Manga Bookshelf

Discussion, Resources, Roundtables, & Reviews

Katherine Dacey

Manga Artifacts: The Unauthorized Astro Boy Comic

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In 1963, NBC acquired the rights to broadcast Tetsuwan Atomu, or Mighty Atom, an animated children’s show that had been a hit on Japanese television earlier that year. NBC executives renamed it Astro Boy and began airing it in September on WNEW, NBC’s New York City affiliate. Astro Boy proved a success with young viewers, prompting NBC to order fifty-two more episodes from Mushi Studios and syndicate the show nationally (Schodt 88).

Two years later, NBC licensed the Astro Boy character rights to Gold Key Comics . Gold Key was a brand-new subsidiary of Western Publishers, best known to consumers for titles like The Poky Little Puppy and The Saggy Baggy Elephant. The company had considerable experience selling its Little Golden Books through non-traditional outlets — supermarkets, drug stores — and wanted to apply that knowledge to the newsstand comics market, then dominated by companies such as Dell Comics.

Without the knowledge or approval of Mushi Studios or Osamu Tezuka, Gold Key hired an artist to adapt the Astro Boy show into a comic. (No artist is credited for Astro Boy #1.) The result was a four-color, two-story issue that used Osamu Tezuka’s characters but bore little to no resemblance to the comic that had been running in Shonen magazine since 1952.

“Gangor the Monster,” the first of the two stories, is based on an episode of the Astro Boy show. The plot is simple: Gangor, a centipede-like robot, terrorizes the passengers aboard an ocean liner on which Astro and Professor Ochanomizu (called Dr. Packadermus J. Elefun in the English version) are traveling. Astro Boy soon discovers Gangor’s secret — Gangor is actually comprised of forty-seven identical robots — and quickly defeats it in a battle that unfolds underwater and in the air. As in many Silver Age comics, word balloons carry the burden of the storytelling; though we see several panels of Gangor in action, most of what we learn about Gangor is revealed in conversations between the main characters:

The second story, “Attack of the Mud People” is original, with no obvious precedent in the the show. In terms of tone and plot, it reads like a rejected DC Comics script: a pair of evil scientists unleash a horde of mud monsters on an unsuspecting city, demanding five million dollars in ransom. (Better still: the scientists have mustaches. They also happen to be identical twins. It’s a trifecta of villainy!) Astro Boy is nearly defeated by the monsters, as their dirt clogs his joints, preventing him from flying. In a flash of inspiration, he realizes the best way to stop the monsters is to make it rain — a feat he accomplishes with the aid of a little dry ice. As in “Gangor,” very little actually happens; most of the story consists of characters’ reaction shots as they flee in terror, or watch Astro Boy go mano-a-mano with the monsters.

As the page above demonstrates, both stories look more like generic Silver Age products than shonen manga; small wonder Tezuka deplored it as a cheap knock-off of his work. Yet for all their flaws, both stories offer a fascinating window into the American comics industry in the 1960s.

For one thing, they attest to the the growing importance of television as source material for comics publishers. A quick glance at Gold Key’s catalog turns up comics based on The Addams Family, Dark Shadows, Lost in Space, My Favorite Martian, Star Trek, and The Twilight Zone. Animated shows were an important part of the Gold Key catalog as well. In the 1960s and early 1970s, Gold Key had a partnership with Hanna-Barbera Studios, cranking out comic book versions of The Amazing Chan and the Chan Clan, The Flintstones, The Pink Panther, and Scooby Doo. As former Gold Key writer Mark Evanier explains, there was a standard procedure for taking a new show and turning it into a comic. The first few stories would faithfully reproduce early episodes; after that, the artist was given greater creative freedom to do as he saw fit with the characters:

Chase [Craig, the editor] handed me a pile of storyboards and told me to read them all to get a feel for the property but to write an adaptation of one in particular… Anyway, I was assigned to adapt it and later on if the comic continued, there would be original stories conceived fresh for the comics. As Chase explained to me, he preferred to launch a new H-B book in this manner. The studio had approval rights and the people there could get pointlessly picky about the material…but they rarely bothered looking at any issue after the first few. Therefore, it simplified the procedure to do the first issue as an adaptation and maybe the second. They couldn’t very well complain that a plot taken from the show was inappropriate.

We can see this process at work in the Astro Boy comic as well, with one story based on the show and one story drawn from the artist’s imagination. Of course, no one from Mushi Studios was reviewing the work, as in the model that Evanier describes above; the primary reason for re-telling “Gigantor,” presumably, was to cement the connection between the show and the comic.

These stories also attest to a powerful Western arrogance about the source material; every effort was made to conceal its Japanese origins, from renaming the characters to adding color. More telling still was that Tezuka himself was never identified as Astro Boy‘s creator; NBC was listed as the copyright holder (Schodt 88-89). It never occurred to anyone at either NBC or Gold Key that the very foreignness of the original material — the action-driven storytelling, the frank presentation of difficult issues — might appeal more to kids than a bowdlerized version in which every conflict was neatly resolved in sixteen pages, and no one ever died. For that version of Astro Boy, American readers would have to wait another thirty-seven years.

Works Cited

Evanier, Mark. “Goodbye, Charlie!” News From Me. N.p., 25 Apr. 2006. Web. 07 Sept. 2012. <http://www.newsfromme.com/archives/2006_04_25.html>.

“Gold Key Astro Boy #1 – Attack of the Mud People.” Magic Carpet Burn. N.p., 23 Mar. 2009. Web. 07 Sept. 2012. <http://magiccarpetburn.blogspot.com/2009/03/gold-key-astro-boy-1-attack-of-mud.html>.

“Gold Key Astro Boy #1 – Attack of the Mud People (Conclusion).” Magic Carpet Burn. N.p., 24 Mar. 2009. Web. 07 Sept. 2012. <http://magiccarpetburn.blogspot.com/2009/03/gold-key-astro-boy-1-attack-of-mud_24.html>.

“Gold Key Astro Boy #1 – Gangor the Monster Pt One.” Magic Carpet Burn. N.p., 21 Mar. 2009. Web. 07 Sept. 2012. <http://magiccarpetburn.blogspot.com/2009/03/gold-key-astro-boy-1-gangor-monster-pt.html>.

“Gold Key Astro Boy #1 – Gangor the Monster Pt Two.” Magic Carpet Burn. N.p., 22 Mar. 2009. Web. 07 Sept. 2012. <http://magiccarpetburn.blogspot.com/2009/03/gold-key-astro-boy-1-gangor-monster-pt_22.html>.

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

Pick of the Week: September Bounty

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KATE: After several lean weeks, the Midtown Comics list is bursting at the seams with great titles. I have no doubt that at least one of my fellow Battle Robot members will bang the drum for Osamu Tezuka’s Message to Adolf, which Vertical is re-issuing in a splendid, two-volume hardcover edition, so I’ll plug another Vertical title: volume nine of Chi’s Sweet Home. I adored Chi before I became a cat owner last November — c’mon, what’s not to like about cute kitten antics? — but I’ve developed an even deeper appreciation for the series after living with Francesca. Kanata Konami does a great job of showing the pet-owning experience from both the pet and the person’s point of view, never avoiding those moments that test an owner’s patience: barf, shredded toilet paper, pilfered food, accidents. In the last few volumes, Konami’s done a nice job of expanding Chi’s horizons beyond the confines of her apartment, preventing the story from becoming too cutely claustrophobic or repetitive. Best of all, Chi is one of those rare manga that I could hand to just about anyone — a six-year-old, my mom, a grumpy subway commuter — and know that they’d enjoy it.

