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Say I Love You, Vols. 1-3

January 6, 2017 by Katherine Dacey

Back in the 1980s, filmmaker John Hughes peddled an intoxicating fantasy to thirteen-year-old girls: you might be the class misfit–the kid who wore the “wrong” clothes, listened to the “wrong” music, and had the “wrong” friends–but the hottest guy in school could still fall for you. Better still, he’d like you for being a “real” person, unlike the two-faced girls who inhabited his social circle. You’d have a bumpy road to your happily-after-ever, of course, since his friends felt compelled to say that you weren’t in his league, but in the end, your sincerity and quirkiness would prevail.

Say I Love You reads a lot like a manga version of Pretty in Pink or Some Kind of Wonderful, right down to the meet-cute between Mei, a moody loner, and Yamato, the most popular guy in school. Mei mistakenly believes that Yamato tried to peek up her skirt, and responds with a powerful roundhouse kick. Though Yamato’s friends demand an apology from her, Yamato is intrigued by Mei’s display of bravado and asks her out.

Mei is initially bewildered by Yamato’s courtship: why would someone as outgoing, handsome, and well regarded find her interesting? (You, dear reader, may also wonder why Yamato pursues Mei, given her generally sullen demeanor.) As Mei soon discovers, however, Yamato’s dating history is more complicated than she assumed; his good looks belie an earnest, thoughtful person who lost his virginity before he met someone he really cared about. He’s willing to endure a few tearful outbursts–not to mention some mixed signals–if it means he’ll get to know the real Mei before they go all the way.

And speaking of mixed signals, Say I Love You is refreshingly honest in acknowledging the full spectrum of teenage desire. Some characters embrace their feelings in healthy ways; others use sex to fill a void in their emotional lives; and still others are just beginning to explore their sexuality. Though many of the sexual encounters in the series are ill-advised, the teenage logic that underpins them rings true; an adult may feel an uncomfortable pang of recognition while reading Say I Love You.

The series’ greatest strength, however, is that author Kanae Hazuki is unusually generous with her supporting players. We’re privy to both Mei and Yamato’s thoughts, of course, but Hazuki also pulls the curtain back on other characters’ interior lives. In volume two, for example, mean girl Aiko becomes the temporary focus of the story, narrating her own transformation from a plump, pretty girl to a skinny, angry young woman who is furious that Yamato doesn’t like her. Her blunt self-criticism and body hang-ups remind younger readers that everyone wears a mask in high school; even students who seem outwardly blessed with good looks or talent are wrestling with the familiar demons of self-doubt and self-loathing.

If I had any criticism of Say I Love You, it’s that the plot twists are a little too by-the-book, with beach visits, Valentine’s Day agita, and misunderstandings of the “I saw you kiss her!” variety. In volume three, for example, Hazuki introduces Megumi, a model who’s hell-bent on making Yamato her boyfriend. When a direct approach doesn’t work–Yamato, of course, rebuffs Meg’s initial proposition–Meg transfers schools and ropes Yamato into becoming a model himself. I realize that “model,” “celebrity,” or “singer” epitomize a thirteen-year-old’s dream job, but the artifice and obviousness of diving into the modeling world feels like an unnatural direction for such a finely observed romance.

Perhaps the best compliment I could pay Say I Love You is that it has all the virtues of Pretty in Pink and Some Kind of Wonderful: it’s got a proud, tough heroine who’s skeptical of the popular kids, a sincere hot guy who can see past her bluster, and a veritable Greek chorus of peers who chart the ups and downs of their relationship. All it needs is a killer soundtrack.

Say I Love You, Vols. 1-3
By Kanae Hazuki
Rated OT, for older teens
Kodansha Comics, $10.99

This review originally appeared at MangaBlog on October 2, 2015.

Short Takes: Food Wars, Manga Dogs, and Yukarism

January 6, 2017 by Katherine Dacey

Did you receive an Amazon or RightStuf gift certificate this holiday? If so, this post is for you! Below, I’ve reviewed the first volumes of three series that debuted in 2014, offering a quick-and-dirty assessment of each. Already read Food Wars? Fear not—I’ve also tackled Manga Dogs, a comedy about a teen manga artist, and Yukarism, a time-traveling, gender-bendering manga from Chika Shiomi (Canon, Yurara).

Food Wars, Vol. 1
Story by Yuto Tsukada, Art by Shun Saeki
Rated T+, for Older Teens
VIZ Manga, $9.99

Food Wars begins with an only-in-manga scenario: Soma Yukihira’s dad shutters the family’s greasy spoon restaurant and lights out for America, leaving his son behind. With no place to go, Soma enrolls at Totsuki Culinary Academy, a hoity-toity cooking school that prides itself on its wealthy alumnae, rigorous curriculum, and high attrition rate. Soma’s working-class background is a major handicap in this environment, but his can-do attitude and culinary instincts allow him to triumph in difficult situations, whether he’s salvaging an over-salted pot roast or wowing an unscrupulous developer with a simple potato dish.

In theory, I ought to hate Food Wars for its cartoonish characters and abundant cheesecake, two qualities I generally despise in a manga. But here’s the thing: it’s fun. Soma repeatedly shows up bullies and snobs with his ability to transform everyday dishes into haute cuisine, proving that good food doesn’t need to be fancy. Though Soma’s foes are stock types—the Busty Bitch, the Rich Mean Boy, the Teacher With Impossibly High Standards—Shun Sakei’s crisp caricatures make them seem like fresh creations. I wish I could say the same for Sakei’s abundant fanservice, which quickly wears out its welcome with porny images of women enjoying Soma’s cooking. These pin-up moments are supposed to be funny, I guess, but the heavy emphasis on heaving cleavage and bare skin seems more like a concession to teenage male taste than an organic part of the story.

The verdict: I can’t decide if Food Wars is a guilty pleasure or a hate read, but I’ve just purchased volumes 2-4.

Manga Dogs, Vol. 1
By Ema Toyama
Rated T, for Teens
Kodansha Comics, $10.99

Manga Dogs has a terrific premise: a teenage artist decides to enroll in her school’s manga program, only to discover that her teacher is inept, and her classmates are pretty-boy otakus with no skill or work ethic. When Kanna’s classmates discover that she’s actually a published artist, Fumio, Fujio, and Shota glom onto her in hopes of breaking into the business—even though her debut series is on the verge of being cancelled.

With such a ripe set-up, it’s a pity that Manga Dogs is DOA. Part of the problem is that the script panders to the reader at every turn, whether it’s poking fun at reverse-harem tropes or saddling the characters with pun-tastic names inspired by famous manga creators. The author spends too much time patting the reader on the back for “getting” the jokes and not enough time writing genuinely funny scenarios or imbuing her characters with more than one personality trait each. The other issue is pacing: the story and artwork are both frenetic, with characters screaming, jumping, and flapping their arms on almost every page. By the end of the third chapter, I felt as if someone had beaten me up for my lunch money while asking me, “Do you think I’m funny? No? Now do you think I’m funny?”

