Katherine Dacey

Pick of the Week: Magical Girls FTW

September 12, 2011 by Michelle Smith, Sean Gaffney, MJ, David Welsh and Katherine Dacey 5 Comments

Though Midtown Comics expects some real winners this week, much of the gang looks to other distribution sources for one of the most-anticipated releases of the year.

MICHELLE: While this week’s list over at Midtown Comics does include some real contenders—Bunny Drop and Goong especially—I simply must go off list this time and pick what has to be one of the most highly anticipated (if not the most, but we are in a situation where Princess Knight is also on its way!) releases of the year: Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon. It’s a classic and a nostalgic favorite for many, but also has an empowering message for young girls. They’ve got a duty, a mission, they can become strong, and it’s up to them to make the most of themselves and save the world. Don’t miss the prequel/companion series Codename: Sailor V, either!

SEAN: Yes, while I really should be trying to drive up Hayate the Combat Butler’s sales by talking about how enjoyable this current serious arc is, it’s got to be Sailor Moon this week. Or rather, I’ll talk about Code Name: Sailor V, the series whose popularity is what led to Sailor Moon in the first place. Many who are unaware of the series’ origins have noted the similarities between Usagi and Minako, and there’s a good reason for that – Moon is just V with an added sentai team, as requested by the author’s publisher. This does not make V any less awesome – Minako is more proactive (and impulsive) than Usagi, which leads to some fantastic humor. (As TV Tropes noted, trying to contrast the two heroines: “Usagi is a crybaby and Minako is a drama queen.”) So happy to see North America finally getting a chance to read this.

MJ: Though I’m loathe to pass up the chance to talk more about Goong, I simply can’t deny the spectacular nature of this week’s release of Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon and its prequel, Code Name: Sailor V. Though it’s yet unknown whether I will fall for the series as so many have, I am absolutely thrilled to finally have the opportunity to experience what was the initial point of entry for so many American manga fans, and especially for female fans. These are absolutely my must-read manga for the week.

DAVID: For whatever incomprehensible reason, neither of the Sailor debuts will be showing up at my local comic shop, which would have been enough to plant a seed of dark bitterness in my heart, were it not for the fact that I can look forward to the fourth volume of Yumi Unita’s Bunny Drop from Yen Press. (Okay, there was also the intervention of a small squadron of Sailor Scouts who fired sparkly beams at me from their accessories.) I have a weakness for stories that unfold in something close to real time, and when you combine that with a thoughtful, slice-of-life examination of parenting, I’m pretty much undone. I love this book, and I’m looking forward to meeting more of better-than-he-expected adoptive father Daikichi’s extended family. Seeing a competent male parent, single or otherwise, is something that’s so rare in entertainment that Daikichi’s anxious, thoughtful efforts are particularly welcome.

KATE: Since MJ is singing the praises of Sailor Moon, I’ll bang the drum for volume 12 of Goong: The Royal Palace. This gorgeously illustrated manhwa isn’t just for monarchy watchers, though anyone who followed Kate and William’s nuptials will certainly adore this soap opera. It’s for folks who like a good old-fashioned drama, with a big, sprawling cast of characters, a plucky heroine, several handsome suitors, and the kind of meddling parents who make Queen Elizabeth look like the founder of the Free Range Kids movement. And if you’re the kind of person who keeps tabs on what Kate and Pippa wear around London, so much the better: no one in Goong ever, ever leaves their room without dressing to the nines. In short, it’s a stylish, compelling soap opera that makes the most of its royal trappings, and I’m totally addicted to it.

Readers, what looks good to you this week?

Bookshelf Briefs 9/12/11

September 12, 2011 by Katherine Dacey, David Welsh and Sean Gaffney 7 Comments

This week, Kate, David, & Sean take a look at new releases from Viz Media, Dark Horse, Digital Manga Publishing, and Kodansha Comics.

Dengeki Daisy, Vol. 6 | By Kyousuke Motomi | Viz Media-It was only after reading this volume that I realized that not a heck of a lot plot-relevant stuff happened in it. We’re building up to what will likely be a big climax in the next volume or two, but it’s still a buildup, and despite the removal of one minor villain and the redemption of another, there’s a sense of the author trying to gauge how long she can spin out the Daisy/hacker plotline before she’s forced to fire the guns. Still, at the time I was reading it, I didn’t notice at all, as I was completely drawn in by everything. Teru still tends to be a damsel most of the time, as this is her role in the plot, but she’s not a damsel content to be passive, as her attack on one villain shows. As for Tasuku, it’s clear he can’t move forward with Teru till he gets over his own self-loathing – and we’ve not yet bottomed out there. Addictive.– Sean Gaffney

Eden: It’s an Endless World! Vol. 13 | By Hiroki Endo | Dark Horse –In spite of the fact that the 12th volume of this series came out just under two years ago, I found it surprisingly easy to get back in the groove. For those who are unfamiliar with the book, it’s a sprawling, violent sci-fi epic about a world changed utterly by a pernicious virus, a situation worsened by surviving humanity’s relentless desire to tinker with themselves and their world to gain advantage and power. It would probably be irrelevant to provide any kind of plot summary at this stage of the game, so I’ll just say this: Endo avoids just about every pitfall that can befall this kind of action drama. The technobabble is interesting, the ultraviolence is beautifully and imaginatively rendered, and the characters benefit from thoughtful and often surprising motivations. Even the sex scenes don’t feel quite as gratuitous as they could. It’s good stuff. Painfully slow to arrive, but always welcome. – David Welsh

Grand Guignol Orchestra, Vol. 4 | By Kaori Yuki | Viz Media –There’s a lot to like about this series, which I can’t always say with Yuki’s work. She really sells her blend of gothic violence and simmering emotional dysfunction. Unfortunately, it all seems a bit compressed. The overarching plot of Grand Guignol Orchestra – a troupe of traveling musicians battles an encroaching horde of doll-like zombies and tries to solve the various mysteries behind them – could have stretched out for a good long while, but Yuki seemed to barely begin scratching the surface of that premise before she moved into operatic endgame mode. To be honest, it seems like she’s working for an audience that can carry memory of the specific resonances of her style and fill in the narrative blanks. As a result, the most promisingly turgid moments here aren’t as persuasive as they could be. They’re all right, but they could be better if the series had taken the time to fully realize them. – David Welsh

Itazura Na Kiss, Vol. 6 | By Kaoru Tada | Digital Manga Publishing –Given that both the cover and blurb spoil the first half of the volume, I feel it’s safe to say that Kotoko and Naoki finally get together in this 6th omnibus and are married. Pleasingly, the manga doesn’t end there, but continues on with their married life. Unfortunately, given the story still tends to rely on “Kotoko panics and misses the point” and “Naoki doesn’t say what he’s thinking”, this can get even more frustrating. Naoki especially is hard – I’ve gone on about him before, but he really seems to want a wife who can literally read his mind, and doesn’t get how off-putting he can be. And Kotoko is still a dimwit, but her lovableness varies from moment to moment. Still, the sweet and joyous moments in this manga ARE really good, made all the better by the misunderstandings we waded through to get there.– Sean Gaffney

Kingyo Used Books, Vol. 4 | By Seimu Yoshizaki | Viz Media – Any volume of Kingyo Used Books that features manga by Go Nagai, Rumiko Takahashi, and Moto Hagio can’t be all bad; how could any self-respecting otaku dislike a story whose protagonists bond over their mutual affection for Ranma 1/2, or whose bespectacled hero is a connoisseur of classic shojo? The problem with Kingyo Used Books, however, is that even stories such as the aforementioned “A Common Language” or “Beautiful People” never deviate from the basic pattern established in the very first volume: characters stumble into Kingyo, reveal that they’re struggling with a difficult issue, then discover a manga that helps them feel better. The stories are so pat they often feel more like an Afterschool Special than a thoughtful reflection on the power of reading to transform our lives, and the shallow nature of the characters’ epiphanies — beauty is only skin deep, don’t judge a book by its cover — only emphasizes the series’ missed potential. – Katherine Dacey