SEAN: Tempted as I am to go with one of my many light, fluffy comfort manga which will no doubt make me smile more, I have to admit that the pick of the week is going to be Message to Adolf, the new Tezuka release from Vertical. I never did read the first release of this when Viz put it out back in the day, so am looking forward to seeing what late-period, mature Tezuka can be like. The premise alone sounds good – examining the life of three people named Adolf, one of whom you probably know – but the artwork is also more advanced and detailed, and the book’s design is gorgeous. At about 1200 pages total between the two volumes, this tome is a big investment, but I sense that it’s going to be worth it.

MICHELLE: I am completely on board with both Chi’s Sweet Home and Message to Adolf—I was fortunate enough to be able to read the old VIZ editions via inter-library loan a couple years ago—but I would be remiss if I did not voice my squee at a new volume of Yuu Watase’s Fushigi Yûgi: Genbu Kaiden appearing on this list! It’s been nearly three years since we’ve had a new installment in this series, which finds Watase revisiting the world of Fushigi Yûgi as a more experienced storyteller. I can’t wait to get caught up, and it makes me even happier that volume eleven isn’t too far behind!

MJ: After all that, I hardly know what to choose! I’ll be anxiously digging in to all three of my colleagues’ picks as soon as I can get my grubby little hands on them, but with such a bounty shipping in this week, I feel I should take the opportunity to spotlight another title. So in the end, I’ll give my nod to volume eight of Natsume Ono’s House of Five Leaves. I’ve made it a habit to champion this title whenever I have the chance, so why stop now? This series really shows off all of Ono’s greatest strengths—subtle relationships, nuanced characterization, complicated morality, and her lovely, distinctive artwork. Even in the midst of a very hectic week, when I sit down with a new volume of House of Five Leaves, I simply have to savor it, page by page. It’s an enduring favorite.

Readers, what looks good to you this week?

Bookshelf Briefs 9/3/12

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This week, Sean and Kate look at recent releases from Yen Press, VIZ Media, and Dark Horse Comics.

13th Boy, Vol. 12 | By SangEun Lee | Yen Press – For a series that featured a talking cactus in a doo-rag and a sassy stuffed rabbit, 13th Boy has a surprisingly restrained finale. Yes, there are dramatic moments, but author SangEun Lee focuses more on what her characters don’t say to one another than what they do; she honors the intensity of their feelings while reminding us that teenagers don’t usually express themselves in complete paragraphs outside the world of Dawson’s Creek. Readers who became attached to 13th Boys‘s supporting cast won’t leave disappointed, either; Lee includes a lengthy postscript explaining, in comic detail, what happened to Nam-Joo, Sae Bom, and Hee-So’s sisters. In short, 13th Boy‘s last installment offers readers a happy ending that’s ever-so-slightly tinged with sadness, remaining true to the spirit of earlier volumes. -Katherine Dacey

A Devil and Her Love Song, Vol. 4 | By Miyoshi Tomori | VIZ Media – OK, first of all, that teacher has to go. Seriously, I cannot take nine more volumes of him. That said, apart from him, there was an excellent attempt made at humanizing all the kids in this volume. There’s still the usual high school melodrama, with everyone believing the worst of everyone else – especially Maria – but her blunt forthrightness is actually starting to pay dividends, as we see one of the class pretty yet petty girls (she has princess curls, so you know she’s a brat) attempting to follow that path… and finding, as Maria has, that it’s full of thorns. So the other kids are finding that Maria is not this hideous ‘other’ that she was painted as, but Maria still can’t quite see herself as being just like them. Also, kisses out of nowhere. That can be bad for a girl’s fragile heart. Can’t wait for the next volume. –Sean Gaffney

The Earl and the Fairy, Vol. 3 | Story and Art by Ayuko, Original Concept by Mizue Tani | VIZ Media – The Earl and the Fairy is a quintessential Shojo Beat title: it has a handsome male lead who’s both a rogue and a romantic, a spunky heroine who won’t admit she likes him, and a pretty female rival who schemes to separate the heroine from her prince. In volume three, for example, Lydia finds herself locked in a battle of wits with Rosalie, a spoiled girl who’s enlisted a “bogey-beast” to dispatch any woman who shows so much as a faint interest in Edgar. Lydia and Rosalie’s catty exchanges wouldn’t be out of place in a high school melodrama, but the supernatural elements and Victorian setting add an element of dramatic interest that distracts the reader from the sheer predictability of the scenario. That the volume ends with a genuine cliffhanger is one its most pleasant surprises; we may not have much difficulty guessing the outcome, but there’s enough at stake for the reader to wait patiently for the next installment in December. -Katherine Dacey

Library Wars: Love & War, Vol. 8 | Story and Art by Kiiro Yumi, Original Concept by Hiro Arakawa | VIZ Media – I’ve been something of a skeptic about Library Wars — not because I disliked the premise, but because I found story too pat. Volume eight has almost made me into a convert, as it strikes a better balance between Ray Bradburian intrigue and shojo romance, introducing a subplot with a radical anti-censorship group and a possible court martial for Kasahara. What prevents it from being a slam dunk is Kasahara’s impenetrable cluelessness; she spends almost half of volume eight berating herself for not recognizing Dojo as the “prince” who inspired her to join the Library Forces — an epiphany that all but the least astute reader had in the very first chapter of the series. Let’s hope Kasahara’s Saul-on-the-road-to-Damascus moment frees Kiiro Yumi to move the story in a more compelling — and dramatically fruitful — direction in volume nine. -Katherine Dacey

Oh My Goddess!, Vol. 42 | By Kosuke Fujishima | Dark Horse Comics – Skuld graces the cover of this volume, and that’s appropriate as she’s the focus for most of it as well. Skuld’s growing power and growing maturity has been an ongoing plot point in this series, and it ties in well to the overall subplot of ‘inanimate objects need love too, and will reward you if you treat them right’. Skuld faces off against a demon with a better set of machines, but she triumphs because her machines are sentient beings with feelings to her, and she doesn’t destroy them so casually. We also see a sign she may pass her sisters some day – she doesn’t need the big spell buildup the other two do. Apart from her, though, the plot churns along slowly, as we advance from boss fight to boss fight, waiting for the inevitable climax. Which is very slow in arriving. –Sean Gaffney

Soul Eater, Vol. 10 | By Atsushi Ohkubo | Yen Press – There’s a whole lot going on in this volume. Our heroes finish their battle against Mosquito, with the help of Soul’s piano (it makes sense in context), but fail to obtain their objective… which is, of course, in the enemy’s hands. Maka finds that Crona may be a double agent. Black*Star is having issues with his power destroying him, and his bullheadedness leads to a fight with Death The Kid. And a new character from Marie’s past comes to the DWMA to try and ferret out a traitor. If you’ve read stories like these, you can guess how that’s going to end up. Impressively, the author manages to make these all work together, and invest some real emotion in their fates, especially B.J. and Black*Star. I still love the weird art deco art style, but it’s not longer just about that. This is a dark, addicting rush of a manga.-Sean Gaffney

Pick of the Week: Ikigami, Gate 7, Itazura, Dorohedoro

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KATE: This week’s shipping list is heavy on Dark Horse and DMP titles, and light on just about everything else. I still have no idea what’s happening in Gate 7, and I lost patience with Itazura na Kiss several volumes ago, so my pick goes to one of Wednesday’s few VIZ releases: volume eight of Ikigami: The Ultimate Limit. I have a hot-and-cold relationship with Ikigami: the artwork is terrific and expressive, and the premise is chilling in a good, thought-provoking way. At the same time, however, the stories are unrelentingly grim, and the tone so pessimistic that I can only read a few chapters at a time before needing a stiff drink. The other problem with Ikigami is that the overarching story — in which a “reaper” slowly begins to question his job — unfolds at what might be charitably described as a snail’s pace. Still, recent volumes have shown incremental progress in bringing Fujimoto’s crisis of conscience to the fore, giving me hope that the series is moving in a new and more dramatically satisfying direction.

