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Random Musings: Notable in 2017

December 23, 2017 by Ash Brown

Towards the end of the year for the past few years here at Experiments in Manga, I have made a point to compile a list of some of the manga, comics, and other books that have been released during the previous twelve months that to me were particularly notable for one reason or another. It’s not a “best of” list, nor is it necessarily a list of my favorite releases from the past year (although admittedly some of them are). Instead, it’s a list of books which stood out to me for one reason or another that I both read and were released in 2017. I certainly haven’t read everything that was published in the last year, so the following titles have been taken from an already limited selection. For the sake of this list, I also decided to focus on debuts and one-shots rather than ongoing series. And while the list doesn’t include all of the noteworthy releases or even all of my favorites from the last year, I have tried to highlight one of the trends from 2017 that made me particularly happy–the continued growth and inclusion of queer representation and themes within the works being published.

The Girl from the Other Side: Siúil, a Rún, Volume 1That being said, one of the manga that left the deepest and most lasting impressions on me in 2017 was The Girl from the Other Side: Siúil, a Rún by Nagabe. Both the series’ haunting story and beautiful artwork are marvelously atmospheric. Nagabe delicately balances sweetness and charm with darkness and tragedy. It isn’t unusual for horror manga to explore the monstrosity of humans and the humanity of monsters, but The Girl from the Other Side does so with incredible nuance.

My Lesbian Experience with LonelinessManga tends to be a niche within the larger niche of comics, but every so often there is a work that gains recognition and acclaim outside of the usual audiences. Kabi Nagata ‘s autobiographical My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness is one example of a manga from 2017 that found a wide readership; Nagata’s authentic, frank, and honest depiction of her struggles with depression, anxiety, sexuality, and feelings of isolation resonated deeply with others’ personal experiences.

My Brother's Husband, Omnibus 1Gengoroh Tagame is an important creator who is known worldwide, so it’s probably no surprise that his series My Brother’s Husband would garner a fair amount of attention as well. Quite different in tone from Tagame’s sadomasochistic and homoerotic manga, My Brother’s Husband is a wholesome work which tackles and refutes socially and culturally ingrained prejudices–such as homophobia–through the lens of family. The manga’s message is not subtle, but it is a good one.

I Hear the Sunspot I Hear the Sunspot by Yuki Fumino is a quieter and more understated work dealing with the impact of disabilities on relationships, romantic and otherwise. It’s a lovely and thoughtful manga which treats its naturally complex characters with respect, acceptance, and understanding. I Hear the Sunspot is actually the beginning of a series, something that I didn’t realize when I first read it. The volume stands very well on its own, but I certainly look forward to reading more.

Sweet Blue Flowers, Omnibus 1My introduction to the work of Takako Shimura was through Wandering Son, a manga which is tremendously meaningful to me. I was very happy then when her other major series, Sweet Blue Flowers, finally received a proper release in English in 2017. (It only took three different publishers.) On the surface, Sweet Blue Flowers can tend towards the melodramatic, but Shimura’s layered portrayals of young women who love other young women are still emotionally convincing and compelling.

After Hours, Volume 1Most of the yuri that has so far been translated into English generally falls into the category of schoolgirl manga, so it is wonderfully refreshing to see series featuring adult women, like Yuhta Nishio’s After Hours, being published as well. It’s also immensely satisfying to see a relationship develop between two women that, while not without its complications, is largely free of angst. After Hours, along with Sweet Blue Flowers, is also notable for being Viz Media’s first real foray into the yuri genre.

Murciélago, Volume 1Yoshimurakana’s Murciélago is likewise a manga that features adult women in adult situations. But in this case, the series makes no attempt at realism. Murciélago is ridiculously over-the-top top and extreme. The manga is lewd and crass, but it can also be massively entertaining in its outrageousness. However, due to the explicit sex, violence, and gore, Murciélago is definitely not a series that can be recommended to just anyone. Predatory lesbian assassins understandably have limited appeal.

The Backstagers, Volume 1: Rebels without ApplauseThere were a great number of wonderful queer-friendly comics released in 2017, but James Tynion IV and Rian Sygh’s The Backstagers  is particularly delightful. The comic is a tremendous amount of fun, featuring energetic artwork, an entertaining story, and a marvelously diverse cast. Especially noteworthy is the series’ challenging of gender stereotypes through the positive representations of a wide range of masculinities. The Backstagers even includes a transguy as a prominent character!

So Pretty / Very RottenAnother engaging work from 2017 that deals with gender, identity, and self-expression in interesting ways is So Pretty / Very Rotten: Comics and Essays on Lolita Fashion and Cute Culture by Jane Mai and An Nguyen. The individual pieces in the collaboration vary significantly in tone and style, ranging from accessibly academic to intensely personal, but the volume is an informative and fascinating examination of Lolita culture and its influence both inside and outside of Japan.

