Sean Gaffney

By Eiichiro Oda. Released in Japan by Shueisha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Weekly Shonen Jump. Released in North America by Viz.

The majority of this volume of One Piece is composed of running around and fighting, as we tend to get when we’re 2/3 of the way through most story arcs in this series. Everyone is coming together from various disparate points (or, in the case of Luffy, getting dumped way the hell away from everyone) to try to stop Caesar Clown, who is upset that he has to kill them all in his secret base rather than out on Punk Hazard’s surface. We also get to see more of the fighting styles of minor villains Monet and Vergo. And thankfully we also get lots and lots of silliness.

One thing that gets a bit more attention this volume is the way that trust works in the world of One Piece. Luffy is, let’s face it, a man who inspires devotion and loyalty in his crew, but he’s not the only one. Most of the pirates, marines and mooks we see here are all fiercely proud and supportive of their leader, to the point almost of mindlessness. This is where Luffy’s crew stands out, of course – being real characters, they’re allowed to disagree with him or tell him he’s being stupid. The nameless marines and villains, however, don’t have that option, so they remain trusting and gullible to an extreme. When it’s someone like Tashigi who inspires them, that’s fine – she would never tell them to do something stupid, and indeed tries to protect them by stating that their foe is not the real Vergo. When it comes to Caesar, though…

Let’s face it, Caesar is a terrible, terrible liar. His “I am a good guy trying to help you all” act is pathetic, and it doesn’t say much for his mooks that they buy into it wholeheartedly. At least the little kids have the excuse of being too young to really understand. (though kudos to the one kid who sacrifices herself for the others, after Chopper finally convinces her what’s really happening). Caesar is not quite as scummy as, say, Spandam, but it’s still very satisfying to see Luffy beat the ever-loving snot out of him here.

There’s also Zoro and Tashigi, who get a lot of spotlight here. Tashigi’s character has always been fairly problematic, and it doesn’t really get any better here, as her compassion wars with her fierce competitiveness and her belief that Zoro is holding back whenever he’s near her because she’s a woman. Zoro, of course, is not about to tell her the real reason, and in any case is so far beyond her skill level now that he can take out Money, let her get in the final blow, and then agree to have her take the credit for it. Makes no difference to him, as that sort of thing is irrelevant when you’re on the level he is. In short, their relationship is still just as amusing yet awkward to read about as ever. (I did love her nerding out about his new sword as he carries her away from the gas, though.)

So overall another solid volume. The crew get chances to show off (Even Nami, whose weather control works well briefly against someone like Monet), and the collective treatment of Brownbeard is a comedic masterpiece. I am, however, looking forward to this arc being done in a volume or two.

By Atsushi Ohkubo. Released in Japan by Square Enix, serialization ongoing in the magazine Shonen Gangan. Released in North America by Yen Press.

One of the most enjoyable things about Soul Eater is the way that the author balances out the seriousness and humor throughout the story. A lot of shonen fighting series tend to have long serious parts, then chapters that are pure goofy. Ohkubo, though, simply lets the humor come in anytime he feels like it, even if it’s in the middle of a pitched battle for everyone’s life. This is not to say that there aren’t pure comedy bits here (the middle chapter, which features Maka’s dad trying to be sympathetic and failing spectacularly – again) but the fact that you can find a goofy face or a silly moment anywhere actually helps add to the mood of the overall work. Soul Eater has always thrived on being one step off the edge, leaning slightly into madness.

The converse of this, of course, is that any silly moment can turn on a dime to become serious. Thus Black*Star’s self-aggrandizing has a serious point – the reason why he can push back Crona so easily is due to his own self-confidence and ego, while Crona is simply filled with hatred and loathing. Crona’s “I DON’T KNOW WHO MAKA IS!” is a cry of anguish that once again makes you realize that Crona’s entire life (the manga may choose to say he, but I prefer to be awkward – Crona is genderless on purpose) has been mental torture and abuse by Medusa. Speaking of Medusa, she’s back to being a mad scientist, and is perfectly content to justify her actions by noting she is a witch – not that all witches automatically stand against our heroes, but as Kim has shown us, they are generally assumed to be evil until proven otherwise.

As for Kid, once again we get the goofy stuff – his obsessive-compulsive disorder comes to the fore in a very funny way, as you realize that the one who’s really best at torturing Kid is Kid himself – followed by an unnerving scene where Kid meets another one of the Great Old Ones whose presence has made this world what it is – and is seemingly taken over by it, as the cliffhanger shows. Soul Eater does star Maka and Soul, but has been excellent at giving Black*Star and Kid enough character arcs and development that they also feel like co-stars.