MJ: It’s kind of an odd week for me, which is to say that there is a decent amount of new manga shipping in, with little of it to my taste. So I’ll make a rather optimistic choice this week and pick volume three of CLAMP’s Gate 7. While I joyfully declared volume one of this series to be “my kind of CLAMP,” its second volume’s onslaught of exposition and historical information left me a bit cold. However, having now discovered this tumblr full of guidance on Gate 7‘s historical matters, I’m ready to jump back in again for another try. If nothing else, Gate 7 offers me CLAMP’s latest take on their Watanuki-model character, which is pretty much bullet-proof for me, so that may get me through on its own. So, Gate 7 it is!

MICHELLE: Although I do intend to check out the latest volume of Ikigami and haven’t completely given up on Gate 7, I don’t feel enthusiastic enough about either to appoint one my pick of the week. I’m largely unfamiliar with most of the rest of the offerings on the list, though I confess to being slightly amused that I’ve Seen It All evidently involves love in a urology clinic. So, basically this is my exceedingly long-winded way of saying, yet again, that Itazura Na Kiss gets my vote.

SEAN: I have to know what happens! Will Caiman reunite with Nikaido? What about the new relationship between her and En, now that we know more about En’s past? I want to see more goofy humor between Noi and Shin as they casually kill people. I want more casual killing and gore from this cast of anti-heroes (or lovable villains). I want to be able to spot tiny little things in the background. I want more world-building and locations we haven’t seen before! I want to find out more about the head in Caiman’s mouth, who I think we finally have figured out. And I want more gyoza! Delicious gyoza! So yes, for all that and more, and to no one’s surprise, Dorohedoro is my pick this week.

Readers, what looks good to you this week?

Bookshelf Briefs 8/20/12

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This week, Sean, MJ, Kate, & Michelle look at recent releases from Yen Press, VIZ Media, and Kodansha Comics.

Ai Ore!, Vol. 6 | By Mayu Shinjo | VIZ Media – It really is astonishing what changing magazines/publishers has done for this title. It still has its issues, but the way that it handles them is more acceptable and more mature. This is not to say that the premise is completely different, however. Akira is still trying to prove that he’s a manly man for Mizuki, Mizuki is still getting embarrassed and misunderstanding everything, and Ran and Rui trade off between being comedic creepers and serious creepers. At one point, Rui tries to seduce Misaki, to the point almost of sexual assault. But Misaki doesn’t buy it, and neither do we – unlike Vol. 1 of this series, the danger doesn’t feel genuine. You can argue this makes the series fluffier and less electrically charged, but it also makes Akira and Mizuki’s relationship far sweeter and more tolerable. –Sean Gaffney

Bunny Drop, Vol. 6 | By Yumi Unita | Yen Press – As the series continues with its new switch to Rin as its primary POV character, the story begins to revolve around Rin’s increasingly awkward relationship with her childhood friend Kouki, whose (supposedly) ex-girlfriend deliberately alienates Rin. Fortunately, this plotline is more nuanced than it sounds, deftly avoiding most of the “evil rival” territory common in manga for female readers. Unfortunately, Unita seems less comfortable writing Rin’s voice than she was writing Daikichi’s—or maybe Daikichi is just infinitely more comfortable than Rin herself—which means that there is often a noticeable distance between the reader and the series’ protagonist. On the upside, Rin’s evolving balance between dependence and independence creates unexpected difficulties in Daikichi’s own personal life, allowing us back (however briefly) into his somewhat more forthcoming mind. Though the series’ new direction seems to still be settling in, there’s enough solid ground left for nearly any fan to stand on. Still recommended. – MJ

Cage of Eden, Vol. 6 | By Yoshinobu Yamada | Kodansha Comics – This really is the perfect series for 12-year-old boys, though I would not recommend it to parents of those boys. There’s far too much casual nudity, casual violence, and general skeevy fanservice. But it also has bears vs. wolves, in which our hero teams up with the wolf because of their similar roles in their groups. It’s almost pure shonen at its finest. We meet two more regulars here. I suspect Rei is there entirely to be a large-breasted woman (you know, in case there weren’t enough of those), but Maya seems to be more of an action girl, and backs it up. She seems a bit *too* eager for battle, though, and I wonder if she’ll last long. Then again, the only people in this series who seem to be killed are the irredeemable ones, such as manipulative Kotomi or stalker Ryoichi.-Sean Gaffney

The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, Vol. 13 | By Gaku Tsugano and Nagaru Tanigawa | Yen Press – I haven’t reviewed this series for a while, but since it’s moved on to stories that aren’t animated, it has managed to improve – finally, it can be 2nd best, rather than 3rd! It has a difficult job here, as Editor in Chief, the short story adapted for this volume, does not lend itself well to the visual. Still, it manages pretty well, and also throws in an original short story chapter, featuring Miyoko, the girl from Kyon’s story, arriving to ask the SOS-Dan to help her investigate a haunted house. It shakes things up by having Taniguchi and Kunikida there rather than Yuki and Mikuru, and also has an ending that undercuts the tension but still is nicely sentimental. The art is still only fair, and I’d rather read the novels, but this is now an acceptable alternative. –Sean Gaffney

Ooku: The Inner Chambers, Vol. 7 | By Fumi Yoshinaga | VIZ Media – Ever since the end of volume one, the latest Tokugawa Shogun, Yoshimune, has been reading Chronicle of a Dying Day, which tells the story of how women came to rule Japan. Readers have followed along, and here in volume seven we finally return to the “present,” but not before realizing just how much scheming Yoshimune—or perhaps simply her ever-faithful attendant, Hisamichi—has engaged in to become the next Shogun. It’s just another lesson that nearly everyone in this tale, no matter how likeable, has sinned in pursuit of power, sometimes inflicting misfortune upon the innocent. Maybe it’s because of this that Ooku, despite being interesting and boasting some impressive art, doesn’t stand a chance of becoming my favorite Yoshinaga manga. Oh, I’ll keep following it, but Antique Bakery‘s place in my heart is secure. – Michelle Smith

Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Vol. 2 | Story by Magica Quartet, Art by Hanokage | Yen Press – If your chief aversion to magical-girl manga is its earnest, perky wholesomeness, then Puella Magi Madoka Magica is for you. The series is dark and violent, using the magical-girl concept as a metaphor for adolescence in all its ugliness. In volume two, for example, we see the corrosive influence of jealousy, as Sayaka begins to regret wishing for her friend Kamijou’s full recovery. Sayaka’s rapid descent into anger and self-pity is one of the most astonishing developments in the volume — and that’s saying something, given the healthy sprinkling of fight scenes, dramatic confrontations, and plot twists. As terrific as some of these scenes are, Puella often feels rushed. Most of the fight sequences are too brief and too busy to make much sense; one gets the sense that the writers were trying too hard to cover all the major plot points of the anime, rather than tailoring the story to a different medium. That said, Puella has consistently surprised me with its ability to both faithfully observe and thoroughly subvert magical-girl tropes, and continues to grow on me with each volume. -Katherine Dacey

Pick of the Week: Ninja, Samurai, Hoops, & Blades

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MICHELLE: There’s a lot of good stuff on Midtown’s list this week, including new volumes of a few favorites like Slam Dunk and Dawn of the Arcana, but I must avail myself of the once-yearly chance to award my pick to Kaze Hikaru, now in its 20th volume. While I’m sad that this series doesn’t come out more frequently, I’m exceedingly grateful that it hasn’t been outright cancelled, because it’s quite an affecting read. The cross-dressing element of the story—a young woman has disguised herself as a warrior in order to fight alongside the Shinsengumi—doesn’t do much for me, but I love that very sad and complicated things can and do happen, which makes me keen to see just how closely mangaka Taeko Watanabe will follow history. Highly recommended.

SEAN: Lotsa good stuff this time around, but my obvious pick is for a series I’ll see for the last time. I’ve loved Bamboo Blade since it began, a sports manga that shows jaded girls, flaky girls, ambitious girls, and quite frankly dangerously insane girls, all of whom can throw off all that baggage and become awesome with the power of kendo in order to reach the top. For most of the series the top has been our heroine, Tamaki. And now she’s finally discovering that she still has something to reach for, and that kendo is not just about making her more sociable. I can’t wait to see the end, and will miss the series dearly when I do get to it.

KATE: Long-time readers of my blog know I’m a shameless promoter of Kaze Hikaru. And InuYasha. And Kekkaishi. So I’m going to deviate from my well-established pattern of promoting my favorite titles and recommend volume twenty-three of Slam Dunk. One of the things I like best about this series is the way Takehiko Inoue balances intense game play with slapstick humor. Hard-core sports fans will appreciate the skill with which Inoue renders the pick-and-roll and free throw, while ordinary otaku can can appreciate the goofy, anything-for-a-laugh moments that punctuate the practices, scrimmages, and games.

MJ: There really is a lot to choose from this week, but the title that most catches my eye is one I haven’t thought about in a while. I became an immediate fan when I read the first volume of Nabari no Ou back in 2009, but I let it fall off my radar a bit after the first few volumes. Then last week, I read this review of volume ten by Kate O’Neil at the Fandom Post, and it became suddenly clear that I needed to catch up. So this week’s must-buy for me is volume eleven of Nabari no Ou. I really look forward to digging in to this series again, especially now that I have a few volumes ready to marathon all at once. I’ll be sure to report back!

Readers, what looks good to you this week?

Pick of the Week: Flowers of Evil, GTO, Lizzie Newton

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MJ: Though Midtown Comics’ selection is pretty limited this week, I still find myself a bit torn. I’ve been a big fan of Tohru Fujisawa’s GTO: 14 Days in Shonan—much bigger than I’d ever expected, in fact—so that’s certainly a major draw for me. But I think my real vote goes to the second volume of another Vertical title—Shuzo Oshimi’s The Flowers of Evil. The series’ first volume offered up a thoughtful take on some of the awkward realities of teenage sexuality, portrayed with a level of honesty (especially regarding its young, male protagonist) that I really hadn’t anticipated. I was surprised by my own reaction to this series, and I am really looking forward to more.

SEAN: Tempted as I am to ignore Midtown’s list and pick one of the pile of Viz coming out everywhere else this week, I will refrain. Instead, let’s go with Vol. 13 of GTO The Early Years, which doesn’t get as much critical praise as its sequels, but is just as much fun. The first half is an epic high school battle involving what a man has to do. After that we get to see exactly what it’s like to be Onizuka’s mother (answer: not all that fun), and find out what the dangers are of claiming to your gang that you’re so badass you can defeat anyone and anything. And the last two chapters are filthy and hilarious. It may seem retro, but just like GTO, its heart is in the right place.

KATE: I second both of MJ’s recommendations—GTO: 14 Days in Shonan for being much funnier than it has any right to be, and The Flowers of Evil for being more complex and real than Sundome, the manga it most closely resembles. If I had to choose one of the two, Flowers nudges out GTO simply because it’s weirder and less formulaic than 14 Days in Shonan. The ending of volume two is amazing—it gives new meaning to the term “blow-out”—and pushes the plot in a new and unexpected direction.

MICHELLE: I too recommend GTO: 14 Days in Shonan, but since that’s already been touted by my compatriots I will instead mention a title that’s due on August 7th according to Amazon, but which is absent from Midtown’s list, and that’s the debut volume of Lizzie Newton: Victorian Mysteries, a new manhwa coming from Seven Seas. I suppose its plot isn’t too original—headstrong lady is more interested in solving crime than in marrying advantageously—but it still sounds pretty fun to me!

Readers, what looks good to you this week?

Dawn of the Arcana, Vols. 3-5

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On the surface, Dawn of the Arcana looks like a Harlequin romance. Its flame-haired heroine is feisty and impetuous, torn between her feelings for the man who raised her and the man she was forced to marry. Both men are keen to “own” her — their word, not mine — and are willing to go to ridiculous extremes to prove their devotion, even setting aside their differences to honor her requests. And true to Harlequin form, the heroine frequently struggles to reconcile the circumstances of her marriage and her growing feelings for her jailer-husband.

Peer beneath its romance-novel trappings, however, and it quickly becomes clear that manga-ka Rei Toma is actually writing a pretty nifty fantasy-adventure as well, one with interesting moral dilemmas, parallels with contemporary geopolitics, and multi-layered characters whose behavior frequently deviates from the Harlequin playbook.

In volume three, for example, Nakaba’s mother-in-law attempts to dye her hair black, lest visiting dignitaries realize that the new Belquat princess hails from Senan. Toma might have used this scene to provide Caesar an opportunity to publicly declare his feelings for Nakaba, or demonstrate Nakaba’s ability to endure hazing with noble forbearance. Instead, Toma transforms this act of fairy-tale cruelty into a moment of self-actualization: Nakaba seizes a sword and defiantly gives herself a fabulous pixie cut — er, short, boyish locks — denying the queen the satisfaction of humiliating her in front of the royal family.

That act resonates throughout the next three volumes, as Nakaba sheds her girlish braid and girlish indignation in favor of a stronger, more active role in defeating Belquat’s royal family. Though Nakaba’s new ‘do leads to some predictable exchanges about “looking like a boy,” both Loki and Caesar admire her determination: red hair symbolizes more than just her country of origin, but also the struggles that helped define her as a person.

As appealing as such scenes may be, they highlight the series’ main drawback: the artwork is too plain and spare for a story with such vivid characters. Though the principal characters’ costumes are rendered in considerable detail, the supporting cast resemble Renfair extras, with faintly old-timey clothing and long tresses. Worse still are the backgrounds: with their perfect right angles and unvaried lines, they look like stills from an ancient Nintendo game, rather than a representation of a specific time and place. That sterility isn’t a deal-breaker, but it does reinforce the impression that Toma hasn’t quite developed the artistic chops to fully realize her vision.

