Manga Bookshelf

Discussion, Resources, Roundtables, & Reviews

Michelle Smith

The Railway Children by E. Nesbit: A

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From the back cover:
When Father goes away unexpectedly, Roberta, Peter, Phyllis and their mother have to leave their happy life in London to go and live in a small cottage in the country. The children seek solace in the nearby railway station, and make friends with Perks the Porter and the Station Master himself. But the mystery remains: where is Father, and will he ever return?

Review:
This is the story of three children—Roberta (Bobbie), Peter, and Phyllis—who move with their mother from the city to the country after their beloved father mysteriously goes away. Though it’s initially a culture shock, they’re soon fascinated by the railway and make many friends among its staff and patrons and end up helping quite a few people—and receiving help in return—along the way.

Perhaps the best compliment I could give The Railway Children is that I wish it had gone on for about three times as long. But, as Peter sagely opines, everything must end.

‘There’s no end to this tunnel,’ said Phyllis—and indeed it did seem very, very long.

‘Stick to it,’ said Peter; ‘everything has an end, and you get to it if you only keep on.’

Which is quite true, if you come to think of it, and a useful thing to remember in seasons of trouble—such as measles, arithmetic, impositions, and those times when you are in disgrace, and feel as though no one would ever love you again, and you could never—never again—love anybody.

The passage above exemplifies several of the qualities that make this book such a charming read. The narration, for example, has a comradely air, evincing sympathy for the child’s point of view while utilizing humor that would please any audience. Here’s another bit at which I giggled—it takes place right after the children have gone out to pick cherries and end up preventing a terrible accident:

Bobbie said nothing. She was thinking of the horrible mound, and the trustful train rushing towards it.

‘And it was us that saved them’ said Peter.

‘How dreadul if they had all been killed!’ said Phyllis; ‘wouldn’t it, Bobbie?’

‘We never got any cherries, after all,’ said Bobbie.

The others thought her rather heartless.

I could go on quoting similar diverting passages, but must address a second strong point in favor of this book: the characterization of the children. Now, it may be said that it’s idealistic to expect children this clever and honest to truly exist, but Nesbit is also careful to give each of them flaws. Peter is a bit hot-headed, Phyllis is self-absorbed, and Bobbie is… well, Bobbie hasn’t really got faults, and yet I love her best of the lot.

Bobbie’s the eldest, and poised on the brink of growing up. She still has fun playing with her siblings, but she’s the one attuned to her mother’s sorrow, and realizes that asking about their father’s whereabouts would only cause more pain. When she discovers the truth, and thinks how it would affect her younger siblings, she understands why her mother did not reveal it. She’s brave, kind, sensitive, and thoughtful. The family owes their happiness to her, though they know it not.

The end result is a story that is wholesome, but never saccharine. The children invariably do the right thing, but that doesn’t make them immune from quarrels. Unfair and frightening things happen, but likewise people are willing to offer help when asked. Cleverness and simple goodness are prized more than foolhardy exploits, and the children are extremely proud of their mother, who uses her gift of storytelling to support the family after the move. It’s a story that makes one feel good about people, and oh, that ending! “I think that just now we are not wanted there. I think it will be best for us to go quickly and quietly away.”

Clearly I must read more E. Nesbit.

Additional reviews of The Railway Children can be found at Triple Take.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season Eight 5 by Jane Espenson, et al.: C+

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From the back cover:
When Buffy’s former classmate-turned-vampire Harmony Kendall lands her own reality TV show, vampires are bolstered into the mainstream. Humans fall in line; they want a piece of the glitz, glam, and eternal youth bestowed upon these mysterious creatures of the night. What’s a Slayer to do when vampires are the trendiest thing in the world? While humans donate their blood to the vampire cause, Slayers—through a series of missteps, misfortunes, and anti-Slayer propaganda driven by the mysterious Twilight—are forced into hiding.

Review:
The fifth collected volume of Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season Eight comics is comprised of five one-shots, four of which are written by writers from the show. You might think that’s a good thing, but it doesn’t always turn out to be the case.

Issue 21, “Harmonic Divergence,” is written by Jane Espenson. Captured on film one evening while snacking on Andy Dick, Harmony becomes an instant celebrity. A reality show—with Clem for a sidekick!—on MTV follows. The show portrays Harmony sympathetically, as someone who drinks from humans but doesn’t do them any harm, and when a Slayer decides to take Harmony out on-camera, it spawns a tide of anti-Slayer sentiment.

It’s true, vampires are a big craze at the moment, but I find this whole plotline—it continues for some time—to be kind of stupid. What’s worse is that George Jeanty seriously can’t draw Mercedes McNab (the actress who portrays Harmony) to save his life. He does no better with original characters, either. At one point the nameless Slayer looks like a middle-aged man in drag.

Issue 22, “Swell,” is not much better. Written by Steven S. DeKnight, it takes place in Tokyo, where Kennedy has arrived to conduct an evaluation of newly promoted Satsu. Meanwhile, Twilight, the big bad of the season, has taken over the San(to)rio Corporation and disguised a bunch of demons as “Vampy Cat” plushies with plans to ship them to Scotland, where Buffy is. Probably this is supposed to be funny, but again, it’s just kind of stupid. Kennedy does offer Satsu some advice about pining for a straight girl, though, and the issue ends with Satsu resolved to move on.

The best story of the lot is “Predators and Prey,” by Drew Z. Greenberg. Taking advantage of the current attitude towards Slayers, rogue Slayer Simone and her gang have ousted the residents of an Italian village and taken over. Feeling responsible as Simone’s former Watcher, Andrew has taken an “ends justify the means” approach to getting intel on her whereabouts, resulting in not only an amusing roadtrip with Buffy, but a lot of growth for his character. Having never earned anyone’s trust before, he’s terrified of losing it, which makes him screw up for the right reasons. Buffy tells him to get used to it, because that’s her family’s specialty. Not only does this issue have some funny lines, it’s actually quite significant for Andrew. Gold star for Greenberg!

The one story penned by someone who never wrote for the show is “Safe,” by Jim Krueger. It stars Faith and Giles, which it earns points for immediately, as they investigate a so-called Slayer Sanctuary for girls who decide they’d rather not fight. The plot is kind of lame, but there’s some good dialogue, particularly from Faith, and some insights into her deep feelings of regret for her early failings as a Slayer. This issue is drawn by Cliff Richards, who does a much better job than Jeanty at capturing the likenesses of the actors. He also seems to have a greater repertoire of facial expressions.

Lastly, issue 25 is called “Living Doll” and is written by Doug Petrie. Dawn has gone missing and Buffy and Xander follow her hoofprinty trail while Andrew tracks down Kenny, the guy responsible for casting the spell on her in the first place. Long story short, Dawn apologizes to Kenny, becomes human again, and spends some quality time with Buffy watching Veronica Mars. (Man, I miss that show.)

While the first two stories are pretty bad, the other three offer solid character moments even though the plots themselves leave something to be desired. I’ve said before that this is something a Buffy fan simply becomes used to, so it doesn’t bother me all that much. I’d probably be happier with a series full of vignettes like these than what is coming over the next couple of arcs.

Ashenden by W. Somerset Maugham: A

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Book description:
When war broke out in 1914, Somerset Maugham was dispatched by the British Secret Service to Switzerland under the guise of completing a play. Multilingual, knowledgeable about many European countries and a celebrated writer, Maugham had the perfect cover, and the assignment appealed to his love of romance, and of the ridiculous. The stories collected in Ashenden are rooted in Maugham’s own experiences as an agent, reflecting the ruthlessness and brutality of espionage, its intrigue and treachery, as well as its absurdity.

Review:
I have only read two books by W. Somerset Maugham, of which this is the second, and I can already proclaim without a shred of doubt that he’s one of my favorite writers. Everything about the way he writes appeals to me. He’s wry and keenly observant, with a knack for creating vivid portraits of his characters while wasting not a single word.

Here’s an example, taken from the story “A Chance Acquaintance.”

Mr. Harrington was devoted to his wife and he told Ashenden at unbelievable length how cultivated and what a perfect mother she was. She had delicate health and had undergone a great number of operations, all of which he described in detail. He had had two operations himself, one of his tonsils and one to remove his appendix, and he took Ashenden day by day through his experiences. All his friends had had operations and his knowledge of surgery was encyclopedic. He had two sons, both at school, and he was seriously considering whether he would not be well-advised to have them operated on.

Maugham’s writing is so wonderful that if I learned he’d penned a six-volume ode to cole slaw, I would grab it because I could be certain that it would be witty and somehow make me think of cole slaw in a way I never had before. The fact that the stories in Ashenden are actually excellent, therefore, is just icing on the proverbial cake.

Instead of being utterly disconnected, the stories here function as a string of vignettes in the life of Ashenden, a writer who’s been drafted as an agent of the British Intelligence Department during World War I. They’re at least partly based on Maugham’s own experiences in this capacity, though he hastens to impress upon the reader that this is a work of fiction.

Ashenden is recruited by a Colonel known to him only as R., and sent on a variety of missions that include playing escort to an eccentric Mexican assassin, arranging for a traveling dancer to betray her revolutionary Indian lover, ascertaining whether an Englishman spying for Germany might be recruited as a double agent, attempting to prevent the Bolshevik revolution, and more. Sometimes he succeeds, frequently with bittersweet results, and sometimes he fails. Occasionally his objective or the outcome is not known to the reader, since Maugham is more interested in describing the people Ashenden meets than in the specifics of his efforts.

It’s impossible to pick a favorite story, as each has its share of indelible moments to recommend it. Since the tales featuring the voluble Mr. Harrington are at the end of the collection and I have read them most recently, I feel a soft spot for those in particular, though “The Traitor” and “Giulia Lazzari” are each unforgettable.

If you’ve a particular interest in war-time Europe, Ashenden ought not be missed. Really, it ought not be missed in any case, but if the subject matter holds special appeal for you then you’ve really got no excuse!

