Manga Bookshelf

Discussion, Resources, Roundtables, & Reviews

Michelle Smith

Off the Shelf: Communicable Crankiness

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MICHELLE: Hey, MJ! What’s orange and sounds like a parrot?

MJ: Um. A carrot?

MICHELLE: Um, yeah. That’s it.

MJ. Well, huh. Uh. Read any good manga this week?

MICHELLE: I did! I spent the week conducting a massive catchup marathon of Natsume’s Book of Friends, and while I now lament that it took me so long to really immerse myself in the gentle beauty of this fantastic series, it was nonetheless a lovely experience to luxuriate in a dozen volumes!

The twelfth volume came out earlier this month and features mostly episodic stories, though not without personal consequence for Takashi Natsume, a lonely teenage boy with the ability to see yokai. First, he helps a yokai read an old, damaged letter from a human. Next, there’s a story about an old lady yokai who thought Natsume’s grandmother (who bound yokai to her by writing their names in the Book of Friends) was a yokai. And then Natsume gets captured in a jar and taken off as tribute to a newly awakened god, whereupon his friend Tanuma (possessed of a very limited supernatural sensitivity) steps up to attempt to rescue him.

I really loved getting to see Tanuma in action in this volume, and though everyone will probably roll their eyes when I say this… I could help but notice the Buffy parallels! You’ve got a teenager with a powerful supernatural ability that he’s not supposed to tell anyone about—and who is worried that knowledge of this information will put the people that he cares about in harm’s way—who has managed to make a couple of friends and struggles with how much to tell them, how much to let them be involved, and guilt when they end up getting hurt while trying to help. It’s unusual for someone with this gift/curse to maintain such friendships, but Natsume is determined to try.

And, of course, the episodic tales themselves are often quite nice—I love that Natsume is unable to ignore anyone in need of help, including yokai—and I positively adore Nyanko-sensei, the powerful yokai who acts as Natsume’s bodyguard. He took up this role because Natsume promised he could have the book if Natsume died, but it’s obvious that Nyanko really cares for him. It reminds me of Wesley and the Dread Pirate Roberts in Princess Bride, where Roberts adheres to the formula of threatening to kill Wesley, but he never really does because he’s grown fond of him. Nyanko-sensei protests too much that he’s only there to inherit the book, methinks.

To sum up, I have now been converted into a major Natsume fangirl.

MJ: Oh, I’m so glad you’ve become a fan! I’m actually several volumes behind in this series now, but it’s long been a favorite, for many of the same reasons you mention here. I’m especially anxious to read that story involving Tanuma.

Also, I too am exceedingly fond of Nyanko-sensei. It doesn’t hurt that he usually looks like a really cranky cat.

MICHELLE: I like it best when he actually acts like a cat, like getting distracted by butterflies, etc. There’s a really cute random illustration in this volume where Midorikawa-sensei has depicted him sleeping atop a wall with several other feline companions. It’s very cute.

Anyway! What’ve you been reading this week?

MJ: Well, I may not be a cat, but I’m definitely feeling cranky.

My first read this week was the penultimate volume of La Corda d’Oro, Yuki Kure’s manga adaptation of the romantic video game of the same name. I’ve generally been a fan of this sweet little reverse-harem series, even with its blatantly ridiculous ideas about classical music (particularly violin repertoire) and its thin, supernatural plot. Most of the characters are genuinely likable, and even when they fall into very standard types (which most of them do), they’re quite fun.

In volume fifteen, emotionally stiff violinist Len finally came to terms with his feelings for the series’ heroine, Kahoko—a surprise to no one, as it’s been obvious for a while which boy in this harem was likely to get the girl. In the latest volume (sixteen), Kahoko begins to finally recognize her feelings for Len, and while this is no surprise, either, its consequences managed to make me actually angry with this series for the first time ever.

Having determined not to tell Kahoko that he would be leaving the country on the very same day she is to play in an important music competition (relationship decisions have never been his strong suit), Len unfathomably blurts out the news on the evening just before Kahoko’s performance, sending her into a loop of anxiety and confusion at the moment she needs it least. What pushes me over the edge, however, is Kahoko’s near-sabotage of her own performance in favor of wallowing in emotional turmoil, which plays just about as wrong with me as it possibly could. For while I realize that the story of a teenager prioritizing her feelings for a boy over a personal dream she’s worked her ass off to achieve is probably more realistic than most of us would like to acknowledge, I think it may have finally eclipsed my tolerance for the series’ lack of devotion to its subject.

Of course, I also realize that the problem may be mine, as perhaps it’s been quite clear all along that the story’s real subject is Kahoko’s romantic dreams rather than her musical aspirations, but it still kinda pissed me off.

Scold me if you must.

MICHELLE: Oh, that would piss me off, too! I will say, though, that this series is definitely capable of provoking some strong emotions in you: here you’re angry, but I remember an earlier plot revelation that actually made you cry.

MJ: *sigh* It’s true. I’m really a sucker for this kind of series, overall. I suspect I won’t be able to resist the final volume, even after this.

So, our final selection for the week is something we both read. Would you like to introduce it?

MICHELLE: Alrighty.

From the creator of Clean Freak, Fully Equipped (long-time readers might recall I talked about this series in the past) comes Jiu Jiu, an extremely generic and unfunny tale of a misanthropic demon hunter named Takamichi who has some angst that results in her ignoring the two half-human half-demon wolfish pups that have been placed in her charge until they turn three, whereupon they proceed to enroll in her high school and sleep nude in her bed.

Over and over again, she leaves them behind for some reason, they whine, she realizes they care about her, or only want to protect her, or something like that. It’s all incredibly disjointed with disorienting shifts in time, and for the life of me, I cannot understand why a hot mess like this gets licensed but 7SEEDS does not.

Sheesh, now I’m cranky!

MJ: Wow. So succinct. And so true, sad to say.

While I’d say my reaction against Jiu Jiu wasn’t quite so violently negative, it certainly was not good. Jiu Jiu does have a few strong points—or at least potential strong points not yet fully realized. Though Takamichi is irritatingly hung up on the notion that she must protect herself by not caring for anybody (is anyone else as tired of that song as I am?), she’s potentially a kick-ass heroine with a fairly kick-ass job. And while I could go the rest of my life without reading yet another introduction of her wolfy companions, Night and Snow (this series really suffers from exposition repetition), the artist does an eerily fantastic job of drawing teenaged boys who actually look and act like dogs. Seriously, it’s kind of impressive.

Trouble is, none of the series’ potential strong points have been actualized fully enough to make up for the fact that so far the story seems to have no direction whatsoever, unless you count the rather disturbing possibility that Takamichi’s increasingly, uh… horny pups may eventually molest her in her bed.

MICHELLE: Exactly. And you’re right, their more canine moments are the best in the volume. I despair, though, that a character who has explicitly stated he passed the high school entrance exams then proceeds to mistake a bra for a pair of glasses. High-larious.

Takamichi herself is not particularly likeable, and I don’t like the art, either. In fact, one particularly ridiculous pose (page 59) made me laugh and say aloud, “Oh my God, what?!” These factors together make it extremely difficult to hope that it will improve in future volumes.

MJ: Ha! I laughed at the very same pose!

There are some (again) potentially interesting musings here and there about the nature of Takamichi’s job and her feelings about her young protectors becoming killers, but these are too brief to make an impact. Probably the one thing that got me through it all was the cuteness of puppy!Night writing in his diary. Ultimately, though? Not cute enough.

MICHELLE: I’m afraid I must conCUR. Harhar.

MJ: And on that note… better luck next time? Let’s hope so.

Pick of the Week: Summit of the Gods & more

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KATE: I only have eyes for one book this week: the long-awaited third volume of Summit of the Gods. This manliest of manga focuses on two Japanese climbers’ efforts to find out what happened to doomed explorer George Mallory, who disappeared during a 1924 attempt to reach the top of Mt. Everest. As one might expect of a series illustrated by Jiro Taniguchi, the artwork is superb; if you’ve ever wondered what it might be like to navigate a glacier or dangle from a rope above a yawning chasm, Taniguchi’s drawings will transport you to the Himalayas with the same vertigo-inducing accuracy as an IMAX film.