Despite its artistic shortcomings, Dawn of the Arcana remains an appealing mixture of fantasy and romance, offering just enough sword fights, scenes of female empowerment, and emotional entanglements to appeal to fans of both genres.

Review copies provided by VIZ Media, LLC.

DAWN OF THE ARCANA, VOLS. 3-5 | BY REI TOMA | VIZ MEDIA | RATING: TEEN (13+)

Dawn of the Arcana, Vols. 3-5

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On the surface, Dawn of the Arcana looks like a Harlequin romance. Its flame-haired heroine is feisty and impetuous, torn between her feelings for the man who raised her and the man she was forced to marry. Both men are keen to “own” her — their word, not mine — and are willing to go to ridiculous extremes to prove their devotion, even setting aside their differences to honor her requests. And true to Harlequin form, the heroine frequently struggles to reconcile the circumstances of her marriage and her growing feelings for her jailer-husband.

Peer beneath its romance-novel trappings, however, and it quickly becomes clear that manga-ka Rei Toma is actually writing a pretty nifty fantasy-adventure as well, one with interesting moral dilemmas, parallels with contemporary geopolitics, and multi-layered characters whose behavior frequently deviates from the Harlequin playbook.

In volume three, for example, Nakaba’s mother-in-law attempts to dye her hair black, lest visiting dignitaries realize that the new Belquat princess hails from Senan. Toma might have used this scene to provide Caesar an opportunity to publicly declare his feelings for Nakaba, or demonstrate Nakaba’s ability to endure hazing with noble forbearance. Instead, Toma transforms this act of fairy-tale cruelty into a moment of self-actualization: Nakaba seizes a sword and defiantly gives herself a fabulous pixie cut — er, short, boyish locks — denying the queen the satisfaction of humiliating her in front of the royal family.

That act resonates throughout the next three volumes, as Nakaba sheds her girlish braid and girlish indignation in favor of a stronger, more active role in defeating Belquat’s royal family. Though Nakaba’s new ‘do leads to some predictable exchanges about “looking like a boy,” both Loki and Caesar admire her determination: red hair symbolizes more than just her country of origin, but also the struggles that helped define her as a person.

As appealing as such scenes may be, they highlight the series’ main drawback: the artwork is too plain and spare for a story with such vivid characters. Though the principal characters’ costumes are rendered in considerable detail, the supporting cast resemble Renfair extras, with faintly old-timey clothing and long tresses. Worse still are the backgrounds: with their perfect right angles and unvaried lines, they look like stills from an ancient Nintendo game, rather than a representation of a specific time and place. That sterility isn’t a deal-breaker, but it does reinforce the impression that Toma hasn’t quite developed the artistic chops to fully realize her vision.

Despite its artistic shortcomings, Dawn of the Arcana remains an appealing mixture of fantasy and romance, offering just enough sword fights, scenes of female empowerment, and emotional entanglements to appeal to fans of both genres.

Review copies provided by VIZ Media, LLC.

DAWN OF THE ARCANA, VOLS. 3-5 | BY REI TOMA | VIZ MEDIA | RATING: TEEN (13+)

Bookshelf Briefs 7/30/12

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This week, Kate, Sean, and Michelle look at recent releases from Vertical, Inc., Viz Media, and Kodansha Comics.

5 Centimeters Per Second | By Makoto Shinkai and Yukiko Senkei | Vertical, Inc. – In this skillful adaptation of Makoto Shinkai’s film, middle schooler Tohno Takaki falls in love with classmate Akari Shinohara. First love is a common manga subject, but Shinkai and collaborator Yukiko Senkei resist the temptation to idealize Tohno’s formative romantic experiences; rather, Shinkai and Senkei show us how that relationship’s gradual disintegration soured Tohno on love, making him loathe to form similar attachments to anyone else — even in adulthood. Tohno’s quest to achieve closure on this first love is carefully and beautifully observed, making 5 Centimeters Per Second a compelling read. – Katherine Dacey

GTO: 14 Days in Shonan, Vol. 3 | By Tohru Fujisawa | Vertical, Inc. – Reading a new installment of GTO: 14 Days in Shonan is a lot like listening to a comedian perform “The Aristocrats”: the humor lies less with the punchline than with the telling of the joke. In the third volume of Shonan, for example, Onizuka has his share of lady troubles. Though anyone familiar with Onizuka’s track record can anticipate the outcome of his encounters with the White Swan’s female staffers, watching Onizuka strike out with both women is excruciatingly funny. As in previous volumes, some of the jokes cross the line from raunchy but funny to just plain rude; I could have done without the cameo from Eikichi, canine sidekick to Onizuka’s supervisor at Holy Forest Academy. Still, the gags yield laughs more often than not, and the sprinkling of heart-warming dramatic moments prevent the story from becoming too silly. Still recommended. – Katherine Dacey

Oresama Teacher, Vol. 9 | By Izumi Tsubaki | VIZ Media – After a couple of not-so-great volumes, the ninth volume of Oresama Teacher represents a (likely temporary) turn for the better. It’s the first school festival in three years (a riot at the last one ruined the school’s reputation), so Mafuyu dons her (male) Natsuo guise to make sure it goes off without a hitch. I can’t claim that the plot here is really very good—the reveal about why students keep disappearing at 5 o’clock is particularly groan-inducing—but I like Natsuo, and I like Okegawa, the reluctant bancho of the school’s gang. Somehow, the stories about Mafuyu’s former gangmates bore me to tears, but Okegawa’s gang dynamics are more interesting. It probably helps that none of them are one-note masochists. Anyway, I will probably keep reading Oresama Teacher, but I think it’s gotten to the point where I’ll be checking it out from the local library rather than making it a permanent part of my collection. – Michelle Smith

Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, Vol. 5 | By Kenji Kuroda and Kazuo Maekawa | Kodansha Comics – I’ve noted before that the only people who should be reading this series are hardcore fans of the games. That said, the manga does actually do a good job at keeping the feel of those games. Both the cases in this final volume of PW:AA feel like events that could, if drawn out a bit more, have appeared somewhere in the third game or so. Indeed, it even features a Franziska Von Karma who helps out our heroes, although it’s subtle and she denies it when asked. But the humor, the mysteries, the stunned poses of overdramatic guilt from everyone: this is exactly what a media tie-in should be like. Given that the manga will never ‘fill in the blanks’ between Phoenix and Apollo, that is. It’s not groundbreaking, but it’s fun. – Sean Gaffney

Psyren, Vol. 5 | By Toshiaki Iwashiro | VIZ Media – Ah, another one of those ‘fighting’ volumes we see so often in Jump manga. It was nice to see Kabuto actually gain a useful power, though it seems to be something designed more around his cowardly personality than anything else. The opening of the volume was rather startling, showing us the gruesome deaths of the Elmore Wood kids trying to defend the Earth. Clearly we’re going to be looking at changing that future. But mostly this volume is lots of villains bragging about how resistance is useless against them, and then heroes kicking their asses. Generally, I think volumes like this should be saved and read with one of the more ‘plot’ oriented books – which Volume 6 should be, given the pattern of ‘plot – fight – plot’ the manga has established. Not bad, but clearly second-tier Jump. – Sean Gaffney