The verdict: Just say no.

Yukarism, Vol. 1
By Chika Shiomi
Rated T, for Teen
VIZ Media, $9.99

Yukarism combines the supernatural elements of Rasetsu with the historical drama of Sakuran, then adds a dash of gender-bending weirdness for good measure. The story revolves around Yukari, a best-selling author whose novels explore the history of Edo’s red-light district. Though fans attribute the abundant details in his writing to research, Yukari has an even better strategy for learning about the past: he visits it! When he returns to the 1800s, however, Yukari becomes Yumurasaki, a top-earning oiran (or courtesan) enmeshed in a web of political intrigue, lust, and violence.

Given the complexity of the plot, it’s not surprising that the first volume of Yukarism is a bumpy ride. The tone see-saws between broad physical comedy and brooding melodrama, making it difficult to know if Yukari’s plight is being played for laughs or sniffles. The script, on the other hand, is too pointed; manga-ka Chika Shiomi is so intent on telling us what Yukari is thinking and seeing that she forgets the old dictum about showing, not telling. The same kind of editorial interventions result in at least one character waxing profusely about how handsome and cool Yukari is, just in case we haven’t realized that he’s supposed to be handsome and cool. Now that the basic parameters of the story have been established, however, Shiomi can dispense with the heavy-handed dialogue and do what she does best: write sudsy supernatural romances with beautiful characters in beautiful costumes.

The verdict: Volume two should be a pure guilty pleasure.

These reviews originally appeared at MangaBlog on January 2, 2015.

Complex Age, Vol. 1

June 10, 2016 by Ash Brown

Creator: Yui Sakuma
U.S. publisher: Kodansha Comics
ISBN: 9781632362483
Released: June 2016
Original release: 2014
Awards: Tetsuya Chiba Award

I almost passed over the English-language debut of Yui Sakuma’s Complex Age, but I’m very glad that I took the opportunity I had to read it. Complex Age, Volume 1 was first released in Japan in 2014 while the English-language edition of the volume was released in 2016 by Kodansha Comics. I believe that Complex Age is currently the first and only professional work by Sakuma to have been released. The manga began in 2013 as a one-shot which won the Tetsuya Chiba Award. (That one-shot is also included in the first volume of Complex Age.) Then, in 2014, Complex Age was relaunched as a series. While the original one-shot and the longer series don’t appear to be directly related when it comes to characters and plot, they do share a similar basic premise—an adult woman who is growing older and coming to terms with what that means for her hobbies and interests. I actually didn’t know that was what Complex Age was really about before reading the first volume. I thought it was simply about cosplay and since cosplay—the passion of the series’ main character—isn’t a particular interest of mine, I wasn’t anticipating that the manga would be story that I would end up so closely identifying with.

Nagisa Kataura is twenty-six years old, lives with her parents, and works as a temp worker for a tutoring agency, but in her spare time she is an accomplished and admired cosplayer. Her favorite character to cosplay is Ururu from the anime Magical Riding Hood Ururu who represents everything she wants to be as a person. Nagisa pours herself into her creations and is known for her attention to detail and high-quality work. She does all that she can to achieve perfection and to completely embody a character. However, despite cosplay being such a huge part of her life, she keeps her hobby a secret from her family and coworkers. Now that she’s an adult it’s become even more difficult for Nagisa to share her passion with people who aren’t already accepting of cosplay; it’s considered by many to be a frivolous hobby more suited for much younger fans. As she ages, Nagisa becomes more and more self-conscious about her cosplaying and the criticism that she receives becomes harder and harder for her to take. And yet Nagisa still loves what she does and cosplay is a very important part of who she is.

At first, I wasn’t sure that I really liked Nagisa. The opening chapter begins with her preparing for an event at which she will be cosplaying Ururu, putting an incredible amount of effort into making sure that everything is just right. But while she is at the event she is exceptionally rude and judgemental of the other people there, her behavior culminating in an outburst in which she harshly and publicly criticizes another cosplayer for not respecting the hobby and for not taking it seriously enough. However, as Complex Age progresses, Nagisa becomes a much more sympathetic, or at least understandable, character. The reason she is so sensitive is that her confidence, self-worth, and personal identity are almost irrevocably intertwined with her cosplaying. And so what Nagisa perceives as an insult to the hobby becomes an insult to her personally; when someone else is more talented or more physically suited to portray her favorite characters, she can only see her own faults and limitations being emphasized in comparison. She’s genuinely afraid that she is getting too old for cosplay and that voluntarily giving it up or being rejected by others because of her looks or age would result in her losing a large part of herself.

Before reading Complex Age I didn’t know much at all about the behind-the-scenes work that goes into cosplay, but the manga generally incorporates those sorts of interesting details quite nicely into the story. I’m still not particularly interested in or personally invested in cosplay myself, but Complex Age still resonated with me a great deal. Like Nagisa, I’m an adult interested in media and hobbies that many people look down upon or generally associate with a younger age group (in my case, manga and comics among other things). I also know quite well and understand the dangers of allowing a passion to define one’s self or to impact one’s self-esteem. I have dealt with and, if I’m completely honest, continue to deal with many of the same uncertainties, insecurities, and struggles that Nagisa faces in Complex Age. While so far I do like the series, I think that the Complex Age one-shot about Sawako, a thirty-four-year-old woman letting go of her passion for dressing in Gothic Lolita fashion, made an even greater impression on me. (Also, Sawako’s husband is pretty great.) I’m very curious to see if Sakuma will take Nagisa’s story in a similar direction or if ultimately the Complex Age series will be a little less bittersweet than its predecessor.

Thank you to Kodansha Comics for providing a copy of Complex Age, Volume 1 for review.

Princess Jellyfish, Vol. 1

April 8, 2016 by Ash Brown

Creator: Akiko Higashimura
U.S. publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9781632362285
Released: March 2016
Original release: 2009
Awards: Kodansha Manga Award

Akiko Higashimura’s Kodansha Manga Award-winning Princess Jellyfish wasn’t a manga series that I expected would be licensed for an English-language release. Anecdotally, josei manga hasn’t historically done particularly well in the North American market. And on top of that, Princess Jellyfish is a longer series, currently ongoing at more than fifteen volumes, which can also make licensing prohibitive. When Kodansha Comics announced that it would be publishing Princess Jellyfish in print in English, fulfilling the hopes of many fans, I was thrilled. My knowledge of Princess Jellyfish stems from the 2010 anime adaptation directed by Takahiro Omori which I thoroughly enjoyed. However, as the anime only adapted a small portion of the series, it left me wanting more, so I am very excited to see the original Princess Jellyfish manga available in translation. Kodansha’s release of the series is an omnibus edition with a larger trim size and color pages included. The first omnibus, published in 2016, collects the first two volumes of the series as released in Japan in 2009.

