Michelle Smith

MICHELLE: So, I have these two boy kitties who have had a personality/territory conflict for going on two years now. And now, suddenly, they are sleeping peacefully next to each other on an ottoman. I can only conclude that this is a Christmas miracle.

MJ: Hallelujah!

MICHELLE: Maybe it’s a body-heat issue, but I would be so happy if they actually became friends.

Anyway, what better way to celebrate surviving the longest night of the year (not to mention the Mayan apocalypse) than devoting our final column of the year to two recently released short-story collections? I’m speaking of The Devil Is So Cute by Takako Shimura (JManga) and Kaoru Mori: Anything and Something (Yen Press). It just seemed natural to me to pair these together, since Shimura and Mori are women artists writing primarily for the seinen demographic.

MJ: What better way indeed? Now, I’ll admit that the collection of short manga tends to be one of my least favorite formats (it beats out 4-koma, but only by a hair), so I went into this with a sort of grudging sense of duty, but both collections offered up some interesting insight into their creators, so it was definitely worthwhile.

MICHELLE: Yeah, I don’t have a lot of enthusiasm for the medium itself, but it was at least neat to see how these different artists approached short stories. (With varying results, I suspect, due to the nature of the magazines in which the stories ran.)

Would you care to introduce one of the collections?

MJ: Sure! I’ll start with Shimura’s, which, of the two, is the most typical of the format. Pulling from one-shots originally published in magazines like Comic High! and Jump SQ between 2004 and 2009 (along with one extra chapter added specifically for the collection), The Devil Is So Cute covers a range of subjects from the existence of witches to childhood crushes, though when you get right down to it, they’re really all about relationships—particularly those between family members and close friends.

The book’s title story, for instance, about a young boy, Megumu, who meets a woman claiming to be a witch, is really telling the story of the boy’s strained relationship with his very strict father. The witch, Nozomi, who has the ability to be accepted as anyone she wants, in any role she wants—she appears as Megumu’s sister, teacher, pediatrician, you name it—is there to bring them closer together, but she could easily be read as a figment of Megumu’s imagination, as it’s Megumu and his father, ultimately who do all the work. It’s a whimsical story with a serious purpose, which makes it a pretty terrific read.

One theme that comes up more than once in the collection is that of first love—not the sweet, mushy, teen romance kind that tends to be the stuff of shoujo manga, but the unrequited childhood crushes that I think are pretty relatable for most of us—viewed both during and after the fact. “My Summer Vacation,” for instance, tells the story of a young girl whose crush on the man who works at her local public bath leads her to pretend she’s doing a research report on bathing so that she can justify talking to him, over and over. It’s a pretty adorable, light-hearted story, unlike the somewhat darker “Unworthy Son,” which chronicles one young man’s horror as his father remarries to a teacher whom he had crushed on so heavily as a student that she’d inspired him to draw a manga about her.

Some of the stories are more whimsical than others, and some are definitely stronger than others, but there’s a lot of range in this collection, which helps to keep it interesting.

MICHELLE: Y’know, it hadn’t actually occurred to me that Nozomi might be imaginary! That’s an interesting spin on things. But yes, I really appreciated that the story is actually about the father-son relationship—with their inability to communicate depicted with distressing accuracy—instead of witches and magic.

Another theme of the collection, sometimes operating hand-in-hand with “first love,” is that of the struggling manga artist so busy working as an assistant for others that he/she has no time to devote to their own work. But is that truly the case, or are they just using that as an excuse for not pursuing their own dreams? In “One Day,” a would-be mangaka runs into her former crush when she goes out drinking after meeting a deadline. In the past, she had declared her intentions to create manga on a whim, but has failed to find the dedication necessary to make that happen. Similarly on a whim, she confesses her feelings to him in the present and now suddenly wants to resume drawing. In “Unworthy Son,” the protagonist is in a similar situation, never having success with any of the portfolios he submits. He’s on the verge of calling it quits when he too is compelled to carry on by the weight of others’ expectations.

This ties in with yet another theme, which is jealousy of a friend’s talent. This idea is present in “Unworthy Son” but also in “Transformation,” in which a woman dreams that her successful novelist friend has died in an accident and comes out of the experience not exactly transformed, but at least a little more willing to be honest about her feelings, if not completely at peace with them.