Vampire Knight, Vol. 14 | By Matsuri Hino | VIZ Media – I’ve given up on following the plot in this series. It comes out too infrequently now that it’s caught up with Japan, and so I find it impossible to keep track of anything even with the guide at the front and back. Yuki, meanwhile, has recovered from Kaname’s induced flashback, and feels closer to him in that vaguely romantic, vaguely familial way we’ve grown used to. Sara continues to be the real genuine villain here, contrasting with Kaname’s tortured ‘I do what I must’ personality. Her little yuri harem of thralls is disturbing in the extreme. But despite her rule-breaking, the real shocker in the volume is the fate of Aido’s father, which results in Yuki being arrested – no doubt to meet up with Zero again. So pretty, but so utterly confusing. – Sean Gaffney

Pick of the Week: Sakuran & X

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SEAN: It’s another tiny, tiny week at Midtown Comics, with only four titles to choose from. Given that, I will go with Sakuran from Vertical, Inc., despite it also appearing on this list two weeks ago. Comic readers who enjoy Love & Rockets type fare should give this book a try, though. It’s complete in one volume, contains some fantastic art, and has a strong plotline showing us someone who could easily use her looks and intelligence to rise to the top, and does—in spite of all her best efforts. It’s fascinating and raw, and probably the best Moyoco Anno title I’ve read to date.

MJ: I’m with Sean. I’ve been eagerly anticipating Sakuran‘s release since Vertical announced it last fall, and it’s my must-read manga this week. I can hardly wait to pick this up.

MICHELLE: See above re; Sakuran!

KATE: Since I’ve already plugged Sakuran both here and at my own site, I’ll make a pitch for the third volume of CLAMP’s X. One of the things I like best about the new VIZ 3-in-1 edition is the trim size. CLAMP’s gorgeous, swirling linework and epic battles finally have enough room to breathe, allowing readers to appreciate just how detailed (and gory!) it really is. I’m also enjoying the omnibus format; with an enormous cast and a profusion of subplots, X is the kind of story that’s best read in large installments. (I can’t keep track of the Seals and Dragons otherwise!) It’s frustrating to know that this series still doesn’t have a proper conclusion, but when the page-by-page journey is so engrossing, I almost don’t care.

Readers, what looks good to you this week?

The Best Manga You’re Not Reading: Suki

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The brilliant sociopath, the hooker with the heart of gold, and the naïf are my three least favorite character types, the first two for their tiresome ubiquity in popular culture, and the third for being tiresome: when was the last time you read a story about a sweet, innocent person that didn’t make you feel horribly manipulated or horribly jaded? Imagine my surprise, then, at discovering CLAMP’s delightfully odd series Suki: A Like Story, which revolves around a brilliant but impossibly naive teenager who trusts everyone, reads picture books, and talks to teddy bears. I thought I’d be tearing my breast in agony by the end of the first chapter; instead, I quickly succumbed to Suki‘s charms and even suppressed a sniffle or two in the final pages.

Suki succeeds, in large part, because the supporting cast has the same reaction to sixteen-year-old Hinata Asashi as the reader. Hina’s boundless enthusiasm endears her to best friends, Touko and Emi, though both roll their eyes at her inability to read social cues or grasp ulterior motives. Touko, in particular, is keen to protect her pal; as we learn in the second volume of the series, Hina has been kidnapped nine — count ’em — times over the course of her short life. (Hina’s dad is rich and willing to pay ransom for the safe return of his daughter.) Though an ordinary person might be deeply scarred by such experiences — or least more suspicious of strangers — Hina remains cheerful and oblivious to signs that a tenth abduction might be in the works.

Those signs include a string of odd coincidences: the long-vacant house next to Hina’s is suddenly occupied by a handsome young man who just happens to be Hina’s new homeroom teacher, Shiro Asou. Shiro just happens to be around whenever Hina is in need of an escort, or rescuing. And Shiro just happens to conduct clandestine meetings when the class goes on field trips. The ever-vigilant Touko quickly suspects the worst, but Hina interprets Shiro’s gruff yet solicitous behavior as concern, and develops a chaste crush on her sensei.

Watching Hina come to terms with her feelings is a painful but believable process. At first, she revels in any opportunity to spend time with Shiro, whether they’re raking leaves or walking home from school. Later, she begins to see parallels between their relationship and the relationship between two characters in a favorite picture-book series. (More on the series-within-a-series gambit in a minute.) In the final chapters of the book, Hina develops a more realistic idea of who Shiro is, eventually telling him how her feelings have evolved from youthful naivete to adult maturity. “At first, I fell in love with you because you did so many things I loved,” she confesses. “But from now on, Asou-san… whatever you do for yourself… I’ll love you for that.”

That Hina’s epiphany is facilitated, in part, by reading a children’s book may strike some readers as hopelessly twee. Suki — the name of the story-within-a-story — isn’t subtle; using bears as surrogates for Hina and Shiro, Suki charts the budding friendship between a small, chatty bear and her large, bespectacled neighbor. The parallels between the main plot and the story-within-the-story are obvious, but they serve an important purpose, reminding us that Hina is struggling to reconcile new, adult feelings with her decidedly child-like worldview.

Art-wise, Suki: A Like Story is one of CLAMP’s simplest — one might even say plainest — series. Tsubaki Nekoi’s style is much less Baroque than her cohorts’; she favors ordinary street clothes over epaulets and garter belts, and more realistic physiques over exaggerated shoulders and sharp chins. By shedding the fanciful trappings, Nekoi focuses the reader’s attention on faces, allowing us to fully register how each character is feeling. Nowhere is that more evident in the way Nekoi draws Touko. Touko is by far the most mature girl at Hina’s school, and the one most attuned to signs of adult malfeasance. Though Touko voices her concerns, the sadness in her face reveals a level of understanding that might be rooted in her own experiences, not just Hina’s:

Though Hina has a much more innocent personality than Touko, Nekoi resists the temptation to draw Hina as a child; Hina is clearly meant to be a teenager, given her size and athleticism. Hina’s transparent facial expressions, wide-eyed enthusiasm, and sudden, darting movements, however, hint at the discrepancy between her chronological and emotional ages; she bounces and skips and claps her way through the story, reacting with intense glee at even the briefest exchange with Shiro:

The art isn’t perfect by any means. Shiro’s proportions, for example, often look wrong: he has a tiny head and an enormous frame, and is so much taller than the other characters that he’d be NBA draft material in real life. Suki, the book-within-a-book, is also problematic. It’s quite possibly the dullest picture book I’ve read, a series of simple drawings accompanied by large, undifferentiated blocks of text. I certainly wasn’t expecting Sylvester and the Magic Pebble (or A Kiss for Little Bear), but the flat, unimaginative illustrations make it harder for the reader to imagine why someone Hina’s age would find the story so compelling:

Perhaps the most interesting thing about Suki is that Hina’s realistic coming-of-age story is embedded within a thriller. The suspenseful elements of Suki are handled with skill and restraint, even if they are a wee bit ridiculous. (OK, a lot ridiculous: who allows their frequently kidnapped sixteen-year-old daughter to live alone with her teddy bears?!) The few action scenes are brief but crisply executed, adding some much-needed variety in tone and pacing to the story. If the ending is a little too tidy, CLAMP avoids the trap of pandering to the reader’s expectations of what should happen; there’s a note of melancholy in that final scene, joyous though Hina may be.

Readers curious about Suki: A Like Story won’t have too much difficulty tracking down used copies on eBay or Amazon; the complete series will set you back about $20-30.