Off the Shelf: Sweet Surprises

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Welcome to another edition of Off the Shelf with MJ & Michelle! I’m joined, as always, by Soliloquy in Blue‘s Michelle Smith.

This week, we take a look at new releases from Viz Media and Tokyopop, as well as a continuing series fromYen Press.

MJ: Greetings from the land of mountainous snow!

MICHELLE: Salutations from the land of Floridians feeling put out because they have to wear gloves!

MJ: I hate you people.

MICHELLE: Fine. Then we’re taking back all our sweet tea.

MJ: I didn’t mean it! I didn’t mean it! Please bring back the tea!

MICHELLE: Thought so. *smugs*

MJ: So, while you’re feeling smug, wanna tell me what you’ve been reading?

MICHELLE: First up for me this week is Arina Tanemura’s Mistress Fortune, a one-shot due out from VIZ on February 1st. I haven’t had the best luck with Tanemura—early on, I enjoyed the anime version of Kamikaze Kaito Jeanne and the manga Full Moon o Sagashite, but was disappointed by the overpopulated and abruptly truncated Time Stranger Kyoko as well as what little I read of The Gentlemen’s Alliance Cross. Quite frankly, I expected not to like this.

At first, it seemed like I’d be right, since I rolled my eyes several times during the opening pages. The gist of the plot is thus: Kisaki is a fourteen-year-old psychic who works for a government agency fighting adorable aliens. She’s partnered with Giniro, a boy her own age, with whom she is in love but about whom she’s forbidden to ask any personal questions. Their code names are Fortune Quartz and Fortune Tiara and they focus their psychic powers by affixing cheerful star-shaped stickers to their target.

Really.

But, y’know, somehow this story managed to grow on me! I think part of it must be that Tanemura is simply better when dealing with smaller casts of characters, as in those series I mentioned liking above. Secondarily, because it’s a very relaxed, three-chapter love story it isn’t as if I went into it really expecting any sort of depth. Kisaki loves Giniro. Giniro is fixated on Kisaki’s boobs. She discovers he has angst. A very brief misunderstanding ensues. They declare their love. Spoilers? Not really; it was inevitable.

One thing that genuinely pleased me is that Tanemura’s attempts at humor are actually amusing this time. I still shudder in horror at a theoretically comical side character from Time Stranger Kyoko, but the plushie-looking alien, EBE-ko, whose dreams is to be a socialite with designer bags, is actually lively and cute. There are also a couple of fun “reaction shots” from eyewitness animals, like if something slightly naughty happens, you’ll cut to a nearby frog who says, “I saw it!”

No, Mistress Fortune is not great, but it’s certainly much better than I’d expected.

MJ: I actually read this recently as well, and my experience was very similar to yours. I started out rolling my eyes, but was mostly won over by the end, mainly thanks to the whimsical charm of EBE-ko. Though it’s a pretty shallow romance overall, it’s also very appropriate to the age of the characters and the tone of this short manga. I wasn’t wowed or anything, but I was pleasantly surprised.

MICHELLE: Exactly. It gave me some hope that Sakura Hime, Tanemura’s other new VIZ series (due April 5th), might be kind of fun. The Heian Era setting is encouraging, at least.

MJ: Agreed!

MICHELLE: Read any pleasantly surprising things this week?

MJ: Yes I did, actually! You know, despite your recommendation, I still wasn’t quite prepared for the utter sweetness that is Yuuki Fujimoto’s The Stellar Six of Gingacho.

For those who don’t know, the series revolves around 13-year-old Mike (pronounced “Mee-kay”) and five friends she grew up with, all from families who own food stands in a busy street market. Over the past year, as they entered middle school, the six have quietly drifted apart, each making new friends and becoming increasingly awkward with each other. Feeling the loss, Mike tries to bring the gang back together by inviting them to enter a traditional dance contest at their market’s summer festival. Though her efforts are unsuccessful at first, a mutual enemy finally puts them all on the same page.

The story is simple and not particularly suspenseful, but Mike and her friends are so likable and fun to be with, it’s a real pleasure to watch things play out.

The series’ first volume focuses mainly on Mike and her best buddy, Kuro, son of the market’s fishmonger, from whom she was inseparable until puberty came along to make their friendship more complicated. Their story is nothing new, but there’s something so fresh about the telling of it, you’d swear it was the first of its kind. The secret to this may be the fact that neither their affection nor their awkwardness is overplayed, leaving smaller moments to stand out with real poignance. A panel, for instance, in which Mike first notices that Kuro’s hands have gotten bigger than hers, is actually quite touching, though it comes and goes in the blink of an eye.

Fujimoto’s artwork is spare and not especially distinctive, though like this story, it’s surprisingly expressive. And the fact that one of the Six is a genuinely lovely, overweight girl earns about a hundred points from me.

Though the others of the Six are yet defined by fairly surface characteristics, I expect they’ll each find their moments in upcoming volumes of the series. I honestly can’t wait.

MICHELLE: Oh, I’m so glad you liked it! You mention several of the things I liked best, myself—the moment about Kuro’s hands and the overweight character who is not written off as “fat girl” and given no face or personality—and captured the appeal of the story well when you said that though the story isn’t new, something about the telling feels fresh. I do get the feeling each of the friends will receive more attention as we go along, but I like Mike a lot, so I hope we never stray too far from her perspective.

MJ: Yes, Mike is a lot of fun, and really it’s Fujimoto’s characterization of her that has me so looking forward to getting to know the other four kids. I have a lot of confidence that they’ll all be equally as special. Also, Mike and Kuro have such a sweet backstory, I feel certain we’ll see more of the bonds between the others as well.

So, what else have you got for us this week?

MICHELLE: I read the third and fourth volumes of Yana Toboso’s Black Butler. Despite some terrifically unfunny supporting characters, I’ve enjoyed this series from the beginning, but the third volume really takes things to a whole new level.

In this series, a thirteen-year-old named Ciel Phantomhive is the head of his family after a fire claimed the lives of his parents. To assist him in his plans for revenge he has entered into a contract with a devil who is serving him in the guise of his butler, Sebastian. The Earls of Phantomhive have always served as a “watch dog” for the crown, a duty Ciel is now expected to perform for Queen Victoria. When she sends him to London to find Jack the Ripper, he duly complies, not realizing someone from within his own family is involved.

There are probably a million historical inaccuracies in this setting, but I don’t care. I’m a sucker for Victorian England, and it’s simply a lot of fun watching Sebastian get into a fight with a chainsaw-wielding corrupt shinigami on a cobblestone street. Moreover, the change of scenery provides some respite from the entirely
incompetent servants at the Phantomhive manor.

They return in volume four, alas, along with a pretty self-proclaimed Indian prince with an impressive butler of his own. This time Ciel is in London to investigate assault crimes against Englishmen who’ve recently returned from India, but developments in the case somehow prompt the leads to contemplate entering a curry competition. I didn’t enjoy this volume as much as the third, but the emphasis on solving mysteries is pretty fun and Toboso’s art is very easy on the eyes.

MJ: I’m heartened a bit to hear your take on volume three, since I let this series go after the first two volumes which did very little for me. The third volume actually sounds like it might be genuinely fun. Maybe I’ll give it another look. Do you find yourself looking forward to the next volume?

MICHELLE: I do! In fact, I even pondered checking out the anime, which is a rare thing for me. If you’ve let the series lapse, I definitely recommend checking out at least volume three because it shows the potential of this series to become something genuinely fascinating.

MJ: I’m genuinely surprised to hear it!

MICHELLE: Now I’m genuinely hoping “fascinating” wasn’t an overstatement. I’ve at least become invested in a way I wasn’t before, which is really all one can ask for.

MJ: That’s good enough for me!

Join us again next week, when we’ll be discussing Karakuri Odette for a special MMF edition of Off the Shelf!

PotW Showdown: Cross Game vs. InuYasha

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David leads us off this week, in our second group Pick of the Week with the Manga Bookshelf gang & special guest Michelle Smith! This week comes down to a showdown between a new series and a long-running favorite. Who will come out on top?

From David: I’m very happy to go first this week, because I’m fairly sure I won’t be the only person to choose the second volume of Mitsuru Adachi’s Cross Game (Viz), and I don’t want to seem like a copycat. I was so pleasantly surprised by the first multi-volume collection, with its slice-of-life blend of comedy and drama. If the prospect of a story about sports (baseball, in this case) triggers your fight-or-flight instinct, and I would be very much in sympathy if it does, I urge you to try and suppress the response. Adachi is the real deal as a manga-ka: a versatile original who earns laughs and tears with equal facility and surprising subtlety. Come to think of it, I don’t care if I seem like a copycat. The more people who sing this book’s praises, the merrier. Looking at Cross Game‘s inclusion in Deb Aoki’s round-up of the Critics’ Choice: Best Manga of 2010, it seems like the merriment is off to a great start.

From MJ: I expect you’re right, David, though it won’t be me (only because I haven’t read the first volume!), and in fact, it’s a bit of a difficult week for me, with nothing from ComicList piquing my interest, though I did find an exciting item elsewhere. I took a peek at Comicopia’s list where they claim to be expecting the second volume of Yumemakura Baku and Jiro Taniguchi’s Summit of the Gods from Fanfare-Ponent Mon. The series’ first volume was stunningly beautiful, and despite the fact that it sometimes feels like an illustrated novel rather than a comic (I’ll point to Kate’s review for a thoughtful discussion of the series’ strengths and flaws), it’s definitely a must-read. This volume has been due out for quite a while, so I was surprised to see it on the list. I’ll definitely be looking to pick one up!

From Kate: Cross Game and Summit of the Gods are both on my must-read list, but I’m going with a sentimental favorite this week: InuYasha. The final volume — that’s number 56, for folks who are still keeping track after all these years — arrives in stores on Wednesday. After so many story arcs, villains, and recovered jewel shards, it will be interesting to see how Rumiko Takahashi brings the whole thing to a close. I suspect that many readers have expectations for how and with whom the characters ride off into the sunset, making it a sure bet that someone will be disappointed in the conclusion. (Look for a surge in InuYasha fan-fic in the coming weeks…) I’m confident, however, that Takahashi will deliver a satisfying finale. InuYasha gets kicked around a lot by manga cognescenti– “It’s not as good as Lum or Ranma or Maison Ikkoku,” they insist — but InuYasha represents Takahashi at the top of her game, not least for its terrific cast of characters. There are manga I like more than InuYasha, but there are few fictional characters — in comics, anyway — that have as strong a claim on my loyalty as InuYasha and Sango.

