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Katherine Dacey

Dawn of the Arcana, Vol. 1

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“Today, I belong to the enemy” — so begins Dawn of the Arcana, a medieval fantasy in which a feisty princess marries into a neighboring country’s royal family. Nakaba characterizes herself as “a lamb,” sacrificed by her people to help two warring kingdoms maintain a fragile peace. Her husband, the handsome but insolent Prince Caesar, initially snubs his new wife; not only does she have red hair — a commoner’s color — but she also flouts palace conventions, wearing the traditional dress of her homeland, employing a male Ajin (humanoid) as her valet, and excoriating Caesar in front of his servants.

Adding fuel to this combustible situation are Caesar’s mother, a Lady Macbeth figure who urges her son to seek the throne; King Guran, her husband; Cain, Caesar’s half-brother; and Louise, Cain’s flirty fiancee. Nakaba is keenly aware of their contempt for her, and struggles to maintain her composure as they openly mock her and threaten her faithful servant Loki. Though Loki is devoted to his mistress, he, too, poses a danger to Nakaba, as he quickly antagonizes Caesar and Guran with his impulsive behavior….

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Dawn of the Arcana, Vol. 1

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“Today, I belong to the enemy” — so begins Dawn of the Arcana, a medieval fantasy in which a feisty princess marries into a neighboring country’s royal family. Nakaba characterizes herself as “a lamb,” sacrificed by her people to help two warring kingdoms maintain a fragile peace. Her husband, the handsome but insolent Prince Caesar, initially snubs his new wife; not only does she have red hair — a commoner’s color — but she also flouts palace conventions, wearing the traditional dress of her homeland, employing a male Ajin (humanoid) as her valet, and excoriating Caesar in front of his servants.

Adding fuel to this combustible situation are Caesar’s mother, a Lady Macbeth figure who urges her son to seek the throne; King Guran, her husband; Cain, Caesar’s half-brother; and Louise, Cain’s flirty fiancee. Nakaba is keenly aware of their contempt for her, and struggles to maintain her composure as they openly mock her and threaten her faithful servant Loki. Though Loki is devoted to his mistress, he, too, poses a danger to Nakaba, as he quickly antagonizes Caesar and Guran with his impulsive behavior.

As predictable as the plot may be — would you be surprised to learn that Caesar soon becomes smitten with his ginger-haired bride? — Dawn of the Arcana proves engaging nonetheless, a heady mixture of palace intrigue and romance. Nakaba, in particular, is a winning heroine: she’s tough and principled, but savvy enough to appease Caesar and his family when it suits her own agenda. (Early in volume one, for example, Nakaba slaps Loki after a tense stand-off between the prince and the valet, telling Loki, “Disciplining my husband is my duty!”) Nakaba’s enemies are two-dimensional at best, but each displays a Joan Collinesque flair for making Nakaba’s life miserable, spitting out their lines with gusto. (“You look wretched!” the queen exclaims upon seeing Nakaba in her people’s native costume. “Typical red-hair!”)

What gives Dawn of the Arcana its real dramatic juice, however, is the way in which Rei Toma draws parallels between Nakaba’s situation and everyday teenage experience. Anyone who’s ever transferred to a new school, run the gauntlet of a junior high school cafeteria, or been hassled for wearing the “wrong” clothes will immediately recognize herself in Nakaba’s shoes. Sitting at a royal banquet, for example, Nakaba squirms under the withering stares of her new subjects. “I can feel it,” she thinks. “The hatred. The curiosity. The sneers.” In an added note of realism, Toma depicts Caesar as two-faced, the sort of fair-weather friend who openly mocks Nakaba in public — where nasty comments score points with his family —while privately acknowledging her sincerity and courage.

If I had any criticism of Arcana, it’s that the artwork is unimaginative. The character designs are attractive, with careful attention to costumes and hairstyles, but lack personality; I’d have difficulty distinguishing Rei Toma’s work from other popular shojo manga artists’. The minimalist backgrounds are likewise disappointing, doing little to situate the story in a particular time or place. Perhaps that’s a deliberate decision on Toma’s part, an attempt to make Nakaba’s story seem more universal. Given the sloppiness with which the establishing shots are rendered, however, it seems more likely that architectural details and landscapes aren’t her forte.

Still, that’s a minor criticism of an engaging story — one that benefits from a terrific premise, an intelligent heroine, and a supporting cast that wouldn’t be out of place in a juicy historical soap opera like Rome or The Tudors. Recommended.

Review copy provided by VIZ Media, LLC.

DAWN OF THE ARCANA, VOL. 1 • BY REI TOMA • VIZ • 192 pp. • RATED: TEEN (13+)

Pick of the Week: Variety

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This week’s bounty at Midtown Comics is especially diverse, though even that can’t quite satisfy the broad tastes of the Battle Robot. Check out our picks below!

KATE: Though VIZ is releasing several must-read manga this week — including Natsume Ono’s Tesoro and the tenth volume of Takehiko Inoue’s Real — my vote goes to the fourth volume of Hisae Iwaoka’s Saturn Apartments. This beautifully illustrated drama focuses on a handful of window washers aboard an enormous space station. The characters’ job grants them access to every nook and cranny of the joint, offering them a window (no pun intended) into the lives of their wealthy and eccentric clientele. At the same time, however, their job is incredibly dangerous: as Iwaoka amply demonstrates throughout the series, the characters face UV exposure, strong solar winds, and a variety of other hazards, all of which can send them plunging to their deaths. Lest I make Saturn Apartments sound like an Upton Sinclair novel set in space, rest assured that the story isn’t unrelentingly grim, thanks to Iwaoka’s playful, imaginative artwork and her lively cast of supporting characters. My only complaint about the series: VIZ doesn’t release it frequently enough!

MICHELLE: I considered picking volume two of Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon this week—for, despite the fact that Midtown Comics is not receiving it, other retailers are—but figured that enough people would buy it or had already pre-ordered it that it didn’t need my help! So, instead, I will cast my vote for volume three of Tsuta Suzuki’s A Strange and Mystifying Story, which I reviewed in the October BL Bookrack column. The series’ first two volumes depict a relationship between a sickly guy and the guardian beast that heals him, but volume three signifies a welcome new direction for the series. Here’s what I had to say about it:

“Mangaka Tsuta Suzuki is wise enough to know when a story is played out and brave enough to risk angering her fans by taking things in an entirely new direction. Akio and Setsu appear but briefly, therefore, as Suzuki devotes the first half of this volume to the absolutely adorable love story between two of Akio’s coworkers and the second half to a teenager named Tsumugi who has just encountered a guardian beast of his own.”

Even if you’re not into guardian beasts per se, the first half alone is worth the price of admission.

SEAN: Honestly, there is some manga I’m getting this week, but nothing that really makes me jump up and say Pick Of The Week. So I’m going to talk about Pogo again. There’s just so much nostalgia wrapped up in this release, even if it is only of the first two years (the comic ran 24 years before Kelly passed away). The odd passive love triangle between Pogo, Porkypine and Mam’selle Hepzibah; Howland Owl and Churchy LaFemme’s continued ability to get sucked into any incredibly stupid scheme they come across; Albert Alligator, despite being a loudmouth jerk most of the time, being an alligator you can truly believe is not eating most of the native populace; and Deacon Mushrat, who in these early strips is the closest the comic has to a villain, though in later volumes – it’ll be Vol. 3, I believe – he is easily supplanted by far more sinister characters. Much as fans of literature always point you towards the classics, fans of comics – both Japanese and American – should know their Pogo.

DAVID: I could easily pick the 10th volume of Takehiko Inoue’s splendid Real, but I’m going to favor Natsume Ono’s Tesoro for a couple of reasons. The first is that Alexander (Manga Widget) Hoffman is hosting a Manga Moveable Feast dedicated to Ono’s work. The second is that Tesoro is really charming. It contains some of Ono’s earliest professionally published works, but you could never tell if you haven’t read some of her more recent comics. And, even if you’ve read her more polished titles, there’s still plenty here to enjoy. I’m going to post a review of the book today, so I won’t go into too much detail here, but if you like charming, character-driven comics, then you should do yourself a favor and pick this up. The stories here are uniformly sweet and sometimes satisfyingly sad.

MJ: Anyone who knows me well will know that I’m probably the least likely person on earth to stand up as a champion of sports… anything, but I find myself unable to resist the opportunity to be the one to stand up for Takehiko Inoue’s Real. Here’s what I said about volume 9: “Though I’m not a big fan of sports manga … this is really my kind of sports manga. It’s dark, gritty, and mature in the very best sense of the word … though the games are definitely dramatic, they are really not the focus of the series at all. Much more time is spent off the court than on, especially in recent volumes, and most of the drama revolves around the characters’ struggles that bring them to the game, rather than the game itself.” It’s been a year since the last volume was released, so seeing more of this series in the US really is a treat.

Readers, what looks good to you this week?