SUKI: A LIKE STORY, VOLS. 1-3 • BY CLAMP • TOKYOPOP • RATING: TEEN (13+)

The Best Manga You’re Not Reading: Suki

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The brilliant sociopath, the hooker with the heart of gold, and the naïf are my three least favorite character types, the first two for their tiresome ubiquity in popular culture, and the third for being tiresome: when was the last time you read a story about a sweet, innocent person that didn’t make you feel horribly manipulated or horribly jaded? Imagine my surprise, then, at discovering CLAMP’s delightfully odd series Suki: A Like Story, which revolves around a brilliant but impossibly naive teenager who trusts everyone, reads picture books, and talks to teddy bears. I thought I’d be tearing my breast in agony by the end of the first chapter; instead, I quickly succumbed to Suki‘s charms and even suppressed a sniffle or two in the final pages.

Suki succeeds, in large part, because the supporting cast has the same reaction to sixteen-year-old Hinata Asashi as the reader. Hina’s boundless enthusiasm endears her to best friends, Touko and Emi, though both roll their eyes at her inability to read social cues or grasp ulterior motives. Touko, in particular, is keen to protect her pal; as we learn in the second volume of the series, Hina has been kidnapped nine — count ’em — times over the course of her short life. (Hina’s dad is rich and willing to pay ransom for the safe return of his daughter.) Though an ordinary person might be deeply scarred by such experiences — or least more suspicious of strangers — Hina remains cheerful and oblivious to signs that a tenth abduction might be in the works.

Those signs include a string of odd coincidences: the long-vacant house next to Hina’s is suddenly occupied by a handsome young man who just happens to be Hina’s new homeroom teacher, Shiro Asou. Shiro just happens to be around whenever Hina is in need of an escort, or rescuing. And Shiro just happens to conduct clandestine meetings when the class goes on field trips. The ever-vigilant Touko quickly suspects the worst, but Hina interprets Shiro’s gruff yet solicitous behavior as concern, and develops a chaste crush on her sensei.

Watching Hina come to terms with her feelings is a painful but believable process. At first, she revels in any opportunity to spend time with Shiro, whether they’re raking leaves or walking home from school. Later, she begins to see parallels between their relationship and the relationship between two characters in a favorite picture-book series. (More on the series-within-a-series gambit in a minute.) In the final chapters of the book, Hina develops a more realistic idea of who Shiro is, eventually telling him how her feelings have evolved from youthful naivete to adult maturity. “At first, I fell in love with you because you did so many things I loved,” she confesses. “But from now on, Asou-san… whatever you do for yourself… I’ll love you for that.”

That Hina’s epiphany is facilitated, in part, by reading a children’s book may strike some readers as hopelessly twee. Suki — the name of the story-within-a-story — isn’t subtle; using bears as surrogates for Hina and Shiro, Suki charts the budding friendship between a small, chatty bear and her large, bespectacled neighbor. The parallels between the main plot and the story-within-the-story are obvious, but they serve an important purpose, reminding us that Hina is struggling to reconcile new, adult feelings with her decidedly child-like worldview.

Art-wise, Suki: A Like Story is one of CLAMP’s simplest — one might even say plainest — series. Tsubaki Nekoi’s style is much less Baroque than her cohorts’; she favors ordinary street clothes over epaulets and garter belts, and more realistic physiques over exaggerated shoulders and sharp chins. By shedding the fanciful trappings, Nekoi focuses the reader’s attention on faces, allowing us to fully register how each character is feeling. Nowhere is that more evident in the way Nekoi draws Touko. Touko is by far the most mature girl at Hina’s school, and the one most attuned to signs of adult malfeasance. Though Touko voices her concerns, the sadness in her face reveals a level of understanding that might be rooted in her own experiences, not just Hina’s:

Though Hina has a much more innocent personality than Touko, Nekoi resists the temptation to draw Hina as a child; Hina is clearly meant to be a teenager, given her size and athleticism. Hina’s transparent facial expressions, wide-eyed enthusiasm, and sudden, darting movements, however, hint at the discrepancy between her chronological and emotional ages; she bounces and skips and claps her way through the story, reacting with intense glee at even the briefest exchange with Shiro:

The art isn’t perfect by any means. Shiro’s proportions, for example, often look wrong: he has a tiny head and an enormous frame, and is so much taller than the other characters that he’d be NBA draft material in real life. Suki, the book-within-a-book, is also problematic. It’s quite possibly the dullest picture book I’ve read, a series of simple drawings accompanied by large, undifferentiated blocks of text. I certainly wasn’t expecting Sylvester and the Magic Pebble (or A Kiss for Little Bear), but the flat, unimaginative illustrations make it harder for the reader to imagine why someone Hina’s age would find the story so compelling:

Perhaps the most interesting thing about Suki is that Hina’s realistic coming-of-age story is embedded within a thriller. The suspenseful elements of Suki are handled with skill and restraint, even if they are a wee bit ridiculous. (OK, a lot ridiculous: who allows their frequently kidnapped sixteen-year-old daughter to live alone with her teddy bears?!) The few action scenes are brief but crisply executed, adding some much-needed variety in tone and pacing to the story. If the ending is a little too tidy, CLAMP avoids the trap of pandering to the reader’s expectations of what should happen; there’s a note of melancholy in that final scene, joyous though Hina may be.

Readers curious about Suki: A Like Story won’t have too much difficulty tracking down used copies on eBay or Amazon; the complete series will set you back about $20-30.

SUKI: A LIKE STORY, VOLS. 1-3 • BY CLAMP • TOKYOPOP • RATING: TEEN (13+)

My 5 Favorite CLAMP Manga

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I’ve read almost every CLAMP title available in English, from X (or X/1999, as we called it in back in the day) to Gate 7, and while I can’t claim to love them all, there is a core group of manga that I’ve read, re-read, and recommended to other fans. I make no special claims of excellence for these series, though I will say that these manga impressed me with their technical brilliance, genre-bending narratives, and beautiful artwork, if not their stellar endings.

MAGIC KNIGHT RAYEARTH (Dark Horse; 2 volumes)

It’s easy to forget that Magic Knight Rayearth ran in the pages of Nakayoshi, as it adheres so closely to the friendship-effort-victory template that it almost passes for a Shonen Jump title. A careful reading of MKR, however, reveals it to be a unique fusion of shojo and shonen storytelling practices. On a moment to moment basis, MKR reads like shojo: the heroines denigrate their academic prowess, swoon over the only cute boy to cross their path, and extol the value of “heart” in defeating their enemies. The intense and protracted battle scenes, however, scream Naruto — or maybe Gundam — as the girls are pushed to their physical and emotional limits while casting spells, swinging swords, and piloting giant robots. That CLAMP reconciles such tonally different genres into a coherent whole is an impressive narrative feat; no matter how many times the heroines utter dippy or painfully sincere sentiments, their tenacity in combat makes them every bit as bad-ass as Naruto, InuYasha, or Ichigo Kurasaki. -Reviewed at The Manga Critic on July 22, 2011.

