Michelle Smith

Pick of the Week: Sci-fi smorgasbord

February 14, 2011 by Katherine Dacey, Michelle Smith, MJ and David Welsh 8 Comments

It’s slim pickin’s once again this week at Midtown Comics. Check out recommendations from the Manga Bookshelf bloggers and special guest Michelle Smith!

From Kate: This week, I’m going to ignore my triskaidekaphobia and recommend the thirteenth volume of 20th Century Boys. We’re now a little past the midway mark in the series, and I can honestly say I have no idea where it’s headed. With a less capable author than Naoki Urasawa, I might be worried; I was one of those viewers who grew tired of Lost’s bolt-from-the-blue plotting after just two seasons. Urasawa, however, does an excellent job of convincing the reader to stay the course, offering tantalizing clues to the Friend’s identity while gradually revealing what went down on the eve of the millennium. I’m convinced that no matter how the series ends, I will believe in that ending, even if I didn’t forsee it.

From Michelle: This is probably going to be an unpopular choice, but I’m going to go with volume three of Bokurano: Ours. The series features a group of middle-school-aged children taking life-leeching turns piloting a mecha to protect Earth from invaders, and has some serious flaws, most notably the inability to allow readers to really get to know or care about any of these kids before it’s their turn to die. Many would eschew a story like this, and maybe it’s my complete and utter lack of a maternal drive talking, but I find it kind of fascinating. There hasn’t been any reason offered for this invasion, and I suspect that someone, somewhere is merely enjoying a bit of sport at humanity’s expense. We shall see!

From MJ: I’m going to go off the Midtown list this week and turn to the fine folks at Boston’s Comicopia, who say they’ll be seeing volume three of one of my favorite new series of last year, Nobuaki Tadano’s 7 Billion Needles, published in English by Vertical, Inc. This is my second time around with this series as a Pick, but it’s really that good. Check out my review of volume two here. A quote: “Though the story’s horror/sci-fi elements are what keeps its plot going, the real heart of this story is Hikaru’s journey toward becoming a real, living participant in her world, and this is a story Tadano tells very well.” I’m very much looking forward to digging into the newest volume.

From David: I was hoping someone would fudge their source before I had to do so. I’m going to again use the ComicList for my pick, which would be the first omnibus of Yu Aida’s Gunslinger Girl (Seven Seas). Ages ago, when I was still writing the Flipped column for Comic World News, I asked various manga bloggers to share what they felt were overlooked comics. Ed (MangaCast) Chavez, now with Vertical, mentioned Gunslinger Girl, describing it as a “[w]ell drawn primer to pop-culture perversion.” I’ve been curious ever since, and this seems like an economical and convenient way to slake that curiosity, though I may live to regret it.

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Readers, what are your picks this week?

Human Nature by Paul Cornell: B-

February 13, 2011 by Michelle Smith

From the back cover:
“Who’s going to save us this time?”

April, 1914. The inhabitants of the little Norfolk town of Farringham are enjoying an early summer, unaware that war is on the way. Amongst them is Dr. John Smith, a short, middle-aged history teacher from Aberdeen. He’s having a hard time with his new post as house master at Hulton Academy for Boys, a school dedicated to producing military officers.

Bernice Summerfield is enjoying her holiday in the town, getting over the terrible events that befell her in France. But then she meets a future Doctor, and things start to get dangerous very quickly. With the Doctor she knows gone, and only a suffragette and an elderly rake for company, can Benny fight off a vicious alien attack? And will Dr. Smith be able to save the day?

Review:
Despite the fact that I own about ten of The New Adventures novels starring the Seventh Doctor, I’d never read any of them. It took a .pdf of Human Nature hosted on the BBC website (sadly no longer available) to compel me to finally check one out.

Why Human Nature? Because this novel is the basis for a rather emotional two-parter in the third season of the new incarnation of Doctor Who. I was curious to see how the original novel differs from the televised version (for those fortunate enough to snag a copy of the .pdf before its disappearance, author Paul Cornell does devote part of his endnotes to a discussion of the process of adapting the story for the screen) and also eager to read about Bernice (“Benny”) Summerfield, a companion of the Seventh Doctor whom I have previously encountered only in audio dramas.

The basic gist of the plot is the same in both versions. The Doctor has hidden away his Time Lord essence and is living as a human named John Smith, an unconventional teacher at an all-boys’ school in England on the eve of the first World War. As Smith, the Doctor writes fanciful stories and falls in love with fellow teacher, Joan Redfern. Bliss does not ensue, however, due to a family of aliens that has followed The Doctor and ends up attacking the school. It’s up to The Doctor’s companion to remind Smith of his true identity, and up to Smith to decide whether to remain human and pursue a chance at happiness with Joan or don the mantle of the Time Lord once more and save the day.

The differences are in the details. Why The Doctor chooses to live as a human, for instance. The identity of his companion and her relationship to Smith. The reasons the aliens have for pursuing him. These things don’t matter all that much, but in nearly every instance I prefer the televised version. It’s a much more emotional story—largely because it’s more easy to believe David Tennant’s Tenth Doctor as a romantic lead than Sylvester McCoy’s Seventh—and I sympathized with Smith’s dilemma more when I could physically see the agony the decision was causing him.

Too, boiling the story down to its most essential bits results in a tighter, more coherent tale. The book’s well-intentioned but random attempt at a gay romance is excised, for example, as is Benny’s brief and ill-fated friendship with a suffragette. (If you thought I’d pass up this opportunity to make a “Benny and the ‘gettes” joke, you are much mistaken.) Some of the dialogue in the book doesn’t sound natural, either, like this line from Joan when she’s meeting The Doctor for the first time:

‘Oh…’ Joan closed her eyes for a long, hard, instant. Then she opened them. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you, Doctor. Is there nothing about you that’s like the man to whom I’ve become engaged?’

I mean, I love me some grammar about twelve times as much as the next gal, but I’m pretty sure I would dispense with it in a moment like that! I do like the detail about her eyes, though.

Complaints aside, there is one thing that the book has that the televised version lacks, and it’s for this one thing alone that the book is worth reading: Benny. I positively adore Benny. She’s brilliant, competent, funny, bawdy, and a bit of a lush. Part of why I love her might be because Cornell based her on Harriet Vane, the awesomely independent and intelligent writer of detective fiction from Dorothy L. Sayers’ Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries. Whenever I snickered whilst reading this book, it was all due to Benny, like this description of a table of women at a beverage tent on some planet’s marketplace:

They looked like they all came from different places, and had clustered together out of the familiar realisation that internal gonads are best, actually.

Her presence gave me something new to look forward to in a story with which I was familiar, and I liked her so much that I am going to try to find time to read Love and War, another New Adventures effort from Cornell that introduces the character. Any other recommendations?

Off the Shelf: Boob-free living

February 9, 2011 by Michelle Smith and MJ 5 Comments

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 some recent releases from Viz Media and Tokyopop.

MJ: So, here we are again, ready for our usual column. Is it just me who’s thinking, “How can we ever top the boobs episode?”

MICHELLE: Actually, it’s a relief to me that this week’s column is boob-free! Not that I refuse to consider the notion of a sequel at some point down the line.

MJ: So, what boob-free fare have you been gratefully consuming this week? :D

MICHELLE: Completely at random, both manga I plan to talk about are written by someone named Yuuki! First up is the debut volume of Itsuwaribito, by Yuuki Iinuma and published under VIZ’s Shonen Sunday imprint.

As a child, Utsuho Azako was so trusting that he innocently divulged all the details about the layout and defenses of his home to a group of bandits, which resulted in mass slaughter. Now in his adolescence, he’s being cared for by a monk in the “Valley of Orphans” and maintains that it’s better to be an itsuwaribito—one skilled in sneaking, tricking, beating, and stealing—than to be an honest fool. When the valley is the target of still more bandits and everyone except Utsuho is killed, he resolves to use his gift for lying for good and to save a thousand people in the kindly monk’s stead.

Utsuho heads out on his journey and quickly encounters a talking tanuki caught in a trap. The tanuki, whom Utsuho christens “Pochi,” is positively adorable. Trusting to a fault, he keeps falling for the trick of a hunter who claims he will return Pochi’s mother if Pochi will meet him at a certain time and place, which provides Utusho his first chance to help someone by lying. Afterwards, he and Pochi help a reluctant bandit leave his gang and a young doctor to save his patient from the sway of a charlatan.

Aside from one particularly nice moment—when Utsuho invites Pochi to travel with him, he says, “We’re not related by blood so it’s not true. It’s a lie, but I’ll be your family”—Itsuwaribito is pretty uninspiring. The villains are as superficial as they come, and there’s no suspense at all as to whether Utsuho will best them. In a bizarre juxtaposition, these silly, tongue-lolling foes are also apt to dispense some fairly graphic violence. It’s very strange because this feels so much like a teen-rated title, until the top of someone’s head is being sliced off.

I haven’t completely given up on Itsuwaribito, but I would say this is probably something to investigate via the library before committing to purchase.

MJ: Well, I think teens generally appreciate things like heads being sliced and so on. :D I admit this title looked uninspiring to me, even on a surface level. I’m sorry to hear there’s not much more to dig for.

MJ: Ah, no. Definitely no woodland creatures, and the only joke I can think of to follow that up with is dirty, so I’ll refrain. I do have a Yuki, though! First off this week, I made good on one of my promised second chances by reading volume five of Yuki Yoshihara’s Butterflies, Flowers. Though I’d really enjoyed the first volume of this series, things went rapidly downhill for me as I became unable to stomach some of the story’s sexual politics. Still, after having privately decided to dump the series, continued praise from some folks whose taste I usually share made me wonder what I was missing.

After promising to give it a second chance, I picked up volume four, and was shocked by how easily it won me back to the series. That volume completely charmed me by being made up of mostly the same smart, over-the-top comedy that wooed me in the first place. So when Viz sent me volume five for review, I was actually looking forward to digging in.

Surprisingly, the volume launched itself from pretty shaky ground, beginning with a couple of chapters devoted to Choko and Masayuki’s collective angst over whether or not to live together. Though there were a few laughs sprinkled throughout these chapters, the storyline veered a bit too much into serious romance mode for me to fully enjoy them. Fortunately, the story’s next chapters (revolving around Masayuki’s sudden onset of impotence) jumped right back into comedy, which is definitely my preferred tone for this series.