A Small Charred FaceI don’t tend to seek out vampire fiction, so was it not for the fact that A Small Charred Face was written by Kazuki Sakuraba, translated by Jocelyne Allen, and published by Haikasoru, I might not have gotten around to reading the novel. Hearing A Small Charred Face described as being BL-adjacent certainly caught my attention, too. The novel is an unexpectedly beautiful and heartbreaking work about outsiders, found family, and the intimate connections that tie people together.

Notes of a CrocodileMiaojin Qiu was an influential lesbian author whose work has made a lasting impact on Taiwanese culture; her acclaimed novel Notes of a Crocodile is considered to be a cult classic of queer literature. The work is both metaphorical and literal in its exploration of gender, sexuality, and identity, combining fantasy and reality in a way that is tremendously compelling and at times even devastating. While not always an easy read, Notes of a Crocodile is a rich and powerful work.

Filed Under: FEATURES, Random Musings Tagged With: comics, manga, Nonfiction, Novels

Sweet Blue Flowers, Omnibus 2

December 22, 2017 by Sean Gaffney

By Takako Shimura. Released in Japan as “Aoi Hana” by Ohta Shuppan, serialized in the magazine Manga Erotics F. Released in North America by Viz. Translated by John Werry.

Shameful confession to make: while I always enjoy Shimura’s series when I read them, I will note that it’s sometimes hard for it to stay in my memory, particularly when so much other yuri is already coming out. Not helping the matter is the fact that, while I do love her art, I sometimes have trouble telling her characters apart, particularly secondary characters. And thirdly, this particular omnibus seems to have backloaded the more interesting material. (There is a very helpful “Let’s meet the cast” list at the start of the second half/4th volume, which I realize is meant to be something of a parody but which I could honestly have used at the beginning.) Add all these things together and I’m left with a volume that I did not enjoy as much as the first. I suspect Sweet Blue Flowers may be a series that rewards marathoning the entire series in one gulp.

The first half, Volume 3, has the cast invited to Kyoko’s summer home for a vacation, which has horseback riding, and scary stories, and one of the secondary girls falling for Akira’s brother, which I’m honestly happy about because he gets so much abuse from his sister that he could use some nice things happening to him. Akira, meanwhile, is stricken with a cold, as is Fumi. This means that Akira is there to overhear some of Kyoko’s family drama and also with Fumi finally admitting that Akira was her first love, with all the awkwardness that comes with it. And we write Yasuko out of the story, at least for now, as she comes to terms with the fact that her crush is marrying the girl he loves (which isn’t her), and tries to apologize to Fumi for what happened between them (which doesn’t go well), then flies off to England. And so the fourth volume introduces new first-years, new potential relationships, and more and more of Fumi being a bit of a wreck.

This is not an easy yuri series, one that goes down smoothly and leaves a smile on your face. And it’s also not a series that seems to magically have no men in it whatsoever. Men are here, and they get into relationships with some of the cast. Girls have crushes on other girls, and then get over them. But we also have their teacher Yamashina-sensei, who gets a chapter devoted to her which seems to be about the bitter, unrequited love of youth – followed by the bitter, unrequited love of a student with a crush on her – but ends in a sweet way that shows us that it’s not ALL going to be angst and drama. I think Shimura may have realized that she was laying it on a bit thick – in the second half we get Haruka and Ryoko, two students who seem so far to be a bit less burdened with baggage than others. But we still have Fumi, and her attempts to try to be a bit more outgoing – which doesn’t work well – are very true-to-life but also painful.

Sweet Blue Flowers is a good series. That said, it’s exhausting as well, and I suspect that it’s best enjoyed either in one gulp – waiting till the other two omnibuses are out – or in smaller quantities, such as reading only half and then coming back. There is such a thing as too much Fumi. (And too be fair, too much Akira, though that’s slightly less pressure-heated.)

Filed Under: REVIEWS, sweet blue flowers

Manga the Week of 12/27/17

December 22, 2017 by Sean Gaffney, Michelle Smith, Ash Brown and Anna N 1 Comment

SEAN: Well, it would be a quiet final week of 2017… were it not for Kodansha, who are determined to break us.

First off, yes, they did it again. Out already is Living Room Matsunaga-san, a title that was announced after Manga the Week of went to press. It looks like a typical shoujo title from Dessert.

MICHELLE: So far, I feel kindly disposed enough toward Dessert titles to give this one a look.

ANNA: Me too!

SEAN: Dark Horse has a 5th Drifters, whose volumes come out so infrequently I tend to forget what’s going on beyond “crazy faces”. Which, honestly, is probably for the best.

ASH: The fifth volume already?! After years between the releases of the third and fourth volume, a few months between the releases of the fourth and the fifth seems like no time at all.

SEAN: And there’s a 2nd Legend of the Piko Piko Middle School Students, a wacky Evangelion parody/comedy thing.

J-Novel ends two of their ongoing light novel series next week. Bluesteel Blasphemer wraps up with its 4th volume. And, while it’s not an official “ending”, My Big Sister Lives in a Fantasy World has no current plans for new volumes after Vol. 7.

Kodansha. Wow. They have print! We get new volumes of Attack on Titan: Before the Fall (12), Land of the Lustrous (whose anime has really exploded in Western fandom) (4), Love & Lies (3), and That Time I Got Reincarnated As a Slime (whose novel came out last week from Yen) (3).

