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Pick of the Week: Centaurs & More

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It’s a sparse week at Midtown Comics, but there’s always something to buy. Check out the Battle Robot’s picks below!

MJ: Okay, I’ll just say it. There’s almost nothing shipping in to Midtown Comics this week. And though volume twelve of GTO: The Early Years is a strong choice by all accounts, I feel rather disingenuous picking it, since I haven’t yet read volume 11. Instead, I’m turning my attention to JManga, which has been putting out some pretty exciting releases lately, including two new volumes from one of my long-time favorites, est em, Apartments of Calle Feliz and Working Kentauros. Though Apartments is the volume *I* covered in yesterday’s Going Digital, the one I’ve really got my eye on now is Working Kentauros, described by Michelle as “Highly, highly recommended.” Salaryman centaurs? BL salaryman centaurs?? Sign me up!

MICHELLE: I suppose it goes without saying that, with an endorsement like that, Working Kentauros is my pick of the week, as well! It’s quirky, charming, and moving, just like one would expect from est em.

SEAN: Um, well. There’s two titles, and I don’t read one of them, so hey, it’s the other one! Admittedly, there’s a good chance I would have chosen GTO: The Early Years, Vol. 12 regardless. As with most of this series (and indeed GTO and 14 Days in Shonan, albeit from a different ‘perspective’, this is about life as a teenager, where you feel no one understands you, where your family is uncaring, where all you have are your friends. Admittedly, it’s still a shonen manga, so there are perhaps a few more drag races, violent punchouts, and moral messages than I recall in my own teenage years, but that’s because Eikichi and Ryuuji are more interesting than I was. It’s actually astonishing how retro this title now seems, given it ran in the early to mid 1990s. Old school is 1995 now? Really?

KATE: “The angst of being a teen. The thrill of being a boat!” So goes the tagline for Dave Roman’s latest project, Teen Boat. Like Astronaut Academy, the premise of Roman’s comic is neatly — one might even say baldly — encapsulated in the title. Teen Boat is a teen who can transform into… well, a boat. If that doesn’t sound like the most fruitful idea for a comic, never fear: Roman brings his trademark wit to the proceedings, poking fun at YA cliches, action-movie tropes, nautical lore, and whatever else pops into his head. John Green’s smart, stylish artwork is the perfect complement to Roman’s script, helping sell the Teen Boat idea at its most ludicrous. And really, how can you *not* like a comic about a boat who loves a girl named Nina Pinta Santa Maria?

Readers, what looks good to you this week?

Higurashi: When They Cry, Vol. 18

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Story by Ryukishi07; Art by Karin Suzuragi. Released in Japan as “Higurashi no Naku Koro ni: Tsumihoroboshi-hen” by Square Enix, serialized in the magazine Gangan Powered. Released in North America by Yen Press.

This is a revelatory volume of Higurashi, both in the way that it wraps up the plotline with Rena and Keiichi, and in the way that it affects Rika, who is turning out to be the real star of the series. Of course, we have a ways to get there. First off, we deal with Rena’s continuing slide into madness, which culminates in her holding the entire school hostage and dousing it with gasoline. (Thank heavens this isn’t Naruto-level popular, I have to say, or the censors might wake.)

There’s not as much creeping paranoid horror as there was in the previous three volumes, mostly because Rena’s all the way there. That said, there are some impressive visuals from artist Karin Suzuragi. The way the panels and pages are set up and flow from one to another is very well done, and there’s lots of ‘turn the page and be shocked’ moments, particularly when Keiichi realizes he’s been tricked with the fake bomb. And, of course, Rena’s ‘Higurashi faces’ are impressive as well, though the best and most terrifying of those is at the end of the next arc.

