Sean Gaffney

By Walt Kelly. Released in North America from 1948 to 1950, first published by the New York Star, then Hall Syndicate. This new edition released by Fantagraphics.

Yes, it’s no longer a myth, the book we have been waiting for for four and a half years is finally here. A huge, collected hardcover of the Pogo comic strip, covering its first year and a half of syndication, as well as the early New York Star strips. And even if you have a bunch of old Simon & Schuster Pogo books from the 1950s such as The Pogo Papers, or the 1980s reprints such as The Best of Pogo, this is still a worthy purchase. The strip looks great, the Sundays are in color, and the whole thing reads like the labor of love it is.

As I said before when recommending the purchase of the book, Pogo was one of the first things I ever read. Yes, I suppose there was Dr. Seuss and Richard Scarry in there as well, but I also had copies of We Have Met The Enemy And He Is Us and Bats and the Belles Free that I had found in a used bookstore, and read them until they fell apart. Because Kelly has created a world rather than a comic strip, and one does not so much read it as bathe in it. It took me several days to read this volume, because I wanted to read everything slowly. The dialogue, the pacing, the situations… even when everyone’s running around and crazy events are going on, it’s still not what I would call hectic. This is good old fashioned Southern Okefenokee adventure, written by a man who grew up in my own home state of Connecticut.

For those who are unfamiliar with the strip, it could be described as a talking animals strip if you want to get that simple. Pogo is a possum who lives in the middle of the swamp, and he is also the straight man around whose life his crazier and funnier friends revolve. There’s the impulsive Albert Alligator, the pseudo-intellectual Howland Owl, grumpy yet lovable Porkypine, and the ditzy yet likeable turtle Churchy LaFemme. (Can men be ditzy? Or male turtles?) There’s also a whole pile of ancillary characters, many of whom debut here – Kelly would bring them in and out of the strip as he pleased, but those are the ones I’d consider the core cast.

For the most part, the strip varies between one-shot gag type strips (Kelly loved wordplay, and the book is filled with bad puns, as if Churchy LaFemme’s name alone didn’t warn you) and longer more intricate adventure strips, many of which seem to involve everyone thinking Albert has accidentally eaten someone else (sometimes he has – the beauty of comic strips is that creatures can survive quite a long time after being eaten by an alligator – they can even play cards!). Strangely, Albert is no less sympathetic for this, as he never does this out of malice or hunger, just carelessness. Indeed, one of the earliest satirical strips involves some of the villains setting up a sham trial to prove Albert guilty of eating the cute little Pup Dog, and Albert is clearly meant to get the reader’s sympathy.

For those more familiar with the strip, there is some satirical content here (mostly the arc I just mentioned), but we have not gotten too political just yet. In later volumes Pogo will delve further into the realm of political and social criticism, and indeed by the 1960s you may see why more folks compare it to Doonesbury than, say, Shoe, but here Kelly is taking it easy and building up his strip’s popularity. The villains tend to be as broad as the heroes, with Seminole Sam briefly taking a turn as a carnivore (along with the far more malevolent and nasty Wiley Catt) before Kelly realized that he actually made a far more effective villain as a shyster and small-time crook. What’s more, most of the situations Pogo and company find themselves in are made by the heroes themselves – Albert, Owl and Churchy are all easily led, and can change their minds whenever they please. Sometimes Pogo just finds himself going along with the craziness, trying vainly to put in a good word for sense. And by ‘sometimes’ I mean ‘for the next twenty-four years’.

I’d mentioned Kelly grew up in Connecticut, and indeed the dialect used in the strip is not genuinely Southern so much as ‘Southern once or twice removed, then exaggerated for comic effect’. But it’s amazing to read, and works very well when read aloud (another reason I took so long to read the book). Many critics have taken the time to examine Kelly’s written dialect, and it easily fulfills one of my own pet bugaboos about written speech: it has to sound like someone would actually say it. This is harder for many writers than you might think, but there’s no question that the swamp denizens are engaging in dialogues that are not only funny and engaging but sound real – even if they don’t necessarily sound Southern.