ASH: Despite not always completely understanding what’s going on in Land of the Lustrous, I am enjoying the series and its striking artwork.

SEAN: We have digital debuts! Yes, and I actually know about them in advance. My Boyfriend in Orange is, yes, another Dessert title (Dessert is the new Betsufure). This time the boyfriend seems to be a firefighter. Pitch-Black Ten runs in Shonen Magazine R, and seems to be a supernatural series.

MICHELLE: I could cut and paste my line from above here, too. It’s not that I really crave a romance series with a fireman in it, but eh. Okay. Why not?

ANNA: Sure, why not?

SEAN: We have ongoing digital series! Piles of them. I think I got them all. DAYS 7, Domestic Girlfriend 13, Drowning Love 7, The Full-Time Wife Escapist 8, Giant Killing 9, House of the Sun 13, I Want to Hold Aono-kun So Badly I Could Die 2, Kounodori: Dr. Stork 7, Love’s Reach 6, and Peach Heaven 12. As always, I’m all about Wife Escapist, but I believe Michelle will be looking at the soccer.

MICHELLE: I will be looking at the soccer *and* the spouses! (But probably, yes, I do love Giant Killing the best.)

ANNA: So far behind on Wife Escapist. I will not give up though!

SEAN: There are publishers other than Kodansha with titles next week, oddly enough. Seven Seas’s debut is Unmagical Girl, a comedy series about a fictional magical girl who’s somehow brought into reality, and now has to cope with everyday life. I’m just happy to have a magical girl series that it’s “let’s kill the magical girls”. It apparently ran in a Pony Canyon magazine, but I think the license may have gone through Ichijinsha.

Seven Seas also has a 2nd Absolute Duo, a 4th Magical Girl Site (which is absolutely about killing magical girls), and a 4th Species Domain (which is actually pretty cute).

SuBLime has a 4th volume of The Night Beyond the Tricolored Window, which looks dramatic as hell.

MICHELLE: I love this series so much and have been eagerly anticipating volume four for a year!

ASH: I want this series in print so much!

MICHELLE: So do I! Even though I don’t mind reading digitally, I crave that extra security you feel when you own a tangible copy of something.

SEAN: Vertical has hit double digits with Witchcraft Works.

Lastly, Yen Digital has a 4th IM: The Great Priest Imhotep, who is still invisible, I believe. (I will never stop making that joke, sorry.)

Are you getting anything from this? Or still catching up with this week’s avalanche?

Filed Under: FEATURES, manga the week of

Baccano!: 1933 The Slash -Cloudy to Rainy-

December 21, 2017 by Sean Gaffney

By Ryohgo Narita and Katsumi Enami. Released in Japan by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Taylor Engel.

After a brief foray into the 21st century, Baccano! returns to its main plot, which takes place in the 1930s. Many of the main characters are featured in some way or another here, and in a way it feels like the author is writing enjoyable set pieces, as if he’s finally gotten a grip on writing everyone. Isaac and Miria are fun, loud, and seemingly completely random; Luck is seemingly cool but in reality rather frustrated with everything happening around him; Jacuzzi cries a lot but buckles down when he needs to, etc. That said, the book also features two minor characters from earlier books who get the spotlight here, and I suspect enjoyment of it depends on how much you enjoy those characters. It’s also, as you may have guessed by the title, the first of a two-parter, and unlike Grand Punk Railroad, this is definitely incomplete.

Tick Jefferson is in the top third of the cover art. We saw him before as the Gandor family’s torture expert, and he seemed like another of Narita’s ‘smiling insane guys’. Which he may be, to a lesser degree – he still really loves cutting people apart. But we get a bit of his family background, as well as a surprising amount of his philosophy, and see that when he’s not torturing people he’s surprisingly level-headed. His partner in the book (middle third of the cover) is Maria Barcelito, one of the assassins that we saw Claire completely destroy in the 4th novel, who joined the Gandors because she was so impressed by Keith stopping Claire. On the bright side, the Gandors gained a powerful assassins, probably their most powerful fighter. On the down side, Maria is annoying as hell, immature, can’t stop trying to cut anyone and anything with her swords, and is desperately in need of some humbling. Fortunately, she gets it in spades at the end of the book.

The bottom third of the cover art is Chane Laforet, the “girl in the black dress” from the Railroad books. The cliffhanger to those books had her being picked up by Jacuzzi’s gang, and she’s now living with them in Eve Genoard’s mansion in upper Manhattan (the explanation for why a gang is living in the Genoard mansion made me roll my eyes a bit, but I can see Eve just agreeing and then forgetting about it, especially given her obsession with finding Dallas). Chane doesn’t interact with Jacuzzi’s gang as much as I’d have liked, but she clearly values them highly as friends. She’s also clearly hooked up with Claire, something also implied at the end of the railroad arc, and I suspect Claire will have more to do in the next volume.

