Sean Gaffney

By Mari Yamazaki. Released in Japan in two separate volumes by Enterbrain, serialization ongoing in the magazine Comic Beam. Released in North America by Yen Press.

Sometimes, the companies putting out manga in the West surprise you. Let’s face it, most of what comes out these days is meant to be popular and sell well. That’s the way of business. And I like a lot of popular, bestselling manga as well. But in times like these, with companies struggling to stay afloat, it’s far more likely you’ll see the latest “My Little Sister Has A Light Novel Series With An Overly Long Title” series than something from Big Comic or Evening (or, yes, even IKKI, though Viz has made an excellent effort). That’s why it’s always fantastic to see exceptions like these, a series with a nice big deluxe hardcover (which, admittedly, is probably the best way to ensure it will break even), which is about a Roman architect who finds he can now time-travel between Ancient Rome and modern-day Japan to learn about baths.

Seriously, just read that description again. It’s hard to find something farther away from ninjas and vampires. And yet I found this entire volume fascinating. There’s a nice balance between the so-called hook of Lucius marveling at the wonders of modern architecture and design (and beating himself up about the inadequacies of his time, which at times seems to be the dominant aspect of his personality) and Lucius’ own soap-opera of a life that his new designs bring about. There’s no real danger of ‘will bringing modern innovations into the past change the future’ – this isn’t a science fiction story, and notably how he does this is never really explained – it could easily be hallucinatory dreams.

But it’s his life, and those of his fellow Romans, that makes this such a page=turner. Lucius is modest to the point of self-loathing, has quite a few marriage issues (which, to the author’s credit, are not magically solved once he becomes more successful) and a number of jealous comrades. He’s also becoming closer with Emperor Hadrian, who has him design a few new baths, which leads to several obvious rumors about his sexuality (Hadrian’s tastes were well-known, though there’s a long series of endnotes for those unaware of the finer aspects of Roman history).

The Roman plotline (which actually is fairly historically accurate, to the degree allowed by the plot’s designs) is fairly heavy throughout, even as Lucius’s career prospects skyrocket. It’s therefore a relief that there’s always a modern Japanese time travel story to break this up. Lucius tends to overreact much of the time, in the best comedic tradition, and his awe in the face of things like Strawberry Milk or washcloths is just plain funny. The Japanese people he meets seem to be almost preternaturally unsuspecting and accommodating of him (oh look, another crazy foreigner) and always willing to expound on how awesome their baths/hot springs/etc are. (There’s some nationalism here, I admit, but it’s woven well enough into the plot that it’s easy to accept).

Yen’s presentation, as I noted above, is deluxe. A hardcover with a plastic slipcase in order to cover the Japanese original, which features a Roman statue with naughty bits. (Fear not – take off the slipcase and the bits are all present and correct.) The paper is high-class, and there’s comments by the author after each chapter about her research, Roman times vs. today, and how much she likes to simply bathe. A love of the bathing ritual permeates this book – not just getting clean, but everything about it – and it’s to Yamazaki-san’s credit that it doesn’t overwhelm the actual plotline of Lucius’s rise to fame and growing intrigue. This volume is a bit pricey, but it’s definitely worth it. Ask for it for Christmas!

By Sou Sagara and Okomeken. Released in Japan as “Hentai Ouji to Warawanai Neko” by Media Factory, serialization ongoing in the magazine Comic Alive. Released in North America by Digital Manga Publishing.

I must admit I was rather surprised to see a title from Comic Alive licensed by someone other than Seven Seas, and had to double check to make sure that this wasn’t BL-related in some way. (Not that Comic Alive would go anywhere near BL.) But no, DMP is dipping their toe in this market, and doing so with a title that seems a bit more low-key than what we’ve seen from other Comic Alive titles released in North America lately, even if it does have the same basic storyline and outlook.

The story stars Yoto, a typical teenage boy who spends most of his days trying to look at girls’ panties (OK, a typical Japanese teenage boy). He’s very good at denying he’s doing anything wrong, and fate seems to love him, as whenever he’s caught perving it gets mistaken for him doing something noble. He’s still bothered by this, however, being a decent pervert at heart, and wishes he could be more honest. Then he hears about a cat statue that grants wishes, and it seems to work nicely on his best friend. So he goes to visit it, and promptly runs into an embarrassed, panicky girl who also wants to wish on the cat statue – she wants to make it so her feelings aren’t so visible. Unfortunately, they both get their wishes – he now can’t tell a lie at all, even to save his getting beaten up, and she’s a perfect stoic on the outside, no matter what she may be feeling.

