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Archives for December 2010

License Request Day: Cooking Papa

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One of the many important things I’ve learned from the entertainment industry is that Christmas is the time of year to make unreasonable demands of higher powers that they are obligated to fulfill if they want people to keep believing in them. We’ve basically got them in a corner, so why not go for the big ask? Why not say, “Hey, someone should throw caution and logic to the wind and publish a 100-plus-volume cooking manga”?

While working on this week’s letter of the Seinen Alphabet, I ran across a mangaka named Tochi Ueyama, who basically only has one title to his credit. This isn’t due to laziness, as he’s been working on it since 1984. 112 volumes have been published to date. It’s called Cooking Papa, and it runs in Kodansha’s Morning.

As near as I can tell, it’s about an average family where the father, a white-collar worker, does the cooking. (The mother, a journalist, isn’t very good at it.) Papa helps their son learn his way around the kitchen. Every chapter includes recipes.

Now, I can hear all the “buts” to the point that they sound like an outboard motor. But it’s way too long! But cooking manga doesn’t have a great commercial track record! But we should pester Viz to publish more Oishinbo instead! But Kodansha isn’t taking that many risks yet!

All of those things are true. But if we all adopt our best Cindy Lou Who miens, perhaps manga’s heart will grow several sizes. It’s Christmas. We’re entitled to expect miracles. TV said so.

What are some of your Christmas Miracle license requests?

Ooku Volume 5

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Ooku Volume 5 by Fumi Yoshinaga

I like this series, but I am feeling a little impatient about all the flashbacks establishing the world of Yoshinaga’s gender-flipped Edo period. When the first couple volumes introduced Yoshitsune, we saw a female shogun who was pragmatic, practical and horrified by the excess of court life. Yoshinaga shows how the court gradually grows more excessive and corrupt, as well as the desperation of the previous shogun to conceive a child. Even though Japan now functions as a matriarchal society, it isn’t necessarily any better with women in charge. The scarce men are valued only for their sperm, and the Shogun’s harem of men is a demonstration of of her wealth.

The fifth volume details the rise to power of Emonnsuke, as he manipulates the other men around him in the Inner Chambers. He has special palaces designed for the Shogun’s chosen men, ostensibly to honor them but they serve to keep her support system at a distance. The Shogun’s close female confident the Baron of Dewa confronts Emonnsuke, and while both acknowledge each other’s power nothing much gets changed. It is hilarious when Emonnsuke starts calling for salt to purify himself after talking with the Baron, thinking to himself “Is she the love-child of a demon and a human, perhaps!?” When the shogun’s daughter and heir Matsu dies the pressure on her to produce a new heir is immense, and the resulting antics in the Inner Chamber grow more and more corrupt. While some of the non-chosen men in the Inner Chamber view it as a respite from their previous duties servicing women for money to support their families, the Shogun is forced to sleep with a succession of lovers and isn’t allowed to fully mourn the child she lost. She’s lost in despair when she confesses to Emmonnsuke, “I’ll tell thee what a shogun is — ’tis a base sordid woman, lower by far than those men who sell themselves in the cheapest bawdy houses.”

There’s a huge contrast between the rituals of the Ooku and the inner lives of of the people who are caught in its rituals. The Shogun starts making foolish laws. A shocking act of violence is committed by one of the last Samurai families controlled by men, and the Shogun’s reaction is to create a new law placing even more power in the hands of women. There’s a glimmer of something new towards the end of the volume, as the Shogun meets her young relative O-Nobu. O-Nobu’s freedom in speaking exactly what’s on her mind and her confession that since she’s not pretty she doesn’t value pretty men delight the elderly Shogun. O-Nobu will grow up to become the Shogun Yoshitsune, and I’m hoping that the next volume will tell more of her story. The strength of Ooku is the world building and the careful and measured way Yoshinaga presents the rituals and history of the Inner Chamber. But at the end of this volume, I have the feeling that most of this story is just prologue, leading to the possibility of Yoshitsune doing something to change the static matriarchal society of Yoshinaga’s alternate history.

Review copy provided by the publisher

3 Things Thursday: Manga for Christmas

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So, I know I put a lot of new, awesome manga in my gift guide this year, but when it comes to my own Christmas list, I admit I bulked it up with oldies. There are a few older shoujo series in particular that I’ve been collecting over time, and it looks like this Christmas, I just might complete my collections! At least one I’ve read all the way through already, and all I’ve read to a point, with the help of libraries, friends, and (in one case) scanlations, as some volumes have rapidly fallen out of print and are difficult to purchase without paying hundreds of dollars to some unscrupulous Amazon or Ebay seller.

Out-of-print shoujo is one of my deepest woes, and since the more we talk about these dwindling series, the more likely Viz is to consider omnibus treatment (or so we hope and dream), I’ll dedicate today’s 3 Things to three shoujo series I’m hoping to own in completion after this Christmas!

I’m Gettin’ Manga For Christmas

1. Basara, vols. 24-27 | Yumi Tamura | Viz Media – Oh, how long I’ve been collecting this series! Perhaps my greatest regret as a latecomer to manga is that I wasn’t aware when this series was originally being published of what it was, or how sad I’d one day be when its middle volumes started going out of print after I became a fan. Fortunately, most of the trickiest ones I’ve already picked up, including the legendary volume 20, which goes for $125+ online, but which I happened to stumble upon at a convention two years ago for 20% off the original retail price. My quest for this series has seemed endless, but with just four volumes left, I’m counting on Santa to pick up the slack. You wouldn’t let me down, Santa, right? RIGHT? And by “Santa” I mean “my in-laws.” :D

My post-Christmas marathon reads will be epic.

2. Please Save My Earth, vols. 11, 12, 15, & 18 | Saki Hiwatari | Viz Media – Back when I was a manga n00b, I read this series scanlated in its entirety, with no concept of how difficult its volumes would be to find once I started trying to buy them up myself. I’ve been cobbling together my collection since late 2007, buying new when possible, but also snatching up some of the harder-to-buy volumes as trades or used books when I could find them. Having recently acquired the elusive volume 7, I have just a few, scattered volumes to pick up before I can re-read that series, which I shall do with relish as soon as my collection is complete.

This series is a special pet of mine, because it’s one that I desperately want to recommend, but with a major stumbling block. “This is the greatest series ever. You’ll have to pay upwards of $25 (plus shipping) just to read the first volume, and after that, well… But seriously, it is the greatest ever!”

3. X/1999, vols. 8, 9, 16-18 | CLAMP | Viz Media – I’ve slacked off on collecting this series, partly because I’m a bigger fan of Tokyo Babylon (which I own in its entirety and have reread several times), and partly because it’s unfinished anyway, but I realize my assessment of it is hardly fair, since I’ve never read past volume 7. My collection’s holes begin there, and I’ve never been able to move forward. I thought it was time I persevered, so I put my missing volumes near the top of the list this year.