Tsukimi is the youngest resident of Amamizukan in Tokyo, a communal apartment building catering to a particular type of woman who is completely and utterly devoted to her specific interests despite societal expectations—the fujoshi. Chieko, the manager of Amamizukan, collects traditional Japanese dolls and kimono. Mayaya is obsessed with Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Jiji has an intense appreciation for older, distinguished gentleman. Banba is fixated on trains. Mejiro is a reclusive boys’ love mangaka. And as for Tsukimi, ever since her mother took her to an aquarium as a child, she has adored jellyfish. Tsukimi’s love of jellyfish is one of her remaining ties to her mother who died of illness many years ago. It’s also that passion that leads to her chance encounter with Kuranosuke, the illegitimate son of a prominent politician who she initially assumes is a stylish and fashionable young woman due to the way he was dressed at the time. Their meeting will not only have a great impact on Tsukimi, but on everyone living at Amamizukan.

Like the residents of Amamizukan, Kuranosuke goes against society’s set roles and expectations, but in his case he’s doing it deliberately rather than it being an unintentional side effect of an obsession. Princess Jellyfish plays with the notions of outward appearance and self-expression in some really interesting and satisfying ways. I’m generally skeptical of stories that put an emphasis on beauty and looks or that make use of dramatic makeovers (for various reasons, Tsukimi and the rest of the Amamizukan fujoshi become targets of Kuranosuke’s enthusiasm for fashion and makeup), but Princess Jellyfish is a series that recognizes that a person’s appearance is only one part of an extremely complicated whole and that attractiveness is much more than skin deep. It also recognizes that there is tremendous power in someone being able to influence other people’s perceptions of who they are and that first impressions are often rightly or wrongly based on what can be visibly seen. Kuranosuke understands this and uses that knowledge to his advantage, as does the series antagonist Inari—a woman paving the way to the demolition of Amamizukan to make way for new urban development. Through blackmail and her own sex appeal, she leverages the importance placed on appearances and society’s inherent sexist prejudices for her own benefit, often finding the circumstances to be distasteful but the feeling of being in control of them intoxicating.

While it is the impetus for much of the story’s forward movement in the first omnibus, the threat of losing Amamizukan is only one of many intertwined plot threads in Princess Jellyfish. Tsukimi’s maturation as she continues to deal with the pain of her mother’s death and begins to fall in love for the first time is very important to the series as is Kuranosuke’s complicated family history and relationships. Although Kuranosuke is heterosexual, considering his custom of dressing as a woman his presence in the manga brings additional elements of queerness and gender fluidity to the series which I especially enjoy. (Also worth mentioning: the Princess Jellyfish translation notes are very thorough and valuable in explaining some of the nuances of Japanese word usage and terminology in regards to various gender and queer identities, which can be quite different from their Western counterparts.) Princess Jellyfish incorporates a fair amount of comedy which is one of the reasons the manga has such charm. But while Kuronosuke’s fashion choices and gender performance can result in humorous situations, the series treats him as a person and not as a joke, which I greatly appreciate. In fact, Princess Jellyfish has an entire cast full of wonderful characters which is perhaps the series’ greatest strength.

Die Wergelder, Omnibus 1

January 29, 2016 by Ash Brown

Creator: Hiroaki Samura
U.S. publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9781632361950
Released: December 2015
Original release: 2013-2015

I was very excited when Kodansha Comics announced that it would be releasing Die Wergelder in English. At the time, I actually didn’t know much about the manga series beyond the fact that it was created by Hiroaki Samura, but that was more than enough to capture my attention—Samura’s long-running, award-winning series Blade of the Immortal was one of the first manga that I ever read and it remains a personal favorite. I’ve also throughly enjoyed Samura’s two short manga collections that have been translated, Ohikkoshi and Emerald and Other Stories. As Blade of the Immortal was drawing to a close in Japan, Die Wergelder was just beginning, the first volume being published in 2013. The second volume was released two years later in Japan in 2015. The first installment of Kodansha’s English-language edition of Die Wergelder, also published in 2015, collects both of those volumes.

Shinobu has made a mistake that may very well cost her life. After attempting to run way with a low-ranking yakuza member, along with a rather large sum of his syndicate’s money, the two of them are caught and Ro’s boss isn’t particularly happy with them. Normally Shinbou would likely have been killed without a second thought, but her background happens to make her uniquely qualified for a job that Ro’s boss needs done. She’s more or less forced into accepting and so suddenly finds herself embroiled in the schemes and rivalries of multiple groups. The world of organized crime is fraught with danger and made even more so with the appearance of Träne, an assassin hellbent on revenge against those who have done her tremendous wrong. And then there’s Jie Mao, an opposing bodyguard whose deadly combat skills make her a formidable foe. Shinobu does have the guts and brash attituded needed to survive, but that’s also a large part of why she’s in such trouble to being with.

Die Wergelder is heavily inspired by or at least influenced by 1970s Japanese pink films—theatrical releases steeped with eroticism, nudity, and sex. More specifically, Samura is taking cues from Toei’s Pinky Violence series of films. (Träne’s dark long coat, wide-brimmed hat, and tale of vengeance would appear to be a direct reference to the Female Convict Scorpion films in particular.) Likewise, Die Wergelder contains fairly extreme content, including gratuitous sex and explicit violence. Women and men, although to a somewhat lesser extent, are brutalized and degraded both sexually and physically throughout the story. Die Wergleder is true to its lurid and exploitative roots and the series seems to be self-aware of that. With an additional heavy dose of sadism, it’s certainly not a manga to be lightly recommended to just anyone, though what it does it does well.

By far the most interesting and compelling characters in Die Wergelder are the women. They are easily the most sexualized and objectified as well, but they’re also powerful and terrifying forces to be reckoned with. In comparison, the men of Die Wergelder aren’t particularly memorable, even when they are impressively powerful their own right. Träne and Jie Mao are stunning to watch as they fight. As I’ve come to expect, Samura’s action sequences are dramatic and dynamic. The martial skills shown may frequently be unbelievable, but they are devastatingly effective. With all its brutality and torture, Die Wergelder can be exceptionally violent and gruesome even while being beautifully drawn. It’s a deliberately uncomfortable series, Samura pushing the boundaries of acceptability. Rape, murder, abuse, and unethical medical experimentation are all regular occurrences, and that’s just scraping the surface of the despicable, thrilling, disturbing, titillating, and vicious world that Samura explores in Die Wergelder.

Vinland Saga, Omnibus 7

January 13, 2016 by Ash Brown

Creator: Makoto Yukimura
U.S. publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9781612628035
Released: September 2015
Original release: 2013-2014
Awards: Japan Media Arts Award, Kodansha Manga Award

I honestly believe Makoto Yukimura’s Vinland Saga to be one of the best manga series currently being released in English. An epic tale of revenge, idealism, and the tremendous cost of violence, Vinland Saga is an incredibly engaging work with impressively compelling characters. In addition to being a personal favorite of mine, over the course of its publication the series has also won a Japan Media Arts Award and a Kodansha Manga Award among other honors. Kodansha Comics has been releasing Vinland Saga in English as a series of hardcover omnibuses. The seventh omnibus, released in late 2015, collects the thirteenth and fourteenth volumes of the manga originally published in Japan in 2013 and 2014 respectively. The seventh omnibus of Vinland Saga also includes two exclusives: the continuation of “Ask Yukimura,” where Yukimura responds to questions about the series, and a four-panel tribute comic by Faith Erin Hicks, another creator whose work I greatly admire.

