kitaro

By Shigeru Mizuki. Released in Japan as “Gegege no Kitaro” by Kodansha and Shogakukan, serialized in various magazines. Released in North America by Drawn & Quarterly. Translated by Zack Davisson.

This is the final volume of D&Q’s Kitaro collections, and, while Kitaro has never really been serialized in a plot or characterization way, it picks an apt final story to end on. The largest story in the book is the titular Trial, where Kitaro is brought up against the Yokai Supreme Court and charged with helping humans at the cost of yokai. Which, admittedly, there’s a grain of truth to. A number of Kitaro’s adventures have featured him helping hapless humans who are being used and/or outright tortured by yokai – indeed, we’ll see some later in this collection. That said, no surprises for guessing who’s really gotten Kitaro into this mess. After much foofaraw, the trial ends with Kitaro agreeing that he will not only help innocent humans beset by yokai, but also the reverse – such as not helping the shady TV producers who are manipulated by Nezumi Otoko into the documentary stat starts this all off.

As this is the final Kitaro review I’m writing up (presumably), I’d like to expound once again on Nezumi Otoko, the Donald Duck to Kitaro’s Mickey Mouse. The trial story features perhaps Nezumi Otoko at his most iconic – setting up the entire situation in the first place for cash, teaming up with an even worse yokai, framing Kitaro and testifying against him, and then quickly rolling over when things turn against him. Of all the many and varied yokai we’ve seen over the course of the series, Nezumi Otoko’s actions are perhaps the most jaw-dropping – even the evil yokai are more consistent in what they do day to day. But of course Kitaro gives the reason why Nezumi Otoko is who he is – he’s half human, and it’s the humanity in him that makes him crafty and a bit of a complete snake. That said, for Kitaro to continually hang out with him after everything shows he has the patience of a saint… or that Nezumi Otoko has the love of the author.

The rest of the stories in the volume are more typical, featuring the classic Kitaro way of doing things… get devoured and killed by the enemy, then come back and do something about it. The most interesting story other than the trial episode has to deal with a cursed toilet in the middle of the woods (yes, really) and Kitaro also losing all his hair… which, as is pointed out by Nezumi Otoko, is one of the sources of his strength. Honestly, without it he’s almost unrecognizable. I also liked the story of the merman who blackmails/tortures Kitaro into getting him fish, and actually ends up living in a mansion as a human. This leads to the dark punchline where Kitaro agrees to turn him INTO a human, and then the merman finding out that life as a human is not all that greater after all. Also, watch out for the cute maid working in the merman’s mansion who walks off with Kitaro in the end – Mizuki rarely drew cute girls in this series.

The seven volumes of Kitaro released over here, as well as the compilation that came first, do so much to show off the strengths of Shigeru Mizumi as an artist and storyteller. They’re a must for any library. Ge! Ge! Ge-ge-ge-no-geeeeee…

By Shigeru Mizuki. Released in Japan as “Gegege no Kitaro” by Kodansha and Shogakukan, serialized in various magazines. Released in North America by Drawn & Quarterly. Translated by Zack Davisson.

This is not the first time that we’ve seen Shigeru Mizuki write himself and his family into a manga. Heck, it’s not even the first time he’s been in Kitaro. But the story “Oboro Guruma”, which is the highlight of this volume, really takes it further and involves Mizuki in the most metatextual way possible. At a coffeeshop he’s going to to avoid work and family (remember, no one puts himself down quite like Mizuki does), he runs afoul of the yakuza, but is saved by… Kitaro and Nezumi Otoko, who are in the same coffeeshop. He brings them home and lets them stay with his family, and they start to bond with the local neighbors. But then the entire town is covered in a strange gas, isolating it from the rest of Japan. The story alternates between what’s actually happening (it’s a yokai – try to contain your shock) and how Mizuki is dealing with it (by being somewhat weak and lazy – again, try to contain your shock).

Every single review of these titles I seem to talk about Nezumi Otoko, so I will confine myself this time to noting that the volume opens with him seeing Kitaro on a horse, hitting him over the head with a club, dope slapping him, and stealing the horse. It’s so beautifully in character I wanted to cry. Instead, though, I will talk about Kitaro, who actually isn’t at his best here. Kitaro tends to be a cypher at the best of times, and while he can sometimes be pretty righteous for the most part he tends to go with the flow in a stoic sort of way. The usual Kitaro way of fighting is to somehow get killed/beaten up, come back in a weird supernatural way, and then find a way to defeat the yokai that did him harm. In this volume, though, he really seems to be put through the wringer, and there’s less of him being clever.