Rika had mentioned last time that it was too late to save this world, but Keiichi is trying to make her realize that it’s not just about ‘how do I avoid getting disemboweled’ but about trying to prevent the little tragedies. She was already stunned that he remembered a previous world where he was the instigator. Now, in teaming up with Keiichi and Satoko to stop Rena, she decides after so long to try to stop fate even if it is impossible. (I love her cynical face as she faces off against Rena – we’re seeing more and more of the Rika that remembers every single go-round, and must be far older than 10 years old.) Incidentally, when Rika tells Keiichi that last time she didn’t try hard enough and Rena succeeded? We’ve seen that world too, in the Beyond Midnight arc.

Satoko is also impressive here, and it’s nice to see an arc where she’s less physically and mentally abused. Mion also gets a fantastic moment at the very start of the volume, reminding you that she is indeed the heir to a huge yakuza family and has no intention of doing anything else when she grows up. Mostly, however, she is the abused one in this volume, getting the blunt end of Rena’s billhook to the head in a mistaken belief that her family is behind everything that’s happened for the last few hundred years. In the end, though, this is about Rena and Keiichi.

There really aren’t as many “ship wars” as you’d expect from a harem series in Higurashi fandom. Partly as it ends up being about friendship, partly as little is resolved one way or the other. Keiichi/Rena fans, however, can be happy that the most shippy of their arcs was adapted for manga – Keiichi/Mion fans have to say “But hey, we got the PS2 arc!”. It will be hard to top this, though. The fight on the roof is fantastic, the best Keiichi has ever been, showing him finally breaking through to Rena not by pleading and making sense, but by the game they started with. This arc has been very cyclical, with Keiichi’s need to atone going back to the first arc. Now we end as we began, with a battle between friends – only instead of water, they have lethal weapons in their hands. But lethal weapons are only lethal if they’re used.

Rena’s been very clever through this volume – she’s one of the smartest in the cast, and implied, like Keiichi, to be playing stupid much of the time. But perhaps her finest hour is being able to break through the madness that has gripped every antagonist in this series to date, before killing him. Keiichi realizes how amazing this is, praising her for it in text. By distracting her with the roof battle “game”, he was able to remind her of the fun they all had – and also of her love for Keiichi, and his love for her. They both seem to know it’s not to be – there’s still a certain fatalism here – but Rena cries, and repents her earlier actions. She’s no longer crazy.

And so this arc ends, with the schoolchildren safe, Keiichi and Mion alive, Rena sane, and a final speech by Rika and Keiichi about finding the strength to fight fate, and that they’ll kick back against it as many times as they have to. Which is good, as after this happy ending (the chapter is called “Happy Rena”, anotehr cyclical bookend), we turn the page… and the whole village is dead again. Yes, we’ve managed to resolve Rena’s issues, but Rena was never the one who was disemboweling Rika on an altar, and the main villain is still unknown (though I can hazard a guess). The manga actually makes our irritation at another bad end explicit, with “The End” appearing 25 pages early, and then someone (Bernkastel?) chiding us for ruining the happy ending by turning the page. And so we’re left with Akasaka, 25 years later, wondering what could have stopped this horrific tragedy.

Overall, this arc was one of the best of the series, especially for fans of Rena, its iconic character. Higurashi now takes a summer break, but Yen Press will return in September with what I’m sure will be the final arc in the series, in which everyone lives happily ever after.

After all, how could the “Massacre Arc” possibly be bad?

An Introduction to the VIZ Signature Imprint

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If TOKYOPOP was the company that first embraced the teen market, licensing Sailor Moon and bringing manga to big chain stores, then VIZ was the company that first wooed adult readers, using distinctive packaging and punchy trade names to help older manga fans distinguish stories about boy ninjas from stories about disillusioned samurai. VIZ wasn’t the only company courting older fans, of course; Dark Horse has been synonymous with manly-man manga for most of its licensing history, while TOKYOPOP made several unsuccessful forays into ladies’ comics. VIZ, however, has done more than any major American publisher to create a market for titles like Oishinbo and 20th Century Boys, seinen works that appeal equally to male and female readers in their twenties, thirties, and beyond.