LEGAL DRUG (Tokyopop; 3 volumes)

I hesitate to use the word “intertextual” to describe Legal Drug, as that term is so heavily freighted with academic associations. But intertextual it is, as Legal Drug takes place in a universe that’s been carefully mapped out in prior works such as Angelic Layer, Cardcaptor Sakura, and Suki. Major and minor characters from Chobits and Suki wander in and out of the story, providing comic relief and commentary on the budding relationship between Rikuo and Kazahaya, two handsome young errand boys for the Green Drugstore. As in xxxHolic — a series in which Rikuo and Kazahaya make guest appearances — the supernatural frequently intrudes on mundane existence, giving rise to scenes of sublime comedy and surreal grace. An odd mixture of melancholy and whimsy, with a soupçon of shonen-ai.

CLOVER (Dark Horse; 1 volume)

Clover is a gorgeous train wreck, an unholy marriage of shojo, steampunk, and science fiction that almost — almost — gels into a coherent story. The plot revolves around a class of psychically gifted individuals known as Clovers, who have been rounded up, tested, and sorted into categories based on their abilities. The most powerful — Three- and Four-Leaf Clovers — have been imprisoned, as they pose a threat to humanity.

In the small fragment of story that CLAMP completed, the Clovers’ abilities are hastily sketched; the few demonstrations of their powers are less-than-awe-inspiring, and the government’s reasons for fearing them poorly explained. But oh, the atmosphere! Anyone who remembers what it felt like to be fourteen will recognize the Clovers’ magnificent isolation, as they struggle with feelings of loneliness, rejection, and desire; that they’ve been singled out for being different (and special!) only heightens the emotional intensity of their dilemma. The artwork, too, is a feast for the eyes, with inventive layouts and sensual character designs that rank among CLAMP’s finest. Even CLAMP’s use of soggy, overwrought song lyrics as a narrative device contributes to the story’s moody beauty, if not the pantheon of great love songs.

SHIRAHIME-SYO: SNOW GODDESS TALES (Tokyopop; 1 volume)

Shirahime-Syo: Snow Goddess Tales is testament to CLAMP’s Borg-like ability assimilate any genre or artistic style and make it into their own. The three stories that comprise this slim volume are folkloric in tone and subject-matter, but expressed in a visual language that’s a beautiful synthesis of shojo manga and ukiyo print-making; the characters — with their pointy chins and artfully tousled hair — inhabit stark landscapes reminiscent of the Kishi and Shijo schools. If the overall mood is more subdued than xxxHolic or Tokyo Babylon, the stories are nonetheless moving in their directness and simplicity. The first, “On Wolf Mountain,” is the strongest of the three, exploring how one girl’s quest for revenge is transformed by the discovery that her enemy is, in fact, more courageous and generous than she ever imagined. The other stories — “The Ice Flower” and “Hiyoku no Tori” — read more like entries in Lafcadio Hearn’s Kwaidan and Other Strange Stories, but are nonetheless effective parables about sacrifice. An out-of-print gem.

X (VIZ; 6 volumes)

On many levels, X is a bad manga: the characters are underwritten, the storytelling is lazy, and the dialogue is comically awful. (Don’t believe me? Check out Party Like It’s 1999, a Tumblr blog dedicated to exploring X on a page-by-page basis.) If you can look past the 90s hair and the tin-eared dialogue, however, what you’ll discover is a fierce apocalyptic drama that boasts some of the best end-of-the-world imagery in any manga not written by Katsuhiro Otomo. Oh, and blood. Buckets of blood.

The battle scenes are kinetic and violent, executed with a gory zest that’s difficult to resist. The dream sequences, too, are suitably shocking: characters are dismembered, crucified, impaled, and engulfed in flames, often right before their loved ones’ eyes. I hesitate to suggest that X‘s body count is a victory for women, but it is a sharp and welcome rebuke to the idea that female readers strongly prefer conversation and character development to butt-kicking and carnage. – Reviewed at The Manga Critic on 10/16/11.

So, readers, I turn the floor over to you: what are your favorite CLAMP titles? Which manga do you recommend to friends and new fans? Inquiring minds want to know!

Polterguys, Vol. 1

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If you’ve ever watched Iron Chef, you know that some competitors prevail by transforming the day’s theme ingredient into dishes of astonishing originality and complexity, while others win by making everyday dishes—say, mac and cheese or fish sticks—with such consummate skill that they elevate comfort food into cuisine. I don’t know what kind of cook Laurianne Uy is, but if I had to hazard a guess based on her writing, I’d say she fell into the second category of culinary magicians. Polterguys, her print debut, isn’t astonishing for its novelty, but for its masterful presentation of a familiar story.

That story goes something like this: nerdy high school girl Bree seeks a fresh start in college. Bree soon discovers, however, that college isn’t the haven she imagined it would be. Her roommate is loud and messy, and her classmates are more interested in partying than studying. When presented with the opportunity to live on her own, off-campus, Bree jumps at the chance. The house she rents, however, is already occupied… by five male ghosts. And cute ones, at that.

What prevents Polterguys from reading like a supernatural retread of Ouran High School Host Club is Uy’s ability to adapt the reverse-harem concept to an American setting. The college town in which the story takes place bears a strong resemblance to Berkeley, CA (or perhaps Palo Alto), and the characters who inhabit the town look and sound like American college students. Her ghosts are pleasingly diverse, running the gamut from all-American jock to dread-locked scientist. Best of all, Uy’s protagonist has a depth and complexity that many shojo heroines lack; Bree is smart and capable, but her prickly behavior, fierce work ethic, and inability to relate to her peers make her seem like a real person, rather than a wallflower who’s just waiting for a hot guy to fall in love with her. (She’s also appealingly quirky, hanging a picture of Dr. Sanjay Gupta on her dorm wall for hunkspiration.)

Polterguys also benefits from a tightly scripted story. Uy handles the exposition crisply, using an emotionally charged scene to frame the action: we meet Bree, watch her move into her college dorm, then see her collapsed, sobbing, in the rain several weeks later. The story then jumps back to the beginning of her first semester, showing us the sequence of events that led to that tearful moment. Though Uy covers considerable territory in her first volume, completing one character’s story arc and establishing another (presumably to be addressed in the second volume), the narrative never feels rushed; Uy steadily increases the dramatic tension, building to third-act climax that’s both sad and satisfying.

Art-wise, Polterguys may remind readers of Dramacon and Nightschool — not because Uy’s style resembles Svetlana Chmakova’s, but because Uy, like Chmakova, employs an artistic vocabulary that’s a distillation of shojo manga conventions, rather than a slavish imitation. Uy’s character designs are a great example: though they’re heavily stylized and simplified, they owe as much a debt to Archie as they do to Ouran; the only obvious nod to shojo manga is embodied in a pair of twins who have a bad case of Manga Hair. (Both sport spiky, skunk-striped fetlocks.) In another departure from standard shojo operating procedure, Uy draws Bree as a slightly awkward, geeky figure — bespectacled and freckled, favoring Carhart pants over cute outfits — rather than a blandly pretty teen.

The Polterguys with Bree (front right). Image copyright Laurianne Uy.

Perhaps the best compliment I can pay Polterguys is that it’s an old story told well. Uy’s witty script and appealing characters leave a fresh impression, even when the plot itself does not; Polterguys is one of the most unabashedly fun new comics I’ve read this summer. Recommended.

Where to Read and Buy: Readers curious about Polterguys can read the entire first volume at Laurianne Uy’s website. Thanks to a successful Kickstarter campaign and a 2012 Xeric Grant, readers who would like to own a copy can purchase PDF and paper copies through her website. Polterguys is also available through Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and the Apple Bookstore.

Review copy provided by the artist.