear about it again, so I’m not sure what happened there.

MELINDA: Oh, interesting, I never really expected it to become more prominent—just kind of took it as a character note—but I should mention, too, that I liked his relationship with Kum-Ji and the kind of friend he was to her, even if it was clear that they weren’t exactly on the same page there. I was glad that the authors didn’t feel it necessary to try to neatly fit him into her harem (like making him confess or something), but that there was some ambiguity and unsettled-ness in terms of how each of them viewed the friendship.

MICHELLE: Definitely. If it had been yet another boy expressing his interest in her, it would’ve been overkill.

Speaking of boys who fancy Kum-Ji, we haven’t really talked about E-Wan very much. He starts off very surly and angsty—this, combined with the boy band aspect of the story, reminded me of the lead character in You’re Beautiful to the point that I called him “Murderbot” in my notes a few times—but we eventually learn that he’s had a terrible home life. It seems like he joined Yo-i at least in part to distract himself from his pain, but all the smiling and singing and pretending like nothing’s wrong are really wearing him down.

Burdened by a past full of unsolicited, expectant admirers, he’s pretty nasty to Kum-Ji when she finally confesses her feelings to him, but when she—unlike all the others—actually takes his feelings into account and leaves him alone afterwards, he apologizes and starts becoming nicer in general. I actually found his about-face here a little too sudden—I was so suspicious I wondered whether his illness was terminal or something—but it’s certainly not unwelcome.

Twin Murderbots?

MELINDA: Ha! I’ll admit that “Murderbot” came to my mind a few times as well, though I do kinda love that, unlike Tae-Kyung in You’re Beautiful, E-Wan isn’t the obvious love interest from the start. He sort of sidles in there unexpectedly as Kum-Ji gets to know the group, unlike E-Soh, who is completely transparent and in Kum-Ji’s face (and thus, ours) the whole time.

E-Wan’s transformation felt pretty slow and natural to me, but I wonder if that has something to do with the fact that I was actually re-reading the first seven volumes rather than marathoning the whole series for the first time. Did my later impressions of E-Wan color my reading of him early on? That certainly seems possible.

Though as a reader, I would have been happy to see Kum-Ji end up with either E-Soh or E-wan (as long as she was happy), I admit I loved E-Wan’s final volume persona as the cranky idol who will only behave for magical manager Kum-Ji. I would have been sad had that E-Wan never surfaced. He’s pretty adorable.

MICHELLE: “Sidling” is the perfect way to describe how E-Wan ends up becoming the love interest. I really liked that, too, though because Kum-Ji ends up genuinely becoming such close friends with E-Soh, ending up with him wouldn’t have felt super-predictable either.

And yes, I quite liked the glimpse of the two of them at the end! In their notes, the creators mentioned being dissastified with the conclusion to the series, but I honestly don’t see what’s wrong with it! I was a little worried when Kum-Ji didn’t get angry when E-Wan suggested she forget college and just marry him, but relieved to see that she did indeed go to university and made a name for herself doing something related to him, but by no means dependent upon him.

MELINDA: Speaking of Kum-Ji’s career trajectory, I also am in love with the scene in which she discovers that she’s good at sewing costumes and her aunt says (essentially) something along the lines of, “Well, if you’re just going to go to fancy costume design school and still end up doing this like all the rest of us did, you might as well just skip that enormous time-suck and sign up with us now!” Because even though this isn’t precisely what Kum-Ji ends up doing, it’s still surprisingly practical advice for a romance series to be handing out.

MICHELLE: Yeah, and there’s an arrow pointing to the lady who did go to a prestigious school and the caption “sewing spangles on a shirt.” Hee.

(click image to enlarge)

This does bring up the thoroughly corporate nature of the band. It’s never expressly stated, but I don’t think any of the boys knew each other before being drafted to be in the group together. (E-Soh and Wu-Hee were “discovered” simultaneously.) Due to their closeness, it’s possible E-Wan and Eun-Sung did know each other, but this is never explored. (Eun-Sung in general is never explored, which is kind of a shame.) They live in dormitories furnished by the company and have a rigorous schedule of promoting an album, then having a break while another group rotates into the spotlight, then having a “comeback” when it’s time for their second album. Although we see them rehearsing from time to time, it’s generally just choreography. They’re never seen writing songs or playing instruments, and are really described as rappers in a “dance group” rather than singers in a band. So, really, they don’t seem to be musicians with any particular love of music. They’re just handsome and coordinated guys put together by a company to generate income. It’s all very… sterile.

MELINDA: Yes, definitely. And it’s interesting how the comic addresses it, too, by acknowledging it without judgement. On one hand, there is a character who really does crave more—Jin, who eventually leaves DDL in order to pursue his own songwriting and a career as a real musician—and we also have Barbie, who (rather accidentally) discovers that she’s got real talent as an actress. But E-Wan’s job (and the job of all the other members of Yo-i) really is just to be an idol, completely crafted by corporate entertainment for mass consumption. And this is totally okay, according to Chocolat! I kind of love that. It’s oddly refreshing.

MICHELLE: “Acknowledging it without judgment” nicely sums up the depiction of fandom, too!

So, let’s talk about Barbie for a minute! Originally Yo-i’s fan club president before embarking upon the path to stardom, Barbie is desperately in love with E-Wan. Although she is at times at odds with Kum-Ji—and orders a couple of fangirl attacks upon her—they eventually call a truce. Towards the end of the series, however, when Barbie learns that Kum-Ji lied to her about having feelings for E-Wan and went so far as to confess to him, Barbie declares that she must pay the price for the deception.

I was expecting more bullying to ensue, but instead there’s actually a fairly awesome moment when Barbie intercepts the boys just as they’re about to go back on stage for their comeback and pulls E-Wan into a much-photographed embrace, effectively overshadowing their return (which had been delayed by a terrible car accident) with scandal. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised by this twist, but I was, and quite delighted by its cruel efficiency.

MELINDA: Everyone’s reactions to her villainous move were so, so interesting, too! E-Wan, E-Soh, and Kum-Ji all react in ways so true to their characters, it’s a further delight!

MICHELLE: Is there anyone else we forgot to talk about? Although the supporting cast is pretty vivid, I’m not sure I have too much to say about them, aside from lamenting again that Eun-Sung and, to an even greater extent, Wu-Hee are not given very much to do. I did like the acknowledgment that it was only Wu-Hee’s quirkiness that kept her safe from fangirl vitriol, but she’s pretty much portrayed as a country bumpkin throughout.

MELINDA: I was a bit offended by Wu-Hee’s country bumpkin portrayal in the beginning, though I liked her quite a lot by the end, so I’m thinking the offensiveness must have been toned down at that point. Sadly, I think her role in the series was mainly to provide E-Soh with both a huge burden of guilt (as she’s horribly injured in a work-related car accident not long after he prevents her from quitting the group) and a crippling neurosis (again, related to the accident).