As for the villains, well, technically I suppose it’s Huey, though his daughter is unaware of what he’s doing. He has a group of people trying to offer Jacuzzi’s gang the power of immortality (please God no, I love the fact that Jacuzzi and Nice’s gang are just normal scrappy kids), though this goes south when their demo – Dallas Genoard, freshly retrieved from a sunken river and just as much of a giant dumbass – ends up getting too obnoxious and gets slashed. A lot. Immortality sounds great till you see that you can still feel horrible pain. We really only meet two of the villainous gang here. Tim is the leader and also shares a secret past with Tick Jefferson, and seems to be there to watch what was supposed to be a smooth situation spiral out of control. Adele is seemingly shy and meek… but in reality seems to really love fighting more than anyone. And we haven’t even met the mysterious Christopher yet…

This is a decent book, and I recommend it for those reading the series, obviously. That said, it really needs its second half, and feels slight as a result. It does have some rewards for the careful reader (watch Isaac and Miria’s reaction to the Genoard mansion), and Tick and Maria can be a lot of fun provided you don’t pay too much attention to how aggravating Maria is most of the time. You may want to wait till April and read this with its conclusion.

Filed Under: baccano!, REVIEWS

Children of the Whales, Vol. 1

December 20, 2017 by Anna N

Children of the Whales Volume 1 by Abi Umeda

Dystopia manga can sometimes be a bit tricky. Some have great world building, some have intriguing characters, some have compelling story lines, but you don’t often get a manga that has the perfect ratio of those three elements. I very much liked the setting of Children of the Whales, but the character and story development fell a little flat to me in the first volume.

The Mud Whale is an floating island adrift on a sea of sand, and Chakuro serves as the archivist, chronicling the lives of the people. One class of people with magical powers called thymia tend to die young. The less gifted are long-lived elders who end up governing the Mud Whale. One thing I liked very much about this title was the art. The desolate sea of sand contrasts with the rounded towers of the Mud Whale, and the bleak horizon in the background serves to underscore the isolation of the characters. Aspects of the art reminded me a little bit of Nausicaa, particularly the lack of hard edges and the look of the eroded buildings. The setting is one of the most compelling things about Children of the Whales, however I think the story could have benefited from being a bit more slowly paced. There was a bit of a tendency to dump way too much background information in Chakuro’s internal narration, instead of letting the reader discover this world in a more organic fashion. Since so much of the manga is spent in Chakuro’s head, the other characters just don’t seem as developed, with their motivations not as thoroughly explored.

As can be expected in a story that centers on an isolated society, when outside influences come in, the world of the Mud Whale is tested in unusual and violent ways. This first volume was intriguing, but it didn’t totally make me invested in wanting to find out what would happen to the characters, which is a little disappointing because it ends on a shocking cliffhanger. There were enough aspects of Children of the Whales that I did like that I would give the second volume a try, just to see if things come together a little bit better once all the exposition is out of the way.

Filed Under: viz media Tagged With: children of the whales, viz media

Umineko: When They Cry, Vol. 16

December 19, 2017 by Sean Gaffney

Story by Ryukishi07; Art by Eita Mizuno. Released in Japan in three separate volumes as “Umineko no Naku Koro ni: Requiem of the Golden Witch” by Square Enix, serialized in the magazine Shonen Gangan. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Stephen Paul.

It’s been nearly a year since we last checked in on Rokkenjima. We have two arcs left, and they’re both packed to the gills – each is nine volumes total. And they’re sometimes big volumes. That means this first omnibus of three by Yen is 826 pages long, but fortunately it doesn’t feel like you’re reading a lot. By now we’re familiar with everyone in the story, and since Requiem is, for the most part, devoted to explaining the mysteries from the previous six arcs, everything glides along very smoothly. Well, we’re familiar with almost everyone in the story. This volume is noticeably short on Battler, who only shows up at the very start. Instead we get Willard D. Wright, who is to S. S. Van Dine what Dlanor is to Ronald Knox. Battler was a teenager who liked mysteries, Willard is an actual detective. And he’s here to get answers, along with his Watson, the heir to the Ushiromiya family, Lion.

That’s Lion on the front cover there, and you might be forgiven for a certain lack of recognition. And also wonder, as Will does, what Lion’s gender is. Ryukishi07 has deliberately hidden this from us, and explicitly told the manga artist (best known for Spiral: Bonds of Reasoning) to do the same, so I will try not to use gender pronouns. That said, if you understand Kinzo’s monstrous sexism from previous arcs, you can easily hazard a guess as to what gender his beloved grandchild and heir is. Lion is a lot of fun (and yes, the name completes the horrible Eva – Ange – Lion pun), pinching Will’s ass whenever he acts callous, which is a lot of the time. Will is retired, and doesn’t want to be here, but Bernkastel is basically forcing him to solve everything for her master. So we see him ask Rosa about what happened that day in 1967, talk to Jessica about her own experiences with being rude to Beatrice (or more accurately, Maria), and find out how Kinzo really got all that gold and who Beatrice was originally. (Admittedly, Kinzo’s story seems very romantic and idealized – you’re left wondering if that’s really all that happened.)