MICHELLE: I, too, am happy to see volume three of Summit of the Gods appear at long last, but I’ll throw a bit of love toward Alice in the Country of Clover: Chehsire Cat Waltz. Okay, true, the Bloody Twins Clover installment was nowhere near as good as the original Country of Hearts series, including as it did a variety of “what-if” scenarios pairing Alice up with various guys from the video game, but it seems as if Cheshire Cat focuses on her relationship with one guy. Maybe I’m wrong and it’ll disappoint again, but you can be sure I’ll be checking it out.

SEAN: Yeah, I’ll go with Cheshire Cat Waltz as well. It’s still more ‘romance’ oriented than the first series, but does at least make the effort to show that Alice is in a strange land filled with dangerous psychopaths who change moods at the drop of a hat. I hope they go a bit further into her reasons for being there – briefly hinted in the first manga’s ending – but in the meantime, I am content to see her wandering around with the hot guys as long as it keeps up the frisson of discomfort that makes it intriguing.

BRIGID: Summit of the Gods sounds pretty tasty, but it’s 95 degrees and I’m in the last stages of San Diego prep frenzy, so I need something light and amusing. I thought the first volume of Animal Land was kind of strange but interesting in an oh-Japan kind of a way, so I’ll swing for volume 5 this week. Since it springs from the fevered brain of the creator of Zatch Bell, I know I won’t have to take it too seriously, and that’s good enough for me.

MJ: Aside from Summit of the Gods, this week is pretty light for me, so as I’m weighing in last, I’ll to head over to NETCOMICS and recommend their Totally BL bundle, available through the end of the month. While NETCOMICS’ limited-time rental model is looking less and less attractive these days, next to other publishers’ iPad apps and other ownership-based digital venues like JManga (even eManga offers a “Keep” option for their titles), there are a number of Korean titles from NETCOMICS that I must continue to recommend, especially for BL fans. One of these is Hajin Yoo’s Totally Captivated, included in the NETCOMICS bundle along with the super-addictive Let Dai. If you’ve never given Korean BL a chance, this is the time to do so.

Readers, what looks good to you this week?

Bookshelf Briefs 7/9/12

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

Case Closed, Vol. 43 | By Gosho Aoyama | VIZ Media – In the latest volume of Case Closed, Conan and the gang solve three mysteries: one involving a lost cell phone, another involving a toy company president, and yet another featuring a bomb-wielding maniac. The stories are a little hit-or-miss, relying heavily on surprise twists that few readers will be able to anticipate from the available clues. Of the three, “One Demon Among 53,000” is the best, a crisply executed beat-the-clock thriller in which Conan must find a terrorist who’s threatening to blow up Koshien Stadium during the national baseball championships. Smart pacing and effective jump cuts convey the urgency of the situation, making it all the more frustrating that volume 43 ends without resolving this promising storyline. Guess I’m on the hook for 44! – Katherine Dacey

Dawn of the Arcana, Vol. 4 | By Rei Toma | Published by VIZ Media – While this volume doesn’t play up my favorite aspect of Dawn of the Arcana—Nakaba’s inner struggle between her loyalty to her protector, Loki, and her burgeoning feelings for her new husband, Caesar—as much as I would like, it’s still quite an important volume. Nakaba’s influence on Caesar continues to be profound, and when he learns that his father is planning an attack on a village of Loki’s people, he sets out to foil the plan. Meanwhile, Nakaba begins to explore her powers of foresight and starts to think she may be able to use it to help people, only she can’t tell Caesar because the king would execute her if he were to catch wind of her ability. She’s shaping up to be a strong and capable heroine, and I look forward to seeing where the story goes from here! – Michelle Smith

The Drops of God, Vol. 4 | By Tadashi Agi and Shu Okimoto | Vertical, Inc. – The moment that Shizuku won the battle for the first Apostle, I was ready for the second battle to be Issei’s. He has to be a formidable foe, after all. To that end, he gets the bulk of the character development here, going to the Tibetan desert in order to find the perfect inspiration and also to acquire another love interest (in a sequence which is both heartwarming and laughable in its cliche). Shizuku, meanwhile, seems the odd one out this time – in a volume that is filled with lovers reconnecting and familial bonds, he can’t even understand why Miyabi seems so grumpy when he notes they’re just colleagues. No surprise, then, that he ends the volume with need of some serious soul-searching. Hopefully he’s found it by the next omnibus, which jumps ahead about a dozen or so volumes. –Sean Gaffney

Kamisama Kiss, Vol. 8 | By Julietta Suzuki | VIZ Media – The kami conference wraps up quickly here, and I liked that they did show Kayako again just to have a bit of closure. The bulk of the volume, however, deals with Kurama and his tengu family, as Nanami and Tomoe get involved in a tortuous succession battle. There are sprinklings of the main romance here and there, but for the most part this volume works like many of the previous ones – a new character meets Nanami and takes an instant dislike to her, only to eventually fall for her on account of her gumption, stick-to-it-ive-ness, and general main character syndrome. I don’t expect Jiro to be any different, especially as he’s already noting the differences between men and women. Provided you haven’t grown weary of everything revolving around how swell Nanami is (she needs more obvious flaws), this series still entertains. –Sean Gaffney

La Corda D’Oro, Vol. 16 | By Yuki Kure | VIZ Media – This dating-sim-cum-manga would be a true guilty pleasure if Kahoko, the heroine, wasn’t such a dithering idiot. Alas, her doormat behavior and lack of focus make her an unlikely candidate for classical music greatness, as she spends more time mooning over cute guys than she does practicing her etudes. In volume sixteen, for example, she nearly flops in competition because she’s become utterly preoccupied with aloof but handsome violinist Len. Len’s big revelation — and the fallout from it — could have been handled in five or ten pages, but Yuki Kure milks it for nearly three chapters, treating us to repeated scenes of Kahoko blushing, stammering, and playing sour notes as she frets about Len. Worse still, these scenes feel like they’ve been pilfered from earlier chapters; even the characters seem bored with their lines, sleep-walking through an all-too-familiar tournament scenario. Wake me up when the backstage backstabbing resumes! – Katherine Dacey

Natsume’s Book of Friends, Vol. 12 | By Yuki Midorikawa | VIZ Media – For the most part, this manga is content to be a series of short one-shots and two-parters dealing with the yokai world, and the new yokai Natsume has to deal with. We have seen him slowly starting to open up, however, and the three-parter here shows how it’s affecting both him and Tanuma. This is the classic ‘if I’m not close to them, they won’t be in danger’ hero dilemma for Natsume, but we not only see Tanuma’s side – wanting to help but feeling completely inadequate about it – but also Nitori’s, who it is implied made his choice earlier in life and is trying to ensure Natsume does not duplicate it. There’s a lot more action here as well, as if the increase in emotions lends itself to a faster, more frantic pace. Loneliness has plagued Natsume’s life as it did his grandmothers. Can he stop the cycle? Addicting. –Sean Gaffney

Oresama Teacher, Vol. 9 | By Izumi Tsubaki | VIZ Media – It’s great to see Tsubaki’s abilities improve with each volume. In particular, the focus issue she’s always had is almost entirely absent here, mostly due to the fact that there’s only one real plot here – the attempt to crush Okegawa. It’s his story more than Mafuyu’s here, which is why he takes her out right before the final battle – and also why he is seemingly finally allowed to see through her disguise. Okegawa is fantastic here, as we see that being a bancho is not just about thugging it up, but almost a military calling – planning the battle, caring for your subordinates. And loving a good fight as well, of course. Lest you think that this is a serious volume, however, fear not – the author can’t go three pages without sticking in something hilarious, with this particular volume ending in what amounts to a giant pie fight. I still like this series better than most. Listen to me, though, as I’m the correct one. –Sean Gaffney