One Piece, Vol. 58 | By Eiichiro Oda | Viz Media –With my long and turbulent history as a fan of soap operas, I certainly recognize what Oda is doing here. He’s creating a necessary sequence of events that will pay off later, even if that sequence isn’t necessarily what his audience has come to expect or prefer. The thing is, I only like it marginally better in One Piece than I would have on, say, All My Children. (This is because Oda, unlike a Megan McTavish, isn’t a manipulative hack.) So, while experience has taught me that I will eventually be sobbing and cheering at the edifice Oda builds from this foundation, I’m finding myself increasingly impatient with the absence of Oda’s lovingly crafted ensemble and with the relentless bombast of this seemingly never-ending battle. It’s actually pretty good stuff, but it’s wearing out its welcome, and I’m ready to get back to the regular delivery of great stuff. – David Welsh

Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, Vol. 2 | By Kenji Kuroda and Kazuo Maekawa | Kodansha Comics –First off, yes, the cover does look awful, as some of my colleagues mentioned before. It totally screams “tie-in fodder”. Which, to be fair, this is. That said, it’s still succeeding at trying to appeal to its demographic of those who have played the games but want more. The second volume brings Edgeworth into the story, and the manga is better for it – he’s dead on, particularly in how he tries to win his case while at the same time giving Phoenix the little hints he needs to turn everything around. The second half of the manga is a complete story, revolving around the murder of a costumed actor at an amusement park while doing a sentai show. The cases are much less convoluted than the games, by design – there’s just no time to go over everything – but even so, the resolution seems perfectly in keeping with the series. Perhaps we could get Franziska in Vol. 3? Please?– Sean Gaffney

Pick of the Week: All Viz, all the time

September 5, 2011 by Katherine Dacey, Michelle Smith, Sean Gaffney, MJ and David Welsh 4 Comments

It’s a Viz-heavy week at Midtown Comics. Check out picks from the Battle Robot below!

KATE: It’s time for the semi-monthly VIZ dump, which means new volumes of such long-running titles as Naruto and One Piece, as well as a random assortment of shojo and shonen series. My pick is the fourth volume of Oresama Teacher, a juvie-gone-straight comedy from the creator of Magic Touch. The fact that the same person is responsible for both series is nothing short of mind-blowing; I found Magic Touch tepid, tedious, and entirely too wholesome for its own good. Oresama, on the other hand, is fun and silly, with a great, feisty lead character and just enough edges that an old curmudgeon like me can enjoy it without needing an insulin injection.

MICHELLE: I actually thought the 58th volume of One Piece was coming out in October, so with Midtown’s list providing evidence to the contrary, how could I do otherwise than name this my pick of the week? It’s pretty special to be this excited about the 58th volume of a series, but mangaka Eiichiro Oda continues to do new and interesting things with the world and characters he’s created. In the current arc, for example, the simmering tensions between pirates and navy have finally come to a head in the form of an epic battle in the midst of which Luffy, and his kickass drag queen allies, strive to rescue his brother, Ace. Yes, I miss the other Straw Hats, but this is definitely going to be a volume I start reading immediately after coming into possession of it.

SEAN: First of all, I enjoyed The Magic Touch quite a bit, so neener neener neener. (Sorry, I had to respond, it’s contractual). For my pick of the week I will pick a final volume, the last of the josei experiment from our friends at Shojo Beat, Butterflies, Flowers. I have been back and forth about this title its entire run, generally depending on how much backbone its heroine is showing at the time. However, unlike some other shoujo series with bad reputations, Choko does show SOME backbone – when she puts her foot down it can be awesome. And the hero is of an over the top type we really haven’t seen over here – Tamaki from Ouran might match him for foolishness but is far too much of a gentleman to ever go as far into the gutter as Masayuki does throughout. Best of all, even if it’s offensive and wrong at times, it at least KNOWS it’s a comedy – which is more than one can say for Ai Ore half the time. I’ll miss it, and hope Viz tries more Josei Beat soon.

MJ: My choice is pretty surprising, or at least it is to me, but after reading the 36th volume of Bleach due out this week, I found myself more interested in the series than I have been for a long time. A long jump back in time might not be the most original storytelling convention ever, but it turns the focus away from battles and back to characterization, which is where I love Tite Kubo best. I don’t know for sure how long this backstory arc will last, but I’m grateful for it while it’s here. It’s nice to feel excited about reading Bleach again.

DAVID: I’m rather surprised to see myself type this, as I’m still on the fence about the series, but I’m going to go with the fourth volume of Kaori Yuki’s Grand Guignol Orchestra. My reaction to each volume so far has been mixed, but Yuki keeps bringing enough eye-popping weirdness and energy to the proceedings to keep me on the hook, even if consistency isn’t her watchword. Our band of zombie-fighting musicians has really put their collective feet in it as this volume begins, forcing Yuki to pay attention to her overarching plot. In my admittedly limited experience, her likelihood of success in this endeavor is about 50%, but I know there will at least be some freaky, “What the hell was that?” diversions.

Readers, what looks good to you this week?

Bookshelf Briefs 9/5/11

September 5, 2011 by MJ, Sean Gaffney, Katherine Dacey, David Welsh and Michelle Smith 6 Comments

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

Black Bird, Vol. 10 | By Kanoko Sakurakoji | Viz Media – Dear Black Bird: I’ve nearly defeated you. After allowing you to work me into a state of blind fury over the course of nine volumes, I’ve finally become indifferent to your crimes. The constant belittlement of your heroine, her permanently flushed face—even the way your beloved hero always manages to blame her for his most abusive behavior no longer has the power to affect me. Wait, what am I saying? Okay, I admit I lied. You did get to me by the end of the volume, you sneaky devil. Sorry about those pages I ripped up and burned, but you have to admit you were asking for it. After all, I think you said it best. “There are times I want to treat you really well … and times when I want to treat you mean and make you cry … Which way I lean all depends on you. So don’t blame it all on me.” – MJ

Bleach, Vol. 36 | By Tite Kubo | Viz Media – It’s easy to become jaded as a manga reviewer, especially when it comes to long-running shounen manga. Though some series manage to transcend formula, others just seem to settle in, churning out pages of endless battles, increasingly generic foes, or whatever popular staples their genres require. Bleach has long walked the line between the two, just barely balancing compelling drama with mind-numbing repetition. After volume 35‘s strict conformity to this pattern, nothing could be more surprising than volume 36. Completely abandoning (for the moment) the battle set up in the volume before, Bleach 36 dives back into the past, promising new and exciting revelations about characters we already care about, including the enigmatic Kisuke Urahara and the entire lot of Visored. Though future tedium undoubtedly awaits, for the moment, Kubo gives us his very best. Unexpectedly recommended. – MJ

Deltora Quest, Vol. 1 | By Emily Rodda and Makoto Niwano | Yen Press –As a reviewer, sometimes you have to try to avoid the easy way out and grind through why you couldn’t really enjoy a title. It’s tempting, especially with a title as dull as Deltora Quest was, to simply wrote “No.” as a review and be done with it. But it’s my own fault, as I ordered the book even knowing that sword-and-sorcery fantasy is one of my least favorite genres, because it was part of a big pile of Kodansha Vol. 1s. And I have not even read the original novels by Emily Rodda either. Oh, and I’m not a 9-year-old boy. So, honestly, it should come as no surprise that I found this manga a tedious slog, with two-dimensional characters, action scenes where I kept flipping the pages faster and faster, and tortured exposition. Best of all, a time skip at the end shows us that the entire volume was mere prologue for the real story, which begins with the son of our protagonist next time. Also, kings should know better than to have grand viziers by now. It’s just asking for trouble. Skip this.– Sean Gaffney