Wackiness, as they say, ensues. As you can see by my taking a paragraph to write out the plot, there’s not much to this. The two leads quickly realize how horrific this has become, but of course they can’t take their wishes back so easily. And things are livened up by your typical moe manga archetypes in the supporting cast. Yoto and Tsukiko are already cliched types (heck, Tsukiko manages to be two in one, as we see her both as the stressed out over-emotional girl *and* the stoic), and they’re joined by a busty track star who’s queen of the school and a blonde tsundere princess who finds her match in Yoto’s new blunt and straightforward persona. A light-hearted harem manga ensues.

I have not been all that fond of Comic Alive titles recently. I Don’t Like You At All, Big Brother! and Haganai both tended to irritate more than amuse me, mostly because I prefer my moe to be relaxed and soft rather than hyperactive and angry. But this wasn’t quite as bad as those two. The lead was just a shade more sympathetic, the tsundere had a bit more dimension to her, the plot invited antics while still being interesting. Yes, there’s still lots of talk of breasts and panties, and the plot is a simple ‘role reversal’ type thing we’ve seen before in, say, Your and My Secret, but this ended up being OK. I’d recommend it, but DMP hasn’t put Volume 2 on their upcoming list for 2013 (after they return from print hiatus), meaning we won’t see a new volume, if we do at all, for over a year. Thus, I can’t actually recommend it that much. But it’s not too bad.

Story by Ryukishi07; Art by Kei Natsumi. Released in Japan in two separate volumes as “Umineko no Naku Koro ni: Legend of the Golden Witch” by Square Enix, serialized in the magazine Gangan Powered. Released in North America by Yen Press.

The story of Higurashi: When They Cry may not be finished here in North America, but that doesn’t mean we haven’t seen people clamoring for its sequel. And so Yen has decided to bring it out even as Higurashi reaches its climax, in the more economical but deluxe-looking omnibus format. Not to worry, though: it’s a spiritual sequel rather than an actual one. Only one minor character from Higurashi shows up in Umineko, and we don’t meet her in this particular volume. But Umineko certainly has a lot of what drew people to Higurashi. Cute moe-style girls (who later turn out to have terrifying sides), heroes who use over the top perverse antics to hide a darker side, and of course giant piles of corpses drawn in gruesome detail.

It can be a little hard for me not to try to compare the protagonists of Umineko with their predecessors, especially since some of them don’t quite live up to those heights. Maria in particular is meant to have a certain Rika-esque aspect to her, but comes across as more bipolar than anything else. I must also agree with her mother: the uuu-uuu thing is really annoying, I’ll take nipah any day. As for Battler, I am reminded that I really disliked Keiichi at first, then grew to like him quite a bit, and I hope the same thing happens here. I also hope that, like Higurashi, the boob jokes and fetishes get less important as the volumes continue. I realize they’re there to provide contrast and relief before the main events, but let’s face it: they’re there for an otaku audience which isn’t me.

As for the story itself, I’m intrigued. Ryukishi07 has already stated that the goal here is not Higurashi’s (figure out who was behind the killings), leading me to think that the chances of everyone eventually living happily ever after are far less likely. The goal seems to be ‘is this a fantasy world or not?’, with its discussion of witches and black magic being countered by Battler (and Eva’s) staunch common sense and realistic view. I admit I’m inclined to believe there’s a human element as well, but then we’ve barely started this series, and still haven’t properly met ‘Beatrice’, the witch whose message is behind the whole thing. In addition, this series is about an extended family rather than a group of friends. It’s easy to bond with a group of close friends, who you can choose. Family’s harder, as you’re born with them. Notably, the parents in Umineko seem to be playing a much larger role than they did in Higurashi, and I’m not entirely sure if the children are supposed to be the heroes here, Battler’s POV or no.