Ouran High School Host Club, Vol. 18 | By Bisco Hatori | Published by VIZ Media – I read the first volume of Ouran back in June 2006, so getting to this final volume has been a six-year journey. Staying true to itself to the end, the conclusion is simultaneously so silly it’s positively ridiculous and so sunny that it’s pretty endearing. I’d say this is a satisfying ending for the most part, though the special side story, about Kyoya’s ambition and his thoroughly Slytherin family, was really kind of dull. I wanted more Tamaki and Haruhi cuteness! Throughout the volume, Hatori includes illustrations and sidebars about the futures of various characters, and some of those are adorable, and we also get one final cameo by Mori’s chicken! I can’t adequately express how much I love that durn chicken. Not without flaws, but still recommended. – Michelle Smith

Toriko, Vols. 10-11 | By Mitsutoshi Shimabukuro | VIZ Media – The latest installments of Toriko illustrate what’s bad — and good — about this goofy series. Whenever the story’s focus shifts from food to fighting — as it does in volume ten — Toriko becomes a dreary slog, filled with ugly characters engaged in sadistically violent combat. Making these battle scenes even more tedious is the dialogue, as bad guys pause to outline their plans, or explain the source of their power, thus providing Toriko an opportunity to gain the upper hand. When the story focuses on food and friendship, however, it’s a cheerful, if occasionally stomach-churning, parody of Iron Chef, as Toriko and his sidekick Komatsu scour the globe in search of rare ingredients. For my taste, there’s too much combat and not enough cuisine in Toriko; even the reappearance of master chef Setsuno, one of the series’ most memorable characters, wasn’t enough to erase the memory of volume ten’s endless wrangling. – Katherine Dacey

Off the Shelf: Gods, Wine, & Time

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MJ: I’m late. I’m late. For a very important date.

MICHELLE: I wonder if I could take this as a hint that you’ve finally read something I’ve been wanting you to read?

MJ: Hmmmm, I suspect the answer to that is “no.” I’m pretty sure I first encountered this as a small child, in Alice in Wonderland. And then a little later on a Barbra Streisand album.

MICHELLE: Oh, darn. I was hoping you’d read some of Alice in the Country of Hearts! Oh well. What did you read?

MJ: Well, my first read this week was Aki’s Olympos, a new josei single-volume omnibus release from Yen Press.

Olympos tells the story of Ganymede of Troy, said to have been abducted by Zeus and brought to serve him at Mount Olympus. In Aki’s adaptation, it is actually Zeus’s son Apollo who abducts Ganymede and holds him in the “miniature garden,” a prison filled with white flower petals as immortal as the gods themselves. Rather than occupying a position of honor as cupbearer to the gods as in the original myths, Aki’s Ganymede is relentlessly tortured by Apollo, who presses upon him the bleakness of his new immortality and takes pleasure in his futile attempts to escape. This torture is later escalated by Hades, who informs Ganymede that his only chance for relief would be for him to go mad, which would release him from Zeus’ celestial realm and into the dark of the underworld. Meanwhile, an eerily monstrous specter of Zeus hovers menacingly around the garden, infatuated with its human prisoner.

I’ve painted a pretty grim picture, I know, so you may be surprised to hear that Olympos is actually a fairly quiet, philosophical manga, meandering through its 300+ pages with musings on the nature of truth and immortality, and the impossibility of understanding between humans and gods. Unfortunately, “meandering” is a key word here. Despite a strong beginning, featuring a newly captured human (Heinz), charged by Apollo with the daunting task of convincing Ganymede—after years of Apollo’s goading—that escape from the garden is possible after all, the series soon loses focus, devolving into a kind of distractedly philosophical pudding that never quite gels.

That said, there’s a lot worth fishing out of this mythological goo if one has the will to do so, and I admit to enjoying quite a bit of it. Apollo’s journey is interesting in particular, as he comes to the realization that speaking the truth and knowing the truth are not necessarily the same things. Ganymede’s character, too, has a lot to offer, as he slowly comes to terms with his fate. Ganymede is described by Homer as the most beautiful of mortals, and this aspect of his story is one that Aki truly takes to heart. All of the artwork in Olympos is beautiful, in fact, almost beautiful enough to make up for its structural flaws.

MICHELLE: I have to say, “distractedly philosophical pudding” is a wonderful phrase, and one that could be applied to quite a lot of storytelling, in my experience.

And yes, despite its flaws, Olympos still sounds like something I’m going to want to check out. Especially because it’s josei and we see too little of that here.

MJ: I do think you’ll want to check it out. And though I think you’re likely to become frustrated with its lack of coherency at some points, I think you’ll end up enjoying it. I certainly did.

So, what have you been reading this week?

MICHELLE: First up for me is volume four of The Drops of God, a seinen series about wine that’s published by Vertical in two-in-one omnibus editions.

This series… how to describe it. My first compulsion is to say “It’s like Oishinbo with wine.” The protagonist, Shizuku Kanzaki, was never a wine fan while his father, a famous wine critic, was alive, but after his death, Shizuku becomes obsessed with learning about the stuff, which is fortunate because the terms of his father’s will require him to compete with a prententious critic (Issei Tomine) to identify a dozen or so wines based on verbal descriptions alone. In between the match-ups with Issei (the second of which closes out this volume), Shizuku and his trusty sidekick Miyabi get up to various things, which usually involve tasting a whole bunch of wine and rhapsodizing about them, sometimes with unintentionally amusing visuals and dialogue.

For instance, in this volume, the wine division of Taiyo Beer has a new client who turns out to be Miyabi’s first love from middle school. He wants to open a grocery store that stocks only name-brand wines, and it’s up to Shizuku and Miyabi to convince him that there are many worthy wines without a prestige name, and so they must search out and find certain ones capable of besting famous wines in a testing. Of course, they succeed, culminating in an absolutely hilarious scene where the first love guy takes a sip and is suddenly riding a pegasus amongst the clouds, taking a little tour of his childhood memories. I admit I laughed out loud.

I don’t mean to suggest that I don’t like The Drops of God, because I do, but it frequently strikes me as ridiculous, even more than your average sports manga (but not more so than the latter volumes of The Prince of Tennis). Perhaps it would help if I had a genuine interest in wine.

I do want to note that this volume has a special message in the back, which I’ll quote here: “The unveiling of the Second Apostle concludes “season one” of the English release. By author request, our next installment jumps ahead in the storyline to a segment on “New World” wines including those in Napa Valley. Tell all your friends about the series so there will be second and third seasons to fill in the gap! We appreciate your support.”

So now I am doing my part by telling all the folks reading Off the Shelf!

MJ: Important news indeed, Michelle! I, too, like The Drops of God, probably more than most sports manga, though that may simply be due to the fact that I have much more interest (generally) in wine than sports. I’m behind on this series, but I’m anxious to catch up. It’s just, well, fun. Also, it makes me thirsty.

MICHELLE: Yeah, it does kind of have that effect.

So, the last book that we’re going to discuss is one that we’ve both read, but we’re coming at it from slightly different perspectives. That is, you’ve seen the movie that it’s based on and I haven’t.

MJ: Indeed! It’s one of my favorite movies, even.

MICHELLE: What we’re talking about is 5 Centimeters per Second, another two-in-one omnibus from Vertical, though this time collecting the entire series. Do you want to describe the story, or shall I?

MJ: I can at least start! Based on the animated feature from writer/director Makoto Shinkai, 5 Centimeters per Second tells the story of a young boy, Takaki Tohno, and Akari Shinohara, the first love he can’t put behind him. He first meets Akari as she transfers into his elementary school in Tokyo. The two bond quickly, partly due to their mutual experience as children whose families move a lot. Mostly, though, they just like each other, so much so that their classmates eventually tease them about being in love. With middle school quickly approaching, they work hard to get into the same junior high, but just like that, Akari’s family is moving again, to Iwafune, quite a distance away.

The two keep in touch by mail, but when Takaki finds out that his family is going to be moving even further away, he decides to visit Akari by train while he still can. Rushing from school to the train, he is delayed several hours by a snowstorm, finally arriving in Iwafune late into the night to find Akari waiting hopefully at the station. This is the last time he will ever meet with her. Time passes, and with only letters and text messages to connect them, Takaki and Akari eventually grow apart. But Takaki’s lingering attachment keeps him from really being able to connect with anyone else.