(click image to enlarge)

Eun-Sung, on the other hand, seems to exist to provide a sounding board for E-Wan, though one thing I do like about the way he’s written is that he’s really kind of an ass, which was totally unexpected—at least by me. So often, I expected him to come out and say something warm and helpful only to be confronted by a guy who is perhaps more caught up in the corporate-invented classism of the idol business than anyone. There’s a scene early on where he basically lectures Kum-Ji about not respecting her betters which was so not what I was expecting from the role he seemed to play. It made his close, cuddly relationship with E-Wan even more intriguing. I’m not sure even now that I completely understand how they really got there.

MICHELLE: I also wasn’t expecting Eun-Sung to be such an ass! Early on, I was still making You’re Beautiful parallels and had him pegged for the kindly Shin-Woo type. Sounds like we were in the same boat there.

MELINDA: We certainly were!

I’d also like to take a moment to express my enjoyment of Kum-Ji’s circle of fandom friends, because I was so pleased that the authors decided to check back in with them at the end of the story so that we could see how they all turned out. They managed to capture fandom friendship perfectly as something that really is real, but is also usually destined to fade over time as the friends all move on to other obsessions or regular life pursuits. They portray this without trivializing the group’s fandom experience or the bond formed between them, and it made me feel certain that the writers had been fans on that level themselves at some point in their lives.

MICHELLE: I think there were actually some author features in early volumes (these would be the Ice Kunion editions) that mentioned them being fans of some group, but I can’t remember now what it was. So yes, I’m sure they had intimate knowledge of those kinds of friendships. Heh, now I’m recalling a girl I was “best friends” with in sixth grade based on the fact that we liked the same boy. And when I stopped liking him, our friendship fizzled overnight.

MELINDA: I’ve had both that exact friendship (which can feel—and I think is—very real in the moment) and also the even better kind that ends up transcending fandom and remains even after the shared interest has waned. After all, I met my husband via band fandom! Chocolat‘s nuanced approach leaves room for all of this, and I love it for that. Also, I admit I’m a fan of Pretty Boy’s new look. Heh.

MICHELLE: It certainly is striking!

MELINDA: I suppose it’s obvious by now, but I’d like to wrap up just by saying how happy I am that Yen Press opted to complete this series, even after such a long hiatus. It’s a charming treat, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to see it through to the end … and also for the opportunity to discuss it with you! Thank you, Michelle, for a delightful conversation!

MICHELLE: It was fun!

More full-series discussions with Melinda & Michelle:

Full-series multi-guest roundtables: Hikaru no Go | Banana Fish | Gerard & Jacques | Flower of Life

Off the Shelf: Shorts Weather

December 22, 2012 by Melinda Beasi and Michelle Smith Leave a Comment

MICHELLE: So, I have these two boy kitties who have had a personality/territory conflict for going on two years now. And now, suddenly, they are sleeping peacefully next to each other on an ottoman. I can only conclude that this is a Christmas miracle.

MELINDA: Hallelujah!

MICHELLE: Maybe it’s a body-heat issue, but I would be so happy if they actually became friends.

Anyway, what better way to celebrate surviving the longest night of the year (not to mention the Mayan apocalypse) than devoting our final column of the year to two recently released short-story collections? I’m speaking of The Devil Is So Cute by Takako Shimura (JManga) and Kaoru Mori: Anything and Something (Yen Press). It just seemed natural to me to pair these together, since Shimura and Mori are women artists writing primarily for the seinen demographic.

MELINDA: What better way indeed? Now, I’ll admit that the collection of short manga tends to be one of my least favorite formats (it beats out 4-koma, but only by a hair), so I went into this with a sort of grudging sense of duty, but both collections offered up some interesting insight into their creators, so it was definitely worthwhile.

MICHELLE: Yeah, I don’t have a lot of enthusiasm for the medium itself, but it was at least neat to see how these different artists approached short stories. (With varying results, I suspect, due to the nature of the magazines in which the stories ran.)

Would you care to introduce one of the collections?

MELINDA: Sure! I’ll start with Shimura’s, which, of the two, is the most typical of the format. Pulling from one-shots originally published in magazines like Comic High! and Jump SQ between 2004 and 2009 (along with one extra chapter added specifically for the collection), The Devil Is So Cute covers a range of subjects from the existence of witches to childhood crushes, though when you get right down to it, they’re really all about relationships—particularly those between family members and close friends.

The book’s title story, for instance, about a young boy, Megumu, who meets a woman claiming to be a witch, is really telling the story of the boy’s strained relationship with his very strict father. The witch, Nozomi, who has the ability to be accepted as anyone she wants, in any role she wants—she appears as Megumu’s sister, teacher, pediatrician, you name it—is there to bring them closer together, but she could easily be read as a figment of Megumu’s imagination, as it’s Megumu and his father, ultimately who do all the work. It’s a whimsical story with a serious purpose, which makes it a pretty terrific read.

One theme that comes up more than once in the collection is that of first love—not the sweet, mushy, teen romance kind that tends to be the stuff of shoujo manga, but the unrequited childhood crushes that I think are pretty relatable for most of us—viewed both during and after the fact. “My Summer Vacation,” for instance, tells the story of a young girl whose crush on the man who works at her local public bath leads her to pretend she’s doing a research report on bathing so that she can justify talking to him, over and over. It’s a pretty adorable, light-hearted story, unlike the somewhat darker “Unworthy Son,” which chronicles one young man’s horror as his father remarries to a teacher whom he had crushed on so heavily as a student that she’d inspired him to draw a manga about her.

Some of the stories are more whimsical than others, and some are definitely stronger than others, but there’s a lot of range in this collection, which helps to keep it interesting.

MICHELLE: Y’know, it hadn’t actually occurred to me that Nozomi might be imaginary! That’s an interesting spin on things. But yes, I really appreciated that the story is actually about the father-son relationship—with their inability to communicate depicted with distressing accuracy—instead of witches and magic.

Another theme of the collection, sometimes operating hand-in-hand with “first love,” is that of the struggling manga artist so busy working as an assistant for others that he/she has no time to devote to their own work. But is that truly the case, or are they just using that as an excuse for not pursuing their own dreams? In “One Day,” a would-be mangaka runs into her former crush when she goes out drinking after meeting a deadline. In the past, she had declared her intentions to create manga on a whim, but has failed to find the dedication necessary to make that happen. Similarly on a whim, she confesses her feelings to him in the present and now suddenly wants to resume drawing. In “Unworthy Son,” the protagonist is in a similar situation, never having success with any of the portfolios he submits. He’s on the verge of calling it quits when he too is compelled to carry on by the weight of others’ expectations.

This ties in with yet another theme, which is jealousy of a friend’s talent. This idea is present in “Unworthy Son” but also in “Transformation,” in which a woman dreams that her successful novelist friend has died in an accident and comes out of the experience not exactly transformed, but at least a little more willing to be honest about her feelings, if not completely at peace with them.