From Michelle: For me it’s a toss-up between Cross Game—the bittersweet first volume of which I truly loved—and the final volume of InuYasha, a series I’ve been following for years. Mitsuru Adachi versus Rumiko Takahashi… who will reign supreme? While I love both equally, I think in the end I’m also going to have to come down on the side of InuYasha. Like Kate, it’s the characters that have earned my loyalty here rather than ingenious plotting—indeed, the series is rather notoriously repetitive—but I am looking forward to the storyline actually coming to a point where the nefarious villain is finally unable to escape. Perhaps the best testament I can make in favor of this series is that, even though it’s 56 volumes long, I can still easily imagine the day when I will undertake a marathon reread and enjoy luxuriating in its comfy goodness.

Readers, what’s your Pick of the Week?

Tidbits: Four by Hinako Takanaga

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This installment of Tidbits is devoted to the BL stories of Hinako Takanaga! Today I’m focusing on some shorter works, but look for Little Butterfly and Challengers in future columns. A trio of one-shots is up first—A Capable Man, CROQUIS, and Liberty Liberty!—followed by the second volume of You Will Drown in Love. That series is still ongoing in Japan, where the third volume was released in July of last year. All are published in English by BLU Manga.

A Capable Man: C-
Looks are mighty deceiving with this one. Because the cover is bright and cute I expected a sweet one-volume romance, but what I got instead was a collection of short stories featuring unappealing characters.

Things got off to a bad start when, barely a dozen pages into the first story, “I Like Exceptional Guys,” a teenager forces himself onto his childhood friend. It’s a very disturbing scene, complete with a gag for the victim. Ugh. Afterwards, the attacker (Koji) cries and apologies and aw, gee, it’s so hard to be mad at someone who’s assaulted you when they obviously love you so much! Even Koji thinks it’s weird to be forgiven so quickly.

Another problematic story is “Something to Hide,” about a teacher who’s having an affair with his student. The student is about to graduate and wants them to move in together but the teacher has reservations. Is it because he’d be betraying the trust of his student’s parents, which he has worked hard to cultivate? Nope. It’s because he’s embarrassed about his unruly hair.

The collection is rounded out by “How to Satisfy Your Fetish,” about a trainee chef with a voice fetish who gets off on provoking disgusted reactions from his instructor, and “Kleptomaniac,” about a guy who compulsively steals objects that have been used by his crush. The latter is rather dull, but the kinky former could have been fun if I wasn’t already weary of “semi-sickos,” as Takanaga herself describes these characters.

CROQUIS: B
When Nagi Sasahara—a young man who works in drag at a gay bar and is saving up for gender-reassignment surgery—seeks to augment his income by modeling for an art class, he senses something different in the gaze of a student named Shinji Kaji. Ever since the age of ten, Nagi has fallen only for guys, so he’s both accepted his sexuality and become accustomed to rejection. Kaji surprises him by returning his feelings and the two become a couple, though the fact that they make it four months into their relationship without sleeping together causes Nagi to doubt whether Kaji is really okay with the fact that Nagi is male. Frequently comedic and happily short-lived angst ensues.

There are things to like and to dislike about CROQUIS. First off, I love that Nagi has known he was gay since childhood and that the story makes at least a passing reference to the existence of homophobia. I also like that he and Kaji interact essentially as equals, even though Kaji is underdeveloped and Nagi has a tendency to be high-maintenance. Where the story falters, though, is in its depiction of Nagi’s reasons for wanting to undergo surgery. Does he wish to become a woman because he feels like he’s trapped in a body of the wrong gender? Nope. He just thinks that’s the only way he’ll be able to score a boyfriend.

This volume also contains a one-shot about a pair of childhood friends and their conflicting opinions on the value of wishing upon stars and a pair of stories called “On My First Love.” The latter two are actually better than the title story, in my opinion, and tell the bittersweet tale of former classmates who had feelings for each other in the past but never managed to act on them. Now both have moved on with their lives while secretly nursing painful yet precious memories. I’m a sucker for sad stories like these, so it was a treat to discover them after the pleasant but not oustanding title story.

Libery Liberty!: B+
“In a corner of Osaka, one young man lies atop a heap of trash.” That unfortunate fellow is drunken twenty-year-old Itaru Yaichi who, in the course of being discovered by a cameraman on stakeout, breaks an expensive piece of equipment belonging to a local cable TV station and finds himself heavily in debt. The cameraman, Kouki Kuwabara, agrees to let Itaru stay at his place until he can find a job. In the meantime, Itaru helps out at the station and eventually reveals what circumstances led to his present predicament.

At first, Liberty Liberty! seems like it will be cute but utterly insubstantial love story, but the narrative offers many more complexities than I initially expected. For one, before anything romantic transpires between Itaru and Kouki, they first must become friends and do so by talking about their professional goals and setbacks. Kouki was a film student when he learned that nerve damage was impairing the sight in his left eye. He thought he was through but when a friend offered him a job at the TV station, he rediscovered his passion. Similarly, Itaru had a story concept stolen (and improved upon) by an upperclassman, so a crisis of confidence made him go on a leave of absence from school.

Gradually, by working at the station and witnessing Kouki’s example, Itaru takes the first steps towards writing again. He wants to become a person he can be proud of. His feelings for Kouki develop after this point, and his accidental confession results in a pretty amusing scene:

Again, their relationship evolves slowly, largely because Kouki has been alone for such a long time (and nursing some unrequited feelings for his cross-dressing friend, Kurumi) that it takes him a while to accept the possibilities of new love. I love that both characters are vulnerable and hesitant, and that Takanaga took the time to develop the friendship between them first before bringing them to the verge of something more. And “to the verge” it is, because the story ends before the boys have done more than smooch. As a result, Liberty Liberty! perfectly deserves its Young Adult rating and would probably be a hit in a library’s manga collection.

You Will Drown in Love 2: B-
Reiichiro Shudo and Kazushi Jinnai—both employed at a fabric store, where the younger Reiichiro is the boss and Jinnai his subordinate—have been dating for a while but Jinnai is feeling uneasy. He’s unsure whether Reiichiro really loves him or is just being compliant. When Kijima from headquarters arrives to help the store get ready for a trade show, he begins to put the moves on the oblivious Reiichiro, which sends Jinnai into a tizzy.

Even though this is written just about as well as the introduction of an aggressively sexual new love rival can be, it’s still a pretty tired plot device. In Takanaga’s hands, Kijima isn’t as over-the-top as he might otherwise have been, but he’s still more of a catalyst than a character in his own right. Scenes in which Jinnai freaks out become a bit repetitive, but once the twist comes—it’s Jinnai that Kijima is really after—it actually allows for a pretty satisfying ending.

No, the twist is not very dramatically surprising, and no, having competition doesn’t compel Reiichiro to boldly confess his love—that would be quite out of character—but it does prompt him to object to Jinnai getting close to any other man, which Jinnai happily accepts as proof at last of Reiichiro’s affections.

This may have been a somewhat disappointing volume, but I still like these characters and this setting so I’ll be back for volume three, whenever it makes its way over here.

Review copies for CROQUIS and Liberty Liberty! provided by the publisher.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season Eight 4 by Joss Whedon: B

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From the back cover:
Buffy Summers unlocked the power of the Slayer in hundreds of young women, but in the future only one Slayer remains. Melaka Fray—introduced by Buffy creator Joss Whedon and artist Karl Moline in 2001—returns to comics in Season Eight of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

When Buffy attempts to solve the mystery of her scythe, she’s propelled into the future, and into the path of Fray. In order to save their worlds, the two Slayers must fight against a threat more powerful than the two of them combined, while back in the twenty-first century, the Scottish Slayer base falls prey to a mystical bomb courtesy of the Biggest Bad—Twilight.

Review:
It’s been a long time since I reviewed any of the Season Eight comics. I’ve been keeping up with the individual issues, but just haven’t felt inclined to reread them when the collected editions come out. I still haven’t liked any arc as much as Brian K. Vaughan’s “No Future for You” (issues 6-10), and somewhere along the way things have gotten so ridiculous that I just refuse to admit/believe that any of these events can be considered canon. Season Eight will be ending soon—the fortieth and final issue is due on January 19 (Buffy’s birthday)—so it seems like a good time to get caught up with reviews and potentially air a few gripes.

Volume four collects issues 16-20 of the series, comprising the Whedon-penned arc “Time of Your Life” as well as Jeph Loeb’s one-shot, “After These Messages… We’ll Be Right Back!” And, actually, this arc is pretty good. Warning: spoilers ahead!

Following up on a message she received while in Japan, Willow concludes that she and Buffy need to go to New York because of some timey-wimey ripple of a future event that’s going to occur there. Once they arrive, a portal opens, sending Buffy two hundred years into the future (and leaving a slavering beastie in her place), into the path of a Slayer named Melaka Fray. Fray, some may remember, once had a comic series of her own and fans were curious how Fray’s future (where there’s only one Slayer) would tie in with the series’ continuity, in which Buffy essentially activates all the potential Slayers in the world.

Fray’s main foe is her twin brother, Harth. A vampire, he’s got tons of minions and has recently been linked to a dark-haired madwoman who speaks in riddles. One assumes this is hinting at Drusilla, but it’s actually Dark Willow, still alive and planning something unspecific with Harth. Stuff happens—my favorite bits demonstrate how the two Slayers approach their job differently—but the basic gist is that present-day Willow reopens the portal and Buffy is determined to go back to her own time, even if it means that Fray and her future will cease to exist. When Dark Willow blocks her way, Buffy stabs her with the scythe.

