Manga Bookshelf

Discussion, Resources, Roundtables, & Reviews

Michelle Smith

Ouran High School Host Club 12 by Bisco Hatori: B+

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ouran12From the back cover:
Hikaru and Kaoru’s fight over Haruhi is taking its toll on Hunny and Mori, who are trying to watch over the estranged twins. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Tamaki, Kyoya starts looking for Tamaki’s mother in France.

Review:
Three plot threads are simultaneously underway in this volume, though they converge nicely by the end. In the first, Kyoya is using the class trip to France to look for Tamaki’s mother. In the second, Kaoru and Hikaru are fighting over their feelings for Haruhi and Kaoru launches a plan to spur Hikaru into action. And in the third, Tamaki is trying to decide what he wants to do with his life, and a job offer from his dad gives him a lot to consider.

Although I like the twins and enjoyed the chapters focusing on them—wherein Kaoru rightly sees the need for him and Hikaru to establish themselves as individuals but has a rather convoluted way of going about it—the heart of this series for me will always be Haruhi and Tamaki. Tamaki has backed out on the class trip to France at the last minute, but everyone else believes he has gone. There’s a priceless scene around the middle of the book where Haruhi’s on the phone with Kyoya asking how Tamaki’s doing and then spots him lurking in front of her house. There’s a lot more to the scene than that, but I don’t want to spoil it.

Haruhi and Tamaki proceed to have a lovely scene with just the two of them, wherein he gives her license to ask anything about his childhood. He also confides in her that his desire to make people happy comes from a vow to his mother and that he’d also like to carry this oath further into a career. Haruhi’s encouragement clearly means the world to him, and it’s also clear that Haruhi admires him and is getting a bit flustered in his presence (something that completely failed to happen during an outing with Kaoru in the volume’s earlier chapters). When Kyoya is later able to report that Tamaki’s mother is doing well (sniffle alert!), Tamaki decides to embrace his place in the Suoh family and accept his father’s offer to work with a chain of hotels the Suoh corporation owns.

So here we have a volume that features several characters maturing, two reticent characters displaying fondness for Tamaki, a classic bit of comedy, and a scene that brought tears to my eyes. I guess that may not seem like much, but for a largely episodic series like this one, it really is quite a lot. It also, as someone mentions in uncredited narration, is starting to feel like the beginning of the end. I think the timing’s perfect—we’ve had quite a while to enjoy these characters in a variety of situations and now it’s time for some of them to grow up enough to realize that it’s not a bad thing if relationships evolve from their current states. From all present indicators, it would seem the ending is shaping up to be a satisfying one.

The Floating Admiral by Certain Members of the Detection Club: B-

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TheFloatingAdmiralBook description:
In 1932, thirteen members of London’s exclusive Detection Club—including notables like Dorothy L. Sayers, G. K. Chesteron, and Agatha Christie—decided to undertake a challenging project. As Sayers writes in her introduction, “The problem was made to approach as closely as possible to a problem of real detection. Except in the case of Mr. Chesteron’s picturesque Prologue, which was written last, each contributor tackled the mystery presented to him in the preceding chapters without having the slightest idea what solution or solutions the previous authors had in mind.” Various rules were imposed upon the authors to insure they dealt fairly with the difficulties left by their predecessors, and each author was required to submit his own proposed solution of the mystery (collected in an appendix). The end product was the story of the River Whyn, which “bore so peacefully between its flowery banks the body of the floating admiral.”

Review:
When the body of retired Admiral Penistone (it took me ages to stop giggling at that name) is found drifting along the River Whyn in the vicar’s boat, the investigation, led by Inspector Rudge, focuses primarily on his tough-as-nails niece, her fiancé turned sudden husband, and a disgraceful incident earlier in the Admiral’s military career. Each of the thirteen writers throws in some other random clues as well, be they footprints, missing documents, possible forgeries, et cetera.

The result is surprisingly coherent for something with so many collaborators. Occasionally, there’s a bit of a jolt as a new hand takes over and bends events to their own interpretation, but it’s usually not too jarring (see next paragraph for an exception). One, perhaps unintended, result is that there’s more of an emphasis on explaining the meaning of strange clues than on crafting memorable characters. Rudge’s personality changes a bit in early chapters and eventually settles on simply bland. The author who finally brings a human touch to the story is Dorothy L. Sayers; I’d say her chapter’s the best of the lot and does the most to set the mystery on its ultimate path.