My greatest difficulty with X/1999 of course, as a fan of Tokyo Babylon, is that it’s painful for me to watch what’s become of my beloved Subaru in the aftermath of that series. It’s also a bit painful to know that the story is not about him, when he’s the one who’s already got all my loyalty and interest. Can I overcome my issues and join the ranks of other CLAMP fans, who laugh at my TB obsession in the face of their obvious superiority? Thanks to Santa, we may soon find out!

So, that’s what I’m hoping to score this holiday season. How about you?

December news round-up

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‘Tis the season for press releases, or so it would seem from the looks of my inbox these days. Here’s a quick round-up of some of the news that’s come our way over the month of December.

First, Kodansha Comics finally let us in on their plans for Del Rey’s licensed series as well as announcing a few new titles for release in English. Their full list of upcoming titles can be found at their website.

“Japan Unlocked,” an NHK TV talkshow about translations of Japanese literature, manga and anime is available for live streaming at the NHK website, according to representative Ann Tomoko Yamamoto in a recent e-mail. Ann is on “a mini-mission to get the word out about the TV show amongst people with a passion for the TV show’s core theme, namely the cross-cultural journey that creative works make when they are translated from Japanese to English.” A show featuring the work of Edo-period poet Ema Saito airs today. More details available at the Japan Unlocked website.

Square Enix has officially launched their new digital manga store. According to a recent press release, ” the initial lineup in the United States will be four titles, including Fullmetal Alchemist and Soul Eater, available at the special sale price of $5.99 for a limited time. The first update is scheduled for January 11, 2011. New titles will be added bi-monthly after January.” From what I’ve seen from other bloggers since this news broke, I’m not the only one who thinks that $5.99 is too steep for manga that can only be read online, but should the price ever drop to something more reasonable, it would be a great way for new readers to catch up on great series like Fullmetal Alchemist. Registration required.

In other digital news, comiXology has just released its app (featuring comics from 40 publishers) for the Android platform. Users can check out the Android Market to pick up their copy of the free app. As an Android owner myself, I’ve already downloaded mine!

And Digital Manga is releasing the Vampire Hunter D series on the Barnes & Noble Nook and Nook Color, with each volume split into two parts at $3.99 each. Vampire Hunter D vol.1 is also available through B&N’s NOOK Apps for the iPad, iPhone, Andrioid, and for PC.

Viz Media has been adding new titles to its iPad app, including shoujo favorites Vampire Night, Otomen, Ouran High School Host Club, and shounen staple Rurouni Kenshin, all available for download by volume for $4.99 each. Viz also announces a number of print and online enhancements to their Shonen Jump magazine for 2011. Check out the Shonen Jump website for more information.

From Yen Press, Svetlana Chmakova’s new project, an adaptation of James Patterson’s Witch & Wizard, debuts in the latest online issue of Yen Plus, available (with their other currently serialized titles) for subscription here.

And finally, fans of the Gantz manga will have a one-night-only chance to catch the live-action World Premiere on the big screen, thanks to NCM Fathom and NEW PEOPLE. The event happens on Thursday, January 20 at theaters all over the country. Head over to the Fathom Events website to find participating theaters near you.

*Whew* that’s the news for the month! Happy Holidays, manga fans!

Pretty maids all in a row

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I saw a story on the BBC about these all-girl pop groups that are cropping up in Japan under the sponsorship of just about everyone, from corporations to vegetable growers associations to urban redevelopment committees. And it reminded me of the truth that, when you put four or more attractive people in a row and give them some common purpose, your chances of achieving your aims improve at least slightly, depending on how appealing those four or more young people are.

They can come together by inspiration or design, it really doesn’t matter all that much. Origins in inspiration are obviously more highly regarded than manufacture, but, one or the other, people can still develop attachments to even the most cynically constructed assemblages. If they look good standing in a row, if their types connect in comforting ways, you’re in good shape.

The tale of local-produce promotional singing sensations mentioned above also reminded me of the truth that success replicates, even if you’ll never quite capture the lightning in a bottle that inspired the original. Entire comics companies have been born out of a desire to replicate the grim and gritty success of Wolverine. Intriguing notions become franchises, for better or worse.

In the case of the cast of Kiyohiko Azuma’s Azumanga Daioh (Yen Press), they are the best they are at what they do, and what they do is be funny and cute, particularly funny. Azuma’s ensemble seems to have inspired a host of imitators, temperamentally balanced groups of girls with their weapons set on “charm.” That they will almost certainly never rank any higher than second place, given that it’s unlikely that Azumanga Daioh will ever drop from first, isn’t reason for them not to exist. People didn’t stop writing plays about crazy, southern drunks after Tennessee Williams or musicals about neurotic people after Stephen Sondheim.

Of course, not all of these imitations fully justify their existence. I thought the four cute girl students of Ume Aoki’s Sunshine Sketch (Yen) were totally forgettable, like adorable collectibles rather than proper characters, in spite of their promising art-school setting. The music-club girls of Kakifly’s K-On (Yen) are just better enough that I can see myself spending a few volumes with them.

Yes, there’s the serious one, the loud one, the dingbat, and the rich girl. Yes, there’s the obnoxious teacher who should probably find another career. Yes, they go to the beach and wear kimonos and maid costumes. They basically go through all of the Stations of the Cross. But I enjoyed their company, and I got a reasonable number of chuckles out of their delivery of admittedly familiar situations. I can even abstractly appreciate the thoroughness with which Kakifly has abetted the audience’s wish fulfillment – there isn’t even the silhouette of a male character to present competition.

But, at the same time, I’m not the author’s ideal reader, either. I didn’t read the magazine, then collect the paperbacks, then watch the anime, then download the soundtrack of the anime, then buy the DVDs, then collect the figurines, play the video game, and track down the sexy fan comics, all while discussing with my friends which character I’d ideally like to marry, judging them for their choices. If that sounds like I’m judging the franchise for being cynically commercial, I’m not. Kakifly and company took a successful formula, turned it into something likable, and built a mini empire out of that. It’s better than building an empire based on something awful, right?

BL Bookrack: December

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Welcome to 2010’s final installment of BL Bookrack, a monthly feature co-written with Soliloquy in Blue‘s Michelle Smith.

This month, we take a look at four one-shots from Digital Manga Publishing’s Juné imprint, Intriguing Secrets, The Object of My Affection, A Place in the Sun, and Temperature Rising.

Intriguing Secrets | By Rize Shinba | Published by Juné | Rated YA (16+) | Buy at Akadot – After an accidental collision with a teacher in the hallway, high school student Mizue is sentenced to weed the school’s overgrown yard alongside his classmate Umehara, known to be the “class clown.” Umehara’s also been the center of some ugly classroom gossip, so Mizue is surprised to discover that he’s actually a pretty nice guy. He’s even more surprised to find himself drawn to Umehara in a vaguely romantic way, something of which he becomes immediately ashamed. When Umehara seeks him out in the art club room and asks him to paint his portrait, Mizue begins to wonder if his new friend might feel the same way, but every potential advance by Umehara is followed by a joke. Could Umehara’s teasing be a cover for something more?