Mardock Scramble, Vol. 1 | By Tow Ubukata and Yoshitoki Oima | Kodansha Comics – Mardock Scramble walks a fine line between dark and glum. The premise places it squarely in dark and compelling territory: a young woman gets a second chance at life — and a chance to bring her would-be killer to justice — after getting a bionic woman makeover. Rune Balot’s reluctance to embrace her new abilities, however, frequently threatens to drag Mardock into glum terrain; though it’s entirely plausible that someone as damaged as Rune isn’t ready to get all Lady Snowblood on her abuser’s ass, watching her passively resist self-actualization is a depressing and frustrating spectacle. Only the presence of Oefcoque, a cyborg mouse capable of transforming into just about anything, prevents the story from collapsing under the weight of its own grim agenda. – Katherine Dacey

The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, Vol. 9 | By Nagaru Tanigawa and Gaku Tsugano | Yen Press –This volume takes us through the end of Disappearance. For the most part, once again it’s simply poor when compared to the novel and the anime. I’ve no frame of reference to gauge how I’d feel about it if I hadn’t read/seen either of those, but I suspect I’d still find it wanting. I did note that Asakura is drawn far peppier and less evil/menacing than she appeared in the movie, which makes her final scene even creepier. There’s also a bonus story of the Christmas Party itself (which involves accidentally creating an ancient Egyptian hot pot), and another one set in Edo times (with Edo Haruhi being just as bad as the modern one, and wanting the perfect cup of tea), but neither add anything of note to the canon, nor are they bad enough to be entertaining on their own like the boxing story was last time. Substandard, though Vol. 10 apparently features Love at First Sight, a story as yet unanimated, so maybe it can try again there.– Sean Gaffney

Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, Vol. 2 | By Kenji Kuroda and Kazuo Maekawa | Kodansha Comics – I described the first volume of Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney as “blah,” and I’m pleased to report that second volume is more to my liking. I’m still having issues with suspension of disbelief—ask me to believe in yokai, cyborgs, or reincarnated moon princesses and I’m fine, but ask me to believe that suspects go on trial two days after the crime, and I balk—but I’ve been (mostly) won over by the Case Closed vibe the kooky murder methods conjure. It doesn’t hurt that half of this volume is occupied with investigating the murder of an amusement park employee who was garbed in the furry mascot costume of a character named “Twinklestar” at the time of his death. Phoenix and his assistant Maya take it seriously, of course, but I enjoy the sheer absurdity of it all. – Michelle Smith

The Story of Saiunkoku, Vol. 4 | By Sai Yukino and Kairi Yura | Viz Media –First of all, I cannot emphasize enough how disappointed I am by Ensei shaving. His rough and tumble beard made him look like a man from a completely different world in this manga filled with interchangeable bishies. Now he’s just another one of them. At least he has a scar, but still, it’s the principle of the thing. In addition, we get hung up here with a classic problem adapting a prose novel to visual – someone has been described as inhumanly beautiful. The artist does their level best, but in the end, nope, just another pretty bishie. To be fair, it’s impossible to draw ‘inhumanly beautiful’, so they did their best. As for the manga itself, it’s still good, mainly focusing on court intrigue and Shurei’s learning curve, with only a brief stop at romance (I am highly amused that the emperor is doing the right thing entirely through instinct, rather than overthinking things. An excellent read.– Sean Gaffney

Warning! Whispers of Love | By Puku Okuyama | Digital Manga Publishing – This addition to the reading list was the result of one of my boys’-love polls , monthly quests where I try to find gems among the new BL and yaoi releases. Okuyama’s storytelling has its charms, but I found myself wishing for a little more genuine feeling mixed in with the antics. The title story is about a game of cat and mouse between two high-school students where both realize they enjoy the game. Logic isn’t driving the bus here, but Okuyama manages a pretty good, weird, recurring joke along the way. The middle piece, about a guy who values his solitude taking in a roommate on impulse, brings more emotional authenticity to the table, though the creator clearly has a possibly excessive fondness for flaky gamines. The last story is pretty much all antics, but at least there’s a really cute dog to distract me from the underdeveloped human characters in the story. This was pleasant enough, but I don’t think I’d rush to read more of Okuyama’s work. – David Welsh

Bloody Monday, Vol. 1

August 30, 2011 by Katherine Dacey 10 Comments

Bloody Monday is a textbook example of the teen-genius genre: high school student Fujimaru Takagi dabbles in crime-solving, hacking into secure networks and decoding encrypted files on behalf of the Public Security Intelligence Agency. (Naturally, he works for the PSIA’s super-secret “Third-I” division, which is “comprised solely of elites.”) Fujimaru’s deductive skills are put to the ultimate test when his father is falsely implicated in a murder. To find the real killer, Fujimaru must uncover the connection between his father and the “Christmas Massacre,” a terrorist attack that left thousands of Russian civilians dead, their bodies covered in boils.

In the right hands, Bloody Monday might have been good, silly fun, 24 for the under-twenty-four crowd. The script, however, is pointed and obvious, explaining hacker culture and internet technology to an audience that has grown up on the world-wide web: are there any fifteen-year-olds who don’t grasp the basics of computer viruses? The characters, too, seem impossibly dim, thinking out loud, missing obvious connections, and reminding each other how they’re related, whether they’re fellow reporters for the school newspaper or siblings. Small wonder they don’t realize that their school has been infiltrated by an enemy agent.

The art is more skillful than the script, with polished character designs and detailed backgrounds. The adults actually look like adults, not teenagers with unfortunate laugh lines, while the scenes aboard the Transsiberian Railroad convey the harshness of the Russian landscape. Though artist Kouji Megumi nevers misses an opportunity to show us an attractive woman in her underwear — and really, what well-trained assassin doesn’t snuff a target or two while wearing only a matching bra-and-panty set? — the fanservice never overwhelms the plot. The action sequences, too, are well-staged, using swift cross-cuts and imaginative camera angles to heighten the suspense.

In the end, however, the slick visuals aren’t enough to compensate for the flat-footed storytelling. A plot as potentially interesting and complex as Bloody Monday‘s should challenge the reader to arrive the solution independently, not spoon-feed it; too often, the story seems to have been written in boldface, depriving the reader of an opportunity to guess the outcome of the story for herself.

BLOODY MONDAY, VOL. 1 • STORY BY RYOU RYUMON, ART BY KOUJI MEGUMI • KODANSHA COMICS USA • 200 pp. • RATING: TEEN (13+)

Bloody Monday, Vol. 1

August 30, 2011 by Katherine Dacey

To judge from all the shonen manga I’ve read, the fate of the world rests in teenage boys’ hands: not only do they have the power to kill demons and thwart alien invasions, they’re also blessed with the kind of superior intelligence that makes them natural partners with law enforcement. Bloody Monday is a textbook example of the teen-genius genre: high school student Fujimaru Takagi dabbles in crime-solving, hacking into secure networks and decoding encrypted files on behalf of the Public Security Intelligence Agency. (Naturally, he works for the PSIA’s super-secret “Third-I” division, which is “comprised solely of elites.”) Fujimaru’s deductive skills are put to the ultimate test when his father is falsely implicated in a murder. To find the real killer, Fujimaru must uncover the connection between his father and the “Christmas Massacre,” a terrorist attack that left thousands of Russian civilians dead, their bodies covered in boils.

BLOODY MONDAY, VOL. 1 • STORY BY RYOU RYUMON, ART BY KOUJI MEGUMI • KODANSHA COMICS USA • 200 pp. • RATING: TEEN (13+)

Pick of the Week: Lotsa Kodansha

August 29, 2011 by Sean Gaffney, David Welsh, Katherine Dacey, Michelle Smith and MJ 4 Comments

Take a look at the Manga Bookshelf bloggers’ picks from this week’s new releases!