The ugliest part of this volume is, hands down, the section where everyone talks about the fact that Kinzo raped his own daughter, and all the servants basically say “well, yeah, that happened, but he really loved her mother, see?”. It’s infuriating, and at least Genji had the good sense to hide the next generation down until he was sure it wouldn’t happen AGAIN. Speaking of which, as rapidly becomes clear, Lion’s existence here ties into the 5th arc, where Natsuhi shoved the baby she’d been given by Kinzo to raise as her own off a cliff. Lion is what happens when she DOESN’T do that, something that Bern says is an incredibly rare thing. It’s to Lion’s credit that the first thing that comes to mind is defending Natsuhi, who really is a loving mother here. Honestly, Lion holds up pretty well with everything that’s going on, especially when we find out that in all the worlds where Natsuhi shoved the baby off the cliff, we get Beatrice, not Lion.

Towards the end of this omnibus, Will reveals the culprit to Lion and Bernkastel – but not to us, as we’re still supposed to make guesses. That said, many of the hints are laid out in front of us this volume as well. The fact that Shannon and Kanon are the only ones besides Will to not know who Lion is. The fact that when Will asks Shannon to go get Kanon so he can talk to them together, Shannon has possibly the scariest mental breakdown in the entire series. And the fact that when we get the “culprit” POV at the end, we see her, in 1976, working with a Shannon who looks exactly the same age as she does in 1986. Speaking of the word culprit, if you weren’t already horrified by the Evangelion pun, the fact that the nickname for the culprit is “Yasu” will surely have you rolling your eyes and grinding your teeth – that is, if you know Japanese mystery games.

This is, incest apologia aside, one of my favorite arcs, and the manga artist does a great job bringing it to life. Next time around we’ll get more flashbacks, as “Yasu” grows up, falls in love, and becomes a witch. If you’ve been reading Umineko all along, this is an essential volume.

Filed Under: REVIEWS, umineko

Bookshelf Briefs 12/18/17

December 18, 2017 by Michelle Smith and Sean Gaffney Leave a Comment

Assassination Classroom, Vol. 19 | By Yusei Matsui | Viz Media – The first half of this book shows us that our heroes are still high school students, and thus powerless to a degree—they’re captured with astonishing ease. Of course, once we get them out of holding and back on the mountain (kudos to Irina, who shows off a few things I’m surprised Jump let her get away with—not least of which wanting to do Karasuma ten times a day) they’re in their element, and even the hardened trained assassins find that environment plays a key role. As for Koro-sensei, well, he’s trapped, and time is running out. The book makes it very clear that saving Koro-sensei is not going to fly with the general public. So what happens next? Can’t wait to find out. – Sean Gaffney

Captive Hearts of Oz, Vol. 3 | By Ryo Maruya and Mamenosuke Fujimaru | Seven Seas – As with its spiritual predecessor, Alice in the Country of Hearts, the goal of this series is to find out what the world is actually supposed to be. After reading this volume, it may be even less clear. I am grateful that, because this isn’t based on an otome game, there’s no real romance being played out here. (Romance could be some of the shadiest elements of the Alice series.) However, I’d like things to be just a little bit clearer, to be honest. I probably should have reread the first two books, as it’s been a while. That said, the general TONE of the book is fine, and it pushes all the right buttons that fans of this sort of series will want pushed. It’s just… HUH? – Sean Gaffney

Chihayafuru, Vol. 7 | By Yuki Suetsugu | Kodansha Comics (digital only) – Chihaya should be studying for exams, but she ditches a session with Desk-kun to see how Taichi’s doing in a tournament. It’s there she learns that Arata has resumed competing, and I so love Taichi’s reaction to this news. It’s obvious that he’s jealous, but seeing Chihaya so happy causes him to admit to himself that part of him is happy, too. Then, after some nice chapters in which the more lowly members of the Mizusawa karuta club offer sage advice to Taichi and Chihaya, we progress to the East Japan qualification tournament to decide challengers for the ranks of master and queen. Chihaya’s mastery of the game has improved, and it’s great to see her take on formidable opponents without making mistakes. It’s probably too early in the series for her to actually beat Shinobu, but I am in no rush. Every volume is a joy. – Michelle Smith

Everyone’s Getting Married, Vol. 7 | By Izumi Miyazono | Viz Media – Oh, long-distance relationships. Everyone goes into them filled with good intentions, but it never quite works out the way you want. Asuka and Ryo are certainly finding that out. She’s being strong and totally OK with him doing this, which makes sense for him, but… you can tell that she hates it, and that’s not being communicated. As such, even though everything is being done properly, it’s hard to not get that sense of impending doom, especially as everyone else is telling Asuka this as well. We also meet Ryu’s brother, who is the classic “I look totally scary but am really just overprotective” sort. We still have a couple of volumes to go… how is this going to sort itself out? – Sean Gaffney

