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Katherine Dacey

Bookshelf Briefs 7/10/11

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Best Manga You’re Not Reading: Samurai Crusader

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Whenever I see Ryoichi Ikegami’s name attached to a project, I know two things: first, that the manga will be beautifully illustrated, and second, that the plot will be completely nuts.

Samurai Crusader, a globe-trotting, name-dropping adventure from the early 1990s, provides an instructive example. The story revolves around a young martial artist who teams up with struggling novelist Ernest Hemingway — yes, that Ernest Hemingway — to prevent an unscrupulous Japanese general from invading Shanghai with Nazi assistance. And if the thought of Hemingway as a butt-kicking action hero isn’t crazy enough, Ikeda and writer Hiroi Oji populate the story with such colorful bit players as a sadistic female military general, a bare-breasted priestess, an axe-wielding Aryan warrior, a demon whisperer, and a ninja with razor-sharp teeth. Ikeda and Oji don’t skimp on the cameos, either; Pablo Picasso, Joseph Goebbels, and Hermann Goering all have brief but memorable walk-on roles, as do Hitler and Emperor Akihito.

This motley assortment of characters are all chasing Kusanagi, a Japanese sword so expertly crafted that it can sever a canon in two. But Kusanagi isn’t just an elegant weapon; it’s a mystical object, capable of bestowing great power on its owner. The Nazis and the Japanese military alike believe that Kusanagi is the key to world domination, and double-cross each other in hopes of stealing it from the Oritsuin clan, a noble Japanese family. Kumomaru, the youngest member of the Oritsuins, is determined to stop both parties from abusing Kusanagi’s power, racing from Paris to Shanghai in a valiant effort to foil Japanese imperial ambitions in China. Along the way Kumomaru befriends Hemingway, beds a sexy French cat burglar, and falls in with a gang of Chinese warriors who disguise themselves as cooks. (As a sign of just how badass these cook-warriors are, each high-ranking solider in the organization has a dragon tattoo… on his tongue.)

As awesomely silly as the plot may be, the real attraction of Samurai Crusader is the art. The period settings provide Ikegami a swell excuse to draw zeppelins and biplanes, Nazi uniforms and samurai formal wear, French ballrooms and Chinese dives. No detail goes overlooked; even the most inconsequential characters’ clothing is meticulously rendered, and the street lamps in every city are drawn with such care as to distinguish a Parisian boulevard from a Shanghai corner.

The character designs, too, are arresting in their specificity; Ikegami’s great strength as an artist is his ability to convey character through odd facial features and posture, whether he’s drawing a crooked industrialist or a street urchin. Though his lead characters are impossibly attractive, Ikegami’s best creation, by far, is Juzo, a stealthy martial artist with the most distinctive set of choppers since James Bond crossed paths with Jaws. Juzo’s shark-like teeth, wild hair, and demonic squint make him an excellent foil for the handsome Kumomaru; Juzo moves with the lethal precision of a cobra, twisting his body into extraordinary positions to better deploy his arsenal of knives, wires, words, and pistols. Oh, and those teeth? They make swell weapons, too.

The only downside to Samurai Crusader is the dialogue. Though the story unfurls at a furious pace, the story grinds to a halt whenever Kumomaru crosses paths with his arch-nemesis, the deluded General Kamishima. Their all-caps exchanges feel more like policy discussions than real arguments, despite Ikegami’s best efforts to stage the scenes as dramatically as possible. Sweat drops bead, veins pulse and pop, but Ikegami can’t disguise the fact that these speeches are kind of a drag. (Sample: “Independence for all of Asia should be the way of Japan! We need national self-determination!”) What redeems these windy passages are the shoot-outs, tank fights, and sword play that proceed and follow them; aside from John Woo and Andrew Lau, few people can make bloodletting look as elegant as Ikegami does.

Perhaps the best way to summarize Samurai Crusader‘s appeal is to say that it has all the virtues of Crying Freeman and Wounded Man — crazy action scenes, sexy leads, mustache-twirling villains — without the copious nudity and sexual violence that can give even the most committed manga fan pause. Readers interested in tracking down copies should note that all three volumes of Samurai Crusader are out of print, though reasonably priced copies are readily available on Amazon and eBay. Highly recommended.

SAMURAI CRUSADER: THE KUMOMARU CHRONICLES, VOLS. 1-3 • STORY BY HIROI OJI, ART BY RYOICHI IKEGAMI • VIZ COMMUNICATIONS, INC. • NO RATING

The Best Manga You’re Not Reading: Samurai Crusader

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Whenever I see Ryoichi Ikegami’s name attached to a project, I know two things: first, that the manga will be beautifully illustrated, and second, that the plot will be completely nuts. Samurai Crusader, a globe-trotting, name-dropping adventure from the early 1990s, provides an instructive example. The story revolves around a young martial artist who teams up with struggling novelist Ernest Hemingway — yes, that Ernest Hemingway — to prevent an unscrupulous Japanese general from invading Shanghai with Nazi assistance. And if the thought of Hemingway as a butt-kicking action hero isn’t crazy enough, Ikeda and writer Hiroi Oji populate the story with such colorful bit players as a sadistic female military general, a bare-breasted priestess, an axe-wielding Aryan warrior, a demon whisperer, and a ninja with razor-sharp teeth. Ikeda and Oji don’t skimp on the cameos, either; Pablo Picasso, Joseph Goebbels, and Hermann Goering all have brief but memorable walk-on roles, as do Hitler and Emperor Akihito.

This motley assortment of characters are all chasing Kusanagi, a Japanese sword so expertly crafted that it can sever a canon in two. But Kusanagi isn’t just an elegant weapon; it’s a mystical object, capable of bestowing great power on its owner. The Nazis and the Japanese military alike believe that Kusanagi is the key to world domination, and double-cross each other in hopes of stealing it from the Oritsuin clan, a noble Japanese family. Kumomaru, the youngest member of the Oritsuins, is determined to stop both parties from abusing Kusanagi’s power, racing from Paris to Shanghai in a valiant effort to foil Japanese imperial ambitions in China. Along the way Kumomaru befriends Hemingway, beds a sexy French cat burglar, and falls in with a gang of Chinese warriors who disguise themselves as cooks. (As a sign of just how badass these cook-warriors are, each high-ranking solider in the organization has a dragon tattoo… on his tongue.)