And then there’s the gender-bending. Rule 63 has been around the Internet forever, but has appeared in actual canonical works less so. As such, it’s highly amusing to see the cast transformed into their opposite-gendered selves (though I do have a little niggle with the explanation why – it makes it sound like gays and lesbians don’t exist), particularly as Maka and Soul have to deal with the thing that most annoys them about the other – Maka’s male body is tempted by the succubus, and Soul bemoans the fact that it’s “just big boobs” that turn men on. Judging by the previous, this swap won’t take up too much time, but it’s fun to see.

In the end, this is why Soul Eater is one of the best shonen titles coming out here. It’s fun, but with a tinge of madness that never quite goes away. It skitters at the back of your brain.

By Quin Rose and Mamenosuke Fujimaru, based on the game by Quin Rose. Released in Japan as “Clover no Kuni no Alice – Cheshire Neko to Waltz” by Ichijinsha. Released in North America by Seven Seas.

(Note: this reviews mentions THAT Alice spoiler later on. You know the one.)

Now that this series has finally come to an end, I think it’s a good time to take a look at it in a larger context. Volume-wise, it’s the longest Alice series to date. However, many of these volumes were bloated up with side stories – some featuring Alice and Boris, some not – to the point where I suspect the actual content would struggle to make it to 5 volumes if put together on its own. Overall, I think the series was successful, but its tendency to meander and focus on the romance over the darker themes make it perhaps midrange in overall quality. Let’s see if we can pin down what it did best.

First off, the premise of the Clover world spinoffs (as opposed to Hearts) is that Alice has been there longer and is finding love with someone she already has a friendship with, as opposed to a sudden passionate love. I think it does a pretty good job of that here – much as I’m not a fan of the romance part of this series in general, the author does a good job of showing us Alice and Boris’ friendship, and how that’s affected by their growing love. It also shows off dealing with Boris’ cat-like tendencies – he can wander off, or seem aloof, and is quite changeable – as well as Alice’s mood swings and anger issues. And, of course, jealousy. It didn’t really knock me out, but as a romance it’s perfectly sweet.

The other thing I think this manga did very well is the attention that it gave to the ‘faceless’ inhabitants of Wonderland. Our view of this world has almost entirely come from Alice and the 12 ‘role-holders’, all of whom are naturally drawn to her by their very existence. The faceless are meant to be bodies filling out the story, so unimportant they don’t even get eyes. And yet Alice can tell then apart, something that mildly astounds everyone else. What’s more, here they are shown to have goals and lives beyond support of the heroes and heroine. Some are plotting a takeover against the hatter, some are jealous of Alice’s ability to get someone to love her whether she likes it or not, and some are just doing a job, even if it means their death. I’m still not certain about the faceless overall, but I have a much greater understanding of them after reading this.

And then there’s Lorina. This is the second book we’ve seen recently where Alice is shown abandoning the real world and staying in Wonderland with her love. I’ve discussed how this makes me slightly uncomfortable, something I think is entirely intentional on the author’s part. Cheshire Cat Waltz is not as dark and twisted as, say, Joker and Liar’s Game, however, so we see Alice, who’s having another post-traumatic breakdown, visited by Lorina’s spirit, who reassures her that it’s OK to forget and move on, and that her death (looks, it’s been 15+ books, I am now prepared to reveal the horrible secret of the Alice books) was not Alice’s fault. So her stay in Wonderland is couched in terms that make it look less like escaping from reality and more like accepting this is her new reality. How you feel about that depends on how you view the Alice series as a whole, I think.

As for the major drawback of the series, well, it meanders. It meanders even more than my reviews do. And just when each volume seems to be leading up to an exciting bit, the story ends halfway through so that we can get either side-stories of Alice and Boris in the Hearts world, or even worse, Crimson Empire side-stories that have nothing to do with this world at all. Read all at once, it must be more tolerable. Read over the course of a year, it’s a mess.

Still, overall, I’m pleased to have read this. Alice and Boris are cute, and it fleshed out the personalities of the non-Hatter cast a lot more. (The Hatter cast got a lot to do as well, but they always do.) It’s a good read for fans of the series. Just be prepared for the story to start and stop a lot.