Bookshelf Briefs 11/14/11

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This week, Michelle, David, Kate, & Sean take a look at new releases from Viz Media, Seven Seas, Digital Manga Publishing, and the Digital Manga Guild.

Arata: The Legend, Vol. 8 | By Yuu Watase | Viz Media – Although the back cover blurb mentions nothing aside from the fact that Arata Hinohara and friends engage in a bit of crossdressing, that’s far from being the most significant development in this installment. One of Hinohara’s companions, a boy named Kanate, has been looking for the gang of thieves that wronged him, but when he finally finds them he’s so desperate for strength enough to exact revenge that he makes a choice that will pit him against Hinohara in the future. I did not see this coming at all, but look forward to the eventual drama this will create—and really, many of Watase’s plot developments are like this. On one hand, they feel a little out-of-the-blue, but if you think about it, the groundwork has been laid and the things characters know and do make perfect sense. This is a really solid shounen fantasy and I look forward to more. – Michelle Smith

A Certain Scientific Railgun, Vol. 2 | By Kazuma Kamachi and Motoi Fuyukawa | Seven Seas – This series works much better when it’s being as grim and dramatic as possible. The best moment in the volume for me was probably the phone conversation between Uiharu and Saiten, showing not only a depth of emotion but also giving some very personal reasons for why ‘normal’ people are getting into all this Level Upper in the first place. I also quite liked the eventual explanation for Level Upper, which is quite clever and works well with the context of the series. Unfortunately, there’s also a bit of humor too, which almost always falls flat. Shirai is a good action heroine but a horrible pseudo-lesbian, and Kiyama’s constant stripping was simply tedious. Lastly, I do admit every time we see Toma and he talks about mysterious things that never come up again, I get curious to see if this is stuff I’d know about if A Certain Magical Index was licensed. That can be frustrating. Still, keep getting grittier, Railgun: you’re better off for it.– Sean Gaffney

A Certain Scientific Railgun, Vol. 2 | By Kazuma Kamachi and Motoi Fuyukawa | Seven Seas – I was inclined to write this series off after the first volume, but the second is a significant improvement. The issues posed by the fact that this is some kind of tertiary spin-off of a light-novel franchise that’s never been published in English are largely cast aside here in favor of a proper story. In a school community where psychic powers are commonplace (though not universal), someone has come up with a way for normal people to manifest abilities of their own. Unfortunately, it leaves a lot of them in a coma. The higher-ups aren’t taking the situation seriously, so our cast of super-girl hall monitors decides to investigate. What follows is a proper mystery with some nicely observed adolescent drama and solid action featuring resourceful young women who are strong and smart. The art is still just competent, but the plotting and character development are an order of magnitude better. – David Welsh

Kimi ni Todoke, Vol. 11 | By Karuho Shiina | Viz Media – Sawako and Kazehaya are finally together, and this volume mostly deals with the fallout from that. Kurumi’s defending Sawako, and Sawako’s own refusal to apologize (Kurumi noted she would have hit her if she had) is well played, and I think finally moves Kurumi out of the ‘villain’ area, though of course I may reckon without the long memory of some fans. Meanwhile, Yano is having her own self-image issues, which she keeps from her friends, and wonders if being a ‘pure’ kind person is better than one who is kind in a calculating way because it suits them. Pin points out, in the best part of the volume, that both sorts are kind, in the end. (Also, love that Yano/Kurumi ship tease there. “If I were a man” indeed…) Lastly, we see the start of the manga from Kazehaya’s perspective, and see he and Sawako going on their first date. This is the adorable half of the manga, and while I didn’t find it as gripping, it’s still very cute. Great stuff.– Sean Gaffney

Mr. Tiger and Mr. Wolf, Vol. 1 | By Ahiru Haruno | Digital Manga Publishing – I ordered this pursuant to a careful democratic process, knowing in advance that yaoi featuring characters with animal ears would have to do a very great deal to endear itself to me. It didn’t, but I certainly didn’t hate it, either. The series is basically one good-natured joke repeated over and over with reasonable portions of smut in the mix. An adult wolf adopts what he thinks is a tabby cat, but the tabby cat turns out to be a tiger… and a top! They deal with the disapproval of their respective species and Mr. Wolf’s insecurities about, of all things, his comparatively shorter lifespan. I don’t know how keen I am on inter-species conflict as coming-out metaphor in general, but Haruno uses a fairly light touch, so it ends up being sort of cute. The big problem here is repetition; Haruno seems to find her core premise funnier than I do and doesn’t exert a lot of extra effort. – David Welsh

Real, Vol. 10 | By Takehiko Inoue | Viz Media -The latest installment of Real skillfully juxtaposes two plotlines. In the first, Tomiya decides to pursue a career in basketball, while in the second, Takahashi makes a firm commitment to his physical rehabilitation after watching the Tigers and the Dreams play a scrimmage. Takehiko Inoue demonstrates an uncommon ability to make the characters’ everyday struggles as dramatic and compelling as the game play; watching Takahashi struggle up a long wheelchair ramp proves as nerve-racking as Tomiya’s bold drives to the basket. Better still, Real avoids easy uplift; Inoue resists the temptation to make his characters likable, allowing us to see them as unique individuals, rather than cardboard saints. Crisp artwork and smart dialogue complete the package. -Katherine Dacey

Tired of Waiting for Love | By Saki Aida & Yugi Yamada | Digital Manga Guild/eManga – When Kyousuke Sawaragi meets Shuuya Kasuga in prison he vows to have nothing to do with the younger man, who protects himself by doling out sexual favors. When an injured Shuuya turns up at Sawaragi’s place after his release, however, Sawaragi must examine the reason for his distance and, ultimately, help Shuuya see that there are people in the world whom he can truly trust. I must have a thing for yakuza BL or, more specifically, BL featuring yakuza characters determined to leave their past behind, because I liked this quite a lot. I was especially fond of the metaphor likening Shuuya to the stray cat he finds on the street, and how Sawaragi must choose between showing him a moment’s kindness or a lifetime’s. Plus, Yugi Yamada’s art is gorgeous and the cat is darned cute. Highly recommended. – Michelle Smith

Going Digital: November 2011

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Welcome to Going Digital, Manga Bookshelf’s monthly feature focusing on manga available for digital viewing or download. Each month, the Manga Bookshelf bloggers review a selection of comics we’ve read on our computers, phones, or tablet devices, to give readers a taste of what’s out there, old and new, and how well it works in digital form.

This month, we’ll take a look at Kodansha Comics’ new iPad app, as well as several manga published for viewing on an iOS device and in your web browser. Device, OS, and browser information is included with each review as appropriate, to let you know exactly how we accessed what we read.


Apps

Kodansha Comics | iPad app – Digital manga was the unofficial theme of this year’s New York Comic Con and one of the major announcements came from Kodansha Comics, who launched their new iPad app during the convention.

For those familiar with Viz Media’s app, Kodansha Comics’ layout will be comfortingly familiar, right down to the “Store,” “My Manga,” and “Settings” buttons at the bottom of each page. The one notable difference in layout unfortunately highlights Kodansha’s biggest weakness—one that’s hopefully temporary. While Viz features a lengthy drop-down list of titles in its app’s upper right corner, Kodansha uses a featured tab to reveal its full catalogue of… four.

Acquiring digital rights for manga is clearly a tricky business, as we’ve seen particularly with companies like Yen Press, who have no official ties to Japanese publishers, but it’s surprising to see such a small selection from a company like Kodansha, whom one might expect to have an advantage. Even now, nearly a month after the app’s launch, no new series have appeared, and it’s not difficult to imagine the bulk of Kodansha’s potential readers wandering away with nothing to read.

What Kodansha lacks in variety they make up for in pricing, as long as you’re a fan of Hiro Mashima’s Fairy Tail. While most volumes on the app sell for $4.99 apiece—comparable to the price of a used print volume in most stores—at least for now, volumes of Fairy Tail can be picked up for just $2.99 a pop. As I’ve stated before, I think $4.99 is a tad high to encourage bulk purchases, but it would be difficult to resist the opportunity to pick up, say, a ten-volume series for just $30… that is, if it’s a series one really wants to read, which brings us back once again to the question of variety.

Kodansha’s only other potentially bothersome quirk is their decision to use what I assume are progressive jpegs for the pages of their digital manga. What this means for the reader is that each time a page is “turned,” there is a moment’s delay before the next image comes into focus. See the video below for a demonstration of what I mean.

While it’s likely that one might get used to this particular idiosyncrasy over the course of a volume, I personally found it very distracting, and it’s not an issue I’ve been required to overcome for any of the other digital comics apps I’ve tried, including those from Viz and Yen Press. While those apps have provided me with an experience comparable (and perhaps even superior) to reading a print volume, this particular aspect of Kodansha’s app interrupts my experience at each page turn, making choosing digital feel like a real step down.