Kelly started to do Sunday color strips a few months after the syndicated debut, and they’ve been collected before, but usually in black and white. These are in color for I believe the first time since they appeared in newspapers. The introduction notes this was the main reason why the book kept getting delayed – cleaning the Sunday strips, and finding ones that could be published, was a major chore. They look fine here, about as good as I think you’re going to get when dealing with 60-year-old comics where the original art is long since lost. While the strips could occasionally be in continuity with the dailies, more often than not the Sunday Pogos had their own continuity from week to week. I was particularly fond of the Fountain of Youth story, which features much of what Pogo does best – immediate misconceptions and overreactions.

Fantagraphics has a nice introduction giving a brief biography of Kelly, and describing many of the struggles he had with Pogo and syndication. There is also a fantastic notes section at the end, which points out historical trivia as well as giving the context for some of the strips. Two of the main villains of the story where Albert is falsely accused are based on newspaper publishers William Randolph Hearst and Robert McCormick, something I would have been totally ignorant of as a child. As the strip got more satirical, we’d see more swamp animals based on real life figures, usually political. We’ll have to wait for Volume 3 for the most famous one, however.

It’s possible that the appeal of Pogo may be lost on folks who are so used to everything that it influenced, be it talking animal comedies or political satires. Doesn’t matter to me, though. This strip is funny, well-drawn, and features a huge mass of likeable characters doing entertaining things. Put it together with Fantagraphics’ excellent presentation, and you have a definite must-buy. I will assume that Volume 2 will be out this fall, and that the wait for future volumes will not be as long as the wait for this one, even if it was totally worth it.

By Carl Barks. Released in North America in 1948 and 1949, first published in various Walt Disney comic books by Western Publishing. This new edition released by Fantagraphics.

It seems rather odd to say this, but I never grew up reading Carl Barks. My comic book experience as a child was pretty much Archie, Asterix and Tintin. I read the occasional Plastic Man as well, but DC and Marvel just held no interest for me. Likewise, though I enjoyed Disney movies and the odd short I saw, the lack of Disney Channel in our house meant I missed out on the desire to get more Donald Duck adventures at any cost. And I’d never quite had enough word of mouth to get the many re-releases of Barks’s material over the years. But Fantagraphics has had some excellent archive material over the years, and when I heard them announce this, even though it wouldn’t technically be published in order, I decided to sit down and figure out why this man is so revered.

I didn’t end up disappointed. This is really fantastic storytelling. Another review of this volume compared it to Tintin, and I think that’s very apt. There’s the adventures in foreign lands, the constant peril, the occasional wacky gags thrown in to alleviate said peril, and of course good old American ingenuity that, thankfully, never verges on jingoism quite as much as Tintin sometimes did. Heck, there’s even some questionable racial caricatures, although again I note that compared to what other artists were doing at the time, Barks was miles ahead. These aren’t cartoon cannibals or witch doctors – even if they’re drawn in a comic based around cartoons.

The volume takes in one year of Barks at his ‘peak’ – 1948 and 1949 – and features four adventure stories of 20-30 pages in length, about nine shorter comedy stories that are 10 pages each; and ends with a series of one-page gag pages. For those who are hardcore about reading in order, the actual publication dates are on the final page, but I didn’t really notice any issues – these aren’t continuity laden strips. The adventure strips are the best of the lot, so it makes sense to pack the front half with them. Lost in the Andes gets the cover and title, and rightly so -it has an epic flavor that the others don’t quite hit, and even manages to be majestic, while still believably starring Donald Duck. The search for square eggs is nicely silly, and manages to merge nicely with the lost world Donald and his nephews find. This is the longest tale in the book, but the pacing never lags.

The other three adventure stories aren’t quite as good, but are still well worth a read. Voodoo Hoodoo was apparently censored in some previous Barks books, and is presented warts and ll here, including its African zombies and witch doctors. (Shouldn’t the zombie be Haitian? Oh well, never mind…) Most of all, it features a thoroughly despicable Uncle Scrooge, who I’m presuming has not yet become a featured player, and who seems to happily wish a fate worse than death on his own nephew. Race to the South Seas also features Scrooge being a jerk, though slightly less malevolent here. I also met Donald’s cousin Gladstone, who appears to have immense good luck but a horrible personality. This helps make Donald more sympathetic than he otherwise is. Lastly is The Golden Christmas Tree, which doesn’t work quite as well, mostly as the story is less realistic, and has a mawkish moral not written by Barks tacked onto the end.