Admittedly, it would be difficult to think of a more generic BL premise than the one just described. But if the worst that can be said about Intriguing Secret is that it’s unremarkable, that’s also its greatest strength. With its quietly mundane atmosphere, this manga promises love in the most ordinary places. Even its leads are an example of this message. Sure, Mizue seems to have some artistic talent, and Umehara is able to charm his classmates with a joke, but the two are so resoundingly noncommittal to who they are as people, it’s difficult to know what, if anything, they actually value. Mizue is reluctant to even say that he “likes” painting, while Umehara shrugs off everyone with a nearly audible “whatever.” Yet somehow, over the course of the series, they learn to be certain of each other, at the very least.

Though it may seem like I’m not making much of a point in the series’ favor, this practiced indifference is what actually makes the story work. With so little to build itself around, really nothing exists here but the romance itself, and this romance is undeniably sweet, from start to finish. Rize Shinba’s artwork is nearly as nondescript as her characters’ ambitions, yet, like everything else in this story, there is a quiet sweetness about it that holds everything together, as long as nobody’s trying to dig too deep.

Like a gauzy fabric on a warm summer day, Intriguing Secrets is comfortable and pretty, if not quite substantive.

-Review by MJ

The Object of My Affection | By Nanao Okuda | Published by Juné | Rated YA (16+) | Buy at Akadot – Sometimes it’s not such a bad idea to judge a book by its cover. I knew nothing about The Object of My Affection or its creator, Nanao Okuda, but found the art style so appealing that I had to check it out. I’m very glad I did, because Okuda spurns typical yaoi characterizations, instead creating some sympathetic and emotionally accessible characters.

Back in high school, shrimpy Hiroki Wakamiya was dazzled by the athleticism of Wataru Anzai, a player on a rival school’s basketball team. He promised to catch up to him, and by the time college rolls around, he has improved (and grown) enough that he is recruited by the school Anzai plays for. His hopes of competing directly against his hero are dashed, however, when it’s revealed that Anzai has a busted knee and can no longer play.

Wakamiya is disappointed, but still finds himself drawn to Anzai, especially for his “inner strength contrary to the image given by his slender physical frame.” Anzai doesn’t like to show his vulnerability to anyone, but finds himself able to trust the honest and forthright Wakamiya. Though confessions of love are a little abrupt, their relationship unfolds at a believable pace, with Anzai taking on the role of encouraging coach as Wakamiya competes for a starting position on the team. I love that Okuda is much more concerned with depicting what these guys mean to each other than what they do in the bedroom.

Unfortunately, only the first four stories in this volume are about Wakamiya and Anzai. The rest focus on other players on the team and, though all are good and feature a head-over-heels seme in love with a guy who is elusive in some way, they lack the feeling of mutual need that makes the featured couple so compelling. Still, I enjoyed this title enough that a copy of Okuda’s only other English release—Honey/Chocolate—is now on its way to my front door.

-Review by Michelle Smith

A Place in the Sun | By Lala Takemiya | Published by Juné | Rated YA (16+) | Buy at Akadot – “The things we could do if only we had more freedom,” muses Shu Tonosawa, one of the lead characters in the title story of A Place in the Sun, a collection of quirky tales by Lala Takemiya. Although Tonosawa is the only character to state this aloud, it’s actually a theme Takemiya plays with in several of the stories.

“Topping Boys” features a pair of long-time friends now in culinary school together. Yusuke, the more serious and talented of the two, compares his friend Hirosue to pasta, because he’s compatible with just about anything. To him, Hirosue’s seemingly endless string of short-term relationships is due to his propensity to fall in love too easily. In fact, the only person Hirosue really loves is Yusuke, but because he thinks all relationships are doomed to end, he’s not willing to destroy what they have.

“Afraid to Love” takes a similar approach, with one guy unwilling to admit his feelings to his friend because he’s afraid boredom will ultimately result. “A Place in the Sun” isn’t as overt with the characters’ emotions, but one definitely gets the sense that Tonosawa would be happy simply to bask in the radiance of his bright and cheerful coworker Midori, glad to be able to support him in all his endeavors without ever introducing romance into the equation.

While such a book might be disappointing for hardcore BL fans, I personally love stories that don’t turn out how one expects. When three of five stories in a collection don’t end with the couple getting together, and yet are still clearly love stories, I’m pretty impressed. I’m guess I’m just a sucker for the bittersweet.

I’m also a sucker for the awesomely random, so the fact that “Dustbin Space,” the longest story in the collection, features a romance between a guy who fails to sort his trash properly and an irascible garbageman is just icing on the cake!

-Review by Michelle Smith

Temperature Rising | By Souya Himawari | Published by Juné | Rated Mature (18+) | Buy at Akadot – Teens Minori and Mizumo have grown up together, ever since Mizumo’s irresponsible parents left most of their children in the care of Minori’s family. Unwilling to take money from his caretakers, Mizumo has struggled to support himself and his siblings since he was in the fifth grade. When, in high school, Minori finally discovers that Mizumo’s primary income has been coming from compensated sex with older men, he offers to pay Mizumo for the service himself, in order to keep him out of strangers’ beds. But when Minori eventually realizes he’s fallen in love with Mizumo, he isn’t sure how to handle the new lack of balance in their relationship.

What a profoundly mixed bag this manga is. To a great extent, everything about it is horrifyingly wrong. A fifth grade boy is caught stealing and subsequently blackmailed into sex by the college student who catches him. Though the experience is (in his words), “gross and scary,” the kid lights up afterwards when the college student pays him and decides to make it into a career, since it’s a way to make money that “feels pretty good.” This is the backstory for a decidedly lighthearted romance? Seriously? Add to that a huge cast of characters, including a mass of half-developed siblings (carried over from the less explicit Happiness Recommended) so ultimately unimportant to the story that’s being told, it’s odd that any time was spent inserting them at all, and you end up with something both hopelessly confused and perhaps outright offensive.

Though this manga’s execution leaves much to be desired, what’s not quite clear is what mangaka Souya Himawari’s intentions were for it in the first place, and that’s where she gains herself back some points. There’s a strong scent of ambition here in all the intricately created (yet barely used) supporting characters and even in Mizumo’s presumably damaging background that is undeniably intriguing, despite the lack of follow-through. And for all that’s wanting in this story’s development, the book’s primary romance is actually pretty compelling, thanks to the real sense of history and unspoken familiarity Himawari creates between them, even in the book’s earliest pages. There’s so much untapped potential in these characters she obviously loves, it’s almost painful to watch their story play out as some kind of twisted, schoolboy retelling of “Pretty Woman.” Yet it’s difficult to turn away when there’s so much natural depth to be found.