While Kodansha seems to have caught on to bulk pricing ahead of most manga publishers, slim selection and a clunky images may keep them from being truly competitive in a rapidly growing market. – MJ


iOS

Oishinbo A la Carte, Vol. 1, Japanese Cuisine | By Tetsu Kariya and Akira Hanasaki | Viz Manga app | iPad 2, iOS 4.3 – One of the wonderful things about new digital platforms is that they give underappreciated titles (and I must apologize in advance for the following, potentially multilayered pun) a second bite at the Apple. When Viz first released its sample of Oishinbo volumes in print, the publisher was clearly very excited about this project. They pushed it hard, and they didn’t spare any expense on production.

It’s easy to see why. The title is huge in Japan, still running in Shogakukan’s Big Comic Spirits with more than 100 volumes in print. And its subject is fascinating: food, from the humble to the transcendent, with every stop along the way. It held the promise of being a crossover title, interesting to comic fans and foodies alike. Alas, it didn’t turn out that way. But now, readers who might have been reluctant to spend $13 on a book can spend about $6 on a digital version, which gives me hope that a wider audience will discover it. It also suggests that Viz isn’t ready to give up on publishing more Oishinbo in the future, because they’ve seriously barely scratched the surface.

The series is about two newspapers, each trying to craft the be-all and end-all of gourmet menus. A brash, frankly snotty young reporter is in charge of one, and his bullying, know-it-all father is helming the other. Father and son hate each other for good reasons, as they’re both pretty obnoxious, but the passion for food and discovery on display here overcomes the toxic familial dysfunction. Like The Drops of God, Oishinbo is less of a throw-down than a know-down, and you don’t really need to care about the ongoing plot, since the books cherry-pick subject-linked stories to focus on a specific culinary theme.

I bought each volume as it came out, and they’re cherished items on my shelves, so I’m unlikely to buy a redundant digital version, but I did look at it on the app, and it looks terrific. At the very least, read the free sample chapter: it’s a nifty blend of father-son venom and gourmet education, and, if you like it, you’ll like however much of Oishinbo Viz is able to provide. – David Welsh


Web Browser

Joshi Kousei, Vol. 1 | By Towa Oshima | Futabasha, Comic High! | JManga.com | Firefox 8.0 – I’d been interested in this one, as it was a title that I’d bought all nine volumes of when it was first put out by Dr Master several years back. I knew that the translation would be different by past experience with other JManga titles, and also wondered if the scanned art was better (it wouldn’t be hard). For those unfamiliar with the title, Joshi Kousei was brought over here as High School Girls, and was a ‘shoujo comic for guys’ – i.e. a guys’ comic that starred girls talking about girl things. The main cast featured four different types of idiotic girls and their goofy lives in an all-girls’ school. (Later volumes added two more). Whether you enjoy it or not depends greatly on how much you like broad comedy that is not ashamed to revel in sex and bodily function humor. It’s not Ping Pong Club, though, mostly as the girls are still very cute, likeable flawed characters.

As for the translation, it reminded me how two different groups can take the same Japanese and come up with very different things. JManga and Dr Master’s dialogue is clearly based on the same material, but each sentence, each bit of dialogue is different. I can’t read the Japanese for comparison, but at a guess, I’d say JManga’s is the more technically accurate – Dr Master seems to have been very loose about things. That said, Dr Master’s adaptation works best, as the girls’ dialogue actually sounds like something that a high school girl would actually say – JManga’s can get too caught up in precise verbiage. I also noted that JManga’s was far more explicit than Dr Master’s – the girls are more foul mouthed here, and the chapter with the ‘remember the chemical formulas by using filthy words’ plot has words that are far more filthy.

However, the big reason that fans of the old High School Girls volumes might want to rebuy Joshi Kousei online is the art/scans. Dr Master’s scans were terrible, some of the worst I’d seen in modern manga, and looked like 3rd-generation xeroxes (they probably were). JManga’s has access to the original, and shadowing and tone actually look like what they are now. It makes a world of difference – the manga looks modern now, as opposed to twice-removed, and the girls are cuter now that we can see that’s just shadow on their faces, rather than the five-o-clock shadow it appeared to be with Dr Master. Given this, if you are a fan of High School Girls, I’d say this is worth a rebuy, especially at the current sale prices. The translation is a little awkward in places (especially early on), but the art upgrade makes up for it. Also, it’s funny. – Sean Gaffney

Otaku Type Delusional Girl, Vol. 1 | By Natsume Konjoh | Action Comics | JManga.com | Firefox 3.6.24 – “Otaku girls don’t care about reality,” explains one of the characters in Otaku Type Delusional Girl. “Anime or celebrity, they are deep within their world, loving their favorite character.” His description certainly applies to Rumi Asai, a shy, bespectacled fujoshi whose obsession with yaoi manga is all-consuming. Abe, her long-suffering boyfriend, does his best to appease her, donning cat ears to resemble Asai’s favorite character, reading all twenty-five volumes of her favorite series, and agreeing to pose in a compromising position with his pal Chiba. Why Abe agrees to such an unending stream of humiliations is a mystery: Asai is far more interested in seeing Abe kiss Chiba than in being the recipient of Abe’s affections.

Though there are a few genuinely funny moments, most of the humor revolves around the stale trope of mistaken identity. Abe and Chiba’s classmates believe the boys are romantically involved with each other, leading to numerous scenes in which one (or both) vigorously assert their heterosexuality. The literal-minded translation puts an unfortunate, homophobic spin on the jokes, even when the underlying punchlines aren’t mean-spirited. Worse still, each chapter follows the same template, allowing little opportunity for the characters to interact in fresh or surprising ways. Even the introduction of Masai, a fangirl with yuri leanings, does little to enliven the proceedings; her main role is to say and do suggestive things to Asai. (At least the fan service is equal opportunity.)

The bottom line: if you adore My Girlfriend’s a Geek, you might find Otaku Type Delusional Girl appealing, if clumsily translated. Other readers will find the story too repetitive and familiar to be genuinely funny, especially if they’ve read other series starring an obsessed fangirl. – Katherine Dacey

So I Married an Anti-Fan, Vol. 2 | By Wann | NETCOMICS.com | Windows 7, SeaMonkey 2.4.1 – I’ve long been a fan of the NETCOMICS business model, which operates more like a manga rental service than an actual storefront. Instead of selling its customers a complete volume of material that they can read as many times as they like at no extra charge, NETCOMICS provides its content in chapters and charges a mere $0.25 for each one. Readers have two days to read the material, from the time they first access it, and if, after that time elapses, they wish to read it again, they’ll have to pay again. This might be a big turnoff for some, but suffice it to say that I read this entire volume of So I Married an Anti-Fan for a whopping $1.75.

It’s hard to argue with a price like that, especially when So I Married an Anti-Fan continues to be an enjoyable read. Alas, life is not currently so rosy for its scrappy protagonist, Geunyoung Lee, who is now filming a reality series wherein she acts as manager to Joon Hoo, the celebrity who got her fired from her old job. Joon is snooty and disdainful at first and one really grows to sympathize with Geunyoung, especially when she realizes that the producers are editing the show in such a way to play up her mistakes and stir up even more of the negative sentiment she was hoping would be quelled by her genuine desire to do a good job.

Of course, it was inevitable that Joon would begin to see Geunyoung’s good qualities, namely that because she dislikes him and wants nothing from him, he is able to be “a free man” in her company. While I approve of this realization, Joon’s jealousy and actions when Geunyoung gets lost in Tokyo—he rushes off to find her and when he finds her at a friend’s place he drags her out with enough force to leave bruises—leave something to be desired. I sincerely hope the dynamic of their relationship won’t turn out to be similar to the one MJfound so troubling in Wann’s previous series for NETCOMICS. – Michelle Smith

Some reviews based on digital copies provided by the publisher.

Show Us Your Stuff: Jade’s Eclectic Manga Collection

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Welcome to the latest installment of Show Us Your Stuff, in which manga lovers share pictures of their libraries and discuss their comic-collecting habits. Today’s featured otaku is Jade, a manga buff who describes himself as an “auteur of geeky media.” He’s also one of my toughest critics — and I mean that affectionately, as Jade has often challenged my reviews with thoughtful comments that forced me to re-examine what I’d said. Take it away, Jade!

Hi, I’m Jade. I consider myself an otaku in the sense of an auteur of geeky media: comics, genre movies and books, video games, table-top RPGs, etc. If it’s dorky, I probably have some over-bearing critical opinion about it. I feel that all these stories are a pretty earnest window into the soul of a culture, so I like to give them a deeper look than the entertainment value and find a lot of value even in some stuff that’s pretty terrible. As a result, I have a ridiculously large and eclectic manga collection.

What was the first manga you bought? How long have you been collecting manga?
The first manga I ever bought were some Battle Angel Alita floppies way back when I was about fifteen and Ranma and Alita were the only manga you were likely to find anywhere….