Now, this is pretty interesting and reads much better when collected all together than as single issues. My major problem with it, though, is that I have no idea what Willow’s motivation was. Why was she working with Harth? What was she helping him to achieve? Vampire dominion over earth? Why would she do that? If I had to guess I’d say that maybe she wanted the future to look as shitty as possible so that Buffy would be determined not to let things turn out like that. But the final page of the arc shows that Melaka and her version of the future didn’t disappear at all. It’s quite a sad end for Willow, all alone and dead on some dingy futuristic rooftop.

Coming off the end of this arc is the fluffy but fun “After These Messages,” in which Buffy has a dream in the style of the cartoon series version of the show that never panned out. It takes place during high school, so Joyce is there, and reminds Buffy of how simple her life used to be. It’s not just a throwaway piece, though, as Buffy gets some advice from Dream Angel that convinces her that she shouldn’t tell Willow about what happened in the future.

If I recall rightly, this is the last arc that I enjoyed, but we shall see. It could be that the others will also fare much better when read back-to-back instead of in monthly installments. Stay tuned!

Off the Shelf: Soap, Shoujo, & Samurai

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Welcome to Off the Shelf with MJ & Michelle, and our first column of the New Year! I’m joined, as always, by Soliloquy in Blue‘s Michelle Smith.

This week, I catch up on some favorites from Yen Press and Viz Media, while Michelle shares a look at a unique “how-to” offering from Tokyopop.

MICHELLE: Hey, MJ? Why were the little strawberries upset?

MJ: I dunno, why?

MICHELLE: ‘Cos they were in a jam!

MJ: Ba-dum-dum *chick*

MICHELLE: Thank you! I’ll be here all week. Tip your waitress.

Before you advise me not to quit my day job, perhaps I should make with the business at hand and inquire as to what you’ve been reading this week!

MJ: I spent the week catching up on new volumes of both a new favorite and an old one. I’ll start with the old one, which would be Park SoHee’s gloriously soapy manhwa, Goong. And I have to say, now that Yen Press has been releasing these in omnibus format, the series is more addictive than ever. Despite its soap-opera leanings, Goong moves at a brisk pace, so it reads very well in two-volume chunks.

Volume ten (consolidated from Korean volumes 11 & 12) begins with Chae-Kyung throwing both herself and her husband to the palace wolves by revealing the truth about their marriage in a live television interview. Incredibly, things only ramp up further from there to the end, making this one of the most dramatic volumes of the series so far.

What I admire most about Park SoHee, aside from her detailed, expressive artwork, is her ability to create well-rounded, morally ambiguous characters in both the “hero” and “villain” camps (particularly with the younger characters), displaying all their weaknesses, refusing to make clear distinctions between them, and yet still creating real biases and allegiances in the hearts of her readers.

Take Hyo-Rin for example. She’s certainly at odds with our heroine, Chae-Kyung, but she’s pretty well-balanced, overall. She’s equal parts “bitch” and “misunderstood victim,” and Park gives significant page time to both. As a reasonable adult, it’s clear to me that she’s just a regular teen girl stuck in a situation just as unfortunate and as unfair as Chae-Kyung’s. Yet I believe Park intends for me to really hate Hyo-Rin. Why? Because I do. I really, really do. Despite the fact that it’s incredibly juvenile of me to do so, I genuinely hate her and have, at times, wished ill upon her.

Writing a villain like a villain may not sound particularly noteworthy, but what’s brilliant about what Park does is the way she’s able to create the illusion of black and white using only shades of gray. It’s what keeps this series crisp and compelling, despite its soapy consistency. I’m impressed by it every time.

MICHELLE: The bit about you wishing ill upon Hyo-Rin literally made me crack up. Well done! And man, you have certainly stoked the flames of my love for Goong. I’ve been hoarding the past several releases with the intention of reading them soon, but now I’m tempted to reread from the beginning first the better to wallow in the melodramatic goodness that is this cracktastic series.

MJ: This volume is just about as melodramatic and as good as it could possibly be, and if you aren’t wishing ill upon Hyo-Rin right along with me by the end, I’ll eat my hat. :D

MICHELLE: No one ever goes through with that promise.

MJ: Well, I might not either. It’s a wool hat. Terrible texture. But never mind that! What have you been reading this week?

MICHELLE: My pick for the week is not actually manga, but is very much about manga. I read How to Draw Shojo Manga, by the Editors of Hakusensha’s shojo magazines. The title is a bit unfortunate, because it might lull one into thinking this is simply a book about drawing, when that isn’t the case at all.

What it is is a very thorough introduction to the entire (incredibly time-consuming) process of creating manga, with specific advice and examples. I’m not talking simply “use this kind of nib for thin lines” but in-depth instruction on topics like creating outlines and storyboards, panel arrangement, the proper order for inking, using digital tools, and even how to deal with criticism. This can sometimes get quite specific, like, “It’s effective to have a panel that draws the eye to the top of the left page.”

Throughout, readers follow Ena, an aspiring manga-ka, as she creates an outline for a 16-page submission to a short story contest, moves on to the storyboard phase, and finally submits her finished product for criticism from two of Hakusensha’s editors. Obviously, the parts of this book dealing with submitting one’s story for consideration aren’t really applicable to American would-be manga-ka—unless they are fluent in Japanese, one supposes—so it’s unlikely that the claim “Follow along with us, work hard, and you will find yourself transformed into a professional shojo manga artist” will ever come to fruition. I wonder how often a book like this has actually produced success in Japan.

That said, even a casual manga fan would find this book illuminating. For a reviewer, particularly ones like us who are trying to improve our skills in artistic criticism, I’d go so far as to call it positively indispensable. There’s so much practical advice about what a manga-ka should be—and theoretically is—striving for in his/her work that I found it quite a fascinating read.

MJ: I have a copy of this as well, and while I haven’t read it in-depth, I was immediately struck by how different it is from the lame, obviously western takes on “shojo manga” we’ve seen in so many how-to books. It’s honestly the first one I’ve ever been sent that I had any interest at all in reading after doing a quick flip-through, and that includes all the ones I’ve actually read. Heh.

Though I expect you’re right–not too many American artists are going to be submitting their work for publication in Japan–was any of the submission advice general enough to be useful for western artists submitting their work to OEL publishers?

MICHELLE: Indeed, there is nothing lame about this book at all. And absolutely, the advice would completely apply to OEL creators. From the aspects of the craft itself to how to solicit criticism—instead of asking a friend whether they liked your work, instead ask if they understood it, for example—it’s completely applicable for western artists!

MJ: Now I feel even more inspired to read this!

MICHELLE: Any time I like something, I always think that you should read it, but this time I really, really mean it. I think you’ll learn a lot. I did.

Anyways, enough gushing. You hinted earlier at a new favorite. Which one might that be?

MJ: Ah yes, well, the new volume of a new favorite is volume two of Natsume Ono’s House of Five Leaves, one of my favorite debut series last year. As you may recall, I read volume one pretty much on a whim via the SigIKKI website, during a week in which I had little access to physical books. It’s going to be real books all the way for Five Leaves from now on, though. This series is definitely a keeper.

As this volume opens, Masa falls ill, which forces him to retire to the country under the care of Goinkyo, a friend of the Five Leaves gang. With Masa separated from Five Leaves’ leader Yaichi for most of the volume, the story takes on a dreamy, disjointed feel, emphasizing how important Masa’s admiration of Yaichi has become to his sense of purpose–perhaps even his sense of self. At Goinkyo’s, Masa is encouraged to discontinue his association with the Five Leaves, but thanks to Yaichi’s influence, it’s clear by the end of the volume that Masa’s not going anywhere.

This series continues to be very much in tune with my personal sensibilities, which is obviously a major selling point for me. Masa’s layers of quiet turmoil, the story’s moral ambiguity, and Ono’s distinctive, melancholy artwork are all perfectly constructed for my enjoyment. Though this volume has a distinctly plodding feel, this has the effect of placing the reader in Masa’s convalescent headspace–part boredom, part relief, and tinged with some undetermined amount of separation anxiety. The volume’s a bit sleepy but never dull, and the last few pages are genuinely riveting.

I suspect a series that relies so heavily on prolonged character study may not be to everyone’s taste, but it’s certainly a great fit for mine. And I’m expecting the emotional payoff to be pretty big as Masa submerges himself further into the world of the Five Leaves.

MICHELLE: I’ve really been looking forward to reading this second volume after I, too, loved the first very much. With his personality, Masa could so easily be irritating if handled poorly, but Ono renders him with incredible sympathy. He is ill-equipped to resist Yaichi and his charms and is actually kind of adorable in how he gets swept up in it all.

MJ: I absolutely adore Masa, and I agree that might well not be the case were he in another author’s hands. As it is, though, he’s a character I always want to know more about. I think I actually find him more interesting than any of the mysterious criminals around him. He’s really a unique protagonist.

MICHELLE: Definitely. You know, your picks this week remind me how much thoroughly awesome manga and manhwa we have in English these days. Granted, I could easily rattle off a dozen series I’d love to see licensed, but we’ve got it good.

MJ: You’re absolutely right. It’s a great time to be a fan, no matter how you look at it.

MICHELLE: Which reminds me, Deb Aoki at About.com put together this thoroughly awesome gallery of the new series debuting here in 2011. I bookmarked it, and thought maybe others might find it useful as well.

MJ: Great call, Michelle! Way to start the New Year off right!

MICHELLE: I guess this just goes to show that I can never simply appreciate what we’ve got, but must always pine for more, but I’m looking forward to quite a lot on that list and that’s a fun place to be as a fan.

MJ: I’ll drink to that.

Happy New Year from Off the Shelf!

Natsume, Kurozakuro, Panda, Prince

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With the addition of new authors to the Manga Bookshelf family of blogs, it seemed like the right time to refresh this weekly feature with more diversity of opinion. To that end, both Kate and David will now be joining in offer up their weekly Picks. And as a bonus, we have a Pick from Soliloquy in Blue‘s Michelle Smith. So take your pick of the Picks below or stretch your pocketbook and pick up all four!