Though Yoshihara continues to push my limits with regards to controlling men as romantic leads, she really satisfies my sense of humor, and that’s difficult to beat. All told, I’m glad I gave this series a second chance, and I’m genuinely looking forward to more.

MICHELLE: This is excellent news! I’ve been planning to catch up on this series myself, and now I’m even more motivated to do so. One of the things I particularly remember from the earlier volumes is Masayuki’s abrupt changes in character between domineering jerk and solicitous sweetie. It was hard to get a handle on his personality. Any progress in that arena in recent volumes?

MJ: He’s still both of those things, definitely, but Yoshihara is dealing with him pretty well by making fun of his vulnerabilities pretty mercilessly. That definitely helps to put the domineering jerk in his place. :D

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

MICHELLE: No, no woodland creatures, but no shortage of cuteness despite their absence! My second pick is the second volume of The Stellar Six of Gingacho, by my second Yuuki, Yuuki Fujimoto.

As you know, this is a slice-of-life story about six friends who grew up helping out at their parents’ shops along the Gingacho Street Market. In the second volume, we fast forward a little so that everyone has now just entered high school. Structurally, this volume is very similar to the first, including a couple of chapters in which the friends band together to help out a neighbor in need, first at a flower shop being victimized by a vandal and then at a short-handed bento shop that’s swamped at its grand opening.

These are lighthearted stories, saved from becoming repetitive by awesome scenes like child-like Mike taking the bento shop’s elementary-aged daughter—who’s upset at having moved away from all her friends—around the market and pointing out everything that makes it awesome. Mike naturally knows just what to say to make a kid feel comfortable and interested, and by the end of their journey, a layer of subtle screentoned sparkles conveys how thoroughly Mike has brought the magic of the place to life for this unwilling transplant. It kind of made me verklempt.

The first volume focused primarily on Mike and her best friend, Kuro, and while I like both of them a lot, I was hoping future volumes would spend more time with their friends. Alas, that is not to be, as there’s a fair amount of material here about Mike and Kuro’s relationship and how Mike is utterly oblivious to the fact that Kuro is in love with her. Although she would say she knows nothing about love, she still refuses to lose Kuro to anything, be it another school, another sports team, or another girl. It’s a little frustrating that Kuro doesn’t just tell her already, but perhaps he’s waiting for her to be not quite so dense first.

Another aspect of the story that is both good and bad is the propensity of adults to comment on the kids’ friendship. When Kei-san, the owner of the flower shop, tells Mike, “There’s nothing that doesn’t change,” it works. I am a sucker for bittersweet nostalgia, and moments like these imply that perhaps the kids will drift apart despite their pledges not to let that happen. However, when even random passerby feel the need to call out, “Just how long do you think it’s gonna last? Forever?” then it becomes a bit much.

In the end, The Stellar Six of Gingacho is a series that may look a little generic on the surface, but has a special charm all its own.

MJ: I *really* enjoyed the first volume of this series and I’m quite excited to read this one, even taking into account your few caveats. I, too, had hoped that we’d see more of Mike’s other friends in future volumes, though it certainly helps that I really *like* both Mike and Kuro, so it’s not like I’ll be sad to see more of them. And the scene you describe with Mike and the little new girl sounds absolutely delightful.

Has your enthusiasm for the series waned at all after this volume?

MICHELLE: Not a bit! At first I might’ve been a little, “Oh, here we go again” regarding the neighbor-helping, but when I later ended up a mite sniffly I put aside all my doubts. This one’s a keeper.

Can you say the same for your next book?

MJ: You know, I think I can. This week, I checked out the third volume of Bakuman, Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata’s tale of aspiring teen mangaka. This series has taken a beating from bloggers (occasionally including me) for things like sexism, lazy romance, and an unrealistic setup for the teens’ entry into the industry. Still, I named it one of my top two new shounen series for 2010, and this volume actually cements that decision in my mind.

Though Mashiro and Takagi have now experienced some success with a third-place one-shot in Akamaru Jump, their next step brings them mostly frustration, and even puts them at odds with their editor, who doesn’t believe that trying to create something mainstream is the right move for them at all. Personally, things are becoming strained as well, as Takagi starts spending more time with his girlfriend and Mashiro takes a position as an assistant to a rival artist.

Usually my favorite part of a story is where everything goes wrong, and this is where we are now (at least for the moment) in Bakuman. I’m especially pleased that Ohba and Obata are able to balance the typical shounen perseverance with some real doubt and bitterness as well. Though it seems unlikely that our heroes will remain apart for long, their separation doesn’t feel forced at all, and there are some hard realities for both of them to face here.

Reduced presence of Mashiro’s awkward romance is definitely a plus in this volume, with extra points for the prevalence of Takagi’s, which is actually pretty interesting to watch. One of this volume’s strong points, too, is some extended screen time for their eccentric rival, Eiji Nizuma, who is possibly my favorite character in the series at this point.

Most of all, however, I’m still really enjoying this look at the fairly calculated world of Jump, alternately inspiring and chilling, whether that was the authors’ intention or not.

MICHELLE: I really like Bakuman, even though I have totally complained about the things you mentioned, so the developments in this volume sound quite welcome. Like you, I find the insight into the workings of Jump to be the very best thing about this series. I suppose it’s too much to hope that Mashiro realizes that his arrangement with his sort of girlfriend is really stupid.

MJ: Probably, though I’m finding it much less distracting at this point, so perhaps we can hope that it might actually become interesting?

MICHELLE: I suppose there is at least a small chance that might happen!

MJ: We live in hope.

MICHELLE: Hey, is that a Rutles reference?!

MJ: Not deliberately, but it could have been! :D

Tune in next week for this month’s BL Bookrack, and then again the week after for an all new Off the Shelf!

Off the Shelf: Boobalicious

February 3, 2011 by Michelle Smith and MJ 16 Comments

MICHELLE: Welcome to a rather… special edition of Off the Shelf! Before we launch into our selections today, I wanted to provide a little background. Y’see, although I genuinely love a very wide spectrum of manga, no matter the demographic to which it’s aimed, there’s still one genre from which I instinctively steer clear: the blatantly fanservicey. When two debut series, each putting its cover to boobalicious use, were released in the same month, I decided to challenge myself to read them, hoping that beneath the titillating exterior I’d find a good story that I would’ve otherwise missed.

MJ: Boobies!

MICHELLE: Er, yes. Anyway, I enlisted MJto participate in this experiment along with me, which brings us to this evening’s mammarian extravaganza.

How went your forays into fanservice?

MJ: Well, they were mixed, to be sure. I’ll start from the bottom (so to speak) and move up. My first ultra-servicey selection was Mario Kaneda’s Saving Life, published in English by TOKYOPOP.

Haruhiko is a rich high school kid who has left home to escape his father’s influence. Living on his own is tougher than Haruhiko imagined. He’s pretty lonely in his new digs, and has even filled the place up with scavenged (mostly broken) appliances just to make the place feel less empty. On top of that, money troubles send him scraping for part-time jobs and scrounging for change from his school’s vending machines. Fortunately, his two closest childhood friends, Yoriko and Nanako (who just happen to be totally boobalicious babes) are waiting to come to the rescue!

Haruhiko’s accident-prone and super-clumsy (unless he’s working), so much of the story so far consists of him accidentally falling into one (or both) of the girls, often while they’re nearly naked, and there’s always some kind of water-related incident coming into play just in time to ensure that the girls’ clothes get soaked through.

Obviously story was never the point here, and Kaneda barely tries. I have to give high marks to the boobs, though. While it’s established early on that Haruhiko is an ass man, Kaneda doesn’t skimp on the chest area in the slightest. They’re all on the large side (but not toooo large), and Kaneda brings them into focus pretty much whenever possible. The worst part of this series’ fanservice is its contrived human pile-ups and blushing-shy-girl cheesecake poses the female characters are constantly maneuvered into.

I assume that this series’ target audience knows what it’s getting into here. Unfortunately, despite its perfectly nice boobies, I can’t recommend it for anyone else.

MICHELLE: Your description reminds me of the the time I tried to read Negima!. Though I’ve heard it develops a plot later on, the first volume was almost entirely girls tripping and sprawling over the young protagonist or him accidentally walking into someone’s bountiful bosom.

You bring up a good point: characterization counts with boobalicious ladies! Badass ones, like Revy from Black Lagoon (as seen here) do not trouble me one bit, especially if it seems that they dress the way they do because they want to and not to catch some fella’s eye. Boobalicious girls who simper and are brainless, however, make steam come out of my ears.

MJ: What’s a little sad, is that both Yoriko and Nanako have some interesting character traits and they’re generally not weak. But they’re always weak when Kaneda is overtly sexing them up, which is pretty gross to me.

So what bountiful bosoms do you have to share tonight?

MICHELLE: Interestingly, both of my picks are disaster/survival stories, so they’ve got much more plot than Saving Life seems to have.

First up is Highschool of the Dead, by Daisuke and Shouji Sato, a fast-paced action movie sort of manga in which a sudden zombie outbreak at Fujimi High School is just the latest development in a more widespread epidemic. A few resourceful students manage to escape the carnage, after many scenes in which classmates maul and/or kill one another, and the volume ends with the small band poised to check on their families and gauge the condition of the rest of the town.

Does it matter that I haven’t given you any characters’ names? No, not really. You’ve got the hotheaded guy, the girl who was his childhood friend, a geeky dude, a smart girl, the cool and composed female kendo captain, et cetera. No one has any depth, and a few things don’t make much sense, but at least some of the girls are given the opportunity to be strong and useful.

It’s certainly not a great manga, but I enjoyed it well enough—about on par with how I enjoy Raiders, another zombie-related Yen Press title—to want to see what happens next. (Plus, it earns a few bonus points for what might have been a Shaun of the Dead reference.)

But oh, the boobs. They are hideous. I think Kate Dacey called them something like “distended lemons,” and there’s really no better way to put it. The ones on the cover are bad enough—that pose is impossible and her arm looks like it’s on backwards!—but worse lurk within. I have seen my share of bodacious boobs, but never any that were so huge that they had to extend beyond the panel’s border! Behold:

Those are not attractive bosoms. Those are head-scratchingly bizarre bosoms. How can one pay attention to a zombie uprising whenever these avocados of doom keep thrusting themselves in one’s face?

MJ: Well, heavens. You know, I was so distracted by the hilariously unnecessary panty shots when I read this manga, I somehow missed the strange, missile-shaped boobs entirely. Also, I’m quite taken with the phrase, “avocados of doom.”