MELINDA: Yes, I thought all the stories about mangaka—and particularly about mangaka who weren’t making a living drawing their own stories—were really interesting and insightful. And while I don’t want to presume that Shimura is writing from her own experience (certainly she is a successful mangaka), I think it would be fair to say that she’s writing something she knows, either from observing others, or from her own, hidden insecurities which of course we all have. In any case, it reads as thoughtful and authentic. It’s one of the strengths of the collection.

So, on to Kaoru Mori, then? Would you care to do the introductory honors?

MICHELLE: Sure!

So, as opposed to Shimura, who is writing about things she knows, Kaoru Mori seems to be writing about things she likes (or that her audience likes). And since she is known for liking maids a lot, it’s no surprise that there are a few of them here, though there are also some teens and some alluring older ladies as well.

So, you’ve got your kooky maids/servants—the staff in “Welcome to the Mansion, Master!” wants a new master so they can continue to enjoy the creature comforts of their swanky surroundings while the titular maid in “Miss Claire’s Ordinary Daily Life” is the only one to stand by her witless master, going so far as to beat up a robber whilst clad in her nightgown—as well as your fussily affectionate ones (“Maudlin Baker”). The alluring older ladies are found in a pair of stories—”The Swimsuit Bought Long Ago” and “Burrow Gentlemen’s Club”—that share the same storytelling trick, where the main character replies (in square boxes instead of dialogue bubbles) to a man speaking off-panel. I actually thought “Burrow” was the most intriguing story of the whole collection, but because it’s so short, it’s more of a tease than an actual mystery.

Speaking of teases and alluring ladies, it must be said that while there are maids, ladies in swimsuits, and ladies in Playboy-esque bunny attire in this volume, somehow it doesn’t feel super fanservicey to me. I think it’s because Mori keeps the proportions of these characters (even “Cover Story,” which is essentially the four-page sequence of a girl with a bedonkadonk straddling a tree branch to look at a bird) realistic, so it’s more like a celebration of their overall sexiness than an exaggeration of certain anatomical attributes.

MELINDA: I agree completely! Obviously many of these were drawn as alluring shorts and single-page illustrations for men to enjoy, but her style when she’s drawing women in bunny outfits or swimsuits reminds me of nothing more than old-fashioned bathing beauties from the first half of the 20th century, back when realistic bodies were still considered beautiful. While it’s possible I’d find them scandalous if I lived back in that time, as a woman in 2012, I actually just find it… refreshing.

Anything and Something strikes me as much less a standard collection of shorts than is The Devil Is So Cute, though this isn’t necessarily a good or bad thing. On one hand, it’s a much less polished collection. Not all of the shorts are completed stories—and even a few of those that are feel a little half-baked. “Sumire’s Flowers,” for instance (for which Mori only provided the illustrations), begins as an intriguing look at rival student artists, but then devolves into a weird morality tale about adultery. On the other hand, many of Mori’s little scraps of ideas are more inspired than entire volumes of some long-running manga. “Burrow Gentleman’s Club” is a great example of that. I’d love to read a more complete version of that story, but even the snippet we’re given here is well worth the page space! The book’s overall tone is casual enough to encompass a lot of tiny experiments and bursts of whimsy without the slightest strain, so these bits and pieces fit together nicely.

Is it wrong that my favorite bits in this book are Mori’s little autobiographical strips, afterwards, and thank-yous, tacked on between chapters? Honestly, I’d have picked up the book for those alone.

MICHELLE: Those are lots of fun, and the extensive illustration gallery (with notes) in the back is simply gorgeous. So yes, even if this is less polished (I was baffled by bits of “Sumire’s Flowers,” too) or complete (I want more “Burrow”!) than Shimura’s collection, it’s still definitely worth checking out!

Off the Shelf: Ghosts, Demons, & Darling Kitten Hair

December 16, 2012 by Melinda Beasi and Michelle Smith 4 Comments

MELINDA: Helloooooooooooooo!

MICHELLE: Yo.

MELINDA: It took every bit of willpower I had not to begin with “Ho, ho, ho!” That’s how much I’m looking forward to my upcoming vacation.

MICHELLE: Heh. I’m not taking much of one, but hubby is, which is kind of like a vacation for me!

MELINDA: I hope it gives you a least a bit of a break! I’m counting the days…

So, in all the mess of holiday preparations (or not), have you had a chance to read any manga?

MICHELLE: Not a great deal, actually, but some!

The first item on my agenda this week is the debut of Demon Love Spell, a supernatural shoujo comedy from Mayu Shinjo. I must admit that the setup of this one—an inept shrine maiden with the thoroughly uninspired name of “Miko” tames a sexy demon—did not sound very promising. Coupled with the mess that is Ai Ore!, I definitely had to question why I was putting myself through another Shinjo manga. As it turns out, though, it isn’t bad. It’s not good, nor original, but it isn’t bad!

Miko Tsubaki is descended from a family that has protected a certain shrine for generations. Her father is a renowned exorcist, and though Miko lacks the ability to see ghosts and demons, she still wants to follow in his footsteps. When a classmate suggests her cheating boyfriend is possessed by a demon, Miko takes her seriously and attempts to bind the guy. To her utter astonishment, she succeeds. Kagura, a formerly studly incubus, who survives by feeding off women’s passionate feelings, has been reduced to a tiny state. This ignominious downfall prompts other demons to show up and mock him. However, whenever Kagura’s in physical contact with Miko, she’s able to see and fight them off.

Thus begins a partnership, with Miko lending him energy and him lending her his powers until she’s able to remember the spell to change him back. Of course, there’s a lot of innuendo here, as Kagura is typically tucked into her cleavage for these scenes, and he also has been visiting her sexually in her dreams. I did kind of worry this would be something like Black Bird, but it really isn’t. Kagura is pretty sexually voracious, true, but he doesn’t seem to be doing anything Miko doesn’t want—her dream self states quite plainly that she’s been enjoying what’s going on—and occasionally seems rather sad that she’s unable to remember their closeness during their waking hours. Theirs isn’t a deep love and unfolds far too quickly to be convincing, but at least it’s not icky.

Ultimately, Demon Love Spell is kind of generic, but it’s the kind of fluff one can enjoy without feeling bad about it.

MELINDA: I reviewed this book for my very first episode of My Week in Manga, and surprisingly, I think I enjoyed it more than you did—or at least felt more enthusiastic about enjoying it—though this could possibly be due to my extremely low expectations. (I never made it past volume two of Ai Ore!) I think I really appreciate its ability to provide some genuine sexiness without all the gross misogyny of Ai Ore! or Black Bird. I don’t know why these things always seem to go hand-in-hand in trashy shoujo manga, but they really do. I’m grateful for a break from it.