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MMF: GeGeGe no Kitaro

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From the early 1920s through the late 1950s, before television became a fixture in Japanese homes, audiences flocked to kamishibai performances on street corners and parks around the country. A kamishibaiya (storyteller) would pedal from village to village with a butai (small wooden stage) perched on the back of his bicycle. When he arrived in a new community, he would click two sticks together to announce his presence, selling candy to the growing assembly of children. He would then show the audience a series of colorfully painted panels that told a story in much the same fashion as a comic book, narrating as he removed them one at a time from the butai.

At the height of its popularity in the 1930s, nearly five million people attended kamishibai performances every day. There were kamishibai for every demographic: sentimental tales about kittens and orphans for girls, adventure stories about masked heroes and mountaineers for boys, and pulpy mysteries and historical dramas for adults. A small army of artists and writers cranked out new installments of popular stories such as Golden Bat, Tiger Boy, Prince Gamma, and Cry of the Andes, providing an important training ground for such postwar manga-ka as Kazuo Koike, Sanpei Shirato, and Shigeru Mizuki.

A contemporary kamishibaiya performs in front of a butai.

Mizuki’s best-known comic, GeGeGe no Kitaro, traces its roots to the 1930s, when kamishibaiya around Japan performed Hakaba no Kitaro, a supernatural tale about a yokai boy who lived in a graveyard. Though Mizuki didn’t create Kitaro, he was responsible for adapting Hakaba no Kitaro into manga form, publishing his first Kitaro stories for the akabon (rental comics) market in 1959. Kitaro eventually found a home at Weekly Shonen Magazine in 1966, where the editors renamed it GeGeGe no Kitaro. Kitaro proved immensely popular, spawning animated television shows, feature-length movies, and video games, not to mention numerous manga sequels in Shonen Sunday, Shonen Action, and Shukan Jitsuwa.

Despite its immense popularity in Japan, none of the GeGeGe no Kitaro manga have been licensed for the North American market. In 2002, Kodansha International hired Ralph McCarthy to translate a handful of the Weekly Shonen Magazine stories, collecting them in three bilingual editions. Those volumes are scarce — at least on this side of the Pacific — although I was able to snag the first on eBay for less than $20. (Caveat emptor: Some Amazon retailers are asking as much as $345.00 for a single volume of the Kodansha Bilingual Comics edition.)

Looking through the pages of volume one, the story’s roots in kamishibai are apparent. The first chapter, “Ghost Train,” is a classic example of comeuppance theater: after two Tokyo businessmen abuse Kitaro and his sidekick Ratman, the men find themselves aboard a mysterious train whose final destination is Tama-reien (Tama Cemetery). The pacing suggests a story told at a campfire, allowing the audience to savor the word play (all the stops on the Tama-reien line have eerie names), the description of the passengers, and the two businessmen’s growing sense of terror. Though the pictures carry the weight of the storytelling, Mizuki uses an omniscient narrator to heighten the reader’s awareness of sound. “The skeleton-thin attendant blew his flute, and a tram came screeching into the station like a rickety hearse,” the narrator informs us. “The door rattled open like the door to a crematorium.”

The narrator serves another important purpose as well, filling in the gap between images, just as a kamishibayai would have done in the 1930s. Towards the end of the story, for example, the two men decide to leap from the train, rather than ride it to its final destination. Mizuki draws their awkward jump, then cuts to an image of the ghost train speeding along a dark track, barely distinguishable from the night sky and grassy wasteland it traverses. “Their heads cracked against something hard — rocks, perhaps,” the narrator explains. “A wail of agony splits the air, then all was silence once again.” This statement proves essential to setting up the story’s punchline, bringing the men’s ordeal to a dramatically suggestive end that is deftly clarified in the last four panels.

The second chapter, “The Leviathing,” owes a debt to such kamishibai mainstays as Golden Bat and Prince Gamma, serial adventures that freely mixed elements of science fiction, mystery, and fantasy. In “Leviathing,” Kitaro joins a scientific expedition to New Guinea, where an unscrupulous scientist injects Kitaro with a prehistoric animal’s blood, transforming Kitaro into a hairy, seven-story beast with the head of a whale and the body of a yeti.

As in “Ghost Train,” an omniscent narrator plays an important role in advancing the story, describing the changes in setting, and revealing the limitations of Kitaro’s new form. “Kitaro tried to yell, ‘Father!’, but all that came out was the Leviathing’s roar,” the narrator intones. “He put down his frightened father and walked away.”

Vital as the narration may be, it’s the artwork that underscores the poignancy of Kitaro’s situation. Mizuki draws the Leviathing in a dramatically different fashion when viewed from below than when viewed close-up: from the perspective of a human bystander, the Leviathing is monstrous, with an enormous, gaping mouth and short, grasping arms. Up close, however, he’s a gentle creature, capable of frowning, sighing, and shedding tears. These close-ups help remind us that it’s Kitaro trapped inside this destructive body, unable to communicate with humans or yokai; there’s simply no place for a giant prehistoric creature in such a thoroughly urbanized landscape, a point underscored by the military’s brutal efforts to eradicate Kitaro by driving him out to sea.

Although “The Leviathing” may strike readers as a sci-fi romp and not a ghost story, it illustrates one of the series’ most important themes: displacement. In many of the Kitaro stories, he struggles to find a place for himself — and his yokai friends — in an increasingly modernized world. As Jonathan Clements observes,

Mizuki was one of the first manga creators to deal with the rush of modernity, depicting Japanese ghosts largely as peaceful, gentle creatures forced into action by the encroachment of human civilisation on their remote, secluded places of haunting. In particular, he cited electric light as the main nemesis of spirits from the otherworld, giving his stories an elegiac quality that celebrates Japanese folktale traditions, even as he laments their passing.

Readers familiar with GeGeGe no Kitaro from its numerous film and television adaptations may find the bilingual edition a frustrating introduction to the manga, as many of the series’ colorful supporting players — Daddy Eyeball, Catchick, and The Sand Witch — play minor-to-nonexistent roles in the first volume. Readers interested in manga’s history, however, will find the first volume of the bilingual edition a fascinating window into the pre-war Japanese entertainment industry, offering English-speakers a hint of the stories and storytelling practices that once enchanted Japanese audiences on street corners around the country. Below, you’ll find a short bibliography of articles and books about Kitaro and kamishibai, should you wish to learn more about this famous character’s roots.

For Further Reading

Clements, Jonathan. “Spooky Ooky.” Schoolgirl Milky Crisis. 13 September 2010. <http://schoolgirlmilkycrisis.com/blog/?p=1710>. Accessed 11/6/11.

Kobayashi, Kenji and Kelly Yamamoto. “Kamishibai Theater.” Japanese American National Museum. <http://www.janm.org/janmkids/kamishibai.php>. Accessed 11/7/11.

Kyogoku, Natsuhiko. “Afterword.” GeGeGe no Kitaro, Vol. 1. Trans. Ralph F. McCarthy. New York: Kodansha International, 2002. 123-25.

McCarthy, Helen. “Spooky Kitaro’s Sixth Generation.” Suite 101. 6 May 2008. <http://helen-mccarthy.suite101.com/spooky-kitaros-sixth-generation-a52997>. Accessed 11/6/11.

Nash, Eric. Manga Kamishibai: The Art of Japanese Paper Theater. New York: Harry N. Abrams, 2009.

Manga Artifacts: GeGeGe no Kitaro

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From the early 1920s through the late 1950s, before television became a fixture in Japanese homes, audiences flocked to kamishibai performances on street corners and parks around the country. A kamishibaiya (storyteller) would pedal from village to village with a butai (small wooden stage) perched on the back of his bicycle. When he arrived in a new community, he would click two sticks together to announce his presence, selling candy to the growing assembly of children. He would then show the audience a series of colorfully painted panels that told a story in much the same fashion as a comic book, narrating as he removed them one at a time from the butai.

At the height of its popularity in the 1930s, nearly five million people attended kamishibai performances every day. There were kamishibai for every demographic: sentimental tales about kittens and orphans for girls, adventure stories about masked heroes and mountaineers for boys, and pulpy mysteries and historical dramas for adults. A small army of artists and writers cranked out new installments of popular stories such as Golden Bat, Tiger Boy, Prince Gamma, and Cry of the Andes, providing an important training ground for such postwar manga-ka as Kazuo Koike, Sanpei Shirato, and Shigeru Mizuki.

A contemporary kamishibaiya performs in front of a butai.

Mizuki’s best-known comic, GeGeGe no Kitaro, traces its roots to the 1930s, when kamishibaiya around Japan performed Hakaba no Kitaro, a supernatural tale about a yokai boy who lived in a graveyard. Though Mizuki didn’t create Kitaro, he was responsible for adapting Hakaba no Kitaro into manga form, publishing his first Kitaro stories for the akabon (rental comics) market in 1959. Kitaro eventually found a home at Weekly Shonen Magazine in 1966, where the editors renamed it GeGeGe no Kitaro. Kitaro proved immensely popular, spawning animated television shows, feature-length movies, and video games, not to mention numerous manga sequels in Shonen Sunday, Shonen Action, and Shukan Jitsuwa.