One of VIZ’s first branding experiments was its short-lived Spectrum Editions line (1990-91). VIZ published three seinen titles in a prestige format with vinyl dust jackets, high-quality paper, and a large trim size. Those titles — Natsuo Sekikawa and Jiro Taniguchi’s Hotel Harbour View, Yukinobu Hoshino’s Saber Tiger, and Yu Kinutani’s Shion: Blade of the Minstrel — didn’t make much of a splash in the market, but they anticipated some of the design choices that VIZ would make with its Editor’s Choice and Signature imprints a decade later.

Another important precedent for the VIZ Signature line was PULP: The Manga Magazine. First launched in 1997, VIZ billed its monthly anthology as “manga for grownups,” and featured edgier stories than its companion magazines Animerica and Manga Vizion. Titles such as Banana Fish, Bakune Young, Dance Til Tomorrow, Even a Monkey Can Draw Manga, Short Cuts, Strain, and Uzumaki debuted in PULP before they were collected into graphic novels that bore the magazine’s name.

After struggling to find an audience, PULP was canceled in 2002. The significance of PULP wasn’t lost on its editors, however; when the magazine ceased production, they issued the following statement, summarizing their achievement:

PULP was the first English-language magazine to run the kind of manga that make comics a mass medium for ordinary adults in Japan, from dynamic action narratives to avant-garde ventures, when it debuted in December 1997… PULP offered readers a Japanese comics contrast to both the superhero genre that typifies American comics and the stereotypical “anime-esque” manga often offered to U.S. readers.

After VIZ phased out the magazine, several PULP titles — Dance Til Tomorrow, No. 5 — found a home at the newly created Editor’s Choice imprint. Like PULP, the Editor’s Choice line was designed to appeal to older readers, featuring titles such as Maison Ikkoku, Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, Phoenix, and Saikano. The Editor’s Choice imprint had something else in common with PULP: it was short-lived. By 2006, VIZ had rebranded the catalog with the VIZ Signature name, using it to help adult readers distinguish Naoki Urasawa’s Monster from Naruto.

In its six years of existence, the VIZ Signature line has been steadily diversifying to serve a wider audience. Speaking to Publisher’s Weekly in 2009, VIZ Managing Editor Leyla Ayker explained that one of the goals of the line was “to create a balance between the more ‘literary’ works that would appeal to readers of Western graphic novels like Fun Home or Asterios Polyp and the more ‘action’ works that would appeal to readers of American superhero comics and genre fiction.” To that end, VIZ has been licensing a mixture of highbrow titles — All My Darling Daughters, Oishinbo A La Carte, Pluto: Urasawa x Tezuka — and pulp fiction for mature readers — Black Lagoon, Biomega, Dogs: Bullets and Carnage.

The Signature line was never tied to a print magazine, but in 2009, VIZ launched an ambitious collaboration with the Japanese anthology IKKI: select IKKI titles would be serialized online, allowing North American readers to read free monthly updates of series such as I’ll Give It My All… Tomorrow and Saturn Apartments. VIZ would then publish those series as part of its Signature line, with a special logo to distinguish the IKKI titles from other Signature manga. For a year and a half, the site flourished, offering readers a mixture of new comics and feature articles: an interview with Q Hayashida (Dorohedoro), a comic drawn by one of the VIZ designers. By the end of 2011, however, regular updates to the site had ceased, prompting speculation about the future of the project.

Whatever the future of SigIKKI, the project epitomizes what the VIZ Signature line does best: publishing high-quality manga that appeal to a wide spectrum of adult readers As Leyla Aker explained to Publisher’s Weekly:

The reason why IKKI and Signature are such a good fit is because their objectives are the same: to publish series that offer a diverse range of content but that are all marked by creative excellence. Another factor is that both lines are gender-neutral, so to speak; their content is aimed at both adult men and women, which is fairly unusual for manga.