As awesomely silly as the plot may be, the real attraction of Samurai Crusader is the art. The period settings provide Ikegami a swell excuse to draw zeppelins and biplanes, Nazi uniforms and samurai formal wear, French ballrooms and Chinese dives. No detail goes overlooked; even the most inconsequential characters’ clothing is meticulously rendered, and the street lamps in every city are drawn with such care as to distinguish a Parisian boulevard from a Shanghai corner.

The character designs, too, are arresting in their specificity; Ikegami’s great strength as an artist is his ability to convey character through odd facial features and posture, whether he’s drawing a crooked industrialist or a street urchin. Though his lead characters are impossibly attractive, Ikegami’s best creation, by far, is Juzo, a stealthy martial artist with the most distinctive set of choppers since James Bond crossed paths with Jaws. Juzo’s shark-like teeth, wild hair, and demonic squint make him an excellent foil for the handsome Kumomaru; Juzo moves with the lethal precision of a cobra, twisting his body into extraordinary positions to better deploy his arsenal of knives, wires, words, and pistols. Oh, and those teeth? They make swell weapons, too.

The only downside to Samurai Crusader is the dialogue. Though the story unfurls at a furious pace, the story grinds to a halt whenever Kumomaru crosses paths with his arch-nemesis, the deluded General Kamishima. Their all-caps exchanges feel more like policy discussions than real arguments, despite Ikegami’s best efforts to stage the scenes as dramatically as possible. Sweat drops bead, veins pulse and pop, but Ikegami can’t disguise the fact that these speeches are kind of a drag. (Sample: “Independence for all of Asia should be the way of Japan! We need national self-determination!”) What redeems these windy passages are the shoot-outs, tank fights, and sword play that proceed and follow them; aside from John Woo and Andrew Lau, few people can make bloodletting look as elegant as Ikegami does.

Perhaps the best way to summarize Samurai Crusader‘s appeal is to say that it has all the virtues of Crying Freeman and Wounded Man — crazy action scenes, sexy leads, mustache-twirling villains — without the copious nudity and sexual violence that can give even the most committed manga fan pause. Readers interested in tracking down copies should note that all three volumes of Samurai Crusader are out of print, though reasonably priced copies are readily available on Amazon and eBay. Highly recommended.

SAMURAI CRUSADER: THE KUMOMARU CHRONICLES, VOLS. 1-3 • STORY BY HIROI OJI, ART BY RYOICHI IKEGAMI • VIZ COMMUNICATIONS, INC. • NO RATING

Monster Hunter Orage, Vol. 1

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As a critic, few words fill me with more trepidation than “inspired by the popular video game.” I’ve read my share of video game manga, most of which were thin on plot and characterization but heavy on explanation. Every so often, however, I run across a series like Monster Hunter Orage, which manages to stay true to its roots while offering something to readers who’ve never played the game.

What makes Monster Hunter work is Hiro Mashima’s script, which does a solid job of translating game play into genuine plot. In the original game, players answered to a town guild, accepting orders to hunt or capture a variety of monsters. Players could fly solo or team up with one, two, or three other gamers to bring down bigger monsters and boost their skill rating. (The ultimate object of the game was to attain the highest skill level, rather than accumulate the greatest number of points.)

In the manga, Mashima builds a story around Shiki, a hunter on a quest to find Myo Galuna, a.k.a. the Thunder Dragon. Shiki is a Seal Hunter, a special category of monster-slayer who’s free to pursue game without interference from town guilds. Though he’s strong and skilled, his brash behavior and social cluelessness prove serious barriers to finding comrades — that is, until he meets Ailee, a fiercely independent hunter who shares Shiki’s desire to find the Thunder Dragon, and Sakya, a gunner who wants to avenge her father’s death.

Shiki and Ailee’s peppery rapport provides a welcome jolt of comic energy, whether they’re arguing about how to kill a monster or how to catch dinner. Like many of Mashima’s heroines, Ailee has little tolerance for teenage male foolishness, and frequently dismisses Shiki with a withering comment. (When they first meet, for example, Shiki blurts out, “Say, haven’t we met before?”, to which Ailee replies, “It’s been forever since I heard that stale pick-up line. Wait. Don’t respond. Just go somewhere else.”) Other supporting characters play a similar role in keeping the tone breezy: the Prince, a preening, foolish hunter, is font of malapropisms, while Maru, the Prince’s sidekick, provides an energetic stream of patter whenever the two appear together.

The art is as nimble as the script, relying heavily on Mashima’s crisp linework to give definition to his characters, monsters, and landscapes; he’s as sparing with screentone as Arina Tanemura is with white space. Though the characters have marvelous, elastic faces, capable of registering fifteen degrees of surprise and indignation, the monsters are unimpressive; they look a lot like dinosaurs with extra feathers and appendages. Put the men and the monsters together, however, and the results are terrific: the fights are graceful and swift, allowing the main characters to demonstrate their martial arts acumen without dragging out the conflict over three or four chapters.

If I had any complaint about Monster Hunter Orage, it’s that the story quickly falls into a predictable pattern. The outcome of the fights is never in question, nor is Shiki’s role as the hunter who will ultimately be the one to outsmart the monster. Even efforts to introduce subplots only go so far; by the end of volume one, it’s clear that the Prince will do anything to destroy Shiki, but his buffoonish behavior and general incompetence make him a less-than-credible threat to the heroes.

But if Monster Hunter isn’t as deep as it could be, it’s still a lot of fun, propelled by a goofy, anything-for-a-laugh script, appealing characters, and plenty of man-on-monster action. And at four volumes, the series won’t overstay its welcome. A good beach read.

MONSTER HUNTER ORAGE, VOL. 1 • BY HIRO MASHIMA • KODANSHA COMICS USA • 192 pp. • RATING: TEEN (13+)

Monster Hunter Orage, Vol. 1

by

As a critic, few words fill me with more trepidation than “inspired by the popular video game.” I’ve read my share of video game manga, most of which were thin on plot and characterization but heavy on explanation. Every so often, however, I run across a series like Monster Hunter Orage, which manages to stay true to its roots while offering something to readers who’ve never played the game.