SEAN: There’s any number of interesting titles due out this week (hurricane permitting), but the one that most catches my eye is Bloody Monday. First off, it’s from the brother/sister writing team responsible, under various pen names, for Drops of God, Getbackers, Kindaichi Case Files, Remote and Psycho Busters. Secondly, it’s an intense psychological techno-thriller with terrorists, computer viruses, and a lot of difficulty knowing who to trust. It might definitely appeal to the Death Note crowd who liked the manga’s tense back-and-forth plotting – or heck, even Die Hard fans, though there’s no obvious John McClane figure here. It’s also spawned 2 sequels, the last of which is still running in Japan.

DAVID: After the last few weeks of relative scarcity, it’s nice to see a diverse list, even if it isn’t a particularly bountiful one. For me, the highlight is the 13th volume of Hiroki Endo’s Eden: It’s an Endless World! This paranoid, post-apocalyptic drama almost always has something intriguing to offer, even when Endo strays too long in pet subplots that don’t seem entirely specific to the world he’s been building. I’m glad that Dark Horse continues to release this series, however slowly, though I always have to go back and refresh my memory of what happened during the last couple of volumes, because I’m an old man, and some of my brain cells go into retirement over an 18-month period. Of course, a new volume of The Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service would make me even happier.

KATE: I normally loathe manga based on video games, but I was pleasantly surprised by Hiro Mashima’s Monster Hunter Orage: it’s funny, fast-paced, and smartly illustrated. Mashima does a fine job of adapting the source material, translating game play into an actual narrative and not just a series of monster-fighting set-pieces. Oh, and Mashima creates two awesome female leads, both of whom are smart, sensible, and handy with weapons. (Not surprisingly, they find the strong but dumb-as-toast hero a source of amusement and frustration.) No, it won’t change your life, or challenge your conceptions about what shonen manga is, but it’s a perfect read for a subway commute or a rainy afternoon.

MICHELLE: I agree with Kate’s assessment of Monster Hunger Orage 100%, but rather than simply say “ditto” I will cast my vote for Warning! Whispers of Love, a new one-volume title from Digital Manga Publishing. I admit that I am judging this one almost solely on its unconventional cover, but that strategy worked well for me with I Give to You, so why not employ it a second time? The blurb over at DMP’s site suggests that the hijinks might get a little too zany for my tastes—one of the boys seems to have an ear-swabbing fetish—but I’m willing to give it a shot, at least.

MJ: I’m going to stray from the usual Midtown list this week and pick out a title that became available at Boston’s Comicopia last week, Kodansha Comics’ re-release of Until the Full Moon from mangaka Sanami Matoh. Having completely missed the original English release from Broccoli Books, I admit I’m quite eager to give it a whirl, if for no other reason than my undying love affair with its brand of old-school shoujo artwork. I would be content with simply looking at this manga, but I’m hoping to find it enjoyable to read as well. Absolutely my must-read comic for the week.

Readers, what looks good to you this week?

Bookshelf Briefs 8/29/11

August 29, 2011 by Katherine Dacey, David Welsh, MJ and Michelle Smith 4 Comments

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

Animal Land, Vol. 1 | By Makoto Raiku | Kodansha Comics – This odd little fable focuses on Monoko, a tanuki who discovers a human baby at the edge of a river. Monoko, herself an orphan, immediately identifies with Tarozo’s plight, and vows to raise him herself — a vow complicated by many factors, including an abundance of dangerous predators lurking just outside the tanukis’ village. Whether you’ll like Animal Land depends on how you feel about the tanukis, as they look like theme-park mascots with grotesquely oversized ears and china-doll faces. (I suppose we should be thankful that Makoto Raiku didn’t follow convention in super-sizing other parts of the tanukis’ anatomy, but still.) The tanukis’ behavior is just as outsized as their ears, steadily alternating between pratfalls and teary, anguished conversation, leaving little room for character development or new patterns of interaction. Younger readers won’t mind, but adults may find the tanukis’ odd appearance and frantic antics tiresome. – Katherine Dacey

Bokurano: Ours, Vol. 4 | By Mohiro Kitoh | Published by VIZ Media – Mangaka Mohiro Kitoh is beginning to tweak the established formula of Bokurano: Ours in some innovative ways. The presence of a pair of military observers (Seki and Tanaka) is making a big difference, for example, as they introduce more organization to what’s going on, resulting in some gatherings where the children interact with one another prior to someone being called for pilot duty. Too, it appears that two of the kids don’t actually have a binding contract to participate, which interjects an interesting complication to the story. (The kids assume this includes the lone fourth grader in their midst, but I somehow doubt she’ll be off the hook.) Lastly, the stakes are especially high for one of this volume’s pilots, who hopes to save a sick friend’s life with an organ donation, resulting in a cliffhanger that sent me to the SigIkki website for the resolution. Good stuff! – Michelle Smith

Oresama Teacher, Vol. 4 | By Izumi Tsubaki | Published by VIZ Media – I feel like I’m always unexpectedly learning something when I read Oresama Teacher. First, there was the informative sequence on how to foil attempts to tie you up, and now we learn techniques for dodging and deflecting blows as Mafuyu (in her mail guise, Natsuo) trains Hayasaka in the finer points of fighting so he’ll be prepared to square off against the members of a rival club who’re out to ambush the members of the Public Morals Club. Mafuyu is worried about how straightforward Hayasaka will fare in a fight, but comes to trust him and even realizes that, though gullible Hayasaka completely believes in and reveres two of her adopted personas, he also cares for her true self enough to put himself in jeopardy. With all the action and comedy, this isn’t really a romance manga, but I still think I may detect some feelings beginning to bloom… – Michelle Smith

Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei, Vol. 10 | By Koji Kumeta | Kodansha Comics – There’s a lot to like about Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei, from its crisp, confident artwork to its broad, equally confident characterization. But what’s really most impressive about this series is its ability to remain funny, volume after volume, while its format (and universe) remains unchanged. Nobody wearies of a gag manga faster than I do, but ten volumes in, I’m still laughing at Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei. Furthermore, volume ten is one of the series’ strongest so far. Jokes related to its then-new anime adaptation continue from the previous volume, enhancing (but not overwhelming) chapters revolving around subjects such as three-way standoffs, protecting “unnature,” entitlement, and “May sickness,” and even the volume’s most Japanese-specific jokes appear to translate effortlessly in the hands of new adapter Joshua Weeks. Still recommended. – MJ

Velveteen & Mandala | By Jiro Matsumoto | Vertical– If you read some of the cruder entries in Top Shelf’s AX anthology and found yourself saying, “I wish this was longer,” then Velveteen and Mandala is the book for you. Matsumoto pits dim, bickering schoolgirls against a horde of bemused zombies, throwing gobs of gross-out humor and precocious sexuality into the mix. Imagine a better-drawn Tokyo Zombie with female protagonists, and you’ll have the general idea. There’s certainly an audience for this sort of thing, but it’s equally certain that I’m not a member of that subset of comic fandom. To be honest, Velveteen and Mandala, with its indifferent plotting and feeble, familiar attempts at transgression tested my patience far more often than it rewarded it. Aside from some stylistic flourishes, there’s nothing here that you probably haven’t seen before, and it’s up to you whether you’re really eager to see it again. – David Welsh

Cage of Eden, Vol. 1

August 25, 2011 by Katherine Dacey 10 Comments

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before: a trans-Pacific flight encounters turbulence, and before any of the passengers can shout “J.J. Abrams!” — or “William Golding!” for that matter — the plane crash-lands an uninhabited tropical island, far from civilization’s reach. In some variations of the story, the island itself poses the greatest danger to survivors, harboring monsters or malevolent spirits. In other versions, the survivors’ own fear and narcissism proves more deadly than any jungle-dwelling creatures, as the rude wilderness strips away the survivors’ veneer of humanity.

