Manga Bookshelf

Discussion, Resources, Roundtables, & Reviews

Blog

The Shadow in the North by Philip Pullman: A-

by

From the back cover:
The year is 1878, and the spirited Sally Lockhart, once again defying Victorian sensibilities, has gone into business for herself. When one of her clients loses a large sum of money in the unexpected collapse of a British shipping firm, Sally sets out to investigate. But as she delves deeper into the identity of the wealthy and elusive industrialist who owns the doomed company, she uncovers a plot so diabolical that it could eventually subvert the entire civilized world—and if Sally’s enemies have their way, she won’t live long enough to see it happen.

Philip Pullman continues the nerve-shattering story of his canny and courageous heroine in this second Sally Lockhart mystery.

Review:
Pullman made me cry like a great big sap again! And more than once, this time.

The Shadow in the North took place 6 years after the first book in the series, and the main characters underwent some changes in that time. Sally, awesomely, attended Cambridge and set up her own financial consulting business. Fred, the photographer, was personally much the same but had been trying unsuccessfully for years to get Sally to marry him, which led to several wonderful half-loving, half-antagonistic scenes between them. Jim, the erstwhile office boy, grew up into a young man with a taste for action and a way with the ladies.

By far, the characters were the best part about the book. I loved each of the three main characters, but found many of the random people encountered as part of the investigation to be interesting, as well. I was also quite fond of Sally’s dog, Chaka. Probably because Pullman took care to show how much the fiercely loyal and protective dog loved her. Okay, yes, this was one thing that made me cry.

I didn’t think the mystery was all that interesting, though. The question was more “how do these things fit together?” and largely dealt with industrial misdeeds. Perhaps that was the point, though. This case, which might seem rather mundane on the surface, ended up impacting the characters most profoundly. And since that is what’s most important to me, I still enjoyed the book very much.

A note on the audio edition: Anton Lesser was again amazing as narrator, but I think the book might actually have been censored. While referencing my paper copy, I noticed that one paragraph, prelude to an act of physical intimacy, was excised and that some lines of post-coital dialogue were altered. The omitted bits were kind of clumsily unsubtle, so it’s possible that Pullman himself did a rewrite at some point, but it does make one suspicious.

Love*Com 4 by Aya Nakahara: A

by

From the back cover:
Risa has finally realized that she has feelings for Ôtani and can’t wait to confess her love. But dense Ôtani won’t take her hints! With the help of all their friends and a romantic beach vacation, can Rise get her affections past his thick head?

Review:
What makes this series special to me is actually its normalcy. Simply put, it’s about a girl in love with a guy friend. Her internal agonizings and doubts over the fact are realistic and understandable.

In this volume, Risa was determined to make her feelings known to Ôtani. Hints fail, so she tried telling him outright, to no avail. His continuing cluelessness was kind of unbelievable, but he finally got the message. I was kind of bothered by all the yelling and name-calling that ensued in these chapters—I get that Risa was trying to act like her old self around him, but it just seemed more pervasive than before. I’d be glad to see this aspect of their relationship go by the wayside.

With these complaints, it might seem strange to grade it so highly, but Risa’s struggle was really well done. And there were a few great moments between them, especially after Ôtani realized it was him she liked. He thought it over very seriously, and I thought his eventual response to Risa was realistic, given the circumstances. I look forward to seeing where things go from here.

Anne of the Island by L. M. Montgomery: A-

by

From the back cover:
New adventures lie ahead as Anne Shirley packs her bags, waves good-bye to childhood, and heads for Redmond College. With old friend Prissy Grant waiting in the bustling city of Kingsport and frivolous new pal Philippa Gordon at her side, Anne tucks her memories of rural Avonlea away and discovers life on her own terms, filled with surprises… including a marriage proposal from the worst fellow imaginable, the sale of her very first story, and a tragedy that teaches her a painful lesson.

But tears turn to laughter when Anne and her friends move into an old cottage and an ornery black cat steals her heart. Little does Anne know that handsome Gilbert Blythe wants to win her heart, too. Suddenly Anne must decide if she’s ready for love…

Review:
There were so many things to like about Anne of the Island that they almost allow me to forget the things I wasn’t wild about.