MICHELLE: Oh god, yes. Even scenes that I wanted to like for their grim depiction of human nature—for example, a pair of girls whose eternal friendship lasts precisely as long as it takes one of them to fall into a zombie’s clutches—are marred by gratuitous panty shots. I really don’t get the appeal. I conducted an informal poll of two whole guys and neither of them found it sexy, either. They could’ve been dissembling, I suppose, but I doubt it.

MJ: That was really the saddest thing about this book, wasn’t it? There was some stuff to say, after all. It may not be the most original stuff–this ground has been covered pretty extensively in nearly every medium-but it was there. Still, it’s the fanservice that drives the series, which is just kinda… icky.

MICHELLE: Yeah. In the end, I’ll be back for volume two, but I won’t be expecting much.

I take it you liked your second selection more than the first.

MJ: I did in a way, though not for itself, actually. My second pick was volume one of Spice & Wolf, adapted by Keito Koume from Isuna Hasekura’s novels. Yen Press is publishing both concurrently, which on one hand is pretty cool, but on the other, really exposes the weaknesses of the adaptation.

Kraft Lawrence is a traveling merchant who, after encountering a village harvest festival in the midst of his travels, discovers that the village’s harvest “god” (a 600-year-old wolf-spirit named Holo, who appears as a teen girl with a wolf’s ears and tail) has stowed away on his wagon. Anxious to return to her northern homeland, Holo begs to join Kraft on his travels, and though he’s initially a bit wary, Kraft agrees. As it turns out, 600 years of observing mankind has given Holo a great sense for both business and human nature, so she’s pretty useful as a merchant’s companion. Unfortunately, with the church so much in power, her supernatural appearance poses a threat to her survival.

This premise sounds fascinating, and honestly it is. But wordy explanations of medieval economics don’t necessarily translate well into visual storytelling, and unfortunately that’s what happens here. While the series’ first novel is a pretty good read, especially for fantasy fans who are weary of the usual swords and magic stuff, the manga’s debut volume plods endlessly along, so unsuited to full visual treatment, the illustrations feel like they’re actually in the way of the story.

Furthermore, while Jyuu Ayakura’s original character designs offer just the slightest taste of fanservice–more than enough, in my view, when the lead female reads visually as a very young teen–the manga’s prolonged nude scenes end up feeling just creepy. Holo’s childlike, impish expressions may be cute when she’s conning another merchant, but coupled with color pages filled with nude poses, it’s another story indeed.

In the end, I’d recommend picking up the novels, but leaving the manga alone. With a title this popular, I’m sure there are plenty of Holo artbooks out there for those who require their sexy teen fix.

Unlike Saving Life, Spice & Wolf gives Holo the full bare-breasted treatment, and since even I feel creepy discussing this with a character who looks so young, I’ll refrain from attempting to rate them.

MICHELLE: I have seen the adjective “creepy” applied to Holo’s nude scenes before, which is why I have no intention of reading the manga adaptation of a light novel series with such a unique and interesting concept. This is another case where I just have to go, “Why?” Do you think it’s partly to compensate for the elements of the story that fail to translate well to a more visual medium?

MJ: Well, this may be an unfair assumption, but it seems to me like it’s just for the purpose of pleasing male fans who aren’t able to fantasize on their own with the prose.

MICHELLE: Could be, though I’m sure plenty of guys find this all creepy, too.

MJ: Well to be clear, I’m sure that lack of imagination doesn’t apply to all men. :)

So, what was your second boobalicious book?

MICHELLE: My second pick was the first volume of Lives, a new two-volume series from TOKYOPOP. Like Highschool of the Dead, it wastes little time getting to the disaster du jour—a rain of asteroids that appears to kill a few people who then, mysteriously, wake up unharmed in a jungle. It quickly becomes clear that all of the creatures there were at one point human and that many are unable to overcome the urges that compel them to attack and eat their fellow mancritters. There’s no explanation for this—unless you count the nude angel who descends to inform a schoolgirl she was perfectly right to eat her brother—and I’m a little concerned that there won’t ever be much of one, given that there’s only one more volume in the series and that this one spends far too many pages on a subplot about intra-dojo rivalry.

The fanservice is not quite as intrusive as in Highschool of the Dead, though there are still visuals like topless, disemboweled corpses that I could have done without. What bothers me more is the characterization of the women. The fact that the girl on the cover is wearing very little, for example, is less troubling than the fact that she looks completely dazed and vacant. Another female character is introduced as the most competent member of a sexy singing group, but she very quickly loses any cool points she might have possessed by blushingly making out with her skeevy manager about two minutes after her bandmates have been viciously slaughtered.

Scattered storytelling and weak women don’t do much to encourage me to keep reading, but since there is only one more volume I will probably be a completist and read it, even though I expect that it will be lame.

MJ: But what about the boobs, Michelle? You’re missing what’s really important here.

MICHELLE: They’re your standard big bazongas. Improbably huge and round and bouncy, but at least they won’t poke your eye out.

MJ: And so we give thanks for small blessings.

MICHELLE: Ha, yeah. Ultimately, I’m glad I didn’t let the fanservice keep me from reading these two books. Perhaps I fared better than you did in terms of my selections actually having plots—I still can’t picture myself reading an ecchi romantic comedy, really—but though they weren’t that good, they weren’t that bad, either.

MJ: Agreed. :)

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Join us again next week for an all new Off the Shelf!

PotW: Shounen Manga FTW!

February 1, 2011 by Katherine Dacey, Michelle Smith, MJ and David Welsh 3 Comments

Though MJkicks off this week’s Picks with a new shoujo favorite, the theme of the week is resoundingly shounen, according to David, Kate, and special guest Michelle Smith!

From MJ: There’s quite a bit of new shoujo on Midtown Comics’ list this week, including favorites like Kimi ni Todoke and Seiho Boys’ High School! But the one I most consider an absolute must-read is volume two of previous Pick The Story of Saiunkoku, art by Kairi Yura, adapted from the novels by Sai Yukino. The series’ first volume charmed me completely with its smart, capable heroine and compelling palace intrigue, even earning itself a place on my list of Best Manga of 2010. Don’t believe me? Check out David’s recent review, fully as delightful a read as the book itself. A strong opening volume can be a tough act to follow, so I look forward to discovering what Yura and Yukino have in store.

From David: I’m going to take this opportunity to remind people of my abiding love for Eiichiro Oda’s One Piece and pick the 56th volume of this sprawling, hilarious pirate saga. It would probably not be wise to recommend that someone who has never picked up a volume of this series start with the 56th volume, unless that person is a fan of great action cartooning. Our hero, Luffy D. Monkey, is staging a massive jailbreak, battling sinister jailers and gathering an ever-larger gang of allies along the way. The chief joy in these giant set pieces is to see how Oda manages to combine wildly improbable action, comedy, and heart in a mad jumble that always seems on the verge of spinning out of control, but never does.

From Kate: My choice is Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan, a new shonen series that VIZ has been promoting up a storm. The story focuses on a young teen whose grandfather leads a demon clan. Gramps wants Rikuo to follow in his footsteps, but there’s a catch: Rikuo is only one-quarter demon, and can’t control when or for how long he turns into a yokai. Not surprisingly, Rikuo’s iffy powers don’t inspire much confidence among the full-blooded yokai, and various factions try to prevent Rikuo from succeeding his grandfather. The story hasn’t quite found its groove: the comic relief scenes aren’t particularly funny, and the characters haven’t come into their own yet. But the pacing is smart and the yokai designs nifty (think Gegege no Kitaro meets the Hokusai Manga), so I think it’s worth pursuing, especially for readers who liked Kekkaishi and Natsume’s Book of Friends.

From Michelle: It’s another wallet-busting week for manga! I’m definitely excited about new volumes of some Shojo Beat favorites, as well as volume three of Bakuman, which I realize isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but honestly, the one release on this list that has me going, “Eee!” more than any other is volume fourteen of Slam Dunk. Why? Because I’m allowed to read this one! You see, this is a series that benefits from being read in multiple-volume chunks, which occasionally requires me to bide my time and sit on some books until I have amassed enough to read them. I’ve been doing that with volume thirteen. Honestly, two volumes really aren’t enough to satisfy one’s appetite, but it’s better than nothing! And yes, I know, I know. I really should read Inoue’s REAL, which is, I’m sure, the better manga, but that doesn’t keep me from loving Slam Dunk whole-heartedly.

Amazon.com Widgets

So, readers, what is your must-buy manga this week?

Eensy Weensy Monster 1 by Masami Tsuda: B

January 31, 2011 by Michelle Smith

From the back cover:
Nanoha Satsuki, an average, plain-Jane high school student, comfortably spends her time in the shadow of her two beautiful, popular friends. But new guy Hazuki Tokiwa, with his snobbish, arrogant demeanor, has a way of getting under Nanoha’s skin, and releasing her inner monster!

Is this the beginning of an ugly relationship, or does Hazuki have his own hidden qualities?

Review:
I feel a little guilty that I’ve started another Masami Tsuda series rather than actually finish Kare Kano, but this one is so short and cute and I really will finish the other one this year, I swear!

Nanoha Satsuki is normally a calm, friendly girl. Even the attention paid to her childhood friends—princely Nobara, dubbed the “Lady Oscar” of the school, and genius Renge—doesn’t get her down. For some reason, though, a superficial boy named Hazuki and his snobby ways really get her goat. Nanoha attributes these mysterious feelings of anger to a “little parasite” and does her best to keep a lid on them, but one day she’s had enough and lays into Hazuki for being arrogant and narrow-minded.

Should it be a surprise to anyone that these two will eventually end up together? No, but how they get there is actually pretty interesting. After the outburst, Nanoha lives in fear of some kind of retribution, but her words have actually shocked Hazuki out of his reverie. Bratty vanity, as it turns out, is his little monster to overcome. He realizes he has no real friends or goals and comes to appreciate her hard-working qualities. In time, Nanoha is able to relax when he’s around, and by the end of the first volume—after the passage of several months—they’ve become friends.

Tsuda is very good at depicting the opening stages of a couple’s relationship—the first two volumes of Kare Kano are still my favorite part—and puts those skills to good use here. One technique she’s fond of is putting the girl’s perspective of events on the right-side page, and the boy’s on the left, and it works nicely here. For all of the moments when Nanoha catches Hazuki looking at her and thinks he’s plotting something dastardly or contemplating her lack of academic prowess, we see that he’s usually thinking things like, “If I want to be a better person, I should learn from someone like her.”