Kitaro as a manga tends to be somewhat silly, particularly in the resolutions, and this one tops itself quite a bit. I was highly amused at Kitaro almost getting killed by having teeth spit at him, and the poop gags that tend to be rife in shonen manga of this period are here as well, as at one point the victims of a yokai are excreted. Topping them all, though, is Kitaro getting the crap kicked out of him, to the point where his head is covered in bumps (cartoon-style)… and then having those bumps launch as missiles to counterattack. It’s so incredibly silly, and yet it also shows off the sheer brilliance of Mizuki’s imagination. He may confine himself to yokai here, but you see why – despite telling essentially the same story over and over (a yokai is doing bad things, Kitaro stops it), the series is never boring.

I believe that the next volume, out early next year, will be the final one in these omnibus collections. They’re all worth picking up. Kitaro is a style of manga that is both very reminiscent of the late 60s manga style and yet also timeless. It’s also very re-readable. Highly recommended.

By Shigeru Mizuki. Released in Japan as “Gegege no Kitaro” by Kodansha and Shogakukan, serialized in various magazines. Released in North America by Drawn & Quarterly. Translated by Zack Davisson.

I’m sure that if I looked at my previous reviews of Kitaro they would find me saying the same thing as I’m about to say here, so I apologize for the repetition, but I love Nezumi Otoko. He is the number one reason to read this series, even more than the cool adventure plots of the weird, goody and terrifying yokai. And that is simply because he is SO TERRIBLE. He is just the worst. When Mizuki wrote his Hitler book, and needed a narrator who could enchant the reader while still being able to get away with throwing his arms around Hitler as if they’re buddies, there was only one real choice. This volume shows Mezumi Otoko getting in a fight with Kitaro (meaning he slaps him across the chops – his signature move), team up with the titular vampire, sell out his friend and have Kitaro reduced to a skull, etc. Even when he is supposedly on the side of our hero, you’re reminded that his stench is repellent and his farts are lethal. He’s so much fun.

In non-Nezumi Otoko discussion of this new volume of Kitaro, I admit that when I saw the cover, I was expecting more of a Beatles parody than I actually got. Sure the vampire has a Beatle haircut, and carries a guitar with tempting music, but otherwise he’s just a garden-variety Mizuki villain. Not that this is entirely a bad thing, as Mizuki’s yokai can be real pieces of work – Kitaro needs a lot of help to triumph here. There’s also a second vampire story in the book involving, of all things, a vampire Marilyn Monroe. Kitaro needs a lot of help here as well – in fact, in this book, his eyeball father may get more heroic things to do than he does. But sadly, such is the way of adventure thrillers, where the new villain has to be shown to be impressive by making mincemeat of the hero – at first.

The last two stories in the book feature Kitaro in a bit more of a heroic mode. All the stories, however, are exemplary in their economy. The non-yokai cast may be a bit bland – honestly, between the dialogue and the hangdog expressions he gives everyone you’d be forgiven for thinking that all the humans in Kitaro’s universe speak in a monotone – but there’s something happening on every page, and we rarely get too many subplots or sidesteps, even in the longer tales such as the title one. These stories are not really here to make people debate backstory or create Kitaro High School AU fanfiction, like other, more modern manga. They tell a story well, fast, and then move on to the next story. As such, Kitaro should be a lot of fun to anyone who enjoys reading a good story. And, as previously stated, they have Nezumi Otoko. Who is just awful. Seriously.

By Shigeru Mizuki. Released in Japan as “Gegege no Kitaro” by Kodansha and Shogakukan, serialized in various magazines. Released in North America by Drawn & Quarterly. Translated by Zack Davisson.

As the title might suggest, there’s no really big epic in this volume of Kitaro. We get two medium sized adventures and some shorter stories, all of which are decent and show off the strengths of the Kitaro manga and characters. Kitaro not only battles against Chinese yokai who are trying to invade, but also demons from hell. And here we see that Kitaro and his world are something for children – they’re the ones who see and interact with Kitaro, and they’re the ones who are endangered. Occasionally we see an adult with issues, such as the man who has a cursed hand, but mostly in terms of yokai Kitaro is something that adults don’t believe in anymore, but kids know is real. It’s a good way to get the reader on your side, and Mizuki is a master at it.