While most transitions are relatively seamless, one particular author, Milward Kennedy, seemingly sets out with the aim to correct what has gone before. Under his stewardship, Rudge doubts testimony he’d previously accepted and suddenly realizes, “Hey, I have a constable and a sergeant sitting around back at the boathouse. Maybe they could do something instead of me running all over the place myself.” It’s a necessary redirection, but the execution is rather awkward.

The lengthy final chapter offers a convoluted explanation for all that has gone before. It’s not really a satisfying ending—I can’t decide whether it’s ingenious or just silly—but it hangs together, at least, which is to be admired.

As a mystery and a novel, The Floating Admiral is merely okay. As an experiment, though, it’s a qualified success.

M Is for Magic by Neil Gaiman: A-

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misformagicFrom the back cover:
Master storyteller Neil Gaiman presents a breathtaking collection of tales for younger readers that may chill or amuse, but that always embrace the unexpected:

* Humpty Dumpty’s sister hires a private detective to investigate her brother’s death.

* A teenage boy who has trouble talking to girls finds himself at a rather unusual party.

* A boy raised in a graveyard makes a discovery, and confronts the much more troubling world of the living.

Review:
In the style of Ray Bradbury, who collected selected short stories for a younger audience into the anthologies R Is for Rocket and S Is for Space, Neil Gaiman presents M Is for Magic. Most of the stories are available in other compilations—namely Smoke and Mirrors and Fragile Things—but there are a few exceptions. The stories cover a wide variety of topics, from fairy tails to Arthurian legend, from graveyard denizens to awkward teens, and employ a variety of styles, like the hard-boiled detective narrative of “The Case of the Four and Twenty Blackbirds” or the story-within-a-story structure of “October in the Chair.”

I don’t consider myself much of a fan of short stories, so it was no surprise when some of these failed to thrill me. The aforementioned hard-boiled story was not a favorite, for example, since I don’t much care for that genre and stories that try to be clever by citing lots of fairy tales irritate me for some reason. I also found “Sunbird,” the tale of an Epicurean club in pursuit of meat they’ve not yet tasted, to be rather long and boring, even though its ending very nearly made up for that.

Some, though, are really great, and I’ll take them in ascending order of awesomeness.

1. “How to Talk to Girls at Parties”
Shy Enn and his more suave friend, Vic, are on their way to a party, but they’ve left the directions behind. They end up finding a party, though it’s not the one they’d wanted, and Vic encourages Enn to chat up some girls, which he tries to do. This story’s fantastic twist is that each girl seems to be the embodiment of a concept, like “the universe” or “poetry,” but it also works as a metaphor for how incomprehensible the world of girls can seem to an inept teenage boy. I particularly like the bits where one girl is going on about being an alien tourist or something, and the whole time Enn’s just wondering if he should dare to put his arm around her.

2. “Troll Bridge”
At the age of seven, a young boy encounters a troll who announces his intention to eat the boy’s life. The boy bargains for his release, promising to return once he has experienced more of life. The boy encounters the troll twice more and the culmination of their final meeting is great. I admire that Gaiman allows the protagonist of this one to be a bit of a jerk, offering his first love to the troll in exchange for himself and eventually realizing that he’s incapable of loving anyone. As in “How to Talk to Girls at Parties,” Gaiman works human truth and keen observations into his fantastic works.

3. “Chivalry”
A widow makes a weekly pilgrimage to the Oxfam shop, and one day picks up a golden goblet that would look swell upon her mantel. Shortly thereafter, she’s visited by a knight on horseback, who claims to be Galahad on a quest for the Holy Grail. He offers many treasures in exchange for the grail, but none would look so fine upon the mantel in the widow’s eyes, so she refuses. Eventually, he tempts her with a fruit that would promise eternal youth and, wanting him to go away, she finally accepts some very powerful stones that would make lovely knicknacks and sends him away. I love this one for the subtlety of the widow’s reaction to the promise of the fruit and her quiet decision to resist it and continue to pursue her quiet existence.

