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La Quinta Camera

Bookshelf Briefs 7/10/11

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This week, Kate, MJ, David, and Michelle are joined by new battle robot member Sean, as they check out new a host of releases from VIZ Media, Yen Press, and Seven Seas, as well as a few final stragglers from recently defunct TOKYOPOP.

Ai Ore!, Vol. 2 | By Mayu Shinjo | VIZ Media – I share David Welsh’s general disdain for romances in which one character tries to persuade the other that it’s “just a matter of time” before they get together, so it’s not a surprise that I found the second volume of Ai Ore! as punishing an ordeal as the first. Author Mayu Shinjo’s greatest misstep is confusing possessive behavior with manliness; Akira unironically calls Mizuki his “woman” so many times I’d swear he’s auditioning to play Stanley Kowalski. Adding insult to injury is Akira’s obsession with getting Mizuki into bed — no matter how many times she refuses him, Akira keeps hounding her to go all the way. Normally in a story this absurd, any nod to realism would be welcome, but here it’s an unpleasant reminder of just how retrograde the story’s sexual politics really are, and no amount of wacky hijinks or cool costumes can conceal that fact. – Katherine Dacey

Ai Ore!, Vol. 2 | By Mayu Shinjo | VIZ Media – Not long after I criticized its first volume, I spotted a conversation in which it was explained that Ai Ore! is intended as a parody. While I generally think that if you have to tell people that something is a parody, it’s not really working, reading through the series’ second volume I can see where that argument is coming from. Unfortunately, making fun of something doesn’t automatically translate into being smarter or better than it is, and this is where Ai Ore! goes horribly wrong for me. Even as it mocks some of shoujo manga’s sillier trends, it reinforces those that offend me most. Most tragically, however, all this parody and pandering is wrapped around what really could be a genuinely revealing look at the relationship between two teens whose bodies don’t conform to accepted gender norms. I would read this story eagerly. Unfortunately, that’s not the story being told. – MJ

Amnesia Labyrinth, Vol. 2 | By Nagaru Tanigawa and Natsumi Kohane | Seven Seas – I gave a mixed review to Volume 1 of this series, but unfortunately the second volume has lost even the slight amount of goodwill I had for the series. An extended dream sequence about 2/3 through just makes things even more muddled, and by separating Souji from Yukako you end up losing any sympathy you may have had for him in the first place. Evil doppelgangers molesting the heroine do add a frisson of discomfort to the proceedings – as does one sister trying to attack/seduce Souji while in a gas mask and military uniform – but this is an unpleasant mess overall. Fans of Tanigawa should stick with the Haruhi Suzumiya novels. – Sean Gaffney

Daniel X: The Manga, Vol. 2 | Story by James Patterson, Art by SeungHui Kye | Yen Press – The James Patterson book-making machine excels at cranking out dystopian teen fantasies in which seemingly ordinary kids possess tremendous, world-changing powers. Small wonder, then, that Yen Press has had such commercial success translating Patterson’s stories into graphic novels. Daniel X, their second Patterson adaptation, focuses on a fifteen-year-old with the ability to create objects with a thought. After his parents are killed by “an intergalactic criminal” — Yen’s words, not mine — Daniel vows to avenge their deaths, using his unique ability to find and destroy extra-terrestrials. The story and dialogue are thoroughly unsurprising — at least from an adult standpoint — but SeungHui Kye’s clean, attractive artwork, gooey aliens, and briskly-paced script will definitely appeal to younger teen readers. A good buy for a school or public library’s YA collection. – Katherine Dacey

Happy Cafe, Vol. 8 | By Kou Matsuzuki | Tokyopop – This is, of course, the final volume of Happy Cafe we’re getting in North America, even though the series ran for a further seven volumes in Japan. Another victim of the Tokyopop closure. It’s a type of manga I’ll miss from Hakusensha, the sort they only seemed to sell to TP and CMX. The plot isn’t that original, the characters are types, and there are far too many of them – here we meet a shy girl with a crush on a boy who has a crush on Uru, as well as Ichiro’s identical twin father – but it’s meat-and-potatoes shoujo that leaves you with a smile on your face and a warm heart. I’ll miss this sort of series. – Sean Gaffney