MJ: Yes, I thought all the stories about mangaka—and particularly about mangaka who weren’t making a living drawing their own stories—were really interesting and insightful. And while I don’t want to presume that Shimura is writing from her own experience (certainly she is a successful mangaka), I think it would be fair to say that she’s writing something she knows, either from observing others, or from her own, hidden insecurities which of course we all have. In any case, it reads as thoughtful and authentic. It’s one of the strengths of the collection.

So, on to Kaoru Mori, then? Would you care to do the introductory honors?

MICHELLE: Sure!

So, as opposed to Shimura, who is writing about things she knows, Kaoru Mori seems to be writing about things she likes (or that her audience likes). And since she is known for liking maids a lot, it’s no surprise that there are a few of them here, though there are also some teens and some alluring older ladies as well.

So, you’ve got your kooky maids/servants—the staff in “Welcome to the Mansion, Master!” wants a new master so they can continue to enjoy the creature comforts of their swanky surroundings while the titular maid in “Miss Claire’s Ordinary Daily Life” is the only one to stand by her witless master, going so far as to beat up a robber whilst clad in her nightgown—as well as your fussily affectionate ones (“Maudlin Baker”). The alluring older ladies are found in a pair of stories—”The Swimsuit Bought Long Ago” and “Burrow Gentlemen’s Club”—that share the same storytelling trick, where the main character replies (in square boxes instead of dialogue bubbles) to a man speaking off-panel. I actually thought “Burrow” was the most intriguing story of the whole collection, but because it’s so short, it’s more of a tease than an actual mystery.

Speaking of teases and alluring ladies, it must be said that while there are maids, ladies in swimsuits, and ladies in Playboy-esque bunny attire in this volume, somehow it doesn’t feel super fanservicey to me. I think it’s because Mori keeps the proportions of these characters (even “Cover Story,” which is essentially the four-page sequence of a girl with a bedonkadonk straddling a tree branch to look at a bird) realistic, so it’s more like a celebration of their overall sexiness than an exaggeration of certain anatomical attributes.

MJ: I agree completely! Obviously many of these were drawn as alluring shorts and single-page illustrations for men to enjoy, but her style when she’s drawing women in bunny outfits or swimsuits reminds me of nothing more than old-fashioned bathing beauties from the first half of the 20th century, back when realistic bodies were still considered beautiful. While it’s possible I’d find them scandalous if I lived back in that time, as a woman in 2012, I actually just find it… refreshing.

Anything and Something strikes me as much less a standard collection of shorts than is The Devil Is So Cute, though this isn’t necessarily a good or bad thing. On one hand, it’s a much less polished collection. Not all of the shorts are completed stories—and even a few of those that are feel a little half-baked. “Sumire’s Flowers,” for instance (for which Mori only provided the illustrations), begins as an intriguing look at rival student artists, but then devolves into a weird morality tale about adultery. On the other hand, many of Mori’s little scraps of ideas are more inspired than entire volumes of some long-running manga. “Burrow Gentleman’s Club” is a great example of that. I’d love to read a more complete version of that story, but even the snippet we’re given here is well worth the page space! The book’s overall tone is casual enough to encompass a lot of tiny experiments and bursts of whimsy without the slightest strain, so these bits and pieces fit together nicely.

Is it wrong that my favorite bits in this book are Mori’s little autobiographical strips, afterwards, and thank-yous, tacked on between chapters? Honestly, I’d have picked up the book for those alone.

MICHELLE: Those are lots of fun, and the extensive illustration gallery (with notes) in the back is simply gorgeous. So yes, even if this is less polished (I was baffled by bits of “Sumire’s Flowers,” too) or complete (I want more “Burrow”!) than Shimura’s collection, it’s still definitely worth checking out!

MICHELLE: Hey, MJ! What game would you play with a wombat?

MJ: Well, wow, I don’t know! What game would you play with a wombat?

MICHELLE: Wom!

MJ: Heh. Okay, it actually took a moment for me to get that. I must need more coffee!

MICHELLE: Maybe so! While you’re getting caffeinated, wanna tell us about some manga you read this week?

MJ: Sure! Those who took in my new video feature this week, My Week in Manga, may be anticipating this as my first topic for today—I’m talking about Sweet Blue Flowers (Aoi Hana) by Takako Shimura. The first volume is now available at JManga, and I could not be more thrilled. I’ve been waiting to read this series for a long time, and I’m so happy that it’s finally available in English.