MICHELLE: (This is spoiler territory here, so be warned.)

I really love how this story plays out because, unfamiliar with the movie, I kept expecting Takaki and Akari to reunite, especially since the opening pages portray them passing each other in the street. But it’s actually much more complicated than that, as the realities of day-to-day adult life have whittled down Takaki’s idealism to the point where he feels he has lost his real self. He never really put forth the effort to contact Akari—another character, Kanae, later shows that one can find someone if one really tries—but yet to move on, to really love someone else would feel like a betrayal. And so he is stuck.

And then at the end, we revisit the moment they glimpse each other, which is portrayed fairly ambiguously from Akari’s point of view. Did she notice him? Did she recognize him? I tend to think she did not, and I love how Takaki smiles at that realization—always kind, he is relieved to see that she’s moved on (did he notice her engagement ring?) and is not encumbered by memories of him as he has been with her. It’s sad, but it’s nice, and I love that it doesn’t go for the expected happy ending.

MJ: This kind of inevitable separation—both the pain of it and the cruel ordinariness of it—is a recurring theme in Shinkai’s work (you may remember that the manga adaptation of one of his earliest films, The Voices of a Distant Star, was the first review I wrote for PopCultureShock), and though he’s always explored this theme beautifully, 5 Centimeters per Second is his most poignant attempt, I think, because the barrier between Takaki and Akari is relatively small. They aren’t separated by light years like the characters in Voices. They’re on the same planet—even in the same country. But the reality is, of course, that there is so much more to it than just the distance, and it’s this kind of simple, simple truth that makes Takaki’s plight so sad and so relatable.

MICHELLE: While the title technically refers to the speed at which a cherry blossom petal falls from a tree, it rather elegantly captures the main obstacles facing Takaki and Akari: distance and time. But it’s a fall, and a separation, that feels almost leisurely because it takes place over a long span of time.

MJ: Beautifully said, Michelle! One of the interesting things about this adaptation is just how much more leisurely the time does pass. The film is fairly neatly divided into three parts, with the first section (Takaki’s childhood with Akari, up through the point when he visits her in Iwafune) feeling the longest and the most fleshed-out. In this manga series, the second two sections are greatly expanded upon, giving us a much closer look at the stories of both Kanae and Takaki’s later girlfriend, Risa, (who is barely seen in the film), which ultimately teaches us even more about Takaki and the women he’s unintentionally hurt with his kindness over the years. While I do miss the strength of some of the film’s imagery and direction (Takaki’s lonely train ride, for instance, feels absolutely epic in the film, thanks to Shinkai’s brilliant pacing), these additional insights really do add something significant.

MICHELLE: I thought his train ride seemed pretty epic in print, too, especially given the fact that a lot of what happens prior to that is, like, two-page vignettes charting the progress of his growing closeness with Akari, but the train ride was the first time we got a long, tense, interrupted sequence of events.

I did want to ask you… was anything different in the movie? Like, the plot? I’m kind of sad to learn Kanae’s not in it much, since I liked her a great deal, and especially appreciated the little optimistic twist (but yet still ambiguous) thrown our way at the end concerning her future.

MJ: Ah, I think I perhaps wasn’t clear. Kanae is in the film quite a bit (the entire second section revolves around her). It’s Risa we barely see. But even so, there isn’t actually any difference in the plot, it’s just that we’re shown much, much more of it in the manga.

MICHELLE: Well, that makes me happy, then!

MJ: It makes me happy, too. Good adaptations can be difficult to come by, but this one is quite good indeed.

Pretty Little Secrets by Sara Shepard

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From the back cover:
Rewind to junior year in Rosewood, Pennsylvania, to a winter break no one has ever heard about.

Fat snowflakes fall onto manicured lawns, quilted stockings hang over marble fireplaces, and everyone is at peace, especially Hanna, Emily, Aria, and Spencer. Now that Alison’s murderer is in jail and A is dead, they can finally relax. Little do they know there’s a new A in town…

What happens on holiday break stays on holiday break—right? But guess what. I saw. And now I’m telling.

-A

Review:
This will probably be the last full-length review I write of a Pretty Little Liars novel. Mostly that’s because I’ve run out of ways to say “it isn’t very good, but I still enjoy it,” but also… egads, this one was pretty bad.

Although published earlier this year, Pretty Little Secrets is actually set between books four and five of the series, so I opted to go ahead and read it now. The premise is that this is the winter break between those books and the new A in town is observing the four girls before beginning to seriously harass them. It feels a lot like a media tie-in novel, to be honest, shoehorned in between more pivotal events with decidedly lame plots that are designed not to contradict anything that comes afterwards. (Although, I’ve actually heard there are some discrepancies.)

In “Hanna’s Little Secret,” Hanna is despondent when her boyfriend, Lucas, goes on vacation with a hot chick, so she binge eats a while, then joins a fitness boot camp, where she competes with another girl to win the affections of their instructor. In “Emily’s Little Secret,” Mrs. Fields is upset over the theft of her precious ceramic baby Jesus (yes, really) from a church nativity scene, and enlists Emily to infiltrate the clique of girls presumed to be responsible. In “Aria’s Little Secret,” Aria’s old Icelandic flame shows up randomly and they decide to get married (yes, really). And in “Spencer’s Little Secret,” Spencer and her sister compete for the affections of a tennis player while their parents are having some angst related to the DiLaurentis family. There are small things connecting the stories, mainly the references to a vile-tasting vitamin water called AminoSpa.

I thought the Hanna and Spencer stories were structurally pretty similar, as both involved bitchy sisters/step-sisters as well as the protagonist getting duped by another girl who was actually after the same guy who turned out to be a player who used the same lines on them both. Though it’s really just as dumb as the others, the Emily story is probably the best because it contains a few snickerworthy lines.

All in all, please feel free to skip this collection. You’re not missing much of anything.

Pick of the Week: Jiu Jiu, 5 Centimeters & more

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SEAN: Given that there’s about 40 gazillion titles coming out this Wednesday at Midtown Comics, narrowing down a pick of the week is hard. I am therefore going to do what I usually do in these cases, which is assume my colleagues will pick the more ‘upscale’ titles and go for my own personal biases. Jiu Jiu is Viz’s latest Shojo Beat series, and it’s from Hana to Yume (and its spinoff), a magazine I adore. It combines shoujo romance with fantasy, as most of the currently licensed crop do (hey, you go with what sells), and features a heroine who is cool and can kick ass when required. Who could ask for anything more?

MICHELLE: Actually, even though I know I should pick the third volume of Wandering Son because it’s bound to be awesome, my heart is drawn unerringly—over other greats like One Piece and Ooku—to the 28th volume of Skip Beat!. I think it says a lot about the series that it inspires such loyalty and genuine expectation so long into its run. Also, I have successfully gotten a coworker addicted. Muahaha!

MJ: I think we can all agree that Wandering Son is a must-buy. But since there will be much more of it to come, I’ll give my vote this week to a single volume release—the manga adaptation of Makoto Shinkai’s 5 Centimeters Per Second. I’m a fairly devoted fan of Shinkai’s work and vision, and as this adaptation is based on my very favorite of his films, it’s not a release I’m willing to miss. There are images from this melancholy film that are among my favorites in any medium—moments I carry with me day-to-day, even now. And while I expect I’ll find the manga’s strengths to be different than the film’s, it’s hard for me to imagine Vertical licensing this if it had no strengths at all. So, despite my usual skepticism over adaptations of this kind, I approach this manga optimistically.