Ichiroh!, Vol. 5 | By Mikage | Yen Press – I stopped reading newspaper comics a long time ago, and reading the fifth volume of Ichiroh reminds me why I did: the four-panel strip is seldom conducive to good writing. There are plenty of exceptions — Neko Ramen, Peanuts — but more often than not, the format yields tepid jokes, recycled gags, and one-note characters whose personality traits annoy more than they endear. Although Ichiroh! has a more promising set-up than most, focusing on a group of slackers trying to clean up their act and get into college, it’s about as funny as Tank McNamara. Most of the humor depends on the audience’s investment in the characters; if you find Nanako and company cute, their squabbles might bring a smile to your face, but if you don’t, Ichiroh! will grate with the intensity of a Debbie Gibson song, as characters repeat the same behaviors with Sisyphean consistency. – Katherine Dacey

Kekkaishi 3-in-1, Vol. 2 | By Yellow Tanabe | VIZ Media – I’m very glad that Viz is providing an inexpensive entry point for this long-running title. Volumes four through six build a supernatural subculture for the demon-fighting heroes of the series, which yields some entertaining supporting characters, giving the stories additional variety. Chief among Tanabe’s many strengths as a creator is the fact that she has an excellent way with battle sequences. They never run too long, she comes up with great creature designs, the use of her heroes’ powers is imaginative, and the scenes are sprinkled with character-driven humor. You could hardly ask for anything more from battle shônen. The only weakness to this volume is that tough, level-headed Tokine doesn’t get quite as much focus as I’d like. She’s such a great partner for and foil to protagonist Yoshimori that it seems like a waste not to have her in the thick of things. – David Welsh

La Quinta Camera | By Natsume Ono | VIZ Media – The gifted Ono’s professional debut looks like not simple and reads like Gente, which is fine by me. A quartet of men shares an apartment in Italy, and we meet their friends, lovers, and boarders who move in and out of the apartment’s extra room. It’s good-natured slice of life, and I’ve always enjoyed Ono’s work in that category. (I actually enjoy Ono’s work in all categories, so I may not be the most unbiased judge of relative success.) What particularly strikes me about this work is the level of confidence that’s already in evidence. Ono reveals a lot by implication, making the characters’ moods and reactions evident without minute explications of their sources. It’s like the reader is observing their lives without the benefit of an omniscient narrator. You may not know everything there is to know, but you get everything you need to know. – David Welsh

Maid Shokun, Vol. 1 | By Akira Kiduki and Nanki Satou | TOKYOPOP – If you had told me a few weeks ago that I would enjoy a seinen series about pretty young women working in a maid café so much that I would seriously consider buying the rest of the series in Japanese just to see what happens, I would never have believed it. But it’s true! Maid Shokun charms by treating its characters not as objects for fanservice but as employees concerned with the success of their enterprise. Here, the café is a job, not merely an environment where wacky hijinks ensue, and plots revolve around issues like standards of service, interoffice dating, overzealous customers, and whether the establishment should be reclassified as adult entertainment and what that would mean. I’m genuinely bummed that more won’t be available in English, thanks to TOKYOPOP’s untimely demise. – Michelle Smith

Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan, Vol. 3 | By Hiroshi Shiibashi | VIZ Media – So, remember how in Nura‘s first chapter, protagonist Rikuo (¾ human boy, ¼ yokai) transformed into his yokai self, dealt competently with a rival who challenged his right to inherit leadership of the Nura yokai consortium, and then declared his intent to become Nura’s supreme commander? Well, all of that stuff happens again in volume three. It’s about time—ever since the plot was reset in chapter two (presumably due to the story getting picked up for serialization) it’s been working its way back to this point. I hope Rikuo’s resolution sticks this time and the story can progress, but for now I’m content with the fun cast of supporting characters, the added complication of Rikuo’s friend Kana crushing on his yokai form, and the fact that human Rikuo has started showing some gumption. – Michelle Smith

Pandora Hearts, Vol. 6 | By Jun Mochizuki | Yen Press – Though this volume begins on a serious note, it soon degenerates into utter goofiness as our heroes infiltrate a prestigious high school in order to reintroduce Oz to his younger sister, Ada. Even amidst complete silliness, however, this story finds its way back to the real horror at its core. Pandora Hearts is long on style but not short on substance, and that’s part of what makes it such a great read. That said, this volume’s blushing moe faces (both male and female) become a bit repetitive, and I could do without seeing Oz’s uncle Oscar in a high school uniform ever again. Fortunately, Mochizuki never leaves Dark Creepyville for long, and the volume’s two new characters show a lot of promise. Bring on the drama and gore, Pandora Hearts! – MJ

Bookshelf Briefs 6/20/11

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This week, David, Kate, & Michelle take a look at a handful of titles from Vertical, Viz Media, and Digital Manga Publishing.