While it’s impossible not to conclude that Temperature Rising ultimately fails, there’s enough romantic potential and strong characterization to warrant the read. And I’d really love to see the fanfiction.

-Review by MJ

Review copies provided by the publisher.

Osamu Tezuka: A Bibliography for English Speakers

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For the English-language reader interested in learning more about Osamu Tezuka, there’s a growing body of scholarship exploring his life and work. Frederik L. Schodt, who was a personal friend of Tezuka’s, has done more than just about anyone to introduce Tezuka’s manga to Western audiences, writing in an accessible style that eschews academic formality but is nonetheless rigorous and well-researched. Schodt reproduced a chapter from Tezuka’s Phoenix in Manga! Manga! The World of Japanese Comics (1983), paid tribute to Tezuka’s work with an essay in Dreamland Japan: Writings on Modern Manga (1996), and devoted an entire book to one of Tezuka’s best-known characters in The Astro Boy Essays: Osamu Tezuka, Mighty Atom, and the Manga/Anime Revolution (2007). Readers who find Schodt’s approach congenial should also investigate Helen McCarthy’s recent book The Art of Osamu Tezuka: God of Manga (2009); like Schodt, McCarthy is interested in bringing Tezuka’s work to a wider audience of comics fans and moviegoers, rather than subjecting Tezuka’s work to close readings.

Academics, too, have been exploring Tezuka’s work from a variety of perspectives, as numerous articles in The International Journal of Comic Art, The Journal of Popular Culture, and Mechademia attest. Natsu Onoda Power’s God of Comics: Osamu Tezuka and the Creation of Post World-War II Manga (2009) is among the most user-friendly of these recent scholarly tomes; she writes in a clear, unfussy style that provides readers insight into the historical, social, and economic conditions in which Tezuka lived and worked. Readers may also find Philip Brophy’s Tezuka: The Marvel of Manga (2007) a helpful bridge between mainstream and academic discourse about Tezuka. Though Marvel of Manga is as much a museum catalog as a scholarly work, Brophy’s contextual essays do a fine job of introducing the different stages of Tezuka’s career, as well as some of the themes that were central to Tezuka’s work.

A word about this bibliography: it isn’t comprehensive, nor is it intended to be. What I’ve done is compile a list of resources that a journalist, college student, or serious comic fan would find helpful in learning more about Tezuka’s life and work. The list is divided into three sections: the first focuses on articles and books about Tezuka, the second on websites, and the third on Tezuka’s manga in translation. Please feel free to suggest resources I have overlooked; this list is meant to be a living document, updated on a regular basis.

ARTICLES AND BOOKS ABOUT TEZUKA

Arnold, Andrew D. “Born Again.” Rev. of Phoenix, by Osamu Tezuka. Time 17 July 2004. Web. 21 December 2010.

Bird, Lawrence. “States of Emergency: Urban Space and the Robotic Body in the Metropolis Tales.” Mechademia 3 (2008): 127-48. Print.

Brophy, Philip, ed. Tezuka: The Marvel of Manga. Victoria: National Gallery of Victoria, 2007. Print.

Covert, Brian. “Manga, Racism & Tezuka.” Japan Times Weekly 18 April 1992: 1-4. Print.

Eiji, Otsuka. “Disarming Atom: Osamu Tezuka’s Manga at War and Peace.” Trans. Thomas LaMarre. Mechademia 3 (2008): 111-25. Print.

Gravett, Paul. “The Father Storyteller: The Life and Role of Osamu Tezuka, Originator of Story Manga.” Manga: Sixty Years of Japanese Comics. New York: HarperCollins, 2004. 34-47. Print.

Inuhiko,  Yomata. “Stigmata in Tezuka Osamu’s Works.” Trans. Hajime Nakatani. Mechademia 3 (2008): 97-109. Print.

Kuwahara, Yasue. “Japanese Culture and Popular Consciousness: Disney’s The Lion King vs. Tezuka’s Jungle Emperor.” Journal of Popular Culture 31.1 (1997): 37-48. Print.

LaMarre, Thomas. “Speciesism, Part II: Tezuka Osamu and the Multispecies Ideal.” Mechademia 5 (2010): 51-85. Print.

Kinsella, Sharon. Adult Manga: Culture and Power in Contemporary Japanese Society. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 2000. Print.

Ma, Sheng-mei. “Three Views of the Rising Sun, Obliquely: Keiji Nakazawa’s A-bomb, Osamu Tezuka’s Adolf, and Yoshinori Kobayashi’s Apologia.” Mechademia 4 (2009): 183-96. Print.

MacWilliams, Mark Wheeler. “Japanese Comics and Religion: Osamu Tezuka’s Story of the Buddha.” Japan Pop! Inside the World of Japanese Popular Culture. Ed. Timothy J. Craig. New York: M.E. Sharpe, 2000. 109-37. Print.

McCarthy, Helen. The Art of Osamu Tezuka: God of Manga. Foreword by Katsuhiro Otomo. New York: Abrams, 2009. Print.

O’Luanaigh, Cian. “Osamu Tezuka: Father of Manga and Scourge of the Medical Establishment.” The Guardian 21 July 2010. Web. 21 December 2010.

Onoda, Natsu. “Drag Prince in Spotlight: Theatrical Cross-Dressing in Osamu Tezuka’s Early Shojo Manga.” International Journal of Comic Art 4.2 (2002): 124-38. Print.

——— . “Tezuka Osamu and the Star System.” International Journal of Comic Art 5.1 (2003): 161-94. Print.

Palmer, Ada. “‘You, God of Manga, Are Cruel!’: Karma and Suffering in the Universe of Osamu Tezuka.” Manga and Philosophy. Ed. Adam Barkman and Joseph Steiff. Chicago: Open Court, 2010. Print.

Patten, Fred. Watching Anime, Reading Manga: 25 Years of Essays and Reviews. Foreword by Carl Macek. Berkeley, CA: Stone Bridge Press, 2004. Print.

Power, Natsu Onoda. God of Comics: Osamu Tezuka and the Creation of Post-World War II Manga. Jackson, MS: University Press of Mississippi, 2009. Print.

Randall, Bill. “Achieving Godhood in Pen and Ink.” Rev. of Phoenix, by Osamu Tezuka. The Comics Journal 246 (2002): 109-13. Print.

——— . “Behold Japan’s God of Manga: An Introduction to the Work of Osamu Tezuka.” The Comics Journal 5 (2005): 46-57. Print.

Schilling, Mark. “Tezuka, Osamu.” The Encyclopedia of Japanese Pop Culture. Trumbull, CT: Weatherhill, 1997. 263-68. Print.

Schodt, Frederik L. The Astro Boy Essays: Osamu Tezuka, Mighty Atom, and the Manga/Anime Revolution. Berkeley, CA: Stone Bridge Press, 2007. Print.

——— . “A Tribute to the God of Comics.” Dreamland Japan: Writings on Modern Manga. Berkeley, CA: Stone Bridge Press, 1996. 233-74. Print.