BRIGID: Wow, so many good books to choose from! I’m loving Drops of God, so I’ll want vol. 4 of that, and I’ll be going for 5 cm too. But in the dog days of summer, I go for the simple pleasures, so my first choice this week will be vol. 1 of the Kitchen Princess omnibus. I’m ready for some sweet, sweet shoujo, and Kitchen Princess delivers, treading very familiar ground with the story of a cheerful orphan at an elite boarding school who solves everyone’s problems by cooking for them. It’s charming, funny, and broken up into short story arcs so I can pick it up and put it down whenever I like. Yeah, I’ve read it before, but summer is a good time for reruns, so bring it on!

Readers, what looks good to you this week?

Takehiko Inoue MMF Roundaup: Part Four

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It’s the fourth quarter, and your co-hosts have banded together to take you through the final stretch!

Anna joins me for a special Let’s Get Visual column dedicated to Inoue’s artwork, where we discuss pages from Real and Vagabond.

And speaking of Vagabond, we both weigh in on the series, with Anna tackling the two most recent VIZBIG editions to be released (nine and ten) and me checking out the first one. Ultimately, it looks like neither of us has found a new favorite over the course of the MMF, but we still both enjoyed branching out!

A big thank you once again to everyone who contributed and left comments. MJ of Manga Bookshelf will be hosting the next MMF, which will focus on works by CLAMP.

Vagabond, Vols. 1-3

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By Takehiko Inoue | Published by VIZ Media (first VIZBIG edition)

One of my goals for this Manga Moveable Feast was to finally read some of Vagabond. I’ve been collecting the VIZBIG editions since they started coming out, which means there were ten of these on my shelf (with their spines forming a group portrait) unread. Now that I finally have read some of Vagabond, I’ve found it so different from the Inoue I’m familiar with—and yet containing some of the same themes—that I’m rather at a loss for words.

Shinmen Takezo is the son of a legendary swordsman, though we don’t really find that out until volume three. Since the age of thirteen, when he killed a man who came to Miyamoto village looking to challenge its strongest occupant, he’s been ostracized by all save a couple of childhood friends and he’s recently been off to battle with one of them, Hon’iden Matahachi. They both survive a bloody battle, but Matahachi takes up with a thieving widow, leaving Takezo to return to Miyamoto with tidings of Matahachi’s survival.

To make a long story very short: Takezo meets with an unfriendly welcome and is manipulated by a clever monk named Takuan into reevaluating his life. Four years later, now going by the name Miyamoto Musashi, he shows up in Kyoto looking to challenge the head of the Yoshioka sword school, and though he defeats many of their members, he learns there are still those stronger than him. A drunken Matahachi accidentally sets the blaze that allows Musashi to escape, and the VIZBIG ends with him realizing that the old friend he left for dead might actually have survived.

Even though I knew this was about swordsmen, I somehow didn’t expect it to be as gory as it is. There are a lot of death blows being dealt here, as Musashi is obsessed with measuring/proving his strength against others and willing to sacrifice his life to this aim. That said, at times the art is absolutely gorgeous, and there are a few color pages that look like bona fide paintings. The scope, layout, and pacing of the story all lend it a cinematic feel that is genuinely impressive. There’s one scene early on, when Musashi turns around to face the one opponent left standing and it’s genuinely terrifying.

But yet, I mostly found it unaffecting. I expect there will be more insight into the main character as time progresses, but for now he’s so closed off, so proud of his strength and being hailed a demon that I can’t grow fond of him or endorse his goals. I have a feeling I’m not supposed to. I did identify with Matahachi a lot, though, especially his inferiority complex in regards to his friend and his inability to follow through with the heroic deeds he imagines himself performing. I like Otsu, the fiancée Matahachi left behind, and I’m intrigued by Takuan, the monk. I’ll keep reading for them, if nothing else.

One thing about Musashi reminds me a lot of Hisanobu Takahashi in Real. As a child, Hisanobu was attempting to master a particular basketball move that his father showed him. He worked very hard on it, but was never able to show his father because the latter abandoned the family. Musashi has also been abandoned by his mother and shunned by his father, and part of his drive to test himself seems due to the desire to show them his strength, show them that he doesn’t need to depend on anyone else. Musashi is a real historical figure, not a character Inoue created, but it seems like he’s drawn to these confident yet wounded types.

Ultimately, I can see why Vagabond is hailed as a masterpiece, and I will certainly keep reading it, but my heart will always belong to Inoue’s sports manga, Slam Dunk in particular. The heart wants what the heart wants!

Vagabond is published in English by VIZ Media. Single volumes up through 33 have been published, as well as ten “VIZBIG” editions comprised of three volumes each. An eleventh VIZBIG edition is scheduled to be released in December. Inoue has recently resumed the series in Japan, so the upcoming release of volume 34 (October) will be the first new Vagabond released in English in two years.

Let’s Get Visual: Takehiko Inoue

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MICHELLE: It’s been a while, but Let’s Get Visual has awoken from its hibernation in time to celebrate the Takehiko Inoue Manga Moveable Feast. Joining me for this occasion is special guest host Anna Neatrour, who is also co-hosting the MMF with me! Welcome, Anna!

ANNA: Thank you! I am excited to join in on a Let’s Get Visual post for Takehiko Inoue, because I think he is one of the top contemporary manga artists. He has an incredibly detailed and realistic style that really sets his manga apart from other series.

MICHELLE: I just started reading Vagabond the other day, and there was one close-up picture of Takezo drawn with extreme care and obvious skill, and I thought, “Y’know, this should be the image that all manga fans carry around to immediately dispel the misconceived notion that all manga looks alike and/or involves big, sparkly eyes.”

ANNA: I think that Inoue’s style (particularly in Real and Vagabond) is probably more reader-friendly to Western comics fans who haven’t read much manga before.

MICHELLE: Yeah, probably so. I’ve often thought that Western comic fans would probably like a bunch of seinen manga if they’d give it a chance.

Anyways, I suppose we should proceed to get visual! The images I’ve chosen are the very first pages in the very first volume of Real.

Real, Vol. 1 (VIZ Media)

I chose these images because they demonstrate how well Inoue is able to communicate Togawa’s character here without needing any words at all. Okay, sure, this guy is in a wheelchair, but he’s clearly driven. He’s pushing himself, possibly to the point of pain (if that’s what that one black panel represents). He has bulging muscles, so he’s clearly been at this a while. He’s moving fast. He may have a disability, but it doesn’t mean that he can’t take being an athlete seriously.

And then you turn the page and see that he is all alone. Inoue pulls back to show the entirety of the gym to emphasize Togawa’s solitude, and if that wasn’t enough, we get a glimpse of the empty school campus, as well. This sets the stage for what we later learn (which you mention in your review)—that Togawa’s attitude toward his wheelchair basketball team does not mesh well with his hobbyist teammates. Here’s a guy who is giving it his all, and he is the only one.

There’s just so much we can tell from this elegant introduction that it kind of blows me away.

ANNA: I agree that one of the things I like best about Inoue’s art is how much the images are able to contribute to the storytelling of his manga without overtly telling the audience anything. The themes touched on in the images you showed are addressed again later in the manga. Togawa’s ego and isolation contribute to his central struggle in the manga, and at the same time his willingness to practice all by himself shows just how dedicated he is to his sport.

MICHELLE: I will always, always be a big fan of nonverbal storytelling, so Inoue really wins my heart here by going above and beyond impressive art.

Want to tell us about the images you picked?

ANNA: The panels I chose were from Volume 26 of Vagabond, collected in the ninth VIZBIG edition of the series.

Vagabond, Vol. 26 (VIZ Media)

One of the reasons why I love Vagabond so much is that the fight scenes are never merely about two people fighting. There’s always a psychological or philosophical element involved. We see Miyamoto Musashi in a midst of battle against 70 members of the Yoshioka sword school, an ambush he willingly walked into. As he battles, he’s focused on centering himself and living in the moment. The close-up panels of his face show the process of self-reflection even as he is mowing down his opponents.

MICHELLE: That’s a really striking sequence. I like how he seems to be looking off into the horizon as he tells himself to have no aspirations for the future, as if to acknowledge the existence of other paths that he’s not allowing himself to take. Granted, I’ve not read the series that far—I’m barely on volume two—but it almost seems to me like he could walk away from this fight if he wanted to, but he’s not letting himself do it. Is that anywhere near the case?