The overall tone is lighthearted, but one does come to like the leads a good deal by the end. Nanoha’s friends are quirky, too, and I’d like to know more about them, but if the couple gets together in the first two volumes and then we spend loads of time on their friends, I guess this would just turn into a clone of Tsuda’s more famous series.

As a final note, I must mention how much I love what Tsuda does with Hazuki’s fangirls. Immediately after being told off by Nanoha, Hazuki goes to them for sympathy. Instead, they all laugh in his face. “She sees right through you! I mean, we all like you, but we wouldn’t go out with you or anything.” Later, when Hazuki and Nanoha have gotten friendly, a few girls decide that they ought to bully her, but they’re rotten at it. At one point a cluster of girls follows Nanoha after school with the intention of threatening her, only to instinctively end up rallying to her defense when it looks like she’s been accosted by a creepy dude. Then they all find a new prince to swoon over. The end.

In the end, Eensy Weensy Monster is a totally cute and sweet shoujo romance. It probably won’t convert anyone to either the demographic or the genre, but it will provide an afternoon’s pleasant amusement to existing fans of both.

Let’s Get Visual: Tricks of the Trade

January 29, 2011 by Michelle Smith

MICHELLE: It’s time for another installment of Let’s Get Visual, a monthly feature in which Manga Bookshelf’s MJ and I work to expand our artistic horizons!

This month’s column is inspired by a recent TOKYOPOP release, How to Draw Shojo Manga. Instead of simply offering tips on drawing faces, poses, or cute little animals, this book surprised and impressed me by its wealth of specific advice on many aspects of the manga-creation process. I covered it in a recent Off the Shelf column, and concluded by saying, “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 mangaka should be—and theoretically is—striving for in his/her work that I found it quite a fascinating read.”

I put together a list of some of the techniques suggested by the book, and MJand I kept our eyes out for shoujo manga that puts them into practice. Happily, I stumbled upon a perfect example almost right away in the series Karakuri Odette, recently the topic of the Manga Moveable Feast.

Karakuri Odette, Volume 5, Pages 1-2 (TOKYOPOP)

MICHELLE: These two pages exemplify several elements from How to Draw Shojo Manga. On the first page, for example, we have a variety of different-sized shots of the scene and characters, as recommended on page 60. (“Each page needs a rhythm. If all the panels are the same size, and the characters just sit there talking, that’s no fun to read.”)

In the middle of the second page, when the danger of the falling boards is realized, the use of diagonal lines evokes this piece of advice, from page 68: “By placing a character at a diagonal within the panel, the composition becomes unstable, allowing you to express the character’s anxiety, nervousness, or fear.”

Lastly, you’ve got the cliffhanger page-turn to build up the reader’s anticipation, as advised on page 59. “If you can hook the readers at the bottom of the page and make them ask “What next?!” as they turn the page, then you’ve succeeded.”

I’m starting to wonder if mangaka Julietta Suzuki read this book, too!

MJ: Well, if you think about the fact that the book was written by editors from the publisher that released Karakuri Odette, it seems likely that these are standards to which they hold all their artists!

You know, aside from obvious two-page spreads, I’d never really put a lot of thought into how important it can be for a chapter’s right and left-hand pages to be so precisely displayed. But it’s clear here that the bottom left panel of the left-hand page must immediately precede the page turn in order to have its intended impact. This actually brings up some questions for me about the effectiveness of digital distribution, given that most of the readers I’ve encountered favor (or at least allow) single-page views. How much page-to-page impact are we losing by reading manga on a portable device without even realizing it?

MICHELLE: Yes, I had meant to mention that the book was produced by the editors of Hakusensha’s shoujo manga.

And yes, that’s a great point. I believe the viewer at the NETCOMICS site preserves the two-page view, which is excellent, but others don’t. I suppose this is the argument in favor of shelling out loads of money for an iPad instead of trying to read shrinky-dink manga on one’s Kindle, but eh. I think I’ll stick with paper books!

Moving on to pages three and four…

Here we’ve got the resolution to the cliffhanger, in which Odette swoops in to save the day with her android strength. Suzuki uses a nifty trick to express Odette’s predicament simply through composition: placing her alone in the middle of a wide shot (as advocated on page 68) emphasizes her isolation from her classmates in this moment, bringing into focus how different she is from them, in that she can pull off this feat with ease.

Not that this stops her, as she chivalrously scoops up her classmate—”It’s effective to have a panel that draws the eye to the top of the left page,” notes the book—and carries her off. We know they’ve gone to the nurse’s office because Suzuki has followed the advice about using a sign or placard as an establishing shot when changing scenes (page 76).

I’ve got to say, it feels a little odd to be able to match up practically every panel to a specific piece of advice in the how-to book because when I read this scene, I really didn’t think of any of these things. Suzuki may be employing common practices when drawing her series, but that doesn’t make it feel generic.

MJ: I’ve definitely found it a bit jarring to realize just how much these pages adhere to a fairly strict artistic formula. It all seemed so natural when I was reading them! I suppose what this really demonstrates, though, is how much careful craft goes into creating something that can flow naturally for millions of individual readers. The visual language that Suzuki uses to tell an effective story using just a series of still drawings is key to our understanding.

Also, it’s important to remember that this kind of structure is only the framework for displaying a story to readers, and not the heart of the manga itself. Suzuki puts a soul into her story that would never be possible by way of panel formula only. The structure just makes some of the storytelling easier, by giving us visual cues our brains can process with little effort. It’s clearing the way for the heart of the story, I suppose.

MICHELLE: Oh, that’s a lovely way to put it. I mean, really, when you think about it, if a creator went to a lot of trouble to come up with some wildly innovative new way to do an establishing shot, for example, it could either not quickly make visual sense to the reader or could detract from their enjoyment by yanking them out of the story. You used the phrase “visual language,” and I think that’s exactly what we’re dealing with here.

MJ: Yes, exactly! There’s a reason you weren’t thinking about any of these things when you were first reading the book. The point of this kind of visual language is that you don’t have to. Our brains do that work automatically because we’re already fluent in the language. That’s not to say that there isn’t value in artistic innovation. Of course there is! But with a story like this, you want the focus to be on the characters and their relationships. The craft should be invisible, so as not to distract from the point at hand.

MICHELLE: All I can do is nod, because you’ve said it so well!

How does this visual language manifest itself in the pages you’ve chosen?

MJ: Reading How To Draw Shojo Manga, I was struck by how really modern it feels. All the artwork inside is very consistent with what we’ve seen coming over for the past few years, so I thought it might be fun to look at something a little older, as well as something that falls well outside the romance genre, which is what we mostly see these days. To that end, I dug out a volume of CLAMP’s Tokyo Babylon, which is about fifteen years older than Karakuri Odette (give or take) and, though there’s a sort-of-romance element involved, leans heavily towards dark fantasy.

Tokyo Babylon, Volume 6, Pages 109-109 (TOKYOPOP)

Here in the first set of pages, the story’s protagonist, Subaru, is clearly waking from a nightmare. You can see that, like Suzuki, CLAMP is also using varied panel sizes to establish rhythm, as well as a number of different camera angles for cluing us in to Subaru’s state of mind. The contrast between Subaru’s dramatic awakening and the realization that he’s very much alone is especially effective, I think. At the bottom of the first page, we feel his unsteadiness as he pulls back the curtains to let light into the room, and then our eyes are drawn easily to the top left by the reflection of his hand in the mirror, given emphasis by its position in the foreground of the panel.

As the image of Subaru’s sister enters the scene, the panel frames fall away, leaving her sitting freely on the page, indicating both a change of scene and a sunnier, more open space, in contrast to the darkness of everything that comes before. While this bottom left panel lacks the “cliffhanger” feel we saw in the Karakuri Odette pages, this change of time and place gives us a compelling reason to turn the page.

MICHELLE: I agree that the moment of Subaru’s lonely awakening is striking—even though it’s so much smaller than the panel below it, it still packs more of an emotional wallop, I think.

Are you familiar with the musical concept of an agogic accent? In one type, a note is accented simply by being delayed for a fraction of a beat. In other words, it stands out all the more because it’s been given a little bit of space. The bottom-left image of Hokuto reminds me of the same idea—because we’ve busted out of the panel framework and given her some space, she seems all the more significant. The white background behind her does a nice job of evoking happier days, as well.

MJ: Oh, what a perfect analogy, Michelle! Yes, I think this is exactly the same concept, applied to visual art. I suppose if you think about it, music and comics have something in common, both being sequential in a manner of speaking.

The first page here is drenched in light, with almost no background detail at all, aside from the mirror and one look at the floorboards, both of which help establish that the scene takes place in the same room that Subaru woke up in. It’s a warm scene in every way, from the brightly lit room to Hokuto’s cheerful dialogue. It would really be the sweetest scene in the world, if our eyes were not inevitably drawn to the heavy darkness of the top left panel.

Hokuto’s still there, of course, but it’s obvious that something is horribly wrong, with Subaru reduced to a tiny figure, trapped in the darkness with his own mirror image. I say “trapped,” because that’s what this feels like to me, with the oppressive darkness surrounding Subaru and the mirror. This feels even more dramatic to me than the lonely image on the first page–an impression enhanced by the violent panel that follows.

Again, we’re not seeing a cliffhanger here. This feels more like a period than an ellipsis, if that makes sense, though it’s pretty effective as is.

MICHELLE: In a way, CLAMP is using some of the same techniques mentioned in How to Draw Shojo Manga on these two pages. Using just enough background to establish the scene—”About one or two panels with backgrounds per page is good,” quoth page 86—and placing a striking image on the top left. And wow, there is just really no escaping the gloom of that left-side panel! Even if you’re not looking at it directly, it certainly registers and tinges one’s read of the brighter page with expectation of sorrow.

MJ: Oh, well said! Yes, it makes the bright panels bittersweet simply by being in the peripheral vision of that page.

I expect what we’re seeing here is just how basic and long-standing these visual techniques are, even the background guidelines which seem very specific to shoujo manga. It seems likely that these things became part of the rule due to their effectiveness in practice, rather than the other way around, and I expect we’d see most of these techniques utilized in any country’s long-form comics.