MICHELLE: Yes, “sexy without being gross” is a good way to describe it. I like it enough so far to read more, but it’s not the kind of thing I see myself wanting to reread multiple times in the future.

Anyways, what have you been reading this week?

MELINDA: I pondered heavily over what to choose for my solo read this week—even going so far as to solicit suggestions on YouTube—but in the end, I snatched up the opportunity to talk about volume two of Haruko Kumota’s My Darling Kitten Hair, out this week from JManga. Normally, I’d save a title like this for our BL Bookrack column, but this series is so charming, I just couldn’t wait that long!

A quick recap of the premise for those who missed my short review of the first volume: Young salaryman Kei-chan has left his Hokkaido hometown in order to join his high school boyfriend, Mii-kun (a slovenly writer who makes his living penning erotica), at his grandmother’s boarding house in Tokyo. Though the two have been a couple for a long time, the bohemian atmosphere of the boarding house is a far cry from their closeted world back home, which turns out to be a real adjustment for both of them.

This is absolutely a slice-of-life series, much heavier on characterization than it is on plot, but its series of snapshots into the young men’s lives illustrates beautifully the unquestionable weirdness of becoming a real, independent adult, especially when you’re trying to do it alongside someone from your childhood. Volume one focused heavily on Kei-chan’s introduction to Mii-kun’s queer circle of friends and the shifting of their relationship from chaste country sweethearts (and later, long-distance lovers) into that of sexually active adults. Volume two continues with more of both, which in less skilled hands might simply become repetitive. Fortunately Kumota is the kind of writer who understands how to move her characters forward without having to rely on dramatic plot points to do so. Her deceptively light story develops slowly and naturally, full of warmth and charm in every moment.

It’s so rare to read a BL series (or any relationship-driven story) that is about staying in love rather than falling in love, and there’s a reason for that. It’s hard! As difficult as it can be to write authentic, well-developed romance, much like actual romance, it’s even harder to keep that fire burning after the initial rush of first love. Thankfully, My Darling Kitten Hair stands as a lovely example of how to do exactly that. And it’s a real pleasure to read.

MICHELLE: That sounds really wonderful. Almost like a worthy successor to Future Lovers, if I may make so bold a claim having not read any of the title in question! Is the story still ongoing after the second volume?

MELINDA: The internet tells me that it is, indeed, ongoing, which fills me with great joy! You particularly, Michelle, will enjoy the two bonus chapters at the end of volume two, depicting Kei-chan and Mii-kun’s relationship from the contrasting POVs of the boarding house’s two cats.

So as usual, we have a mutual read on deck. Would you like to introduce it this week?

MICHELLE: !! Okay, that settles it. I am going to do a brief of this in next week’s Bookshelf Briefs, I do declare!

Our mutual read this week is the re-debut of 07-Ghost, which was originally launched by Go!Comi a few years ago and is now back in print thanks to VIZ Media. This political/military/religious fantasy is the story of Teito Klein, a shrimpy (there needs to be some kind of master list of short male manga protagonists!) but talented student at the Barsburg Empire military academy. He’s a member of the special class, whose students use a power called zaiphon “to shape the divine energy of life.”

Their graduation ceremony includes banding together to defeat a hulking prisoner, and soon after Teito and his best friend Mikage manage to pass the test, Teito overhears some school officials talking about how he’s the best candidate for something called the Eye of Mikael, which was a stone that protected the rival Raggs Kingdom. This sets off a flurry of disjointed memories, and very quickly thereafter Teito has escaped and found himself seeking sanctuary in a church ruled by three rather eccentric bishops. The school/military hasn’t given up on finding him, however, and they’ve got no qualms about using Mikage to do it.

MELINDA: Well done, Michelle! What readers also should know is that this series runs in Ichijinsha’s Comic Zero Sum which, if you’re a fan of other Zero Sum fantasy series from authors like Yun Kouga (Loveless) and Kazuya Minekura ( Saiyuki Reload), gives you a pretty good idea of what to expect. I went into 07-Ghost expecting three things: pretty male characters, sprawling fight scenes, and homoerotic subtext, and it delivered on all three.

MICHELLE: It definitely reminds me of those series, especially visually. Somehow the art style strikes me as “old-fashioned,” but I can’t really explain why. It’s not as light and simple as some things I’ve been reading recently, which helps create the fantasy feeling, methinks. There were times when I was confused by what I was looking at—what is that flying thing? what’s going on in this fight scene?—but these questions were all quickly answered by the story, so it wasn’t really an issue.

One thing I had some issues with is the pacing. Teito’s escape from the military academy after that overheard conversation is a veritable whirlwind, and he deduces very quickly that he’s a member of Raggs royalty. Perhaps I’m simply used to other manga, where we actually see the moment when a truth is realized, and there is much emphasis on the point to make sure the reader gets it, but with 07-Ghost it felt a little rushed to me. His memories, visions, and temptations to sell his soul in order to learn about his past can also be a little confusing. But that said, I think some of the other plot elements are paced nicely, like the continued allusions to the seven ghosts who I can only assume are eventually going to awaken and do something badass.

MELINDA: I agree, there were some whirlwind sections that left me feeling a bit frazzled and confused (though the story always caught me back up), and I think the fight scenes in particular could use more definition. But overall, I really enjoyed the chance to sink into some female-aimed action/fantasy, which I’ll admit is a pet genre of mine. I feel like the rushed introduction to Teito’s past was supposed to sweep us along so that we’d experience the same shock as Teito does, but it doesn’t linger quite long enough on that moment of realization which robs it of some impact (and a bit of credibility). But in the context of the whole volume, I can accept this as a minor stumble. And I’m anxious to find out more about the seven ghosts!

MICHELLE: Me, too! I wasn’t aware prior to reading this that I actually wanted 07-Ghost to be license-rescued, but now that it has been, I see that it was a pretty worthy contender. Thanks, VIZ!

Off the Shelf: Sweet Blue Flowers, Bunny Drop, Thermae Romae

December 9, 2012 by Melinda Beasi and Michelle Smith 4 Comments

MICHELLE: Hey, Melinda! What game would you play with a wombat?

MELINDA: Well, wow, I don’t know! What game would you play with a wombat?

MICHELLE: Wom!

MELINDA: Heh. Okay, it actually took a moment for me to get that. I must need more coffee!

MICHELLE: Maybe so! While you’re getting caffeinated, wanna tell us about some manga you read this week?

MELINDA: Sure! Those who took in my new video feature this week, My Week in Manga, may be anticipating this as my first topic for today—I’m talking about Sweet Blue Flowers (Aoi Hana) by Takako Shimura. The first volume is now available at JManga, and I could not be more thrilled. I’ve been waiting to read this series for a long time, and I’m so happy that it’s finally available in English.