After years of hard labor, Thorfinn’s freedom was near at hand until he and his fellow slave Einar became involved in an escape attempt. They helped Arnheid, Ketil’s favorite slave and mistress, aid her enslaved husband as he tried to run away from another farm. The attempt failed, resulting in multiple deaths. Now the three of them—Thorfinn, Einar, and Arnheid—must face the terrible consequences of their actions. Meanwhile, Ketil and his sons are returning from Jelling with King Canute and his finest warriors following close behind. In addition to dealing with his slaves, Ketil must also prepare for Canute’s inevitable attack before the farm falls into chaos. Canute plans on taking Ketil’s farm and wealth for his own in order to expand his kingdom, determined to create a paradise on earth for all who suffer from war and violence. Although he would prefer a peaceful resolution, Canute is more than prepared to stake his claim through questionable political maneuvering and force.

Like so many of the other omnibuses of Vinland Saga, the seventh is brutal and at times even gruesome. The artistic detail and research that Yukimura has applied to the portrayal of the day-to-day lives of eleventh-century nobility, warriors, merchants, and slaves has also been applied to the battles and wars they wage. Men and women are beaten to the brink or point of death; limbs are severed; skulls are crushed; eyes are gouged out—Vinland Saga is an intense and violent series. But that violence isn’t idealized or glorified by Yukimura. Even while an individual’s martial skill and battle prowess are respected and admired, violence is shown to be the truly terrible and destructive force that it is, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. Some of the most important themes in Vinland Saga revolve around violence, how it impacts people and society, and whether it can be avoided or whether humanity is trapped in a never-ending cycle of bloodshed.

In addition to the plot of Vinland Saga as a whole, violence and its effects are also crucial to the development of the individual characters. Many of them are trying to break free from the violence that pervades their lives, facing moral quandaries over how to enact their ideals. The characters of Vinland Saga aren’t safely philosophizing over what is ethical, they are literally risking their lives for what they believe in. But even when their ultimate goals are the same, they approach them differently. Canute is now in a position of power as king and will use any method necessary to ultimately achieve his earthly paradise. Thorfinn, on the other hand, is reluctant to use violent force in order to gain peace. And there are plenty of other characters in the series who fall somewhere between these two perspectives. Seeing the realistic interplay among all of these different worldviews in the series has been immensely engrossing. Vinland Saga is well-worth reading even in part, but I sincerely hope to see the rest of the series translated as well.

Junji Ito’s Cat Diary: Yon & Mu

November 6, 2015 by Ash Brown

Creator: Junji Ito
U.S. publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9781632361974
Released: October 2015
Original release: 2009

Junji Ito’s Cat Diary: Yon & Mu was one of the manga releases I was most looking forward to in 2015. Junji Ito is primarily known for horror manga–his Uzumaki is one of my personal favorites in the genre–but in 2008 he had the opportunity to serialize an autobiographically-inspired manga based on his experiences living in a house with two cats. The result was Junji Ito’s Cat Diary, ultimately collected in a single, slim volume and published in Japan in 2009. The English-language edition of the manga released by Kodansha Comics in 2015 also includes the contributions made by Ito and his wife (Ayako Ishiguro) to the 2011 Tohoku Earthquake relief anthology Teach Me, Michael! A Textbook in Support of Feline Disaster Victims. I thoroughly enjoy Ito’s brand of unusual horror and I, too, happen to have the privilege of feline companionship, so I was very interested in Junji Ito’s Cat Diary. I expected it to be a manga that I would enjoy and I wasn’t disappointed; I absolutely loved it.

J-kun is the proud owner of a new house in pristine condition from floor to ceiling and he’s looking forward to living there with his soon-to-be wife A-ko. What he didn’t initially realize was that by inviting her to live with him he would also become host to two more guests: Yon and Mu. J-kun is convinced that Yon, one of A-ko’s family’s cats, is cursed. He’s a strange-looking feline with skull-like markings that would seem to confirm J-kun’s suspicions. Mu, on the other hand, is an adorable kitten with a pedigree and cute enough to melt even J-kun’s dog-loving heart. And so begins J-kun’s trials and tribulations as a keeper of cats, slowly falling under their spell as he grieves the loss of his perfectly-kept house. He warms up to both Yon and Mu, but they don’t quite exhibit the same amount of warmth in return, more often than not preferring A-ko’s company. But J-kun is determined–one day he, too, will enjoy Yon and Mu’s love and affection.

Junji Ito’s Cat Diary is immensely entertaining. Ito has kept his signature style used when drawing horror manga and has applied it to a collection of stories that are closer to being gag manga. The illustrations can be intentionally grotesque and creepy, with an emphasis on J-kun’s exaggerated expressions as he reacts (and overreacts) to the events occurring in his household and the horrors of pet ownership. A-ko, too, is drawn in such a way that her disconcerting appearance adds to the atmosphere of horror in the manga. For the most part, the cats are simply cats (at least when J-kun isn’t hallucinating from lack of sleep); it’s the humans who come across as maniacal. Junji Ito’s Cat Diary looks like it should be a horror manga and has all of the genre’s visual stylings, but it really isn’t. The humor is even funnier because of this deliberate disconnect between the actual stories being told and how they are being portrayed.

As someone who tends to enjoy Ito’s work and as someone who tends to like cat comics, I was already in a position to particularly appreciate Junji Ito’s Cat Diary. It may certainly not work for everyone, though–the manga is a weird mix of horror and comedy, the grotesque and the adorable–but I loved it. In general, the stories in Junji Ito’s Cat Diary are less about Yon and Mu’s antics and more about J-kun’s reactions to their behavior and his changing relationships with the two cats. Yon and Mu are actually very normal as cats go; the humans in the manga are the ones who come across as eccentric and a bit odd. Junji Ito’s Cat Diary is hilarious but at the same time the manga maintains and oddly disconcerting and even ominous atmosphere. Ito simply excels at taking the mundane and transforming it into something truly devious and bizarre. I’m not sure, but perhaps I should be concerned by how much I can identify with the stories found in Junji Ito’s Cat Diary.