As usual, I loved anything that pertained to Anne and Gilbert. Some of Montgomery’s best writing yet was in the scenes between them, I thought, as well as the scene where Anne refuses Gilbert’s only serious rival for her affections. I also liked how, through various encounters with suitors and the true hearts of even gallant-looking men, Anne was stripped of many of her unrealistic romantic illusions. Lastly, I appreciated the wistful lamentations on the necessity of change.

The things I didn’t like may seem trivial by comparison, but they were irksome enough before the Anne and Gilbert bits overshadowed them in my memory. I would’ve liked more detail on Anne’s school life. There was occasional information about the subjects she was taking or exams she was studying for, but no scenes at all of her in class. It seemed there was actually more detail on Davy’s exploits than on her education.

And speaking of Davy, how I dreaded his appearances! I knew that he’d get up to something, be overcome with guilt, and then learn a valuable lesson. Every time. I was also beyond tired of his constantly saying, “I want to know.”

Finally, I disliked the bit where Anne and her roommates attempted to euthanize a cat simply for hanging around their house. Thankfully, the chapter was constructed in such a way that his survival was already known before the act was described. And then, a few chapters later, some dude is hanging a dog! What’s up with all the pet killing?! Also, a male cat is described as calico, which would make him an extremely rare genetic anomaly. It isn’t impossible, but I rather think Montgomery just didn’t know that tricolor cats are almost exclusively female.

Incorrect Item from Pantry Tally:
1. currant wine instead of raspberry cordial
2. linament instead of vanilla
3. red dye instead of freckle lotion
4. white pepper instead of ginger

Size 12 is Not Fat by Meg Cabot: D

by

From the back cover:
Heather wells rocks!

Or, at least, she did. That was before she left the pop-idol life behind after she gained a dress size or two—and lost a boyfriend, a recording contract, and her life savings. Now that the glamour and glory days of endless mall appearances are in the past, Heather’s perfectly happy with her new size 12 shape and her new job as an assistant dorm director at one of New York’s top colleges. That is, until the dead body of a female student from Heather’s residence hall is discovered at the bottom of an elevator shaft.

The cops and the college president are ready to chalk the death off as an accident, the result of reckless youthful mischief. But Heather knows teenage girls… and girls do not elevator surf. Yet no one wants to listen even when more students start turning up dead in equally ordinary and subtly sinister ways. So Heather makes the decision to take on yet another new career: as spunky girl detective!

But her new job comes with few benefits, no cheering crowds, and lots of liabilities, some of them potentially fatal. And nothing ticks off a killer more than a portly ex-pop star who’s sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong…

Review:
Um, blurb writers? Portly means fat.

I’ve read a lot by Meg Cabot, so I wasn’t expecting greatness, but this book is downright bad. Heather is incredibly annoying and distressingly immature for a 28-year-old. She’s planning to enter college and is considering a pre-med major. Why? Does she have a genuine interest in medicine? Does she feel it’s her calling to help people? Nope. It’s just because she thinks the guy she fancies prefers professional women. And she makes comments like (paraphrased) “What 18-year-old girl wouldn’t be so flattered by a cute older dude’s attentions that she’d be willing to boff him on very little acquaintance?”

Let’s pause here so you can envision the steam pouring from my ears.

Her “investigation” is pretty excruciating. Much of it is based on assumptions, like “girls who like Ziggy would not elevator surf” and some of the conclusions reached are unsupported or nonsensical. All too frequently, the mystery (such as it is—I guessed the culprit very early on) takes a backseat to Heather’s unwelcome and uninteresting romantic shenanigans. She can’t even manage to search a dead girl’s room properly without being distracted by a dude’s butt.

I could go on, but I really just want to put this whole thing behind me. As my husband punningly put it, “This book was read, and then it blew.” I urge all to steer clear of this one.

From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E. L. Konigsburg: B

by

From the back cover:
Twelve-year-old Claudia Kincaid is restless. She wants to do something different, leaving her comfortable suburban life in Connecticut behind for awhile. And she wants to be gone just long enough to teach her parents to appreciate her. But as Claudia plans to run away, not just any place will do. She wants to live in style—in a place with a bit of luxury and some good company. Claudia settles on New York City’s Metropolitan Museum of Art. She invites her younger brother Jamie to come along too, not for companionship, but mostly because he is a miser and has saved up some money.

Unfortunately, the live-in at the museum isn’t all Claudia had hoped. She doesn’t feel any different than before. And soon she finds herself in the middle of an interesting museum mystery. Claudia sees a statue so beautiful that she cannot head back to Connecticut until she discovers its maker. The first clue is the statue’s former owner, Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, an unusual old woman who helps Claudia finally find her way home.