Kuroko’s Basketball, Vols. 17-18 | By Tadatoshi Fujimaki | VIZ Media – Seirin has made it to the quarterfinals of the Winter Cup where they must face Yosen, a team that not only includes Kagami’s childhood friend/rival but also Murasakibara, an (enormous) member of the Miracle Generation. Kuroko debuts his new shooting skills (essentially, he adapts his passing technique instead of using proper form) and the various members of Seirin get their moment in the sun, especially Hyuga and Kiyoshi. And, of course, there’s a lesson, as Murasakibara’s approach has been that big people are always going to win at basketball, so there’s no use in anyone else trying. I must note that this series has just about reached The Prince of Tennis levels of implausibility involving some characters’ abilities, including a peanut gallery that calls out the names of moves, but I am still enjoying it immensely. – Michelle Smith

Of the Red, the Light, and the Ayakashi, Vol. 9 | By nanao and HaccaWorks* | Yen Press – So I will admit that throughout this series I’ve found the plot difficult to follow at the best of times, but for all that I appreciated this volume trying to lay things out for us. We get even more clarification about what ‘taking a meal’ entails, and also why Akane did what she did. Yue’s decision feels very much in character, and I suppose it could have been worse—the characters who were “eaten” don’t come back, but most of the Ayakashi are at least seen as around. As for Tougo, he is very unhappy with part of Yue’s decision, and takes it upon himself to try to fix it—also in character for him. Main series is over, time for extras! Will there be an epilogue? – Sean Gaffney

Princess Jellyfish, Vol. 7 | By Akiko Higashimura | Kodansha Comics – At one point while reading this, I had to step back a moment to just appreciate what an unexpected turn this story has taken. It’s not about saving the Amamizukan from destruction anymore. It’s about Tsukimi getting on a plane for the first time and flying to Singapore, Kuranosuke’s determination to get her back, Shu’s apparent willingness to let her go, and Hanamori’s promises to make enough money gambling to buy the Amars’ residence back from Kai, the fashion mogul who has whisked Tsukimi away on a new life. But, y’know, I’m not sure Tsukimi really wants to go back, and that’s what makes this series great. I think we could get a happy ending that preserves the status quo for most of the Amars while allowing Tsukimi to become something she never imagined. I am so eager to experience the final volumes! – Michelle Smith

Welcome to the Ballroom, Vol. 8 | By Tomo Takeuchi | Kodansha Comics – Well, I was wrong in my review of the last volume, where I said we would have an amazing breakthrough this time. Instead, we get more pain, angst, and torment from our lead couple, and everyone around Tatara yelling at him to figure things out or else stop this. They’re not going to tell him what the issue is, mostly as it can’t be conveyed well with words. And you get the sense by the end of the volume that he might be getting it. But I said that last time, and I’m not really sure that it’s worth crawling through broken glass every volume just to get to a bit of catharsis. Is this trip really necessary? – Sean Gaffney

Filed Under: Bookshelf Briefs

Pick of the Week: A Bounty of Manga

December 18, 2017 by Sean Gaffney, Katherine Dacey, Michelle Smith, Ash Brown, Anna N and MJ Leave a Comment

SEAN: Honestly, there’s just too much stuff. I feel like I’m drowning in choices. And so (because I suspect the rest of the group will go with CLAMP) I will go with an old favorite and pick the new Umineko When They Cry omnibus volume, Requiem of the Golden Witch. Fans love this arc, and the manga adaptation of it is supposed to be quite good. And at 826 pages, it can also be used as a blunt object.

KATE: I’m torn between the latest volumes of Golden Kamuy and Happiness, two of my favorite ongoing series. Since choosing between them seems like deciding whether you like your daughter better than your son, I’m going with Junji Ito’s Shiver, which has been getting great advanced buzz.

MICHELLE: I am actually not going to go with CLAMP, despite my intense love of Kero-chan, because this is the last time I can choose Say I Love You. I’ve enjoyed this series a lot, and have been anticipating this final volume for a long time. It’s definitely a must-buy for me this week.

ASH: So much manga! And so many new volumes in series that I’m following! Although I will certainly be giving the new Cardcaptor Sakura a try, I will continue to thwart Sean’s prediction by choosing another debut. Kate already has Shiver covered, which I’ll definitely be reading, but I’m also incredibly curious about Graineliers, so that’s my pick!

ANNA: I feel like one of us should not thwart Sean’s prediction! Thus, Cardcaptor Sakura is my pick! Let’s hope it is more like early CLAMP and less like late CLAMP!

MJ: Wow, I’m really torn here. I have a deep, deep love for Cardcapter Sakura so it’s really hard for me to let that go. But I don’t necessarily trust CLAMP to recreate that magic for me at this point, and I’m really a sucker for a new GFantasy title, so I’m with Ash on Graineliers! Thanks, Anna, for making Sean’s prediction at least a little true!

SEAN: I’m not sure I trust all this love for Grenaliers. I think the love for it may have been… planted. (puts on sunglasses, Roger Daltrey scream)

MJ: Wow.