Sweet Blue Flowers has two protagonists—Akira Okudaira, a young woman just beginning her first year at an elite all-girls high school, and Fumi Manjoume, Akira’s childhood friend who has just moved back into the area after ten years (though she’s attending a different all-girls school). Fumi is a lesbian, and shortly after we meet her, she discovers that her older cousin, Chizu, with whom she’s been having a sexual relationship for some time, has become engaged to be married. Heartbroken, Fumi turns to Akira for comfort, cementing their renewed friendship. Akira is relatively innocent about matters of the heart, but when Fumi begins dating an upperclassman, Yasuko, she finds Akira to be a supportive confidante—the first she’s ever really had. Meanwhile, Akira’s classmate, Kyouko, who has a long-time crush on Yasuko, tries to pawn off her arranged fiance on Akira.

Like Shimura’s earlier series, Wandering Son, Sweet Blue Flowers is a quiet, emotionally complex story that addresses its characters’ sexuality, burgeoning sense of self, and considerable teen angst with thoughtfulness and real gravity, while also carefully providing them with a support system that keeps their sense of fear and isolation from overtaking the narrative. Manga fans who long for teen-oriented series’ depicting fantastic female friendships will find everything they’re looking for in this series, along with so much more.

Though the initial onslaught of new characters inhabiting two different girls’ schools can be a bit overwhelming, the story soon settles in on its primary relationships and how these schools’ social circles intertwine. This aspect of the story mainly revolves around Yasuko, who transferred from Akira’s school to Fumi’s, and whose romantic history looks to be far more complicated than she lets on. The series’ exploration of these girls’ romantic fantasies and inner lives should ring true to any adult woman still in touch with her teenaged self, and this is really its greatest strength. Sweet Blue Flowers doesn’t romanticize first love, but it does let us in to its characters‘ romantic hearts, with a level of authenticity that’s less common than one might expect, especially in stories about young girls.

I admit, I’d love to see a high-end print version of this series similar to Wandering Son‘s, especially as the visual quality of JManga’s edition makes text sometimes difficult to read, but overall I’m just grateful to be able to read it at all. This is really a treasure.

MICHELLE: I’ve really wanted to read this series for a long time, so I too am really grateful that it’s available in English at last! JManga has released a fair amount of yuri in the past year, but this does seem to be the most “emotionally complex” one yet. And probably utterly devoid of fanservice.

MJ: Yes, it’s completely fanservice-free, which is a bigger relief than I even expected it to be. I’m so accustomed to just wading through fanservice, I sometimes forget how relaxing it is to read without it.

So what have you been reading this week?

MICHELLE: I’ve spent the interval since our last column getting caught up on Yumi Unita’s josei series Bunny Drop.

Let me state right up front that I was spoiled on the ending of this series before I even began reading it, and have found that this advanced knowledge has colored my reading to the extent that I really can’t avoid talking about it. So, if you don’t want to be spoiled on the ending of Bunny Drop, you should probably skip down to where we start talking about Thermae Romae.

After four volumes depicting single guy Daikichi Kawachi’s experience raising his six-year-old aunt, Rin, Bunny Drop skipped ahead ten years for its fifth volume. Since then, it’s focused more on Rin as a teenager, her disappointment with childhood friend/love interest Kouki, and her uncertainty over her future. Before I get into my complaints, I want to note that Rin’s truly an interesting character. Serious, studious, responsible, domestic, and reserved, it’s refreshing to read about someone who’s simultaneously classy and occasionally prickly. In this volume, her observations of the bonds shared by friends and their mothers causes her to contemplate the nature of motherhood and to ultimately seek out her own. She does eventually meet Masako—another unique character who’s prickly, defensive, and yet somehow sympathetic—but the volume ends with her concluding that living with Daikichi is best.

All of this sounds perfectly innocent without the foreknowledge that Rin and Daikichi are going to end up as a couple. But because I know that, I have seen Unita urging the story in that direction ever since the fifth volume. I might’ve found Rin’s reaction to Kouki’s astoundingly poor decision-making more poignant, had I not been cynically observing, “Had to cross him off the list.” I had the same reaction when Daikichi and Kouki’s mother eventually decide not to get together. Because this seventh volume is mostly concerned with Rin and Masako meeting, there’s less of that, but it’s still present in the form of an awkward sniff-test that I guess is supposed to confirm that Daikichi is not too close a relation to be genetically viable and Rin’s realization that she doesn’t want anyone else to take care of Daikichi in his old age. This, coupled with scenes in which Daikichi confirms that she’ll always be his kid, just makes everything kind of… confusing and icky.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Bunny Drop is still a good read, and I am trying to keep an open mind that Unita will somehow manage to bring these two together romantically in a way that won’t make my skin crawl. (I pray that we get another ten-year time jump first!) But I can’t deny that I wish it had remained in its quasi-Yotsuba?! state indefinitely.