Vinland Saga, Vol. 6

October 30, 2015 by Ash Brown

Creator: Makoto Yukimura
U.S. publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9781612628035
Released: September 2015
Original release: 2012
Awards: Japan Media Arts Award, Kodansha Manga Award

After some delay, the sixth omnibus of Makoto Yukimura’s magnificent historical manga series Vinland Saga was finally released in 2015, nearly a year after the previous installment. It was a year in which I waited anxiously—Vinland Saga is one of my favorite manga series currently being published in English and I hope that it does well enough that Kodansha Comics can continue to released the manga. (Currently, English-reading audiences are only guaranteed to see one more omnibus, but even if the translation ends there the series is well-worth reading.) The sixth Vinland Saga omnibus collects the eleventh and twelfth volumes of the original Japanese edition, both of which were released in 2012, the same year the series won a Kodansha Manga Award. The series has also earned Yukimura a Japan Media Arts Award. As was the case with the last few omnibuses, sixth also includes a question and answer section exclusive to the English-language edition in which Yukimura discusses the series.

As the result of the Danish invasion of England in the eleventh century, Canute has successfully taken control of the county. He must still find a way to maintain that control, though. He is no longer the weak young man he once was, having grown into a powerful and cunning king who will do anything necessary to establish his ideal society. In order to gain his current position Canute had to arrange for the death of his father. Now he is turning his ambition towards Denmark and his older brother, hoping to secure rulership there as well. Meanwhile, Thorfinn, a young man from Iceland and a former mercenary who was once Canute’s bodyguard, lives his life in slavery. However, after working diligently for years clearing forested land for his master, his freedom is tantalizingly close. Thorfinn, too, wants to one day shape a world free from war and violence, but his current circumstances make such hopes little more than dreams. But as the political turmoil in Denmark increases it becomes difficult to foretell anyone’s fate, whether they be slave or king.

I continue to be immensely impressed by the depth of storytelling and the character growth and development found in Vinland Saga. Particularly striking is the nearly complete reversal in Thorfinn and Canute’s respective outlooks on life. Thorfinn, who was once a fearsome warrior dealing in death and destruction, wants nothing more than peace and a way to somehow atone for everything that he has done. Canute, on the other hand, originally abhorred violence but now willingly employs it, considering it to be a necessary evil for the sake of creating a prosperous kingdom and protecting its people. I also find it fascinating that as both Canute and Thorfinn continue to mature and make their way in the world they are each beginning to follow in the footsteps of and even embody the ideals held by their respective fathers, for better or for worse. Canute has learned to successfully use his power politically and strategically as a leader while Thorfinn now fully understands how destructive such power can be.

Violence and the dynamics of power are major themes in Vinland Saga. In particular, the series explores what it means to turn away from violence and if it is even possible for someone to do that with the world and human nature being what they are. Yukimura has so far done an excellent job showing how a violent society affects the people living within it and how difficult it is for them to change that culture when it is held as an ideal. Vinland Saga incorporates many exciting and engaging fight scenes and battles which, like the rest of the manga, are dramatic and well-drawn. However, that violence hasn’t been glorified by Yukimura. Instead, a large focus has been put on the tragic consequences that result from those encounters. The action can be brutal and shockingly gruesome, but perhaps even more important is the tremendous psychological impact on the characters as violence perpetuates more violence in a seemingly endless cycle. Vinland Saga remains an exceptional series; I’m looking forward to reading more of the manga a great deal.

Maria the Virgin Witch: Exhibition

September 18, 2015 by Ash Brown

Creator: Masayuki Ishikawa
U.S. publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9781632361905
Released: August 2015
Original release: 2015

I rather enjoyed Masayuki Ishikawa’s short, three-volume manga series Maria the Virgin Witch. Although it was a bit uneven in places, possibly because the series ended sooner than was initially planned (granted, that is my own speculation rather than something that I know for a fact), I liked the series’ quirky characters, historical fantasy, and peculiar mix of humor and more serious philosophical and theological musings. Because Maria the Virgin Witch wrapped up so quickly and left many questions unanswered, I was happy to learn that Maria the Virgin Witch: Exhibition had also been licensed for an English-language release. Originally published in Japan in 2015, Exhibition is a collection of sides stories, a mix of prequels and sequels to the main series. Kodansha Comics released the English-language edition in 2015 as well. It is a relatively slim volume, but I was looking forward to spending a little more time with Maria the Virgin Witch and its characters.

Each of the short manga in Exhibition focuses on a different character of Maria the Virgin Witch: Viv, Maria, Joseph, and Ezekiel. Viv’s story is the only multi-chapter manga in the volume. It follows the English witch from when she first arrived on France’s shores, traveling on a ship filled with soldiers and other witches sent to reinforce England’ armies in the Hundred Years War. This is long before she befriends Maria, but Viv’s enthusiastic and reckless approach to battle, in addition to wreaking havoc, becomes a source of inspiration for Maria’s own efforts. The next story is just as much about Maria’s familiars as it is about Maria herself, taking place during the main series and showing a typical day away from the battlefield after Ezekiel joins their small group. Josephs’ story, like Viv’s, is a prequel to Maria the Virgin Witch, recounting Joseph and Maria’s first adorably awkward meeting as he seeks her aid for France’s war efforts. The volume ends with a story about Ezekiel, not as an angel, but as the human child of Maria and Joseph, providing a nice epilogue for the series as a whole.

The stories in Exhibition are obviously intended for readers who are already familiar with Maria the Virgin Witch and who have already read the entire series. Although the short manga in Exhibition aren’t necessarily directly connected to the main narrative of Maria the Virgin Witch, by their very nature there are some spoilers involved and the collection relies on the reader having previous knowledge of the series’ characters. Exhibition is less devoted to expanding the world and plot of Maria the Virgin Witch and more focused on further developing the manga’s characters and their personal stories. And by telling the stories of the individual characters in Exhibition, more about Maria herself is revealed. Even when she isn’t immediately involved or present, Maria plays an important role in all of the short manga. Exhibition shows many of her different sides: Maria the friend, Maria the master, Maria the lover, Maria the mother, and so on.

Whereas the main Maria the Virgin Witch series had a rather serious story that was accompanied and punctuated with humor, overall Exhibition consistently tends to be much more lighthearted and comedic in nature. It’s a fun collection for fans of the series even if the stories are generally fairly inconsequential. None of the hard questions raised by the main series or the lingering plot threads are really addressed. Maria’s lineage and backstory still remain obscure. (If anything, I’m left wondering even more about her origins and who she really is.) Not much in the way of additional worldbulding is present in the volume either. Instead, Exhibition offers readers the opportunity to enjoy a collection of stories that are charming, funny, and even a little touching as they celebrate the characters of Maria the Virgin Witch. And because the characters are such a large part of what makes Maria the Virgin Witch so appealing, Exhibition is a perfect send-off for the series.