What makes Monster Hunter work is Hiro Mashima’s script, which does a solid job of translating game play into genuine plot. In the original game, players answered to a town guild, accepting orders to hunt or capture a variety of monsters. Players could fly solo or team up with one, two, or three other gamers to bring down bigger monsters and boost their skill rating. (The ultimate object of the game was to attain the highest skill level, rather than accumulate the greatest number of points.)

In the manga, Mashima builds a story around Shiki, a hunter on a quest to find Myo Galuna, a.k.a. the Thunder Dragon. Shiki is a Seal Hunter, a special category of monster-slayer who’s free to pursue game without interference from town guilds. Though he’s strong and skilled, his brash behavior and social cluelessness prove serious barriers to finding comrades — that is, until he meets Ailee, a fiercely independent hunter who shares Shiki’s desire to find the Thunder Dragon, and Sakya, a gunner who wants to avenge her father’s death.

Shiki and Ailee’s peppery rapport provides a welcome jolt of comic energy, whether they’re arguing about how to kill a monster or how to catch dinner. Like many of Mashima’s heroines, Ailee has little tolerance for teenage male foolishness, and frequently dismisses Shiki with a withering comment. (When they first meet, for example, Shiki blurts out, “Say, haven’t we met before?”, to which Ailee replies, “It’s been forever since I heard that stale pick-up line. Wait. Don’t respond. Just go somewhere else.”) Other supporting characters play a similar role in keeping the tone breezy: the Prince, a preening, foolish hunter, is font of malapropisms, while Maru, the Prince’s sidekick, provides an energetic stream of patter whenever the two appear together.

The art is as nimble as the script, relying heavily on Mashima’s crisp linework to give definition to his characters, monsters, and landscapes; he’s as sparing with screentone as Arina Tanemura is with white space. Though the characters have marvelous, elastic faces, capable of registering fifteen degrees of surprise and indignation, the monsters are unimpressive; they look a lot like dinosaurs with extra feathers and appendages. Put the men and the monsters together, however, and the results are terrific: the fights are graceful and swift, allowing the main characters to demonstrate their martial arts acumen without dragging out the conflict over three or four chapters.

If I had any complaint about Monster Hunter Orage, it’s that the story quickly falls into a predictable pattern. The outcome of the fights is never in question, nor is Shiki’s role as the hunter who will ultimately be the one to outsmart the monster. Even efforts to introduce subplots only go so far; by the end of volume one, it’s clear that the Prince will do anything to destroy Shiki, but his buffoonish behavior and general incompetence make him a less-than-credible threat to the heroes.

But if Monster Hunter isn’t as deep as it could be, it’s still a lot of fun, propelled by a goofy, anything-for-a-laugh script, appealing characters, and plenty of man-on-monster action. And at four volumes, the series won’t overstay its welcome. A good beach read.

MONSTER HUNTER ORAGE, VOL. 1 • BY HIRO MASHIMA • KODANSHA COMICS USA • 192 pp. • RATING: TEEN (13+)

Pick of the Week: Wandering Son

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It’s a fairly spectacular week at Midtown Comics, and though the Manga Bookshelf bloggers go nearly unanimously for a single title, there’s plenty to choose from for all. Check out our picks below!

MICHELLE: After last week’s slim pickings, this week’s list is positively bountiful. I am tempted to pick the 42nd and final volume of The Prince of Tennis, because even though I complain about its many flaws, I still love it and hope the sequel gets licensed soon. But the mantle of manga blogger comes with the responsibility of directing readers’ attention to the best manga has to offer, and this week I award that distinction to the first volume of Wandering Son from Fantagraphics. Simply put, it’s the story of a transgender girl who meets a transgender boy. More, it’s about childhood innocence and the significance of things. It’s also lovely, subtle, and poignant. How long ’til volume two?

MJ: Normally, this is where I’d pick one of the many other great offerings on the list, like the new omnibus of Magic Knight Rayearth or the latest volume of Chi’s Sweet Home, but in this case I simply have to agree with Michelle. Wandering Son was one of my most-anticipated releases this year, and I’m absolutely thrilled to see it finally hit the shelves. This title should be on everyone’s must-buy lists this week.

DAVID: Given how much I enjoyed the first Kekkaishi 3-in-1 volume, I could easily pick that, but there’s just no arguing with the prospect of finally having Wandering Son in my greedy grasp. Unanimity of opinion may be dull, but it’s unavoidable this week.

KATE: I’d be irresponsible if I didn’t also join the chorus of folks urging you to buy Wandering Son. So, go buy it!

That said, it’s also a shockingly good week for manga, with stuff for every demographic. VIZ is releasing its first two Mameshiba books for young readers — and really, what’s not to like about talking legumes? — as well as several omnibus editions of popular shonen titles like Naruto and latest volume of Skip Beat!. Vertical is releasing the sixth volume of Chi’s Sweet Home, one of the few all-ages titles that speaks to readers as young as five and as old as fifty. And Kodansha Comics is releasing its first new series, Monster Hunter Orage. I’m normally immune to the charms of manga based on video games, but I was pleasantly surprised by just how fun Monster Hunter turned out to be. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that Hiro Mashima is the author, or that the story features lots of tough, smart female characters who find the hero’s brash stupidity endlessly annoying, but the manga’s video-game origins prove a fertile wellspring for interesting storylines. So my pick this week is volume one of Monster Hunter Orage.

Readers, what looks good to you this week?

Bookshelf Briefs 7/4/11

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This week, Michelle, Kate, & David take a look at new releases from Viz Media, Yen Press, Vertical, and Seven Seas.

