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One Piece, Vols. 1-3

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One Piece, Vols. 1-3
By Eiichiro Oda
Published by Viz Media
Rated T (Teen)

Monkey D. Luffy wants to be the king of the pirates, but after accidentally eating the mysterious Gum-Gum fruit, his body turns to rubber, ensuring he’ll never be able to swim! Nothing deters Luffy, though, and soon he’s headed off to seek his fortune in the footsteps of his idol, Captain “Red-Haired” Shanks. His goal? To make his way through the infamous Grand Line to seek the greatest pirate treasure of all time, One Piece.

The series’ first three volumes follow Luffy on a series of adventures as he attempts to gather a crew for his trek. Using his rubber-man skills (which come with special names like “gum-gum pistol”) he manages to defeat a corrupt navy captain and two cruel, selfish pirate captains with the help of the crew members he picks up along the way. “Cruel” and “selfish” are key words here, because what sets Luffy and his crew apart from the other pirates they meet is their lack of interest in pillaging and intimidating ordinary folk in order to get what they want.

By the end of the third volume, Luffy has collected two volunteers for his crew. First comes Zolo, a former bounty hunter who aims to be the greatest swordsman on earth. Later, they meet Nami, a master thief and skilled navigator who is determined to find the One Piece herself. Neither are obvious candidates for piracy when Luffy meets them. Zolo, after all, makes his living hunting pirates for money. And Nami hates pirates, to whom she lost someone dear long ago. Fortunately, whether they intend to or not, everybody likes Luffy.

And who can blame them? Luffy’s a cockeyed optimist, but more than that, he’s just an incredibly confident guy, and not in the spastic or swaggering manner of so many shonen heroes. The unearthly, smiling calm with which he faces challenges like getting sucked into an ocean whirlpool or being shot at with a canon would inspire faith in anyone. The series offers action and fighting galore, but its true strength is its grinning hero who simply takes everything as it comes.

Not that Luffy’s the only draw. Though these early volumes follow a fairly strict formula, there is enough heart to keep it from becoming tiresome. One story involving a pet store watchdog who faithfully guards the store after his master’s death is particularly touching. Also, the series’ supporting characters are exceptionally well-developed, even just within the first three volumes, and there is obviously much more about them to be revealed.

The series’ greatest weakness at this point is that its strict adherence to formula keeps any of the overblown villains Luffy faces from actually being scary. There’s no doubt at all when reading these volumes that Luffy will prevail (as always), with no major casualties among those he cares about. As a result, though the series is incredibly fun and filled with exciting action and hi-jinx, there’s never any real sense of danger. While this is perfectly fine in the short-term, as a new reader, it will be interesting to see how/if this changes over the course of the series and whether it’s enough to hold my attention.

With 58 volumes published in Japan and more on the way, One Piece has more than proven its staying power. I certainly look forward to more!

Review copy provided by the publisher. This review is a part of Shonen Sundays, a collaborative project with Michelle Smith. Buy this book at Amazon.com

Just a quick personal note: Since this is the last of our Shonen Sundays posts, I’d like to thank Michelle for inviting me into this idea of hers and for recommending two great series for me to enjoy! It’s been a great shonen-filled month. Thanks to all of you, too, for indulging us!

Black Butler, Vols. 1-2

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Black Butler, Vols. 1-2
By Yana Tobaso
Published by Yen Press
Rated OT (Older Teen)

Sebastian Michaelis is the dashing, fantastically capable, devoted butler of the Phantomhive family, whose only son (junior high-aged Ciel) has commanded the estate and its businesses since the demise of his parents. Sebastian performs his duties with super-human strength and skill, able to create elaborate chocolate sculptures and fight off scores of assassins in a single breath. “I am the butler of the Phantomhive family. It goes without saying that I can manage something as trivial as this,” is the standard line (with variations).

The story begins as a comic romp, with Sebastian being forced to employ his outrageous skills in order to compensate for the incompetence of the rest of the estate’s bumbling staff–a group of characters so grating it’s incredibly difficult to find them funny. This circumstance is only made worse by the section following, in which Ciel’s overly exuberant young fiancée makes the irritating staff seem downright loveable. Fortunately, just as one might be tempted to toss the book across the room in a fit of frustration, things begin to look up.

As it turns out, Sebastian isn’t super-human. He’s not human at all, but rather a devil who has entered into a contract with Ciel. Though he’s bound to serve Ciel devotedly until the end of his life, Ciel’s soul will then be Sebastian’s for eternity, a shift into darkness that finally brings the series to life. Sebastian’s sinister nature not only makes him more compelling as a character, but it also humanizes Ciel, who suddenly becomes a complex victim instead of just a cold, soulless pre-teen. The series’ second volume improves on this further, thanks in no small part to the fact that its primary adventure takes place away from the Phantomhive estate and its maddeningly dim employees.

The story’s action is elegant and beautifully-drawn, and it is the action that provides most of the series’ highlights, at least in the first two volumes. Even Tobaso’s humor works best in these moments, lending genuine whimsy to Sebatian’s battles as he takes out hired gunmen with kitchen forks and knives. Unfortunately, some of the series’ other elements are less whimsical than disturbing.