The Science of Attack on Titan

August 19, 2015 by Ash Brown

Author: Rikao Yanagita
Illustrator: Maru Fujishima
Translator: Ko Ransom
U.S. publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9781632361851
Released: June 2015
Original release: 2014

Hajime Isayama’s ongoing manga series Attack on Titan has become a worldwide phenomenon, spawning multiple spinoff manga series, anime, live-action films, games, and other media and merchandise. The franchise has been such a resounding success that Kodansha Comics, the manga’s English-language publisher, has even broken its rule of not releasing anything that isn’t manga. The first exception was the Attack on Titan Guidebook: Inside & Outside. More recently, in 2015, Kodansha published Rikao Yanagita’s The Science of Attack on Titan as translated by Ko Ransom (who also happens to the translator for the guidebook and the Attack on Titan: Before the Fall novels, among other things.) Since I’m fascinated by Attack on Titan and its immense popularity, I was particularly glad to have the chance to read a review copy of The Science of Attack on Titan. The volume was originally published in Japan in 2014 and is the first work by Yanagita to have been released in English. Credited as the Senior Researcher of the Sci-F/Fantasy Science Research Institute, Yanagita is a fairly prolific writer who has authored other “The Science of” books as well.

The Science of Attack on Titan is divided into four main sections. The first and longest, “Surprising Titan Fundamentals,” focuses on the Titans, specifically investigating their strengths and weaknesses. Once Titans have been established as the fearsome creatures that they are, in the next section Yanagita asks and answers the question “What Should I Do If Titans Attack?!” Appropriately, this is followed by “Anti-Titan Measures: How Effective Are They Really?,” a section exploring in-series technologies such as the vertical maneuvering equipment. (Also included: an entire chapter devoted to the awesomeness of Levi.) The final section, “Simple Questions about Attack on Titan,” is a sort of catchall for remaining topics that didn’t really fit into the previously established categories. There are also shorter one-page investigations called “Lingering Fantasy Science Questions” scattered throughout the volume. Accompanying the text are relevant panels and pages taken from the Attack on Titan manga as well as additional illustrations by Maru Fujishima that can be quite humorous.

Although the readers who will probably be the most interested in or at least the most likely to pick up The Science of Attack on Titan are those who are already familiar with Attack on Titan as a whole, it is only fair to give the warning that the volume does include spoilers for the franchise. Most are fairly minor, but there are a few major twists that are discussed as well. The Science of Attack on Titan is based on the original Attack on Titan series up through the thirteenth volume in addition to the first volume of the Attack on Titan: No Regrets spinoff manga, the Before the Fall prequel novels, and the Attack on Titan Guidebook. Unless readers are trying to avoid spoilers at all costs, they shouldn’t be too daunted by Yanagita’s thoroughness; only a basic knowledge of Attack on Titan, and its characters and setting is required to enjoy and understand The Science of Attack on Titan. There is no need to be well-versed in all aspects of the franchise in order to follow the book. The Science of Attack on Titan is approachable and friendly for novices in science, too.

The Science of Attack on Titan may be inspired by Attack on Titan, but for the most part Yanagita spends more time discussing real-world physics, chemistry, biology, history, technology, and such than he does Attack on Titan itself. The franchise simply provides an excuse or jumping off point to explore interesting scientific concepts and how they might or might not apply to the series. Unsurprisingly, Yanagita’s analysis shows that many aspects of Attack on Titan could be nothing but fantasy, but it’s very exciting when it appears that something from the series could actually work. The Science of Attack on Titan is written to be both entertaining and engaging, though how funny it is will depend on an individual’s personal sense of humor. While Yanagita address serious science, he recognizes that Attack on Titan is a fictional work and that subjecting it to such critical scrutiny can be inherently funny. As a result, his approach in The Science of Attack on Titan is informal and comedic, but also informative. Ultimately, the volume’s greatest value is probably in encouraging those who are interested in Attack on Titan to discover just how cool real science can be. Even I learned a few things that I didn’t previously know.

Thank you to Kodansha for providing a copy of The Science of Attack on Titan for review.

Maria the Virgin Witch, Vol. 3

August 9, 2015 by Ash Brown

Creator: Masayuki Ishikawa
U.S. publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9781632360823
Released: June 2015
Original release: 2013

Maria the Virgin Witch is a three-volume manga series (four volumes if counting the sequel Exhibition) created by Masayuki Ishikawa. It was actually because the series was by Ishikawa, who is also the creator of Moyasimon (which I enjoy), that it first came to my attention. The first volume of Maria the Virgin Witch intrigued me, and the second ends with the heroine in a rather dire-looking situation, so I was very curious to see how the story would continue to play out in the third. Happily, Kodansha Comics was kind enough to send a review copy along to me. Maria the Virgin Witch, Volume 3 was originally published in Japan in 2013. Kodansha’s English-language edition of the volume was released in 2015. Despite being a short series, the narrative of Maria the Virgin Witch has the tendency to be a little unfocused, but I still find the manga to be consistently engaging. I especially appreciate the quirkiness of the series in general as well as the quirkiness of its characters specifically.

Maria had been warned by the Archangel Michael: If the young witch continued to interfere with the natural order of the world she would be struck down. However, so devoted to ending the long-lasting war between France and England, Maria continued to flaunt her powers, even while in the presence of Michael’s messenger Ezekiel. Now the time has come for her to face the consequences of her actions. She was, however, somehow able to survive what was intended to be a fatal blow from Michael’s spear. But she’s still vulnerable and must rely on the protection of her two owl familiars and the kindness of her fellow witches who don’t necessarily approve of her efforts to force a peace. Maria was at one point alone in the world—the Heavens, other witches, and even some of the humans she was trying to save all standing against her—but over time her earnestness and innocence has earned her some friends, a few of whom could have at one time been counted among her enemies. But even with their support Maria is beginning to lose her naiveté, realizing that bringing happiness to humanity may be more complicated than she initially considered.

Maria the Virgin Witch has always been a peculiar mix of quirky humor and more serious philosophical and theological reflection. There are a lot of ideas that Ishikawa was able to work into such a short series, although at the same time it’s difficult to thoroughly explore all of them in only three volumes. (It actually makes me wonder if Maria the Virgin Witch was originally intended to be a longer story.) The third volume brings up questions about Maria’s family and backstory without really answering them. Also, apparently many if not all witches are loners, something that wasn’t clearly established until now. Maria’s close friendship with the English witch Viv develops suddenly, and their discussions about the true meaning of happiness and love come across as a little forced. It was as if Ishikawa needed to rush in order to make sure that the heart of the series was addressed and made absolutely clear, paring down the seemingly extraneous elements introduced earlier in the manga.

Although overall the narrative of Maria the Virgin With is somewhat uneven, in the end I did largely enjoy the series and I would like to read Exhibition as well. Since the very beginning of the manga, I’ve been particularly fond of Maria herself. While she and the other witches feel more contemporary in thought and appearance than the rest of the series’ setting, I do appreciated her struggle to come to terms with not only her own position in the world, but also the role of the higher powers of Heaven. It’s a debate that humankind has been wrestling with for ages and is one more link between the manga’s historical backdrop and the present day. Ishikawa explores the answer to this timeless question through Maria’s growth as a character. She begins as a young, determined woman seeking to right the wrongs of the world, becoming wiser and more mature as she is confronted with the often brutal realities of life. But importantly, Maria never loses her ideals or succumbs to despair, which is why so many people come to love her so dearly.

Thank you to Kodansha for providing a copy of Maria the Virgin Witch, Volume 3 for review.