(Regarding the African and South Seas natives: This could be a good gift for children, but you might want to explain how times have changed and discuss the stereotypes of yesteryear, even if Barks is nowhere near the level of Coal Black and de Sebben Dwarfs.)

The little 10-page stories veer more towards the comedy end of the spectrum, and several of them feature Donald as the hot-tempered impetuous duck we know from the screen, as opposed to the likeable adventurer we’d grown used to before. Even here, though, Donald can surprise us. One of my favorites was a rewrite of the animated short Truant Officer Donald, where Donald’s nephews try to skip school, but find the new truant officer manages to be a match for them. I also enjoyed a story where Donald is plagued by recurring nightmares, and his nephews try to help cure him. This is a classic ‘things snowball out of control’ plot where the absurdity of the ongoing situations makes everything funnier. And for those who want good old classic Disney plots of Donald outsmarting himself or infuriating himself, there’s stories where he gets onto a quiz show and tries to raise a sunken boat on the cheap that should be right up your alley. Lastly, the one-page gag stories are just that – funny. You really don’t ask for anything else when the story’s a page and stars Donald Duck.

I can’t judge the look of the comics against previous editions, but I don’t really have any issues – everything looks clear and sharp. I have heard that Race to the South Seas was mastered from original art for the first time in decades, so I imagine those on the fence might be interested in that. The book also has a big introduction giving a history of Carl Barks, and short essays at the back on each of the ‘main’ stories, i.e. the adventures and the 10 page comedy shorts. These essays vary wildly, with the best providing useful information and context, and the worst sounding like they were lifted straight from the densest section of the Comics Journal’s prose. Which, given this is a Fantagraphics release, shouldn’t be too surprising. :)

I picked this up thinking it’d be a good chance to see if I liked Carl Barks and what the fuss was all about. Well, now I get it – and I’m hooked. The second volume, out in May, apparently will focus on the years 1952-1953, and be more of an Uncle Scrooge edition. Which is fine, he needs to win me over after his horrible behavior here. But overall, this is well worth the purchase for any fan of classic comics.

By Naoko Takeuchi. Released in Japan as “Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon” by Kodansha, serialized in the magazine Nakayoshi. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics.

(There are spoilers for this volume in the review, please be aware.)

The first thing I noticed about the new volume of Sailor Moon, which contains half of the original Vol. 2 and half of 3, was how nicely it bookended itself. The volume opens with a dazed Usagi, waking up in Mamoru’s apartment, stunned to find out that he’s really Tuxedo Mask. And some two hundred and forty pages later, we end with the menacing cliffhanger of Usagi staring stunned at the same Mamoru, eyes now dark and with a menacing sneer on his face. Both of these things were highly predictable, but Takeuchi has a way of taking the most cliched plots and making them fascinating anyway.

Of course, in between those two set pieces, there’s a lot of stuff going on. First off, we get the arrival of our fifth Senshi. Takeuchi was not relying on her readers having read Code Name: Sailor V, so Minako gets introduced as if we’re meeting her for the first time. Which is a good thing, as Sailor V readers must have been confused by this serious, no-nonsense girl they thought they knew as a hyperactive ditz. (Remember, Sailor V was still less than halfway done at this point – the serious backstory for Minako was done retroactively after Sailor Moon ended.) In this case, I think Takeuchi realizes that the story is at a point where she needs Minako to be the experienced leader, rather than the genki flake. (That will come later, though never as much as the anime.)

So Minako is here to be the Senshi with long experience in fighting evil. The setup with her pretending to be the Princess is actually very well-thought out and sensible (I smell Artemis’s hand behind it), and even once the Princess’s true identity is revealed, note that it’s Venus who gets to be King Arthur and pull the huge sword out of the stone. (This does lead to the one ‘Mina-chan’ moment of the manga, where she drops the sword in the middle of Ami’s swank apartment complex lobby.) Unfortunately, this is a plot rather than character based manga series at this point, so Ami, Rei and Makoto get far less to do this time around except exposit. Though Makoto does manage to get briefly controlled by the enemy – it’s far more realistically done than Mamoru, and thus more disturbing.