Black Butler runs in Square Enix’s Monthly GFantasy, a magazine filled with quite a number of very pretty shonen manga drawn by women, such as Jun Mochizuki’s Pandora Hearts, Yuhki Kamatani’s Nabari no Ou, Peach Pit’s Zombie-Loan, Naked Ape’s Switch, and Yun Kouga’s Gestalt. That these series are intended to appeal to female readers seems plain, with their bishonen character designs, elaborate costuming, and frequent BL overtones.

Unfortunately, Black Butler‘s specialty is not just BL but shota, which makes Sebastian even creepier and not at all in a good way. Though there may be nothing essentially inappropriate about Sebastian associating Ciel’s sleeping face with the soft pads of a cat’s paw, there’s an authorial wink to the audience that feels somewhat less than pure.

That said, though Black Butler gets off to a very slow and fairly vapid start, there is a sense that a deeper story lies within. With Tobaso’s pretty artwork as pleasant accompaniment, it may be worth sticking around just to see.

Review copies provided by the publisher. This review is a part of Shonen Sundays, a collaborative project with Michelle Smith.

9th Sleep

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9th Sleep
By Makoto Tateno
Digital Manga Publishing, 200 pp.
Rating: 16+

Luke is the child of a “Maria possession,” meaning that his mother was still a virgin when he was born. What he soon finds out is that he is also a god-prince fallen to Earth, as well as the reincarnation of the “King’s Soul,” which he received upon the death of his father. Unwilling to wed the bride chosen for him, Luke carried that soul with him when he committed suicide sixteen years previous and placed it in the womb of the earth-woman he loved.

Now that sixteen years have passed, he must fight his “brother” Malchus for possession of their father’s soul and kingdom.

If that summary seems convoluted, that’s no mistake. The premise of this manga is extraordinarily opaque, despite the fact that the mangaka attempts to explain it repeatedly, mainly by playing out the original scenario two more times over the course of the volume. In each incarnation, Luke avoids his final standoff with Malchus by killing himself, thus impregnating another unsuspecting young woman on the earth below.

While boys’ love plotlines are rarely required to be coherent (or even to exist at all) in order to attract a major portion of their fanbase, in this case there is also no boys’ love to speak of, leaving very little for fans of the genre to latch on to. Though the mangaka does offer up very pretty drawings of her two warring brothers, even standard fan service is in short supply.

Despite some attractive artwork, a confusing, vapid plot and lack of boys’ love action leave this one-shot manga without a clear audience.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.

Two by Inoue: Slam Dunk & Real

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Slam Dunk, Vols. 1-2
By Takehiko Inoue
Published by Viz Media

Red-haired tough guy Hanamichi Sakuragi just can’t get a girl. After a string of rejections in junior high, he finally meets pretty Haruko on his first day of high school. Trouble is, Haruko already has a huge crush on a junior high basketball star who has also enrolled at their school! Determined to win Haruko’s heart, Hanamichi decides to join the basketball team. He’s a huge, strong guy with a lot of natural ability. Unfortunately, he’s also brash, self-involved, and utterly lacking in maturity or emotional boundaries. Can Hanamichi ever learn to be a team player?

On one hand, Slam Dunk is an extreme example of a typical shonen sports manga, with its overblown characters, outrageous rivalries, and intense focus on winning. On the other, it is a fresh, lighthearted look at a guy who just can’t seem to catch a break, despite a level of optimism previously unknown to mankind.

It’s not that Hanamichi never wins, of course. The guy can’t lose in a fight, and he even manages to win (sort of) against Haruko’s brother Akagi (who also happens to be the captain of the basketball team) in an epic game of one-on-one. What he can’t win, no matter how he tries, is the girl, and it’s somehow refreshing to meet a shonen sports hero whose real focus is far, far from the game. Also, while Hanamichi’s myopic pig-headedness makes him generally insufferable, it’s also the key to his charm.

There’s a scene in the second volume, for instance, in which the captain of the school’s judo team attempts to lure Hanamichi away from basketball by offering him some photographs of Haruko in exchange. After a series of conversations consisting basically of, “So, will you join the team?” “No.” “But don’t you want the photos?” “I do!” it finally becomes clear that Hanamichi intends to refuse the captain’s offer and simply take the photos by force. Though the scene does nothing to improve Hanamichi’s image as a hopeless brute, it is surprisingly satisfying to see the judo captain’s tired scheme dismissed so easily.

Another strength of the series is its supporting characters. Though Hanamichi’s strong and silent love rival, Rukawa, is barely seen in these early volumes, basketball captain Akagi is already a powerful character. Mature enough to separate his personal dislike of Hanamichi from his responsibilities as captain, he displays the beginnings of the kind of depth and nuance found in Inoue’s later seinen series, Real. Also notable is the basketball team’s manager, Ayako, who is very much welcome as a confident, athletic, female presence on the testosterone-heavy court.

Inoue’s art is similarly refreshing, with a clean, easy-to-follow quality too rare in shonen manga. The artwork is quite expressive as well, revealing a real investment in the characters and a genuine love of the game.

