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By Asumiko Nakamura. Released in Japan as two separate volumes by Ohta Shuppan, serialized in the magazine Manga Erotics F. Released in North America by Vertical.

I didn’t know a whole lot about this series going into it, except that it had striking cover art, and the premise seemed to promise a whodunnit sort of thing. As it turns out, the death at the start of the book is more of a catalyst than a mystery. Instead, it’s the story of several really broken people, and watching them all move through life, desperately trying to find the purpose they lack. And trust me, that’s a lot more riveting than trying to figure out how someone really died.

The plot of the manga involves a well-known writer who has apparently begun a new series in a monthly magazine called ‘Utsubora’ – an archaic Japanese word that can mean ‘hollow space’. The fictional story and the manga both are inhabited by people who define that word, be it the writer himself, the mysterious girl who seemed to be his muse, his exasperated editor, or the niece who is seemingly the most normal girl here. One of the things I really liked about the manga is the way that Nakamura makes you shift sympathies as you read and understand more – I really empathized with Tsuji, the young editor, at the start, and then less and less as the story went on and we saw how far he’d go regarding his crush. Likewise, Mizorogi started off as a stoic creep, but gradually I felt deep pity and empathy for him.

Despite what the title may imply, not every series that runs in Manga Erotics F has to have sex in it. This one does, though, and we see quite a few scenes of lovemaking. The interesting thing is that they’re all presented very differently depending on who is present. Mizorogi’s psychological issues mean that sex with him is very different from sex with someone like Tsuji, a fact that is pointed out immediately by the girl who’s been with both of them. (It also ties in to his issues with being able to write, and using “Fujino” for that.) And a later scene showing Tsuji and a desperate female author who’s in lust with him seems far dirtier than the other scenes, less loving and more passionate and quick.

I haven’t talked much about the two girls on the front and back covers, even thought they are very much the focus of this work. Indeed, for a while I wasn’t quite sure what was going on with them at all. The mystery set up at the beginning was less about the death and more about what happened before, and how much we, as a reader, could trust what’s presented to us. In the end, though, I’m left with an almost aching sadness as I look back on what happened with Aki Fujino, Sakura Miki and Fujiko Akiyama, and it’s her character that conveys the meaning of the title the most. At the start, and at the end, she stands stoic before us, but in between those times the raw emotion is almost too much to bear.

Utsubora is a book, I think, that has to be felt almost as much as it has to be read. Its examination of a writer’s life, and the people that surround that life, is tangible and heartbreaking. There’s a lot of stuff I wasn’t even able to cover here, simply as I didn’t want to spoil too much about this book, which is highly unusual for me. Seek this out, it’s one of the best titles I’ve read this year.

Cross Game is one of those series that was so great, I’m a bit angry at myself for taking so long to finish it. The seventh omnibus volume was a bit of a surprise, because something that I expected to happen didn’t, and it didn’t happen in a way that was really interesting with the story that Adachi was building. All along I thought that there’d be a major confrontation between Ko’s team and the antagonistic coach at Kurokoma. But Kurokoma doesn’t even bother to scout their first-round competition because they’ve never heard of the team. Daimon’s arrogance is on full display as he talks to Junpei who is on his way to scout Seishu’s first-round opponent. Daimon says of his competition that he doesn’t even know what they are called, they’re “some no-name school…a team I have no intention of remembering…” The no-name team ends up being Seishu’s next opponent, as Kurokoma is defeated in the first round. Daimon’s comeuppance didn’t come at the hands of Seishu, it came from his own internal failings. In most other shonen manga there’s be a more simplistic confrontation between the two teams during the tournament, but thankfully Adachi doesn’t write his manga in an expected way.

Junpei has proposed to the oldest Tsukishima daughter Ichiyo, and she’s answered that she’ll marry him if Seishu gets to Koshien, adding an extra element of romantic tension to every baseball game. Ko’s finally reached a point where he can’t rely on Aoba for advice. His athletic abilities keep growing and as he tries to adjust his form after throwing the ball faster than he has before, Aoba can’t help him because she’s never thrown a ball that fast. Akane is hospitalized, and the idea of losing her combined with her similarity to Wakaba, makes the summer seem a bit eerie. Ko seems largely unflappable through the whole situation and Aoba comments to Yuhei that he seems cold. Yuhei comments that Ko knows “some things you just gotta do. Other things, you can only have faith…”

One of the things I love is the way simple scenes end up saying so much about the relationships between the characters. Aoba and Ko are riding an empty train together and she makes a point of sitting as far away from him as possible. Ko comments that the distance between them never changes and when she sharply asks if he said anything, he just replies “Nope.”