And that, in a nutshell, is the VIZ Signature imprint: 43 titles that run the gamut from kitchen-sink drama (All My Darling Daughtes, Gente: The People of Ristorante Paradiso) to horror stories (Cat-Eyed Boy, Uzumaki), sword-and-sandal epics (Vagabond), science fiction (Bokurano: Ours, Saturn Apartments), thrillers (Black Lagoon, Monster), romances (Ristorante Paradiso), mysteries (not simple, Sexy Voice and Robo), and fantasies (Dorohedoro, GoGo Monster).

N.B. VIZ began designing a new Signature website which remains unfinished as of 4/22/12. In the comments below, reader Eric Rupe notes that VIZ doesn’t seem to have made much progress on the site; links redirect the reader to an empty product page at viz.com.

* * * * *

The goal of this month’s Manga Movable Feast is to create a place where grown-ups can discuss their favorite — or least favorite — VIZ Signature manga. Anyone can contribute: all you need to do is send me a link to an essay, podcast, or review about a VIZ Signature title, and I’ll feature it in one of my daily round-ups. (Email or Twitter are the best way to submit links; Twitter submissions should be directed to @manga_critic.) Note that the feast runs from today (Sunday, April 22nd) through Saturday (April 28th). For more information, please visit the VIZ Signature MMF archive.

MMF: An Introduction to the VIZ Signature Imprint

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If TOKYOPOP was the company that first embraced the teen market, licensing Sailor Moon and bringing manga to big chain stores, then VIZ was the company that first wooed adult readers, using distinctive packaging and punchy trade names to help older manga fans distinguish stories about boy ninjas from stories about disillusioned samurai. VIZ wasn’t the only company courting older fans, of course; Dark Horse has been synonymous with manly-man manga for most of its licensing history, while TOKYOPOP made several unsuccessful forays into ladies’ comics. VIZ, however, has done more than any major American publisher to create a market for titles like Oishinbo and 20th Century Boys, seinen works that appeal equally to male and female readers in their twenties, thirties, and beyond.

One of VIZ’s first branding experiments was its short-lived Spectrum Editions line (1990-91). VIZ published three seinen titles in a prestige format with vinyl dust jackets, high-quality paper, and a large trim size. Those titles — Natsuo Sekikawa and Jiro Taniguchi’s Hotel Harbour View, Yukinobu Hoshino’s Saber Tiger, and Yu Kinutani’s Shion: Blade of the Minstrel — didn’t make much of a splash in the market, but they anticipated some of the design choices that VIZ would make with its Editor’s Choice and Signature imprints a decade later.

Another important precedent for the VIZ Signature line was PULP: The Manga Magazine. First launched in 1997, VIZ billed its monthly anthology as “manga for grownups,” and featured edgier stories than its companion magazines Animerica and Manga Vizion. Titles such as Banana Fish, Bakune Young, Dance Til Tomorrow, Even a Monkey Can Draw Manga, Short Cuts, Strain, and Uzumaki debuted in PULP before they were collected into graphic novels that bore the magazine’s name.

After struggling to find an audience, PULP was canceled in 2002. The significance of PULP wasn’t lost on its editors, however; when the magazine ceased production, they issued the following statement, summarizing their achievement:

PULP was the first English-language magazine to run the kind of manga that make comics a mass medium for ordinary adults in Japan, from dynamic action narratives to avant-garde ventures, when it debuted in December 1997… PULP offered readers a Japanese comics contrast to both the superhero genre that typifies American comics and the stereotypical “anime-esque” manga often offered to U.S. readers.

After VIZ phased out the magazine, several PULP titles — Dance Til Tomorrow, No. 5 — found a home at the newly created Editor’s Choice imprint. Like PULP, the Editor’s Choice line was designed to appeal to older readers, featuring titles such as Maison Ikkoku, Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, Phoenix, and Saikano. The Editor’s Choice imprint had something else in common with PULP: it was short-lived. By 2006, VIZ had rebranded the catalog with the VIZ Signature name, using it to help adult readers distinguish Naoki Urasawa’s Monster from Naruto.