Black Butler, Vol. 6 | By Yana Taboso | Yen Press -After several mediocre, talky volumes, Black Butler returns to form with a deliciously spooky plotline involving a traveling circus. Sebastian and Ciel once again go undercover, this time as a knife-throwing, high-wire act. Though the gothic costumes and campy dialogue may remind readers of Kaori Yuki’s Godchild, Yana Taboso is a more disciplined storyteller than Yuki, focusing less on atmosphere and more on narrative. As a result, volume six unfurls at a brisk clip, offering readers just the right amount of action, humor, and horror; anyone who’s ever wondered what really goes on beneath the big tent will have their worst suspicions confirmed by Sebastian and Ciel’s discovery. – Katherine Dacey

Blue Exorcist, Vol. 2 | By Kazue Kato | Viz Media – I know Michelle just reviewed this last week, but I have to reinforce the interesting spectacle of Kato trying to do interesting, specific things with this story and with her attempts to insert some of the shônen-y-est things that were ever shônen-y. Among the students at the school for exorcists is a young man named Suguro who seems to have sprung fully formed from the pages of the chapter about shônen rivals in Even a Monkey Can Draw Manga. His temperament and design are fresh from the factory. Fortunately, the rest of the class consists of interesting or amusing types that show a lot more promise for future storytelling. On the whole, this tale of budding demon fighters is building on the strengths of the first volume and largely avoiding its weaknesses. I’ll be sticking around to see how these kids grow into their roles. – David Welsh

Chi’s Sweet Home, Vol. 6 | By Kanata Konami | Vertical, Inc. – For me, a lot of the fun of this series is the way that Konami keeps generating new material without cheating by making her kitten protagonist too human in her thinking. She’s getting into Chi’s head instead of inserting unlikely or implausible thoughts there. As cute as the series is, there’s an impressive level of narrative fidelity in evidence. Konami respects pets and the ways humans care for and react to them. Of course, it’s also very entertaining, especially for animal lovers like myself who enjoy trying to figure out just what that furry critter is thinking as it undertakes evidently complex adventures that I can never fully understand. I do sometimes wonder about the learning curve of Chi’s human family. Everybody knows you don’t leave a cake on a low table with a kitten in the house. – David Welsh

Cross Game, Vol. 4 | By Mitsuru Adachi | VIZ Media – When it comes to Cross Game, I simply love it too much to linger over any areas for possible improvement. I’ve come to accept the frequent fourth-wall breakage, for example, and even some unfortunate potty humor can’t dim my enthusiasm as Ko and the Seishun team begin competing in the regional tournament. In addition to the riveting baseball action, which is a phrase I never thought I’d be uttering, Adachi shows, through a series of small moments, how in sync Ko and Aoba really are. It’s impressive enough that they share the ability to tell when the other is nursing a hidden injury, but when Ko senses Aoba’s unspoken melancholy at being left out of a post-victory celebration, it leads to one of the nicest moments in the volume. Even if you don’t think you like sports manga, you ought to give Cross Game a try. – Michelle Smith

Kobato, Vol. 4 | By CLAMP | Yen Press – Kobato may be CLAMP’s strangest manga to date. On one level, it’s a saccharine story about a clumsy but sweet girl on a quest to heal broken hearts. But on another level, it’s a bizarre fantasy in which exiled angels have been condemned to walk the Earth in the form of bears, stuffed animals, and one-eyed jack-rabbits. (At least, that’s what I think Ginsei is meant to be.) The two plots don’t mesh as seamlessly as they should, thanks to a confusing script; the angels’ conversations teeter on the brink of pompous nonsense, and it’s never entirely clear if CLAMP is being serious, or is subverting the angels-among-us genre. The artwork, however, is lovely to look at, filled with sensual lines, playful images, and gracefully executed character designs that make it easy to overlook Kobato‘s more serious flaws. – Katherine Dacey

Natsume’s Book of Friends, Vol. 7 | By Yuki Midorikawa | Viz Media – I think this series lost something when it shifted from more episodic storytelling to longer-form arcs, but I still enjoy it a great deal. In this volume, Natsume tries to figure out who or what is conducting a series of vicious attacks on yôkai and crosses paths with a ruthless exorcist with mysterious motives. It’s a solid mystery, but it lacks the delicacy and emotional resonance that this story displays at its best. It does add a few more shades to Natsume’s expanding world view and the occasional disillusionment that comes with it. There is an excellent side story that features a game of tag between Natsume and his yôkai companions that’s both raucous and wistful. And there’s an unrelated bonus tale that’s almost purely wistful in the best sense of the word. The meat of the volume may not be perfect, but the sides are choice. – David Welsh

Sakura Hime: The Legend of Princess Sakura, Vol. 2 | By Arina Tanemura | VIZ Media – The first volume of Sakura Hime: Legend of Princess Sakura earned the series a second look by introducing a murderous love interest. Though volume two curtails this conflict pretty quickly by having the Emperor propose a youko-hunting mission by which Sakura (part youko herself) can prove her loyalty to humanity and thereby achieve his protection, the story is still much darker than one might expect from Arina Tanemura. Oh, sure, there are bishounen aplenty and loads of romantic angst, but Tanemura seems to be making a real effort to stretch the boundaries of what kind of story fits in Ribon, and is even reining in her use of screentone! Sakura Hime isn’t perfect—it’s still pretty shallow and generic—but I think Tanemura deserves some kind of “most improved” sticker in recognition of her efforts. – Michelle Smith

Toradora!, Vol. 2 | Story by Yuyuko Takemiya, Art by Zekkyo | Seven Seas – If you remember how awkward boy-girl friendships were back in high school, you’ll appreciate Toradora!, a slapstick comedy about two teens who agree to help each other improve their romantic prospects. The twist? Taiga and Ryuuji spend so much time together that their classmates conclude that they’re dating, defeating the very purpose of their alliance. Volume two has its share of overly familiar moments, but it also boasts some genuinely funny scenes of Taiga and Ryuuji venting their frustrations and sharing embarrassing secrets. The only thing that prevents Toradora! from being a slam dunk are the supporting characters; Ryuuji’s helpless, dumb-as-toast mother is one of the least appealing second bananas in recent memory. Still, that’s a minor criticism of a series that captures the exquisite awfulness of teenage courtship with humor, warmth, and energy. – Katherine Dacey

The Betrayal Knows My Name, Vol. 1

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For years, Tokyopop specialized in a particular genre — call it “forbidden bromance,” for want of a better term — in which two handsome, impeccably groomed young men teetered on the brink of a relationship. That relationship usually faced a serious obstacle: one might be a demon and the other a human, for example, or one may have killed the other in a previous life. Most of the story was devoted to uncovering the reason that fate united them, providing the heroes ample time for impassioned conversations and meaningful looks.