Despite its immense popularity in Japan, none of the GeGeGe no Kitaro manga have been licensed for the North American market. In 2002, Kodansha International hired Ralph McCarthy to translate a handful of the Weekly Shonen Magazine stories, collecting them in three bilingual editions. Those volumes are scarce — at least on this side of the Pacific — although I was able to snag the first on eBay for less than $20. (Caveat emptor: Some Amazon retailers are asking as much as $345.00 for a single volume of the Kodansha Bilingual Comics edition.)

Looking through the pages of volume one, the story’s roots in kamishibai are apparent. The first chapter, “Ghost Train,” is a classic example of comeuppance theater: after two Tokyo businessmen abuse Kitaro and his sidekick Ratman, the men find themselves aboard a mysterious train whose final destination is Tama-reien (Tama Cemetery). The pacing suggests a story told at a campfire, allowing the audience to savor the word play (all the stops on the Tama-reien line have eerie names), the description of the passengers, and the two businessmen’s growing sense of terror. Though the pictures carry the weight of the storytelling, Mizuki uses an omniscient narrator to heighten the reader’s awareness of sound. “The skeleton-thin attendant blew his flute, and a tram came screeching into the station like a rickety hearse,” the narrator informs us. “The door rattled open like the door to a crematorium.”

The narrator serves another important purpose as well, filling in the gap between images, just as a kamishibayai would have done in the 1930s. Towards the end of the story, for example, the two men decide to leap from the train, rather than ride it to its final destination. Mizuki draws their awkward jump, then cuts to an image of the ghost train speeding along a dark track, barely distinguishable from the night sky and grassy wasteland it traverses. “Their heads cracked against something hard — rocks, perhaps,” the narrator explains. “A wail of agony splits the air, then all was silence once again.” This statement proves essential to setting up the story’s punchline, bringing the men’s ordeal to a dramatically suggestive end that is deftly clarified in the last four panels.

The second chapter, “The Leviathing,” owes a debt to such kamishibai mainstays as Golden Bat and Prince Gamma, serial adventures that freely mixed elements of science fiction, mystery, and fantasy. In “Leviathing,” Kitaro joins a scientific expedition to New Guinea, where an unscrupulous scientist injects Kitaro with a prehistoric animal’s blood, transforming Kitaro into a hairy, seven-story beast with the head of a whale and the body of a yeti.

As in “Ghost Train,” an omniscent narrator plays an important role in advancing the story, describing the changes in setting, and revealing the limitations of Kitaro’s new form. “Kitaro tried to yell, ‘Father!’, but all that came out was the Leviathing’s roar,” the narrator intones. “He put down his frightened father and walked away.”

Vital as the narration may be, it’s the artwork that underscores the poignancy of Kitaro’s situation. Mizuki draws the Leviathing in a dramatically different fashion when viewed from below than when viewed close-up: from the perspective of a human bystander, the Leviathing is monstrous, with an enormous, gaping mouth and short, grasping arms. Up close, however, he’s a gentle creature, capable of frowning, sighing, and shedding tears. These close-ups help remind us that it’s Kitaro trapped inside this destructive body, unable to communicate with humans or yokai; there’s simply no place for a giant prehistoric creature in such a thoroughly urbanized landscape, a point underscored by the military’s brutal efforts to eradicate Kitaro by driving him out to sea.

Although “The Leviathing” may strike readers as a sci-fi romp and not a ghost story, it illustrates one of the series’ most important themes: displacement. In many of the Kitaro stories, he struggles to find a place for himself — and his yokai friends — in an increasingly modernized world. As Jonathan Clements observes,

Mizuki was one of the first manga creators to deal with the rush of modernity, depicting Japanese ghosts largely as peaceful, gentle creatures forced into action by the encroachment of human civilisation on their remote, secluded places of haunting. In particular, he cited electric light as the main nemesis of spirits from the otherworld, giving his stories an elegiac quality that celebrates Japanese folktale traditions, even as he laments their passing.

Readers familiar with GeGeGe no Kitaro from its numerous film and television adaptations may find the bilingual edition a frustrating introduction to the manga, as many of the series’ colorful supporting players — Daddy Eyeball, Catchick, and The Sand Witch — play minor-to-nonexistent roles in the first volume. Readers interested in manga’s history, however, will find the first volume of the bilingual edition a fascinating window into the pre-war Japanese entertainment industry, offering English-speakers a hint of the stories and storytelling practices that once enchanted Japanese audiences on street corners around the country. Below, you’ll find a short bibliography of articles and books about Kitaro and kamishibai, should you wish to learn more about this famous character’s roots.

For Further Reading

Clements, Jonathan. “Spooky Ooky.” Schoolgirl Milky Crisis. 13 September 2010. <http://schoolgirlmilkycrisis.com/blog/?p=1710>. Accessed 11/6/11.

Kobayashi, Kenji and Kelly Yamamoto. “Kamishibai Theater.” Japanese American National Museum. <http://www.janm.org/janmkids/kamishibai.php>. Accessed 11/7/11.

Kyogoku, Natsuhiko. “Afterword.” GeGeGe no Kitaro, Vol. 1. Trans. Ralph F. McCarthy. New York: Kodansha International, 2002. 123-25.

McCarthy, Helen. “Spooky Kitaro’s Sixth Generation.” Suite 101. 6 May 2008. <http://helen-mccarthy.suite101.com/spooky-kitaros-sixth-generation-a52997>. Accessed 11/6/11.

Nash, Eric. Manga Kamishibai: The Art of Japanese Paper Theater. New York: Harry N. Abrams, 2009.

Pick of the Week: X

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With power finally restored to the entire Battle Robot, everyone’s on board with a pick this week, though the robot’s leaning heavily in one particular direction.

MJ: We’ve got an odd assortment of manga coming it to Midtown Comics this week. I have half a mind to recommend volume two of Bandai’s Tales of the Abyss: Asch the Bloody since I had such a surprisingly enjoyable experience with the first. But pretty pictures and beautiful production win my heart this week, as I choose the first of Viz’s 3-in-1 editions of CLAMP’s shoujo battle-fest, X. Admittedly, I’m a much bigger fan of X‘s shorter, more intimate predecessor, Tokyo Babylon, and I think I’ve failed to appreciate the allure of X‘s larger, sweeping drama and penchant for destruction. But with this new 3-in-1, Viz has provided a package that’s impossible for me to ignore. This book is gorgeous, with its thick, glossy cover (love the new, minimalist design), crisp, white paper, and delicious color pages preceding each volume. It’s a delight to behold, and I am really looking forward to giving X a second chance to win me over with these particular attributes in its favor.

DAVID: It’s strange that I’m finding myself so drawn to CLAMP as I settle into middle age. That seems just wrong, but there’s no denying that it’s so. I’m utterly taken with Gate 7 (also Dark Horse), and now I find myself seconding MJ’s choice of the X 3-in-1 from Viz. As I’ve noted, it’s probably the CLAMP-iest thing I’ve ever seen, but it’s made somewhat special by the fact that there’s tons and tons of violence. It probably won’t hold a place of honor on my shelves in years to come, but I’ll certainly read the rest of it.

KATE: Looking at this week’s shipping list makes me feel like I took a ride in Mister Peabody’s WABAC machine, with new volumes of X and InuYasha arriving on store shelves. And though I’m tempted to be a contrarian and recommend, say, Yakuza Cafe (DMP) just for the sake of variety, my vote also goes for X. The new edition boasts a new translation, a bigger trim size, and almost six hundred pages of story per volume, all of which enhance the reading experience. And if you’re the kind of reader who cares passionately about extras, you’ll be pleased to discover that VIZ has included a generous selection of glossy, full-color pinups from various points in the series’ run.

MICHELLE: I certainly intend to snap up the X 3-in-1 edition, but since ample reasons for doing so have been ably supplied by my cohorts, I’ll cast my vote for the second volume of Kazuma Kodaka’s Bad Teacher’s Equation. Okay, so I haven’t exactly finished reading the first volume yet—these books are chunky!—but I am a big fan of Kodaka’s Kizuna, so I’m familiar with her style. In looks and execution, Kizuna is very different from most of the other BL coming out in English, and I am excited to dig deeper into Bad Teacher’s Equation and follow up with Border, two Kodaka series more recently announced by DMP.

SEAN: Too many people have already picked X. So I’m exercising my right to say I had no power last week and picking a title from last week’s list, namely the 11th volume of Kimi ni Todoke. As I noted in my post on last week’s books, it’s always a treat when a couple get together and the series continues on, seeing how well their relationship holds up after the big fireworks. Plus the supporting cast of this series is top notch – this volume in particular has one of my favorite Yano scenes in the whole series, and unsurprisingly it also involves Pin. Just really nice and heartwarming, in all the best ways.