From MJ: There isn’t a lot of excitement to be found for me in this week’s batch of incoming manga, though there are a couple of bright spots. A new volume of Sand Chronicles is always welcome, of course, but my eye is especially drawn to volume five of Natsume’s Book of Friends, one of my favorite new shoujo series last year. I got a bit bogged down with it during volume three, but here’s a snippet from my thoughts on volume four: “The volume begins on a strong note, by introducing a troubled yokai who ends up inhabiting the body of a snow bunny (not the kind found on ski slopes, but in children’s back yards) in order to try to reunite with his one-time companion who had been driven to the dark side by the cruelty of humanity. While that concept sounds at once unbearably cutesy and melodramatic, its execution is anything but. It’s subtle and moving, and in that moment, the series won me back completely.”

The emotional content of this series has really refined itself beautifully over the course of its run so far, and I’m really looking forward to picking up the this week’s volume.

From David: I missed the first volume of this series, and I have no idea if it’s particularly good or not, but I was very struck by the style of the covers of Kurozakuro (Viz), written and illustrated by Yoshinori Natsume. I tend not to be a big shounen fan, but I’ve done pretty well with the titles in Viz’s Shonen Sunday imprint. This one is about a boy who finds that he’s turning into an ogre and wants to eat people, which isn’t your standard young-man-with-a-dream problem. The preview on the Shonen Sunday site looks kind of promising, particularly in terms of the style of the illustrations.

From Kate: I’m going to put on my Good Comics for Kids hat and champion Panda Man and the Treasure Hunt, the second installment of a new graphic novel/activity book/chapter book series from VIZ Kids. The first volume of Panda Man was perfect for seven- or eight-year-olds: it had stylish artwork, plenty of slapstick, and enough bathroom humor to satisfy the most discerning fart joke connoisseur. Oh, and mazes, connect-the-dot exercises, and drawing tips, making it a great choice for keeping kids busy on a car ride or a plane trip. The second volume finds Panda Man going mano-a-mano with pirates in search of treasure. I’m guessing the plot may be a little disjointed — the first volume was more a collection of gags than a story — but I can’t imagine it will be anything less than entertaining. Even an adult can appreciate a hero whose primary weapons are smelly feet and an overactive GI tract; as someone who rode the NYC subway for years, I can attest to the awesome, crippling power of stinky toes!

From Michelle: For me, the automatic purchase this week is volume 40 of Takeshi Konomi’s The Prince of Tennis. I recently completed a marathon read to get current on the series, and though many ridiculous elements offer themselves up as reasons for mockery—chief among them Konomi’s decision to depict the pinnacle of tennis achievement with glowing auras and sparkles (both visible to spectators)—I would never for a moment dream of giving up on it before its completion, even though the product description warns me to expect “a wicked case of amnesia” in this latest volume. That’s my Prince of Tennis: incredibly silly and yet so irresistible.

So, readers, what’s your Pick this week?

Tidbits: Sports Manga for the Win!

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Welcome to another installment of Tidbits! This time I turn my attention to sports manga, a genre for which I nurture an inexplicable adoration. First up is Crimson Hero, a shoujo tale that attempts to balance volleyball and romance, followed by six early volumes of Eyeshield 21 and four later ones from The Prince of Tennis, in which the Seishun Academy tennis team finally makes it to the semifinals of Nationals.

Crimson Hero 14 by Mitsuba Takanashi: B
I’m not entirely sure it’s accurate to classify Crimson Hero as sports manga. Ostensibly, it’s about Nobara Sumiyoshi and the rest of the girls on the volleyball team at Crimson High as they pursue their goal of winning the Spring Tournament. In reality, there are only a dozen pages of volleyball in this volume, and only half of those feature the girls.

When last we left off, Haibuki, one of the aces on the guys’ team, had run off because he learned that Nobara was secretly going out with his teammate, Yushin. Also, some other guy named Kaz was spreading rumors about Nobara that caused her to break up with Yushin. It was really a mess, which I ranted about in more detail here.

Thankfully, Takanashi almost immediately addresses all of the things I found so annoying! Kaz abruptly apologizes and disappears. It was totally random, but whatever; I’m glad he’s gone. Yushin and Nobara discover where Haibuki is and both implore him to return. When Yushin goes to great lengths to win Haibuki back from another school that’s been attempting to recruit him, Haibuki realizes that Yushin kept his relationship with Nobara a secret only because he thought it would be best for the team and finally stops being a petulant brat. Hooray!

Though I mock some of the emotional moments in this volume, the truth is that when done well, it’s honestly very entertaining. It’s not the most original story in the world—earnest but academically challenged girl is sought after by two boys with contrasting personalities—but I like it. I still wish they would just play some volleyball already, though.

Eyeshield 21 4-9 by Riichiro Inagaki and Yusuke Murata: B
In addition to his fearsome talent for gathering information and blackmailing others to get his way, Hiruma, the demonic captain of the Deimon Devil Bats football team, also excels at motivation and promotion. It’s through his efforts that a crowd of Deimon students turns out to watch the Devil Bats defeat the Zokugaku Chameleons, which in turn leads to a record turnout at the next recruitment meeting.

A handful of new players joins the team, including the absolutely adorable Komusubi, who looks like a muppet and idolizes Kurita, and the Devil Bats proceed to a tie game against their next opponent, which earns them a spot in a televised face-off against a visiting American team. A summer training trip to America soon follows, with the all-important fall tournament season only a few weeks away.

At this point, Eyeshield 21 is following the sports manga formula pretty closely: the team gets better, important positions are filled, and everyone tries hard to get stronger as they face increasingly more formidable opponents. Just because it’s formulaic, though, doesn’t make it any less good. There’s a certain amount of satisfaction to be derived from watching someone earnestly work hard to achieve their goals, and even if much of what happens in this series is completely over-the-top, it’s still a fun read.

My favorite aspect of the story, though, is how those with less inate talent are not forgotten. This is best exemplified by what’s going on with “The Hah?! Brothers.” These three thugs were originally blackmailed into playing by Hiruma, but have gradually become genuinely invested in the team’s goals. Jumonji, their leader, was particularly upset to see his friends’ contributions belittled in an article, and works hard to help them improve themselves. I’m not sure why, but I find the idea of a former delinquent finally finding something to care about and strive for really moving. A scene in which the crowd cheers them for the first time actually made me teary-eyed!

Now if only there were fewer poop jokes…

The Prince of Tennis 36-39 by Takeshi Konomi: C+
When one is a long-time fan of The Prince of Tennis, as I am, one becomes accustomed to and can forgive a lot of the ridiculousness that goes on in the series. For example, it’s a given now that characters will be introduced who are supposed to be in junior high, even though they look thirty, and who have at their disposal an arsenal of highly improbable shots with silly names like “Super Ultra Delicious Swinging Mountain Storm.” Sets will also almost always end at 7-6, after a grueling tie-break, and characters frequently are one point away from defeat when they suddenly “evolve” and rally valiantly. It’s repetitive, but hey, how much variation can one really expect?

For the National Tournament, mangaka Takeshi Konomi kicks things up a notch with the introduction of a technique so eyeroll-inducing that even I can’t refrain from snerking. It’s called “the selfless state,” and manifests as a glowing aura that spectactors can detect instantly. “There it is!!” cries the peanut gallery, “The selfess state!!” It enables the player to instinctively recreate any opponent’s move that he’s ever seen, which results in even more shouting from the sidelines as familiar shots are recognized by the crowd. Our hero Ryoma Echizen can do it, naturally, but he’s been doing so for ten volumes or so now so it’s time to tweak it still further.

Volumes 36 through 39 of the series focus on Seishun’s semifinal match-up against a school from Osaka called Shitenhoji. After Fuji loses the first singles match, Seishun retaliates with a doubles victory followed by a singles win via forfeit. If they win the next doubles match, they’re going to the finals. Enter Seishun’s captain, Kunimitsu Tezuka, who not only can achieve the selfless state, but a special variation thereof called “the pinnacle of mastery.” Not to be outdone, Shitenhoji puts up Senri Chitose, whose ability to access “the pinnacle of brilliance” makes him go all sparkly.

Stoic Tezuka is my favorite character, so I don’t begrudge him the opportunity to be a badass, particularly since he missed most of the Kanto Tournament due to injury, but there’s only so much ridiculousness I can take. I mean, there’s one two-page spread where these guys just stand there and glow at one another! Tezuka ultimately wins, of course. After a brief interlude provided by a yakiniku eating contest, the finals begin, but Ryoma is nowhere to be found and Tezuka seems poised to reinjure himself in pursuit of victory.

These volumes make me sigh heavily. And yet… for all my complaining, I will eagerly buy the last three volumes of the series and be bummed out if the sequel isn’t licensed soon.

Review copy for volume 39 of The Prince of Tennis provided by the publisher.

Off the Shelf: First reads, second chances

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Welcome to another edition of Off the Shelf with MJ & Michelle! I’m joined, as always, by Soliloquy in Blue‘s Michelle Smith.

We’ve got another Tokyopop debut series to look at this week, and a mix of debuts and continuing series from Yen Press and Viz Media as well.

MJ: I like fruitcake.

MICHELLE: You have my deepest condolences.

MJ: Hater.

MICHELLE: I tend to generally not like bread-like items with things in them. That said, I was a kid the last time I tried it so would give it another chance.

Can you say the same about the manga you read this week?

MJ: Hmmmm, well, not quite. Or, I should say, “not necessary.” But I’m guessing you can?

MICHELLE: More like a “probably not” and a “this one was on its third chance already” kind of thing. :) But first, the former!