Thorn, Matt. “Tezuka’s Modernism.” Introduction. Adolf: The Half-Aryan. By Osamu Tezuka. Trans. Oniki Yoji. San Francisco: Cadence Books, 1997. 7-11. Print.

WEB RESOURCES

Anthropology of Anime and Manga: Site includes a useful overview of Tezuka’s Phoenix saga, with links to English and Japanese resources.

Osamu Tezuka, Father of Manga: Site provides a biography, timeline, and a brief discussion of Tezuka’s influences.

Tezuka in English: Site maintained by American scholar Ada Palmer; provides a comprehensive list of Tezuka’s work in translation, as well as overview of Tezuka’s star system.

TezukaOsamu.net: Official website of Tezuka Productions, Inc. (Link is to English-language content.) Includes summaries of major works, as well as Japanese-language previews of manga such as The Three-Eyed One, Unico, IL, and New Treasure Island.

Wikipedia entry on Osamu Tezuka. See also the Wikipedia entries on Tezuka’s anime and manga, as well as the Wikipedia entry on Tezuka’s star system. The quality of the entries varies considerably; use in conjunction with other sources.

TEZUKA IN TRANSLATION

Adolf. San Francisco: Cadence Books, 1995-97. 5 volumes.
Apollo’s Song. 2nd ed. New York: Vertical, Inc., 2010. 2 volumes.
Astro Boy. Milwaukie, OR: Dark Horse, 2002-04. 23 volumes.
Ayako. New York: Vertical, Inc., 2010.
Black Jack. New York: Vertical, Inc., 2008-10. 12 volumes, ongoing.
The Book of Human Insects. New York: Vertical, Inc., 2011. [N.B. Announced at New York Comic-Con 2010. Also known as Human Metamorphosis.]
Buddha. New York: Vertical, Inc., 2006-07. 8 volumes.
Crime and Punishment. Tokyo: The Japan Times, Inc., 1990.
Dororo. New York: Vertical, Inc., 2008. 3 volumes.
Lost World. Milwaukie, OR: Dark Horse, 2003.
Metropolis. Milwaukie, OR: Dark Horse, 2003.
MW. 2nd ed. New York: Vertical, Inc., 2010. 2 volumes.
Nextworld. Milwaukie, OR: Dark Horse, 2003. 2 volumes.
Ode to Kirihito. 2nd ed. New York: Vertical, Inc., 2010. 2 volumes.
Phoenix. San Francisco: VIZ Media, LLC, 2004-08. 12 volumes.
Princess Knight. Tokyo: Kodansha International, 2001. 6 volumes.
Swallowing the Earth. Gardena, CA: Digital Manga Publishing, 2009.

Tezuka: A Bibliography for English Speakers

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For the English-language reader interested in learning more about Osamu Tezuka, there’s a growing body of scholarship exploring his life and work. Frederik L. Schodt, who was a personal friend of Tezuka’s, has done more than just about anyone to introduce Tezuka’s manga to Western audiences, writing in an accessible style that eschews academic formality but is nonetheless rigorous and well-researched. Schodt reproduced a chapter from Tezuka’s Phoenix in Manga! Manga! The World of Japanese Comics (1983), paid tribute to Tezuka’s work with an essay in Dreamland Japan: Writings on Modern Manga (1996), and devoted an entire book to one of Tezuka’s best-known characters in The Astro Boy Essays: Osamu Tezuka, Mighty Atom, and the Manga/Anime Revolution (2007). Readers who find Schodt’s approach congenial should also investigate Helen McCarthy’s recent book The Art of Osamu Tezuka: God of Manga (2009); like Schodt, McCarthy is interested in bringing Tezuka’s work to a wider audience of comics fans and moviegoers, rather than subjecting Tezuka’s work to close readings.

Academics, too, have been exploring Tezuka’s work from a variety of perspectives, as numerous articles in The International Journal of Comic Art, The Journal of Popular Culture, and Mechademia attest. Natsu Onoda Power’s God of Comics: Osamu Tezuka and the Creation of Post World-War II Manga (2009) is among the most user-friendly of these recent scholarly tomes; she writes in a clear, unfussy style that provides readers insight into the historical, social, and economic conditions in which Tezuka lived and worked. Readers may also find Philip Brophy’s Tezuka: The Marvel of Manga (2007) a helpful bridge between mainstream and academic discourse about Tezuka. Though Marvel of Manga is as much a museum catalog as a scholarly work, Brophy’s contextual essays do a fine job of introducing the different stages of Tezuka’s career, as well as some of the themes that were central to Tezuka’s work.

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Twin Spica Volume 2

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Twin Spica Volume 2 by Kou Yaginuma

I am woefully behind on this series, but I guess that can be a good thing as I can look forward to reading plenty of volumes to get caught up. One of the things I was struck with in this volume is Yaginuma’s economy when packing the story full of emotional beats. He manages to create many genuinely affecting scenes in only a few pages. Twin Spica might be a little sentimental, but the sentiment is earned. Asumi has been admitted to space school and prepares to follow her dream of becoming an astronaut. The second volume starts out with a melancholy note as Asumi has to say goodbye to her spiritual companion Mr. Lion. He runs along her train yelling at her not to cry and to do her best. Asumi promptly gets her skirt stuck in the train door.

When she arrives at space school, she’s reunited with her fellow recruits. They have to face grueling physical training and hard science classes. Even though Asumi is one of the smallest in her class, she’s one of the quickest due to some of the training exercises Mr. Lion has put her through. Asumi’s natural tenacity might not be enough to overcome her being singled out by a teacher who doesn’t approve of her father and her need for an expensive custom flight suit. The flashback episodes in Twin Spica are the most affecting. While the first volume dealt with Asumi’s trauma over losing her mother, the second volume focuses on a friend from Asumi’s childhood who was also affected by the spaceship crash that overshadows Asumi’s current life and dreams. Asumi’s relentless pursuit of friendship and her refusal to give up even when facing rejection will hopefully carry over into a triumph over her issues at space school.

There’s a contrast in Twin Spica between Asumi’s natural innocence and optimism and the cynical approach of many of her teachers at space school. Asumi’s persistence despite her obstacles makes her a heroine you want to root for. While she may be starry-eyed in her quest for space, the administrators at space school aren’t willing to make sacrifices for a promising student that doesn’t fit the exact physical profile for an astronaut. Asumi stands out, and that can be a bad thing as she learns more about her father’s involvement in the crash. This was a good second volume, but I have a feeling that the series really starts to get going in the next couple volumes. I need to get caught up soon!

Pick of the Week: Ooku

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It’s an incredibly rewarding week for fans of Viz’s Signature line, with new volumes of Children of the Sea, Gente, former Pick House of Five Leaves, I’ll Give It My All… Tomorrow, and 20th Century Boys. Vertical has a winning week as well, with new volumes of former Picks Chi’s Sweet Home and Peepo Choo. It’s a week when one can hardly choose a single favorite, and it honestly pains me to do so.