ANNA: I don’t think Musashi is capable mentally of walking away from a fight like this. There are a lot of things that lead up to this sequence of many chapters where Musashi takes on the entire sword school, but one thing that struck me about the battle as a whole is that while you see Musashi getting beaten down and injured, towards the end Inoue almost has the reader concluding that it was really unfair to the 70 men who were planning on ambushing and attacking Musashi from behind that they had to go up against this one particular single opponent. Vagabond’s
fight scenes are always interesting, even when they stretch on for hundreds of pages, simply because the exquisitely rendered battles are contrasted with the internal struggles of the people who are fighting. Battle is as much of a mental exercise as it is a physical one.

MICHELLE: That’s an interesting point! So far I’ve only seen a few fights, and there hasn’t been much on Takezo’s (as Musashi is known at that point in the story) mental state yet. But I definitely admired the pacing and structure of Inoue’s artistic approach to battle—even watching Takezo just turn around and notice one opponent still standing becomes something frankly terrifying.

ANNA: One the things I enjoy about Vagabond is seeing the way Musashi changes over time. The man fighting the sword school in these panels has a measured sense of self and an inner stillness as he fights opponent after opponent. This is totally different from the way Takezo is portrayed in the earlier volumes, where he is more arrogant and animalistic.

MICHELLE: I definitely look forward to seeing how he gets from point A to point B. I admit, I still prefer Inoue’s sports-related series, but there’s just no denying that Vagabond is a masterpiece.

Thanks to everyone for reading, and we hope we’ve inspired you to check out some Inoue!

Takehiko Inoue MMF Roundup: Part Three

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What started as a trickle has become a steady stream as the Takehiko Inoue MMF begins drawing to a close!

At Experiments in Manga, Ash brown checks out the second Vagabond VIZBIG omnibus, particularly praising the way battles in the series have lasting repercussions for the characters.

At Manga Report, Anna digs into the past for highlights from the Inoue archive page.

Animemiz posts about Inoue’s artwork at the New York City Kinokuniya location.

At Manga Village, the gang collects a bunch of quotes in praise of Inoue’s Slam Dunk and Lori Henderson gives Vagabond a try but ultimately concludes it’s just not her thing.

Lastly, be sure to check out this really interesting article at Manga Therapy that ponders the notion of strength, as depicted in Vagabond.

My thanks to all the contributors!

Takehiko Inoue MMF Roundup: Part Two

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I’ve got a few more Inoue-riffic links to share with you today!

First up, Lori Henderson at Manga Village looks at volume 22 of Slam Dunk, the most recent volume to become available in English, and points out that this is one sports manga where the sport itself is perhaps more important than the typical shounen theme of striving for improvement.

Next, MJand I devoted last night’s Off the Shelf column to a discussion of Inoue’s seinen wheelchair basketball series, Real, which we pretty much rave about unreservedly.

Lastly, my lovely cohost Anna contributes another review (love the Peter Sellers reference in the title!), wherein she shares her thoughts on the first six volumes of Slam Dunk. You might recall from our introductory post that she had yet to try the series, but I am happy to report that she likes it! She also writes really good concluding paragraphs, like this one:

One of the reasons why I liked it so much is that there’s a general feeling of warmth that you get when reading this manga. Sakuragi is often made fun of, but he’s portrayed with affection. He even inspires a bit of grudging respect from his teammates as his basketball skills keep getting better. As a bonus, the reader also gets treated to a variety of ’90s fashions and hairstyles. Inoue’s enthusiasm and love for the game informs the manga, making it seem more personal and interesting than a shonen manga that is developed by committee with the aid of magazine polls. After reading Slam Dunk, I can understand why it was one of the top-selling manga in Japan. If you haven’t tried reading Slam Dunk yet, don’t be an idiot like me and wait for several years—just pick up a few volumes as soon as possible.

What she said!

Off the Shelf: Real

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MICHELLE: Good evening and welcome to a special installment of Off the Shelf. You might be aware that I am co-hosting (with Anna from Manga Report, who’s also a contributor to the Bringing the Drama column here at Manga Bookshelf) the Takehiko Inoue Manga Moveable Feast this week! And so, I have enlisted MJ’s participation so that we might devote this week’s column to Inoue’s seinen series, Real.

Inoue is most famous for Slam Dunk, a thoroughly shounen series about a delinquent who finds his way via basketball, and there are definitely some elements of that in Real. What’s different, however, is that two of the main protagonists are wheelchair-bound and the one able-bodied fellow draws his inspiration from seeing how hard disabled athletes work to achieve their goals.

MJ: I’m thrilled to be talking about this series, Michelle. It was my first exposure to Inoue, and my first experience with a manga series about sports that wasn’t created to fit the standard shounen formula.

Should we talk about the main characters a bit?

MICHELLE: Sure! Actually, I think Anna summed up their personalities very well in her review, so I am just going to quote her, if that’s okay!

Real centers on three main protagonists. Tomomi Nomiya is a wanna-be tough guy who is a bit of an outcast at school even though he is on the basketball team. He was involved in a motorcycle accident that paralyzed his passenger, a girl named Natsumi whom he had just picked up randomly. Hisanobu Takahashi is the arrogant new basketball captain who is about to experience something that will change his life forever. Kiyoharu Togawa is an elite athlete who had most of one leg taken off due to a childhood brush with cancer. His driven personality isn’t a good match with the hobbyists on his wheelchair basketball team.

That’s how we find them at the beginning of the series, and as the story progresses, they inspire each other (and others) in seemingly infinite ways while each struggling to find and pursue their own path. Ultimately, for each of them, basketball turns out to be that path, but this is definitely far from being your typical sports manga.

MJ: I think “far from being your typical sports manga” is really key here. Even, as you say, when these characters serve as inspiration, there’s no heroic glow carrying the story forward. Their pain and their disappointments are real, and not easily banished by fine speeches or awe-inspiring action scenes. Real is not afraid to get into the real darkness its protagonists fall into at various points in the story, nor does it gloss over their wrongs. Real is unforgiving, much like life.

MICHELLE: The plight of Hisanobu Takahashi, the aforementioned arrogant guy, best illustrates what you’re talking about, I think. Here’s a guy, obsessed with comparing himself to others, who becomes paralyzed as a result of being hit by a truck while fleeing on a stolen bicycle. Inoue relentlessly takes us through his ups and downs, hopes that bubble up and are quickly dashed, and doesn’t try to artificially improve Hisanobu’s attitude overnight. There are encounters that buoy him for a while, a rivalry with Nomiya that motivates him, but he’s in a fragile state and can still be sent spiraling down by the sight of a seeming weakling who is better at physical rehab than he is.

It’s as if Inoue is saying, “You can borrow some strength from others, but in the end, it’s all up to you to follow through.”

MJ: Takahashi’s is perhaps the most interesting journey to me, I think because Inoue doesn’t let him off the hook for anything, so when he does achieve small successes, they really feel earned. Though I also like the fact that Nomiya is traveling what could be considered an impossible path (to become a professional player). I admit I’m really anxious to see where that goes in the end.

MICHELLE: Me, too. I desperately hope he is able to make the pro team, and that’s what I’ve been groomed to expect from my years of loving sports manga, but I’m faced with the very real possibility that Inoue will depict him not making it and being shattered by the experience. I really love Nomiya very much, and one of my favorite scenes is where he’s just lost his job after trying so hard at it, and he really needs to see Togawa’s wheelchair basketball team, The Tigers, achieve their dream after putting in so much effort. They don’t, however, and I wonder what sort of blow it’ll be to him if he also fails. I feel as though I’m watching a friend put their everything into something that might not pan out, so I root for them but also I worry.

MJ: Of course, that’s part of what makes this series work so well. Both volumes nine and ten acquired some vaguely shounen tendencies, with a lot of (from my review of volume 10) “grand declarations, gritty determination, and talk of achieving one’s dreams,” but even then, there’s no sense that this will necessarily happen.