4. “October in the Chair”
The first description of this story that comes to mind is “bloody brilliant.” We begin with a gathering of the twelve months of the year, sitting around a bonfire and telling each other stories. Each month has got a particular personality, like February, who’s a stickler for the rules, or April, who’s both cruel and sensitive. When it’s his turn, October, who is in charge this month, tells a story of a boy who’s teased by his brothers, runs away and encounters a ghost, and then possibly chooses to live a ghostly life himself. October’s story has no definitive end, which may bother some, but I thought both tales were excellent. The concept itself is supremely creative, too, and reminds me a bit of the Sandman comics.

Even though there were a few stories that didn’t do it for me, on the whole, the collection is so good that I’ll probably be checking out the compilations from which these stories were selected. I guess if anyone could make me into a short story fan, it’d be Neil Gaiman.

The Witches by Roald Dahl: A

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witchesFrom the back cover:
Grandmamma loves to tell about witches. Real witches are the most dangerous of all living creatures on earth. There’s nothing they hate so much as children, and they work all kinds of terrifying spells to get rid of them. Her grandson listens closely to Grandmamma’s stories—but nothing can prepare him for the day he comes face-to-face with The Grand High Witch herself!

Review:
Though I’ve counted Willy Wonky and the Chocolate Factory among my favorite movies for 25 years now (side note: holy crap, I am so old), I’d never actually read any of Roald Dahl’s books before The Witches, though I own several. Rest assured that I shall now be rectifying this deplorable failing forthwith.

The Witches is the story of an unnamed boy who loves to listen to his grandmamma’s tales about witches. She tells him all about how to spot a witch (even when she’s masquerading as an ordinary woman) as well as their burning desire to exterminate children, and so the boy is well able to realize his predicament when a holiday in Bournemouth coincides with the annual meeting of all the witches in England. Trapped in a ballroom with the witches as they discuss a cunning plan to turn all the children in Britain into mice, he is eventually found out and turned into a mouse himself.

Does the story end there? No, it does not. He and his grandmamma (Dahl does love these grandparent/grandkid pairings, doesn’t he?) execute a cunning plan of their own, save the children, and end up with a new quest to keep them busy for the rest of their admittedly limited life spans.

What a perfect children’s book! It’s certainly imaginative, and comes with many amusing illustrations by Quentin Blake. It avoids familiar pitfalls, like a tedious interim wherein the mouse-boy must struggle to make himself understood by humans; Dahl dispenses with this entirely by allowing the mouse to speak normally. It doesn’t shirk from darkness—the boy remains a mouse and, as such, his life expectancy is dramatically reduced. And lastly, it’s just plain riveting, for an adult as well as a kid.

Sometimes children’s fiction just doesn’t click with me, even if I like the concept, but that wasn’t a problem whatsoever with The Witches. No wonder Dahl is so beloved; turns out he’s earned every bit of it.

Vampire Knight 5-7 by Matsuri Hino: B

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vampireknight5Vampire Knight is a series with a plot that makes sense while you’re reading it, but is difficult to summarize in a coherent manner. In these three volumes, the story moves away from Zero and his angst to focus more squarely on Yuki, who is increasingly more insistent upon uncovering her missing memories. She correctly surmises that Kaname is hiding things from her and confronts him several times, only to have him evade the question. Meanwhile, whenever she attempts to remember on her own, she experiences blood-drenched hallucinations. Her visions get progressively worse, prompting Kaname to whisk her away at the end of volume seven with the words, “It’s time to wake up… before you go mad.”

vampireknight6Other things are going on in the background: political factions in the vampire world are at odds over their government, with some wanting to restore the monarchy (which would make Kaname king) and others in support of the senate; Zero is suspected of killing a pureblood vampire, but is not actually the culprit; Ichiru, Zero’s brother, enrolls at Cross Academy with the apparent goal of doing something nefarious to Yuki; and, most importantly, a rival heir to the Kuran lineage awakens and inhabits the body of his son, currently attending the school. This last personage is shaping up to be the main villain of the piece, and it’s likely that Kaname has taken various steps to both up his own power and increase Yuki’s status amongst his brethren (by acknowledging her as his lover, he essentially guarantees her a vampire guard) all in order to protect her from this creepy foe.