As the series comes to a close, I was reminded all over again how for a manga the focuses so intensely on baseball, it isn’t really about baseball at all in terms of the motivations and actions of the characters. Ko’s calm and constant training is touched off by the idea that Aoba’s will only like a boy who can pitch a 100 mph fastball. As All of Ko’s training begins to pay off with some inspired pitching as his team becomes a contender for Koshien, his pitches start clocking at higher and higher speeds. As Aoba watches Ko she thinks that he used to be like her, overly emotional and with a quick temper, but now “he’s just like Wakaba.”

During the final game there’s parallel baseball action and emotional revelation happening, as the reader sees the depth of Aoba’s hatred for Ko, and how that hatred is a proxy for dealing with Wakaba’s death, and how stoic and emotionally mature Ko is to just let himself be the object of Aoba’s scorn. During a pivotal moment Ko has to bat, and he hands the umpire a token, putting himself firmly back in the mental space of all of the times he’s practiced his batting at the Tsukishima’s batting cage. Adachi introduces these moments in such an off-hand naturalistic way that the symbolism involved never seems forced or overly precious. As the series concluded I realized that more than just showing the dramatic struggles of a high-school baseball team, Cross Game is really a classic romance manga, with some closing moments that would put most shoujo manga to shame just in terms of the emotional depth portrayed. Ko and Aoba are one of my favorite manga couples, and Cross Game really is a work to be treasured.

By Kazuo Koike and Goseki Kojima. Released in Japan by Futabasha, serialized in the magazine Manga Action. Released in North America by Dark Horse.

I had never read Lone Wolf and Cub when I started to get into manga back in the day. My tastes ran more towards Ranma and Sailor Moon at that time, and it was also in a weird format, with smaller trim than what I was expecting. Then as it went on I simply never got a chance to go back to it. Now Dark horse is releasing the series in large omnibuses, sized like the other books on your shelves (although still flipped), with the first three volumes in this giant 700+-page monster. Is it worth picking this up?

Well, if you already have it, I wouldn’t get it again, as there’s no new translation or anything. If you don’t have it, though, this is a surprisingly gripping tale of assassination and vengeance. I say surprising as, at least for these three volumes, it’s also very episodic, bouncing back and forth between various parts of feudal Japan. It appears to all take place in the same year, given that Daigoro (the ‘Cub’ of the title) stays about 3 years old throughout, but there’s little continuity between each story, and we really don’t even know much of why Ogami is an assassination for hire beyond “he was set up and his wife was killed”. This is an early 70s seinen action manga, so there’s not a lot of heavy continuity here.

That said, this also adds to the purity of the story. Our hero roots out corruption (he even makes sure to get the FULL story from his clients, including everything they’ve done wrong, just in case) and metes out his own brand of justice. Naturally, given that the protagonists are a killer assassin and his three-year-old son, the villains tends to go either two ways: horrible and cowardly villains who die like the dogs they are, or noble-yet-conflicted samurai who duel to the death with dignity. And they all know who Lone Wolf is, not to mention his Cub. Doesn’t really stop him from getting what he wants, even if he has to take out 8 female ninja assassins, or fight on a rickety bridge, or even inside an inescapable prison.

This is, of course, written by Kazuo Koike, later known for works like Crying Freeman. It will not surprise anyone, therefore, that Ogami is also an excellent lover, though we don’t see that quite as often as I expected here. Partly as the focus of the series is sword battles, but also because the women here tend to be dead or evil – I was rather surprised when one chapter showed a thief/prostitute actually surviving to the next chapter. At least I think that’s her in the next chapter – the artist is not that great at differentiating between his characters. Luckily, Ogami’s eyebrows are large enough so he can be spotted anywhere.

This is a giant tome of a book – it may actually read easier in its original non-omnibus format – and we have a ways to go, as the series runs to the mid-20s or so, and this is only Vol. 1-3. Nonetheless, it’s highly influential, and you can see why – as a mood, the book is stellar. Recommended for those who like manly manga, swordfights, or samurai.

By Shimura Takako. Released in Japan by Enterbrain, serialization ongoing in the magazine Comic Beam. Released in North America by Fantagraphics.

In my last review, I noted that all the characters were just starting to reach that age where love would come into the picture, and wondered what would happen when it arrived. Well, that moment is here, and the answer is simple: a trainwreck of feelings and emotions. There’s actually not as much regarding Nitori and Takatsuki’s gender identity disorder here, but there doesn’t need to be. Takako-san has set up all the characters’ wants and needs in the first three volumes, and now can send them careening everywhere confident that we’ll follow along.