MICHELLE: Oh, definitely. These aren’t arbitrary rules imposed by some official body—they’re effective techniques distilled from what has come before. I could blather on with more comparisons to music here, but perhaps I’ll save that for another day!

Thank you for tuning in to this month’s column. If you have examples of shoujo techniques in practice you’d like to share, or opinions of where we’ve gone right or wrong, please join in the discussion! We’d love to hear from you.

BL Bookrack: Yaoi for the New Year

January 26, 2011 by Michelle Smith 6 Comments

Welcome to 2011’s first BL Bookrack, a monthly feature co-written with Soliloquy in Blue‘s Michelle Smith.

This month, we take a look at three offerings from Digital Manga Publishing’s Juné imprint, No Touching at All, volume one of Treasure, and volume two of The Tyrant Falls in Love, as well as BLU Manga’s You & Me, ETC..

No Touching At All | By Kou Yoneda | Published by Juné | Rated Mature (18+) | Buy at Akadot – The chief characteristic of No Touching At All is one that simultaneously boosts and deflates my enthusiasm for this well-done one-shot—it reminds me a lot of Future Lovers. Now, on the one hand, this is high praise, because Future Lovers is one of the best BL series I have ever read. On the other hand, being compared to something so awesome makes the very few complaints I have about No Touching At All stand out more than they ordinarily would.

Toshiaki Shima is awfully serious for a 26-year-old. When he reports to his new job and discovers that the stinky drunk he met in the elevator is his boss, Togawa, he’s less than enthused. Togawa is pretty insistent on getting to know his new employee, though, and somehow, after an evening out, the two end up in bed. Afterwards, Shima is upset. “I never learn,” he laments.

It turns out that Shima resigned from his previous job because the straight coworker with whom he’d been having an affair began to lob accusations of sexual harrassment towards Shima in order to save face. Shima’s tortured by that experience, and even when Togawa tells him quite plainly that his feelings have grown into love, Shima can’t believe it. Early in their relationship, Togawa expressed a desire for a family, and this conversation dogs Shima throughout the volume, making him certain that soon Togawa will tire of him and cast him aside.

This is similar to the plight facing the two leads in Future Lovers, but I think the constant reiteration of the theme here gets a bit repetitive. Both characters are very well-developed, so it’s not hard to sympathize with Shima, prickly and awkward though he may be, but man, that guy can angst!

I do like that the resolution to the story is satisfying, even though the couple’s problems haven’t been tied up in a neat little bow. This is something they’re going to have to deal with, and if there was ever a BL story I wanted a sequel to, this is it! In fact, even though I read an online review copy furnished by the publisher, I liked this so well that I plan to shell out my own hard-earned cash for a print copy when it gets released.

So, no. It’s no Future Lovers. But it is a story of two professional adults trying to have a relationship while dealing with their own personal baggage, a recipe for the very best kind of BL. Highly recommended.

-Review by Michelle Smith

Treasure, vol.1 | By Riyu Yamakami | Published by Juné | Rated YA (16+) | Buy at Akadot – Raised by his grandmother in a remote island village, teenaged Naoyuki is shipped off to the big city to live with relatives who can help give him “a broader perspective on things.” And though a “broader perspective” is indeed what Naoyuki receives, it’s probably safe to say that being coerced into exchanging sexual favors for tutoring wasn’t what grandma had in mind.

The “tutor,” Naoyuki’s older cousin Satoshi, is a tall, gorgeous bully, who loves to mock Naoyuki for his country-bumpkin ways nearly as much as he loves to bone him. And if you think I’ve had my fill of emotionally abusive, semi-incestuous love interests, you wouldn’t be wrong.

Mangaka Riyu Yamakimi pushes the envelope here by providing Naoyuki with a possessive lech both at home and at school, where Naoyuki meets sweet-faced Seitaro, who’s so determined to make “Nao” his, he follows him all around the school grounds, screeching things like, “What can I do to make you love me?”

With two such charming men in pursuit, is it any wonder that Naoyuki ends up passed out in the nurse’s office just a few weeks into school?

The story’s one saving grace is its protagonist, Naoyuki, who isn’t afraid to jump out of a second-story window to evade an unwanted suitor, or to punch out a roomful of would-be gang-rapists. And though it’s undeniably disappointing to watch him trudge down the well-worn path of BL heroes who fall in love with their harrassers, at least he gets in a few good swings on the way.

Yamakimi’s artwork is simple, but surprisingly effective, conveying a level of darkness that one might otherwise think she was entirely unaware of. If only she’d been willing to embrace that a bit further, what reads now as “disturbing romance” might have graduated to just “disturbing,” which would be a marked improvement in my book.

Maybe next time?

-Review by MJ

The Tyrant Falls in Love, vol. 2 | By Hinako Takanaga | Published by Juné | Rated Mature (18+) | Buy at Akadot – This volume opens two months after the end of the last, with absolutely nothing of a sexual nature having occurred between Morinaga and his tyrant in that time. Finally reaching critical desperation, Morinaga jumps Tatsumi in the lab, only to discover that Tatsumi’s been waiting to see how long it would take him in order to determine the frequency of their future encounters.

While the ensuing bout of haggling could easily read as just plain crass, Hinako Takanaga’s sharp sense of humor keeps the banter running smoothly and hilariously. The volume then takes a serious turn, as Morinaga’s estranged family launches a campaign to bring him back home for his older brother’s wedding, despite their continued refusal to accept his sexuality.

Man, I hate to admit that I’m wrong, but at least with manga, there’s a bright side to it all. After my overall dismay with this series’ first volume, nothing could possibly have surprised me more than my sincere enjoyment of the second. Though the series still wades into the murky waters of nonconsensual sex, this time, the main characters’ intimate history and visible affection really steal the show, even during the story’s roughest moments. While this dynamic was certainly present in volume one, it wasn’t quite enough to cover for its unfortunate romantic trajectory. But even with that damage already done, Takanaga’s wonderfully rich characterization is enough to rescue the series.

Morinaga is more genuinely relatable in this volume, still ruled by his sexual urges but revealing some real thoughtfulness about his own feelings, particularly when confronted by a painful memory from the past. It’s Tatsumi who really shines here, though, finally letting some of his own feelings show, at least enough so that even a cranky, jaded reader like me might actually believe he loves Morinaga.

Despite the series’ over-the-top sensibility, there’s a real subtlety to Takanaga’s storytelling that displays some pretty powerful craft behind the flailing. Her artwork, too, is especially expressive here, even in the throwaway side story at the end of the book.

There’s no doubt that The Tyrant Falls in Love was one of 2010’s most eagerly-anticipated English-language BL releases. It’s nice to finally be able to understand why.

-Review by MJ

You & Me, Etc. | By Kyugo | Published by BLU Manga | Rated Mature (18+) | Buy at Amazon – It can be hard to know what to expect with a collection of boys’ love short stories. Sometimes all are unappealing—the tales in Hinako Takanaga’s A Capable Man come to mind—but more often they’re a mixed bag. It’s much more rare for every story in a collection to actually be good, but You & Me, Etc. achieves this feat.

The collection is bookended by two stories about a pair of childhood friends, Keita Kanai and Iku Kirishima. They did everything together as they were growing up, including joining the junior high baseball team, but when Keita is injured in a car accident and can no longer play, guilt-ridden Iku gives up the game as well. Not only that, he distances himself from Keita and cultivates the air of a misanthropic loner. “Someday We…” recounts Keita’s efforts not to let their friendship slip away, and a dramatic scene in which he pleads for a return to closeness ultimately ends in a kiss. In the title story, the boys are unsure how to proceed from this moment, but end up working things out.

It sounds simple when described thusly, but there are plenty of moments that show how much the boys care for each other, and some amusing panels, as well. Two female characters play important roles—indeed, the first page features Keita’s girlfriend complaining that he doesn’t seem interested in making out with her—and I just generally love couples comprised of one seemingly surly guy and one more cheerful one. There’s a recurring theme of Iku showing rare vulnerability by clutching at Keita’s sleeve that’s nicely done, as well.

The other stories are equally as strong. “Cherry Blossom Pilgrimage” isn’t even a romance, though there are hints one could develop in time. Takahisa Sugaya is a ladies’ man, with plenty of girls but no real friends. He’s a bit of a slacker and is sure that upwardly mobile Yuu Fujishiro, generally considered to be the heir to the class presidency, would have nothing to do with someone like him. That is, until he discovers that Fujishiro is having a relationship with a male teacher. A genuine friendship develops between the boys, since Fujishiro doesn’t have to worry about appearing perfect when with Sugaya, and I would have liked to have read more about these two.

Indeed, that’s my one complaint—the stories end too quickly! Only the longest, the two-part “A Beautiful Tomorrow,” feels like it had enough time to develop. It’s the story of a famous writer who encounters the son of a former professor who has been cast out of his home by his step-mother after his father’s death. Their relationship builds slowly and naturally and, like the fellows in the title story, they’re never shown doing more than kissing. In fact, the volume earns its mature rating due to heterosexual content, not for the BL!

You & Me, Etc. was a very pleasant surprise. Kyugo doesn’t seem to have written too many original works, but her work is certainly impressive. I hope we see more of it soon!

-Review by Michelle Smith

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Review copies provided by the publisher.

PotW: Great reads for a wintery week

January 25, 2011 by Katherine Dacey, Michelle Smith, MJ and David Welsh 2 Comments

It’s a pretty full week for manga, according to Midtown Comics. So bundle up, pour some cocoa, and take a look at this week’s Picks from the Manga Bookshelf bloggers and special guest Michelle Smith!

From Michelle: Wow, there’s quite a lot coming out this week! I’ll be buying several items on the list—I’ve been waiting for the second volume of Close the Last Door for a long time, and hoarding volumes of Gakuen Alice for probably about as long—but the release that most excites me is the second volume of Yuuki Fujimoto’s The Stellar Six of Gingacho. The first volume was surprisingly charming, and actually made me verklempt in its portrayal of six friends who drifted apart in middle school but reunite to help a neighbor in need. Bonus points for its positive depiction of an overweight character! I’ve been eagerly awaiting this second volume, so its purchase is a no-brainer!