vampireknight7As it has progressed, the story of Vampire Knight has become increasingly engaging, and I think it’s pretty safe to say that I’m addicted by this point. Zero has stabilized somewhat—a drink of Kaname’s blood, offered solely for Yuki’s sake, has stalled the progress of his insanity—while Kaname has grown both darker and more vocal about his feelings for Yuki, declaring his love for her outright at one point. Hino has also stopped writing scenarios in which Yuki blindly rushes into a dangerous situation and then promptly requires rescue. In these three volumes, it only happens once. These factors combine to make Kaname’s feelings for Yuki more believable, thus enabling me to be more invested in their interactions, which are growing progressively more sexay. I wouldn’t say yet that I actually like Yuki, but at least I no longer feel the desire to grab her by the shoulders and shake vigorously.

The art continues to be gorgeous, dark and gloomy and full of beautifully despondent boys. Hino’s also adept at cliffhangers; the one at the end of volume seven is the most suspenseful yet. While it may not be the best shojo series in existence, Vampire Knight offers an appealing blend of angst and gloom that has me hooked.

Ghoul Trouble by John Passarella: B-

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Ghoul_TroubleFrom the back cover:
Something wicked has been preying on Sunnydale students—and whatever it is, its methods are pretty gruesome. Buffy locates some human bones that have been picked clean, and knows that she’s dealing with an unearthly evil. Some help from the Scooby Gang would be ideal, but they’ve run into trouble of their own. Oz and Xander are literally (perhaps unnaturally) mesmerized by a hottie new chick band headlining at the Bronze, and Willow has been captured by Sunnydale’s latest resident carnivores.

What they need is the Slayer. But in order to help her friends, Buffy must first dust a vampire—one that has an urgent interest in Joyce Summers, the unique ability to resist sunlight, and an open invitation to the Summers’ house…

Review:
I don’t think I even read the back cover blurb when I found this used several years ago. I think I just liked the goofy title and bought it on that fact alone. It certainly doesn’t sound very promising, does it? It turns out, though, that it’s actually pretty decent.

I’ve tallied up its various attributes into two columns: flaws and merits.

Flaws:
* The story is set in season three, but it’s hard to pinpoint exactly when it occurs. Much is made of Cordelia and Xander having broken up, which would put it after episode 3.08, “Lover’s Walk.” Willow and Oz are together, which would place it after 3.10, “Amends.” However, there’s no mention at all of why Cordelia and Xander broke up or the fact that Willow and Oz are newly reconciled, so I am uncertain. There’s no mention of Faith at all, either.

* Tying in with my first point, there’s not a lot of relationship continuity. Why not mention Xander and Willow’s illicit smoochies? There were plenty of chances, including one scene where they’re imprisoned together and she’s surprised to learn that he thinks she’s pretty. Because Wesley is nowhere in sight during scenes in the school library, this probably takes place before 3.14, “Bad Girls,” so the incident should be fresh on everyone’s mind.

* The supernatural foes are very boring. We are reminded every time we see the ghouls about their green skin and many rows of teeth, and the vampire dude, Solitaire, has cheesy affectations like leaving playing cards at the scenes of his attacks and wearing only black and red so as to represent the suits in a deck of cards. Cheesy!

Merits:
* Passarella has a really good feel for characterization and Whedony dialogue. I think it’s pretty easy to get characters like Buffy and Xander right, but when I read lines from Oz and Angel and can actually hear the characters saying them in my head, that’s a very good sign. Also, I snickered more than once.

* Action scenes are described in a manner that is easy to picture. It’s not that I enjoy details about the extent of a person’s injuries, but having a mental image of what’s going makes one feel as if one is watching an episode of the show, which I assume is the desired effect.

To sum up: the plot is dumb, but the dialogue is good. That’s not too different from many early episodes of the series, actually, and I’d ordinarily award a higher grade because of that, but Passarella really dropped the ball when it came to acknowledging the interpersonal complications among the group at this point in time. He’s written two other Buffyverse novels, both starring the cast of Angel, and I enjoyed this enough that I’ll probably seek those out as well.