In its six years of existence, the VIZ Signature line has been steadily diversifying to serve a wider audience. Speaking to Publisher’s Weekly in 2009, VIZ Managing Editor Leyla Ayker explained that one of the goals of the line was “to create a balance between the more ‘literary’ works that would appeal to readers of Western graphic novels like Fun Home or Asterios Polyp and the more ‘action’ works that would appeal to readers of American superhero comics and genre fiction.” To that end, VIZ has been licensing a mixture of highbrow titles — All My Darling Daughters, Oishinbo A La Carte, Pluto: Urasawa x Tezuka — and pulp fiction for mature readers — Black Lagoon, Biomega, Dogs: Bullets and Carnage.

The Signature line was never tied to a print magazine, but in 2009, VIZ launched an ambitious collaboration with the Japanese anthology IKKI: select IKKI titles would be serialized online, allowing North American readers to read free monthly updates of series such as I’ll Give It My All… Tomorrow and Saturn Apartments. VIZ would then publish those series as part of its Signature line, with a special logo to distinguish the IKKI titles from other Signature manga. For a year and a half, the site flourished, offering readers a mixture of new comics and feature articles: an interview with Q Hayashida (Dorohedoro), a comic drawn by one of the VIZ designers. By the end of 2011, however, regular updates to the site had ceased, prompting speculation about the future of the project.

Whatever the future of SigIKKI, the project epitomizes what the VIZ Signature line does best: publishing high-quality manga that appeal to a wide spectrum of adult readers As Leyla Aker explained to Publisher’s Weekly:

The reason why IKKI and Signature are such a good fit is because their objectives are the same: to publish series that offer a diverse range of content but that are all marked by creative excellence. Another factor is that both lines are gender-neutral, so to speak; their content is aimed at both adult men and women, which is fairly unusual for manga.

And that, in a nutshell, is the VIZ Signature imprint: 43 titles that run the gamut from kitchen-sink drama (All My Darling Daughtes, Gente: The People of Ristorante Paradiso) to horror stories (Cat-Eyed Boy, Uzumaki), sword-and-sandal epics (Vagabond), science fiction (Bokurano: Ours, Saturn Apartments), thrillers (Black Lagoon, Monster), romances (Ristorante Paradiso), mysteries (not simple, Sexy Voice and Robo), and fantasies (Dorohedoro, GoGo Monster).

N.B. VIZ began designing a new Signature website which remains unfinished as of 4/22/12. In the comments below, reader Eric Rupe notes that VIZ doesn’t seem to have made much progress on the site; links redirect the reader to an empty product page at viz.com.

* * * * *

The goal of this month’s Manga Movable Feast is to create a place where grown-ups can discuss their favorite — or least favorite — VIZ Signature manga. Anyone can contribute: all you need to do is send me a link to an essay, podcast, or review about a VIZ Signature title, and I’ll feature it in one of my daily round-ups. (Email or Twitter are the best way to submit links; Twitter submissions should be directed to @manga_critic.) Note that the feast runs from today (Sunday, April 22nd) through Saturday (April 28th). For more information, please visit the VIZ Signature MMF archive.

Tidbits: Now We Are Six

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Originally, this post was supposed to go up several months ago, when the sixth volumes of these series were newly released, but time conspired against me. And so, belatedly, I present reviews of volumes five and six of Kamisama Kiss and Oresama Teacher. Also included is perennial favorite Skip Beat!, which is on a similar trajectory, just twenty volumes ahead.

Kamisama Kiss, Vols. 5-6
It’s hard to believe now that I ever had my doubts about Kamisama Kiss, because I’m enjoying it more and more with each volume.