Filed Under: PICK OF THE WEEK

My Week in Manga: December 11-December 17, 2017

December 18, 2017 by Ash Brown

My News and Reviews

Last week I posted the Bookshelf Overload for November, which also happens to be the final Bookshelf Overload feature here at Experiments in Manga since I will be entering semi-retirement as a manga blogger very soon. Otherwise, it was a fairly quiet week, as has been the case for quite some time now. I’ve been very busy at work trying to get a bunch of stuff done before the end of the year, so I haven’t even been paying much attention to what’s going on online. However, last week I discovered (or perhaps re-discovered?) that The Beast Player by Nahoko Uehashi will be published in English next year! Uehashi is the creator of Moribito, which I adore along with its anime adaptation. (Moribito would  have made a great topic for an Adaptation Adventures feature.) Sadly, only the first two novels in the Moribito series were ever released in English–Guardian of the Spirit and Guardian of the Darkness–but I’m very happy to see more of her work in translation.

Quick Takes

In This Corner of the WorldIn This Corner of the World by Fumiyo Kouno. Both of the manga by Kouno that have been released in print in English–Town of Evening Calm, Country of Cherry Blossoms and now In This Corner of the World–use the atomic bombing of Hiroshima during World War II as a major touchstone. However, while the event is certainly important to In This Corner of the World, it’s not the central focus of the series. In This Corner of the World largely follows the everyday life of Suzu, a young woman from a small fishing village in Hiroshima who has recently married and moved in with her husband’s family in the nearby city of Kure. The three-volume series, collected into a single omnibus for its English-language release, isn’t a manga with a driving plot. Instead, the chapters read like a compilation of closely-related remembrances. The theme of memories is one that is echoed throughout the entire manga. Although the subject matter of In This Corner of the World is certainly serious, with an authentic portrayal of some of the tragedies and heartbreak associated with war, Kouno has also created a quiet and lovely work with significant charm.

The Promised Neverland, Volume 1The Promised Neverland, Volume 1 written by Kaiu Shirai and illustrated by Posuka Demizu. The beginning of The Promised Neverland is very bright, but it doesn’t take much time at all for the series to execute an exceptionally dark turn. Emma and the other orphans at Grace Field House lead happy lives. They are surprisingly well-cared-for, provided with delicious food and an idyllic environment in which to grow into young, healthy children. But when Emma discovers the horrifying truth behind the orphanage’s purpose, she becomes determined to find a way for all of the children to escape. However, running away will be an extremely difficult task to accomplish, especially when plans must be devised and executed in complete secrecy. The Promised Neverland features an intense battle of wits as Emma and the others are suddenly faced with securing their own survival in an unforgiving world that is unlike anything that they were previously led to believe. The story is deeply unsettling, and Demizu’s artwork is more than up to the task of creating a chilling atmosphere. I am incredibly interested to see how The Promised Neverland continues to develop from here.

Filed Under: FEATURES, My Week in Manga Tagged With: Fumiyo Kouno, In This Corner of the World, Kaiu Shirai, manga, Posuka Demizu, Promised Neverland

Mangasia: The Definitive Guide to Asian Comics

December 18, 2017 by Katherine Dacey

The strengths and weaknesses of Paul Gravett’s latest book are neatly encapsulated in its title. Though the book purports to be a “definitive guide to Asian comics,” Gravett’s true aim is to trace the influence of the Japanese manga industry on comic book traditions across the Asian continent, from China and South Korea to Bhutan, India, Indonesia, Malayasia, Mongolia, and Vietnam.

Gravett’s thesis rests on two core assumptions. First, he argues that manga is Asia’s dominant comic book tradition, as evidenced by its “cultural influence and its extraordinary sales figures” (24); even Japan’s dojinshi (amateur) scene, he observes, “has more participants and publications than entire national markets” (31). Second, Gravett argues that colonialism played an essential role in extending manga’s reach beyond Japanese borders. The first wave of colonization was physical: as Japan invaded and occupied neighboring countries, manga proved “an ideal medium for spreading propaganda about the benefits of Japan’s leadership” and painting the Japanese as liberators, freeing Asia from Europe’s tyrannical grasp. The second wave of colonization was virtual: in the years following World War II, a demilitarized Japan reinvented itself as an industrial powerhouse, exporting consumer goods and pop-cultural products — manga, anime, and video games — in what Gravett characterizes as a “soft cultural invasion” of Asia and the West (14-15).

Gravett eschews a strictly chronological or geographical approach to the material, instead grouping his examples under six suggestive headings: “Mapping Mangasia,” “Fable and Folklore,” “Recreating and Revising the Past,” “Stories and Storytellers,” “Censorship and Sensibility,” and “Multimedia Mangasia.” This thematic approach gives him the freedom to explore parallels between manga and other Asian comic traditions in a creative — if sometimes non-linear — fashion. In his introductory chapter, for example, he traces the influence of Western comic strips across East Asia, showing how syndicated cartoons such as George McManus’ Bringing Up Father (1913-2000) and Oscar Jacobsson’s Adamsson (1920-1953) helped popularize the comic strip format with artists in Japan, Korea, China, and the Philippines, inspiring them to develop their own characters who were wrestling with “the allure of affluence, the desire for upward social mobility, and the nostalgia… for simpler past pleasures,” just as McManus’ Jiggs and Maggie did (28).