Your Lie in April, Vol. 2

August 7, 2015 by Ash Brown

Creator: Naoshi Arakawa
U.S. publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9781632361721
Released: June 2015
Original release: 2012
Awards: Kodansha Manga Award

Your Lie in April is an eleven-volume manga series created by Naoshi Arakawa that began serialization in Japan in 2011. The manga is one of Arakawa’s earliest professional works. Even so, Your Lie in April would go on to win a Kodansha Manga Award in 2013 and in 2014 the series’ anime adaptation debuted. Although I haven’t actually seen it yet, it was the anime that first brought Your Lie in April to my attention. As a lover of both manga and music (in addition to being a musician myself), the basic premise of Your Lie in April appealed to me a great deal. I was glad that Kodansha Comics licensed the series since I’m always excited to see more music manga released in English. I largely enjoyed the first volume of Your Lie in April and so was happy to receive a review copy of the second as well. Your Lie in April, Volume 2 was originally published in Japan in 2012 while the English translation was released in 2015.

Kosei hasn’t played the piano publicly for years, having tried to give it up after the death of his mother and a disastrous performance in competition. He has become so psychologically distraught that he literally can no longer his own music; the sound seems to disappear when he begins to seriously play. Very few people actually know why Kosei no longer performs or competes, and his closest friends continue to encourage him to play despite his reluctance. Somehow Kaori manages to bully him into serving as her accompanist in the second round of her violin competition at the last minute. She’s a passionate and headstrong musician who other pianists find difficult work with, sometimes even refusing to accompany her. But Kaori wants to be remembered by her audiences and she is convinced that Kosei, who was once well-known as a child prodigy, can help her do that. Except that he’s never been an accompanist before, they’ve never practiced together, and he hasn’t even had the change to study the score.

Though Your Lie in April can be somewhat melodramatic at times, I appreciate that Arakawa is leveraging the psychological states of the series’ characters in order to further the story. Kosei being thrust into the spotlight and once again experiencing the thrill of performance doesn’t simply make everything all right or solve his problems. If anything, it actually makes matters more complicated. He continues to be torn between wanting to play and never wanting to touch the piano again. Hovering over Kosei is the shadow of his dead mother, an abusive woman who demanded perfection from him and his playing. But she was also the person who first taught him to love music. By the end of her life she had become cruel, but Your Lie in April, Volume 2 reveals that before she became ill she was much kinder and gentler person. It doesn’t excuse how she eventually treated her son, though it does help to explain in part why Kosei remained and continues to be devoted to her throughout the pain and suffering that was inflicted upon him.

What little is known about Kosei’s mother so far in Your Lie in April provides an interesting counterpoint to what little is known about Kaori. They are both musicians, they both are partly responsible for drawing Kosei into the world of music and, as the second volume of the series shows, they both struggle with physical illness. However, whereas Kosei’s mother became cruel, Kaori’s illness has caused her to devote herself to her music, striving to leave a lasting impression on those around her. No matter what happens in the future, Kosei’s relationship with Kaori, like the one with his mother, will be a formative one. He, at least, will never be able to forget her. She is an inspiration dragging him out of his personal darkness. This is something that is visually reinforced in the manga as well. Kaori is almost always shown in the light, sometimes she even seems to be the source of light, while Kosei is frequently seen in shadow, especially when he is playing. But Kaori is challenging and changing him. The time may come when Kosei will be able to freely stand in the light, too.

Thank you to Kodansha for providing a copy of Your Lie in April, Volume 2 for review.

Maria the Virgin Witch, Vol. 2

June 5, 2015 by Ash Brown

Creator: Masayuki Ishikawa
U.S. publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9781632360816
Released: April 2015
Original release: 2011

I was somewhat wary when I picked up Masayuki Ishikawa’s manga series Maria the Virgin Witch to read. I wasn’t really sure what to expect from it, especially considering part of the story is explicitly focused on the heroine’s virginity and sexuality. No that that is necessarily a bad thing, it just has the potential to go very wrong, very quickly. But because the series is by Ishikawa, whose Moyasimon I enjoy immensely, in the end I decided to give Maria the Virgin Witch a try. (At some point, I’ll likely take the time to watch the manga’s recent anime adaptation as well.) Although there were a few things that bothered me about the series’ first volume, by and large I was intrigued and enjoyed the manga, certainly more so than I had initially anticipated that I would. I liked the basic premise of the manga, particularly the quirky characters, and so I wanted to see what Ishikawa would do with the rest of the series. Maria the Virgin Witch, Volume 2 was first released in Japan in 2011. The English-language edition of the volume was published by Kodansha Comics in 2015.

Having drawn too much attention to herself by dramatically interfering with the affairs and wars of humankind, the young, idealistic witch Maria has been given an ultimatum by the Archangel Michael. Maria as been forbidden to display her powerful magic in front of humans or else forfeit her life. Additionally, should she ever lose her virginity she will lose her powers as a witch, putting her in a position where she must either choose her own happiness or the happiness of others. Since Michael has better things to do than spend all his time watching over a rogue witch, he leaves his messenger Ezekiel behind to ensure that Maria follows the rules. Whether Ezekiel is actually successful is another matter entirely. Maria still feels very strongly about aiding those who ask for her help and bringing an end to the war between England and France. With some assistance from her familiars Artemis and Priapus, she is able to take advantage of a few loopholes in Ezekiel’s charge, but it’s likely only a matter of time before Michael puts a stop to that, too.

Maria the Virgin Witch continues to be a strange combination of crude humor largely revolving around sex (or the lack thereof) and more serious philosophical and theological questioning. The introduction of Ezekiel allows Ishikawa to more fully explore Maria’s motivations and her view of the world and all that she believe is wrong with it. If God and his angels won’t step in to put an end to humanity’s wars and violence—even when people are praying for just that—Maria sees it as her responsibility to fulfill that role since it is within her power, albeit in a much more limited fashion. She acknowledges that she is no god; she is not omnipotent, neither is she omniscient. She can only do what she can. The second volume of Maria the Virgin Witch reveals that Maria is very much an outlier in her way of thinking. Other people and other witches who have the ability to influence the course of the war actually want to drag it out as long as possible. To do so is to their advantage. They believe the position held by Maria to be incomprehensible and incredibly naive. But some, including Ezekiel, find that their assumptions and beliefs are challenged by Maria’s idealism and earnestness and are forced to reexamine them.

Although the series is set during the Hundred Years War and references actual events and people, the second volume of Maria the Virgin Witch makes it very clear that the manga is less historical fiction and more fantasy fiction. While interesting, the worldbuilding of the series is actually a little confused, or at least not thoroughly explained. Magic has always been a large part of Maria the Virgin Witch, as have demons, monsters, angels, and other divine beings (including Valkyries for some reason), but the second volume introduces a mythical and mortal non-human race to the mix. There’s nothing inherently wrong with this, but it seems to come out of nowhere and means that the manga loses some if its focus, which is something that is particularly important for a short series like Maria the Virgin Witch to maintain. With only one volume in the main series remaining, I’m afraid that Ishikawa may not be able to fully develop all of the elements and themes that he is trying to incorporate. Even so, I still find Maria the Virgin Witch to be an intriguing although somewhat uneven series; I’m very curious to see how it ends.