Review:
Children’s fiction is pretty hit or miss with me, it seems. Sometimes I love it to pieces, and other times I think I’m too old to really get it. I’m sure it would be fun for a 10-year-old to read about running away or having a secret, and they’d probably identify with all the sibling squabbles and stuff, but a stodgy grown-up like me can’t really get excited about any of it.

It was cute, and the idea that Claudia’s compulsion to run away (with every intention of returning) was all about the search for herself was kind of a subtle one. It’s not like she learned some “valuable lesson” about tolerance or something. It was rather old-fashioned, as one might expect from something penned in the ’60s, and on a few occasions, I’d swear the siblings’ dialogue wouldn’t have been out of place in some sitcom from that era.

I did really enjoy the illustrations done by the author. Claudia and Jamie were modelled after her own children and the drawings add further charm to the story—I particularly like the one where they’re looking rather bored while researching in a library.

I just wish I’d read it when I were younger.

Emma by Jane Austen: A

by

From the back cover:
“Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever and rich, with a comfortable house and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to distress or vex her.”

With this opening sentence, a reader might seem quite justified in thinking Jane Austen to have painted herself into a corner. What could possibly happen from here? In Austen’s comedic masterpiece, however, Emma fancies herself a superb judge of human character and becomes entrenched in the amorous affairs of her friends. In doing so, she remains oblivious to her own romantic possibilities, and the resulting comical misunderstandings are highly entertaining.

This book is the acme of Jane Austen’s work, wry and funny all at the same time.

Review:
Merriam-Webster defines bildungsroman as “a novel about the moral and psychological growth of the main character.” I don’t think I’ve ever read anything that fit that description more than Emma.

I didn’t much care for the title character at first. In fact, she initially reminded me of Lady Catherine from Pride and Prejudice, dispensing unsolicited advice and basing many of her opinions on assumptions and an inordinate amount of focus on social standing. I found myself gleefully anticipating her comeuppance.

When she did begin to improve, Austen handled the transition incrementally, using friends to prompt Emma to give up meddling or urge her to accept a social engagement she’d believed beneath her notice. She learned from rebukes and mistakes and gradually became someone more likeable. The feminist in me tells me I should be perturbed that so many of these chastising remarks were delivered by her eventual love interest, but since Mr. Knightley was my favorite character, I can’t really be bothered.

The events of the plot were somewhat predictable, in a “the young lady introduced into the story in act two must be destined for the young man introduced not long after” sort of way. A big secret revealed toward the end was not a particular surprise, and also seemed recycled from Sense and Sensibility. Also, as I’m coming to find common in Austen’s novels, the sillier characters were given such free rein to display their ridiculousness that they really got on my nerves.

The end of the novel, however, was satisfying. I liked the way in which Emma was forced to finally realize her feelings for Mr. Knightley, as well as the mortification and regret over her past conduct that ensued. The conclusion could be called too tidy, I suppose, with no one left lonely or unhappy, but I found no fault with it.

Kare Kano 2 by Masami Tsuda: A

by

From the back cover:
You know that couple who was obviously meant for each other, and everybody knew it, except them? That’s Yukino and Soichiro, the two top students in school, who are capable of anything other than a normal relationship. Still, despite all they’ve been through, it seems they could finally be getting together. But now, the school’s token pretty boy, Hideaki, is intent on wedging himself between them, for reasons they can’t begin to imagine.

Review:
One of the things I am enjoying most about Kare Kano is Tsuda’s innovative use of panels to dramatic effect. Take, for instance, the climax of chapter four. In what I would call one of the classic moments of shoujo manga, Yukino (after several failed attempts) finally reveals her feelings to Arima by silently taking his hand in the middle of a student council meeting. No words are spoken, and what follows are two pages of their facial reactions and then one final page, showing the both of them from behind. I can’t really explain why I love the perspective shift at the end so much, but I really do.

Another thing I like is that if a character is alone somewhere, like in a classroom or waiting outside a movie theatre, there will be a large panel of their environment and superimposed upon it will be tiny panels showing what’s going on in the immediate vicinity—some students laughing down the hall, a quiet patio, a couple meeting up for a date. There’s a lot of sky and clouds in her imagery, too, and though I won’t try to decipher its metaphorical meaning, it makes me realize the opening sequence of the anime was very appropriate. I must also mention the fabulous panel of Yukino’s silhouette against a darkening sky as she pined for Arima.

