Blog

By Rumiko Takahashi. Released in Japan by Shogakukan, serialized in the magazine Shonen Sunday. Released in North America by Viz. Translated by Kaori Inoue, Adapted by Gerard Jones.

When Viz first started its omnibus re-release of Ranma 1/2, I told myself I was going to give every volume a full review, despite the fact that with one or two exceptions there is no plot or characterization development from around Vol. 10 to Vol. 36. And for the most part it’s been a good decision. I’ve been surprised at how much there is to talk about here, and how much more I’m getting out of the series twenty years on. That said, we’re definitely near the end of the series, and it’s starting to show. None of the chapters in this omnibus are horrible, but they are starting to feel tired, and you can sense Takahashi is ready to wrap this up. We’ll begin to see that wrapup with the next omnibus, but for now we have this mediocre book.

There are a few stories that are fairly well remembered by the Ranma fandom, but they ended up being more plotless runaround types than I expected. Ryouga eats a mushroom that turns him into a little kid, and Ranma rapidly follows. While the kids are adorable brats, the emphasis is on the brat part, of course, and so there’s mostly a lot of yelling and fighting. There’s also a lot of Mousse in this book, and readers familiar with my reviews will know that I simply dislike him. Probably the most famous story in the book is the one where the entire family become convinced, after deciding to eat out rather than going home and then returning to find various broken things, that Kasumi has finally snapped and actually gotten angry. It made me wonder if Takahashi was actually following the Western fandom, as a lot of the jokes (and resolution) here could be taken straight from it – except if it were the Western fandom, Kasumi really WOULD have been angry.

There are also some good bits here, as you’d expect for a series of such varying quality as Ranma 1/2. The Valentine Chocolate chapter was genuinely sweet towards the end, and shows off a bit of the ‘yes, they are in love’ that we enjoy so much from Ranma and Akane. And the chapters involving Hinako and Principal Kuno are a Takahashi runaround done right, with great comedy that works, including the revelation of “The Evil Tree… sorry, Three” which had me laugh out loud, and may be the best use of Nabiki ever. And while I felt the whole “Akane’s breasts are growing” arc with Nodoka was drawn out far too long, both that and the previous Nodoka story earlier in the book show this really isn’t going to last much longer – sooner or later, Ranma IS going to meet his mother.

Anyone picking up a 17th omnibus of Ranma is in it for the long haul, of course, and as usual it’s worth getting for the improved reproduction of the art and unflipped state. But we’ve only got two omnibuses to go after this, and I must admit I’m rather relieved.

By Hico Yamanaka | Published by Kodansha Comics

Seventeen-year-old Atsuko is desperate for cash. Her father is an ungrateful drunk, they’re so poor that she’s mocked by classmates for her lack of personal hygiene, and she has resorted to fleecing perverted old men just so she can eat. Shortly after a chance meeting in which she runs into her male doppelganger, Itaru, she is kidnapped by his rich friend, Ryo Sekiuchi, and hired to impersonate Itaru (who has gone missing) for one million yen. Atsuko agrees and tutoring commences. She meets some nice people who are concerned for her welfare and appreciative of her effort, which is something she hasn’t experienced before, and learns that happiness isn’t automatic, even if you live in a huge, beautiful mansion.

I’m on the fence with how I feel about this volume. It’s not nearly as insightful as it could be, and so far the focus is more on Atsuko’s circumstances (first crappy, then unfamiliar) than on Atsuko herself. Her insta-love—after opening the manga by declaring that the greatest misfortune in the world is to fall in love— for Itaru’s friend Nobunari is also completely sudden and unconvincing. A more nuanced interpretation would suggest that Atsuko is so starved for affection that she’ll latch on to any form of kindness, but I have doubts that the mangaka is thinking that deeply about it at all.

That said, there were some things I liked about it. Ryo’s backstory, for example, and his reasons for wanting to protect Itaru from future repercussions from his controlling family. I also like that Itaru may have run off because he is gender nonconforming and that Nobunari seems to be in love with him. It’s probably not good to be more interested in the person who’s off-screen than the actual protagonist, but at least that’s something. Another point in the series’ favor is that it is short. I reckon I like it well enough to see it through to the end.