 

 

Black Jack, Vol. 14 | By Osamu Tezuka | Vertical — This volume of Tezuka’s medical melodrama classic run right down the middle in term of quality. It’s solidly entertaining throughout, and there are very few clunky moments, but there aren’t as many knock-it-out-of-the-park episodes as you might find in the best installments of the series. Since there’s no real cause for complaint overall, I’ll focus on my favorite piece, “A Rapid Current.” For my money, the best Black Jack stories throw our antihero out of his comfort zone and force him to set aside his hard-case persona. In “Current,” the good-bad doctor is stuck on a rapids-battered raft with an unflappable lady in an advanced state of pregnancy. The story is surprising, suspenseful, funny, and mournful, and it’s a perfect reminder of why it’s always worthwhile to pay a visit to this corner of Tezuka’s universe. –David Welsh

Grand Guignol Orchestra, Vol. 3 | By Kaori Yuki | Viz Media — With each new volume, this series comes closer to becoming the kind of glittering, gruesome guilty pleasure I hoped it would be. Yuki’s tale of traveling musicians who fight zombies is far from perfect, and Yuki is prone to some serious narrative gobbledygook, but the fun, creepy bits are gaining ground. This installment features vicious nuns, decadent nobles, shocking betrayal, cross-dressing espionage, and just enough grotesque perversion to keep things lively. I’ve always found Yuki’s manga visually beautiful, but I’ve also often found it incomprehensible. Moment-to-moment plotting still isn’t her strongest suit, but this is easily her best effort that I’ve sampled. I may even come to care about the characters beyond gawping at their violent high jinks. Even the sidebar notes – particularly the one where Yuki wishes good riddance on a villainous character she hated drawing – are entertaining. –David Welsh

Higurashi When They Cry: Demon Exposing Arc | By Ryukishi07 and En Kito | Yen Press – So far, the only portions of the Higurashi manga I’ve read have been peripheral to the main storyline, but each has convinced me that I will have to remedy that soon. This two-in-one omnibus collects the entirety of the Demon Exposing Arc, which depicts the insanity that befalls former Hinamizawa residents after said village is destroyed by a gas explosion. Normal teen Natsumi witnesses the madness firsthand and lives a bizarre double life wherein the boy she likes is confessing his feelings to her one moment, and her Hinamizawa-born grandma is drowning puppies in the bathtub the next. Soon her mother is exhibiting symptoms, leaving Natsumi with nowhere to turn. If the appeal of Higurashi is innocent-looking girls spattered with blood, then this creepy side story definitely lives up to the original. -Michelle Smith

La Quinta Camera | By Natsume Ono | VIZ Media – This collection of short, interconnected vignettes was Natsume Ono’s professional debut. Like Gente and Ristorante Paradiso, La Quinta Camera is set in Italy, and explores the lives of five people who share a common space — in this case, a five-room apartment inhabited by a handful of eccentric bachelors and a young Danish exchange student named Charlotte. As in Ono’s other Italian works, not much happens; characters plan parties, discuss the merits of living abroad, and occasionally share painful memories. The biggest difference between Camera and Ristorante Paradiso is craft: not only do the characters look flatter and squatter than the elegant gents of Casetta dell’Orso, but the writing is also not as polished, relying heavily on coincidence and sudden, emotional outbursts to advance the narrative. Despite its limitations, Camera still charms, offering a pleasant, if aimless, look at life in urban Italy. -Katherine Dacey

Moon and Blood, Vol. 1 | By Nao Yazawa | Digital Manga Publishing – There’s hardly anything to this short little volume from Nao Yazawa, better known here as the creator of the magical girl series Wedding Peach. It’s almost as if Yazawa is writing with a shoujo manga checklist in hand and marking off the clichés as she goes. Dense heroine, check. Mysterious boy, check. Jealous and excitable childhood friend, check. Situation in which boy—who is brilliant, athletic, and a great cook—is the son of a family friend and will now be living with the heroine and attending her school, check. There’s a small amount of supernatural intrigue—apparently the boy is a vampire and his cat-like sire is feeding off the heroine’s family—but it’s not enough to spark any genuine interest in this decidedly lackluster title. -Michelle Smith

Off the Shelf: Good Reads & Oddities

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MICHELLE: I just ate an uncooked tortilla full of cheese.

MJ: I am eating bread stuffed with pepperoni.