I really wanted to like AiON, TOKYOPOP’s new series by Yuna Kagesaki, the creator of Chibi Vampire. The cover is pretty attractive, after all (if you can get past the moe factor), and shows off the publisher’s snazzy new trim dress. Plus, the back cover blurb starts with six tantalizing words I never expected to see strung together in this order: “Mermaids and mind-controlling parasites wage war…”

Unfortunately, despite the cracktastic potential suggested by that phrase, the story as presented in the first volume is exceedingly dull. Wealthy Tatsuya Tsugawa has lost both his parents the week before, and yet seems largely unaffected by this aside from trying to live up to his dying father’s wish that he become a great man. This compels him to intervene when he notices a classmate, Miyazaki, being bullied. She tells him several times that she wants the bullying to continue, but he can’t leave her alone and eventually learns that she was purposely antagonizing the bully the better to extract a parasite that was infecting her.

Perhaps the story doesn’t seem so boring in summary form, but it really, really is. I lay most of the blame at the feet of Tsugawa, who is just so utterly generic that the only thing remarkable about him is the extent of his blandness. At the halfway point, when he questions why Miyazaki’s opinion matters to him and wonders if this means that he likes her, I quite literally set the book aside and had a brief nap. That’s how believable and meaningful the scene was.

Tsugawa and Miyazaki interact a few more times, with the inevitable result that she winds up moving in with him. Love and parasites will surely ensue, but man, I can’t imagine sitting through a second volume.

MJ: I’ll admit the story doesn’t sound *so* boring in summary form, but your nap anecdote is difficult to ignore. Also, where are the mermaids?

MICHELLE: An excellent question! I don’t recall a single mention of them. More vividly, I recall the half dozen grammar errors that plague the text. All in all, it’s not a very auspicious debut.

Did you fare better with your picks this week?

MJ: I did, particularly with my first selection, which I found quite charming. This week, I finally got around to picking up Julietta Suzuki’s Kamisama Kiss, a supernatural romantic comedy from Viz’s Shojo Beat imprint.

Like AION, this series begins with its protagonist, Nanami, being essentially orphaned, though in this case our teenaged heroine’s father has not actually died but skipped town to avoid his gambling debts, leaving his daughter to face the collectors all alone. Once she’s been evicted from her apartment, Nanami ends up in the park where she meets a strange man who offers her his home if she’ll take over his job. Before she knows what’s happening, he’s sent her on her way, but when Nanami reaches the home that’s been promised her, it turns out to be a shrine–of which she’s just been made god!

An argument could be made that this premise sounds much less interesting than AION‘s as you’ve described it, but fortunately this one is well-executed and genuinely fun.

Nanami’s cut from pretty standard shoujo cloth–a spunky young woman with no obvious talent aside from her determined optimism, but she’s got a great foil in the form of Tomoe, a fox (the supernatural kind, though the other kind too) who served the shrine’s former kami and who is beyond dismayed to find himself bound to someone like Nanami. Tomoe is catty and cynical but excellent at his job, and watching him work and argue with Nanami is the source of most of this volume’s charm.

What I especially appreciate about this series, is that regardless of Tomoe’s tremendous superiority complex, he’s far too lazy to be controlling like so many shoujo love interests, and even his surliness is kept staunchly at bay thanks to Nanami’s power of kotodama, which forces him to do her bidding whether he wants to or not. In a way, Kamisama Kiss is everything that Black Bird could have been if not for its heavy misogynist overtones. Like Misao, Nanami’s surrounded by yokai who would just as soon eat her if they had the chance, but unlike Misao, Nanami has agency, and that makes all the difference in the world.

MICHELLE: It’s interesting that you mention Black Bird, because I did the same in my recent review of Kamisama Kiss, though mine was more in the context of being worried about some of Tomoe’s comments as contrasted by his kindliness. You’re right about the kotodama giving Nanami an advantage, though—actually, this combined with Tomoe’s white ears puts me in mind of Kagome’s ability to compel InuYasha‘s titular hero to “Sit!”—so perhaps I oughtn’t be so concerned.

MJ: It’s interesting to me that you had that concern, because this series didn’t ping me that way at all, and not just because of Nanami’s kotodama. Tomoe may be surly and condescending, but he’s expressed zero sexual interest in Nanami so far, and he thankfully lacks Kyo’s predatory lust and possessiveness, which is what makes Kyo so controlling and repulsive. Tomoe’s neither as clingy nor as abusive as Kyo, and though it seems clear that Tomoe and Nanami are being set up for romance, I feel like they’re starting on even ground, thanks to their individual strengths and weaknesses.

MICHELLE: Yeah, you’re right. And it wasn’t so much that I thought there relationship was like the one in Black Bird, but more that it made me think of Black Bird, which is usually not a good sign! :)

MJ: Yeah, I can relate to that. :D

So what else have you been reading this week?

MICHELLE: You’ll be pleased to hear that the series to which I gave a third chance is Nabari No Ou! It’s very rare that you and I should disagree about a series, but it happened with this tale of a reluctant ninja. I found the first two volumes to be mighty boring, but I’m happy to report that things pick up a lot in volume three and stay pretty interesting through volume five!

The basic gist of the plot is that a middle schooler named Miharu Rokujou is inhabited by an immense power known as the “Shinra Banshou,” and two factions of ninja clans are fighting over him. Both are after a set of five scrolls containing the “secret arts” of the various ninja clans, though one group thinks they can use these scrolls to dispel Shinra Banshou while the other seeks to activate it. In volume three, Miharu and his protectors (they of the “dispel” camp) accept a job to assassinate a scientist in exchange for one such scroll, which leads Miharu’s protector Kumohira-sensei to question his convictions and ultimately, to a chilling culmination of the assignment. Volumes four and five deal primarily with the backstory for one of the characters’ brothers, and manage to sustain much of the momentum gained in volume three.

Don’t get me wrong, I still yawn when reading about the squabbling clans or the all-powerful scrolls, but the characters and their relationships are what have piqued my interest at last. Largely this is facilitated by the head of a rival clan—the one who hired them for the assassination job—who possesses the ability to read minds and threatens to reveal everyone’s “grave secrets.” This gets everyone suspicious of one another, with some pretty dramatic results. I’m most interested in the dynamic between Miharu and Kumohira, because the latter seeks to obtain the former’s trust while revealing as little as possible about what he remembers of some cataclysmic past event, but I also quite like scenes between Miharu and Yoite, another young man who should be Miharu’s enemy but for whom he seems willing to do just about anything. I’m sure there is loads of fanfic written about these two.

Anyway, I am finally on board the Nabari train.

MJ: I am very pleased to hear this! I feel like this series has been the skeleton in the closet of our friendship! Or something like that.

I agree that it’s the relationships that really make this series come alive, though I liked them earlier on than you did. Or maybe I just liked Miharu so much, I felt more patient about the rest. He’s the kind of enigma I enjoy most. I haven’t fully dug in to volume five yet, but now I’m really looking forward to it.

I feel like I should have many smart questions to ask you, now that you’ve read further into the series, but I find I mainly just agree, particularly on your feelings about where the most interesting relationship drama currently resides.

MICHELLE: I found Miharu petulant at first, but once the mind-reader arrived and saw that his indifference is just a front, I found him more appealing. I must say, it is somewhat of a relief for us to be on the same page at last! :)

What else have you been reading this week?

MJ: I’m a bit tardy on this one, but I’ve just finished the second volume of Shunjo Aono’s I’ll Give It My All… Tomorrow from Viz’s SigIKKI line.

I enjoyed the first volume of this series, but my greatest concern at the time was that the series might quickly become unreadable if something didn’t change for its painfully lost protagonist. Fortunately, that pitfall has not yet come to pass, though not for the reasons one might imagine.

The second volume finds Shizuo still plugging along in his half-hearted, humiliating way, creating bad manga that may never be accepted for publication, imagining romantic interest from a woman who is merely kind to him, and imposing on the few people who inexplicably care for him, including his daughter and his younger friend, Shuichi. A bit of backstory helps to put his stunted personality in perspective, but it’s truly agonizing to watch him fumble through life, especially should one catch a glimpse of oneself in Shizuo’s plight, which, believe you me, is uncomfortably easy for many of us to do.

What really saves this volume, however, is that it miraculously develops a hero, and that hero is, surprisingly, Shuichi. Here’s a quiet, pretty much expressionless guy, who manages somehow in the least likely arena to display the kind of compassion and fearlessness one might expect from a shounen battle hero. I won’t spoil you by telling you what happens, but I will say that I actually cheered audibly at one point in this volume. Being a melancholy seinen comedy, Shuichi’s heroism doesn’t get him much but a messed up face and the loss of his job, but it’s still a damn good read.

Of course, Shuichi isn’t actually the hero of this manga, and even now I find myself wondering how long the story’s premise can last without becoming too depressing to bear. But Aono’s won my confidence enough to compel me towards volume three, and that’s no small feat.

MICHELLE: I haven’t even been able to work up the desire to give this series a first chance, much less a second or third. It just sounds so… horribly frustrating and bound to leave the reader depressed. Maybe it’s shallow of me, but I’d much rather read something utterly frivolous.

MJ: It’s not necessarily an easy read, that’s for sure, though it is genuinely a comedy. It’s not self-consciously dark.

MICHELLE: Yeah, but I have a history of finding unfunny series that others find very amusing, like Detroit Metal City. I think I’ll continue to stay away from this one.

MJ: Probably a good call. Though I hope you’ll give fruitcake another try someday. ;)

MICHELLE: It might take some time to muster up the nerve.

MJ: So it’s often been said.

MICHELLE: Many times, many ways?

MJ: “Merry fruitcake… to yoooooou.”

MICHELLE: *pachi pachi*

Many thanks to Michelle for indulging me in 22 installments of this feature since we first began back in August! Join us again in the new year for an all new Off the Shelf!

Chi’s Sweet Home 4 by Konami Kanata: B+

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From the back cover:
Welcome to the neighborhood, Chi and family! Now in her new residence, Chi will be introduced to many friends of the furry and feathery kind. With so many fresh smells to investigate, endless adventures await. So settle in, because here pets will never be chased… unless they are chasing each other.

Review:
Chi’s Sweet Home is one of those series that goes to the top of the to-read pile whenever a new volume is released. It’s always a true pleasure to read, with colorful cuteness guaranteed on every page.