Though the real action gets a slow start in favor of important characterization (and some less impressive class hi-jinx), Slam Dunk shows its potential right from the beginning. Just two volumes in, it’s not difficult to see why it’s a popular series on both sides of the Pacific. Recommended.

This review is a part of Shonen Sundays, a collaborative project with Michelle Smith.

*****

Real, Vols. 1-8
By Takehiko Inoue
Published by Viz Media

Tomomi Nomiya is a high school dropout, consumed by guilt over his involvement in a motorcycle accident that leaves a young woman without the use of her legs. Kiyoharu Togawa is a former junior high runner whose struggle with bone cancer costs him his right leg below the knee. Hisanobu Takahashi is a high school basketball hotshot who becomes paralyzed from the chest down after colliding with a truck while riding a stolen bicycle. What these three teens all have in common is a passion for basketball.

It’s not quite fair to compare this series to Takehiko Inoue’s earlier basketball series, Slam Dunk. After all, Slam Dunk is written for young boys, and Real for adults. Still, with both series being released concurrently in English, its difficult to resist. Though Slam Dunk contains the seeds of a great basketball manga, it is through Real that Inoue is able to express not only his real love of the game, but his real insight into the human condition.

The main action of the series revolves around the Tigers, a wheelchair basketball team with which Togawa maintains a fairly tormented relationship over the course of the series’ early volumes. It’s this team that brings Togawa and Nomiya together to begin with (in a sort of roundabout way). And though Takahashi has (as of volume eight) still just barely begun rehabilitation that might make it possible for him to one day participate in wheelchair basketball, it feels inevitable that he’ll end up there at some point. The basketball scenes in this series are intense, in a very different way from the super-fueled play in Slam Dunk, and entirely gripping even for non-fans of the game.

What’s most impressive about this series, however, is Inoue’s ability to get inside his characters’ heads and transform their thoughts and feelings into compelling narrative. Enormous chunks of the later volumes, for instance, involve Takahashi’s bitterness over his father leaving him as a child, torment over his current condition, and his inability to adjust to his new body.

Inoue not only brings Takahashi’s memories to life with a series of powerful flashbacks, he also focuses heavily on Takahashi’s grueling rehabilitation process, with a level of realism that kicks your average training montage squarely in the behind. Yet, through all this, Inoue deftly steers clear of allowing his story become mired in its own weight. Even the series’ heaviest sequences are a true pleasure to read.

Something that seems important to note, and possibly why Real is able to avoid becoming intolerably dark, is that it’s clear from the beginning that Inoue genuinely likes people. Despite the fact that each of his characters has endured terrible heartbreak, pain, and various levels of personal misery (not to mention that most of them have also been responsible for causing significant pain to others), Real is far from cynical. There is no overarching disappointment in humanity here, no deep bitterness, no long-winded speeches about the unavoidable fallibility of the species. Even his characters’ most bitter reflections are directed toward individuals rather than humanity as a whole.

Inoue’s artwork in this series is impressively mature. Without the attractive sheen of Slam Dunk‘s shonen sensibility, the world of Real is unpolished and gritty. Inoue’s early expressiveness is even more pronounced in this series, and much more detailed. Also, despite some great dialogue, Inoue lets his artwork do the bulk of the storytelling. Important moments are played out visually, panel-to-panel, without the need for any narration or extraneous dialogue to pick up the slack.

Both heart-wrenching and down-to-earth, this series makes the most of its human drama, both on and off the court, without ever sinking into melodrama. Simply put, Real is real. Highly recommended.

Review copies of vols. 5-8 provided by the publisher.

Arata: The Legend, Vols. 1-2

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Arata: The Legend, Vols. 1-2
By Yuu Watase
Published by Viz Media
Rated T (Teen)

In a world full of magic and gods, young Arata of the Hime Clan has been framed for the murder of his people’s beloved princess and is now on the run from her twelve godlike “protectors” who actually committed the crime. Arata Hinohara is a modern-day schoolboy just entering high school, where a bully from his past threatens to ruin the new friendships he’s just begun to form. When otherworld Arata flees into an enchanted forest in order to evade his pursuers, the two Aratas suddenly change places, each finding himself in a truly foreign world.

Though much of the story’s setup and look will be very familiar to fans of Watase’s well-known shojo epic Fushigi Yugi (and its currently-running prequel, Fushigi Yugi Genbu Kaiden), Arata: The Legend has considerable charm of its own. By exchanging her “schoolgirl in a strange land” for a schoolboy in a strange land, Watase plays right into her greatest strengths–period-inspired fantasy, action sequences, and pretty young men.

In otherworld Arata, Watase has inserted all the characteristics of the standard shonen hero. Brash, boyish, goodhearted, and strong, this Arata would be at home in nearly any shonen manga universe, protecting his loved ones with all his might. With modern-day Arata, however, she’s gone off the beaten path, at least to start.

Arata Hinohara is deeply scarred by the intense bullying that haunted him through junior high. Anxious not to stand out at his new high school, he hides his athletic abilities and avoids joining any clubs. He tentatively accepts the new friendships offered to him, but is wary of pushing them too far.