MICHELLE: But, you know, I still can’t loving those moments. If there is any one drawback to Real, it’s that I kept expecting them to, like, all join the same team and get awesome together and beat their rivals. But it takes until volume ten for Hisanobu to remember his one encounter with Togawa, the basketball badass in a wheelchair, and realize “I could do that.”

Not that I’m complaining, of course, because so much of his journey is learning how to really work for something again, which he hasn’t done since he was a kid, essentially on account of his father abandoning the family.

Y’know… we haven’t seen any of Nomiya’s childhood yet, have we? We’ve seen some of Togawa’s and quite a lot of Hisanobu’s, but none of Nomiya’s. We just hear about his mother bringing back sweets from her various trips.

MJ: You know, that’s a good point. It’s been a while since I looked at early volumes, but I don’t recall that we have. Perhaps that’s yet to come.

Actually, I realize now that with volumes 9 and 10 freshest in my mind, I’ve let Togawa go a little bit. With Takahashi’s and Nomiya’s stories really hitting their stride, Togawa’s hasn’t been quite as much front-and-center as of late.

MICHELLE: No, it hasn’t. But it was certainly getting lovely there for a bit, with the introduction of Ryo, a sullen disabled teen, who is inspired by Togawa just as a young Togawa was by Tora, the original founder of the Tigers. And the beauty of it all is that Togawa has no idea that he’s become such a figure for this kid. We’ve heard a lot about the history of the Tigers, how it went from Tora’s era, to Yama’s (a friend of Togawa whose physical condition is deteriorating rapidly), to Togawa’s. I’m sure it’ll be Ryo’s era after that. I delight in seeing this familiar character through fresh eyes, while we’ve become entirely accustomed to his various faults. Inoue sure is adept at introducing new/secondary characters who immediately become integral to the story.

MJ: That’s true! I’m currently quite enamored with Hara-sensei, Takahashi’s badass… uh, physical therapist? I guess that’s what she probably she, but without any of the touchy-feely Florence Nighiengale-y images that might normally spring forth.

MICHELLE: I also like his two friends in rehab, who are challenging his notions of ranks and worth. There’s Shiratori, the famous wrestler, who is actually behind where Takahashi is in his recovery, and then there’s Hanamaki, the scrawny otaku, who is farther along than both of them, but who yet is a major Shiratori fanboy. Supporting each of the three protagonists are people who can help them change and find their way, including a couple of intriguing female characters that I wish we got to learn more about.

MJ: It’s true, the series’ female characters seem to come and go rather quickly. I’m particularly interested in Azumi, Togawa’s childhood friend who also manages the Tigers. There’s a favorite scene of mine in volume 10, where she must indignantly remind Togawa that she has goals and dreams as well.

MICHELLE: The pair of them actually remind me a little of the main character and his sidekick in Drops of God, but Azumi seems to be more complicated than her counterpart, which I appreciate.

One thing we haven’t yet touched upon is Inoue’s art in Real, which is pretty damned awesome. He excels at both action and expression, but some of my favorite sequences are more fanciful, like when Hisanobu and Nomiya engage in a mutual daydream about what would’ve happened had they been present for their high school team’s final game.

MJ: I become impressed all over again by how expressive Inoue’s artwork is with every new volume. The series has a gritty, realistic look to it, but there’s such life on the page! In volume ten, page 148, there’s a tear running down Shiratori’s otherwise mostly covered face, and it’s the most oddly expressive, moving, not even remotely beautiful tear I’ve ever seen. It has none of that graceful mono no aware sensibility that tear-shedding moments so often have. In fact, it could just as easily be a trickle of sweat. But to see it on this huge man’s covered face is just… kind of stunning.

MICHELLE: It’s art that really serves the characters instead of merely being technically proficient. The first few pages of the first volume stunned me, because in that opening sequence you learn practically all you need to know about Togawa. In fact, I plan to discuss them in greater depth in a Let’s Get Visual column this weekend.

Another great thing about Real is that it feels far from over! We’ve talked about Nomiya’s impossible-seeming goal, but Togawa also wants to make it to the Paralympics, so perhaps the series, in sports manga fashion, will end there? I admit that would be very satisfying, but I don’t know that we should expect it.

MJ: It’s really impossible to guess! Like you, I’d love to see all three characters achieve their dreams (and in spectacular, shounen-style fashion) but I’m not making any bets!

MICHELLE: Well, volume eleven is due in November, so perhaps there’ll be a little closer to their goals at that point!

MJ: I can’t wait!

Reviews of Real at Manga Bookshelf: Real, Vol. 10 (MJ), Real, Vol. 9 (MJ), Real, Vols. 1-8 (MJ), Real, Vols. 1-4 (Kate), Real, Vol. 10 (Kate)

Takehiko Inoue MMF Roundup: Part One

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The Takehiko Inoue MMF is underway and submissions are beginning to come in! I’ve got three of them to share this morning.

First up is a post from Matt at Matt Talks About Manga , where he talks about the first VIZBIG collection of Vagabond, comprising the first three volumes of the series. I have to admit that my favorite quote is, “The art. Oh, God, the art. It’s beyond fantastic.”

Next up is Ash at Experiments in Manga, who looks at the first two volumes of Inoue’s Slam Dunk for the My Week in Manga column.

Lastly, my cohost Anna checks out the first five volumes of Real at her site, Manga Report. She’s written the post as a volume-by-volume synopsis, pointing out the particular highlights of each, but my favorite observations are right at the end:

While Real centers around the wheelchair basketball world, it uses that setting as a way of exploring the underlying psychological issues of the protagonists. Nomiya desperately searches for a form of redemption. Hisanobu’s toxic habits of personality and thought patterns threaten to derail his rehabilitation. While there is no question that Togawa has the drive and personality to be an elite athlete, his lack of people skills while playing a team sport might threaten his bright future. Real is just an absolutely gripping manga, and I know I’m going to be seeking out the remaining translated volumes of the series as soon as possible.

Thanks to all contributors! And remember, if you want to participate… the MMF is running through June 30th and you can email me (swanjun at gmail dot com) with links to your submission!

BL Bookrack: June 2012

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Welcome to the June installment of BL Bookrack! This month, Michelle takes a look at Honey Darling, a rare print release from SuBLime Manga, while MJchecks out Juné’s recent reprinting of fan favorite Only the Ring Finger Knows. In Brief: Kaoru Kun from the Digital Manga Guild, and an early look at The Young Protectors from Yaoi 911.


Honey Darling | By Norikazu Akira | Published by SuBLime | Rated Mature – In a word, Honey Darling is “adorable.” So adorable, in fact, that I am perfectly willing to forget the few minor quibbles I have with it.

Chihiro Takahashi is a young man “just drifting through life.” He doesn’t have any goals or aspirations, and he’s never had a serious relationship. When he happens past an abandoned kitten, however, he can’t just ignore her, and ends up becoming a well-intentioned, if uninformed, pet owner. When the kitty (Shiro) develops a cold, a frantic Chihiro takes to the streets where he conveniently runs into Daisuke Kumazawa, gruff but kind veterinarian. Kumazawa gives Chihiro a stern lecture about the responsibilities of pet ownership, and after Chihiro tears up at the enormity of his error, offers him a job as a live-in housekeeper, saying, “You’d be like… my wife.”

I was fully prepared for Chihiro to be incompetent at the tasks assigned, but he actually does a good job and works hard. Over time, he decides that he’d like to become a veterinary nurse. And really, it’s the amount of weight given to this plot point that really makes me love Honey Darling. Sure, a romance is slowly developing between Chihiro and Kumazawa, but the story reads like the main point of it all is Chihiro finding a place where he belongs, and discovering something to be passionate about. And that will always, always be my favorite plot ever, no matter how many times I read it.

There’s no crazy, out-of-left-field drama in Honey Darling. Sure, it’s not the most realistic thing ever, but it’s sweet and cute and cheery. I’m not fond of Daisuke referring to menial labor as the wifely role, true, and the character designs are a little bland, but I enjoyed this oneshot very much and honestly wish there were more of it.