But choose I must, so out of all that wealth, my Pick this week goes to the fifth volume of Fumi Yoshinaga’s Ooku, also from Viz’s Signature imprint.

Here’s a bit of what I had to say about the first three volumes:

In this alternate history of Edo-period Japan, an incurable disease has wiped out much of the nation’s male population, leaving women to take up traditional men’s roles, including that of shogun.

As this series is structured, its first volume begins eighty years after the disease’s initial outbreak, at which point the male population has declined by 75% and women have become firmly fixed in their new roles. The second and third volumes then return to the beginning of the outbreak, which finds the nation in a panic–desperate to maintain male rule, even to the point of delusion, if that is what is required.

This structural choice is, frankly, brilliant. By removing any real question about the outcome of events that occur during the second and third volumes, Yoshinaga allows herself (and the reader) to focus on the process, which really shows her off to her greatest advantage. Though the universe is dense and the language even more so (needlessly, to some extent, thanks to an unfortunate choice in its English adaptation), this arrangement allows for a great deal of slow, masterful character development and an emphasis on human relationships and the psychology of political theory …

As a fan of Fumi Yoshinaga, josei manga, and the Viz Signature imprint, there is no question that a series like this, even just in theory, is a very exciting work. Fortunately, this truth extends beyond the theoretical and into the actual. Ooku is beautiful, engaging, and a very exciting work indeed. It is also challenging and ambitious enough to garner some real respect for josei manga in western fandom at last. And for that, I’m truly grateful.

I have some thoughts about volume four for your perusal as well, and though I haven’t yet written up the fifth volume, I can tell you that I’m only loving this series more and more. Check it out for yourself!

Harlequin Manga Quick Takes – To Marry a Stranger and To Woo a Wife

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To Marry a Stranger by Renee Roszel and Takako Hashimoto

I decided to read this title mainly because the hero of the story has an eye patch. Eye patches are a feature of romantic heroes that seem to be sorely neglected recently, although I think for some reason they were more prevalent in the 80s. Helen wants to know who her destined man is, so she decides to visit the conveniently located Love Mansion, a haunted house that is located near the bed and breakfast she’s opening with her sisters. She runs into the current habitat of the Love Mansion, Damien Lord. He happens to be horribly scarred due to accidents he suffered as a reporter in Afghanistan, but he’s taken up residence in the country to recuperate. Damien is cranky and Helen decides to tame him by feeding him plenty of home-cooked meals. To Marry a Stranger follows the typical Harlequin formula of a woman’s beauty and domestic talents winning over a tortured yet handsome man. It is enlivened by Hashimoto’s art which is relaxed, with a feminine cartoony style. I do believe that more romance heroes need eye patches.

To Woo A Wife by Carol Mortimer and Yoko Hanabusa

This was an entertaining title, simply because Hanabusa’s art has an old fashioned look to it. The characters have long noses and limpid eyes that wouldn’t look out of place in a 1980s manga. When you combine the old school art with a socially maladjusted hero given to making random women hating comments hilarity ensues. Jarrett Hunter is a millionaire bachelor who is trying to buy a hotel from a “Black Widow,” a woman who conveniently married a very elderly rich man who died a couple years into the marriage. Jarrett has managed to avoid the snares of women, because he’s been severely messed up by his mother running out on his father. So when he meets Addie, he assumes that she is a very high-priced hooker, because he thinks she’s visiting a hotel alone. Unfortunately Addie is the widow he’s been sent to woo for the purposes of acquiring her real estate. He has golden eyes! She has violet eyes! Will their bickering lead to love? Will he be charmed by her relationship with her young daughter? Will he relentlessly pursue her? Does he have two unmarried brothers so the author will be able to write a trilogy? The answers to all these questions is of course a resounding yes. Even though there were a few rough spots in the adaptation for this manga, I found it entertaining simply because of Jarrett’s horrible social ineptness, which would have probably caused him to get beaten up if he wasn’t a handsome billionaire.

Access to electronic copies provided by the publisher

Black Gate Volumes 1-3

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Black Gate Volumes 1-3 by Yukiko Sumiyoshi

Usually I love omnibus editions because they give me a good excuse to devour two or more volumes of manga in an afternoon. I found it hard to get excited about Black Gate, an omnibus of a complete 3 volume series that features attractive art that is hampered by a lack of compelling storytelling. In Black Gate, there are light and dark gates that exert a powerful influence on human spirits. When someone is ready to die, they naturally go through a gate into the next world. Black gates are malign forces that try to take human souls too soon. Mitedamashi have the power to seal gates. Senju is a guardian to Hijiri, a rather bratty boy with a powerful mystical heritage. The fate of humankind may hang in the balance as Hijiri finds out the secret of his past, but will he be mature enough to harness his natural power?

One of the more unfortunate aspects of Black Gate is the lack of real character development. Hijiri’s main mode of expression is irresponsible brat, and while he exhibits a little bit of character growth he mostly remains static. Senju is haunted by the death of Hijiri’s parents, but he keeps plugging away at his part-time job (being a gatekeeper pays very little) and raising Hijiri as best he can. I found Senju a more compelling protagonist than Hijiri, so I was disappointed when he abruptly disappears for a long stretch of the book. Senju is replaced in Hijiri’s life by the sudden appearance of the Sugawara cousins, a pair of teen boys who also serve as guardians. Hijiri struggles to become a gate keeper himself and he tries to partner up with with Michizane, the half brother of one of the guardian cousins. The second and third volume become weighted down with a bit of plot mish mash involving a gate keeper serial killer, spirit possession, inadvertent immortality, and a struggle between the human and spirit worlds.

I usually tend to enjoy manga with themes like Black Gate, but I found it hard to get interested in this manga because Sumiyoshi tends to gloss over character development. None of her characters have terribly unique personalities, and the protagonist Hijiri isn’t very nuanced. I found myself not really caring what was going to happen to Hijiri, and that made it difficult to work up much enthusiasm for this manga. Sumiyoshi’s art is slick and competent, and she has a knack for creating attractive character designs. I really wish she’d been partnered with a different author because I think the work would have been so much better if the art was created in service to a more interesting story. I tend to place a little more importance on story than art when reading manga, but the art has to be absolutely gorgeous for me to overlook dull storytelling. Biomega might be incoherent, but it has the advantages of lovely art and a gimmicky supporting character that I adore. Bride of the Water God is gorgeous, and relies more on mood and extra pretty characters than story. Unfortunately there wasn’t enough in Black Gate to compensate for its narrative shortcomings. I read all three volumes of Black Gate, hoping the story would get better and I ended up disappointed. Someone who reads manga primarily for the art might find Black Gate much more fun than I did.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Manga Artifacts: Princess Knight

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What Osamu Tezuka’s New Treasure Island (1946) was to shonen, his Princess Knight (1953-56) was to shojo. Both were long-form adventure stories that employed the kind of camera angles, reaction shots, and action sequences that suggested a movie, rather than an illustrated novel or a comic strip. Neither could be said to be the “first” shonen or shojo manga, but both had a profound influence on the artists who came of age in the 1940s and 1950s, offering a new storytelling model for them to emulate.