Oh! My Brother 1 by Ken Saito: B-

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ohmybrother1-125Masago Kamoguchi is a normal girl: normal looks, normal grades, and normal athletic ability. But normal isn’t good enough for Masago when she’s constantly being compared to her older brother, Shiro, who is smart, good-looking, popular, and someone who draws people to him wherever he goes. As the story begins, Shiro is leading the student council in preparations for the school’s Cultural Festival and Masago is keeping a relatively low profile. All of that changes when Shiro dies saving Masago’s life and his consciousness somehow ends up sharing his sister’s body. Assuming that the incomplete plans for the festival are the “unfinished business” keeping Shiro around, Masago (with some oratorical assistance from her brother) convinces the remaining members of the student council to put aside their grief and make the festival a success in his honor. The students do just that, and though Shiro doesn’t move on as a result, that’s okay with Masago, who has decided she likes having him around.

The name Ken Saito might be familiar to some as the creator of The Name of the Flower. I like that series a lot, so I’d been looking forward to Oh! My Brother ever since the license acquisition was announced. Unfortunately, I found it to be somewhat of a disappointment. There are quite a few characters introduced all at once, and their various reactions to Shiro’s death—stemming from unrequited love or unfulfilled soccer rivalry—lack poignancy when we’ve only just met them; the tone is inconsistent, with the comedic aspect of the body-sharing predicament vying with teary moments for dominance; and I literally groaned aloud when the first page revealed the series was entering well-trod school festival territory already. Also, the relationship between the siblings is kind of icky at times: seriously, who blushes furiously when their brother gives them a peck on the cheek?

That isn’t to say it’s without good moments or the potential for a compelling story. When the successful completion of the festival fails to free Shiro’s spirit from this earthly plane, Masago realizes that his unfinished business is actually her and that his wish is for his sister to live life more fully. Of course, one of the ways in which she might do this is by allowing her feelings for Shiro’s friend, Kurouma-sempai, to flourish (and most likely be reciprocated), a path that Shiro seems determined to thwart by taking control of her body any time he thinks they’re getting too close. This dichotomy in Shiro’s intentions is interesting; I hope it’ll be explored later in the series. Also, it’s always completely clear which sibling is in control of Masago’s body at any given time, either by mannerism, expression, or dialogue. That can’t have been easy to achieve.

Artistically, Oh! My Brother has a cute style, though it’s a little too sketchy sometimes, particularly where light-haired characters are concerned. There’s one panel in particular in which a wispy-looking Masago appears right next to a solid-looking, dark-haired Kurouma-sempai. Perhaps there’s actually some deep symbolism going on here—she’s not fully here while he’s got both feet firmly on the ground?—but I rather doubt it. Also, there are a few errors in CMX’s script, a “your” that should be a “you’re,” and a “thoese” that should be either a “those” or a “these,” but definitely not both at once.

Ultimately, while I am slightly disappointed in this first volume, I plan to continue reading. Maybe this one just needs a little time to grow.

Oh! My Brother is published by CMX. The series is complete in Japan with four volumes, though only one has been published in English so far.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.

The Daughter of Time by Josephine Tey: A

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daughtertimeFrom the back cover:
Confined to a hospital bed, Scotland Yard’s Inspector Grant is engrossed with a portrait of Richard III. How is it possible, he wonders, that such a sensitive-appearing soul could have been the odious villain, the Wicked Uncle responsible for the murder of his own nephews to secure the British crown for himself? Grant reconsiders 500-year-old evidence and brilliantly arrives at a compelling new answer to one of the most intriguing mysteries in history: who really murdered the Princes in the Tower.

“For truth is rightly named the daughter of time, not of authority.” – Sir Francis Bacon

Review:
After an embarrassing accident, Inspector Grant faces an extended convalescence in a hospital bed. Helpfully minded friends have dropped off some novels, but they hold no appeal. It’s only when Grant’s friend Marta, knowing his interest in faces, brings by a selection of historical portraits that the irksome prickles of boredom begin to fade. Particularly captivating is the portrait of Richard III, whose sensitive expression speaks more of illness and suffering than the villainy for which he is chiefly remembered. His police instincts roused, and together with a research assistant (also supplied by Marta) to do the necessary leg work, Grant sets about proving whether Richard III really did murder his nephews as history claims.