Two later chapters — “Recreating and Revising the Past” and “Censorship and Sensibility” — offer Gravett an opportunity to examine the complex dynamic between nationalism, censorship, and comics. Using the Phillippines as an example, Gravett explores the changing way in which Filipino artists depicted Japanese colonialism. His analysis focuses on three series: The Kalibapi Family, a wartime comic strip created at the behest of the Japanese Propaganda Corps; Kalawang sa Bakal (Corrosion of Steel), one of the first postwar comics to grapple with the horrors of Japan’s invasion of the Philippines; and Suicide Susy, a long-running series that pitted a spunky Filipina saboteur against Japanese soldiers. Over the course of forty years, Gravett observes, Japanese characters evolved from benign overlords to symbols of foreign oppression, reminders of Filipino collaboration, and — in the Marcos era — bumbling villains whose foolish antics distracted from the Marcos’ ruthless treatment of their own people.

“Censorship and Sensibility” also delves into gender politics. As one might expect, Gravett addresses genres such as yaoi, recognizing them as both pornography and resistance. “Manga about male-male romance,” he argues, “offer women an expressive playground in which to question and customize the alternatives to the oppressive heteronormativity of the powerful male and the weak female” (217). Gravett examines the legal complexities of obscenity laws as well, using Rokudenashiko’s protracted battle with the Japanese government to expose the inherent misogyny in many such regulations. He notes that she was convicted of distributing digital pictures of her vagina, but not for hanging manko (pussy) art in a gallery that only admitted women. “In the Japanese court’s eyes,” Gravett drily notes, “only men can be aroused by a vagina” (218-19).

For sheer visual beauty, Mangasia‘s stand-out chapter of  is “Fables and Folklore,” which focuses on comic-book adaptations of such important national texts as the Romance of the Three Kingdoms (China) and the Ramayana (India). The imagery runs the gamut from the merely functional to the photorealistic, with some genuinely striking selections. Zhang Guangyu’s wordless treatment of Journey to the West (1945), for example, is a unique synthesis of Chinese, Persian and Mexican influences, yielding a series of images that are at once playful and somber, rendered in a muted palette similar to Diego Rivera’s most famous murals, while Anant Pai and Ram Waeerkar’s Hanuman (1971) strikes an elegant balance between classical Hindu depictions of the popular deity and contemporary portrayals of superheroes and martial artists.

As one might expect from such a wide-ranging book, Mangasia‘s chief fault is its ambition: Gravett discusses examples from nineteen countries over a 100-year period, a tall order for a single volume. Important texts and artists get a few sentences each, making it difficult to fully appreciate their impact on the comics medium in their own countries or elsewhere. Likewise, historical contexts are rendered in broad strokes, through timelines and generalizations. In “Stories and Storytellers,” for example, Gravett asserts that “In the aftermath of World War II, the next generation in Japan strived to make their lives better,” a sentence that only hints at the incredible devastation caused by American bombing, or the economic hardships faced by ordinary Japanese citizens in the 1950s (164).

The title itself points to another drawback of Gravett’s approach: some of the examples in Mangasia bear only a tenuous visual connection to manga. In the absence of a clear, specific discussion of how manga influenced comics outside the immediate sphere of Japanese colonization, the reader is left to wonder whether a comic book retelling of the Mahabharata owes a debt to Shotaro Ishimonori, or if the story borrows more heavily from Indian sources. Some attempt to demonstrate the size of the international manga market, identify the countries where manga is most popular with readers, discuss the global piracy of manga, or examine manga fandoms across the Asian continent would have provided useful context for understanding how manga has insinuated itself into such a diverse array of comic traditions.

Whatever the limitations of a pan-Asian survey, Gravett recognizes the enormous cultural, religious, and historical differences that separate Muslim Indonesia from Hindu India, Buddhist Tibet, and the Catholic Philippines. If these differences are sometimes glossed over in service to his thesis, Gravett nonetheless does an admirable job of balancing discussion of Asian comics as a singular phenomenon and Asian comics as a set of discrete but overlapping traditions. The book’s design complements Gravett’s curatorial approach with evocative juxtapositions that reveal how certain themes and storytelling techniques manifest themselves across cultural lines.

The real stars of the show, however, are the 1,000 images that grace Mangasia‘s pages, allowing readers to see the transformation of a rough pencil sketch into a finished page, savor the richly saturated color palette and dynamic flow of a martial-arts adventure, and note the growing influence of digital technology on comic art. Whether you’re a manga reader or a comics scholar, the best way to tackle Mangasia is to follow Park Chan-wook’s advice, which appears at the very beginning of the text. “There’s the joy of simply taking in the art,” he observes (13), an apt assessment of this fascinating, flawed book’s appeal. Recommended.

Thames & Hudson provided a review copy.

Gravett, Paul. Mangasia: The Definitive Guide to Asian Comics, foreword by Park Chan-wook, Thames & Hudson, 2017.

Filed Under: Books, Manga Critic, REVIEWS Tagged With: Mangasia, Paul Gravett, Thames & Hudson

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