At their best, titles like Tokyo Bablyon, Silver Diamond, and X-Kai were silly but engrossing, with plot twists as gloriously melodramatic as an episode of Passions; at their worst, they read like bad slash fic, with purple dialogue and an abundance of poorly explained plot details. Yen Press’ latest offering, The Betrayal Knows My Name, has all the requisite elements to be a gas — pretty-boy leads, past-life tragedy, perfectly moussed locks — but never quite rises to the level of a great guilty pleasure.

Not that volume one wants for activity; every chapter is packed with action sequences, murderous demons, dramatic confrontations, and shocking revelations. What Betrayal lacks is the kind of tightly constructed narrative that made the best bromances such a treat to read. The characters barely rise above type, while script flirts with incoherence at every turn, introducing new characters and subplots at such a furious pace that the central love story is often in danger of being overshadowed. Even the dialogue sags; when the characters aren’t explaining things to one another, they’re so wrapped up in their own thoughts that their monologues become tedious. (Sample: “We can’t survive on principles alone. And everyone would like to live without getting tainted at all. But that’s not how things are.”)

That’s a pity, because The Betrayal Knows My Name looks a lot like my favorite bromances. The character designs owe an obvious debt to CLAMP’s high Baroque period, when characters wore trench coats and dog collars and always had windswept hair. And Hotaru Odagiri certainly knows how to draw brooding men; her heroes, Yuki and Zess, spend a great deal of time staring into space while wearing soulful expressions. (They also know how to pop a pose for readers, allowing us to savor the sheer ridiculousness of their outfits, and the artful way in which they leave their shirts unbuttoned to the waist.)

Yet the prettiness of the character designs can’t camouflage the fact that Betrayal is straining too hard for effect; what should be a great, emo-porn pleasure is something of a chore to read, thanks to its relentless pace, clumsy dialogue, and chemistry-free leads. Readers who can’t get enough of the forbidden bromance genre may find Betrayal an adequate fix; others are encouraged to hold out for Tokyo Babylon‘s return this fall.

Review copy provided by Yen Press.

THE BETRAYAL KNOWS MY NAME, VOL. 1 • BY HOTARO ODAGIRI • YEN PRESS • 368 pp. • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+)

The Betrayal Knows My Name, Vol. 1

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For years, Tokyopop specialized in a particular genre — call it “forbidden bromance,” for want of a better term — in which two handsome, impeccably groomed young men teetered on the brink of a relationship. That relationship usually faced a serious obstacle: one might be a demon and the other a human, for example, or one may have killed the other in a previous life. Most of the story was devoted to uncovering the reason that fate united them, providing the heroes ample time for impassioned conversations and meaningful looks.

At their best, titles like Tokyo Bablyon, Silver Diamond, and X-Kai were silly but engrossing, with plot twists as gloriously melodramatic as an episode of Passions; at their worst, they read like bad slash fic, with purple dialogue and an abundance of poorly explained plot details. Yen Press’ latest offering, The Betrayal Knows My Name, has all the requisite elements to be a gas — pretty-boy leads, past-life tragedy, perfectly moussed locks — but never quite rises to the level of a great guilty pleasure.

Not that volume one wants for activity; every chapter is packed with action sequences, murderous demons, dramatic confrontations, and shocking revelations. What Betrayal lacks is the kind of tightly constructed narrative that made the best bromances such a treat to read. The characters barely rise above type, while script flirts with incoherence at every turn, introducing new characters and subplots at such a furious pace that the central love story is often in danger of being overshadowed. Even the dialogue sags; when the characters aren’t explaining things to one another, they’re so wrapped up in their own thoughts that their monologues become tedious. (Sample: “We can’t survive on principles alone. And everyone would like to live without getting tainted at all. But that’s not how things are.”)

That’s a pity, because The Betrayal Knows My Name looks a lot like my favorite bromances. The character designs owe an obvious debt to CLAMP’s high Baroque period, when characters wore trench coats and dog collars and always had windswept hair. And Hotaru Odagiri certainly knows how to draw brooding men; her heroes, Yuki and Zess, spend a great deal of time staring into space while wearing soulful expressions. (They also know how to pop a pose for readers, allowing us to savor the sheer ridiculousness of their outfits, and the artful way in which they leave their shirts unbuttoned to the waist.)

Yet the prettiness of the character designs can’t camouflage the fact that Betrayal is straining too hard for effect; what should be a great, emo-porn pleasure is something of a chore to read, thanks to its relentless pace, clumsy dialogue, and chemistry-free leads. Readers who can’t get enough of the forbidden bromance genre may find Betrayal an adequate fix; others are encouraged to hold out for Tokyo Babylon‘s return this fall.

Review copy provided by Yen Press.

THE BETRAYAL KNOWS MY NAME, VOL. 1 • BY HOTARO ODAGIRI • YEN PRESS • 368 pp. • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+)

Pick of the Week: Women’s Manga

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MJ: Something that’s been on my mind, lately, thanks to a yet-to-be-released podcast David and I recently participated in as well as the relative shortage of adventurous new readers for this month’s Manga Moveable Feast, is how difficult it can be to successfully sell manga intended for female readers, especially adult women. So, given the somewhat lackluster selection this week at Midtown Comics, I asked my fellow critics of the battle robot to join me in recommending a few series for women that tend to get overlooked.

I’ll begin with a recommendation for one of my favorite romantic comedies, Tomoko Ninomiya’s Nodame Cantabile, originally published in Kodansha’s Kiss magazine, and partially released in English by Del Rey Manga. Though the series was very popular in Japan, it never really took off here, leaving its run perilously stalled at 16 volumes (out of a possible 25). The story follows a group of music students through graduate school and into the beginnings of their careers, particularly eccentric pianist Megumi “Nodame” Noda and aspiring conductor Shinichi Chiaki. Though complaints can (and have) been made about the conservative nature of the students’ musical repertoire, the series’ music school setting rings stunningly true to my own experience, and its exploration of ability vs. ambition is pretty hard to beat. More than that, though, it’s terrific romantic comedy that just gets better and better as the series goes on. Though there’s been no inkling at all that Kodansha Comics might pick up here where Del Rey left off, I’d personally walk around in a Nodame sandwich board if I thought that would help make it happen. Give us more Nodame Cantabile! Please?