Sweet Blue Flowers has two protagonists—Akira Okudaira, a young woman just beginning her first year at an elite all-girls high school, and Fumi Manjoume, Akira’s childhood friend who has just moved back into the area after ten years (though she’s attending a different all-girls school). Fumi is a lesbian, and shortly after we meet her, she discovers that her older cousin, Chizu, with whom she’s been having a sexual relationship for some time, has become engaged to be married. Heartbroken, Fumi turns to Akira for comfort, cementing their renewed friendship. Akira is relatively innocent about matters of the heart, but when Fumi begins dating an upperclassman, Yasuko, she finds Akira to be a supportive confidante—the first she’s ever really had. Meanwhile, Akira’s classmate, Kyouko, who has a long-time crush on Yasuko, tries to pawn off her arranged fiance on Akira.

Like Shimura’s earlier series, Wandering Son, Sweet Blue Flowers is a quiet, emotionally complex story that addresses its characters’ sexuality, burgeoning sense of self, and considerable teen angst with thoughtfulness and real gravity, while also carefully providing them with a support system that keeps their sense of fear and isolation from overtaking the narrative. Manga fans who long for teen-oriented series’ depicting fantastic female friendships will find everything they’re looking for in this series, along with so much more.

Though the initial onslaught of new characters inhabiting two different girls’ schools can be a bit overwhelming, the story soon settles in on its primary relationships and how these schools’ social circles intertwine. This aspect of the story mainly revolves around Yasuko, who transferred from Akira’s school to Fumi’s, and whose romantic history looks to be far more complicated than she lets on. The series’ exploration of these girls’ romantic fantasies and inner lives should ring true to any adult woman still in touch with her teenaged self, and this is really its greatest strength. Sweet Blue Flowers doesn’t romanticize first love, but it does let us in to its characters‘ romantic hearts, with a level of authenticity that’s less common than one might expect, especially in stories about young girls.

I admit, I’d love to see a high-end print version of this series similar to Wandering Son‘s, especially as the visual quality of JManga’s edition makes text sometimes difficult to read, but overall I’m just grateful to be able to read it at all. This is really a treasure.

MICHELLE: I’ve really wanted to read this series for a long time, so I too am really grateful that it’s available in English at last! JManga has released a fair amount of yuri in the past year, but this does seem to be the most “emotionally complex” one yet. And probably utterly devoid of fanservice.

MELINDA: Yes, it’s completely fanservice-free, which is a bigger relief than I even expected it to be. I’m so accustomed to just wading through fanservice, I sometimes forget how relaxing it is to read without it.

So what have you been reading this week?

MICHELLE: I’ve spent the interval since our last column getting caught up on Yumi Unita’s josei series Bunny Drop.

Let me state right up front that I was spoiled on the ending of this series before I even began reading it, and have found that this advanced knowledge has colored my reading to the extent that I really can’t avoid talking about it. So, if you don’t want to be spoiled on the ending of Bunny Drop, you should probably skip down to where we start talking about Thermae Romae.

After four volumes depicting single guy Daikichi Kawachi’s experience raising his six-year-old aunt, Rin, Bunny Drop skipped ahead ten years for its fifth volume. Since then, it’s focused more on Rin as a teenager, her disappointment with childhood friend/love interest Kouki, and her uncertainty over her future. Before I get into my complaints, I want to note that Rin’s truly an interesting character. Serious, studious, responsible, domestic, and reserved, it’s refreshing to read about someone who’s simultaneously classy and occasionally prickly. In this volume, her observations of the bonds shared by friends and their mothers causes her to contemplate the nature of motherhood and to ultimately seek out her own. She does eventually meet Masako—another unique character who’s prickly, defensive, and yet somehow sympathetic—but the volume ends with her concluding that living with Daikichi is best.

All of this sounds perfectly innocent without the foreknowledge that Rin and Daikichi are going to end up as a couple. But because I know that, I have seen Unita urging the story in that direction ever since the fifth volume. I might’ve found Rin’s reaction to Kouki’s astoundingly poor decision-making more poignant, had I not been cynically observing, “Had to cross him off the list.” I had the same reaction when Daikichi and Kouki’s mother eventually decide not to get together. Because this seventh volume is mostly concerned with Rin and Masako meeting, there’s less of that, but it’s still present in the form of an awkward sniff-test that I guess is supposed to confirm that Daikichi is not too close a relation to be genetically viable and Rin’s realization that she doesn’t want anyone else to take care of Daikichi in his old age. This, coupled with scenes in which Daikichi confirms that she’ll always be his kid, just makes everything kind of… confusing and icky.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Bunny Drop is still a good read, and I am trying to keep an open mind that Unita will somehow manage to bring these two together romantically in a way that won’t make my skin crawl. (I pray that we get another ten-year time jump first!) But I can’t deny that I wish it had remained in its quasi-Yotsuba?! state indefinitely.

MELINDA: I admit I’m not feeling the “icky” as much as you are, and perhaps that’s because I was spoiled much later, after I already had the chance to fall in love with the characters and the story in general. Also, I just may not be as squicked by the concept in general. But I agree that the story has been nudging Rin in this direction since the time-jump, and knowing the ending in advance has certainly affected the way I view both Rin and Daikichi’s romantic lives. More and more, though, I’m feeling confident that Unita will be able to pull this off in a way that’s moving and sweet instead of gross. I hope I’m right?

MICHELLE: I really hope so, too.

Anyway, you want to do the honors and introduce Thermae Romae?

MELINDA: Sure! So, as we’ve mentioned, our mutual read this week is the first volume of Mari Yamazaki’s Thermae Romae, published in true hardcover glory by Yen Press. It’s an award-winning manga in Japan that’s spawned both an anime series and a popular live-action film, and it’s been ongoing in Enterbrain’s seinen magazine Comic Beam since 2008.

Lucius Modestus is an architect in ancient Rome, whose old-style bathhouse designs are falling out of favor. A true devotee of the public bath, Lucius goes for a soak to clear his thoughts after losing an important contract. As he sinks deeper into the bath, he is suddenly sucked into a drainage pipe, only to find himself finally emerging in modern-day Japan! Thrilled by the “flat-faces”‘ (as he calls them) advances in public bathing, he returns to his own time full of new ideas, which become all the rage in Rome, establishing him as an architectural genius.

Each new chapter roughly repeats this formula (Lucius hits a snag in his own design, time-travels to Japan, and returns with the plan for Rome’s next great bath), which I admit I found a bit wearying over time, though I certainly learned a lot about baths!

MICHELLE: More than anything, Thermae Romae actually reminds me of Ekiben Hitoritabi (available from JManga), which is the likewise repetitious story of a train/bento enthusiast who travels around Japan, marveling at both trains and bento and finding nothing in his travels to dislike. Similarly, each time Lucius comes to Japan he finds it wondrous and deserving of enthusiastic mental praise. At one point, during the chapter in which he discovers onsen, the hard-boiled eggs cooked in the hot water, and the sake served along with them, he utters a line of dialogue that could’ve been completely lifted from Ekiben: “Fantastic! It goes perfectly with the egg!”