There’s also a lot of destiny in this volume, most of it involving Usagi. A lot of this volume and the next is concerned with the past repeating itself – both the Senshi and the villains are worried about that, for different reasons – and how much fate controls our lives. There’s definitely a Romeo and Juliet vibe to the past life of Serenity and Endymion, though it’s unclear why their love is forbidden except that they come from different worlds. (Also, note Endymion being the leader of Earth – which helps explain why there is no Sailor Earth in this series, only in 70,000 fanfics on the Internet.) Seeing Endymion killed by the forces of evil is not particularly surprising, but seeing Princess Serenity stab herself with a giant broadsword IS. Takeuchi has never been shy about showing us blood and horror (witness Usagi’s dream of Mamoru’s melting skull, and Luna later on getting thrown so hard against a wall she almost bleeds to death). You can see why folks would like to fight Destiny repeating itself.

There’s also a lot here about the corrupting power of evil, something we’ll see time and time again in this series. Metallia is shown as a gray amorphous blob of pure nasty, and almost all the villains taking human form are shown to be possessed or controlled in some way, be it Beryl (who went on an archaeological search for Metallia’s seal, so was admittedly asking for it) to the four male Generals (who, like our heroes, appeared to have been reborn on Earth, but sadly were abducted and turned before they really knew what was going on.) Kunzite almost manages to throw off the spell for a bit – it’s clear that he’s dedicated to Mamoru over Beryl, at least till she pours the evil back into him – but for the most part it’s meant as tragedy, showing us the power and ambition that evil can command. (Note Beryl’s desire to take power for herself – and overthrow Metallia. Villains who turn against their masters is another thing you’ll see a lot of in this series, even if it doesn’t amount to much here.)

Kodansha’s presentation is pretty good. I noticed a typo or two, but for the most part the translation is very smooth. It’s not adapted as much as Tokyopop’s was, which works in some ways and not in others, but that is the nature of such things. Usako and Mamo-chan are both used here, with an endnote showing how they derived from the original names. This translation also keeps Takeuchi’s habit of having Usagi’s name represented by a bunny drawing – which can take some getting used to, I will admit. I wish the extras in the back had been translated – yes, they’re in teeny weeny script, and translating writer scrawl is always hard, but still. I also heard there are 4 ‘mini-comics’ that were left out of this edition. I checked to see what they were, and they all seem to be variations on Takeuchi saying ‘oh my god my old art is so bad’ and ‘deadlines are HAAAAARD’ and the like. So they would have been nice to see, but are not remotely essential.

Honestly, by the end of this volume I was feeling wrung out. There’s so much drama and emotion going on, in such a small amount of pages – remember, the anime took around 36-37 episodes to get to this point in the manga. Volume 3 will see the wrap-up of the first arc, and it should be a doozy. Let’s hope that destiny can be fought – well, except the destiny of true love conquering all, of course. That can stay.

By Nagaru Tanigawa and Puyo. Released in Japan as “Suzumiya Haruhi-chan no Yuutsu” by Kadokawa Shoten, serialization ongoing in the magazine Shonen Ace. Released in North America by Yen Press.

Yes, it still has a narrow audience. Yes, many of its punchlines are Osaka-style, i.e. someone says something dumb and the straight man shouts “Are you kidding?”. And yes, it’s still cutesy-wootsy and superdeformed a good deal of the time (though honestly, less so than in prior volumes). And yet I still love this series as it honestly makes me laugh a lot.

I’ll see if I can divide this review of Vol. 4 into 3 parts: the silly, the fanservicey, and the character development (which remains surprisingly large for a gag manga based on something else). For those looking for pure silly comedy, the manga has you covered. Asakura and Kimidori-san solve a murder in their own adorable way; Haruhi invents what must be the world’s only game of Extreme Othello, combining it with badminton to lethal effect; and best of all, Koizumi attempts to train the others to prepare for Haruhi during April Fools’ Day by having Mori dress up as Haruhi and say things she would normally say… which in the end appears just to be an excuse to humiliate and embarrass Mori. But in the most adorable way!