Princess Knight debuted in Shojo Club magazine in 1953, serialized in three-to-four page installments over a three-year period. The story proved so popular it inspired a radio play, a ballet, and a sequel, Twin Knight (1958-59), which followed the adventures of Princess Sapphire’s children. Ever the tinkerer, Tezuka revisited the story twice in the 1960s: first for Nakayoshi magazine, from 1963-66, and then for Shojo Friend, from 1967-68. Both the Nakayoshi and Shojo Friend versions re-told the original story with new artwork and subtle changes to the cast of characters. While the Nakayoshi version was a certifiable hit, and came to be regarded as the definitive edition of Princess Knight, Tezuka’s fourth go-round with the series was, by the author’s own admission, a commercial flop, an ill-conceived tie-in with an anime version that was airing on Fuji TV at the same time.

The basic outline of the 1953 and 1963 stories is the same: a mischievous angel named Tink gives the unborn Princess Sapphire an extra heart — and a boy’s heart, no less. Before Tink can recover the spare, however, Sapphire is born into the royal family of Goldland, a country in which only men can inherit the throne. Eager to avoid a crisis of succession, Sapphire’s parents raise her as a boy — a fraud that their enemy, Duke Duralmin, reveals just before Sapphire is crowned the new king. Sapphire escapes, then adopts a new, masked persona, using the skills she acquired as a king-in-training — horseback riding, swordsmanship — and the physical strength granted by her male heart to rescue her subjects from Duralmin’s tyranny.

Reading Princess Knight in 2010, it’s impossible to ignore Tezuka’s myriad borrowings. The story is an affectionate pastiche of Christianity, Greek mythology, and European fairy tales, at once utterly derivative and completely fresh in the way it appropriates plot points from “Cinderella,” Hamlet, Dracula, and “Eros and Psyche.” A Disney-esque sensibility smooths over the rough edges of this collage; resourceful mice and talking horses provide both aid to the heroine and comic relief, while the deities bear a strong resemblance to the prancing satyrs and nymphs of Fantasia‘s “Pastoral” interlude. Characters even burst into song, prompting Tezuka to draw several elaborate, full-page spreads that resemble Busby Berkeley routines.

What makes this pastiche especially interesting is the way in which Tezuka’s childhood fascination with the Takarazuka Revue informs his female characters. As Natsu Onoda Power observes in God of Comics: Osamu Tezuka and the Creation of Post-World War II Manga, Tezuka never fully camouflages Sapphire’s female identity; Sapphire adopts male speech patterns and dress, yet retains feminine attributes — a shapely waist, thin eyebrows — when in drag. Neither the reader nor the other characters doubt she is a woman; only Friebe, a beautiful female knight who falls in love with Sapphire, is convinced of Sapphire’s maleness. Like the otoko yaku (male role specialists) of Takarazuka, Sapphire doesn’t impersonate a man so much as embody a feminine ideal of masculinity. Kobayashi Ichizo, founder of the Takarazuka Revue, intuitively understood that female audiences favored such idealized portrayals over verisimilitude. “When a woman performs as a man,” he explained, “she is able to craft an image of a man that is better than a real man, from a woman’s perspective.” (Power, 118)

For young readers, however, the real draw is the story’s mixture of swashbuckling adventure and conventional romance. Sapphire scales walls, dons disguises, duels with her rivals, and escapes from prison several times, yet is still beautiful enough to win the heart of a pirate king and a Prince Charming (no, really — her primary love interest is named Franz Charming), even when she’s posing as a man. It’s an irresistible fantasy: a girl can be brave, strong, and resourceful, and still inspire the kind of devotion normally accorded more passive, conventionally feminine characters. Small wonder Princess Knight beguiled several generations of Japanese girls.

American readers interested in reading Princess Knight have two options. The first is a bilingual edition published by Kodansha in 2001, which reproduces the Nakayoshi version from 1963-66. The small trim size and occasionally colorful translation don’t do the material any favors (“Get away from me, you shitty little cherub!” an evil witch screeches), but the artwork is reproduced very cleanly, making it easy to appreciate Tezuka’s draftsmanship. A number of Japanese booksellers have been offering used copies on eBay; expect to pay anywhere from $7.00 to $30.00 per volume. (I purchased all six volumes through mkbooks2003.) The second is a brief excerpt from the Shojo Club version, which was reproduced in the July 2007 issue of Shojo Beat. For readers who don’t want to commit to buying the bilingual editon, the chapters reproduced in Shojo Beat offer a nice, representative sample of the work, and are accompanied by a helpful contextual essay. Expect to pay $6.00 to $18.00 for a back issue in good condition.

UPDATE, 1/28/11: Vertical, Inc. has just announced that it has licensed the Nakayoshi edition of Princess Knight for the North American market. The series will be published in two installments: volume one will be released on October 4, 2011 and volume two on December 6, 2011. Both volumes will retail for $13.95. Anime News Network has more details. Hat tip to CJ for breaking the news to me!

Manga Artifacts is a monthly feature exploring older, out-of-print manga published in the 1980s and 1990s. For a fuller description of the series’ purpose, see the inaugural column.

Manga Artifacts: Princess Knight

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What Osamu Tezuka’s New Treasure Island (1946) was to shonen, his Princess Knight (1953-56) was to shojo. Both were long-form adventure stories that employed the kind of camera angles, reaction shots, and action sequences that suggested a movie, rather than an illustrated novel or a comic strip. Neither could be said to be the “first” shonen or shojo manga, but both had a profound influence on the artists who came of age in the 1940s and 1950s, offering a new storytelling model for them to emulate.

Princess Knight debuted in Shojo Club magazine in 1953, serialized in three-to-four page installments over a three-year period. The story proved so popular it inspired a radio play, a ballet, and a sequel, Twin Knight (1958-59), which followed the adventures of Princess Sapphire’s children. Ever the tinkerer, Tezuka revisited the story twice in the 1960s: first for Nakayoshi magazine, from 1963-66, and then for Shojo Friend, from 1967-68. Both the Nakayoshi and Shojo Friend versions re-told the original story with new artwork and subtle changes to the cast of characters. While the Nakayoshi version was a certifiable hit, and came to be regarded as the definitive edition of Princess Knight, Tezuka’s fourth go-round with the series was, by the author’s own admission, a commercial flop, an ill-conceived tie-in with an anime version that was airing on Fuji TV at the same time.