Ever since reading Sharon Kay Penman’s The Sunne in Splendour, I’ve had an interest in Richard III and, if pressed, would count myself among those who believe in his innocence. The Daughter of Time comes to the same conclusion, eschewing the hearsay accounts that fill the history books—often penned by historians from the Tudor years who did not like to write too favorably about the Plantagenets—in favor of contemporary sources and, when that isn’t available, a basic understanding of human nature. Taking it one step further, Grant examines the question of who had the most to gain by the princes’ deaths, and ends up making the case that Henry VII was ultimately responsible.

The wealth of historical information required to make these points is presented in a way that’s anything but dry; on the contrary, I found it fascinating. What makes The Daughter of Time so great, though, is that the storyline in the present is also fun. In what other novel does the protagonist spend the whole of the book confined to bed, his mind challenged and engaged but his body immobile? Anyone who ventures into Grant’s room is liable to be subjected to questioning on the topic of Richard III, and indeed, it’s a member of the hospital staff whose change in opinion regarding the much-maligned monarch is the first triumph of the inspector’s efforts.

Now that I’ve read something so pro-Richard, I feel the need to achieve a balanced view by reading an account that casts him as the murderer. Look, therefore, for a review of Alison Weir’s The Princes in the Tower in the near future.

The Gentlemen’s Alliance Cross 10 by Arina Tanemura: C

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gentlemen's10After resolving some convoluted-sounding subplots involving Haine’s family—featuring maternal amnesia, uncertain paternity, and mansions afire—The Gentlemen’s Alliance Cross moves into the home stretch as Haine is pressed to finally choose between the identical twins with whom she is in love. Alas, just when she finally grasps the idea that the nice twin (Takanari) is probably a better choice than the scheming git (Shizumasa), he’s captured by his brother’s minions and imprisoned. Like any self-respecting shojo heroine, Haine vows to rescue him.

Being the penultimate volume of the series, volume ten offers a variety of dramatic moments and revelations, including arranged marriages, envelopes with surprising contents, and a tale of childhood betrayal that explains the current animosity between the twins. My favorite, though, is the surprise leukemia.

The end product of all these dire events tumbling one atop the other can be described as little else than a mess, and I was much more compelled to snicker at the ridiculous developments than sympathize with anyone involved. Still, I was pretty impressed by how easy it was to jump in and follow the story at this point and ended up liking Takanari, too, though I must question his taste in girls.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.

Vampire Knight 1-4 by Matsuri Hino: B-

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vampireknight1The first memory Yuki Cross can remember happened ten years ago when she was five: she’s attacked by one vampire but saved by another, the beautiful and pureblooded Kaname. Kaname brings the human girl to the home of a human he knows and his frequent visits throughout her childhood result in her growing very attached to him. Six years later, the introduction of a boy named Zero, sole survivor of a vampire attack against his vampire-hunting family, diverts Yuki’s attentions from Kaname somewhat, since she’s compelled to try to cure Zero of his misery and hatred. When Yuki’s adopted father decides to open Cross Academy as a way to foster peaceful relations between humans (the day class) and vampires (the night class), the three central characters attend, with Zero and Yuki serving as the disciplinary committee (tasked with keeping the peace as well as the secret about the true nature of the students in the night class) and Kaname as the main draw for the vampire contingent, since it turns out purebloods inspire devotion amongst their brethren.

vampireknight2Yuki still carries a torch for Kaname, even confesses to yearning for him, but she’s also very protective of Zero, especially when she learns his secret: as a result of the pureblood’s bite he suffered as a child, he’s turning into a vampire. What’s more, vampires that used to be humans are fated to go insane, at which time they’re hunted down by the vampire elite. Yuki, in earnest shoujo heroine fashion, declares that she will not let this happen and offers Zero her blood so that he may satisfy his cravings without preying on others. Kaname isn’t keen on this arrangement—uttering the gem of a line, “I can’t keep my composure when my dear girl has been pierced by someone else”—and knows he should rightly be preparing to hunt Zero down, but looks the other way because Zero’s the only one in the day class who could protect Yuki if danger should ensue. Aside from the introduction of the vampire responsible for killing Zero’s family, this is essentially where matters stand at the end of the fourth volume.

vampireknight3Thus far, Vampire Knight is an exceptionally pretty bowl of angsty soup that offers a sprinkling of legitimately good scenes amidst a broth of cheesy and/or eyeroll-inducing ones. Yuki is a big problem, since she is completely and totally ineffectual. She’s one of those types who’ll rush headlong into a dangerous scene, usually intent on helping, and make matters worse by getting attacked or having her anti-vampire gun plucked from her grasp within two seconds of her arrival. She’s got a special weapon—the Artemis Rod—and occasionally demonstrates feats of athletic prowess, but proves incapable of saving herself time and time again. One wonders why on earth this dismally dim girl has two hot vampire boys competing for her affections.