From MJ: I have to agree with Michelle, there’s a lot worth buying this week! Big draws for me include new volumes of Bride of the Water God (Dark Horse), Pandora Hearts (Yen Press), and Michelle’s Pick, The Stellar Six of Gingacho (TOKYOPOP). I think this week, though, my Pick will have to be one that doesn’t appear on Midtown Comics’ list, but whose arrival was announced by the publisher via Twitter, volume thirteen of Osamu Tezuka’s Black Jack from Vertical, Inc. I got into Black Jack later than most. After receiving a copy of volume ten, I marathoned the series from the beginning to catch up, and I’ve been hooked ever since. Black Jack (like Dororo) is rare among what I’ve read of Tezuka’s work as a series I’d feel comfortable recommending to nearly anyone (teen or older), even as a first comic. It’s immediately compelling, easy to jump into at nearly any point, and though the story and its protagonist can both get quite dark, its episodic structure allows that to be consumed in small doses, to taste.

From David: I’m going to step out of my usual wheelhouse, whatever that is, and pick a yaoi title this week. It’s not that there isn’t a lot of manga in this category that I enjoy; it’s more a case that I tend to have to put titles through a fairly careful vetting process to make sure they eschew some popular plot elements that can sour a yaoi title for me. But based on some Twitter chatter from reliable sources like Kristin Bomba and Danielle Leigh, I’m going to make a point of seeking out Kou Yoneda’s No Touching At All (Digital Manga). According to Danielle, this one can be summarized thusly: “Adults acting like adults fall in love.” And that is pretty much exactly my yaoi wheelhouse. I’m very favorably inclined toward salaryman yaoi.

From Kate: For me, this week’s must-buy title is the eighth volume of Pet Shop of Horrors Tokyo (Tokyopop). The premise is pure comeuppance theater: troubled people seek out the eccentric Count D, who furnishes them with exotic “pets” — usually, a demon or magical creature with shape-shifting abilities — that are always more than the buyer bargained for. What makes these little morality plays work so well is that Matsuri Hino doesn’t just punish her characters for being weak, vain, or foolish; she explores what drove them to seek Count D’s help in the first place. The results are much more nuanced and unpredictable than most stories in the wish-granting-emporium genre, and can be genuinely moving. Best of all, you don’t need any background on Count D to fully appreciate what’s happening; aside from a few perfunctory scenes documenting his run-ins with local authorities, the stories are self-contained.

So readers, what are your picks this week?

Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season Eight 6 by Jane Espenson: B-

January 24, 2011 by Michelle Smith

From the back cover:
Twilight and his gainfully employed military units are hot on Buffy’s magical trail—forcing her and Slayers across the globe into hiding. Buffy retreats into the Tibetan mountains to seek aid from the only person she knows who can suppress his true nature—Oz. Since Oz left Sunnydale he’s gained control over the magic that transforms him with the phases of the moon from man to werewolf. If Buffy, Willow, and the legion of Slayers give up their magic, Twilight might lose their scent, granting them a moment of peace, quiet, and tranquility.

Review:
Before I reread the “Retreat” arc, my memories of it went like this: Buffy and friends go see Oz in Tibet; some huge, brightly colored goddesses are involved; and Buffy discovers that she can fly. Weary of unnecessary cameos—although I genuinely do love Oz—and wary of Buffy’s new ability, I didn’t like this much the first time around.

Though it improves upon a second read, it straddles that line between “what I will agree to consider as canon” and “just somebody’s convoluted fanfic.” Obviously, I know that I am just one opinionated fan among many, but what I’m getting at is that some stuff happens that I genuinely like, and some stuff happens that I’m not crazy about.

After their castle in Scotland was destroyed by a magical bomb, courtesy of Twilight’s minions, Amy and Skinless Warren, the Slayers have been looking for new digs. Public opinion is against them, thanks to Harmony’s current popularity, so they find a secluded sort of bunker, shielded by a woodsy magical illusion. Alas, Twilight hones in on this magic and attacks again, causing them to teleport to the one person they know who has successfully divested himself of magic: Oz.

It’s good to see Oz again, don’t get me wrong, but I’d be happier about it if his return hadn’t come after lesser characters like Ethan Rayne and Dracula. He’s settled down with a “mate” and has a child, and one of the saddest things about this arc is how Buffy descends upon his peaceful life, bringing war and death along with her once Twilight tracks them down yet again.

But before that happens, there’s a peaceful lull during which the Slayers and Willow participate in various chants and physical chores designed to direct their magical powers into the Earth. This allows plenty of time for character-building moments and amusing dialogue, my favorite being the interaction between Giles and the baby. Like so:

Baby: Ga!
Giles: Yes, hello, baby.

and

Baby: (steals Giles’ glasses) Gaha!
Giles: Oh dear.

On a more serious note, Buffy finally tells her friends about her encounter with Dark Willow in the future, which prompts some interesting reactions. Willow confidently swears it couldn’t possibly have been her, but meanwhile, Giles and Andrew are suspicious—especially given Willow’s dark methods of obtaining intel—and begin watching her. Also, just as Buffy begins to ponder wanting to connect with someone, and begins to think Xander might just fit the bill, he and Dawn finally get around to smooching. I might be in the minority here, but I like this pairing, especially since they’ve been shown to have developed a very solid friendship. Given her track record, it’s hard to say whether Buffy’s feelings are genuine or if she’s just lonely.

And speaking of Buffy and decision-making, it’s her choices that have ultimately led to a terrible massacre. True, there were no good alternatives, but she’s entirely responsible for bringing ruin to Oz’s tranquil existence, first by making his home a target for Twilight and his minions, then turning its environs into a battlefield, and finally by summoning some local goddesses—those to whom all that poured-into-the-earth magic was actually going—who kill indiscriminately. As with the Xander situation, this is not out of character for Buffy at all—part of why she’s lovable is that, even though she’s special, hers is an extremely tough role that nobody would envy—but it’s pretty depressing all the same.

I also have trouble believing that anyone thought getting rid of magical defenses—which includes the Slayers’ strength—would be a good idea when they are the target of a massive military operation. I suppose there was the chance that it would keep them hidden, but it doesn’t seem like they bothered to fully investigate the ramifications. A scene in which automatic weapons and grenades are passed out is just really weird, given Whedon’s stance on guns throughout the series.

Although I have issues with it, this arc is ultimately better than I remembered. Most of the fallout from Xander and Dawn and Buffy’s superpowers will come in the next volume, which is a plus, but there will be much crack, as well.

Immortal Rain 3-5 by Kaori Ozaki: A-

January 22, 2011 by Michelle Smith

It’s been a year since I read the first two volumes of Immortal Rain, and though I was initially somewhat lost when I started the third, the heartbreaking nature of Rain’s backstory immediately pulled me back in.

Hints had been sprinkled through the first two volumes, but here we get the whole, terrible story. We learn about Rain’s relationship with Freya—the woman he once loved—and with Yuca, the friend with a dark secret that would ultimately lead to Freya’s death and Rain being cursed with immortality. Yuca is similarly cursed himself, being reborn over and over again while conscious of the memories of all his past lives. He’s ready for this cycle to end—ready for the whole world to end, in fact—and so has chosen Rain to be his perpetual executioner.

It’s Rain’s task to wait for Yuca’s rebirth, which he’s been doing for 600 years so far. If Rain feels like humanity is worth saving, then he must kill Yuca to protect them. If he should weary of humanity and the way they treat him, he can join forces with Yuca and work to end the world. Gentle soul that he is, Rain detests this duty but is resigned to it.

But then Machika comes along to complicate things, saving Rain from his loneliness but promising future sorrow. “Being with you hurts,” he tells her. “It hurts. Because you remind me of sadness.” Later he says, “You’ll disappear so quickly.” It’s one of those doomed immortal-mortal romances all over again, like Buffy and Angel or The Doctor and Rose, and I love it to bits. It’s especially satisfying that they confess their love for each other in the fourth volume, without playing any of those delaying games shoujo series often employ. In this world, loving each other isn’t enough to guarantee a happy ending.

In fact, it’s his love for Machika that weakens Rain’s resolve. He was prepared to kill Yuca—and his own heart—over and over again forever if not for her, but now he has found love. At the same time, if he doesn’t fulfill his duty and Yuca is allowed to run free, what does this mean for the world? When Yuca actually does return and Rain is unable to defeat him, Machika roams the world for a year, refusing to believe all evidence that Rain is dead and determined to find him.

It’s all very dramatic and poignant, and I enjoy it quite a lot, but sometimes it seems a little… surface-y. I can’t really explain it better than that. It’s such a quick read, and while everything seems to make sense while it’s happening, upon reflection one wonders, “Well, why does Rain love Machika?” It just doesn’t feel like we’ve had enough time with these characters when they weren’t running for their lives. This isn’t to say that their romance feels unbelievable, just that I wish this story were unfolding somewhat more slowly. The fact that some of Rain’s foes are kids is also an unwelcome note of silly in a series that otherwise has a serious, almost seinen, kind of feeling to it.

In the year since my first review, there’s been nary a peep from TOKYOPOP regarding the future of this series. The series doesn’t come out too quickly in Japan—the latest is still the tenth volume, which was released in October 2009—so it’s frustrating being so close to having all of what’s currently available. I hope that, even if these volumes never merit a print release, they’ll be available via the publisher’s new print-on-demand feature. We shall see!

Off the Shelf: Karakuri Odette

January 19, 2011 by Michelle Smith and MJ 2 Comments

MICHELLE: Hello, Off the Shelf readers! MJand I are devoting this week’s column to Karakuri Odette, the topic for this month’s Manga Moveable Feast hosted at Manga Report. I had read some of this series before the MMF was announced, but MJnever had. That has since been rectified!

MJ, it has taken a lot of self-control not to pester you with repeated, “Did you like it? Did you like it?” inquiries this past week. And of course I’d like to know that, but I’d also like to ask what you expected Karakuri Odette might be like going into it and how it compared to your expectations.

MJ: I have to say that I actually had very few expectations going in, other than knowing that it was shoujo that you like and having a vague sense of what that means. And in those uncertain terms, I’d say it fulfilled my expectations entirely. Probably the series it most reminds me of is Kimi ni Todoke–a prime example of “shoujo Michelle likes” if there ever was such a thing. Its tone is similarly good-hearted, and there are actually quite a few similarities between Odette and Sawako in that both of them are really learning to be high school girls for the very first time. That robot Odette seems to accomplish this more easily than human Sawako says quite a bit about both of them and the worlds they inhabit.