So, basically, Thermae Romae is to baths what Ekiben Hitoritabi is to trains and bento lunches. It’s a celebration of a unique aspect of Japanese culture that is a little bemusing perhaps for Westerners to read, but still entertaining.

This makes me wonder… why did Thermae Romae get a deluxe hardcover release while Ekiben is only available digitally? Certainly the time-travel aspect offers a modicum of intrigue, but I think the main difference might rest in Yamazaki’s art style. The volume’s large size and glossy pages, coupled with Yamazaki’s realistic renderings (of Lucius in particular), contribute to the impression that this is actually a Western graphic novel of distinguished literary merit! Yen must be hoping to attract a wider audience with this release than simply manga fans.

MELINDA: I think you may have a very good point. For what’s essentially an episodic gag manga, the artwork is really quite gorgeous, particularly in its depictions of ancient Rome. It’s a strange and awesome combination, really, when you consider that there’s an entire section regarding toilets (down to the details of Roman wiping), depicted with this really lovely, rather sensitive artwork instead of crude, gross-out drawings or clinical, non-fiction diagrams—either of which would be more likely to accompany the subject matter. Yen’s high-end treatment emphasizes the erudite nature of the series, which isn’t at all inappropriate, but I’ll be interested to see who its audience really is.

MICHELLE: Speaking of the gag aspect… until I got to the part about the toilets, I was feeling kind of dubious about the front flap’s claim that Thermae Romae is a “historical comedy.” However, Lucius accusing the bidet of being an “insolent knave!!” changed my mind.

MELINDA: Heh, yes, the toilet section did provide some of the best humor, I have to admit!

Off the Shelf: Strobe Edge, Umineko, Apple Blossoms

November 24, 2012 by Melinda Beasi and Michelle Smith 7 Comments

MELINDA: Well, hello, Michelle! Happy Thanksgiving! And other expressions of holiday cheer!

MICHELLE: And the same to you! At this present moment, I am looking forward to a turkey sandwich in my future!

MELINDA: That sounds delicious! Have any manga to talk about while you munch away?

MICHELLE: Mochiron desu! I’ll start with the debut of Umineko: When They Cry, the latest license from Ryukishi07, who also created Higurashi: When They Cry.

Although I have read a couple of Higurashi side arcs, I still have yet to read the main series. When initial reviews for the first volume were positive, I actually checked it out in the store, but was turned off by the “byoing” sound effects accompanying a female character’s bosoms and returned the book to the shelf. After enjoying the side arcs, I did go back and collect a few volumes but I missed my chance to follow it from the beginning, which was why I wanted to give Umineko a chance. I almost didn’t make it, because the title is front-loaded with even more boob-centric shenanigans.

The story begins in October 1986. Members of the Ushiromiya family are gathering at Rokkenjima island for their annual reunion. Our protagonist is 18-year-old Battler, who has been estranged from the family for six years, so he’s seeing some of his cousins for the first time in while. In short order, he proposes performing an exam on a cousin his own age to see how much she’s grown, coerces a nine-year-old cousin to promise that she’ll grow up to “be a graceful lady and let me touch your boobs whenever I want,” and very nearly goes through with groping a ridiculously well-endowed servant who’s in no position to fend him off. He claims that he is joking around and just trying to provoke a reaction, but not surprisingly, none of the girls is amused.

Though Battler’s boob fixation pops up a few more times, the story thankfully begins to focus on the weird behavior of the family patriarch and the legend of a witch who is reportedly the source of the family fortune. While Battler’s parents squabble over their inheritance, his grandfather concludes his contract with the witch, freeing her to select members of the family as sacrifices, which she does in grisly fashion. Meanwhile, an epitaph accompanying a portrait of the witch provides instructions by which the deaths may be reserved. By the end of the volume, a nicely creepy atmosphere has been achieved.

All in all, though, the mystery is just intriguing enough to bring me back a second time. I don’t like the art. I don’t like Battler. I don’t like the nine-year-old cousin, Maria, who has a verbal tic that causes her to say “uuu” all the time. (Seriously, there’s one panel where her dialogue reads, “Uuu, uuu, uuu!! Uuu, uuu!! Uuu, uuu!! Uuu, uuu, uuu!!”) I don’t mean to insult readers who enjoy moe and fanservice, but it’s personally really difficult for me to endure them.

MELINDA: Wow… you know, I just don’t know if I have it in me to put up with the fanservice and the moe “uuu”-ing, even for a good mystery. Have I just become old and jaded?

MICHELLE: I don’t think so. It’s probably more a matter of “Life’s too short to read things I don’t like!” And honestly, I’m not sure this is even going to be a good mystery. I just kind of want to see what happens next. It’s entirely possible I’ll give up on it before the end.

Anyway, what have you been reading this week?

MELINDA: Well, after all the fantastic comments and feedback we received on last week’s BL Bookrack: Best of 2012, I found myself with a growing list of titles I felt I should try—particularly from SuBLime, which has been a tough imprint for me so far in terms of finding books I like. I decided to check out the first of these, Toko Kawai’s The Scent of Apple Blossoms, and this turned out to be a very good choice for me. As soon as I finished the first volume, I purchased the other two and gobbled them up whole.

You covered the series’ premise nicely in your review earlier this year, so I won’t go over it too thoroughly here. In short, Japanese-American Haruna works for a liquor seller in Japan. Part of his job includes trying to persuade local brewers to sell their products to his company to be sold in their shops and restaurants. While visiting an especially cranky brewer, he falls in love at first site with the master brewer’s grandson, Nakagawa. The first volume mainly consists of Haruna trying to wear down the master brewer while also pursuing his seemingly unrequited feelings for Nakagawa, but this is BL, so you know he’s going to succeed in his romantic adventures by the end.

The plot here is hardly the point, however. This story is incredibly, incredibly sweet, yet somehow never fluffy, and the relationships—even the protagonist’s generally unbelievable seduction of a straight man—feel natural and never rushed. Haruna’s American forthrightness is genuinely charming, and it’s easy to see why reserved Nakagawa would be both confounded and fascinated by it. Situations that might normally read as relentless non-con are magically saved by a combination of Nakagawa’s badass demeanor and Haruna’s straightforwardness and unwillingness to make a move without permission. And even the loathed (by me anyway) seme/uke thing is written in a way that feels weirdly natural.

The first volume brings the couple together just as expected, and at this point many writers would have to fabricate unbelievable conflicts just to keep the story going. But Haruna and Nakagawa’s vastly different personalities lend themselves to frequent bumps in the road that actually read as genuine. A favorite section of mine involves an ex-boyfriend of Haruna’s coming to town. This causes some of the conflict you might imagine—serious Nakagawa isn’t happy about the way easygoing Haruna keeps in touch with his exes, which leaves Haruna to figure out how to handle it all without lying to anyone—but Kawai refuses to make these characters into rigid stereotypes, so everything plays out with the kind of real emotional give-and-take you would expect to see in actual life. As a result, what could easily have read as pure melodrama is instead a thoughtful take on the nuances of friendships and romantic relationships, and learning to communicate honestly with one’s partner—only a lot more charming and fun than that sounds!