– Review by Michelle Smith


Only the Ring Finger Knows | By Satoru Kannagi & Hotaru Odagiri | Published by Juné | Rated YA – What makes a romance story work? This was the question most on my mind as I breathlessly finished Only the Ring Finger Knows, a sort of neo-classic BL manga (based on a popular light novel series) which was originally released in English in 2004—three full years before I began reading manga, and long before I started reading in the boys’ love genre. It’s been out of print for some time, but with the final volume of the light novel series due for release this fall, DMP has reprinted the manga, allowing latecomers like me to finally join the party. And what a lovely party it is.

The setup is typical of standard high school romance. There’s a fad sweeping through Wataru’s high school, in which students indicate their relationship status by the placement of (sometimes matching) rings on their fingers. Various configurations indicate friendship, availability, or (of course) love. When Wataru discovers that his own ring (bought on a whim) matches that of a popular upperclassman, Yuichi Kazuki, the situation is primarily annoying, as every girl in school wants to know where he got his ring. Furthermore, Kazuki himself is inexplicably hostile to Wataru, though he seems to be kind to everyone else.

Of course this is BL, so we know that all signs point to love, but as with all romance, the story’s success depends on its execution, and here’s where my opening question comes up again. What makes a romance story work? I’ve stated many criteria in the past, including compelling characters, believable relationship development, emotional truth, blah blah blah, but what is it really that makes the difference between a perfectly pleasant tale of romance and the kind that sweeps us away completely, filling our hearts with joy and a sweet, sweet anxiety that lingers long after we’ve turned the last page?

I tend to be a big-picture thinker, but in this case, I suspect that the devil is in the details. Within this questionably original setup, it’s the little things that matter. The tilt of a chin, a hurried glance, the tentative movement of a hand—these are the details that accent the story’s most significant emotional beats. With these perfect details, the tension between Wataru and Kazuki is thick and volatile from the start, far ahead of Wataru’s own understanding of what’s happening in his own heart and mind. The combination of intense interest and awkwardness between the two main characters seems so real, to continue reading almost feels like an intrusion. It’s painfully delicate and honestly breathtaking in a way that only romance can be, and to a great extent, it’s reminded me why I like the genre so much in the first place.

Satoru Kannagi’s original light novel is no longer in print in English, but as much as I’d like to read it, I must admit that Hotaru Odagiri’s expressive artwork does so much of the heavy lifting here, it’s difficult to imagine the story playing out so gracefully in prose. If, like me, you missed Only the Ring Finger Knows the first time around, don’t let this reprinting pass you by. Joyfully recommended.

– Review by MJ

In Brief:

Kaoru Kun | By Suguro Chayamachi | Digital Manga Guild | Rated YA – Most regular readers of Manga Bookshelf are by now pretty familiar with my personal tastes in BL, including a penchant for what I once described as “quiet/ideosyncratic character studies.” Kaoru Kun fits that description to a T, while also proving that this alone is not enough—or perhaps that not enough is not enough. The volume starts strong as mangaka Suguro Chayamichi introduces Kaoru, an abused, neglected child desperately searching for affection wherever he can find it. Later chapters check in with Kaoru as his life improves and he learns to let his naturally gentle nature heal the wounds of others. Unfortunately, just three chapters in, Chayamachi (or her publisher) drops the ball, abandoning the character we’ve learned to care so much for in favor of several unrelated stories that fail to fill the gap left by his absence. Though the result is ultimately unsatisfying, Kaoru’s unfinished story is still worth reading. Hesitantly recommended. – MJ

The Young Protectors | By Alex Woolfson, Adam DeKraker, & Veronica Gandini | Yaoi 911 – Probably the greatest weakness in Alex Woolfson’s otherwise terrific sci-fi webcomic Artifice is the author’s decision to shortchange his characters’ relationship development in order to get to the juicy bits. In his new comic, The Young Protectors, Woolfson accelerates this further by putting one of those bits right up front, but perhaps with better results. As the series opens, a young superhero is caught emerging from his first trip to a gay bar by a hunky supervillain, leading fairly quickly into a semi-coerced makeout session that *just* manages to avoid feeling unforgiveably creepy by the fact that it reads more like the boy’s fantasy than anything else. In another author’s hands, starting with that kind of hormone-heavy fantasy might read like an intro to plotless porn, but in this case it seems likely that we’re in for something deeper, and perhaps by getting some of this out of the way from the get-go, Woolfson will feel at leisure to take more time with the good stuff. I’m optimistic, and you should be too. Check it out. – MJ

Review copies provided by the publishers.

Disclosure: MJ is currently under contract with Digital Manga Publishing’s Digital Manga Guild, as necessitated for her ongoing report Inside the DMG. Any compensation earned by MJin her role as an editor with the DMG will be donated to the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund.

Other recent BL reviews from MJ & Michelle: Honey Darling (SuBLime)

Bookshelf Briefs 6/18/12

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

Fairy Tail, Vol. 19 | By Hiro Mashima | Kodansha Comics – I suspect that this arc will wrap up in the next volume, which is good. Of course, that means that this volume is all fighting, which is bad. Not that it makes for a bad volume, it’s just harder to know what to say about it. Our heroes get an assist from the Blue Pegasus Guild, who arrive to tell everyone how to defeat the bad guy. Jellal starts to remember some things – particularly Natsu hating him, which is sort of amusing. And Erza gets to kick ass, which is probably the main reason anyone reads Fairy Tail. There’s a cute little short story right near the end which shows Lucy putting Fairy Tail over love, to no one’s surprise. Overall, though, it’s a fighting volume, so sit back and watch the punches and magic as we crawl closer to a climax. –Sean Gaffney

A Devil and Her Love Song, Vol. 3 | By Miyoshi Tomori | VIZ Media – Certain situations in stories (no matter the medium) never fail to make me feel antsy, and right at the top is “misunderstandings that could be cleared up by communication,” followed closely by “no no no, don’t trust that girl, something terrible is going to happen!” The third volume of A Devil and Her Love Song had me on edge because both elements are in play, as a superficially sunny student returns to class and proceeds to make herself appear to be Maria’s victim. One really does feel for Maria throughout, as she is honestly confused, and there are some great scenes where she gets support from the three friends she has thus far managed to make. Maria may be prickly, but she’s always honest and never fake, and this volume really makes it clear how much potential she has to be a truly fabulous friend. Heartily recommended. – Michelle Smith

The Earl and the Fairy, Vol. 2 | By Mizue Tani and Ayuko | VIZ Media – This volume of EaF is a bit darker than the first one, and there seems to be an air of melancholy about the whole thing. When one of our protagonists betrays Edgar, he seems less surprised than simply resigned. Unfortunately, we still don’t have a lot of his backstory yet. Which, while it adds to the air of mystery around him, makes him hard to take seriously as an ‘antagonist’. He’s not really bad enough for Lydia to be doubting him as much as she is, so we just end up frustrated with her. That said, the volume’s climax, with Lydia displaying some amazing gumption *and* cleverly resolving the whole ‘title’ thing, is well-handled, and actually makes the rewards feel earned. The volume ends with a brief tease for the future two volumes, but it also marks a good stopping place for those who find this series OK, but not great. –Sean Gaffney

GTO: 14 Days in Shonan, Vol. 3 | By Toru Fujisawa | Vertical, Inc. – It’s no secret that the first two volumes of GTO: 14 Days in Shonan were an unexpected success with me, so it should be no surprise that I had a similar experience with the third. Onizuka continues to be my new favorite shounen anti-hero even when he’s creepy, which is certainly the case in this volume. Thankfully, Onizuka’s creepiness is easily trumped by his badass brand of insightful compassion, though it’s worth mentioning that this volume’s most poignant moments belong to the White Swan kids themselves, whose tragic histories are laid out for us with honesty and true pathos. Less successful is a middle chapter revolving around the White Swan’s perverted headmaster, rendered tolerable only by its brevity. Fortunately, no amount of questionably tasteful vagina metaphors can cancel out this series’ general awesomeness. Still recommended. – MJ