Your Lie in April, Vol. 1

April 10, 2015 by Ash Brown

Creator: Naoshi Arakawa
U.S. publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9781632361714
Released: April 2015
Original release: 2011
Awards: Kodansha Manga Award

Your Lie in April is the first and so far only manga series by Naoshi Arakawa to have been released in English. Arakawa is still fairly early on in his career—Your Lie in April was only his third major work—but the series earned him a Kodansha Manga Award in 2013 for Best Shōnen Manga. The first volume of the eleven-book series was originally published in Japan in 2011. In English, the manga was released by Kodansha Comics in 2015. The entirety of Your Lie in April was adapted into an anime series between 2014 and 2015, which is how I first learned about the manga. My interest in the series primarily stems from the prominent role that music has to play in the manga. Music is something that is incredibly important to me and continues to be a major part of my life. Probably unsurprisingly, I tend to enjoy music manga. And so, I was particularly happy to receive an early copy of Your Lie in April from Kodansha for review.

Kosei Arima was a child prodigy, admired for his skill and success as a pianist, winning competition after competition. But ever since his mother died and he had a breakdown in the middle of a performance on stage when he was eleven, he hasn’t been able to play the piano. Not for others and not even for himself. Piano was such an integral part of Kosei’s life that he seems to be somewhat lost without it and he hasn’t been able to completely let music go. Several years have passed since then, leaving Kosei a rather withdrawn and gloomy young man. But then he meets Kaori Miyazono, an extremely passionate violinist who attends the same middle school that he does. Kaori plays the way that she wants to play, disregarding traditional interpretations and technique to make the music her own. Though he is still reluctant and hesitant, watching Kaori’s enthusiastic, free-spirited performances has reignited something within Kosei and she and his friends are determined to see him play once again.

A particular challenge faced by music manga like Your Lie in April is expressing sound in a visual medium. It takes more than simply throwing notes on the page to effectively convey the feeling of music in a comic. For the most part, Arakawa handles this aspect of the series quite well. The music itself isn’t heard, but the expressions and reactions of the listeners and musicians, the impact created by the music, can readily be seen. Perhaps the best example of this in Your Lie in April, Volume 1 is Kaori’s performance during a violin competition. The violinists before her are poised and fairly reserved in their playing, but Kaori uses her entire body to emote and express the music. This and the stunned faces of the audience members make it very clear that her invigorated style is drastically different and unexpected. But while music is obviously an important part of Your Lie in April, the real focus of both the artwork and the storytelling is on people’s experiences of that music.

Kosei’s relationship with music, and specifically with playing the piano, is a complicated one. He is struggling with intense psychological distress and it is revealed very early on in Your Lie in April that his mother physically, and very likely emotionally, abused him as well, trying to force her own dreams onto her son. Whether he is aware of it or not, Kosei’s feelings towards music and the piano are very much tied up with his feelings towards his mother. Underneath a relatively calm exterior is a turmoil of conflicting emotions that includes both love and hatred and even some fear. Deep down, Koesi does still seem to have the desire to continue playing the piano, though he denies it to himself and to others. It’s something that he will have to face head-on eventually, but Kaori’s influence threatens to make it something that he will have to deal with sooner rather than later, perhaps even before he’s really ready. I am very curious to see how Your Lie in April continues to develop and the steps Kosei may take to overcome his trauma.

Thank you to Kodansha for providing a copy of Your Lie in April, Volume 1 for review.

Maria the Virgin Witch, Vol. 1

April 8, 2015 by Ash Brown

Creator: Masayuki Ishikawa
U.S. publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9781632360809
Released: February 2015
Original release: 2010

I’ll admit, when I first heard about the manga series Maria the Virgin Witch, I was more than a little skeptical. I’m not particularly interested in witches, which seem to be nearly as common as vampires in translated manga these days, and the emphasis placed on the heroine’s virginity seemed like it could be a little suspect. But then I realized that Maria the Virgin Witch was by Masayuki Ishikawa, the creator of Moyasimon, a quirky manga about microbes and fermentation that I enjoyed immensely. (Sadly, only two volumes of Moyasimon were ever released in English.) If for no other reason, I wanted to give Maria the Virgin Witch a chance because of my love for Moyasimon. I’m very glad that I did; the first volume turned out to be a very promising and intriguing start to the short series. Maria the Virgin Witch, Volume 1 was initially published in Japan in 2010 while the English-language edition was released by Kodansha Comics in 2015.

During the first half of the fifteenth century, England and France were still locked in the Hundred Years War, many of the battles being waged on French soil. Maria is a powerful but young witch living in France. She abhors the killing and senseless violence and so does what she can to disrupt the conflict and protect the villages and people who live near her woods. She has discovered one particularly effective method: by sending an owl familiar in the form of a succubus among the leaders of the armies on the eve of major battles, they often lose their will to fight or their interest in the impending confrontation. However, sometimes more direct action is required and Maria will summon great beasts to wreak havoc and chaos on the battlefield. But causing such a spectacle carries with it the danger of drawing the attention of Heaven and the risk of incurring the wrath of the Archangel Michael. There is a proper order to the world, and Maria poses a threat to it.

Maria’s outlook on life (as well as her and her familiars’ character designs) does tend to be more contemporary than the rest of the manga’s setting, but I really like her as a character. She has strong convictions, and she is prepared to act on them, doing what she can to right the injustices she sees in the world. Michael and others criticize her for her interference and audacity; Maria is very forthright with her feelings and opinions. She is young, and perhaps a little naive, but I admire her earnestness. Despite her anger and frustration, she has yet to become embittered by the world. Maria honestly and wholeheartedly cares about people, especially those who are powerless or taken advantage of. Though some of her methods might not be considered to be particularly respectable by most, she and the people she protects believe her to be a force for good. Even so, Maria is considered to be a heretic by the Catholic Church, an institution for which she quite obviously holds no love.

Although Maria the Virgin Witch explores some fairly serious subjects—religion, morality, power dynamics, sexuality—the manga also includes a good deal of humor. Much of the comedy has to do with sex in one way or another, but some of it simply relies of the quirkiness of the characters. Maria, for example, is old enough to be curious about sex, but is still completely embarrassed at even the mere thought of seeing a man naked. As a result Priapus, the incubus she creates, is rather indistinct where it counts and is generally just put in charge of cooking and running errands. The first volume of Maria the Virgin Witch can be a bit crass at times (personally, I could have done without the repeated “cry for me like a little whore”-type comments), but overall the manga is a surprisingly layered work. The more I think about it, the more it grows on me, and the more I want to read the rest of the series. So far, Maria the Virgin Witch is a very interesting mix of historical fiction and fantasy that can be both entertaining and sobering.