When, just a month into the new school year, the ringleader of his junior high misery suddenly joins his class, it’s a nightmare come true. And as his new friends abandon him, one by one, bitterness and cynicism take over his mind. Still, Arata’s raw hurt keeps him vulnerable, turning him not into a typical hard-as-nails loner (as much as he might wish it), but just a deflated, lonely boy who desperately needs someone to believe in him.

Though this may not be exactly profound, it’s a nice change of pace for a shonen adventure/fantasy and it goes a long way towards helping old material feel new again. With the first two volumes focusing heavily on Arata Hinohara, it will be interesting to see what Watase does with otherworld Arata in the next volume as he heads off for his first day at high school.

While Watase’s shojo fantasies have always featured a lot of action, this series allows her to really shine, with fights, chases, and weapons galore. There’s a natural, easy feel to the artwork in this series, even when compared to her other current work like Fushigi Yugi Genbu Kaiden, as though by choosing to draw shonen action heroes, she’s finally really hit her stride. Her gift for pretty, poignant faces is used to great advantage as well–something that surely can’t be hurting Weekly Shonen Sunday‘s crossover numbers.

Though Arata: The Legend may offer nothing truly new, its vulnerable hero and attractive, expressive artwork help to create a thoroughly enjoyable fantasy with a surprisingly fresh feel.

Review copy of volume two provided by the publisher.

I’ll Give It My All… Tomorrow, Vol. 1

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I’ll Give it My All… Tomorrow
By Shunju Aono
Published by Viz Media.
Rated T+ (older teen).

Shizuo Ogura is a single dad and low-level salaryman who, at the age of forty, drops out of the workforce to find himself. In actuality, where he “finds” himself is lost, unmotivated, and paralyzed by guilt and an increasing sense of panic. When inspiration finally hits and he announces to his family–his elderly father and teenaged daughter–that he’s decided to become a mangaka, the news is not terribly well-received.

Determined to prove himself, Shizuo digs in enthusiastically, despite a lack of any previous ambition or experience in the field. Unfortunately, his resolve fades quickly under the pressures of everyday life, eventually becoming part of an endless pattern of grand declarations, chronic procrastination, and unfulfilled promises, both to himself and to his family.

This series is technically a comedy, but it has a firm grasp on several unpleasant truths that are just too real to laugh at for anyone who has experienced this kind of profound loss of confidence at an age many would consider to be too late for a fresh start. Furthermore, Shizuo’s life lends itself to a series of humiliations, beginning just pages in when he runs into his teenaged daughter at a massage parlor (she’s working, he’s just finished being, uh, serviced) and going downhill from there. Though he’s moderately likable, Shizuo’s persistent inability to improve his circumstances is painful to watch, and it’s difficult to imagine how the series will remain readable if something doesn’t change pretty shortly into its next volume.

That said, volume one is genuinely funny and often insightful, especially when portraying Shizuo’s strained relationship with his daughter, who finally lets out some of her frustration with him near the end. “What would you do if I got published?” Shizuo asks her, after a volume’s worth of progressively pathetic starts and stops. “I really don’t know,” she responds. “So get published and we’ll find out.”

Aono draws Shizuo in a style that should feel cartoonish and exaggerated, but doesn’t. Shizuo’s hunched shoulders, awkward posture, and oversized head ably represent the epic torpidity of his character in both sickening and sympathetic terms, stopping just short of caricature. As a result, Shizuo exists in a sort of amplified reality that is both uncomfortable to accept and too real to ignore.

Whether providing a cynical chuckle or hitting just a bit too close to home, I’ll Give It My All… Tomorrow is a surprisingly compelling read.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Examiner.com.

To Terra… Vols. 1-2

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To Terra… Vols. 1-2
Written by Keiko Takemiya
Published by Vertical, Inc.

Sometime in the distant future, human beings, having conquered their enemies (natural and otherwise) have destroyed their environment beyond repair. Despite the development of warp-speed travel, humankind’s attachment to their home planet is so strong, even the establishment of a strict totalitarian society is preferable to leaving their beloved Terra. Thus the “Superior Domination” (“S.D.”) era is born–a social order intended to slowly bring the planet back to life.

The S.D. method for rejuvenation of its environment involves the development of a society made up of perfectly mature (read: obedient) adults–a circumstance it strives to create by removing biologically created families from the planet altogether. Under a new system mandating test-tube birth, the S.D. young are placed with government-chosen foster parents who provide ideal upbringing on Ataraxia, a planet used only for child-rearing. Once a child reaches the age of 14, he or she must undergo a psychically-administered “maturity test” to determine his or her suitability for adult life on Terra. Passing students will have their memories erased before being transferred to computer-run educational stations, where mental and psychological progress will determine their future employment and social standing as adults on Terra. Failures are unceremoniously eliminated.

The story’s primary characters are Jomy, a human who discovers he is actually “Mu,” a mutated species possessing strong psychic abilities whose members have been driven into hiding, and Keith Anyan, a model student from the S.D. educational system whose role as a Terran elite is to hunt down and destroy the Mu. Over the course of the series’ first two volumes, these characters will plot, scheme, and fight, but though the narrative is compelling, it’s hardly the point.