Volume five finds Nanami determined to correct public opinion that her shrine is a creepy, dangerous ruin, especially since her shinshi, Tomoe, works so hard to maintain it. And so, she decides to hold a festival, spending two weeks preparing for a special performance while soliciting amusingly misguided advice from her supernatural acquaintances. It’s a success in the end. In volume six, Nanami is called upon to compete against another human girl for a spot at a prestigious kami conference.

In these two volumes, mangaka Julietta Suzuki nicely balances the expansion of the supernatural world (including the introduction of several new characters) and Nanami’s abilities with further development in her relationship with Tomoe. It seems to me that Tomoe is finding himself somewhat in awe of his kami these days—particularly when purification powers on par with his first master’s manifest themselves—and also more prone to emotions like fondness and jealousy. One of the best things about their relationship is how he is able to encourage and reassure her before the festival without being condescending about it. “I acknowledged you as my master,” he says. “Don’t be afraid. Prove yourself to everyone… like you did to me.”

I think the main appeal for me is that Kamisama Kiss is shaping up to be the story of Nanami’s growth. She may be in love with Tomoe, but winning his affections is not her sole ambition, or even her focus. Instead, she wants to develop as a kami and become someone that her parishioners can depend upon and respect. Because progress has come slowly, watching her actually achieve some truly remarkable things in these volumes actually leaves me a little verklempt. This has become less a story about a human girl thrust into the wacky world of yokai and more about someone embracing their destiny and striving to reach their full potential. I eagerly look forward to the next volume.

Oresama Teacher, Vols. 5-6
I was worried there for a minute. It seemed to me that volume five was showing signs of Tsubaki-sensei running out of ideas, what with a chapter about Takaomi and Mafuyu helping a wealthy girl find love with her self-denying servant, a chapter about the school’s bancho being stalked by a flower fairy, and a chapter about the Student Council’s resident ninja gathering intel on the Public Morals Club.

Although it’s not the neatest bow—I still don’t fully grasp why the Student Council is so opposed to Takaomi’s plans to attract more non-delinquent students to Midorigaoka, but at least I have an inkling now—Tsubaki does manage to tie things together by the end of volume six. Okay, not the flower fairy bit, but the significance of Takaomi going out of his way to help Marika (the rich girl) ties in with the backstory of why he’s become a teacher and why he’s made a bet with the school’s director. It brings new depth to his character and even relates to some things he said back in volume one.

I also really enjoyed the chapter in which the members of the Public Morals Club—now including Shinobu the ninja, who has decided to obtain information on his enemies from within their midst—explore the school, finding oodles of empty classrooms and realizing that it was once a thriving place with high-caliber students. Also significant is that, when Mafuyu is frustrated by Takaomi refusal to reveal his true motivations, she complains that all she’d wanted was to be a regular high school girl, but then got forcibly recruited to his agenda. Hayasaka overhears and, thinking he has kept Mafuyu from the life she’d wished for, avoids her. Mafuyu attempts to hang out with some girls, but in the end realizes she prefers being with Hayasaka. It’s really sweet.

This description might make it sound as if the series has suddenly gone in a plot-heavy direction, but that’s not really the case. There’s definitely something happening, but there are still plenty of amusing moments. My favorite is when Hayasaka and Super Bun are reunited and we get a panel of her carrying him in her arms while he thinks, “You’re so dreamy!”

Skip Beat!, Vols. 25-26
It’s a rare series that still genuinely delights me this far into its run, but Skip Beat! consistently manages to do so. I think the key here is that Nakamura has developed a cast of characters whose personality quirks enable her to take the plot in unexpected directions.