The fanservice chapters are not ashamed to be completely pandering, either. There’s nothing explicit – this is a manga that anyone could read, really – but the blatant school tag game with all the girls in swimsuits even lampshades it by having the male characters doing their own, unseen tag game elsewhere, while we ogle Haruhi, Mikuru and company in swimsuits. And at the end, Haruhi tries to come up with an exercise routine that gets far too sexy far too fast, going so far that even she ramps herself back after revealing a bit too much of her internal monologue out loud. Naturally, these fanservice shots are NOT superdeformed, as the whole point is to look at the fine female form.

Then there’s the Kyon and Haruhi relationship, which is very well handled in the two chapters it gets a focus. On one, Koizumi has rigged a contest so that he gets to pick what the losers do, and gets Yuki to rig it further so that Kyon and Haruhi are the losers. You can see where this is going; he forces them on a date, complete with his own pre-written script. The fun here is seeing Kyon and Haruhi’s punch-drunk reactions at having to say all this cornball romantic dialogue, and seeing the occasional glimpse of their real feelings almost derail things “Don’t go off the script, jerk!” is positively ADORABLE here, especially with the huge blush. Sadly, there’s one line they won’t cross, even if it’s for a bet. On a fluffier note, we get a rewrite of Live Alive where Kyon and Haruhi, both bored, decide to wanter the culture festival together – but they are not a couple.

Lastly, I was highly amused by the chapter where Nagato got her roommates drunk on amazake (aliens have no alcohol tolerance) and we discover the amazing effects that a hangover can have on Asakura. It is incredibly strange seeing her like that, and I have to wonder if it might have been a shout-out to the author’s other Haruhi spinoff, The Disappearance of Nagato Yuki. Best line of the volume comes here (trying not to spoil), from Yuki: “This must be what a parent feels like when their child surpasses them… the bittersweet sadness of parenthood…”

Only buy this if you like Haruhi. But if you do, it’s a hoot. And miles better than the ‘official’ manga is.

By Mayu Shinjo. Released in Japan as “Ai wo Utau Yori Ore ni Oborero!” by Shogakukan, serialized in the magazine Shoujo Comic (“Sho-Comi”). Released in North America by Viz.

This is a turning point for Ai Ore! in many ways. It’s the last volume published before the move from Shogakukan to Kadokawa Shoten, which is why it reads very much like it’s ending. It marks a point where the series stops trying to be a satire or parody of these sorts of mangas and simply becomes another example of them, albeit a funny one. And it also has Akira develop to the point where, though I still have a few reservations, I can now admit without irony that I am enjoying this title.

For one thing, this volume doesn’t even pretend to be about Mizuki anymore. Akira is the star here, and most of what we see are his attempts to deal at being in love with Mizuki. He wants to win her affection and love, his hormones are raging at him to seduce her as soon as possible, and he’s getting bad advice all round from many of his friends – some of which, in fact, we’ve seen him use before in earlier chapters. Akira is trying to find a balance between ‘women like a strong, sexy guy who can take command’ and ‘I know what’s best for her because I am an asshole’, and it’s not as hard a line to cross as he would like.

This makes him stand out from other typical Shogakukan male heroes, even more than the cutesy pretty girl looks he’s stuck with. An excellent example is a chapter where a rival shows up – Tsubasa, another pretty boy who looks like a girl that Mizuki met and accidentally enthralled a couple of years earlier. He challenges Akira to a competition, with Mizuki being the winner. Akira, of course, accepts, and is very curt to Mizuki – “just sit back and wait for me to come claim you”, he notes, and you want to smack him all over again. The contest itself, though, which shows him basically letting his lecherous classmates practically rape him just so that he can get their vote – shows that power is not really what drives him at all. And a good thing too, as he’s so bad at using it.

The end of that chapter has Ran, the slightly more sensible of Akira’s two playboy friends, asking him “Have you given any thought to how Mizuki feels about this?” Well, no, he hadn’t. It’s only partly his fault – Mizuki is still the weak link in this story, though she’s not as bad as she has been. We don’t worry as much about her doubting her femininity or trying to act girly… but we also empathize with Akira, as her waffling really is driving the reader crazy now as well. Mizuki here, I believe, finally at least understands what love is, and that she’s madly in love with Akira. I just wish the couple had better communication. But then I say that about most manga couples.