Two things make To Terra… special. The first is its beauty. Created by Magnificent 49er Keiko Takemiya, the series is filled with lush backgrounds, inspired panel designs, and an expressive sensibility unusual for shonen manga. Interestingly, when compared with the artwork and narrative style of fellow 49er Moto Hagio’s short science fiction series, They Were Eleven (which ran in Shojo Comic in 1975) it’s To Terra… that comes out feeling more typically shojo, with its heart-wrenching internal monologues, bishonen heroes, and boys’ love undercurrents.

Secondly, the series is distinguished by its author’s ambition. Having established her elaborate universe in meticulous, hard sci-fi detail, Takemiya tackles environmentalism, genetic engineering, fascism, ethnic persecution, and even the very nature of human identity, all in three oversized volumes. From a narrative standpoint, this seems doomed to failure. From emotional and visual perspectives, it’s absolutely stunning to behold.

Takemiya’s universe is fraught with emotion–intense psychological pain, brutal terror, soothing comfort, intense loyalty, and a longing for home so deep that it is able to control the fate of societies on two sides of a war. The story’s primary rivals (Jomy and Keith) are both relatable and heroic, each hindered by the biases of his people but special enough to envision something outside what he’s been taught.

Yet for all her characters’ deep thought and sympathetic tendencies, Takemiya keeps her readers at arm’s length. By refusing to choose a clear hero (at least over the course of the first two volumes), Takemiya keeps the door closed to personalization or self-insertion, safely encasing her beautiful, fiery universe within smooth plates of glass.

This is not a bad thing by any means. On the contrary, it’s this impersonal sheen that prevents the story’s melodrama from overwhelming its craft, which is so masterful on an aesthetic level, it would be a tragedy to miss. Though this lack of intimacy feels a bit jarring in the midst of such shojo-flavored visuals, it is the key component in saving the series from collapsing under its own weight.

Can To Terra… succeed in its quest to pinpoint the source of humanity’s fatal flaw or define the nature of identity? Most likely not. Does it matter? Not in the slightest. From its opening pages, To Terra… is an intricate, sci-fi beauty, not to be missed.

Review written as part of the Manga Moveable Feast.

We Were There, Vol. 10

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By Yuki Obata
Viz, 200 pp.
Rating: T+ (Older Teen)

After volume nine’s jump to the future, We Were There returns again to the past. This volume follows Yano in his first year away from Nanami as seen through the eyes of a classmate, Sengenji. While things continue to decline for Yano’s mother, Yano strives desperately to cling to his long-distance relationship with Nanami, even if this means shutting her out of everything he’s going through. Meanwhile, Yamamoto enters the picture once again and Sengenji battles her own feelings for Yano.

So much of this series revolves around questions of trust, and once again Yano falls short–not in terms of his own trustworthiness, but rather in his inability to trust Nanami with the things she most needs to know. Though he tries to justify this as concern for her, it’s obvious that what he’s really protecting is himself. “Even if wounds heal, scars are left behind,” he says to Takeuchi over the phone, following a labored metaphor about broken plants created to justify shielding Nanami from further truth. “So it’s better not to experience hardship if you don’t have to.”

Even watching Yano stumble, however, it’s impossible not to feel for him, and it’s exactly this kind of emotional ambiguity that this series handles so well. Every poor choice and heartfelt miscalculation is perfectly in-character, forcing readers to examine their own reactions just as in real life.

With its thoughtful tone and exceptional insight into the human mind and heart, We Were There continues to be a must-read for fans of mature shojo.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.

Ode to Kirihito, Part One

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Ode To Kirihito, Part One
By Osamu Tezuka
Published by Vertical Inc.
Rated ages 16+


Buy at RightStuf | Buy at Amazon

Kirihito Osanai, a young doctor with a prestigious university hospital, is deeply engaged in the study of Monmow Disease, an endemic condition that has overtaken the remote village of Doggodale. The disease reshapes the skeleton of its victims until they resemble dog-like creatures, ultimately resulting in death. Though Kirihito’s superior, Dr. Tatsugaura, has banked his career on Monmow being caused by a contagious pathogen, Kirihito believes it is an organic disease–a belief shared by his old friend and colleague, Dr. Urabe.

Urged on by Dr. Tatsugaura, Kirihito reluctantly leaves home to spend a month researching the disease onsite in Doggodale–a trip from which he is not meant to return. Thanks to Dr. Tatsugaura’s machinations, not only do the villagers repeatedly attempt to kill him, Kirihito also contracts the disease. And when his research finally leads him to the truth about the condition’s origin, a frantic call home reveals that Dr. Tatsugaura has erased his identity from the hospital records, leaving him helpless in his beast-like state.

Unrecognizable and alone, Kirihito becomes caught up in a series of increasingly degrading experiences that lead him across much of Asia. Meanwhile, in an effort to discover what happened to his friend, Dr. Urabe begins to uncover the depth of Dr. Tatsugaura’s corruption, leading him to truths he’s not fully prepared to handle.

Ode to Kirihito explores man’s darkest and most primitive urges–not by way of those whose bodies have literally turned to beasts, but rather through the increasingly hideous impulses of men who remain outwardly “normal,” most of whom represent depravity in one sense or another. Even Dr. Urabe, whose professional loyalties remain untainted by ambition, is unable to rise above his ugliest desires, ultimately rendering him no more civilized than the corrupt establishment he eventually attempts to fight.