In Cage of Eden, Yoshinobu Yamada combines these two survival narratives to tell the story of a high school holiday gone horribly wrong. Cage’s teen heroes crash-land in a prehistoric forest populated by long-extinct animals: saber-toothed tigers, horse-sized birds. These big, hungry predators aren’t the only threat to the students’ safety, however. Yarai, the class delinquent, seizes the opportunity to act on his darkest impulses, terrorizing his peers and the doomed flight’s captain. Only Akira, a small, self-described loser, and Mariya, a bespectacled, anti-social genius, have the skills and the smarts to outwit both enemies.

Though the story unfurls at a good clip, the execution is a little creaky. The opening chapter is a choppy information dump, as Yamada introduces the principal characters, delineates their relationships, and reveals the purpose of their plane trip. Once on the island, Mariya’s computer proves shockingly durable — it boots up without protest, despite plunging 35,000 feet — and helpfully equipped with a searchable database of extinct animals. (“Even without internet, I can still access program files,” Mariya solemnly informs an incredulous Akira.) The characters speak fluent exposition, frequently explaining things to one another that are readily obvious from Yamada’s crisply executed drawings. Worse still, the intelligent dialogue is reserved for the male characters; the few female characters’ primary role is to be menaced, rescued, and ogled, though not necessarily in that order.

However obvious the script or ubiquitous the cheesecake — and yes, the fanservice is executed with all the subtlety of a tap-dancing hippopotamus — Cage of Eden has a cheerful, B-movie vibe that’s hard to resist. The monsters are rendered in loving detail, down to their sinews and feathers and claws; as they tear across the page, it’s not hard to imagine how terrified the characters must be, or how fast they need to run in order to escape. The setting, too, is a boon, offering Yamada numerous places to conceal a dangerous animal or booby trap. Even the characters are effective. Though drawn in broad strokes, Akira is a sympathetic lead; he’s prone to self-doubt after years of being a bench warmer, an academic failure, a mama’s boy, and a second banana to the most popular student in his class. That the island provides him a chance to prove his worth isn’t surprising — that’s de rigeur for the genre — but Akira’s mixture of humility and bravery is refreshing, helping distract the reader from the absurdity of his action-movie heroics.

I won’t make any grand claims for Cage of Eden: on many levels, it’s dumber than a peroxide blonde, with characters doing and saying things that defy common sense. Yet Yoshinobu Yamada demonstrates a genuine flair for writing popcorn-movie manga, populating the island with scary-looking monsters and staging thrilling action sequences that temporarily erase the memory of the clumsy dialogue and panty shots. Cage of Eden is the perfect beach read for the final days of August: it’s fun and fast-paced, placing few demands on the sun-addled reader.

CAGE OF EDEN, VOL. 1 • BY YOSHINOBU YAMADA • KODANSHA COMICS USA • 200 pp. • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+)

Cage of Eden, Vol. 1

August 25, 2011 by Katherine Dacey

CAGE OF EDEN, VOL. 1 • BY YOSHINOBU YAMADA • KODANSHA COMICS USA • 200 pp. • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+)

Pick of the Week: JManga

August 22, 2011 by Michelle Smith, David Welsh, MJ, Katherine Dacey and Sean Gaffney 13 Comments

With only one volume of new manga shipping to Midtown Comics, this week’s pick looked bleak. Fortunately, David came to the rescue, by suggesting a new way for us to spend our money. See below!

MICHELLE: The big news in the manga sphere this week was JManga‘s launch on 8/17. I have already spent more money than I’d intended snapping up first volumes of some intriguing-looking series. All look potentially great, but I am perhaps most interested to read Ekiben Hitoritabi, a seinen series from Futabasha in which a train-loving man receives a trip around Japan from his wife on their tenth wedding anniversary. He proceeds to travel around, sampling the bentos available at the various stations. Like Sean mentioned in his recent review of Urameshiya, what I was really looking for out of JManga was a title I’d never heard of before that probably wouldn’t have sold well in a print edition. Ekiben Hitoritabi seems to fit the bill perfectly, and I’m really looking forward to reading it.

SEAN: As has been noted, I’ve already reviewed a manga from Futabasha, Urameshiya. I therefore wanted to highlight something new by another company. Shonen Gahosha has only free previews (in Japanese) of its titles best known here in America – Excel Saga, Hellsing, and Trigun). But it does have Volume 1 in English of a title that has not been released here – Soredemo Machi wa Mawatteiru, which translates approximately to ‘And Yet The Town Turns’ and is generally referred to as ‘Sore-Machi’. It’s about a maid cafe in a small town, and our plucky hero who tries to deal with events as best she can despite being not a particularly good maid. The manga also got an anime in Japan in late 2010, which might be why it’s available here, and is still running in Young King OURS, Shonen Gahosha’s best known magazine. In amongst all the worthy josei and seinen manga that my colleagues will no doubt be pushing, it’s nice to see a goofy, weird, slice-of-life maid comedy popping up as well to cater to slice-of-life fans and maid otaku (though I suspect this might be a bit too strange for the typical otaku).

MJ: With so much to choose from, I hardly know where to start! But I do have my eye on Hyakkiyakoushou, one of the site’s josei series from mangaka Ichiko Ima, previously licensed (but never published) by Aurora Publishing. I’m always a sucker for supernatural manga, and this one has lured me in with its free preview. There’s no new ground here, really, in terms of ghost stories, but it looks genuinely creepy and a little melancholy, both of which tend to appeal to me. It’s award-winning, according to the internet, with expressive artwork and some nice period details. The names of the first three chapters (“The Voice Calling from the Darkness”, “The Sea-Hare” and “Cherry Tree Sparrow”) appeal to my sensibilities as well. Looks like my kind of manga!

DAVID: One of my personal fascinations is fixated on comics that explore the way people work and the way that activity factors into their lives. I love just about any comic that’s set in a workplace in a meaningful way, and I think there are far too few of them. So the first offering to really grab my attention would have to be Anesthesiologist Hana by Nakao Hakua and Kabbei Matsumoto. The title is about as literal as you can expect from manga, offering a realistic depiction of the challenges of a young woman working as an anesthesiologist, an often-under-appreciated medical profession. The manga does not seem to offer a particularly realistic depiction of boobs, but you’re cutting out a lot of seinen if you use that as a limiting factor. I also find myself writing tag lines for the series: “She can put you to sleep, but her adventures will keep your pulse racing!”

Readers, have you checked out JManga? What looks good to you?

Roundtable: Flower of Life

August 21, 2011 by MJ, David Welsh, Michelle Smith, Sean Gaffney and Katherine Dacey 7 Comments

MJ: There’s a lot to love about Fumi Yoshinaga, from her expressive artwork to her rambling dialogue, and she’s one of those writers I consistently love, even for her weakest work. When I find myself searching for what really defines her, though, I always come back to Flower of Life. I’ve talked about this series on my own before, but there’s something about a story so warm and so driven by friendship that begs to be discussed with friends. To that end, I’ve ~~begged~~ asked my fellow bloggers to join me in this roundtable!

Every time I pick up this series, I’m struck again by just how odd it is. On one hand, it’s this meandering, slice-of-life manga filled with idiosyncratic characters, tangential dialogue, and no obvious central plotline. On the other, it’s eerily truthful and genuinely dramatic, often when I least expect it. For those of you re-reading the series or picking it up for the first time, how would you classify something like this? Or is there even any point to trying?

DAVID: I would categorize it as un-distilled Yoshinaga, to be honest, which is a category or genre all its own. Everything she does is really steeped in her own sensibility, and I think Flower of Life is possibly the best translated example of that. And it’s a little strange, but with this re-reading, I really noticed how sneakily structured the story is, at least in terms of its emotional arcs. They don’t really emerge as being as well-formed as they are when you read the series as it’s being published, but if you sit down with the whole series, you really get a lot of unexpected and resonant payoffs.