And, of course, I also like the story. I think I didn’t like the character of Hideaki much when I read this the first time, and now I wonder why that was. My second favorite chapter, after chapter 4, is chapter 7, where we see both Arima and Yukino’s differing perceptions of the same or similar events. Yukino worries she’s not good enough for Arima, and Arima worries he’s too boring in comparison with her, but by the end, they’ve each leant the other some optimism, so they end up reacting identically in a separate conversations with Hideaki. It’s neat.

Kare Kano 1 by Masami Tsuda: A+

by

From the back cover:
Yukino Miyazawa has it all—perfect grades, looks, the admiration of her peers. She’s the #1 student at her school… at least she was until he showed up. The new boy, Souchirou Arima, one-ups her in every department. And the worst thing about it is that he’s sincere! With her ego in jeopardy, Yukino will do whatever it takes to regain the spotlight, but falling in love was never part of the plan.

Review:
What with watching the first disc of the anime twice, reading this volume way back in 2003, and rereading it now, I have consumed this portion of the Kare Kano storyline four times. I’ve read many other things in the interim, and I have to say this is still one of the best first volumes I’ve ever come across.

It’s so good it could function as a stand-alone. I didn’t like the anime much by its conclusion, though, and I’ve heard some unflattering comments about the manga, too, so I’m interested to see how I’ll like the bits I’ve not yet read. At the very least, I’ll always have volume one!

There are only three chapters collected in this volume, followed by an unrelated (but cute) short story. My favorite was the second. Arima, who had previously confessed romantic feelings to the “perfect” Yukino but who has since discovered that Yukino is a fraud, uses this knowledge to seemingly blackmail her into completing his student council work for him, which keeps her at school until late every evening.

When she finally tires of it and tells him he can go ahead and tell everyone her secret, a fabulous chase scene through the darkened halls and grounds of the school ensues until Arima finally prevails and reveals that he actually just did it to have an excuse to hang around her. Yukino finds that she’s relieved to learn that he actually does still care about her, and her gradual recognition of her feelings for Arima is very well done.

The other two chapters provide additional background on each of the main leads, though Arima is still kind of hard to figure out at this point. That’s probably because Yukino’s goal is shallow and simple—she wants to feel worshipped—while Arima is actually dealing with some darker family issues.

I really hope I don’t end up as displeased with this series as it seems others have done. For now, it’s hard to imagine that being the case.

Anne of Avonlea by L. M. Montgomery: B+

by

From the back cover:
At sixteen Anne is grown up… almost. Her gray eyes shine like evening stars, but her red hair is still as peppery as her temper. In the years since she arrived at Green Gables as a freckle-faced orphan, she has earned the love of the people of Avonlea and a reputation for getting into scrapes. But when Anne begins her job as the new schoolteacher, the real test of her character begins.

Along with teaching the three Rs, she is learning how complicated life can be when she meddles in someone else’s romance, finds two new orphans at Green Gables, and wonders about the strange behavior of the very handsome Gilbert Blythe. As Anne enters womanhood, her adventures touch the heart and the funny bone.

Review:
There were some things that irritated me about Anne of Avonlea, even though it’s similar to its predecessor in pacing and story. Chiefly, I missed the adult perspective I enjoyed so much in the earlier work. There weren’t many segments at all from Marilla’s point of view this time around and without that fond yet practical outlook, Anne and her dreamy ramblings sometimes got on my nerves. I also found irritating two little boys, one mischievous and one fanciful, that it seemed I was supposed to find precious.

I did, however, like any scene where Anne and Gilbert were together or any where a potential relationship between them was discussed. The entire final quarter of the book—featuring a storm, a death, a wedding, and several departures—was also very good. Marilla made me all sniffly again, too, by arranging for it to be possible for Anne to go to college after all, an aspiration she had set aside in order to stay with Marilla, whose eyesight was failing. The college setting should put Anne and Gilbert together more often, and I’m looking forward to that.

As a final note, I’m going to start a tally of how many times Anne gets into a scrape as the result of grabbing the incorrect item from a pantry. So far, from the first two books, I have:
1. currant wine instead of raspberry cordial
2. linament instead of vanilla
3. red dye instead of freckle lotion.

Feel free to alert me in comments if I’ve missed any.