This volume focuses mostly on the Yamada family’s move to a new, pet-friendly apartment complex and Chi’s reactions to her new environment. I love that so much time is devoted to her acclimation, and how familiar smells gradually embolden her enough to rub herself all over all the new stuff and proclaim it to be hers, too. She also meets a few animals at the new place, though more of her interactions so far have been with a gregarious (but well-trained) dog named David than with snooty long-haired kitty, Alice.

As usual, mangaka Konami Kanata perfectly captures several moments that ought to be familiar to cat owners: the pitiful mewling and pawing at a door that separates the kitty from its people, the inability to fathom what a scratching post is for, and the perils of claw trimming. In fact, I think this last was actually understated; I’ve had cats practically all my life and I still feel unqualified to attempt this task!

It’s not all cuteness, though. Chi’s Sweet Home has occasionally had some bittersweet moments—early volumes contrasted Chi’s cozy new home to her fading memories of her mother and siblings—and this volume is no exception. It’s sad to see how much confusion human-induced change causes to poor Chi and how baffled she is by her friend Blackie’s abrupt departure. I don’t know whether to hope and/or expect that a reunion will be forthcoming or to admire this slightly darker streak in the story.

We’re getting close to being caught up with the series in Japan. The fifth volume is due in February and then, after being spoiled on a bimonthly release schedule, we will suddenly be called upon to wait much longer for our Chi fix. I guess we could always turn to Crunchyroll for solace.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

BL Bookrack: December

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Welcome to 2010’s final installment of BL Bookrack, a monthly feature co-written with Soliloquy in Blue‘s Michelle Smith.

This month, we take a look at four one-shots from Digital Manga Publishing’s Juné imprint, Intriguing Secrets, The Object of My Affection, A Place in the Sun, and Temperature Rising.

Intriguing Secrets | By Rize Shinba | Published by Juné | Rated YA (16+) | Buy at Akadot – After an accidental collision with a teacher in the hallway, high school student Mizue is sentenced to weed the school’s overgrown yard alongside his classmate Umehara, known to be the “class clown.” Umehara’s also been the center of some ugly classroom gossip, so Mizue is surprised to discover that he’s actually a pretty nice guy. He’s even more surprised to find himself drawn to Umehara in a vaguely romantic way, something of which he becomes immediately ashamed. When Umehara seeks him out in the art club room and asks him to paint his portrait, Mizue begins to wonder if his new friend might feel the same way, but every potential advance by Umehara is followed by a joke. Could Umehara’s teasing be a cover for something more?

Admittedly, it would be difficult to think of a more generic BL premise than the one just described. But if the worst that can be said about Intriguing Secret is that it’s unremarkable, that’s also its greatest strength. With its quietly mundane atmosphere, this manga promises love in the most ordinary places. Even its leads are an example of this message. Sure, Mizue seems to have some artistic talent, and Umehara is able to charm his classmates with a joke, but the two are so resoundingly noncommittal to who they are as people, it’s difficult to know what, if anything, they actually value. Mizue is reluctant to even say that he “likes” painting, while Umehara shrugs off everyone with a nearly audible “whatever.” Yet somehow, over the course of the series, they learn to be certain of each other, at the very least.

Though it may seem like I’m not making much of a point in the series’ favor, this practiced indifference is what actually makes the story work. With so little to build itself around, really nothing exists here but the romance itself, and this romance is undeniably sweet, from start to finish. Rize Shinba’s artwork is nearly as nondescript as her characters’ ambitions, yet, like everything else in this story, there is a quiet sweetness about it that holds everything together, as long as nobody’s trying to dig too deep.

Like a gauzy fabric on a warm summer day, Intriguing Secrets is comfortable and pretty, if not quite substantive.

-Review by MJ

The Object of My Affection | By Nanao Okuda | Published by Juné | Rated YA (16+) | Buy at Akadot – Sometimes it’s not such a bad idea to judge a book by its cover. I knew nothing about The Object of My Affection or its creator, Nanao Okuda, but found the art style so appealing that I had to check it out. I’m very glad I did, because Okuda spurns typical yaoi characterizations, instead creating some sympathetic and emotionally accessible characters.

Back in high school, shrimpy Hiroki Wakamiya was dazzled by the athleticism of Wataru Anzai, a player on a rival school’s basketball team. He promised to catch up to him, and by the time college rolls around, he has improved (and grown) enough that he is recruited by the school Anzai plays for. His hopes of competing directly against his hero are dashed, however, when it’s revealed that Anzai has a busted knee and can no longer play.

Wakamiya is disappointed, but still finds himself drawn to Anzai, especially for his “inner strength contrary to the image given by his slender physical frame.” Anzai doesn’t like to show his vulnerability to anyone, but finds himself able to trust the honest and forthright Wakamiya. Though confessions of love are a little abrupt, their relationship unfolds at a believable pace, with Anzai taking on the role of encouraging coach as Wakamiya competes for a starting position on the team. I love that Okuda is much more concerned with depicting what these guys mean to each other than what they do in the bedroom.

Unfortunately, only the first four stories in this volume are about Wakamiya and Anzai. The rest focus on other players on the team and, though all are good and feature a head-over-heels seme in love with a guy who is elusive in some way, they lack the feeling of mutual need that makes the featured couple so compelling. Still, I enjoyed this title enough that a copy of Okuda’s only other English release—Honey/Chocolate—is now on its way to my front door.

-Review by Michelle Smith

A Place in the Sun | By Lala Takemiya | Published by Juné | Rated YA (16+) | Buy at Akadot – “The things we could do if only we had more freedom,” muses Shu Tonosawa, one of the lead characters in the title story of A Place in the Sun, a collection of quirky tales by Lala Takemiya. Although Tonosawa is the only character to state this aloud, it’s actually a theme Takemiya plays with in several of the stories.

“Topping Boys” features a pair of long-time friends now in culinary school together. Yusuke, the more serious and talented of the two, compares his friend Hirosue to pasta, because he’s compatible with just about anything. To him, Hirosue’s seemingly endless string of short-term relationships is due to his propensity to fall in love too easily. In fact, the only person Hirosue really loves is Yusuke, but because he thinks all relationships are doomed to end, he’s not willing to destroy what they have.

“Afraid to Love” takes a similar approach, with one guy unwilling to admit his feelings to his friend because he’s afraid boredom will ultimately result. “A Place in the Sun” isn’t as overt with the characters’ emotions, but one definitely gets the sense that Tonosawa would be happy simply to bask in the radiance of his bright and cheerful coworker Midori, glad to be able to support him in all his endeavors without ever introducing romance into the equation.

While such a book might be disappointing for hardcore BL fans, I personally love stories that don’t turn out how one expects. When three of five stories in a collection don’t end with the couple getting together, and yet are still clearly love stories, I’m pretty impressed. I’m guess I’m just a sucker for the bittersweet.

I’m also a sucker for the awesomely random, so the fact that “Dustbin Space,” the longest story in the collection, features a romance between a guy who fails to sort his trash properly and an irascible garbageman is just icing on the cake!

-Review by Michelle Smith

Temperature Rising | By Souya Himawari | Published by Juné | Rated Mature (18+) | Buy at Akadot – Teens Minori and Mizumo have grown up together, ever since Mizumo’s irresponsible parents left most of their children in the care of Minori’s family. Unwilling to take money from his caretakers, Mizumo has struggled to support himself and his siblings since he was in the fifth grade. When, in high school, Minori finally discovers that Mizumo’s primary income has been coming from compensated sex with older men, he offers to pay Mizumo for the service himself, in order to keep him out of strangers’ beds. But when Minori eventually realizes he’s fallen in love with Mizumo, he isn’t sure how to handle the new lack of balance in their relationship.

What a profoundly mixed bag this manga is. To a great extent, everything about it is horrifyingly wrong. A fifth grade boy is caught stealing and subsequently blackmailed into sex by the college student who catches him. Though the experience is (in his words), “gross and scary,” the kid lights up afterwards when the college student pays him and decides to make it into a career, since it’s a way to make money that “feels pretty good.” This is the backstory for a decidedly lighthearted romance? Seriously? Add to that a huge cast of characters, including a mass of half-developed siblings (carried over from the less explicit Happiness Recommended) so ultimately unimportant to the story that’s being told, it’s odd that any time was spent inserting them at all, and you end up with something both hopelessly confused and perhaps outright offensive.

Though this manga’s execution leaves much to be desired, what’s not quite clear is what mangaka Souya Himawari’s intentions were for it in the first place, and that’s where she gains herself back some points. There’s a strong scent of ambition here in all the intricately created (yet barely used) supporting characters and even in Mizumo’s presumably damaging background that is undeniably intriguing, despite the lack of follow-through. And for all that’s wanting in this story’s development, the book’s primary romance is actually pretty compelling, thanks to the real sense of history and unspoken familiarity Himawari creates between them, even in the book’s earliest pages. There’s so much untapped potential in these characters she obviously loves, it’s almost painful to watch their story play out as some kind of twisted, schoolboy retelling of “Pretty Woman.” Yet it’s difficult to turn away when there’s so much natural depth to be found.

While it’s impossible not to conclude that Temperature Rising ultimately fails, there’s enough romantic potential and strong characterization to warrant the read. And I’d really love to see the fanfiction.

-Review by MJ

Review copies provided by the publisher.

Let’s Get Visual: Duds

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MICHELLE: After a few months of this column, I feel like I’m better able to think critically about the artistic aspect of manga. I expected to be able to better appreciate good art when I see it, but hadn’t anticipated that I’d also more readily notice flaws. This month, MJ (of Manga Bookshelf) and I turn our attention to problematic pages or, as I like to call them, “duds.” (Click on images to enlarge.)

Fairy Tail, Volume 10, Page 84 (Del Rey)

MJ: Wow. I’m… a little bit stymied by that image.

MICHELLE: It is a doozy, isn’t it? Actually, that page was the inspiration for this whole column. There I was, innocently reading volume ten of Fairy Tail, then I turned the page and was brutally accosted by that monstrosity!