Despite its undeniably somber tone, the series’ first volume is briskly paced and well-plotted, with brutally honest characterization and razor-sharp dialogue that goes a long way towards preventing the story’s messages from becoming irretrievably heavy-handed. What really brings it all together, however, is Tezuka’s artwork, which is wildly ambitious and (thankfully) just as successful.

There are two aspects of this series’ artwork that are particularly effective on an emotional level. First, the meticulous detail in Tezuka’s landscapes and backgrounds create what can only be described as a thick emotional tapestry–not just panel by panel but panel to panel. Tazuka uses shape and texture to cast emotion over multiple pages at a time, imposing cutting rain and angry teeth over the huddled curves of human agony, and lulling his characters (and his readers) into a sense of false comfort with the orderly flow of well-kept farmland.

Second, is the power of the series’ human imagery. A scene, for instance, in which a young nun with advanced Monmow is being displayed as a specimen to an auditorium full of physicians is so striking in its portrayal of her nobility in the face of unrelenting humiliation–her lone, proud figure standing against the sneering darkness–it easily moved me to tears. Tezuka’s artwork depicts both the cruelty and vulnerability of man with a combination of stark honesty and true compassion that makes it impossible to ignore either in favor of the other. His characters are both repulsive and sympathetic, often at the same time.

If these descriptions read as hyperbole, be assured that they are not. The quality of Tezuka’s imagery is truly this stunning, so much so that it’s difficult to return to other comics afterwards without feeling that something crucial has been lost. As lovely and emotionally resonant as much manga art can be, it is rare to find such rich visual storytelling in which the artwork and the narrative are so deeply merged.

Best of all, though Ode to Kirihito is artistically ambitious, it is also completely accessible. Readers intimidated by the author’s legendary status can rest easy in the knowledge that Tezuka is revered not just as a pioneer but as a powerful storyteller, and good storytelling is good storytelling, regardless of its origins.

Newly re-released by Vertical in two digestible volumes, Ode to Kirihito is a remarkable example of the power of sequential art.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Hikaru no Go, Vol. 19

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Hikaru no Go, Vol. 19
By Yumi Hotta and Takeshi Obata
Published by Viz Media
Rated All Ages


Buy at RightStuf | Buy at Amazon

With Hikaru’s pro career now in full swing, he’s anxious to begin competing with high-level players, but his early string of forfeits has put him behind. When an 18-and-under international team tournament is announced, Hikaru is determined to earn a place on the Japanese team. With Akira already selected, only two spots remain. Can Hikaru live up to his own expectations?

Though the end of volume seventeen felt very much like a series climax, volume nineteen demonstrates the series’ true strength as it takes Hikaru and Akira past the consummation of their epic rivalry and on to the rest of their lives as professional Go players. This volume’s lesson is that life is a string of new beginnings–that the completion of each challenge naturally leads to the next one. “I’ll take it one step at a time and keep advancing until I attain the divine move,” Hikaru says, in the heat of a typical battle with Akira. This is not just Hikaru’s lesson, however. Akira, Waya, Isumi, the Haze Junior High Go Club–even the older, more jaded players have no choice but to move on from challenge to challenge.

This may seem like a heavy-handed lesson, but careful detail and subtlety keep all potential preaching in check. As always, Hotta’s characterizations are wonderfully nuanced, and it’s the small moments that do the real heavy lifting. Even as Hikaru makes grand declarations in true shonen style, it’s his mother’s late-evening excursion to to replace the bathroom light bulb that somehow brings the message home. Life moves on for all of us, and so we must move with it.

On an unrelated note, with the senior members of the Haze Go Club moving on to cram school and high school entrance exams, this seems the time to mention just how many Manga Bookshelf Brownie Points this series has earned for having a non-skinny, non-conventionally attractive young female character who is portrayed as smart, athletic, and generally to be admired. Though Kaneko is likely to fade from this story as Hikaru moves further and further from his former middle-school life, she’s provided a real breath of fresh air as a decidedly stocky teenaged girl in a medium (and genre) heavily influenced by the same narrow standards for female beauty that pervade most First World popular culture.

With four volumes left to go, this series shows no sign of losing momentum. More importantly, it retains the unexpected elegance that has long made it a standout in its genre. Highly recommended.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Crown of Love, Vol. 2

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Crown of Love, Vol. 2
By Yun Kouga
Published by Viz Media
Rated T+ (Older Teen)

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With Hisayoshi’s help, Rima crams for the Hakuo High entrance exam. Terrified of losing the opportunity to spend time with her, Hisayoshi attempts to suppress his true intentions but is thrown off-guard by unwelcome attention from another idol with whom he’s been cast in a commercial. With the spotlight narrowing decidedly on Hisayoshi, can Rima ever see him as anything but a hated rival?