By Sakura Tsubasa. Released in Japan as “Yoroshiku Master” by Hakusensha, serialized in the magazine LaLa DX. Released in North America by Viz.

It’s rare to find a manga series with so many things I’m wary of and so many things that I love in the same package. Sweet Rein manages to hit all my buttons, both the good and bad ones. It’s fortunate that it’s only a 3-volume series, as I suspect this isn’t sustainable in the long-term, but as a short romantic comedy, it’s quite readable. Even the unrelated short story at the end manages to be deeper than I thought while also briefly appalling me. Sweet Rein pulls in about ten different directions.

The first thing that surprised me is the degree to which this is a magical girl series. Animal companion (who is also the romantic lead, but let’s save that for another paragraph) finds a somewhat melancholic girl dissatisfied with her life and shows her that she can bring happiness to the world. In this case, the animal companion is a reindeer who is actually a young man named Kaito. His entire family is reindeer (on his mother’s side), and when he meets our heroine, Kurumi, it’s love at first sight. In fact, it’s more than that. The Japanese title of this series translates as “Hello, Master!”, and it becomes clear that Kaito is bound to Kurumi, both physically and emotionally. This doesn’t bother him at all, but gives her some difficulties. What part of his feelings are his own heart, and what is the magic “making” him love her?

Because this is a magical girl series deep down, I was a bit more forgiving of some of the more ridiculous plot contrivances, though the Spirit of Christmas curing cancer was a bit much even for me. It’s far more fun to focus on Kurumi, who is a more down-to-earth and practical person than many shoujo heroines, and doesn’t even crack a smile till towards the end of the first chapter. Her background will be familiar to readers of this genre – mother long dead, father works long hours to support them so he’s never home, all her friends out with guys for Christmas. The Japanese reading of Christmas as being “Love + Santa” really comes into play here, with little to no religious subtext. (And thank God for that.) As for the reindeer thing, it would seem that Kaito’s body is ‘default human’, so I can deal. They do make a cute couple.

The side story is unrelated to the main action, being a one-shot about an immortal vampire (who looks like a cute young man) being saddled with a daughter from a woman that he had bedded some time ago. Most of the chapter is actually decent, with a good look at what it’s like to be an immortal and watch everyone you love die, and a nice vampire mythology that basically makes “turning” someone pot luck – either they die or they become vampires, they usually die, and it’s not controllable. Unfortunately, the entire thing is nearly upended by a very unfortunate choice at the end, where the art and storyline dovetail in exactly the way I was hoping they wouldn’t the moment this little girl showed up. Bleah.

Overall, though, I think the good parts of this manga outweighed the bad. It’s the sort of series that I suspect you shouldn’t think too deeply about, which makes it a bad fit for me but a great choice for anyone looking for some Christmas escapism.

By Osamu Tezuka. Released in Japan initially by Fujishobo; this edition was licensed from Tezuka Pro. Released in North America by PictureBox.

(Note: I spoil the ending in the review, be warned.)

I’m not sure that this manga, one of the first ones produced by the legendary Tezuka, can quite match the surreal heights of Picturebox’s first release, The Last of the Mohicans. It’s just as influential, but its style is more generic and the author’s early flaws show through a bit more. I think this actually works best as sort of a scholarly or critical edition, with the helpful essays by Ryan Holmberg providing a context that gives depth to what feels first time around like a pulpish adventure story. It will likely fare very well with rereads.

The entire plot feels like an old Republic serial, and the accompanying essay does mention Flash Gordon as one of Tezuka’s big influences. The main thing you won’t see in a live-action adventure serial, though, is Mimio, the intelligent rabbit who is modified (in a quite disturbing sequence showing the horrors of science for science’s sake) into a humanoid rabbit with feelings and emotions, but in a world where that sort of creature is going to be a pariah. In a later work, this might be the bulk of the story’s premise, but here we also follow John, the young scientist who is trying to follow in the footsteps of his late father and build a tunnel through the Earth (because flying is dangerous), with the help of his rich uncle and the Snidely Whiplash-esque Ham Egg, who many Tezuka fans will know is the villain the moment they see him.

What made this manga so influential to other Japanese artists and writers, of course, was the ending. I’ll admit, I found it rather curt and over the top melodramatic, but killing off one of the main characters and ending on a depressing note was a big sea change in the world of manga right then. Indeed, Tezsuka would come back to this basic storyline both in the 60s and 70s, revising and expanding, something he was known to do with several works (see also Princess Knight). I found it rather sad, given that Mimio not only wasn’t on the cover but didn’t make the cast of characters page. His death is the tragic ending, yet the book’s very design designates him to the forgotten extra pile. (Though this may be to avoid pointing out his disguises later on.)