Readers, what looks good to you this week?

Bookshelf Briefs, 11/7/11

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

Black Bird, Vol. 11 | By Kanoko Sakurakoji | VIZ Media – Reading the newest installment of Black Bird, I can see why the series has been a perennial bestseller: the cast is comprised of achingly beautiful young men in yukatas, all of whom are captivated by the heroine. The story, too, has crack potential, as it involves demon clan warfare, fragile political alliances, age-old prophecies, and sex. What’s missing is a compelling heroine. Eleven volumes into Black Bird, Misao remains as helpless as she did in the very first chapters, enduring Kyo’s grouchy, possessive behavior, an enemy’s memory-erasing spells, and other demons’ violent attempts to drink her blood. Adding insult to injury is the author’s insistence that Kyo is really a good, soulful person underneath his brusque exterior, a side of his personality that only Misao can see. As someone who’s old enough to have dated a few jerks, I find that kind of relationship as tedious on paper as it is in real life, even if the lead character is a handsome male tengu. – Katherine Dacey

A Bride’s Story, Vol. 2 | By Kaoru Mori | Yen Press – I had argued that I found the first volume of A Bride’s Story very well-done, but a bit cold, like looking at a piece of art in a museum. I’m pleased to say that Volume 2 draws me in a lot more. Amir still tends to be a cipher at times, but the author compensates for that by pairing her with more emotional characters – the hotheaded and perpetually frustrated Pariya, or her youthful husband Karluk, with whom she gets probably the best two scenes in the book. But there’s more action here as well, as Amir’s family come to take her back so they can forge a better relationship with less savory neighbors. Seeing the townspeople riding up to protect her is awesome – indeed, Amir has trouble taking it all in. Even Dr. Smith, who seemed to be the comedy Westerner in Volume 1, gets some excellent depth here, and I do wonder if we’ll be seeing more of him in future volumes. Indeed, the author’s notes hint we might see the focus change to other brides? I hope not – Amir’s story still needs closure.– Sean Gaffney

Fairy Tail, Vol. 15 | By Hiro Mashima | Kodansha Comics – As with many shonen mangas of its type, this volume of Fairy Tail is taken up with a lot of battles, as the Laxus fights come to their natural conclusion. This gives Erza another chance to be awesome, of course, and shows that Fairy Tail’s camaraderie and willingness to work together will always trump a quest for sheer power like Laxus has gone through. But I expect, despite the fact that the fights are of decent quality and the characterization decent, everyone will be discussing the Ass Pull of a character return we get with Mystogan’s real identity. If it were deconstructed, such as with Cross Game, it might be decent, but we get the reveal and then the character simply walks away – the whole scene reads like a ratings grabber for sweeps time, and sucks the soul out of much of the book. Oh well, the rest of it is fairly solid. I hope the arc wraps up in the next volume, though. – Sean Gaffney

Grand Guignol Orchestra, Vol. 5 | By Kaori Yuki | VIZ Media – The fifth and final volume of Grand Guignol Orchestra is a gorgeous mess. Though Kaori Yuki’s artwork remains as attractive as ever, she still hasn’t mastered the art of bringing her stories to a satisfying conclusion. The series’ penultimate scene is a long, confusing sequence of double-crosses, overwrought speeches, and bolt-from-the-blue revelations that make little sense even within the parameters of the Grand Guignol universe. A more sedate epilogue ties up the loose ends, hinting of what Yuki is capable of doing when she dials down the histrionics. The volume is rounded out with a lengthy story, “Camelot Garden,” which quotes liberally from Tennyson’s “The Lady of Shallot,” to diminishing returns. – Katherine Dacey

Natsume’s Book of Friends, Vol. 10 | By Yuki Midorikawa | VIZ Media – The latest volume of Natsume’s Book of Friends features two longer stories. In the first, “False Friend,” a bully from Natsume’s past returns when he suspects that he’s had an encounter with the supernatural, while in the second, “The Harvest Festival,” Natsume must rescue a guardian spirit who’s been sealed inside a rock. Both stories are well-executed, with crack pacing, memorable demons, and just enough ambiguity to keep the reading guessing at the outcome, even though Natsume’s fundamental decency is never in doubt. As an added bonus, Yuki Midorikawa’s artwork is improving steadily with each volume, yielding some simple but astonishing images. Recommended. – Katherine Dacey

Pandora Hearts, Vol. 7 | By Jun Mochizuki | Yen Press – After a seemingly random detour to Lutwidge Academy (the school attended by Oz’s sister) provides information about “the tragedy of Sablier,” Pandora Hearts resumes its original mission, with Oz determined to learn the truth about why he was sent to the Abyss and his companion, Alice, renewing her search for her missing memories, even though they may be too traumatic to bear. Sometimes this series is hard to follow—this volume certainly contains a few abrupt segues—but it continues to deliver on character arcs. Sure, Oz’s desire to grow stronger pretty generic, but I quite like the plight of his childhood friend, Gilbert, who faces a future where his aid is less useful to Oz, and newish character Elliot has some intriguing potential as well. Add in a bit of background for enigmatic and eccentric Break, and this is quite a satisfying volume! – Michelle Smith

Soul Eater, Vol. 7 | By Atsushi Ohkubo | Yen Press – This volume is less exciting than the previous ones, mostly as the last arc has ended and the author is taking his time setting up the new one. This is not to say there is nothing of interest, though. Soul Eater continues to appeal to me for its artistic design, which manages to combine funny and creepy better than anyone else – even Franken Fran should take lessons from Ohkubo. After Medusa, Arachnae seems underwhelming so far, but she’s only just established herself. Not to mention that Medusa – or at least hallucinations of her – isn’t far away, and I wonder what Stein will do. The biggest surprise of the series to date, though, is seeing Crona join the side of the good guys – despite remaining a twitching mess, and still having that double personality of a weapon inside him/her. It’s a testament to Maka’s friendship building skills that Crona’s trying at all. And it wouldn’t be Soul Eater without at least one drop-dead funny scene – Marie’s introduction, and her decision to marry a toilet, immediately tells us that she is a Christmas Cake of the finest kind, and I hope she gets more to do later. Great fun, even if this volume is ‘shifting gears’ more than ‘constant thrills’. – Sean Gaffney

The Story of Saiunkoku, Vol. 5 | By Kairi Yura and Sai Yukino | VIZ Media – Much as I love this series, this volume is kind of a mess in terms of storytelling. It starts with a pleasant-enough but forgettable sequence with its heroine, Shurei, suffering from a cold and her devoted circle of men trying to make her feel better while dealing with their own rivalries. It’s cute, but it feels like a side story in a series where volumes usually launch strongly. The main story introduces a heap of plot elements too quickly, from the impending civil service exam to the nation’s criminal underworld to an admittedly awesome courtesan of Shurei’s acquaintance. The characters still shine through all of the clutter, but I missed the focused clarity of previous story arcs. It felt less like a complete reading experience than previous volumes. On the bright side, Yura does maintain the admirable level of prettiness she’s always brought to her illustrations. – David Welsh

Yotsuba&!, Vol. 10 | By Kiyohiko Azuma | Yen Press – The tag line of this series, “Enjoy everything,” pretty much says it all. Readers get the opportunity to follow an energetic, quirky kid through the average moments of her life. She hangs out with friends, family, and neighbors. She invents games, makes pancakes, goes shopping, and occasionally misbehaves. Azuma’s grasp of kid logic elevates the material from being simply identifiable to hitting some wonderful comic highs. When she gets a picture book with animal stickers in it, her delight manifests itself very specifically: “Ohhh… this is a lifesaver.” That’s funny, because it isn’t something you’d expect a kid to say, but it’s extra funny, because you can absolutely see a kid saying it. That’s Azuma’s specialty: a grounded approach that finds the little bits of weirdness in everyday life, going easy on the outright sentiment while still investing everything with a heartfelt quality. It’s kind of magical. – David Welsh

Yotsuba&!, Vol. 10 | By Kiyohiko Azuma | Yen Press – It’s hard to know how to review a volume of Yotsuba&!. I mean, it’s just sweet, y’know? There’s just lots of moments in this volume that are simply worth reading. Jumbo’s reaction to seeing photos of Asagi and Koiwai at the balloon fair; Asagi’s casual cruelty towards Fuuka when she lends Yotsuba the medicine ball; Fuuka showing that she may actually be the most eccentric one in the cast, rather than Yotsuba; Yotsuba’s frustration over not making perfect pancakes, and Miura’s frustration later on knowing that she may have to play Danbo FOREVER. The best chapter, though, is the one where Yotsuba panicked after breaking some dishes, lies about how it happened. What follows is pure beauty, with Yotsuba digging herself deeper and deeper and her father managing to brilliantly resolve things without yelling at her – in fact, his passive terrifying may be the best deterrent there is. Heck, even Yanda is tolerable here (though he’s still a jerk). Great series.– Sean Gaffney

Yotsuba&!, Vol. 10 | By Kiyohiko Azuma | Yen Press – It’s been nearly a year since I last read a volume of Yotsuba&!, and that was definitely way too long. I dove into this volume with relish and happily found that the first chapter, “Yotsuba & Playtime,” is quintessential Yotsuba&!, showing the title character at her most imaginative and her father at his most patient, even when her behavior borders on obnoxious. And, indeed, the fact that Yotsuba is capable of sulking and lying actually makes her adventures all the more wonderful because, in addition to ringing true, these moments give her father a chance to shine as he makes sure she learns the right lessons. He’s an intriguing guy and a terrific dad and I hope that whenever this series comes to an end we’ll get a glimpse of the kind of grown-up Yotsuba turned out to be thanks to his loving guidance. – Michelle Smith

Show Us Your Stuff: Myrah’s Tower of CLAMP

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Welcome to the latest installment of Show Us Your Stuff! Today’s contributor is Myrah, an educator-in-training who’s passionate about books, baking, and CLAMP. Her collection is modest but catholic, and includes some rare Antique Bakery doujinshi. Here’s what this very busy woman had to say about her growing manga library.