This series’ hero, Hisayoshi, continues to be both intensely creepy and surprisingly relatable. It’s a combination guaranteed to make most readers uncomfortable, but it’s also one of the series’ greatest strengths. Watching Hisayoshi perilously straddle the line between crushing teenager and bona fide stalker quickly becomes a rather terrifying series of “There, but for the grace of God,” moments for anyone who has experienced unrequited love (in other words, roughly everyone). His inner thoughts echo the kind of late-night self-confessions that rarely see the light of day, tucked firmly away in those dark, hidden corners where shame and denial conveniently coexist.

Meanwhile, Rima remains full of contradiction. Certain at every moment that the entertainment world is poised to chew her up and spit her out, she feels threatened by everyone. She is also desperate for approval, even from those she fears most. Her own obsessive crush reads closer to poignant than creepy, but even there she’s filled with resentment more than anything else.

Kouga’s art really shines in this series, putting her knack for pretty faces to great use, while maintaining a subversive undertone. With the unevenness of the series’ first volume behind her, Kouga continues on with a lot of clean paneling, breaking into more free-form shojo-stylings only in the story’s most dramatic moments.

It’s truly a pleasure to see a new shojo series making good on the promises of its first volume. For teenage romance with a dark, cynical bite, check out Crown of Love.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Twin Spica, Vol. 1

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Twin Spica, Vol. 1
By Kou Yaginuma
Published by Vertical, Inc.
Rated 13+


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Fourteen years after a catastrophic space shuttle accident that was responsible for numerous civilian casualties, Japan’s space program is finally getting back on its feet, beginning with the establishment of Tokyo Space School’s Astronaut Training Course. There, fourteen-year-old Asumi competes with other prospective students, hoping to be accepted into the program and perhaps one day join Japan’s first successful manned excursion into space.

Though this series finished its run in seinen magazine Comic Flapper just last year, its simple artwork and wistful tone make its first volume read like an instant classic. Even the volume’s cover art, with its innocent imagery and sepia-like warmth, evokes feelings of nostalgia. Also, though the story’s foundation is set firmly in hard sci-fi, it is its heroine’s poignant and occasionally whimsical inner life that really defines its voice. Asumi provides the heart of this story, and it is a strange and wonderful heart indeed.

With her mother gone and her father often working, Asumi’s only confidante is a self-proclaimed ghost with a lion mask covering his head, whom she refers to as “Lion-san.” Even as Asumi begins her teen years, Lion-san remains a constant in her life, serving as a source of insight into a world she’s never truly felt a part of. He also provides a walking, talking symbol of the disaster that took her mother from her–a memory that she has safely locked away in the depths of her subconscious. That the volume opens with a spirited conversation between Asumi and her ghostly friend establishes the series’ supernatural/psychological focus from the start.

Asumi is both idiosyncratic and relatable. As a child, she is quiet and baffling to others–leaning into her mother’s corpse to find out how it smells and later stealing the ashes in order to give her mother a better view of the sea she so loved. As a teen, her concerns are more typical, focusing on dreams for her future and her ability to make friends, but the lonely little girl is still there, seeking comfort and advice from her supernatural friend.

All that said, Twin Spica is hardly a one-woman show. Supporting characters shine in this volume, from Asumi’s lonely teacher (whose first love was also killed fourteen years ago) to the girls with whom Asumi completes her astronaut exam. Even Asumi’s mother, seen mainly in a coma, bandaged from head to toe, is a compelling figure. One particularly complicated character is Asumi’s father. Though he obviously loves his daughter and supports her dreams, he is somewhat lost as a single parent and too often expresses himself through violence.

Yagimuna’s artwork is utterly charming. Simple, clean, and full of heartfelt emotion, it flows easily from panel to panel. Again here, there is a persistent air of nostalgia to the series, enhanced even by Vertical’s choice of font.

This volume feels short–just 124 pages of main story, followed by two short comics that provide a good chunk of backstory (written by Yagimuna before the series proper)–though that perception could just as easily be attributed to its overall delightfulness. Though the series was published as seinen in Japan, it provides substantial appeal for teen girls as well, especially those with their own dreams of space travel.

Hopeful, charming, and tinged with sadness, Twin Spica leaves us wanting more. Highly recommended.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Wild Ones, Vol. 9

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By Kiyo Fujiwara
Viz, 200 pp.
Rating: Teen

Having finally agreed to speak to the father who abandoned him so many years ago, Rakuto is confronted with the possibility that he may eventually have to leave Sachie’s side in order to make peace with his own past. Meanwhile, Azuma is determined to let Sachie know how he feels, whether Rakuto is ready to play his part or not. Who does Sachie truly love? Has this ever been in question? If so, this volume provides an answer at long last!

Finally the series’ romantic tension is resolved, exactly as it was certain to be from the beginning. Some formulaic romances are enjoyable to read simply because they are so predictable. With these stories, the charm is in the writing, and watching their familiar scenarios play out is, frankly, comforting and downright delightful. Unfortunately, this is not one of those series. Though the couple in question are undeniably sweet, their relationship is so labored and so painfully drawn out, one finds oneself wishing something truly shocking would happen (a deadly plague? an alien invasion? ) just to break up the monotony. With its unbelievable premise and its terminally clueless lovers, this series seems determined to remain lifeless until the end.