As a bonus, I also learned a lot about sake, and it really made me want to buy some. Is that a good thing? I’m going to decide that it is.

MICHELLE: I’m so glad that you liked this! I actually haven’t read the other two volumes yet, so you’ve inspired me to check them out.

If you’re interested in more Toko Kawai, I really liked CUT, Café Latte Rhapsody, and In the Walnut. I’m also really intrigued by Just Around the Corner, but I haven’t managed to read it yet.

I guess this amount of gushing means I’m a Toko Kawai fangirl!

MELINDA: I suspect I will be soon as well!

So, our mutual read comes from VIZ this week. Want to do the introductory honors?

MICHELLE: Sure!

Strobe Edge is a shoujo series from Shueisha—ten volumes total, originally serialized in Betsuma—that covers the well-trod terrain of a high school girl experiencing first love. Ninako Kinoshita is earnest and innocent, and though she joins her friends in admiring school heartthrob Ren Ichinose, she mostly thinks of it as a way to pass the time. When she actually has a chance to talk to Ren, however, and realizes how sweet and awkward he is in his effort to replace a cell phone charm he accidentally stepped on, she begins to feel closer to him. Up to this point, Ninako’s been content to accept the opinions of others as true—a shopkeeper says an apple is delicious, so it must be; my friends tell me what I feel for my friend Daiki is love, so it must be—but now she’s beginning to think for herself. What is it that she’s feeling for Ren?

It would be easy to label this as generic shoujo, and I really can’t claim that it’s forging new territory, but I found the characters to be likable and sympathetic. It’s total comfort-read material, more in the vein of a Kimi ni Todoke than a Black Bird (for which I am profoundly grateful!).

MELINDA: My experience with this book was fairly mixed, I’ll admit. About twenty pages in or so, I remember thinking (and actually saying out loud to the others in the room), “I’m so bored.” That was my initial reaction to Strobe Edge. “I’m so bored.” Yet, weirdly, even though that impression did not honestly change much over the course of the volume, by the time I reached its romantic cliffhanger ending, I felt extremely anxious to know what happens next.

And I think this may all come down to the likeableness of the story’s characters, as you mention. Despite the fact that I had difficulty getting invested in yet another high school crush, there were some characters I really felt for, and eventually this even included the story’s heroine, Ninako, though I’d had trouble connecting with her in the beginning. In particular, though, I felt immense sympathy for Daiki, who doesn’t have any confusion over what he feels for Ninako, yet is the one most being left out in the cold. And while I generally found Ninako’s endless waffling and naiveté over what “love” is—not that this isn’t a question all humans wrestle with, but man, how does a girl get to be in high school without having been saturated in the concept through books, TV, even advertisements, for heaven’s sake—she at least knows enough to stop stringing Daiki along after figuring it out.

MICHELLE: Yes, I really liked that about her, too. I guess it’s more of the “making up her own mind” progress, wherein she just instinctively knows that going out with Daiki while continuing to like Ren would be completely unfair. Speaking of unfair, I think Ren’s somewhat in the wrong for showing excessive kindness to Ninako while he already had a girlfriend, but he probably liked having the chance to connect with someone instead of remaining merely an object of distant adoration, so it’s hard to fault him, either.

Suffice it to say, I join you in your anxiety to know what happens next. There are a few wrinkles by the end that at least suggest the series will not tread the predictable path, but even if it does do that, I’d probably still enjoy it.

MELINDA: I suppose I probably will, too! Despite my early ambivalence, I clearly care at this point. Such is the nature of shoujo addiction.

Off the Shelf: Armada, Roses, Crazy for You

November 10, 2012 by Melinda Beasi and Michelle Smith 4 Comments

MICHELLE: Hey, Melinda! What did Geronimo say when he jumped out of an airplane?

MELINDA: Hm, I don’t know, what did he say?

MICHELLE: “Me!!!!”

MELINDA: I guess I should have seen that coming.

MICHELLE: Yeah, probably. So! What’ve you been reading this week?

MELINDA: My solo read this week was the debut volume of MiSun Kim’s Aron’s Absurd Armada, a Korean webtoon published in English by Yen Press. This series has been running since August of 2010 in the online incarnation of Yen Plus, and I checked out the first chapter for this column back when it debuted. Since it’s been quite a while, I’ll take a moment to refresh the premise.

Aron is a young nobleman and heir to a prominent dukedom with dreams of becoming a pirate. Thanks in part to his mother’s delusions regarding his intelligence and cunning (she believes he aspires to piracy in order to keep a rival family’s military influence in check), he is allowed to do so, accompanied by his pretty-boy bodyguard, Robin, whose reluctant participation hinges entirely upon his unapologetic greed. Though Aron is a fairly ridiculous pirate, random luck and Robin’s skills as a swordsman actually manage to win them a small crew, and the two embark on their journey to conquer the seven seas. Members of Aron’s ragtag crew include Ronnie, a young woman rescued from a shipwreck who is consistently mistaken for a man; Mercedes, a swanky transvestite who claims to be a hairdresser but is actually a deadly assassin; hulky Vincent, the world’s worst chef; and underlings Anton and Gilbert, whose primary function seems to be complaining and making jokes about other people’s sexuality.

True to its name, Aron’s Absurd Armada is devoted to humor rather than plot, and in this it largely succeeds. Though translating foreign comedy tends to err on the “miss” side of “hit-or-miss,” Kim’s sense of humor easily bridges cultural barriers—most of the time, at least. Only two or three jokes rely too heavily on Korean pop culture references to translate effectively in this first volume, which is a fairly good track record when compared to much of the Japanese 4-koma that’s been licensed for English-language release. In fact, the biggest cultural disconnect is the unfortunate volume of gay jokes that crop up, a large number of which originate in the series’ deliberate BL overtones. As a general rule, however, the series is genuinely funny, light, and satisfyingly whimsical.

Having originated as a webcomic, Absurd Armada is in full color, and Yen has thankfully preserved this in its print volumes as well. While, as a manga fan, I often find that full color comics result in sensory overload, in this case, color pages just enhance the series’ cartoonish feel, which is really quite effective. On top of that, both Kim’s comedic sense and her clear, expressive art style remind me of nothing more than Hiromu Arakawa’s omake strips for Fullmetal Alchemist, which, coming from me, is definitely a compliment.

MICHELLE: Since I generally don’t like consuming stories on a chapter-by-chapter basis, I’ve been waiting to read any of Aron’s Absurd Armada until it was finally collected, so I was very excited to see that a tangible copy is finally available. I’m kind of dubious about comedies a lot of the time, but this one sounds like it could be right up my alley.