SEAN: I’ve only read one volume of the series so far, but I wasn’t particularly surprised by its idiosyncrasies, as I had researched it a bit and discovered it ran in Shinshokan’s ‘5th genre’ magazine Wings, which tends to be categorized as shoujo, has more of a josei audience, is predominately fantasy-oriented, and has a large contingent of what could be called ‘not quite BL’, including both Flower of Life and Antique Bakery. Actually, I was rather surprised to find that there wasn’t really any true BL in the volume of FOL I’d read at all, mostly as both that and AB are described as ‘gateway volumes’ for those who want a taste of the BL genre without any of that, y’know, actual GAY stuff. :) It’s just a slice-of-life school story starring a bunch of weirdos. I really enjoyed the volume I read, and will definitely seek out the others. If only for the bishie otaku.

KATE: One of the things that strikes me most about Flower of Life is how accurately it captures teenage experience. Yoshinaga clearly remembers her own adolescence, as she conveys the intensity and sincerity of her characters’ feelings with tenderness. Yet Flower of Life doesn’t behave like a typical young adult story, with characters striving toward a goal; Yoshinaga fiercely resists imposing an obvious dramatic arc on the material, even though her principal characters grow and change over time. I’d classify it as “slice of life,” but I hate that term because reviewers apply it indiscriminately to series as different as Azumanga Daioh and Saturn Apartments. Maybe “true to life”?

MICHELLE: “True to life” works for me! I’m not exactly sure how she does it, but there’s something so organic about the way that we’re introduced to the characters—a really sublime “show don’t tell” going on about their personalities—that, in time, one feels immersed in the class. Example: I am so weary of cultural festivals in manga I could scream, but the one in the second volume of Flower of Life is the best example of same I have EVER SEEN. And that’s because we’ve gotten to know the characters well enough to feel their excitement as they plan. Also, I think I could write 10,000 words about Majima (the aforementioned bishie otaku), but I assume we’re going to get to him later.

MJ: I’m happy to go with “true to life” as well, because that really is what it feels like. Also, Kate, I think your choice of words here is particularly apt. “Yoshinaga fiercely resists imposing an obvious dramatic arc on the material, even though her principal characters grow and change over time.” Yet, as David mentions, there really are some wonderful emotional arcs throughout the story. They just feel so natural, there’s never a sense that this is a result of “plot.” The characters simply live, and somehow it’s kind of a revelation when we realize what that really means.

Sean, it’s interesting that you mention BL here, because I wasn’t actually aware that Flower of Life was considered a “gateway” book, though I certainly spent much of the first volume under the same delusion as Harutaro.

And Michelle, I’m thrilled that you brought up the cultural festival, because I feel exactly the same way! And really, I think that’s where my 10,000 words on Majima would really get going.

DAVID: Can I take it back to how the characters really seem to breathe? Because I agree, and I do so even with the kind of heightened, commentary-rich dialogue. These people don’t just feel things and do things. They think and talk a whole lot, and while it’s not especially naturalistic dialogue, it’s very character-driven, and it actually makes the story barrel along rather than dragging it down.

SEAN: I had a lot of preconceptions before starting Book 1, and one of which was that it would be ‘sorta BL’, i.e. that it would feature gay characters but not gay relationships or something similar. You know, Wings-ish. The way that Tokyo Babylon is. This is probably why I was so amused at the revelation of the teacher’s gender, as having ‘him’ being a flaming gay man didn’t surprise me when I started the book. Which, of course, is exactly what Yoshinaga was going for, in order to get the payoff two chapters later. (There’s some great gags here – I loved the girl’s story about how to ‘properly’ sit on a toilet with a skirt – complete with visualization. Hilarious.)

MICHELLE: I had a similar experience, not because of Wings but just because of what I’ve read of Yoshinaga so far. Of course she’d have a gay couple in her story! I was actually kind of impressed she managed to fool me so thoroughly—as a hardened manga veteran I thought I was pretty savvy in regards to such tricks! It certainly puts all of Saito-sensei’s conversations with the students in a new light—often still inappropriate, but less potentially actionable than they first appeared.

I love, too, how Yoshinaga balances relatively lighthearted day-to-day stories for the students with some pretty serious dramatic issues for the adults, like Saito and Koyanagi’s relationship and the plight of Harutaro’s homebound sister, Sakura.

KATE: I’m really glad you mentioned the adults, Michelle, because Yoshinaga doesn’t reduce them to cartoons — evil principals, hot teachers, overbearing parents — but portrays them as real people struggling with real problems: maintaining authority in the classroom, establishing appropriate boundaries with colleagues and students. That’s one of the reasons I love this series so much: the conversations in the teacher’s lounge have the same ring of truth as the discussions at the manga club’s meetings.

MICHELLE: The presence of so many parents makes me very happy, actually. I especially love how helpful some are with the Christmas party the kids plan, and how the kids then come home and thank them, or tell them about how things went. Very few actual teens are super-powered orphans, after all.

DAVID: It’s reflective of one of the things I like most about Yoshinaga, no matter what category she’s visiting. Her characters tend to have rounded lives. They have friends or lovers, sure, but there are other people who populate their worlds. She’s open to the kinds of digressions that make stories richer for me.

MJ: Speaking of the Christmas party, I think it stands as a great example of why the story’s universe feels so real. The kids are initially over-optimistic in their planning, only to realize as the party actually approaches that they’re all under-prepared on some level. At this point, I’d expect a typical shoujo manga to go in one of two directions. Either the kids would pull together at the last minute and make their spectacular party dreams come true, or everything would be a spectacular failure, but somehow they’d have fun anyway, learning a lesson about what’s really important. Yoshinaga goes in neither of these directions. Instead, some things work out, some don’t, and the stuff that gets pulled together is for the most part not quite what they dreamed of, but adequate for reality. The real story is in the fun they have with each other and not any of the organizational close calls, just as in real life.

So, getting around to some of Michelle’s 10,000 words on Majima, one of the things Yoshinaga seems to specialize in is taking common manga tropes I generally find distasteful, and making them really interesting instead. I’m not a fan, for instance, of student-teacher romances, especially when the student is underage, but I have to admit that the obviously problematic relationship that develops here between emotionally-stunted Majima and his lonely teacher Saito is completely fascinating to me, in all its messed-up glory. Is it just me?

MICHELLE: It isn’t just you! I loved the scene where Saito finally breaks it off with Koyanagi-sensei, wanting him to remain the good father she always loved him for being, and runs into dispassionate Majima’s arms. But then I felt kind of bad for loving it so much. I shouldn’t be rooting for the teacher to choose her sixteen-year-old student!

MICHELLE: The message I got from this is “you don’t have to try to impress your friends, just be yourself.” That same idea comes through when Mikuni is allowed to see the true messiness of Harutaro’s room and they bond as a result. Really, Yoshinaga doles out quite a few lessons about friendship, like, “you don’t always have to like the same things in order to be friends” (Takeda, Isonishi, and Jinnai) or “you don’t always have to agree about everything” (Mikuni and Harutaro)” or “there are one-sided feelings even in friendships” (Yamane and Sakai). I feel like I should hand this out to teenagers as some kind of handbook.

MJ: Michelle, I’m totally with you. Also, I will point out that Yamane/Sakai is one of three questionably-canon “‘ships” I once begged for from fandom. I love their little book-borrowing story just that much.

DAVID: I don’t think I’d go quite so far as to say I liked the relationship, but I certainly understood it. It was a very credible part of the spectrum of imperfect connections that Yoshinaga portrays throughout the series. And I absolutely admire Yoshinaga’s ability to make me invested in a character like Majima without having to like him even a little bit. That’s a tough bit of acrobatics.

MJ: That’s exactly the thing, isn’t it? Yoshinaga doesn’t necessarily make us like everyone in Flower of Life or everything that happens in the story, but she makes it all so compelling, we dismiss the desire to reject it. As little as I like Majima, his character’s journey is one of the most interesting to me, because Yoshinaga never takes the easy way out with him.

I feel a little guilty, leaving Sean behind here when he’s just finished volume one. But Sean, I’m actually really interested in your comments earlier, because it sounds like Majima is actually the character you’re most interested in at this point.