MICHELLE: Assuming yours was actually cooked, I deem you the more sophisticated snacker. Shall we stop talking food and start talking manga?

MJ: Sure! I had a great week in manga, actually, with new volumes from two of my favorite creators arriving at my doorstep. It began with volume six of Ooku, Fumi Yoshinaga’s historical manga set in an alternate version of feudal Japan in which the male population has been nearly wiped out, leaving women to step into traditionally male roles.

This series has been fascinating from the start, and I’ve written quite a bit about it, especially in terms of the way it portrays a gender-reversed society that is essentially still patriarchal. This is still fascinating, but what really struck me in particular as I was reading this volume is just how much it reads like true history. Everything about this volume evokes a feeling of authenticity so strong, if I didn’t know anything about the history of Japan, I would absolutely believe it was non-fiction. That might not sound like a compliment, considering the quality of writing in a lot of non-fiction, but I absolutely mean it as such.

Every detail here, even the odd speech and awkward cadence, feels authentic. This is enhanced greatly by the strong sense, in this volume particularly, that everything here is far in the past, imbuing the story with an aura of inevitability I can’t quite describe. These events are fact, immutable and accepted by generations of people before us. That’s how the story feels.

The series gets pretty unsavory in places, and this volume is no exception there, but one experiences it with the same acceptance as one must when reading history. Even the ugliest moments are irrevocably part of the story’s time and place.

This may seem like a pretty simplistic observation, but really, it hadn’t hit me so strongly before this point. It honestly felt like a revelation of a sort.

MICHELLE: I wonder if that viewpoint will help me get past the hurdle of volume two. “Fictional cat, fictional cat,” I’ve been trying to tell myself. Maybe my mantra should be “Fictional cat a long, long time ago” instead.

MJ: Perhaps even “Real cat from a long time ago whose memory stays alive through poignant depiction of its fate.”

MICHELLE: That may be pushing it a bit.

MJ: Well then, moving on, what have you read this week? You know, that doesn’t involve an untimely feline death?

MICHELLE: Some interesting stuff, actually! As you might be aware, I’ve had some difficulty in pinpointing how I feel about Julietta Suzuki’s Kamisama Kiss. Each volume has been more or less enjoyable, yet I’ve remained disappointed.

I’m happy to report that the third volume has hopefully changed that. This has less to do with any alterations on Suzuki’s part, however, and more with one I made myself: I stopped waiting to be impressed. Because I liked Suzuki’s Karakuri Odette so much, I was waiting for her to transcend that series with this new one, and it just wasn’t happening. By volume three, this impulse had largely subsided and I was able to simply enjoy the series for what it is: an episodic supernatural sitcom.

Volumes two and three have established a pattern: Nanami goes to school and encounters some new supernatural hottie from whom Tomoe, her slightly grumpy but actually kind shinshi (familiar), must protect and/or rescue her. Volume three’s interloper is Mizuki, a shinshi whose master has disappeared due to lack of worshippers. He takes the form of a white snake, and when he randomly shows up at Nanami’s school in this guise, she prevents other students from harming him. He repays this favor by leaving a mark on her that means they are now engaged.

It’s gratifying to see Tomoe spurred to action on Nanami’s behalf, even as he tries to tell himself it’s only on account of his shinshi dignity, and they are both awakening to their feelings more swiftly than I’d expected. None of this is really new territory—the description “Black Bird Lite” would not be far off—but as long as one stops expecting some sort of innovation, it’s actually a pretty nice story.

MJ: Now, one of the things I liked about the first volume of this series, is that it didn’t contain any of the blatant misogyny so characteristic of Black Bird. Given that you’ve described it as a “Lite” version of that series, what should I expect? Has this changed?

MICHELLE: Oh, no, it hasn’t. I just meant you’ve got a heroine whom supernatural fellows seem to desire—though this is usually on account of her kami powers or her shrine and not because boffing her will convey some benefit—and who has yet another supernatural bishounen to protect her. Tomoe isn’t condescending towards Nanami, in fact he’s beginning to acknowledge her good qualities, and though she’s grateful for his help, it’s not in a creepy “you validate me” sort of way. I guess it’s more or less the premise that’s similar, but the character dynamics are much more tolerable in Kamisama Kiss.

MJ: Makes me want to pick up volumes two and three so I can catch up!

MICHELLE: You should! So, what else did you read this week?

MJ: Well, I also received a copy of Natsume Ono’s La Quinta Camera , due out next month. As you know, I’m a big fan of the author, so I snatched this up to read just as soon as it arrived.