DAVID: Okay, Hinako Ashihara’s Sand Chronicles (Viz) is technically shôjo, having run in Shogakukan’s Betsucomi, but I believe the estimable Ed Chavez of Vertical once described it as something along the lines of “stealth josei,” so I feel recommending it in this context. I also feel comfortable doing so because it’s flat-out excellent, following its heroine from early adolescence to womanhood, dividing its time pretty much equally among high school, college, and working life, which makes it something quite unique in serial comics, at least in my experience. The scope of the story gives Ashihara so many opportunities to really dig into Ann’s psyche, her milestones, and her choices, good and bad, and Ashihara makes the most of those opportunities. Does Sand Chronicles occasionally indulge in melodrama? Yes, it certainly does, but that melodrama is characterized by sincerity and urgency rather than cheapness and manipulation. The eight-volume core story is supplemented by two additional collections of shorts that give insights into supporting characters and really enhance the whole tapestry.

KATE: At the risk of sounding like a broken record, my recommendation is Mari Okazaki’s Suppli, one of many casualties of Tokyopop’s demise. I’d call it “working girl manga,” but that has an unsavory connotation, so instead I’ll call it “career woman manga.” The story focuses on a twenty-something college grad whose dedication to her job tanks a long-standing relationship. Not surprisingly, Minami turns to work to fill the void left by her boyfriend, pulling all-nighters, pitching her own ideas, and becoming more involved with her co-workers’ personal lives. She soon discovers that the office is teeming with romantic prospects, and plunges into a steamy affair with a co-worker while carrying on an aggressive flirtation with another. Though the sudsy story is a big draw, the art is the real star of Suppli: it’s crazy-gorgeous, filled with some of the most sensual imagery I’ve seen in a licensed manga. (No one does floral imagery quite like Okazaki.) Don’t let Suppli‘s unfinished state deter you from trying it; it’s smart and sexy, and makes an awesome bathtub read.

MICHELLE: I don’t think Fumi Yoshinaga is in danger of being overlooked, but when it comes to manga for adult women, one simply can’t say enough about All My Darling Daughters. The short stories in this collection revolve around Yukiko Kisaragi, a woman whose still-beautiful mother embraces life after a cancer scare and impulsively marries a much younger man. As Yukiko struggles to accept that the relationship is genuine, the other stories flesh out the lives of her friends, acquaintances, and relatives, showing how words and actions can have unintended consequences and that sometimes dreams just don’t come true. That makes it sound like a downer, but really the message is an uplifting one, as Yukiko comes to realize not only that her mother’s new husband is good for her, but that her own life is pretty damned good, as well. Sniffles will ensue, but they’ll be the good kind.

This is just the tip of the iceberg, of course. Readers, what titles would you like to add?

Bookshelf Briefs 6/27/11

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This week, Michelle, MJ, Kate, & David take a look at new releases from Viz Media, Yen Press, and Archie Comics.

Bleach, Vol. 35 | By Tite Kubo | Viz Media – The battle to rescue Orihime and foil Aizen’s plans to destroy Karakura Town continues! Too bad that it mostly does so in the form of an interminable match-up between Kenpachi Zaraki, badass Soul Reaper captain, and Nnoitora, the irksome Arrancar. You just know that when an opponent in shounen manga brags incessantly about how it’s impossible to cut him, he is gonna wind up getting cut. And so it goes, though the fight itself is a confusing mess of blows, explosions, and sound effects like “wooo” and “klang.” There’s finally a bit of progress in Aizen’s plans, and if I cared enough I’d ferret out what seems to be either sloppy plotting or a retcon, but the truth is that it’s really best not to think too much about such things when reading Bleach, which in this volume embodies mindless entertainment at its best. – Michelle Smith

Blue Exorcist, Vol. 2 | By Kazue Kato | Viz Media – Exorcist-in-training Rin has been slacking in class, but when a tough-looking classmate proves to be surprisingly smart, it acts as some motivation to get his act together. Then he and the other students are thrust together for the Esquire Examination, with the pleasing result that we get to know quite a few other kids in a short period of time. There’s a real Hogwarts vibe happening too, with the varieties of courses and specialties available for exorcists. One aspect of the story leaves me cold, though, and that’s Rin’s ultimate goal. Now that I have insight into the Shonen Jump editorial process courtesy of Bakuman。, I can’t help but think that “I’ll become an exorcist so I can defeat Satan!” is someone’s calculated attempt to meet the requirements of a popular battle manga. – Michelle Smith

Highschool of the Dead, Vol. 3 | Story by Saisuke Sato, Art by Shouji Sato | Yen Press – After escaping school grounds, resisting the authority of a charismatic but dangerous teacher, and rescuing a small girl from an undead mob, our heroes stumble across a band of paranoid survivors who believe that the zombies are, in fact, an elaborate government hoax. Though this twist provides welcome relief from the endless parade of panty shots and girl-on-girl teases, Highschool of the Dead is still a chore to read; the dialogue is so stiff and unnatural that it’s hard to suppress a giggle, even when the authors are dead serious. Sloppily staged fight scenes and poorly drawn figures do little to make the very thin story more palatable to discerning zombie fans. – Katherine Dacey

Kimi ni Todoke, Vol. 9 | By Karuho Shiina | Viz Media – As sweet as Kimi ni Todoke is, its one potentially frustrating element is its heroine Sawako’s inability to see herself as equal to her would-be suitor, Kazehaya. Fortunately, her friends (and even one of her foes) finally give her what for in in volume nine, the results of which leave us waiting breathlessly for volume ten. As usual, Karuho Shiina plays things out in perfect high school shoujo romance fashion, while also refreshing the genre as she goes. Shiina pushes Sawako’s stubborn self-deprecation to the point of parody early in the volume, without damaging the series’ sincere tone in the slightest. Meta has never tasted so sweet. Always recommended. – MJ