The boys are somewhat more compelling, though not exactly likable. Zero is perpetually unhappy and often sour in disposition, though Yuki’s fretting on his behalf occasionally inspires brief displays of affection. I don’t begrudge him his angst—he is turning into the thing he hates, after all—but his seemingly constant vampireknight4dilemma about whether to give up or try to keep living for Yuki’s sake doesn’t do much for me. Kaname, for his part, is refined yet inscrutable. Even dialogue like, “I can’t bear losing you. Ever.” doesn’t manage to convince me that he’s in any sort of real emotional turmoil. The enjoyable flashbacks in volume three help somewhat to establish his connection with Yuki, though not greatly.

And yet, Vampire Knight possesses attributes that make it not only readable, but also somewhat of a guilty pleasure. For one, the art is very lovely, with bishounen eye candy galore. It’s slathered with screen tone, something I don’t normally like, but that ultimately works well in cultivating a gloomy and oppressive mood. Too, Hino occasionally creates scenes of surprising sexiness and drama, like the first time Zero drinks Yuki’s blood or the shocking final pages in volume four. This series may be blatantly silly at times, but as long as my (awesome) local library continues to carry it, I’m likely to keep reading.

To Love and Be Wise by Josephine Tey: B-

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toloveandbewiseFrom the back cover:
The advent of Leslie Searle was not a particularly fortunate happening for the village of Salcott St Mary. The American photographer possessed an almost inhuman beauty, and his presence aroused a variety of violent emotions in the small community. Then, one spring night, he disappeared close to the river. A case of missing, presumed drowned, one would assume. When Detective Inspector Grant is sent to the village, he is not short of murder suspects. But a far greater puzzle confronts him: Leslie Searle has vanished like someone performing the Indian rope trick in an English meadow…

Review:
To Love and Be Wise takes place in an isolated village called Salcott St Mary, in which something of a celebrity enclave has sprung up. An American photographer, Leslie Searle, is introduced into this society and quickly ruffles some feathers by perpetrating a few snubs and getting on too well with a woman who’s already engaged to be married to a rather self-important BBC commentator. When Searle goes missing after a public argument with said BBC chap, Inspector Grant is called in to investigate.

After the genuine enjoyment offered by The Franchise Affair, the previous book in Josephine Tey’s Inspector Grant series, this next installment comes as something of a disappointment. The biggest problem I have with it is that, in places, it can be very, very dull. It takes quite some time for the characters to become distinct and longer still for Searle to finally disappear. Eventually, it does grow somewhat more interesting, and though I had suspected something like the solution, I hadn’t expected it in quite the right way.

My favorite segments are actually those in which Grant consults with his actress friend, Marta, and values both her insights as well as her cool head in an emergency. It reminded me a little bit of Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane—not that the characters are at all similar, but it’s the same idea of the contented bachelor detective finally finding a woman who captivates him not with her beauty but with her wits. I hope we see Marta again!

All in all, I found the book to be a pleasant enough diversion. It’s certainly not going to show up on anyone’s Top 100 or even Top 500 list of the best mystery novels, but it’s far from the worst I’ve read.

Boys Over Flowers: Jewelry Box by Yoko Kamio: B

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jewelryboxAfter Boys Over Flowers ended its serialization in 2003, Yoko Kamio published two follow-up stories—one about the wedding of Shizuka and another told from Rui’s perspective—that take place a year after the events of volume 36. These stories were released (along with some supplemental material) in 2008 as volume 37 of the series and immediately topped the shojo charts. VIZ has opted to give this volume the subtitle Jewelry Box instead.