This is not to say that everyone is embracing these new-found feelings. Nitori and Anna’s feelings for each other, for example, almost read like they’re out of Bob’s Big Book Of Manga Cliches. Anna is clearly attracted to Nitori, but is still a bit weirded out by Notori’s gender issues, so this tends to come out as abuse. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting Anna to be as utterly tsundere as she is here, given this is a very realistic, subtle work. And Nitori is also attracted to Anna, but she’s sending all the wrong signals, so he just ends up frustrated. And then there’s Takatsuki to consider…

Sometimes friends fall out, particularly in the elementary school/middle school years. The tragedy of what happens with Saori is that she can see it – hell, she excoriates herself for it, quoting from Anne of Green Gables again – but still can’t help what her heart feels, and this causes her to lash out at Takatsuki. Meanwhile, Takatsuki’s relationship with Nitori is all over the school – there’s a rumor they were seen kissing, and it won’t quite die down. It’s getting to the point where Nitori and Takatsuki are starting to dream of each other… erotic dreams. Takako-san’s subtleties excel here, as you clearly know that we’re seeing wet dreams without there being anything racy or suggestive.

In the end, almost everyone ends up unhappy or unfulfilled here, which is not a surprise given the age of the protagonists. Saori seems to have shut down (the unwanted attention she’s getting from a male friend at church isn’t helping), and the others are simply trying to keep it together. The other friend in their little group, Sasa, barely appears, but it’s noted a couple of times they want to try to stay on an even keel for her – she seems to be the heart of the group. There is, however, one romance that does work out, and fittingly, it’s for a slightly older couple. Maho is finally able to get over her own shyness and panic, and she and Seya become a couple. (His own feelings for Nitori-as-a-girl are still an issue, of course.)

So another solid volume that really makes me love these characters even more. My favorite part of the entire book was probably a chapter where Nitori, frustrated by his sister, Anna, and everything going on at school, decides to run away. Not being able to afford to go anywhere, though, as the day progresses Nitori just ends up at a zoo. In the end, the day passes and on Nitori’s return, no one realizes he’s even been gone. Nitori’s imagination and emotions are further along than his maturity level, and it’s causing him great pain. Will middle school help to guide him? Can’t wait to find out.

By Satoko Kiyuduki. Released in Japan by Houbunsha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Manga Time Kirara Carat. Released in North America by Yen Press.

As I have mentioned before, there are an awful lot of 4-koma series coming out featuring a bunch of eccentric, yet cute and lovable girls around high school age. Indeed, most of them are also being put out by Yen. And yet I’ve always enjoyed reading GA the most, particularly as it rewards detail-observant readers. There’s a lot going on here, not least of which is how much this series has taught me about art. And about how to draw a panda properly.

Actually, much of this volume takes place over the summer break, meaning we get the opportunity to observe the girls outside of the school environment. (Though this does mean we get less of the ‘B’ cast, i,e, Awara and company.) We even get to see a couple more family members, particularly Namiko’s sister, who turns out to be the sort of aggressively good at everything big sister that would drive Namiko insane (which is indeed what happens). We also get a brief view (back only) of Noda’s gorgeous big sister of legend. The siblings in GA tend to show off a lot of that ‘we can’t stand each other, but love each other deep down’ dynamic you like to see in comics like these.

The ‘art’ parts of the volume focus on the four seasons, and how you get your piece to show off what spring means, or summer, etc. This includes several examples of works that do precisely thins, both Western and Japanese, so you can go to Google and look up paintings like ‘Autumn in the Village’ by Marc Chagall or ‘Beach Baskets in Holland’ by Wassily Kandinsky. The art actually helps you to understand the girls better, as you see how they might see the world, and what kind of canvas they want to create with it.

The girls, by the way, are exceedingly cute here, as you would expect. A trip to a summer festival is enlivened by a fox spirit briefly taking the place of one of the girls (Kisaragi being Kisaragi, she goes to the fox shrine the day after to thank them for having fun with the rest of the girls). A trip means postcards, which the girls hand-draw, and discussion of how to balance picture and words (it also shows Namiko and Noda talking about getting married one day – sorry, yuri fans!). Perhaps the most poignant chapter shows Noda unknowingly showing up for school the first day of summer break, and having lunch while pretending her friends are there around her. Noda surrounded by people is the best Noda, I think we all agree.

As ever, if you’re looking for a deep manga with a lot to say about the human condition, this isn’t the one for you. It’s a 4-koma about cute high school kids, and no amount of praise from me is going to change that. If you do enjoy this genre, however, GA is fantastic, balancing humor, cuteness, and an appreciation of art, even if you aren’t artistic. It doesn’t come out very often (it’s caught up with Japan), but is always recommended.