Higurashi was never particularly subtle and somber, but it seems to me that Umineko takes things even further into a theatricality that almost embraces the grand guignol. Battler’s expansive gestures, the parents’ florid arguments regarding the inheritance, and of course the over-the-top mutilation of the corpses, all seem to be something that would be more appropriate for an opera house than a manga volume. That’s not to say I didn’t like it, though. Once you get used to the fact that everything is over the top, it becomes a much more readable series – even Maria’s supposed terrifying faces cause a grin and a ‘here we go again’.

In the end, this is a series with the same positives and negatives as Higurashi. If you can get past the groping fanservice and the grotesque murders, at its heart this is a mystery that will play out over the course of many volumes, and this is most likely merely meant as a taster introduction. Hopefully next volume we’ll meet the witch and get a few more answers. Then again, the first 2 volumes of Higurashi gave us no answers whatsoever…

By Yumi Unita. Released in Japan as “Usagi Drop” by Shodensha, serialized in the magazine Feel Young. Released in North America by Yen Press.

Please do not discuss Bunny Drop in the comments beyond Volume 7.

Everyone thinks a lot in Bunny Drop. I don’t just mean that we see their thoughts in addition to their dialogue, which we do, but that they think deeply all the time. Weighing decisions – and then wondering if they’re the correct ones – is something that Daikichi and Rin have done since this series began, and now that Rin is getting near graduating from school, she’s starting to think about her future. Which will involve having to resolve her past, and that means that she is finally going to have to meet Masako.

Yumi Unita knows that the best way to write a lovable, heartwarming manga is to make sure everything is as awkward as possible, so I was relieved to see that when Rin and Masako finally do meet, it wasn’t all hugs and tears and resolve to see each other every 2nd Saturday from now on. Rin still barely remembers Masako, even now – though we find out a reason for that here – and Masako may be moving on with her life and trying to be a better person, but she still acts like she regards Rin as a failed time in her life that makes her think lots of things she doesn’t want to. Masako’s childish qualities haven’t gone away, and it’s still very hard to sympathize with her. But we’re meant to be on Rin’s side here anyway.

Rin does a lot of soul searching here, spurred on partly by what happened with Kouki in Vol. 6 and partly through hearing about Reina getting a boyfriend (and then later watching it fall apart). She’s spent her last ten years growing up in an unconventional family, and realizes that she has a rather small pool of friends as well, mostly as she’s not doing clubs or sports, but going home to take care of Daikichi. I don’t think this is meant to be a dig on Daikichi himself – the general sense is that Rin really wants to do these things, and is likely better at cooking, etc., so has just stepped into this role at home.

Daikichi, meanwhile, is also growing older, and is having to deal with a serious injury for the first time – he puts his back out catching Rin when she falls off a stool. Given that he works in the shipping industry, this could be a big problem if it lingers. I was amused to see his co-workers coming over and reminiscing about their own back pains of the past, as well as Kouki’s mother telling Rin she had a back injury when she was in her twenties. But all this does is remind us how insular Daikichi’s own life has become as well. He doesn’t really hang out with co-workers anymore – his closest friend, in fact, may be Kouki.

So Rin is wondering about what it means to be a mother, and what it means to be a daughter. And realizing that the time may come when her life takes her away from Daikichi. And, unsurprisingly given how she’s grown up, she is not particularly fond of that day coming at all. That said, it’s not clear that day is coming soon in the manga either. The romantic drama we saw in Vol. 6 gets a brief mention here, but for the most part still appears to be over. So where does Rin go from here? Stay tuned for Vol. 8, coming out in April. Which may have a certain elephant that’s been lurking around the room. In the meantime, Vol. 7 gives us more of what we like about this series – thoughtful moments in the life of a kid who’s far too smart (but naive) for her own good.

By Satoko Kiyuduki. Released in Japan as “Hitsugi Katsugi no Kuro – Kaichu Tabi no Wa” by Houbunsha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Manga Time Kirara. Released in North America by Yen Press.

I never reviewed the first two volumes of Shoulder-a-Coffin Kuro, the main reason being that I didn’t have a blog when they were both released. It’s been four long years (and 4 volumes of GA Art Design Class, the cute 4-koma series by the same author that many fans blame for Kuro’s hiatus) since we last saw the adventures of the stoic girl and her coffin. Indeed, the author apologizes profusely at the end of Vol. 3 for the delay, and hopes that we’ll keep reading regardless. Luckily, that should not be an issue. Not only is there a particularly vicious cliffhanger to keep us hungry for Vol. 4, but picking up this series again is like revisiting an old friend – after a few pages it’s like they never went away.