SEAN: Yes, sorry for being so silent. I did only read Vol. 1, and am planning to review it tomorrow, so want to avoid repeating myself too much. :) And yes, Majima fascinated me, if only as there’s no glossing over his otaku-ness. He actually reminded me a bit of Naoto in Itazura Na Kiss, who is early, retro shoujo jerk, so doesn’t have the ‘soft edges’ or occasional pet the dog moments that our modern shoujo jerks get in order to make them appealing. Majima’s otaku creepiness is unapologetic and a little scary, especially to the Japanese who have a definite view of this sort of obsession. The joke, of course, is that he’s an older-looking handsome young man, who would no doubt have friends and potential lovers falling all over him were it not for… well, everything he says and does. Even when people THINK they understand him… witness the chapter where they think he’s offended by their teasing him and try to apologize… but he’s still upset as they go about it the wrong way. I’ll definitely be looking forward to Vols. 2-4, as I’m hoping that, while I’m sure he will gain some depth and kindness in there, he retains his basic creepy unlikeability that makes him so interesting.

MICHELLE: I find him fascinating for much the same reason: he doesn’t seem to have any redeeming qualities. Readers want to like him, but time and again, he gives us reasons not to. I think it’s a pretty stunning portrait of the fixated otaku, personally, with the arrogance and obsession coupled with a preference for 2-D girls (of a very specific forehead-showing, glasses-wearing type) and a lot of hostility towards real women (witness the top three things he has wanted to say to one).

I actually found myself wondering what Tohru Honda would make of him, someone whom her warmth could not penetrate and help to heal. I think she’d find him pretty terrifying.

KATE: I appreciate the fact that Yoshinaga doesn’t try to sand away Majima’s edges; I have a deep loathing for authors who give their curmudgeons and eccentrics falsely redeeming qualities. (It’s one of the reasons I can’t sit through an episode of House!)

Switching gears a bit, one of things I find most fascinating about Flower of Life is that it’s the least mean-spirited satire I’ve ever read. Yoshinaga is clearly having a ball poking fun at series like Genshinken — not to mention every shojo manga that involved a school play — yet at the same time, she isn’t mocking her characters for their passion; their let’s-make-a-manga enthusiasm is contagious. That kind of balance is very hard to pull off, since the story can easily tilt towards snark or flat-out hokum. The results remind me a little of Shaun of the Dead: it works equally well as a zombie-movie parody and a straight-ahead horror flick with comic elements.

DAVID: I think the Shaun of the Dead comparison is really apt, because the characters aren’t only reacting to each other as characters, they’re responding to the ways they fill certain genre tropes. Funny and great as the long set pieces are, like the school festival and Christmas party and study session, there are lots of little moments. A particular favorite is when Sumiko, the female otaku, tucks her hair behind her ear and reveals herself to be unexpectedly beautiful. That’s perfectly executed, especially for the reaction of the onlookers. They all recognize the moment, and it resonates with them, even beyond the actual surprise of the reveal. And I also love how Harutaro and Sakura totally geek out over how adorable Shota is. That’s like a Twitter conversation about favorite characters between enthusiastic fans. But really, that’ one of the great things about this series: that all of the characters are essentially fans of one another, finding those recognizable pop-culture resonances in the everyday people around each other, and celebrating them in these odd, quirky way.

MJ: That’s such a great way of describing it, David! And I think you and Kate have put your finger on one of the reasons the series’ warm feel really works for me. There’s no saccharine quality in it at all. The characters genuinely like each other (mostly) but so much of what holds them together as a group is a common point of reference. It’s odd that this should feel extraordinary, but when I’m reading Flower of Life I become aware of just how rare it is for a writer to really capture that sense of shared pop culture between characters.

MICHELLE: Another thing that prevents that saccharine feeling is that we’re not told over and over that they like each other. Yoshinaga simply shows it, over and over, in marvelous ways. Even the episode that comes closest to bullying—when several classmates gather around Shota and proclaim him a “good fatty”—seems to be born more of ignorance than genuine malice. And, of course, characters argue or disappoint one another. They’re not perfect sunshiney friends 100% of the time, but that doesn’t prevent them from being friends and may, in fact, bring them closer as they recognize their own faults in others.

MJ: As our time runs out, I guess we’d better wind this down. But honestly, I could talk about this manga forever. It’s a favorite that surprises me with its warmth and freshness every time I reread.

Thanks, all of you, for joining me here during such a busy week!

Velveteen & Mandala

August 15, 2011 by Katherine Dacey 14 Comments

Let’s just call this spade a spade: Jiro Matsumoto’s Velveteen & Mandala is a phantasmagoria of zombie-slaying, nudity, and poop. Though Velveteen seems calibrated to shock readers into nervous laughter, it’s never clear if Matsumoto has a greater point to make, as the manga lacks any overarching sense of narrative direction or social commentary.

The volume consists of fourteen loosely connected vignettes starring Velveteen, a ditzy blonde, and Mandala, her frenemy. Both are living on the outskirts of Tokyo, though the time is left to the reader’s imagination; all we know is that a war has ravaged the city, reducing it to a weedy sprawl of corpses, tanks, and abandoned buildings. In some of the stories, the two wield pistols and patrol their territory, shooting anything in sight; in others, they forage for food; and in others, their girlish horseplay shades in sadism or sexual violence.

The first three chapters are innocuous, documenting the minutiae of the girls’ day-to-day existence. Velveteen lives in an amnesiac fog, snapping to consciousness only when she devises a new technique for torturing Mandala. Mandala, too, delights in annoying her friend, adopting verbal mannerisms that drive Velveteen to violent distraction. Neither seems particularly bright; their dialogue and destructive behavior make them seem like a pair of mean-spirited ko-gals.

The series takes a turn for the ugly in “The Super,” a brief story introducing a nameless, pantsless man to whom Velveteen administers a sharp crack on the head. From there on, Matsumoto begins playing up the scatological angle. In subsequent chapters, we’re treated to numerous scenes of Velveteen defecating and vomiting, as well as images of her exposing herself.

The nadir is a gang rape scene in which Velveteen narrowly escapes her captors thanks to an explosive bout of indigestion. I’m guessing — perhaps wrongly — that Matsumoto intended this episode as a particularly nasty joke, designed to an elicit an appreciative “Dude! That’s so gross!” from readers. But as a feminist, it’s impossible not to find this passage yet another tiresome example of a male artist using sexual violence to titillate and shock the reader.

Making things worse is that Matsumoto doesn’t just suggest that Velveteen is dirty, he literally covers her and her would-be assailants in her own filth. Nothing about the character or the story suggests that Matsumoto is trying to make a greater point about sexual violence, level the playing field between victim and attacker, or make the reader uncomfortably aware of his arousal at the scene. If anything, the cruelly unflattering way in which Matsumoto portrays Velveteen suggests a deep contempt for teenage girls.

Perhaps the most frustrating thing about Velveteen & Mandala is that Matsumoto is a genuinely good artist. His linework is superb, reminiscent of Taiyo Matsumoto and Daisuke Igurashi; it’s scratchy and energetic, well-suited to depicting the urban wasteland in which the story unfolds. His characters’ faces are superbly animated, too; few artists can draw malicious glee or surprise with such precision, even if that skill is put in service of drawing a thoroughly repellent cast.

Yet for all the obvious artistry behind Velveteen & Mandala, it’s a stretch to call this book a Hobbesian meditation on survival. Matsumoto’s dialogue is too stylized to register as genuine communication, while his fixation on the most bodily aspects of existence comes off as coprophilia, not meaningful commentary on the human condition. A more thoughtful artist might have found a way to put an intelligent or funny spin on the schoolgirls-slay-zombies premise, but in Matsumoto’s hands, the underlying message seems to be that teenage girls are just as nasty and despicable as the rest of us, as evidenced by the fact that they poop and puke, too.