One Piece, Vol. 57 | By Eiichiro Oda | Viz Media – I never thought I’d type these words about this series, but I’m ready for the current story arc to be over. Luffy, our pirate hero, is struggling mightily to save his brother Ace from a terrible fate. He’s inadvertently assembled an army of new friends and old foes along the way and is waging a pitched battle against the forces of the Navy. This is all executed well, and there are some particular highlights. (Any story arc that heavily features a super-powerful, anarchist drag queen can’t be all bad.) But I can’t get past how much I miss the participation of Luffy’s regular crew, the Straw Hats, and I’m not able to see the virtue in sidelining them during such an important milestone in their captain’s life. Eye-popping mayhem is all well and good, but it’s better when there are old friends in the thick of it.– David Welsh

Time and Again, Vol. 6 | By JiUn Yun | Yen Press – In the final volume of Time and Again, author JiUn Kim explores the family curse that ultimately set Baek-On on the path to becoming an exorcist. A deft mixture of folklore, horror, and intergenerational conflict, Baek-On’s back story would be a stand-out in any ghost-of-the-week drama; here, however, it provides a fitting capstone to an ambitious, if sometimes uneven, collection of stories about a young man struggling to carve out his own path, even though his divination skills all but ensured that he would assume his father’s profession. Kim’s artwork is elegant yet restrained, striking the right balance between sumptuous period detail and spare staging of events. N.B. Die-hard fans of Time and Again will enjoy the afterword to volume six, in which Kim cheerfully discusses the historical and continuity errors she made in the course of writing the series. – Katherine Dacey

Veronica Presents: Kevin Keller #1 |By Dan Parent, Rich Koslowski and Jack Morelli |Archie Comics – It’s awfully cool of Archie Comics to introduce a gay character and commit to him as an ongoing citizen of fictional Riverdale. Even nicer is the fact that, aside from a few troll-ish comments from people who’ve probably never read an Archie comic in the first place, response to the addition has been overwhelmingly positive. The net result, at least based on the evidence of this particular comic, is that Riverdale has another uncomplicated, good-natured teen resident, sort of a gay male Betty. Kevin is out to his family and friends, and readers get to see flashbacks to that process. The underlying plot is more about Kevin’s hopes to serve in the military someday, following in his supportive father’s footsteps. Basically, though, it’s an Archie comic about nice kids being nice. Seriously, did anyone honestly think there’d be any other outcome? That the White Party would swing through Riverdale? – David Welsh

Pick of the Week: Diversity

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Another week, another batch of new (and not so new) releases at Midtown Comics. Check out our picks below!

KATE: This week’s new arrival list looks a little wonky. It includes a large batch of Vertical titles that have already been released (e.g. both volumes of Apollo’s Song) as well as a smattering of Tokyopop manga that most of us never expected to see the light of day (e.g. the final volume of Hanako and the Terror of Allegory). Buried among the reprints and orphans, I spotted the third volume of Afterschool Charisma, one of my new guilty pleasure titles. The story focuses on an academy for gifted teens. But the students at St. Kleio’s are no ordinary high schoolers; each has been cloned from a famous historical figure (e.g. Marie Curie, Joan of Arc, Napoleon) and is being groomed for a life of public service. Though the first two volumes were a bit of a mess, see-sawing between suspense and wacky hijinks, the story finds its legs in volume three, offering a nifty, third-act plot twist that casts the entire cloning project in a new and sinister light. And really, what’s not to like about a manga that depicts Sigmund Freud as a petulant bishonen who likes to tease his classmates about their daddy issues?

MICHELLE: I’ve already spoken of my love for the seventh volume of 13th Boy in a recent Off the Shelf column, so while I definitely still recommend checking out that series, the item that most intrigues me this week is the first volume of another Yen Press series, The Betrayal Knows My Name. I don’t know much about it, other than it ran in Asuka and seems to be a supernatural story with BL flavor. Although this is the first shoujo release for Hotaru Odagiri in English, she has had some BL titles released here, like Time Lag and Invisible Boy. As an added bonus, Yen is releasing the series in 2-in-1 omnibus editions!

MJ: I too must praise 13th Boy, but of the items on this week’s list that are actually new, my attention is most drawn by the second volume of Jason Thompson and Victor Hao’s King of RPGs. It’s been a year and a half since Del Rey released the first volume of this OEL series and I’d actually begun to fear that it was all we’d ever see, so I was pretty thrilled to spot it on the list. I reviewed the first volume as a guest at About.com, and while I have to acknowledge its nerd-specific appeal, as the spouse of a serious gamer, it could not have delighted me more. To quote my bottom line, “With its endless stream of geeky jokes and wildly exaggerated gaming scenes that easily rival the most outrageous shounen sports manga, King of RPGs barely comes up for air as it races to the end of its intense first volume. Crafted with deep and obvious affection, this comic is a love letter to gamers and manga fans everywhere.” Volume two, bring it on!

DAVID: I feel ambivalent about my pick, but I feel ambivalent about all things Tokyopop. It’s wistful and strange to see their last few new arrivals. And it’s downright unnerving to realize I didn’t dodge the bullet fired by readers of my blog in a previous dubious manga poll. So my pick is Nanki Satou’s Maid Shokun which is about maids and is not Emma,, so I think my anxiety can be forgiven. On the other hand, Lillian Diaz-Przybyl did compare it favorably to Honey and Clover, so maybe I’ll be pleasantly surprised. By the one volume of the series that may ever be published in English. Ambivalence! Like, cubed!

So, readers, what looks good to you this week?

Bookshelf Briefs 6/20/11

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

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

Bookshelf Briefs, 6/13/11

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

Border, Vol. 1 | By Kazuma Kodaka | Digital Manga Publishing – If you’re still mourning the cancellation of Crown, you could do a lot worse than Border, a globe-trotting adventure about an ex-commando who runs a detective agency. The story focuses on a quartet of handsome men: Yamato, a former Special Forces officer; Sogo, the team’s go-to guy for explosives and gizmos; Tamaki, a hairdresser who moonlights as a detective; and Kippei, their plucky Guy Friday. Volume one begins with two stories showing the team solving cases, then jumps back in time to explore Yamato’s military past. Aside from a few unfortunate “I’m not gay, you’re special!” conversations between Yamato and his lover, the flashback works surprisingly well, explaining both Yamato’s skills (he can repel down skyscraper walls and overpower men twice his size) and his conflicted attitudes about sex. Sexy character designs, decent action sequences, and an engaging plot complete the attractive package. -Katherine Dacey