A lot of people note that this series often has a downbeat and melancholy tone, which is true and certainly doesn’t go away here. It’s just as important, though, that it manages to keep a light touch, mostly in its portrayal of Nijuku and Sanju. TV Tropes has a page called ‘Morality Chain’ which discusses characters whose basic existence is what keeps our heroes on the straight and narrow. While Kuro isn’t close to becoming a supervillain, there is a certain sense that the two mysterious children/scientific experiments function that way to this series as a whole. They have the childlike wonder of a Yotsuba, while also being able to sustain a level of creepy due to their supernatural origins. It makes for a good balance.

As for the manga itself, much of it is the same as the previous two volumes – Kuro, Sen and the two kids roaming the countryside of ‘generic pre-industrial world’ and trying to find information about the witch who cursed Kuro. And while there are stand-alone plots throughout that have nothing whatsoever to do with Kuro’s past, we are starting to see events come together into a coherent whole. We meet a strange young woman who is called a witch, and who ‘is searching for the person searching for her’ – an obvious connection to Kuro. Kuro, meanwhile, not only deals with her mirror opposite, but also her possible evil twin… though given what we know of Kuro before her curse, there may be far less difference between them than we’d like.

And much as I enjoyed the fluffy slice-of-life chapters and the twins, they are outnumbered by the melancholy in the end. We meet wind-up dolls waiting forever for their long-dead owners, and fairy-tale legends built around not-so-great men. But most of all, we get Kuro, who walks on her journey with an air of stoic suffering that is absolutely necessary. She is not stoic by choice, but by pure force of will. And when that will is shattered – as it is at the end of this volume when she encounters a war veteran searching for his wife and daughter – we are reminded that Kuro is CURSED, and there’s a very good reason why she carries that coffin all the time.

As I said, Kiyuduki urges us all to forgive her hiatus and watch over Kuro for a little longer. And she couldn’t have chosen a better volume to get us to do it. I *need* to find out what happens next. Unfortunately, while Kuro may no longer be on hiatus, it’s still not the fastest series in the world, so I may have to stoically suffer until the next volume. Get this book at once, and go back and get 1 and 2 as well if you didn’t already.

By Yomi Hirasaka and Itachi. Released in Japan as “Boku wa Tomodachi ga Sukunai” by Media Factory, serialization ongoing in the magazine Comic Alive. Released in North America by Seven Seas.

It can sometimes be very difficult to practice what I preach. It’s all very well and good for me to offer advice to others, but sometimes a situation comes up where I have to take it. And so it goes with this first volume of Haganai, where I can’t help but hear the voice in the back of my head reminding me of Teru Teru x Shonen, where I urged bloggers who read Vol. 1 and then stopped to not judge an ongoing character arc by its first volume. And so it goes with Haganai, where I feel obliged to note that the plot is likely meant to be ‘this characters grow better and learn to be nice as the series goes on’. Or at least I hope so, as Haganai has some of the most irritating leads you’ll ever meet.

As if you had not been able to guess by the title and cover, Haganai is based on a series of light novels. The basic premise seems like some odd fusion of Haruhi Suzumiya and Toradora: a young man who has trouble making friends due to his natural blond hair and his squinty eyes meets an antisocial young woman who has trouble making friends with anyone. After a brief discussion, she gets the idea to form a club, supposedly devoted to learning how to make friends but in reality most likely just an excuse to hang out. Of course, she doesn’t count on the club actually gaining new members, all of whom are just as socially maladjusted as she is.

One thing the manga does that I enjoyed was have a ‘Chapter 0’ which takes place several months after the events of the rest of the book, a flash-forward of sorts showing us what the club will eventually be like. It helps to introduce the major players (including several who then don’t show up again for the rest of the volume) and shows off the basic plot and how it leads to cringe-inducing humor. Seeing it, I felt a bit more prepared for the rest of the volume.