MICHELLE: Yeah, I tend to like a lot of those good-hearted shoujo series (many of which were serialized in Margaret or one of its offshoots). And you’re absolutely right about the similarities between Odette and Sawako. Both, for example, have people around them who *like* someone, which is a concept somewhat alien to heroines who are happy enough just to have some friends! So they both must learn what liking someone actually entails. As of volume five, Odette hasn’t really figured that out yet, and Sawako gets it by volume four or so, so the human’s not too far ahead!

MJ: Well, though Odette may not have figured it out intellectually, she’s certainly got the symptoms! This is actually something I wanted to bring up with you. Odette has clearly picked up some genuine emotion along the way, and while this is certainly not a sci-fi series by any means, that’s still a pretty big deal for a robot in any universe. It seems clear, too, that mangaka Julietta Suzuki is charting a romantic course for Odette with Asao, one way or another. How do you feel about that? Does this at all impair your ability to suspend disbelief? And should Suzuki ultimately not go down that road, how will you feel about this as a shoujo manga?

I’m personally torn on both these questions, so I’m curious to hear your take on it all.

MICHELLE: Ooh, what a good question. I have vastly enjoyed Odette’s gradual acquisition of feelings, because Suzuki’s take on it has been laudably understated. Odette’s growing interest in Asao doesn’t impair my ability to suspend disbelief, because honestly I think accepting the whole robot protagonist concept in the first place means one has given blanket acceptance to all sorts of things. I like that she’s beginning to see him in this light, particularly because he was introduced as having feelings for someone else and, so far, does not seem to be thinking of Odette in a romantic light. I always admire series that go for the unexpected ending, so seeing Odette and Asao together at the end would be somewhat of a disappointment, actually. In my ideal ending, she realizes that she loves him, recognizes that he doesn’t love her, and is totally happy that she understands the feeling, even if it must remain unrequited.

An even worse case scenario than Odette ending up with Asao would be to see her paired up with either of the robot boys who seem interested in her. Chris is just too bland, and Travis just too flamboyant.

MJ: Poor Chris! He works so hard only to be labeled “bland!” ;) I think Chris is an especially sympathetic character, actually, because he’s most likely not capable of ever understanding Odette fully or catching up with her at all. He’s simply not an advanced enough robot. Yet if there’s anything he’s learned to actually want it is to please Odette so that he can continue to be with her. It’s subtly written and heartbreaking to watch. And really not that different from some tragic human relationships I’ve seen in my day.

MICHELLE: Well, when you put it that way! Poor Chris, indeed! It’s not that I dislike him—perhaps what I mean is that a relationship with Asao would be more challenging for Odette and prompt further progress toward humanity. Though, of course, I suppose it could say something creepy about Asao if he wanted to date a robot, even one as awesome as Odette.

MJ: Yes, I suppose that’s true. It’s hard to really keep a handle on concepts like that in this series’ universe, where there seem to be robots turning up all the time. This is actually the one aspect of the series I’m not completely sold on at this point. I am enjoying the story of Odette. Where better for any character to learn to be a “girl” than in the pages of a shoujo manga? But though I’ve liked most of the other robots who have turned up in the story, there have been so many of them at this point, it actually is beginning to wear on my ability to suspend disbelief. Or perhaps it’s that too many robots are muddying the waters. This may seem unreasonable, I realize. If I’ve already accepted one robot in the story, what’s keeping me from accepting five? But somehow Odette losing the uniqueness of her existence makes it progressively harder for me to take her circumstances seriously.

I like this manga, I really do. But I wish there were fewer robots. Does that make any sense at all?

MICHELLE: It does, and I get your point. It’s been a while since I read the first three volumes, but I recall a more social robot appearing there against which Odette measures herself. I suppose that’s useful for her, but the pair of robots introduced in volume five feels completely superfluous to me. There are already enough guys (human and mechanical) who are interested in Odette—we didn’t need another. I have a feeling they were introduced only as accessories to their creator, who is probably going to do something dastardly in the final volume.

MJ: Yes, I believe this feeling really did kick in with the introduction of Travis and Grace. It’s not that they’re bad characters, but they feel really incidental to Odette’s story. Honestly, I feel the same way about their sinister creator. This story doesn’t need that kind of melodrama to survive. It was so much more than that when we were just watching Odette learn how to be human.

MICHELLE: Definitely. I reviewed volumes four and five together and liked the former—which focuses largely on Odette’s friendship with sheltered rich girl, Shirayuki—much more than the latter. I wonder whether you share my affection for Shirayuki. I was quite impressed that Suzuki-sensei introduced a new significant character into the cast so seamlessly. She functions as a kind of Sawako, actually. Someone who has shunned human contact and so provides Odette a friend who is also experiencing some commonplace things for the first time.

MJ: I do like her quite a bit, yes! Though I’ve felt that since Shiayuki started attending school with Odette, the author has conveniently ignored her condition, for the most part. We’ve watched Shirayuki go through some rough times, but I can’t recall anything that’s actually had to do with the fact that she hears people’s thoughts whenever they touch her. It was supposedly this huge, terrifying issue that had cut her off from her family and society, but now that she’s in society, it seems to have ceased to exist, at least to any significant extent. So what was the problem again? I like the character, but maybe she really didn’t need that trait to be the person the author wanted to write.

MICHELLE: Yeah, I noticed that, too. And I wasn’t sure how she initially concludes Odette will never lie to her based solely on the fact that she can’t hear Odette’s thoughts, either. I think you’re right that that trait wasn’t necessary and probably Suzuki realized it, too. It must speak highly of my fondness for this series that I, usually such a stickler about plot continuity and the like, am willing to forgive and forget the mishandling of Shirayuki’s ability just because I like the character so much.

MJ: And it’s funny, you know I generally don’t care all that much about such things, so you know it all must be really, really obvious. :D Still, I’ll forgive this series nearly anything because I just really like Odette. She’s a wonderfully written character, and that’s something that hasn’t changed in the slightest over the course of the series so far. In fact, I’d say some of the best writing involving her happens in volume five, when she’s struggling over her irritation with Chris. In those moments, she’s both authentically human and authentically not at the same time. It’s brilliantly written. And while I wish the writing was more consistent, I’m not actually unhappy.

MICHELLE: I wonder, since you read Suzuki’s Kamisama Kiss first, do you prefer it over Karakuri Odette? It’s a later work, so will probably be more polished (it’s hard to tell from the single volume that’s been released in English so far) but I’m not as captivated by its lead as I am by Odette. Hopefully that will change in time.

MJ: I think that it’s really too early to tell. I’m very attached to Odette, and I barely know Nanami at all. I will say that one thing both series have in common is their sense of humor. This is actually something I wanted to be sure to bring up here, because despite the fact that Karakuri Odette is, in many ways, a standard high school shoujo series, the humor grabs me more than most. There was one bit of dialogue, for instance, that delighted me so much, I stopped to write it down. It appears near the end of volume three, when Odette has coerced Asao into going on a double-date with her at an amusement park. Startled at Odette’s choice of date, her friend Yoko asks, half jokingly, whether they need to worry that Asao (who has a reputation for fighting) might “snap and get violent all of a sudden.” Odette responds earnestly, “It’s okay. I’ve never seen any part of Asao snap off.” It’s the tiniest thing, but I actually laughed out loud. The series is full of moments like that.

MICHELLE: It is! The interaction between Odette and the Professor is frequently amusing, as well. And it’s all humor born of the characters’ personalities and not based at all on “oh, the wacky android doesn’t understand our ways” gags or something.

MJ: Yes, you’re absolutely right. Even the line I mentioned, which is certainly a symptom of Odette’s inexperience with human idioms, is not overplayed. The laugh is there, but it isn’t telegraphed in that goofy gag kind of way. It’s the simplicity and honesty of it that makes it so funny.

MICHELLE: I agree. :)

So, I talked a little about what I’d like to see in the final volume. What would you like to see happen?

MJ: This is probably going to sound like a cop-out, but with occasional exceptions, I try to avoid expecting specific outcomes when I read. In general terms, I’d like to see some kind of satisfying conclusion for Odette (whatever that might mean), and for Chris and the Professor as well, since I’ve become quite fond of the three of them. As long as it feels like an ending, though, I’m not feeling too picky about it. Sure, a romance is always nice, but problematic in this case, as you’ve pointed out. So I think I just want to see it come to a real stopping point–one that’s hopefully positive for Odette.

MICHELLE: I can’t quarrel with that!

Check in next week for January’s installment of BL Bookrack, and then again the week after for an all new Off the Shelf!

Red Dwarf: Infinity Welcomes Careful Drivers by Grant Naylor: B

January 19, 2011 by Michelle Smith

Book description:
The first lesson Lister learned about space travel was you should never try it. But Lister didn’t have a choice. All he remembered was going on a birthday celebration pub crawl through London. When he came to his senses again, he was living in a locker on one of Saturn’s moons, with nothing in his pockets but a passport in the name of Emily Berkenstein.

So he did the only thing he could. Amazed to discover they would actually hire him, he joined the Space Corps—and found himself aboard Red Dwarf, a spaceship as big as a small city that, six or seven years from now, would get him back to Earth. What Lister couldn’t foresee was that he’d inadvertently signed up for a one-way jaunt three million years into the future—a future which would see him the last living member of the human race, with only a hologram crewmate and a highly evolved Cat for company. Of course, that was before the ship broke the light barrier and things began to get really weird…

Review:
Red Dwarf: Infinity Welcomes Careful Drivers retells a handful of episodes from the first two seasons of the BBC sci-fi comedy, Red Dwarf, and provides additional background information on its two main characters, priggish Arnold J. Rimmer and slovenly Dave Lister.

For those unfamiliar with the show, it takes place aboard the mining ship Red Dwarf. Rimmer is a lowly technician—just about the lowest rank on the ship, tasked with things like unclogging chicken soup nozzles on vending machines—and his only underling is Lister. While Lister is in stasis as punishment for smuggling a (pregnant) cat on board, Rimmer causes an accident that floods the ship with radiation, killing the entire crew.

It takes three million years for the radiation to reach levels safe enough for the computer to let Lister out, which triggers an iconic scene wherein Lister wanders around while the computer, Holly, repeats, “Everybody’s dead, Dave,” with varying inflections until the Liverpudlian finally gets it. Holly brings Rimmer back as a hologram, judging him to be the companion best suited to keep Lister sane, and they soon discover that the cat’s descendants have evolved into a highly fashion-conscious civilization, of which only one member now remains. Episodic silliness ensues.