Well, almost, anyway. To be fair, this volume’s final pages are honestly sweet, and may even evoke tears from desperate readers grateful for a bit of romantic satisfaction. It may not be an alien invasion, but long-time readers are at least assured some payoff.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.

Guest Review: Itazura na Kiss, Vol. 1

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Itazura na Kiss, Vol. 1
By Kaoru Tada
Published by DMP


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High school student Kotoko Aihara has admired Naoki Irie from afar after hearing him make an exceptional high school entrance speech two years ago. Her dream has been to get out of Class F (the class for underperformers) and into Class A—the same class as the school genius Naoki. However, as academics aren’t Kotoko’s strong point, she instead writes him a letter to tell him how she feels. Naoki flat-out rejects her letter offering in front of the entire school, saying he doesn’t like stupid women. Later that night after a mild earthquake destroys her new home, she and her father end up moving into the Irie household.

Itazura na Kiss is a romantic comedy that deals with the uncertainties of life in an amusing, reassuring way. Kotoko constantly finds herself out of her element and out of her depth. She is living in another family’s house and neither Naoki nor his little brother Yuuki wants her there. She hopes to attend college, but her entire class is failing the high school exams. And because she’s in Class F, Kotoko and her classmates are considered inferior and ridiculed by the rest of the school. To top it off, she has unwittingly attracted the attentions of a well-meaning but overly emotional yanki-type, Kin-chan, whose passionate, public declarations make her life at school even more embarrassing. Yet even through this, she now has a mother figure in her life (Naoki’s mom) who loves having a girl in the house and who does everything she can to make Kotoko feel welcome, including bringing Kotoko and Naoki together at every opportunity. Kotoko has great friends, including Kin-chan, who are there to help and watch out for her. Even Naoki, however unwillingly at the onset of trouble, is there to lend a hand when it matters. Her uncertainty about her future doesn’t go away, but she has two loving families living together in the same house to support her as she finds her own path.

Kotoko is a dreamer with a big heart. It’s these qualities that allow her to press on when others would simply give up. And most girls would with Naoki. He’s conceited, apathetic, and takes special pleasure in making Kotoko feel uncomfortable. But living in the Irie household gives Kotoko a chance to get to know a side to Naoki that he doesn’t show to others, and he is smart enough to realize that her involvement in his life is making him grow as a person. Rather than Naoki, who may be on his way to becoming a more compassionate person, Kotoko’s growth centers on surpassing obstacles that are deemed impossible by other more practical characters.

As well as creating engaging characters, Kaoru Tada had a gift for facial expressions. Readers can quickly grasp the emotional and comedic aspects in any given scene. Her artwork is full of gags, but this enables those rare quiet moments to have a special impact. This series was created in the early nineties, and it has smaller panels and fewer screentones than you would find in many current shoujo manga series. This isn’t a detriment to the work; it’s simply different. It also should be noted that the series wasn’t complete at the time Kaoru Tada passed away. However, this series is about the characters’ journey through life, not their destination, so it remains a fulfilling read even though the series never reaches the mangaka’s planned ending.

Itazura na Kiss has long been a favorite of mine, and I’m glad to see it released in the US. Few shoujo manga series allow the reader to follow the characters out of high school and stay with them as they go through subsequent stages of life. Amid the hardships and uncertainty the characters face, there is joy in these pages. Highly recommended.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Only By Chance

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Original text by Betty Neels
Art by Chieko Hara
Harlequin K.K./SOFTBANK Creative Corp., 126 pp.
Rating: YA (16+)

Henrietta Cowper is a low-level assistant to an insufferable physician at a London hospital. Adam Ross-Pit is a well-respected surgeon at the same facility. When Henrietta falls ill in the middle of her shift, Adam forces her into an extended hospital stay, ultimately resulting in the loss of her apartment and her job. Feeling responsible, he steps in to take care of her cats and ends up finding her housing and a new job as well—as a tour guide in a large manor near his country home. Though Henrietta and Adam are each drawn to one another, their social stations place them worlds apart. Is it possible for two gentle souls like these to overcome societal barriers?

Very little happens over the course of this manga, but that’s actually what makes it work so well. While more ambitious stories fall to pieces under the constraints of manga adaptation, this simple, quiet romance slips perfectly into place with no obvious cuts or awkward shifts in tone. There’s no real drama here—no true villains or any genuine conflict. The romance is inevitable but lazily pleasant, like sunlight on a Sunday morning or a cat stretching out after a long nap. Do these comparisons sound ridiculous? They’re not. If you’re now picturing a lazy cat stretching in the sun, you’re actually right on track.

Betty Neels’ protagonists are sweet in an vintage sort of way, reminiscent of the quieter characters of Louisa May Alcott or L.M. Montgomery, perfectly matched by Chieko Hara’s old-fashioned shojo character designs. The art is a real highlight of this volume overall, especially in terms of pacing and emotionally rich imagery. Though the lettering is as sloppy as all the books in this series, its stodgy font choice actually feels rather appropriate.

Though Only By Chance delivers neither high drama nor epic romance, this gentle little love story is truly a breath of fresh, spring air.

Only By Chance is available now at eManga.com. Review access provided by the publisher