Review copy provided by Vertical, Inc. Velveteen & Mandala will be released on August 30, 2011.

VELVETEEN & MANDALA • BY JIRO MATSUMOTO • VERTICAL, INC. • 344 pp. • RATING: MATURE (18+)

Velveteen & Mandala

August 15, 2011 by Katherine Dacey

Jiro Matsumoto’s Velveteen & Mandala, a phantasmagoria of zombie-slaying, nudity, and poop, seems calibrated to shock readers into nervous laughter, though it’s never entirely clear if Matsumoto has a greater point to make. Like many of the shorts in the AX anthology, Velveteen & Mandala lacks any overarching sense of narrative direction or social commentary. The volume consists of fourteen loosely connected vignettes starring Velveteen, a ditzy blonde, and Mandala, her frenemy. Both are living on the outskirts of Tokyo, though the time is left to the reader’s imagination; all we know is that a war has ravaged the city, reducing it to a weedy sprawl of corpses, tanks, and abandoned buildings. In some of the stories, the two wield pistols and patrol their territory, shooting anything in sight; in others, they forage for food; and in others, their girlish horseplay shades in sadism or sexual violence.

The first three chapters are relatively innocuous, documenting the minutiae of the girls’ day-to-day existence. Velveteen lives in an amnesiac fog, snapping to consciousness only when she devises a new technique for torturing Mandala. Mandala, too, delights in annoying her friend, adopting verbal mannerisms that drive Velveteen to violent distraction. Neither seems particularly bright; their dialogue and destructive behavior make them seem like a pair of mean-spirited ko-gals.

The series takes a turn for the ugly in “The Super,” a brief story introducing a nameless, pantsless man to whom Velveteen administers a sharp crack on the head. (She wants to keys to his secret stash of weapons. And taxidermy animals. Yes, we’re in Underground Comix territory, folks.) From there on, Matsumoto begins playing up the scatological angle; we’re treated to numerous scenes of Velveteen defecating and vomiting, as well as images of her exposing herself.

The nadir is a gang rape scene in which Velveteen narrowly escapes her captors thanks to an explosive bout of indigestion. I’m guessing — perhaps wrongly — that Matsumoto intended this episode as a particularly nasty joke, designed to an elicit an appreciative “Dude! That’s so gross!” from readers. But as a feminist, it’s impossible not to find this passage yet another tiresome example of a male artist using sexual violence to titillate and shock the reader. (The loving way in which he draws a semi-naked Velveteen only confirms the pornographic impression.) Making things worse is that Matsumoto doesn’t just suggest that Velveteen is dirty, he literally covers her and her would-be assailants in her own filth. Nothing about the character or the story suggests that Matsumoto is trying to make a greater point about sexual violence, or level the playing between victim and attacker, or make the reader uncomfortably aware of his arousal at the scene; if anything, the cruelly unflattering way in which Matsumoto portrays Velveteen suggests a deep contempt for teenage girls.

Perhaps the most frustrating thing about Velveteen & Mandala is that Matsumoto is a genuinely good artist. His linework is superb, reminiscent of Taiyo Matsumoto and Daisuke Igurashi; it’s scratchy and energetic, well-suited to depicting the urban wasteland in which the story unfolds. His characters’ faces are superbly animated, too; few artists can draw malicious glee or surprise with such precision, even if that skill is put in service of drawing a thoroughly repellent cast.

Yet for all the obvious artistry behind Velveteen & Mandala, it’s a stretch to call this book a Hobbesian meditation on survival. Matsumoto’s dialogue is too stylized to register as genuine communication, while his fixation on the most bodily aspects of existence comes off as coprophilia, not meaningful commentary on the human condition. A more thoughtful artist might have found a way to put an intelligent or funny spin on the schoolgirls-slay-zombies premise, but in Matsumoto’s hands, the underlying message seems to be that teenage girls are just as nasty and despicable as the rest of us, as evidenced by the fact that they poop and puke, too.

Review copy provided by Vertical, Inc. Velveteen & Mandala will be released on August 30, 2011.

VELVETEEN & MANDALA • BY JIRO MATSUMOTO • VERTICAL, INC. • 344 pp. • RATING: MATURE (18+)

Pick of the Week: Short Stack

August 15, 2011 by Sean Gaffney, MJ, David Welsh, Katherine Dacey and Michelle Smith 9 Comments

With only five new manga releases shipping to Midown Comics this week, what will our bloggers pick? See below to find out!

SEAN: It’s a smaller week this time around, but even if there were tons of titles, my pick would likely be the same. I found the first volume of Q Hayashida’s Dorohedoro to be my favorite out of all the SigIkki titles, and subsequent volumes have only added to my enjoyment. Its grim and unforgiving fantasy dystopia is lovingly detailed (you can pore through the backgrounds for hours), and its plot straight out of anyone’s nightmares (ever wake up with your head replaced with a giant lizard’s?). The reason that I can deal with its sordid underbelly is the wicked (and equally violent) sense of humor it has, with its main cast never seeming to let the bad things that happen to them crush their spirits. In fact, Ciaman and Nikaido, and their ‘evil’ counterparts Shin and Noi, can be quite jovial! Give this quirky series a try (if you don’t mind blood, it’s quite violent.) Plus, female creator!

MJ: This is a tricky pick for me, with nothing I’m really excited about shipping into Midtown Comics this week. With that in mind, I’m going to go completely off the list and get into the spirit of this week’s Manga Moveable Feast by recommending that everyone pick up something by Fumi Yoshinaga. My rereads this week include favorite older series Flower of Life and Antique Bakery, but there is plenty of newer or current Yoshinaga to check out if those are hard to find. Both Yen Press (Not Love But Delicious Foods Make Me So Happy) and Viz Media (Ooku, All My Darling Daughters) have served up recent helpings of Yoshinaga that should be relatively easy to acquire. I recommend keeping some snacks handy. Reading Yoshinaga always makes me hungry.

DAVID: It might have escaped your notice, but our long, national nightmare is finally over, and the Eisner Awards have finally given a prize to Naoki Urasawa. After an enormous number of nominations, he won a 2011 Eisner for 20th Century Boys. Conveniently enough, the 16th volume of this series arrives this Wednesday. Equally convenient is the fact that this is my favorite Urasawa title to be released in English, so I have no problem recommending it. One of my few complaints with Urasawa’s work is his inclination toward over-seriousness, so the generally wry tone of this series is especially welcome. It’s a great thriller that doesn’t neglect humor as it spins its various yarns. (Oh, and if you happen to have the Viz app on one of your various devices, you can now read Oishinbo in that format. This is something that bears repeating.)

KATE: After reading Bluewater’s unauthorized bio-comic of Lady Gaga, I’m morbidly curious about Fame: 50 Cent. The Lady Gaga comic was almost impossible to describe: it featured a middle-aged rock journalist who reluctantly agrees to write an article about Gaga, only to have a surreal experience when he listens to “Bad Romance.” (He actually imagines that he’s Lady Gaga; the sight of a balding, hairy man in one of Gaga’s most outre costumes was worth the cover price alone.) I don’t know that the 50 Cent story lends itself to such an avant-garde presentation, but given the sheer weirdness of Bluewater’s other Fame comics, I can’t imagine it will be boring.

MICHELLE Sometimes I feel like the only person who likes Bokurano: Ours. Indeed, it is very grim—there are quite a few similarities with Ikigami, actually—and somewhat repetitive, as members of a group of children sit quietly in the background until it is their turn to sacrifice their life piloting a giant robot that is ostensibly defending Earth. As you might expect, this is very depressing, but some creepy circumstances surrounding the arrival of the aliens makes me question is any of this even real? In addition to being cruel and horrible, is all of this just futile? Just a game? It’s this underlying mystery that keeps me coming back despite the need for a fluffy shoujo transfusion I typically feel afterwards.

Readers, what looks good to you this week?