La Quinta Camera (The Fifth Bedroom) peeks into the world of a five-bedroom apartment in Italy, which is occupied by four middle-aged men and a stream of disparate foreign students who temporarily occupy the apartment’s fifth room. The story begins with Charlotte, a Danish student who comes to Italy to study the language, and whose tumultuous entry into the country takes a turn for the better upon her arrival at the apartment. At first, it seems like this will be her story, but by the beginning of the second chapter, Charlotte is already moving out, and suddenly it’s obvious that the real story revolves around the apartment’s constants, rather than its revolving fifth room.

This is early Ono, and there’s no denying it. After reading later series like Ristorante Paradiso and House of Five Leaves, it’s a bit jarring to return to the simpler, less refined art style that characterized not simple. What really shows off this story’s youth, however, is its narrative shakiness. Even slice-of-life manga like this benefits from a strong thread to hold it together, and there’s not all that much here to do the trick.

That said, what is here is brilliant in its own way. Ono’s talent for quiet characterization truly shines, though perhaps even that is overshadowed by her gift for nuance, especially when it comes to human relationships. Though most of the manga’s few threads of story feel woefully underdeveloped, Ono’s characters really live here, and there’s a sense that their lives continue offscreen even as we read. Particularly compelling is the personal journey of Massimo, the apartment’s owner, whose attachment to his roommates becomes tearfully apparent by the end.

Is this my favorite of Ono’s works? No, it’s not. But it’s still Ono, and that’s worth a lot.

MICHELLE: It almost sounds like a dress rehearsal for Ristorante Paradiso, with the young woman coming to Italy to have her lives enriched by a bunch of older men. And even if it’s not Ono’s best, it’s always interesting to read an early work of such a unique creator and chart how she has grown over the years.

MJ: Yes, it really is wonderful to be given the opportunity to trace the evolution of her work like this. I’m so pleased Viz has been releasing so much of her work!

So, what do you bring to us as our last selection for the evening?

MICHELLE: A bit of an odd duck, I’m afraid. I’m talking about the sixth volume of Raiders, published by Yen Press, which has the distinction of being the only manhwa I’ve read that is distinctly geared for a male audience.

Raiders is set in England, and follows a young man named Irel Clark as he first discovers then drinks from a bottle containing the blood of Jesus, which renders him immortal. Also searching for this magical beverage is Lamia, a zombie hoping for a cure, and they eventually team up, with Irel serving as her food supply. By the sixth volume, Irel and Lamia have parted ways and are independently learning some shocking truths about Christianity.

There is so much that’s wrong with Raiders. The story is convoluted and difficult to follow. The same could be said of the action scenes, and the art in general is just too bright/white. It makes me wish the book came with a knob so I could adjust the picture. The breakneck pace makes each volume a breeze to read, but there’s not enough time for plot developments to sink in, and there are still characters whose names I don’t know.

Even with all of these issues, though, I don’t actually dislike Raiders. Though one is bounced between scenes without always understanding how they relate, the scenes are usually interesting enough in their own right, and gradually a picture is beginning to emerge of what the series actually is: a very cynical take on Christianity and religion as a whole. If more people were aware of Raiders, I could imagine it causing a stir with quotes like “Religious zealots are no different than gambling addicts. They are obsessed lunatics.” In the world of Raiders, Christianity is most decidedly a myth, and one created with megalomaniacal aims in mind. Irel, with his newfound immortality, presents a challenge to the man responsible, which could lead to all manner of intriguing developments.

While I can’t really recommend Raiders, therefore, I intend to keep reading it.

MJ: Actually, the whole religion-is-lunacy theme you’re describing here makes me feel suddenly interested in the series.

MICHELLE: I had a feeling it might. There’s a sci-fi angle to it as well, which really doesn’t make any sense at this point (and might never), but that theme is certainly what made me really sit up and take notice.

MJ: You know, I’d become a little jaded about zombie comics, but I think I have to give this one a look, finally.

MICHELLE: Yeah, it’s less about humans having to fend off zombie hordes than it is about zombies being bummed out about their unlives.

MJ: Something we can all relate to. Heh.

MICHELLE: Yeah, though I thankfully haven’t had the experience of my leg failing to reattach itself on account of being sliced by the special sword wielded by an albino vampire.

MJ: You haven’t? Geez, Michelle, you’re so sheltered.

MICHELLE: I should get out more.

MJ: Indeed.