In the last chapter, everything comes together. Mizuki says that she loves Akira, Akira realizes that this wasn’t something that he could have forced, no matter how he tried, and the two have now been intimate. As I said, it READS like an ending – readers of Shoujo Comic would be satisfied with the way it wrapped up here. Of course, if they also purchased Kadokawa Shoten’s Asuka, they would see the series continue – and so will we, with Vol. 4. Which will also see it return to standard 200-page format, I believe. In any case, finally recommended with few reservations.

Also, great title drop right at the end there, for folks who wondered what Ai wo Utau Yori Ore ni Oborero meant.

By Natsume Ono. Released in Japan by Shogakukan, serialized in the magazine Ikki and in various doujinshi. Released in North America by Viz.

It’s time for another Manga Movable Feast, this one timed for the release of Tesoro, a collection of short stories by Natsume Ono. It’s a good collection to discuss, as I think it contains most of her strengths and weaknesses in one convenient package. Plus it has a bear on the cover. Everything’s better with bears.

The strengths of the book are mostly all at the front, as she’s put her later work first. This is good, as by 2003-2006 (the period we see here), she’s already developed and honed her style and type of dialogue. There’s some Italian stuff here, as you’d expect (it’s almost inevitable by this point, Ono simply loves Italy – and no doubt finds the constant conversation she does easier to justify with Italian men). But there’s some excellent stuff that takes place in Japan as well, including what is probably my favorite of the collection, a story about a couple who are both very thin, and tend to have gossip floating around them. “Quiet stubbornness” is possibly the most defining trait of Ono’s men, and it’s in full flower here.

The other story that really captures the attention here is Eva’s Memory, about an orphan girl with a tendency to call various men her father and how that gets a man running for election into a bit of controversy. It’s told through the point of view of her friend, who has just the right amount of exasperation and sympathy. Which is good, as Eva also rides the line here between liking her and wanting to smack her. It’s a good thing that the politician in question is so nice… and there’s also a question of who her real parents actually are, something our hero finds out as he tries to help Eva and also regain his sense of optimism about anything good in the world.

The second half of the book contains doujinshi that were written in the late nineties and early 2000s, and it shows – they’re far messier, and not just in the art. There’s a story about a young man getting out of a 5-year prison stint (he killed someone while drunk driving) that cries out to be rewritten now that she’s at the height of her powers, but instead comes across as… well, here’s the thing. When Ono is on, you can read 800 pages of her characters sitting in one room talking and you don’t care a lick. When she isn’t, it’s all just so much verbosity that you want to scream at people to “get on with it!”. Likewise, her characters ride a fine line, as I noted above in the Eva story. In a later story involving a girl named Monica and her bad luck with men, she came across as the villain to me, so I never got into the story.

Tesoro is therefore an excellent sampler of Ono’s work, but not something that should be a beginning for anyone who wants to try her. They’re better off with Ristorante Paradiso, in my opinion. For the seasoned Ono fan, however, there’s several gems in here. And even the sketchy ones have something to pick out – the story involving the chef who wants to see a movie is almost incoherent at times, but the punchline is fantastic. (And yes, he’s right – it *is* OK if it’s The Sting).

By Kaneyoshi Izumi. Released in Japan as “Men’s Kou” by Shogakukan, serialized in the magazine Bessatsu Comic (“Betsucomi”). Released in North America by Viz.

I’d put off reviewing this final volume for a while. I’m a romantic sop at heart, and it has to be said that much of what we see here is bittersweet. But then Seiho hasn’t really been about the happy warm fuzzy moments of relationships in any case. This is realistic, and that’s not always pretty.

First off, Nogami and his nurse girlfriend don’t even get a mention. I guess we should assume they live happily ever… nah, I can’t. Presumably at some point Nogami says something colossally stupid and they break up. That leaves our two main couples, who have struggled with a) communication and b) how others see them since the start of this series, and it’s no different here. Miyabi has split up with Kamiki as she feels that she’s not cool enough to be seen beside him as his boyfriend. She also thinks of herself as stupid, which is questionable given how she shows easy flashes of understanding others in here. Kamiki is stubborn and understanding, though, and things eventually work out. Mostly, as it’s noted how fragile their relationship is.