Hello! I’m an undergraduate working on a major in English and minors in Education and Asian Studies. I’ve always enjoyed reading and writing and I’ve wanted to be a teacher for as long as I can remember. My decision to pursue Asian Studies is a more recent thing, partly influenced by my love for manga, and partly by my general interest in World History. I’m working on my Chinese and will hopefully study abroad in China for a semester in the near future.

I don’t have much free time between class and working as a teacher’s aide, but when I do I like to bake yummy things, ride my bike, and pet my cats. Besides my manga collection, I also have a rather large library of novels, anthologies, plays, non-fiction, and other graphic novels. Simply put, I love books!

What was your first manga?
That would be Sailor Moon, which is kind of strange because I never saw the anime. My sister (who doesn’t like books, let alone manga) borrowed the first few volumes from a girl on her school bus, and since I read everything I came across back then, I gobbled them up. I wound up buying most of the series, but sadly sold it years ago. I was very happy to hear Kodansha would be re-releasing it. (But I still haven’t seen the anime…)…

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Pick of the Week: Sayonara, Mardock, Dorothy

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Dark Horse and Kodansha Comics dominate this week at Midtown Comics. Check out the Battle Robot’s picks below!

SEAN: It’s a fairly small week this time round, and so I’m glad to devote my pick of the week to the 11th volume of Sayonara, Zetsubou-sensei. There are lots of comedic manga out there that use gags to drive their humor, but they always seem troubled by silly things like plot and character development. Zetsubou has none of that, and so is free to do anything anytime it wants – the main character has been murdered several times by now. And, like the best negative continuity series, it doesn’t cause you to stop caring – Chiri is still fun to watch even if she’s an insane shovel-killer, just as it never gets old seeing Itoshiki moan on about his latest modern issue. And even if it’s packed with obscure Japanese pop-culture references every week, it’s still funny without knowing what they are. Glad it’s hit double-digits.

MJ: It is a small week indeed, and though there are a few things on the list I plan to buy (including Sayonara, Zetsubou-sensei), I’ll give my pick this week to the second volume of the manga adaptation of Mardock Scramble. Here’s what I said about the first volume: “Novel adaptations are hit-and-miss with me.Too often, I think they try to rush the story, or try too hard to be visually thrilling (especially in terms of fanservice) when really they just need to practice good storytelling. But I’m on the edge of my seat with this one. There’s still a lot to be revealed, and mangaka Yoshitoki Oima has left us with quite a bit of mystery (and a pretty big cliffhanger) at the end of the series’ first volume, but I’ve been given enough to be pretty well hooked.” I’m pretty anxious to pick this up.

KATE: Since I’m not following any of the titles on the list, I’m going to recommend the second issue of Skottie Young and Eric Shanower’s Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz (Marvel). Young and Shanower’s Oz comics have been a revelation: they follow the plot and spirit of the original Oz novels, but the playful artwork, vivid color palette, and brisk pacing really bring these books to life — in fact, I’d much rather read these Marvel adaptations than the source material that inspired them! If the title of Young and Shanower’s latest collaboration doesn’t ring a bell, you might find this Wikipedia entry helpful; it was the fourth book in Baum’s series, and certain plot details were inspired by the 1906 San Francisco earthquake. It isn’t the best or most interesting of the Oz books, but the comic-book adaptation is delightful nonetheless.

MICHELLE: And I’ll bring us back ’round full circle by seconding Sean’s pick of Sayonara, Zetsubou-sensei‘s eleventh volume. I just completed a lengthy catch-up effort with this quirky comedy and am looking forward to remaining current henceforth. As Sean notes, Itoshiki’s various rants are still amusing even when one doesn’t catch many of the esoteric references, but I like the series best when it’s at its most universal. Recent volumes have supplied ample chapters that anyone can relate to, and I hope the trend continues in future. Koji Kumeta’s clean and stylish art is also a treat, as are most of the recurring gags. I still feel really sorry for that poor dog, though.

Readers, what looks good to you?

Bookshelf Briefs 10/24/11

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This week, David, Kate, MJ, Michelle, & Sean take a look at recent releases from NBM/Comics Lit, Viz Media, Kodansha Comics, and Vertical, Inc.

Black Jack, Vol. 16 | By Osamu Tezuka | Vertical, Inc. – One of the many great things about Black Jack is that it keeps giving me new reasons to praise it, even in its penultimate volume. The quality that really asserts itself in this volume is the tremendous variety of story types Tezuka provides. There’s sentimental romance, creepy revenge drama, potentially lethal hubris, fraternal turmoil, and, in a dazzling, extra-long piece, a blend of baffling medical mystery, religious argument, and geopolitical drama all in one. It’s hard to think of a series that provides better volume-to-volume value than Black Jack, especially when you consider Tezuka’s bodacious skills as an entertainer and his seemingly limitless ambition as an artist. Yes, his long-form pieces are breathtaking, but you get a fuller sense of his genius when you see what he can do with 20-odd pulp-infused pages. And you get a great deal of entertainment along the way. What more could you ask? – David Welsh

Blue Exorcist, Vol. 4 | By Kazue Kato | VIZ Media – Unusually for a Jump manga, the fighting is not really drawing me into Blue Exorcist – it’s straight out of the Boy’s Book of Shonen. What is interesting here is Rin’s continual struggle against revealing his powers, and the reaction of everyone else once they do get revealed. It’s clearly a long-term plot – to our surprise, his friends do not immediately say “Oh, it’s OK, you’re just Rin to us”, but seem genuinely unnerved that Rin is the son of Satan. It’s a reminder that this is not something to be taken lightly in this series, and that Satan is not just a wacky final end boss. Meanwhile, Mephisto continues to show why he’s one of the better ‘playing all sides against one another’ long planners, and Shura and Yukio have a nicely developing relationship. As always, it’s the characters that make a series likeable. – Sean Gaffney

House of Five Leaves, Vol. 4 | By Natsume Ono | VIZ Media – With a delicate web of relationships already in place, it doesn’t immediately strike me as profitable for Ono to introduce a significant newcomer to her beguilingly battered gang of kidnappers. Given the new character’s puckish youth, it’s not unreasonable to detect a bit of Cousin Oliver Syndrome in play. But while the arrival of Ginta, a self-declared negotiator, seems a bit improvisational, it ends up moving the narrative forward in some satisfying and unexpected ways. Ginta is bright and observant, but he’s also got a reservoir of bitterness and distrust, so he fits right in with the damaged goods of the Five Leaves. He also disrupts their very controlled methodology and adds to the mounting worries of their leader, Yaichi. My conclusion is that, while Ono may not have every beat and twist of this story mapped out in advance, she’s got a very sure hand on the tone that story evokes. Highly recommended. – David Welsh

Mameshiba ♥ Winter | By Traci N. Todd and Thomas Flintham | VIZ Media – Based on the original characters by Sukwon Kim, Mameshiba ♥ Winter follows the adventures of a collection of adorable creatures (some kind of cross between beans and dogs) as they attempt to build the perfect snow castle. This is a children’s picture book, short on plot (well, short in general) and geared towards activity more than reading overall. Only twelve pages long, the real focus of the book is a pop-up snow castle at the end and a selection of pop-out Mameshiba, complete with ornamental stickers. None of the Mameshiba are well-introduced here, so previous familiarity with the franchise is recommended, especially for kids on the older end of its target audience, who might otherwise wondering who all these characters are. Though the story seems unsubstantial, even for a picture book, it’s pretty difficult not to be charmed by the super-cute Mameshiba. Lighthearted activity for a snowy afternoon. – MJ