The book follows this basic outline, too, but adds some scenes to flesh out the characters. For example, rather than meeting Rimmer and Lister aboard the ship, we first encounter them on Mimas, one of Saturn’s moons, in a scene in which Lister has stolen the equivalent of a taxi and picks Rimmer up as a fare. We learn that Lister joined the Space Corps solely as a means of getting back to Earth—and purposefully got caught with the cat so that he’d be put in stasis and the journey home would feel shorter—and receive additional insight on Rimmer’s desperation to become an officer. Both benefit from this treatment and emerge as more sympathetic characters.

Not every episode from the first two seasons is represented—Lister isn’t shown taking the chef’s exam in order to outrank Rimmer, for example—but some, like “Future Echoes,” are included almost verbatim. Because of this structure, there’s not so much a cohesive plot as a string of linear events, culminating in the crew believing that they’ve managed to return to Earth. The material, both old and new, provides quite a few giggles, but can also be extremely unfunny, like when Rimmer and his holographic double squabble interminably.

In addition, a few changes have been made that outright contradict the show. The captain, once male, is now female. Although Lister never was able to tell his long-time crush, Kristine Kochanski, about his feelings on the show, in the book they enjoy a month-long fling. There’s no obvious reason for these alterations, but it’s better to think Grant Naylor—the pseudonym adopted by the show’s creators, Rob Grant and Doug Naylor—made them for some purpose rather than merely by accident.

What this all boils down to is that the content of this book is decently entertaining, though not excellent, and probably deserves somewhere in the vicinity of a B-, which is the grade it likely would have received had I read the print edition. But I didn’t. Instead, Hubby and I listened to the unabridged audiobook read by Chris Barrie (the actor who portrayed Rimmer) and holy freakin’ crap! He was amazing!

Okay, true, Barrie mispronounces the occasional word—“irrevocably” being the most egregious—but his skill in impersonating his castmates is truly incredible. So good, in fact, that I found myself thinking, “I can’t wait until they discover Cat so I can hear Chris Barrie do his voice!” Every single one is great, and though Kryten is perhaps the most eerily accurate, I found myself most transported by Barrie’s take on Lister. Many, many times I forgot that I was not actually listening to Craig Charles in the part.

Barrie’s performance bumps the grade up a notch, and I’d go so far as to say that one should eschew the print edition entirely. He really does bring that much to one’s enjoyment of the book.

Tidbits: Catching Up with Shojo Beat

January 18, 2011 by Michelle Smith

New and recent Shojo Beat releases are piling up, which means it’s time for another Tidbits column! In this installment, you’ll find reviews of three newer series—volume three of Dengeki Daisy, plus volumes five and six of Honey Hunt and Kimi ni Todoke: From Me to You—while two old favorites, Ouran High School Host Club and Skip Beat!, bring up the rear!

Dengeki Daisy 3 by Kyousuke Motomi: B
In one of her author’s notes, Kyousuke Motomi writes that Dengeki Daisy was originally intended to be only three chapters long. This was pretty obvious in the second volume, where the sudden introduction of a lot of plot felt pretty awkward, but things have evened out by this third volume.

Though the threat that someone is after the software that Teru Kurebayashi’s brother, Soichiro, was working on before his death persists, the focus here is mostly on Teru’s relationship with Tasuku Kurosaki, the surly custodian at her school who secretly doubles as DAISY, the anonymous contact Soichiro recommended Teru seek out in times of trouble.

Teru’s been living at Kurosaki’s place after her own was burglarized, but feels as if she’s imposing. She’s unable to tell whether he cares that she’s moving out, and he’s unable (or unwilling) to admit that he’ll miss her, so she goes through with the move, only to realize her new roommate has rented the place next door. I would find this terribly cheesy in any other series, but somehow I’m okay with it here.

Similarly, a couple who obviously has feelings for one another and yet stubbornly refuses to confess would normally annoy me, but there’s something about these two that I find sympathetic. Kurosaki’s been giving Teru mixed signals, so she can’t tell exactly what she means to him. Kurosaki has the advantage of knowing Teru’s feelings—she’s confided in DAISY—but feels unworthy because of something he did in his past that he’s unsure he’ll be forgiven for. Their relationship progresses at just the right speed, and though I might wish they’d spend less time saying mean things to one another they don’t mean, it’s nice getting both characters’ perspective on their strong feelings, rather than solely the female’s point of view.

I was a little unsure about Dengeki Daisy after the disappointing second volume, but this one has assured me that it’s a keeper.

Honey Hunt 5-6 by Miki Aihara: B-
When Honey Hunt is at its dramatastic best, it can be a fun read, but sometimes it’s so immensely frustrating I contemplate hurling it across the room.

Yura Onozuka is the daughter of celebrity parents, and after they divorce in spectacular fashion, she vows to best her mother in show business. Even though her success as an actress comes quite easily, this is still the most interesting aspect of the story, since she seems to have found something she truly enjoys and is surprisingly good at. Unfortunately, lately Yura has begun to lose focus on her career goals, instead spending most of her time mooning over her pop-star boyfriend, Q-ta.

Probably I am supposed to find the efforts of Yura’s manager, Keiichi, to break up the lovebirds sneaky and wrong, but I honestly applaud him. I find Q-ta creepy—he says things like “I wish she’d give up acting so she could be all mine”—and want to shake Yura violently by the shoulders every time she ignores someone telling her she should forget about him and concentrate on her work. As much as Q-ta wants her to give up everything to be with him, the minute he gets the chance to work with his idol, he bails on a special date without a moment’s hesitation. His career is important but hers isn’t.

What makes it worse is that when Q-ta asks Yura to accompany him to New York—even though things are starting to go quite well for her professionally—she drops everything and goes! She says at one point that she’ll at least fulfill her current obligations and graduate high school, but we never see her actually do these things. To her, it’s more important to be needed by some dude than to do something for herself. Ugh.

Honey Hunt went on hiatus after these chapters, so at present, the story remains in limbo. As much as it gets on my nerves, if the series should ever relaunch (as Aihara claims it will), I will undoubtedly continue reading in the hopes that Yura gets a clue at last.

Kimi ni Todoke: From Me to You 5-6 by Karuho Shiina: A-
Unintentionally scary-looking Sawako Kuronuma began to come out of her shell when befriended by her well-liked classmate, Shota Kazehaya, and she has recently come to realize that what she feels for him is not only admiration but love. This discovery is spurred in part by the machinations of Kurumi, another girl who loves Kazehaya.

I love how mangaka Karuho Shiina deals with Kurumi, because the girls actually end up bonding over their feelings for Kazehaya. They both like the same qualities in him—his ability to see the best in people, his honesty—and come to understand each other through their shared appreciation of the same person. If not for their rivalry, they might even have become friends, but, as Sawako wonders, would they have understood each other so well without it?

Never entirely setting aside progress between Sawako and Kazehaya, the romantic woes of Sawako’s friend, Chizu, soon take center stage. It’s pretty common for a shoujo manga to focus on the heroine’s pals once the main couple has reached a kind of stasis, but here it feels organic and not like filler (I’m talking to you, Love*Com). Sawako, having awoken to the possibilities of romance, wants for her friends to be happy, too. She believes the guy for Chizu is Ryu, a childhood friend who adores her, but Chizu’s heart belongs to Toru, Ryu’s older, newly engaged brother.

Chizu is a really fabulous character—she experiences any and all emotions with gusto, and somehow appears tough and girly simultaneously—and easily carries the story about her unrequited love. Like Sawako, I think Ryu’s the guy for her, and I would totally read a spin-off manga about the two of them. Chizu’s starring turn gives me hope for a similarly illuminating focus on Ayane, who seems to have no difficulty acquiring boyfriends but hasn’t yet managed to find love.

Ouran High School Host Club 15 by Bisco Hatori: B
The president of the Host Club, Tamaki Suoh, has been uncharacteristically serious lately, so the other members organize a Curry Creation Orienteering Tournament to cheer him up, with the secondary purpose of teaching a new student how to express her own opinions. Lesson learned, she promptly disappears, but not before Tamaki admits to her (and himself) that he’s in love with Haruhi and “probably [has] been for a long time.”

Later, Hunny and Mori, the two third-years in the club, announce that they’re about to graduate and that they’ll be pursuing different majors at Ouran’s affiliated university. The fact that mangaka Bisco Hatori has finally acknowledged the passage of time is a sign that the series is winding down, and I am amused by some of the characters’ baffled reactions. “For some reason I feel as though we’ve spent several long years together already,” muses Haruhi.

For the most part, this is all hijinks as usual, but Ouran can usually be counted upon for at least a few pages of genuine romantic progress between good-hearted but excitable Tamaki and pragmatic Haruhi. On a couple of occasions throughout in the volume, Haruhi tentatively reaches out to comfort Tamaki, who’s always spazzing about one thing or another, only to withdraw at the last moment. Finally, in a very sweet scene, she discovers him dozing in the club room and pats his hair while he sleeps. That might not seem like much, but for someone as undemonstrative as Haruhi, it’s truly a significant step! Moments like that are what keep me reading this series.

Skip Beat! 21-22 by Yoshiki Nakamura: B+
Skip Beat! is one of those series that doubles as a panacea for me; I highly recommend it for raising one’s spirits when one has been sidelined with a stomach bug.

Kyoko Mogami has achieved a small measure of success as an actress, most notably as Mio, a villainous role in a drama. She’s been tapped to essentially recreate that character for a new drama, but it just doesn’t feel right. These two volumes deal with Kyoko’s efforts to get into her new role, Natsu, and differentiate her from Mio. Meanwhile, the director is demanding, her co-stars are snooty, and one in particular seems bent on getting Kyoko fired.

The process of Kyoko learning to understand and then wholly inhabit a role always makes for a great read. For help, she turns to the more experienced Ren Tsuruga—a successful actor who loves Kyoko but keeps mum because of their age difference—and with only a little bit of scolding and advice ends up discovering the essential qualities that make Natsu tick.

I love how Nakamura draws Kyoko in character, too—she’s clearly identifiable as the same person, but her expressions and body language change completely. Maybe the awed reactions from the director and co-stars are a little much once she returns with her new take on the part, but I can’t be bothered to care. Skip Beat! is a story about a talented girl who works very hard to achieve her goals—who doesn’t want to see her succeed in spectacular fashion?

Review copies for Honey Hunt 6 and Skip Beat! 22 provided by the publisher.

The Railway Children by E. Nesbit: A

January 16, 2011 by Michelle Smith

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.