Claymore, Vol. 18 | By Norihiro Yagi | Viz Media – I’m a big fan of Claymore, there’s no doubt, but I’ll admit the last two volumes have wearied me some. Aside from a few fascinating revelations at the beginning of volume 16, it’s been all battles, all the time in the Claymore universe lately. But though volume 18 deviates very little from that trend, it also offers at long last the confrontation we’ve been moving toward for nearly the entire series as Clare meets Priscilla on the battlefield once more. While it’s true that battles are hardly my favorite thing, even in battle manga, this kind of emotionally fraught skirmish shows off mangaka Norihiro Yagi at his best. It’s nice to finally find myself at the edge of my seat again. Bring it on, Yagi, bring it on. -MJ

The Desert Prince | By Shushushu Sakurai | Digital Manga Publishing – Superficially, the five stories that comprise The Desert Prince are very different: one focuses on the relationship between a handsome sheik and a Japanese tourist, for example, while another explores the attraction between a yakuza enforcer and his protege. Plot-wise, however, all five stories follow the same trajectory, with characters fussin’ and fightin’ until one breaks down and confesses his true feelings for the other, leading to a brief but steamy sex scene. Shushushu Sakurai’s character designs are generally appealing, though she struggles a bit to make her older men look their age; the hero of the final story, “Mister Y’s Love,” looks more like a shar-pei puppy than a retiree. What prevents The Desert Prince from being a guilty pleasure is the thinness of the writing; there are simply too many plot holes, coincidences, and abrupt reversals for any of the stories to make much of an impression, in or out of the bedroom. -Katherine Dacey

Fullmetal Alchemist, Vol. 25 | By Hiromu Arakawa | Viz Media – Oh, Fullmetal Alchemist, you never cease to thrill me. Just two volumes away from the conclusion to Arakawa’s epic fantasy-adventure, what strikes me most is just how tightly plotted this series has been since the beginning. With everything coming together as the story approaches climax, it’s clear now that there has been nothing in this entire series—not a single side character, perhaps not even a single joke—that wasn’t carefully crafted to serve that climax in one way or another. Also, between volumes 24 and 25, it’s been made clear to me that a feature on “The Women of Fullmetal Alchemist” is not only imminent, but essential. Arakawa’s women simply kick ass. Highly recommended. -MJ

Ouran High School Host Club, Vol. 16 | By Bisco Hatori | Viz Media – The perpetual brakes on the passage of time in Ouran have finally been released and Haruhi becomes a second-year student at long last. Other changes are afoot, too, as Tamaki’s domineering grandmother finally allows him to live in the main house, though this means adhering to her strict rules. Tamaki commits to the challenge admirably—even though it means giving up the host club and possibly Haruhi as well—while everyone else worries about him. Even though this storyline shows most of the characters to their advantage, I would so much rather see Tamaki and Haruhi make real romantic progress that the bulk of this volume is downright dull. I hope we can put Tamaki’s family issues behind us soon and get to the good stuff! -Michelle Smith

Grand Guignol Orchestra, Vol. 3

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In his review of TRON: Legacy, critic Andrew O’Hehir made a distinction between movies that are boring because they make the viewer keenly aware of time’s passage — what he calls “intentional and challenging boredom” — and movies that are boring because they overstimulate the viewer — what he calls the boredom of “endless distraction and wall-to-wall entertainment.” Kaori Yuki’s latest effort, Grand Guignol Orchestra, is a prime example of the latter, a relentlessly melodramatic horror story that never pauses to catch its breath. And while that kind of manga can be engrossing, Yuki’s unwillingness to vary the tone or pace robs Grand Guignol Orchestra of its power to shock, amuse, or arouse anything resembling a real human emotion.

In other words, it’s boring.

The third volume isn’t boring for lack of effort. There’s a lengthy set-piece in which Eles, Gwindel, and Lucille engage in hand-to-hand combat with an evil, cross-dressing nun who is, in fact, a castrato; there are several flashbacks to Lucille and Gwindel’s tortured pasts; and there’s a third-act auction in which noblemen bid for the privilege of watching a young woman be transformed into a zombie. And if those plot twists weren’t enough to hold the reader’s attention, Yuki throws in a few more for good measure: characters double- and triple-cross each other, former enemies unite against a common foe, and zombies swarm a castle, chomping on everyone in sight.

For all the sound and fury, volume three is dramatically inert. Every conversation is overwrought to the point of cartoonishness, draining the truly horrific and sad moments of their visceral power. Worse still, Yuki feels the need to include closed captions for the emotionally impaired, a function she’s assigned to the hapless Eles; when Eles isn’t playing the piano or being held hostage by one of Lucille’s enemies, her primary job is to think about the other characters: “Oh, so that’s why so-and-so has been depressed!” or “They don’t hate each other; they just can’t be together!” And so on.

The artwork, like the script, seems calculated to overwhelm rather than seduce. Yuki is a big proponent of the costume-as-character school of manga writing, substituting epaulets, eye patches, and lace for actual personality traits. As a result, every character, no matter how inconsequential to the story, wears a wackadoo outfit of one sort or another: a habit with a plunging neckline, a clown mask and a cock-eyed top hat. Yuki’s artwork is certainly arresting; her linework is very sensual, and her flair for drawing costumes undeniable, but her desire to populate every scene with elaborately dressed nuns, zombies, and masqueraders comes across as numbing excess in a story that lacks any form of narrative restraint.

I realize that many people will read this review and think I’m a killjoy, that I’ve lost my ability to enjoy a manga for what it is and not what I want it to be. And, to some extent, those readers are right; after five years of grinding out manga reviews, I’m no longer enthusiastic about stories that rely on spectacle to command my attention. But what I find more frustrating about Grand Guignol Orchestra is that there’s nothing real or interesting lurking beneath its busy surface; it’s hysteria masquerading as drama, and the constant stimulation of all-caps dialogue, sudden plot reversals, and Baroque murders becomes its own form of tedium to be endured, rather than something to be savored and enjoyed.

Review copy provided by VIZ Media, LLC.

GRAND GUIGNOL ORCHESTRA, VOL. 3 • BY KAORI YUKI • VIZ MEDIA • 196 pp. • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+)