MELINDA: I think it could be! Actually, I’d theorize that the best way to consume this series would be as a daily webcomic, one strip at a time, but it’s enjoyable in collected form as well.

So, what have you been reading this week?

MICHELLE: I’ve spent the last week catching up on Rinko Ueda’s Stepping on Roses in order to talk about its eighth volume, which came out early last month.

I knew going in that Stepping on Roses wasn’t going to be a masterpiece, but ye gods, is it ever dumb! The basic premise is that pauper Sumi Kitamura agrees to marry rich Soichiro Ashida in order to provide for the orphans her ne’er-do-well brother, Eisuke, keeps bringing home. Soichiro needs to be married in order to inherit his grandfather’s fortune, but schemes to have his friend Nozomu fall in love with Sumi with hopes of causing a scandal that’ll allow Soichiro to triumph in business somehow. He succeeds wildly, causing Nozomu to essentially go insane with his love for Sumi and become the series’ main antagonist. Meanwhile, Soichiro and Sumi fall in love for real. In volume eight, they’re living together in the slums until Soichiro gets ill and Sumi decides to yield to Nozomu’s aggressive courtship as a means to provide for her husband’s treatment. Misunderstandings, manual labor, and jumping from cliffs ensue. (Really.)

Being dumb doesn’t preclude Stepping on Roses from occasionally being entertaining. In particular, I’m fond of Soichiro’s manservant, Komai, and the best moment in the series so far is the super-short flashback side story in which he introduces his young charge to commoner cuisine in the form of riceballs. The series is also an extremely fast and easy read, with large, uncluttered panels and uncomplicated dialogue. Unfortunately, “uncomplicated” is pretty much the theme of the day. Despite the dramatic goings-on, the story lacks oomph and I find it hard to care about the characters. Sumi is mostly a passive heroine, and whenever she musters some gumption to do something about her plight, it’s usually something dangerous that requires one of the men in her life to rescue her. Soichiro is the classic misunderstood rich boy who’s never known love, and all of the villains are so obvious that they might as well be twirling mustaches. Speaking of obvious, the plot twist that will presumably be unveiled in the ninth and final volume was telegraphed so strongly in volume seven that it’s now just a matter of waiting for the pieces to fall into place.

That said, I undoubtedly will read the last volume to see how it all wraps up.

MELINDA: You are a lot more patient with this series than I have been. I gave up on it many volumes ago, for most of the reasons you mention here. Somehow it managed to eclipse my tolerance for brainless shoujo. I hadn’t realized that was possible, really, until Stepping on Roses. Though I have enjoyed Sean’s repeated wish that it would turn into a shogi manga. Sumi’s unexpected skill at shogi is pretty much all the series has going for it, in my view. Heh.

MICHELLE: I would much prefer it as a shogi manga!

Anyways, I think it’s your turn this time to introduce our tandem read!

MELINDA: Indeed it is! Our mutual read this week was the first two volumes of Crazy for You, a recent addition to the JManga catalogue from Karuho Shiina, best known in North America as the creator of Kimi ni Todoke.

Okay. So, Sachi is a shoujo everygirl—physically and intellectually unremarkable—whose best friend, Akemi, sets her up on a group date with a bunch of her boyfriend’s classmates. Though the boyfriend, Yuuhei, has been charged by Akemi with not letting any questionable guys latch on to inexperienced Sachi, he somehow lets known womanizer Yuki chat her up for the entire evening. Sachi predictably falls for Yuki and, despite Akemi’s alarmed disapproval, continues to pursue him even though she knows that most of what he says are lies. Thanks to Sachi’s sweet, guileless nature, she actually manages to befriend Yuki for real (to the dismay of both Akemi and Yuki’s more straightforward friend, Akahoshi), but their friendship’s unbalanced nature only spells doom for Sachi’s romantic heart. Just when Sachi begins to believe that her feelings might be returned, it becomes clear that Yuki harbors feelings for Akemi (and vice-versa), shattering relationships on all sides.

Though the typical love-triangle (or double-triangle?) setup and Sachi’s downright eagerness to be jerked around by Yuki becomes quickly wearying in the series’ early chapters, Shiina’s talent for exploring teen emotion eventually shines through. Early on, I’ll admit that my assessment of the series was pretty much, “not as good as We Were There,” to which it bears a number of similarities in terms of romantic setup, but Shiina adds some appealing touches later on.

First, I’m quite taken with the friendship between Sachi and Akemi, which (for once) is portrayed as being at least as important as their romantic aspirations—something Shiina perfected later in Kimi ni Todoke. Also, while Akahoshi could easily be set up as the ill-fated, stalwart “nice guy,” there’s actually quite a bit of doubt about just how “nice” he actually is, which makes his attachment to Sachi more interesting than tragic. Emotional complication is the real key to good romance, and there’s just enough here to make Crazy for You an engaging read.

MICHELLE: Nicely put! I was thinking that this really is the opposite of Stepping on Roses in terms of complicated versus uncomplicated!

Although I’m usually the first one to get riled up at female leads who don’t assert themselves, somehow I felt fairly tolerant of Sachi’s eagerness. Not the way she agrees to be duped, but how, even after Yuki and Akemi’s illicit smoochies shatter the group of friends, she still considers meeting Yuki—and experiencing a whole new world of love and heartbreak—the luckiest thing that’s happened to her. It’s almost as if she appears weak, but is actually strong, determined not to deny the love she feels, no matter what else is happening with other people. She’s glad that detached Yuki is able to feel love after all, and simply being capable of such an emotion herself is sustaining. If that makes sense.

And man, yes, the similarities with We Were There are pretty striking. Not so much the plot, but Yuki and Yano are so much alike they’re practically interchangeable. And the discoveries our heroine makes about their romantic pasts are rather similar, as well. I wonder if that’s part of why VIZ hasn’t licensed it.

MELINDA: Oh, you may have a point! One thing I’m glad of is that at least Akahoshi is not as straightforwardly awesome as Takeuchi, which I’m hoping means that I won’t have to be heartbroken over his inevitable rejection by Sachi. Heh.

MICHELLE: Yeah, he’s a really interesting character! Just another example of Shiina’s flair for developing her supporting characters in unexpected ways. Who could tell from the first couple of chapters that he would wind up being so important to the story? It’s hard to tell whether he genuinely wants Sachi to “save” him in a way, bestow upon him the faith she had for Yuki, or if this is another deliberate attempt to seduce a girl on his part. Is she a challenge? Does he genuinely like her?

MELINDA: In any case, I’m dying to find out! Which I guess means that I’m hooked.

MICHELLE: Me, too! Thanks again, JManga (and Shueisha)! I seriously was not getting far with my German editions and Google Translate! I hope we get more volumes of this (and Pride) in the near future.