The Prince in His Dark Days is complete in four volumes. Kodansha will release volume two later this month.

By Ryohgo Narita and Suzuhito Yasuda. Released in Japan by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Stephen Paul.

Lately these days when I’m reading light novels I come at it from a different perspective than most North American readers, in that I really am reading it in this format first. I haven’t seen the anime for, say, The Irregular at Magic High School or Strike the Blood, so my opinions tend not to be swayed in advance beyond shamelessly spoiling myself on TV Tropes. But DRRR!! is different – I’ve seen the anime multiple times, and also read Yen’s manga (though the novels have finally passed the manga series timeline-wise), and therefore know where the books are going to go, even if I may be surprised by a narrative quirk or inner monologue. This also allows me to enthuse about characters I love finally showing up, even if it is somewhat baffling as to why I love them.

Case in point: Vorona, one of the two Russians who arrive in this book as professional goons-for-hire. I love Vorona. She’s in my top 5 favorite DRRR!! characters. That said, you’d be hard pressed to see why here, as she’s merely a quirky villain. She speaks in a clipped, soundbite way that not only works very well for a Russian who’s learned Japanese, but also contrasts with all the other Russians speaking Japanese around her, who speak it much more fluently. She’s a repository of useless information, which she doles out to her goofy and somewhat dim partner Slon – be it why cows eating grass makes them fat or why the number 13 is unlucky. And, like the rest of the cast in this series, she’s a little bit broken on the inside, finding her thrills in killing and finding progressively stronger people to fight against. She thinks she’s found someone interesting in this volume with Celty, who is seemingly easily killed only to show up later. Book 6 onward will show more of why I love her.

Knowing the anime can also be a drawback as well, of course. Mikado is written here to be a hopelessly naive dupe, in over his head and trusting Izaya of all people, even thinking to himself that he’s “really a nice guy”, which is so untrue you wonder how on earth Mikado can even survive day-to-day. But as the astute fan knows there’s far more going on in Mikado than just naivete. Aoba can sense it, I think – he sees Mikado grinning as he’s being blackmailed towards the end of the book – but he pretty much thinks he can use Mikado as the public face for his own machinations. This is definitely the first book in a two-book arc, and we’ll learn later on it’s not as simple as that.

As ever with a Narita volume, there’s too much going on here to talk about everything in a review. I didn’t mention Shizuo’s subplot, as Izaya seems determined to irritate him as much as possible, be it sending a young yakuza princess to kill him or framing him for murder. It’s a great plot, and gives us the best interstitial art of the entire series, as Shizuo tries to convince Akane he’s not a bad guy by winking and sticking his tongue out. And Anri’s involved as well, as she also falls under Vorona’s large category of ‘strong monsters that I can try to kill’. And there’s Chikage, the gang leader lothario who’s determined to destroy all the men in the Dollars gang – but don’t hurt the women or you’ll be in trouble. The big downside is, of course, this is all setup. It’s those early episodes of the season that no one liked as they were all preparation for a payoff. Stay tuned for the payoff in Vol. 6.

By Atsushi Ohkubo. Released in Japan as “Enen no Shouboutai” by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Weekly Shonen Magazine. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics. Translated by Alethea & Athena Nibley.

It was always going to be difficult, following up on a series as popular as Soul Eater. And so Ohkubo decided to move to a bigger company (this is discussed in an absolutely hilarious afterword where he bemoans, like so many other artists who write for Magazine or Sunday, not getting into Jump) and started a brand new series. This is a bit more realistic than Soul Eater was, which sadly means a bit less gonzo background art details, but it’s still not quite in the real world. It’s a sublte first volume – I went through most of it thinking this was something of a step down from his last work, but as I reached the end of the volume I realized that I wanted to learn more about these characters. Which is all you can ask, really.