Maki and Erika is another story. Having spent their entire time together talking around each other, it’s unsurprising to see their neither really knows how to read the other and see what the other one is thinking. And due to circumstances, Erika is leaving soon anyway. A lot of things come together here. The fact that they know little about each other; Maki jumping to conclusions; Erika having figured out that Maki is still in love with someone else (but not who it is)… and so they break up. (And the moment where Erika finds out about the other Erika, which I’d been waiting for for about 6 volumes, is actually very understated and quiet.) It’s very bittersweet, and though Maki indicates that he will definitely ask her out if he ever meets her again, it’s melancholy as well.

Still, the boys all move up to being third years, and Maki gets stuck with the RA job (which he’s perfect for, admittedly). All seems well. This means, like the first volume in this series, we have to end with a sleazy shoujo smut story complet4ely unrelated to Seiho itself. Reverse Guilt is about a former ‘princess’ whose grades weren’t good enough for an elite school and so is now shunned. She tries to hide from life, but has trouble with this as the hottest, jerkiest guy in school is in love with her. He used to be a poor, abused child. He isn’t anymore. More communication misunderstandings here, but this time it makes you yearn for the relative niceness of the Seiho cast. Even Nogami wouldn’t be quite as bad as the guy is in this short. There’s also some explicit sexual situations here, for those who note this is still rated OT.

Overall, despite that, the main series was a great pickup for Viz. I know it didn’t sell quite as well as their other licenses of this period, but then it’s not big or flashy. It’s a series about a bunch of goofy guys who remind us of ourselves, and their ephemeral high school years. Definitely a keeper.

Hey, Takano never found out that Maki’s old girlfriend had the same name! Grr…

By Kou Yaginuma. Released in Japan as “Futatsu no Spica” by Media Factory, serialized in the magazine Comic Flapper. Released in North America by Vertical.

Foreshadowing can be a dangerous thing, especially when we want to be wrong. In amongst all of the love of space and hope for the future and plucky youngsters banding together, Twin Spica has taken us to some very uncomfortable places. And this volume makes us realize that they aren’t going away, and that our gang of five is not going to be together forever like many a manga series before it. Real life is intervening.

It’s especially ironic given that we also deal in this volume with the sheer stubborn determination to never give up that several of the lead characters have. Marika’s poor self-image and distrust of her own feelings and memories wars with her determination to go past that and see what she can achieve as her own person. Fuchuya continuing to persevere despite the fact that it still appears that he only is doing this so that he can be near Asumi. And of course Asumi herself, who may be incredibly tiny but still has the endurance of most grown men, and is running herself half to death even on her days off.

The middle of this volume shows the five kids relaxing once again in Asumi’s hometown for a vacation. It’s mentioned several times that they should try to do this every year – in fact, it starts to be a little ominous. And once Marika reveals her secret to the others, we begin to suspect that this story is going to end, if it does pick one, with only Asumi actually making it out into space. I don’t know any spoilers, but the basic theme of “keep on trying even if you lose your dream” seems to speak to that. Powerful words, but they can be hard to live up to.

In addition to Fuchuya’s crush, hidden to Asumi but obvious to everyone else, there’s also Kei and Shu. Her crush is even less hidden, and it’s possible that Shu does know about it, but he’s so inscrutable that it’s hard to get a handle on him. Their scene together at the festival is really sweet and heartwarming, giving you a brief look at typical awkward high school romance in a series that in generally not about that.

And then we get that ending, which I will attempt not to spoil. Again, I note Twin Spica’s ability to be both uplifting and soul crushing at the same time. The majority of this volume has tended towards the former, so we were probably due. Of course, it’s mostly a cliffhanger here, and I’m sure we will deal with the fallout in volume 11. But I admire the author’s ability to convey on the page what’s going on – that feeling where your heart stops, your head is buzzing and dizzy, and you want to deny everything that’s being told to you. This is where the silence of the printed page works best.

Due to Vertical’s condensing of the series into 12 volumes, we’re only 2 away from the end. (I believe that this volume was half of 11 and all of 12 in Japan). I’ll miss it. Asumi is a heroine you really want to root for, and I’m really curious as to how realistic this series will get. Will one of the group – OK, will Asumi if we’re honest – he able to get past all the roadblocks and make it into space? Or will this be like all those sports mangas that show the team all coming together but losing in the semifinals? And will I be able to read the start of Volume 11 without curling into a tiny little ball?