MJ: I admit I’m not feeling the “icky” as much as you are, and perhaps that’s because I was spoiled much later, after I already had the chance to fall in love with the characters and the story in general. Also, I just may not be as squicked by the concept in general. But I agree that the story has been nudging Rin in this direction since the time-jump, and knowing the ending in advance has certainly affected the way I view both Rin and Daikichi’s romantic lives. More and more, though, I’m feeling confident that Unita will be able to pull this off in a way that’s moving and sweet instead of gross. I hope I’m right?

MICHELLE: I really hope so, too.

Anyway, you want to do the honors and introduce Thermae Romae?

MJ: Sure! So, as we’ve mentioned, our mutual read this week is the first volume of Mari Yamazaki’s Thermae Romae, published in true hardcover glory by Yen Press. It’s an award-winning manga in Japan that’s spawned both an anime series and a popular live-action film, and it’s been ongoing in Enterbrain’s seinen magazine Comic Beam since 2008.

Lucius Modestus is an architect in ancient Rome, whose old-style bathhouse designs are falling out of favor. A true devotee of the public bath, Lucius goes for a soak to clear his thoughts after losing an important contract. As he sinks deeper into the bath, he is suddenly sucked into a drainage pipe, only to find himself finally emerging in modern-day Japan! Thrilled by the “flat-faces”‘ (as he calls them) advances in public bathing, he returns to his own time full of new ideas, which become all the rage in Rome, establishing him as an architectural genius.

Each new chapter roughly repeats this formula (Lucius hits a snag in his own design, time-travels to Japan, and returns with the plan for Rome’s next great bath), which I admit I found a bit wearying over time, though I certainly learned a lot about baths!

MICHELLE: More than anything, Thermae Romae actually reminds me of Ekiben Hitoritabi (available from JManga), which is the likewise repetitious story of a train/bento enthusiast who travels around Japan, marveling at both trains and bento and finding nothing in his travels to dislike. Similarly, each time Lucius comes to Japan he finds it wondrous and deserving of enthusiastic mental praise. At one point, during the chapter in which he discovers onsen, the hard-boiled eggs cooked in the hot water, and the sake served along with them, he utters a line of dialogue that could’ve been completely lifted from Ekiben: “Fantastic! It goes perfectly with the egg!”

So, basically, Thermae Romae is to baths what Ekiben Hitoritabi is to trains and bento lunches. It’s a celebration of a unique aspect of Japanese culture that is a little bemusing perhaps for Westerners to read, but still entertaining.

This makes me wonder… why did Thermae Romae get a deluxe hardcover release while Ekiben is only available digitally? Certainly the time-travel aspect offers a modicum of intrigue, but I think the main difference might rest in Yamazaki’s art style. The volume’s large size and glossy pages, coupled with Yamazaki’s realistic renderings (of Lucius in particular), contribute to the impression that this is actually a Western graphic novel of distinguished literary merit! Yen must be hoping to attract a wider audience with this release than simply manga fans.

MJ: I think you may have a very good point. For what’s essentially an episodic gag manga, the artwork is really quite gorgeous, particularly in its depictions of ancient Rome. It’s a strange and awesome combination, really, when you consider that there’s an entire section regarding toilets (down to the details of Roman wiping), depicted with this really lovely, rather sensitive artwork instead of crude, gross-out drawings or clinical, non-fiction diagrams—either of which would be more likely to accompany the subject matter. Yen’s high-end treatment emphasizes the erudite nature of the series, which isn’t at all inappropriate, but I’ll be interested to see who its audience really is.

MICHELLE: Speaking of the gag aspect… until I got to the part about the toilets, I was feeling kind of dubious about the front flap’s claim that Thermae Romae is a “historical comedy.” However, Lucius accusing the bidet of being an “insolent knave!!” changed my mind.

MJ: Heh, yes, the toilet section did provide some of the best humor, I have to admit!