Our hero, who looks like Soul with black hair because manga artists have a style, let’s face it, is Shinra, a boy with a tragic past who has dedicated his life to being a hero, and the best way to do that in this world is to become a fireman. Why? Because all over the world people are spontaneously combusting for no reason, and turning into demonic creatures as they do. Shinra joins a squad dedicated to stopping these former humans and sending them to their eternal rest (they even have a nun/exorcist on hand). There are, of course, a few problems. He has a bad habit of grinning widely when he’s nervous or upset, something that always causes people to get the wrong idea. And he’s never done this before, so quickly has to get used to the fact that as a firefighter in THIS world, they will always be dealing with death – in fact, as is bluntly pointed out, they are murdering these people.

Did I forget to mention most of the cast has superpowers? Of course I did, because frankly, a firefighter manga is what I want. But yes, Shinra can run so fast his feet catch fire (or maybe it’s the fire that lets him run fast), and another girl on the squad can’t create fire, but can manipulate it beautifully. We also meet Arthur, who I suspect changed his name to be more apropos. He’s dedicated himself to being a knight – and has a past history at school with Shinra, so they don’t get along, as they both war as to whether knights or heroes are better. (The astute reader, of course, realizes they’re both idiots.) Probably my favorite character was the captain, who has no powers at all, but is a really good firefighter – and dispenses excellent advice.

So yes, a solid first volume, with a better plot and character but less style and moxie than Soul Eater’s first volume. There’s also some fanservice, ranging from mild (a brief shower scene with the two female firefighters) to pointless (one firefighter from another squad seems to have the ability to be constantly groped – mo, really, it seems like it’s her superpower). And we’re also meeting some villains, who no doubt will tie into the death of Shinra’s family. All in all, it’s a promising start.

By Akiko Higashimura. Released in Japan in two separate volumes as “Kuragehime” by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Kiss. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics. Translated by Sarah Alys Lindholm.

After waffling a bit about the first two omnibuses of this series, the third settles in more comfortably into something I’m really enjoying. The characters develop a bit more, though that’s not always a good thing. The humor can be first rate much of the time. And the overwhelming sense of impending doom is done with a light but necessary touch, as we never forget even from the start that Amars’ home is about to be taken away from them – indeed, the owner (Chieko’s mother, who amusingly also seems to be a giant otaku, this time for Korean actors) signs off on selling it, so we’re left wondering what can possibly be left to save it? Ah, but in the best Mickey Rooney/Judy Garland tradition, Kuranosuke has the answer – we’re gonna put on a show!

Actually, the show was my favorite part of this whole volume – not the fashion show that serves as the cliffhanger ending, but the college drama that they all go to see in order to fill up seats, that fires up Karanosuke’s arrogant fashion heart and leads to all this. College productions can be hilarious at times, and the idea of a huge number of Ophelia clones fighting it out over Hamlet is exactly the sort of play you’d likely see in a hardcore drama department. Likewise, the shoestring budget and slapdash costumes also fit in, even if they upset the aesthetic sense. It’s nice to see Tsukimi manage to overcome her introversion and get everyone sewing so we can get the jellyfish dresses, even if I did groan as Kuranosuke once again forced her into a big social situation without telling her.

And then there’s Inari. I still don’t like her – by design, she’s the villain – but I also wasn’t fond of the plotline in this volume. Her faked suicide looked and felt offhand, as if she threw it together uncaringly, though I was fine with Shu being upset about her doing it. The fact that she started to fall for him for real after he hit her upset me a bit, though I know it wasn’t meant to be taken that way. In reality, it’s that he actually cares about her well-being and isn’t just another male body on the sexual corporate ladder. Still, I wish we could have had that without the violence. That said, I was amused at how she seemingly falls apart a bit after that, to the point where she can’t even blackmail him properly.

The rest of Amars also fare well, getting things to do to flesh them out. Mayaya gets the most, of course, as she’s the one with the body of a model and the personality of a fruitcake. We get into the background of the cast in greater depth here – Mayaya hides her eyes as they’re evil-looking, similar to the hero in Toradora!. But everyone in Amars is quick to remind her that they all went through that sort of thing – they were all bullied in school for being different. I’m not sure how long Mayaya’s actual modeling career may last – and I note that if she ends up with the Benz freak it would be hilarious – but it’s amusing and inspiring at the same time.

To sum up, while I still have a few issues with Princess Jellyfish, I enjoyed this omnibus a lot more, and it’s a solid josei title for young women or anyone.