The first story, in which Tsukushi and Tsukasa briefly reunite in France while attending Shizuka’s wedding, is a bit of a disappointment, since their first time seeing each other in a year is full of crazy derelicts trying to stab Tsukushi and Tsukasa calling her an idiot. The second story, though, is quite good, focusing on Rui and maintaining that lovely, melancholic air that he possesses. Rui is wondering whether he’ll ever fall in love again, and though he concedes that things with Tsukushi are over, there are still faint traces of his feelings remaining that spur him to do things for her that he’d do for no one else. Tsukushi and Tsukasa also meet up again in this story and, though fans are still denied an undeniably conclusive happy ending, there’s at least a strong suggestion of one.

The supplemental material is comprised of a series chronology, character growth analysis, quiz, and interview with Kamio. The chronology in particular is extremely helpful and furnished most of the facts in my first paragraph.

Fans of Boys Over Flowers shouldn’t expect anything earth-shattering in this release, but it’s worth the read and can serve as a handy resource, to boot.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.

CSI: Intern at Your Own Risk by Sekou Hamilton and Steven Cummings: C

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csi-internAs part of the Las Vegas Police Department’s Outreach Program for high school students, five teenagers earn the right to serve as interns to the CSI unit. Among them is Kiyomi Hudson, who is intrigued by the murder of a classmate, Gretchen Yates. While she and her fellow interns—a creepy guy, a nerdy guy, a jock, and a rather jerky normal guy—perform their normal internly duties of watching demonstrations of forensic techniques and solving sample cases, Kiyomi also spurs them into investigating Gretchen’s death which leads to a (theoretically) dramatic conclusion.

I don’t watch CSI or any of its spin-offs, so some of the presumed appeal of this story is lost on me. Apparently, it features some characters from the show serving in an advisory capacity to the interns, but the only one I recognize is Gil Grissom. Taken only on its own merits, CSI: Intern at Your Own Risk isn’t bad, but it certainly could’ve been better.

The main problem is the disjointed nature of the storytelling, which cuts quickly between a facilities tour, a sample case, and the investigation into Gretchen’s murder. The characters are pretty stereotypical, too, and I found the identity of the culprit completely easy to guess, though not the exact nature of his or her motivation. Some of the dialogue is awkward and I had to laugh at the line “We’re on the scene of last night’s grizzly murder.” Oh no! Poor bear!

Still, now that the concept and group has been introduced, I might actually be interested in seeing the team work another case. Hopefully, if there is to be a next time, the result will be more polished.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson: B-

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hillhouseFrom the back cover:
Four seekers have come to the ugly, abandoned old mansion: Dr. Montague, an occult scholar looking for solid evidence of the psychic phenomenon called haunting; Theodora, his lovely and lighthearted assistant; Eleanor, the lonely, homeless girl well acquainted with poltergeists; and Luke, the adventurous future heir of Hill House.

At first, their stay seems destined to be merely a spooky encounter with inexplicable noises and self-closing doors, but Hill House is gathering its powers and will soon choose one of them to make its own.

Review:
The Haunting of Hill House is considered a classic of the horror genre, but honestly, I found it to be a mite snoozeworthy. I think the main problem is me. I’m a desensitized reader in the 21st century, far more difficult to shock and frighten, I assume, than the typical reader in 1959, when the book was published.

It’s the story of four people who gather to spend a summer at the supposedly haunted Hill House and report on paranormal activity there. Eleanor, a lonely woman who’s spent a sheltered decade caring for her ailing mother, quickly emerges as the protagonist, and early on displays a tendency for fanciful ramblings, as each time she passes a picturesque spot on her drive to Hill House, she concocts a story about how she has lived there and lovingly cared for the stone lions flanking the drive, et cetera.

Upon arrival, she quickly makes friends with the other female in the group, Theo. They bond during various terrifying (to them) supernatural disturbances, but the friendship is tested when the house begins to exert its power over Eleanor. It’s subtle at first, but by the end Eleanor is quite taken over by the place and the ending, though rather predictable, is great.

Besides my not finding any of the events truly creepy, Eleanor herself is the primary reason I didn’t enjoy the book more. Even before she begins to be affected by the house, she’s annoying, with a non-stop inner dialogue of self-doubt and worry about what others thought of her that really got on my nerves. Worse than Eleanor is Dr. Montague’s wife, whom I absolutely hated. Thankfully, she’s only present at the very end; I wonder why her odious presence was deemed necessary at all.

In the end, there are elements of the story that I liked and ones that I didn’t. But that’s okay; it’s never a waste of time to read a classic!