The basic outline of the 1953 and 1963 stories is the same: a mischievous angel named Tink gives the unborn Princess Sapphire an extra heart — and a boy’s heart, no less. Before Tink can recover the spare, however, Sapphire is born into the royal family of Goldland, a country in which only men can inherit the throne. Eager to avoid a crisis of succession, Sapphire’s parents raise her as a boy — a fraud that their enemy, Duke Duralmin, reveals just before Sapphire is crowned the new king. Sapphire escapes, then adopts a new, masked persona, using the skills she acquired as a king-in-training — horseback riding, swordsmanship — and the physical strength granted by her male heart to rescue her subjects from Duralmin’s tyranny.

Reading Princess Knight in 2010, it’s impossible to ignore Tezuka’s myriad borrowings. The story is an affectionate pastiche of Christianity, Greek mythology, and European fairy tales, at once utterly derivative and completely fresh in the way it appropriates plot points from “Cinderella,” Hamlet, Dracula, and “Eros and Psyche.” A Disney-esque sensibility smooths over the rough edges of this collage; resourceful mice and talking horses provide both aid to the heroine and comic relief, while the deities bear a strong resemblance to the prancing satyrs and nymphs of Fantasia‘s “Pastoral” interlude. Characters even burst into song, prompting Tezuka to draw several elaborate, full-page spreads that resemble Busby Berkeley routines.

What makes this pastiche especially interesting is the way in which Tezuka’s childhood fascination with the Takarazuka Revue informs his female characters. As Natsu Onoda Power observes in God of Comics: Osamu Tezuka and the Creation of Post-World War II Manga, Tezuka never fully camouflages Sapphire’s female identity; Sapphire adopts male speech patterns and dress, yet retains feminine attributes — a shapely waist, thin eyebrows — when in drag. Neither the reader nor the other characters doubt she is a woman; only Friebe, a beautiful female knight who falls in love with Sapphire, is convinced of Sapphire’s maleness. Like the otoko yaku (male role specialists) of Takarazuka, Sapphire doesn’t impersonate a man so much as embody a feminine ideal of masculinity. Kobayashi Ichizo, founder of the Takarazuka Revue, intuitively understood that female audiences favored such idealized portrayals over verisimilitude. “When a woman performs as a man,” he explained, “she is able to craft an image of a man that is better than a real man, from a woman’s perspective.” (Power, 118)

For young readers, however, the real draw is the story’s mixture of swashbuckling adventure and conventional romance. Sapphire scales walls, dons disguises, duels with her rivals, and escapes from prison several times, yet is still beautiful enough to win the heart of a pirate king and a Prince Charming (no, really — her primary love interest is named Franz Charming), even when she’s posing as a man. It’s an irresistible fantasy: a girl can be brave, strong, and resourceful, and still inspire the kind of devotion normally accorded more passive, conventionally feminine characters. Small wonder Princess Knight beguiled several generations of Japanese girls.

American readers interested in reading Princess Knight have two options. The first is a bilingual edition published by Kodansha in 2001, which reproduces the Nakayoshi version from 1963-66. The small trim size and occasionally colorful translation don’t do the material any favors (“Get away from me, you shitty little cherub!” an evil witch screeches), but the artwork is reproduced very cleanly, making it easy to appreciate Tezuka’s draftsmanship. A number of Japanese booksellers have been offering used copies on eBay; expect to pay anywhere from $7.00 to $30.00 per volume. (I purchased all six volumes through mkbooks2003.) The second is a brief excerpt from the Shojo Club version, which was reproduced in the July 2007 issue of Shojo Beat. For readers who don’t want to commit to buying the bilingual editon, the chapters reproduced in Shojo Beat offer a nice, representative sample of the work, and are accompanied by a helpful contextual essay. Expect to pay $6.00 to $18.00 for a back issue in good condition.

UPDATE, 1/28/11: Vertical, Inc. has just announced that it has licensed the Nakayoshi edition of Princess Knight for the North American market. The series will be published in two installments: volume one will be released on October 4, 2011 and volume two on December 6, 2011. Both volumes will retail for $13.95. Anime News Network has more details. Hat tip to CJ for breaking the news to me!

Manga Artifacts is a monthly feature exploring older, out-of-print manga published in the 1980s and 1990s. For a fuller description of the series’ purpose, see the inaugural column.

From the stack: Ayako

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I’m not going to claim that I’ve loved everything of Osamu Tezuka’s that I’ve read. Pinocchio remodels are right after Peter Pan tales in the list of things that make me lose patience, so I’ve only sampled Astro Boy (Dark Horse). Swallowing the Earth (DMP) had a crazy verve that couldn’t quite compensate for its ultimate clumsiness.

Ayako (Vertical) adds another to the roster of Tezuka works that I just can’t fully endorse, and I’m still figuring out why that is. It’s a sprawling, serious-minded saga of familial disintegration, which can promise all kinds of good times, but those fail to materialize in this case. Tezuka is on his almost-best behavior here, and while it makes me feel rather shallow for saying so, I wish he’d worn the lampshade a bit more often.

The weird and marvelous thing about Tezuka is that the puckish quality of his storytelling – the human tempura, the pansexual masters of disguise, the just-a-trunk warriors – doesn’t diminish its force. He can still make moving and persuasive arguments about morality, family and leadership without resorting to austerity. It seems that, without those flights of fancy, his gruesome assessment of selfishness and cruelty becomes almost exhausting, even rote.

The title character is the illegitimate daughter of the patriarch of a family of landed gentry trying to hold onto their property after the end of World War II. Ayako is the fulcrum of all of the family’s greedy, sexy secrets, and she suffers accordingly as her extended clan vent their frustrations, ambitions and shame on her. Given the structure of her life, it’s hard to imagine how she could emerge as a proper character, and she really doesn’t. She’s an acre of family land where the bodies are buried.

With her rendered somewhat useless in terms of specific reader empathy, who’s left? Ayako’s half-siblings seem united only in their willingness to abdicate anything like responsibility or conscience. Her prisoner-of-war older brother is spying for the occupying forces. Her sister is dabbling with the socialists, politically and emotionally. Even her amateur sleuth youngest brother is unwilling to translate his curiosity and surprisingly developed sense of justice into sustained action.

But that’s the point, I think – that moral compromise is kind of an incurable cancer, and that people, no matter what they were like at the beginning, are doomed once they take that wrong step. A tale like that can have compelling moments, but I think that progressive decay as a narrative structure becomes exhausting after a while. It certainly does here. It’s a harangue at the characters and the culture they inhabit, not an argument in which the audience can engage, which is usually the nature of Tezuka’s morality plays.

Since I’m (obviously) still working out my thoughts on this piece, I’ll point you to a couple of better-argued pieces on Ayako (which I didn’t let myself read until after writing the above). First up is Kate (The Manga Critic) Dacey, whose evaluation tracks with my own. Then, there’s Alexander (Manga Widget) Hoffman, who finds a lot to admire in the work.

(This review is based on a complimentary copy provided by the publisher.)