The one thing this does have in common with its earlier Picturebox neighbor is seeing how the artists worked Western influences into the artwork of the title. Again, Holmberg’s essay is vital here, as the first time through you may simply read the story and characterization and miss the designs. I’d mentioned Flash Gordon, but there’s a lot of Disney here as well, as you’d expect from Tezuka. I also spotted the Popeye faces right off the bat. What I wasn’t expecting was Chic Young’s Blondie to be such a huge influence. Not only is John’s house and several poses reminiscent of Dagwood Bumstead, but the physician who watches over Mimio’s end is none other than Mr. Dithers! I’m not sure you could get away with that these days.

I definitely enjoyed this book, but I enjoyed it more from an academic, historical standpoint. If you’re the sort that loves to look at panels so see which issue of Bucky Bug this corresponds to, or to find out how this title resonates in a larger historical context, than this is the book for you. Well-researched, in a nice small size, and a good example of how, even when his writing is somewhat unformed and amateurish, Tezuka can still fascinate.

By Kosuke Fujishima. Released in Japan by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Afternoon. Released in North America by Dark Horse.

Sometimes there’s just too much to say for a Bookshelf Brief, and that’s certainly the case with this volume of Oh My Goddess. Since my last full review 2 years ago, we’ve been going through hell like a video game, with various mini-bosses being taken down. In the midst of this, Keiichi and Belldandy had to break their contract in order to get past one obstacle. Once they reconnect it, Keiichi notices that his feelings for Belldandy, while just as strong, seem more… arousing than normal. And there’s a reason for that, one that set fandom alight when this chapter first came out about a year and a half ago.

Like most everyone who has now read this series for 45 volumes – indeed, hardcore fans may have read the series THREE TIMES by now, in 32-page floppies, then the flipped volumes, then the unflipped volumes – and I had always assumed that the total lack of sexual desire between Keiichi and Belldandy was a function of Japanese fandom and the “we must keep our idols pure and virginal” mentality, as well as a strong dose of “if they actually do get it on, the manga will end, and this is a GIANT CASH COW, so nothing can happen.” Now Fujishima is saying this has all been deliberate on the part of heaven, who have locked up Keiichi’s libido magically so that he and Belldandy won’t procreate – because of the past past experiences with demigods.

That wasn’t the thing that made fandom upset. It was that Belldandy and Urd were aware of this all the time, and said nothing. It’s worth noting that for those who remember the very early days of the series, this retcon is very awkward. Keiichi spent most of the first volume or so trying to get into Belldandy’s pants, and this vanished around the same time that his eyebrows stopped being huge and 80s-shaped. What’s more, Urd’s constant attempts at aphrodisiacs and love potions now make a whole lot of no sense. That said, for a manga that is looking forward and not backward, it’s a fascinating twist, and Belldandy clearly feels horrible and self-doubting about it.

There’s not really much to worry about, as K1 is pretty much the perfect boyfriend, so even when Bell and Skuld’s mother suggests they may have lost the trust between them (oh yeah, she showed up as well, forgot to mention that) he’s quick to smile and show that if anything, he loves her even more. Keiichi and Belldandy can be sickeningly sweet even when they aren’t stressing about whether they truly deserve each other, and I have to assume that if you’re still reading the series you’ve just resolved yourself to that happening. It can be adorable in the right mood.

I note Hild’s plotline is resolved here, which was meant to be the main goal of this arc. Instead, it’s turned into a combination of Dante’s Inferno and Orpheus, with Keiichi and Belldandy having everything that they know and trust about their relationship torn apart and destroyed so that (presumably) it can be rebuilt even stronger and with more sweet smiles. Plus hey, Keiichi can now see her and get aroused, which is a big step forward for the wrong type of fan. :) We end up with a cliffhanger that looks as f it may involve past lives, and I suspect won’t work out nearly as well as K1 and Bell have. But we’ll have to wait a long time for that, as the volume likely won’t arrive till August 2014.

(By the way, there is an excellent tribute to the late Toren Smith by Carl Horn at the end of this volume, well worth reading even if you’d dropped the series long ago. This is one of the series that everyone things of when they think of Toren, so it was lovely to see.)