Though we do see several recurring yokai, this is not the cozy Kitoaro of the 1990s (Neko Musume is mentioned in the accompanying history but nowhere in sight), and there’s honestly only three who are of any importance here: Kitaro, his eyeball father, and the amazingly two-faced Nezumi Otoko, who continues to show off why he became the breakout favorite character of this series. He’s such an appalling ass, showing off that he’ll do anything for money, will say anything to save his own skin, and that he gives up super easily and accepts a horrible fate – he seems to literally have no positive traits whatsover. Except, of course, that he makes the reader laugh. (Kudos to Zack Davisson’s translation here, by the way, which excels at making Nezumi Otoko funny – I lost it at “I’m just a carefree college student!”.)

I will say that it’s very clear that these are being written on the fly, and that Mizuki puts down all the ideas he has on the page, and when he runs out of them the story stops – sometimes quite abruptly. None of these are week-to-week serials with cliffhangers, they’re all self-contained. Sometimes the climaxes are epic, such as the final battle against the Chinese yokai, which is essentially two armies going after one another. And sometimes the need to wrap up a story in order to meet the page count is so obvious it becomes hilarious, and you get moments like “Kitaro fires his machine gun teeth and hits the monster in the nuts”, which is, let’s face it, something that you are highly unlikely to see in most modern manga. Though I think One Piece might give it a shot.

This is another solid volume of Kitaro, and I’m delighted to see the anthology coming out over here, containing stories approved by Mizuki before his death. And while all the stories are about yokai you never quite know what you’re going to get next – I understand the next volume crosses over with Buffy and the Beatles! OK, probably not. But it’s definitely going to be a must read. These are good editions of classic influential manga.

By Shigeru Mizuki. Released in Japan as “Gegege no Kitaro” by (among others) Kodansha, serialized in various magazines. Released in North America by Drawn & Quarterly. Translated by Zack Davisson.

The large majority of this book is made up of the title story, the first really huge epic tale we’ve seen from this collection of Kitaro stories by Drawn & Quarterly. And it’s a real pip, showing off the best qualities of Kitaro in the 1960s. He’s far more heroic here than he’s been in the past two books, but it’s a pretty thankless task, especially when he’s going up against shifty Japanese politicians. Honestly, you’d think he’d be used to dealing with them given that he’s best friends with Nezumi Otoko, who is in peak form here, always siding with whatever appears to be the winning side, and showing no moral qualms about throwing humanity under the bus. There’s also a larger role for Itta Momen, a yokai made up of flying cloth that I thought was meant to be toilet paper for the longest time.

The villains in this story are the titular Tanuki, who have featured in many Japanese folktales, though not usually as yokai per se. These are The 800 Tanuki of Shikoku, who are here to reclaim earth and take over. They’ve got many and varied ways of doing this, each of which seems to set a higher bar of “how on Earth will Japan get out of this one”? What’s worse, they really do a number on Kitaro, taking him out several times via various fatal traps – and I mean literally fatal, by the end of this story Kitaro has to regenerate from a baby for a month or so. It’s very much in the classic serial vein, which unfortunately means that the ending reads like “OK, wrap it up in this chapter” – it’s very sudden. But the grotesque ideas and imagery are pure Mizuki, and really stand out in this epic story, which also borrows from kaiju-style tales.

I was somewhat surprised by seeing the two-faced Japanese Prime Minister tell Kitaro that they will rely on him to save Japan just like Moshe Dayan saved Israel, till I realized that this was running in Shonen Magazine only two months or so after the Six Day War. You don’t think of Kitaro as referencing too many current events, but there are times it does, particularly when he gets involved in politics, as seen here. (Speaking of references, I was rather startled to see the Tanuki declare that they were going to have the Japanese woman serve them as maids – if only they’d been 30 years later they could have gone to a cafe instead!) The final two stories feel a bit like filler compared to the epic Tanuki war, but we do get to see a rare example of Nezumi Otoko coming out on top for once – it reminds me of the rare cartoons where Tom won over Jerry.

This is a very strong volume of Kitaro, though the reader should be prepared for bad things to happen to him – he spends some of the book as a literal puddle of liquid. As always, a must for fans of classic manga, as well as modern yokai readers who want to read something by the master.