Psyren, Vol. 1 | By Toshiaki Iwashiro | VIZ Media – Gantz with training wheels — that’s how I’d describe this mediocre addition to the Shonen Jump line. Like Gantz, Psyren deposits a large and varied cast of characters in an alternate reality, forcing them to participate in a contest reminiscent of a video game. The winners live to play another day; the losers die in gruesome fashion, often after disregarding advice from the story’s youthful hero. Though Psyren isn’t nearly as slick or violent as Gantz, it does have one big advantage over its seinen big brother: Amamiya, who turns out to be one of the toughest, smartest participants in the game, showing her male peers that true grit isn’t necessarily about physical strength or speed (though she’s pretty handy with a sword). The art is serviceable, but not particularly memorable, an observation that could be extended to the script and characters as well. – Katherine Dacey

Skip Beat!, Vol. 25 | By Yoshiki Nakamura | VIZ Media – First off, thanks to Viz for not licensing Tokyo Crazy Paradise, so I can make that “from the creator of” joke for at least another few months. Now for the main event. Clearly Kyoko and Ren will be the final couple whenever Skip Beat! decides to end, but I have to admit I still find Sho the more fascinating of the two lead males. I don’t *like* him more than Ren, but there’s a fantastic cunning to him, and he’s never more at his best than when he’s burning with jealous hatred. His move here to get Kyoko to think of only him is brilliant in its godawful dickishness, and Ren’s response, whiole very sweet, doesn’t quite pack the same emotional punch. I actually preferred Ren threatening Kyoko – a nice reminder of his true feelings. All this plus some cute Moko scenes. Now that Valentine’s is over, what’s next? – Sean Gaffney

Stargazing Dog | By Takashi Murakami | NBM Comics Lit – I may be a cat person, but I am certainly not immune to the touching tale of a good-hearted and grateful dog who is faithful to his master until the very end. Christened “Happie” by the little girl who plucked him out of a cardboard box, the cheerful dog chronicles the gradual changes in his owners’ lives, culminating in a divorce and a seaward journey with “Daddy,” who gradually loses what little possessions he has left. The outcome of the story is made clear from the beginning, but that doesn’t make what transpires any less poignant. My one complaint—setting aside the various typos plaguing the volume—is that NBM chose to flip the art. Backwards signage and sound effects are distracting enough on their own, but when dialogue expressly states that they’re keeping the sea on their left and when it is subsequenly shown to be on their right, it’s downright annoying. – Michelle Smith

The Wallflower, Vol. 26 | By Tomoko Hayakawa | Kodansha Comics – In case anyone is still reading this in order to get some romantic resolution, please. Stop. You’re only hurting yourself. There is no development here, the author has admitted she has no idea how to romantically resolve anything, and all we have is comedy hijinks we’ve seen before. That said, it’s pleasant enough – there’s nothing egregiously bad about this volume, and once you place your desires in park, it can be quite fun. The best chapter is probably the final one, where some boys from class use Sunako’s creepiness as part of a plan to excuse their bad grades – it’s a nice parody of the power of parent organizations. The worst chapter is the one with Sunako’s aunt, which contains not one thing we haven’t seen before. If you buy things out of pure inertia, you’ll still enjoy this. If you don’t, you likely dropped it long ago. – Sean Gaffney

Gate 7, Vol. 1

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I have good news and bad news for CLAMP fans. The good news is that Gate 7 is one of the best-looking manga the quartet has produced, on par with Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicles and xxxHolic. The bad news is that Gate 7‘s first volume is very bumpy, with long passages of expository dialogue and several false starts. Whether you’ll want to ride out the first three chapters will depend largely on your reaction to the artwork: if you love it, you may find enough visual stimulation to sustain to your interest while the plot and characters take shape; if you don’t, you may find the harried pacing and repetitive jokes a high hurdle to clear.

Art-wise, Gate 7 most closely resembles Tsubasa. The character designs are elegantly stylized, rendered in delicate lines; though their proportions have been gently elongated, their physiques are less giraffe-like than the principle characters in Legal Drug and xxxHolic. The same sensibility informs the action scenes as well, where CLAMP uses thin, sensual linework to suggest the energy unleashed during magical combat. (Readers familiar with Magic Knight Rayearth will see affinities between the two series, especially in the fight sequences.) Perhaps the most striking thing about the artwork is its imaginative use of water and light to evoke the supernatural. As Zack Davisson observes in his review of Gate 7, CLAMP uses a subtle but lovely image to shift the action from present-day Kyoto to the spirit realm, depicting the characters as stones in the water, with soft ripples radiating outward from each figure….

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Gate 7, Vol. 1

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I have good news and bad news for CLAMP fans. The good news is that Gate 7 is one of the best-looking manga the quartet has produced, on par with Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicles and xxxHolic. The bad news is that Gate 7‘s first volume is very bumpy, with long passages of expository dialogue and several false starts. Whether you’ll want to ride out the first three chapters will depend largely on your reaction to the artwork: if you love it, you may find enough visual stimulation to sustain to your interest while the plot and characters take shape; if you don’t, you may find the harried pacing and repetitive jokes a high hurdle to clear.

Art-wise, Gate 7 most closely resembles Tsubasa. The character designs are elegantly stylized, rendered in delicate lines; though their proportions have been gently elongated, their physiques are less giraffe-like than the principle characters in Legal Drug and xxxHolic. The same sensibility informs the action scenes as well, where CLAMP uses thin, sensual linework to suggest the energy unleashed during magical combat. (Readers familiar with Magic Knight Rayearth will see affinities between the two series, especially in the fight sequences.) Perhaps the most striking thing about the artwork is its imaginative use of water and light to evoke the supernatural. As Zack Davisson observes in his review of Gate 7, CLAMP uses a subtle but lovely image to shift the action from present-day Kyoto to the spirit realm, depicting the characters as stones in the water, with soft ripples radiating outward from each figure.

The story, however, is less satisfying. The plot revolves around high school student Chikahito Takamoto, a timid dreamer who’s obsessed with Kyoto as a place of “history, ancient arts, temples, and shrines.” While exploring the Kitano Tenmangu Shrine, Chikahito is transported to an alternate dimension, where he encounters three warriors: Sakura, Tachibana, and Hana, an androgynously beautiful, child-like figure who possesses even greater spiritual power than the other two. Chikahito watches the trio dismantle a ribbon-like serpent, but before he can question what he’s seen, poof! he finds himself eating noodles with them in a Kyoto apartment as Sakura and Tachibana debate the ethics of erasing Chikahito’s memory.

Hana astonishes Chikahito with an awesome display of power.

The biggest problem with this introductory section is that the subsequent chapter traces a nearly identical trajectory: Chikahito returns to Kyoto, encounters Hana in the streets, then is whisked onto the spirit-plane for another round of magical combat. As soon as the monster is defeated, Chikahito once again finds himself eating a meal with Hana, Sakura, and Tachibana. (This time around, however, they gang-press him into cooking and cleaning for them.) CLAMP even recycles the same gags from the prelude: Hana’s fragile appearance belies a monstrous appetite for noodles, an incongruity CLAMP mines for humor long past the point of being funny.

Other problems prevent Gate 7 from taking flight in its early pages. As we begin to learn more about the Kitano Tenmagu Shrine, for example, various characters take turns explaining its history. These narratives are clearly intended to set the table for a more complex plotline, but have the unintended consequence of stopping the story dead in its tracks. The script also makes some maddening detours into mystical clap-trap; in trying to understand how the seemingly ordinary Chikahito can enter the supernatural realm, characters lapse into Yoda-speak. “We’re alike,” Hana informs Chikahito. When asked, “In what areas?” Hana cheerfully replies, “In areas that are… ‘not.’ Where he’s the same is… ‘not.'”

The most disappointing aspect of Gate 7 is the flimsiness of the characterizations. CLAMP seems to be relying on readers’ familiarity with other titles — Cardcaptor Sakura, Chobits, Tsuaba, xxxHolic — in establishing each character’s personality and role in the drama. Hana, for example, slots into the Mokona role: Hana refers to himself (herself?) in the third person, repeats pet phrases, and behaves like a glutton, yet proves surprisingly powerful. Chikahito, on the other hand, is a carbon copy of xxxHolic‘s Watanuki, a nervous, bespectacled everyman who unwittingly becomes the housekeeper and magical errand-boy for more supernaturally gifted beings. The frantic pace and abrupt transitions between the mundane and supernatural world further complicate the process of establishing Hana and Chikahito as individuals; with so much material stuffed into the first two hundred pages, CLAMP leans too heavily on tics and mannerisms to carry the burden of the characterization. (Cute finger-wagging does not a character make.)

The dramatic introduction of a new character in the volume’s final pages suggests that CLAMP may finally be hitting its stride in chapter four. As promising as this development may be, I can’t quite shake the feeling that I’m reading a Potemkin manga, all surface detail and no depth. Let’s hope volume two proves me wrong.

GATE 7, VOL. 1 • BY CLAMP • DARK HORSE • 192 pp. • NO RATING