So, as is probably pretty obvious, the speaker is unhinged. Mangaka Hiro Mashima has opted to depict this by freezing the guy in the act of making a weird face and forcing readers to read two huge bubbles full of ranting speech before we can proceed to the final (and uninteresting) panel on the bottom of the page. Now, maybe this is a tactic to make us feel as trapped as the girl does, having to sit there and listen to this lunatic ramble on, but it doesn’t do a good job at conveying his insanity. The page feels flat and lifeless; a better choice would have been to inject more movement into the scene, break up the speech, and maybe allow the guy the opportunity to change expressions throughout his tirade.

MJ: I honestly feel accosted by the page. Its primary image is loud, but not particularly expressive in any other way than that, and the text feels overwhelming to the point where I can’t really even bring myself to try to read it all. Not only that, the page is so top-heavy, I find it difficult to even look at. That bottom image is completely wasted there, not that it’s much of a waste.

MICHELLE: Yeah, it’s weird how an amount of text that would be perfectly reasonable to read in a prose novel suddenly looks so daunting in a speech bubble, but it really does. And you’re absolutely right that it’s loud without being expressive. Everything about this page is just so glaringly bad that I knew we had to build a column around lousy art so that I’d have an excuse to talk about it with someone!

MJ: Well, feel free to talk as much as you like, because I’ve rarely seen something so pointlessly hideous. And though I hate to think that I’m reacting purely out of aesthetics, I can’t deny that it offends me greatly on that level.

MICHELLE: I think that’s pretty much the only basis on which you can be expected to react, since you haven’t read the manga in question. For me, it completely yanked me out of the story, which I find inexcusable.

And though I appreciate the offer to further vent my spleen, perhaps we should proceed on to your dud of choice.

Baseball Heaven, pages 133-134 (approx.) (BLU Manga)

MJ: Okay, then. My “dud” comes from Ellie Mamahara’s Baseball Heaven, a BL manga I expressed no great love for in our BL Bookrack column a couple of months ago. I assume I don’t need to describe what’s happening in the scene, and chances are I don’t need to tell anyone what’s wrong with it, either, but of course that’s why we’re here.

I look at this scene, and there’s simply no passion in it. None at all. Here we have a guy, supposedly in an altered state of mind, making the moves on his teammate who has rebuffed him in the past, and not only do we not get any real sense of how either of them are feeling (we wouldn’t even know the one was drunk if it wasn’t for indications in the word balloons and flushed cheeks), but there’s absolutely no sexual tension between them conveyed through the artwork. And while I can appreciate that perhaps we’re meant to believe that athletes might be stiff and awkward with each other, surely the drunk guy, at least, would have a little heat in his body language here.

The artist goes through the motions, placing them physically near each other and indicating that the one is, perhaps, touching the other’s behind, but there is just no real feeling between them at all. Even when their faces are so close together, Mamahara is unable to provide any magnetic reaction between them. I should feel that they *want* to touch each other. It should feel painful for them not to. Instead, it leaves me completely cold.

MICHELLE: I definitely see what you mean! Personally, I keep staring at that first panel on the second page. They look so stiff and awkward. It’s not that I expect the position of a character’s legs to help drive the emotional content of a scene, but when they’re as oddly placed as the blond guy’s are, it feels unnatural and, by extension, makes everything else going on in the scene feel the same way.

MJ: I think I’d go so far as to say that in a scene like *this* one, I kind of *do* expect the position of a character’s legs to help drive the emotional content of the scene. It’s just as I was saying before, there should be a sense that the characters want desperately to touch each other (this includes legs) even if they might be scared to do so. I should see that in the legs and every other part of the body, at least in the drunk guy who is initiating the contact in the first place. It’s a seduction scene with no actual seduction going on.

Also, I feel like the panels are getting in the way of us viewing the scene, which is a weird and uncomfortable feeling. And unlike in last month’s selection where this was done to elicit response from the reader, here it just feels like clumsiness on the part of the artist. She provides these little glimpses of their faces and legs in the smaller panels, but since there is no tension in those panels, they don’t add anything to the scene. They just steal space from the main action, such as it is.

Wow, I’m really ranting now, aren’t I? Please stop me.

MICHELLE: You’re quite right, but I shall stop you as requested by introducing my second dud!

Moon Boy, Volume 9, Page 3 (Yen Press)

MICHELLE: Initially, it was the affronted rooster in the lower left that caught my eye and made me pause to really take in the complete and utter randomness of this page.

You’ve got a young person of indeterminate gender, swaddled in coat and boots, flushed and exhaling a gust of wintry air, possibly due to the exertion of just having decapitated a nearby snowman. This person is surrounded by such seasonal items as a piece of pie, a cookie, a beehive (with fake bees), an inverted dog bowl, and a pair of barnyard pals.

This was enough to have me snickering, but closer inspection reveals several problems in proportion and perspective. For one, take a look at that snowman’s nose. I’m pretty sure that is supposed to be the traditional carrot, but the artist was unable to draw it from a head-on perspective so instead it looks like a giant almond. Secondly, check out the boots. The right foot is clearly much larger than the left, and I don’t think it’s just an issue of angle—the detail on the top of each foot is different! Finally, actually wearing the mitten dangling by the person’s right hand on said hand would cause the heart pattern to appear on the palm side rather the back of the hand, where such designs typically go.

This is just sloppy and, above all, weird. What do these items have to do with each other? I also found it odd that one of the designs in the border is actually a musical symbol called a mordent. The mordent belongs to a class of musical embellishments called “ornaments,” which could carry a Christmassy connotation, except that I don’t credit this artist with that much cleverness.

MJ: I’ll admit I’m not too picky about things like perspective and such, but I am somehow disturbed by the way his fingers are digging into the poor snowman’s head. What did that poor (decapitated) snowman ever do to anyone? It’s as though he’s digging right into its scalp. Which looks oddly fleshy. And now I’m feeling shuddery.

MICHELLE: I don’t think I would have noticed the perspective problems if not for the chicken, to be honest, but spotting it here did spur me to notice other problems in the rest of the volume, notably a few deformed thumbs and some confusing action scenes that I wrote about in my review of the volume. I wasn’t sure what to make of the hands, honestly. If it’s that cold, why aren’t you wearing your mittens, kid?

MJ: If he put on his mittens, he wouldn’t be able to grab that piece of pie when it comes down. ;)

MICHELLE: Well, pie is important…

And that’s it for us this month. Do you have some duds of your own you’d like to share? We’d love to hear about them!

Missing Joseph by Elizabeth George: B+

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From the back cover:
Deborah and Simon St. James have taken a holiday in the winter landscape of Lancashire, hoping to heal the growing rift in their marriage. But in the barren countryside awaits bleak news: the vicar of Winslough, the man they had come to see, is dead—a victim of accidental poisoning. Unsatisfied with the inquest ruling and unsettled by the close association between the investigating constable and the woman who served the deadly meal, Simon calls in his old friend Detective Inspector Thomas Lynley. Together they uncover dark, complex relationships in this rural village, relationships that bring men and women together with a passion, with grief, or with the intention to kill.

Peeling away layer after layer of personal history to reveal the torment of a fugitive spirit, Missing Joseph is award-winning author Elizabeth George’s greatest achievement.

Review:
Somehow, I had formed the impression that Missing Joseph was all about Deborah St. James—whom I frequently find irksome—and her baby angst. Because of that, I put off reading it for quite a while until I was so strongly in the mood for an Elizabeth George mystery that no amount of histrionics would be able to dissuade me. As it turns out, it’s hardly about that at all and though Deborah learns an Important Lesson by the book’s end, she doesn’t play a very large role.

Deborah and Simon St. James have been going through a rough period in their marriage, because she is fixated on having a biological child, although doctors have cautioned against this, while Simon would be fine adopting one. They agree to put this fundamental disagreement aside and go on holiday to Lancashire. On their first evening in the village of Winslough, Simon hears a troubling story about the local constable and his ladyfriend, who has recently been investigated for the death of the vicar. The death was ruled an accident—she fed him hemlock at dinner, which apparently bears some resemblance to wild parsnip—but the fact that she and the constable are romantically involved is suspicious, so Simon calls Lynley to investigate the case.

I love mysteries where the story is sometimes told from the point of view of possible culprits, and Missing Joseph delivers admirably on this score. It’s very different from something like Naked Heat, which features celebrity caricatures for suspects instead of fully fleshed-out regular people. The primary cast, aside from the regulars, is the constable, the ladyfriend, her rebellious tween daughter, and the vicar’s housekeeper. Relationships are intertwined and secrets are closely kept, and it was quite fascinating watching Lynley slowly unravel the facts of the case. The manner of the vicar’s death was never in doubt, and yet I could not predict the outcome.

With all this praise, why a mere B+? I’ll answer in the form of some advice for the author.

Dear Ms. George:

When writing an overweight character whom you intend to describe as a “whale,” whose gait is lumbering, whose “bulk” is “enormous,” whose flesh feels like “a quadruple batch of lumpy bread dough,” it is probably best not to stipulate their exact weight. You see, some Americans are quite capable of converting stone into pounds and might realize, in so doing, that this character does not weigh so much more than they themselves do.

If you must write about an overweight character in these terms, which I strongly discourage, it would be better to leave some of the details to the reader’s imagination.

Grumpily yours,
Michelle

There are a few minor problems, as well. Deborah and Simon have evidently been having this argument about biological versus adopted children for a while now, but it’s not until they go on holiday that he actually asks her why she’s so intent on having biological kids. Simon may be a highly logical man, but he’s not an insensitive one; I found it far-fetched that he would not have posed this question right away. Also, Deborah is irritatingly dense in the moments before she learns her Important Lesson, which makes it even more cheesy. Still, it might bode well for a lessening of future angst. We shall see.

All in all, I enjoyed Missing Joseph quite a lot and it has rekindled my desire to get caught up on the Lynley mysteries. Expect to see more in the near future!