Unfortunately, Haganai is also part of a brand of ‘moe’ that I’ve never really come to love. The old ‘harem genre’ of shonen manga used to have the nebbish hero choosing between nice girls, tsundere girls and the occasional bottle fairy, but there was never any indication that the girls weren’t able to function in society as a whole. But manga lately, mostly due to the related boom in light novels, has seen a huge increase in socially maladjusted high schoolers who simply can’t interact properly with anyone (except of course our hero… and even then). And you’re left exhausted as you see them blackmailing people gleefully as it would be fun to abuse them (as Yozora does here) or getting offended that the male lead refuses to act as her slave/footstool (as Sena does). It’s a love triangle of two girls who re all tsun and no dere. And what that leaves is basically a somewhat nondescript hero listening to two loud and obnoxious women yell for 200 pages.

That said, as I noted, clearly the premise will be (besides which girl gets the guy) about seeing the nice and sweet side of these girls. But it’s getting harder to justify digging for it. Even Haruhi Suzumiya eventually mellows out. Can I expect the same for Yozora and Sena?

By Kaoru Shintani. Released in Japan as “Christie High Tension” by Media Factory, serialized in the magazine Comic Flapper. Released in North America by Seven Seas.

The second omnibus volume of Young Miss Holmes, I will admit, did not thrill me quite as much as the first. Shintani is starting to have more difficulty inserting Christie and company into the Holmes stories, and I suspect, given there’s 3 volumes (one omnibus) to go after this that he might veer off the canonical road soon. He also has that odd habit that most manga writers who started in the 70s and 80s do of inserting humor – usually quite low humor – at the oddest points, something he no doubt got from Tezuka (you can see traces of this in Adachi and Takahashi’s writing as well). That said, this is still a lot of fun, with Christie being incredibly precocious while avoiding cloying qualities, and some much needed backstory for her two maids.

The first half of the book is taken up with The Hound of the Baskervilles, quite possibly the most famous of the Holmes stories. There are no attempts to alter the outcome of the story such as we saw before, and it spins out (with much compression) as expected. As I noted above, we get lots of opportunities to see Christie be brilliant, making deductions and logical leaps. At the same time, though, she has the patience and drive of a 10-year-old girl, and her maids realize this – though they’re still not able to corral her very well. And, as Shintani knows what’s popular and what isn’t, we get some nice opportunities of seeing Nora using her whip, including a battle with the Hound (which doesn’t go well, but luckily she has an unseen rescuer.) And again, thankfully, Holmes arrives at the solution faster than anyone else, including Christie.

The second story adapted here is The Adventure Of The Six Napoleons, which has a solution that is obvious enough that Shintani can easily write Holmes out of the tale and have Christie solving everything. This also reintroduces Detective Dexter of Scotland Yard, who we briefly saw in Hound, and who pops up every now and then from now on. He has an immediate attraction to head maid Ann Marie, something Christie notes and is quick to take advantage of. Again, the case plays out much like the original, but makes for a nicely entertaining adaptation.

A brief short story, The Memories of Nora, follows, and is what it sounds like: an original story by Shintani showing Nora’s life to date and how she became a maid at the Hope Estate. It’s not a pleasant childhood to say the least (and has some annoying ‘evil gypsies’ stereotypes to boot), but lets us see that Nora has no regrets as to where she’s ended up.

The final Holmes story adapted for Christie is The Five Orange Pips. Wisely, Shintani leaves the main mystery to Holmes, if only so that Christie doesn’t have to feel responsible for the fallout. Christie’s plot rests with Ann Marie, who has a complete freakout when she hears about the pips. As with most modern North American readers, the solution is far more obvious these days – we know what KKK stands for – so the storyline concentrates on Ann Marie’s own tragic childhood, and her change from a sweet little child to an instrument of God’s vengeance (as Holmes rather awkwardly puts it).

I must note once again that Seven Seas’ All Ages rating for the book is entirely inappropriate, in my opinion. Leaving aside the brief non-sexual shots of underage nudity, there’s simply a giant pile of violence here, including lingering shots of corpses with their throats slit, as well as a young girl killing an entire mansion full of people. I get that ratings can sometimes drive sales, and that it’s very hard to sell books starring 10-year-old cuties to adults. But come on.

That said, I am very grateful to Seven Seas for bringing out this series, which is a fast-paced and fun mystery series with a cute and sharp as a whip protagonist, and can’t wait (though I will have to, as it’s not out till September 2013) for the conclusion. And note with amusement that even Christie herself has started to call her maids ‘Herculean’.