For example, volume 25 is all about the aftermath of Valentine’s Day. Sho has learned that Kyoko gave chocolates to Reino, and so shows up on the set of Dark Moon with an ostentatious bouquet in hand. He’s not out to win Kyoko’s love—so her explanation of the true nature of the chocolates (hatred) makes no difference—he just wants all her thoughts to be focused on him once more, and he temporarily ensures this by stealing her first kiss. Kyoko freaks out, according to plan, and is briefly talked down by Ren, but when she gives Ren his own special valentine, he can’t resist driving thoughts of Sho out of her head by administering a smooch of his own. This one’s on the cheek and he plays it off as a foreigner’s expression of gratitude, but it definitely leaves a trace in her heart.

Backing away from all of this progress, Nakamura eases us into the next arc by having Kyoko and Kanae return to the Love-Me Section, where they are joined by new member Chiori Amamiya, a former child actress whom Kyoko recently inspired to regain her love for acting. Each girl receives a personalized assignment from Lory, and Kyoko’s involves picking up Cain Heel, a dangerous-looking guy who is the president’s guest. Turns out, this is Ren going undercover and Kyoko’s new assignment is to stay by his side as his doting and scantily clad goth sister, Setsuka. And they have to live together in a hotel room. Ordinarily, a twist like this would be completely out of left field, but because this is Lory and because this is Skip Beat! I can just roll with it and eagerly anticipate the complications that will ensue.

If you’ve never read Skip Beat! before, now is a great time to start, as an omnibus edition of the first three volumes has recently been released!

Review copies provided by the publisher.

Going Digital: April 2012

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Welcome to the latest Going Digital, Manga Bookshelf’s monthly feature focusing on manga available for digital viewing or download. Each month, the Manga Bookshelf bloggers review a selection of comics we’ve read on our computers, phones, or tablet devices, to give readers a taste of what’s out there, old and new, and how well it works in digital form.

This month, MJ, Sean, and Michelle take a look at several recent JManga releases available to read in your web browser. OS and browser information is included with each review, to let you know exactly how we accessed what we read.


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Apartments of Calle Feliz | By est em | Libre Publishing Co., Ltd., Citron | JManga.com | Mac OS 10.7.3, Safari 5.1.5
“No one wants to read your sad story during a recession. You need to finish this with a happy ending.”

Still reeling from his latest breakup, these words from his editor are the last thing Luca wants to hear. “… happy ending? I’ve never experienced anything like it,” he thinks, as he lugs his scant possessions down to an apartment building at the end of the ironically-named “Calle Feliz” (“Happy Street”), where he hopes to find a vacant room. Unfortunately, the vacancy is non-existant, but the building’s landlord—a late-night DJ named Javi—offers him a couch, wi-fi, and a home-cooked meal, delivered with a pair of mournful eyes that Luca can’t bring himself to refuse. In addition, Javi offers him a solution to his creative difficulties, by suggesting that Luca write about the building’s tenants, most of whom could use some kind of happy ending.

I have a bit of a love-hate relationship with short stories, especially when they’re told through sequential art. That is to say, most of the time I hate them, except when I really, really love them. Est em’s work has generally fallen into the latter category, particularly her collection Age Called Blue, which I once referred to as “most overtly romantic” book in est em’s English-translated catalogue. Though Age Called Blue still stands as my favorite of her work so far, The Apartments of Calle Feliz gives it a run for its money in the romance department, if not in the most satisfying way.

Though the bulk of the volume consists of Luca’s observations on the building’s tenants—a man whose fear of losing his partner has (oddly) driven him to nudism, a pair of twins involved with the same man, a rather creepy puppet maker who can’t let go of his long-lost relationship with an underage lover, and (my favorite of the bunch) a transgender circus performer who finds love with the man upstairs—the book’s real love story belongs to Luca and Javi, who I wish had a lot more screen time. Don’t get me wrong. The book’s series of apartment vignettes are exactly as nuanced and intriguing as all of est em’s work. It’s just that there’s so much to explore in Luca and Javi, and though est em makes the most of the pages she gives them, it still feels as though she hasn’t done them justice. As a result, both their individual stories and their slow-building romance read as genuinely unfinished rather than typically sparse.

That said, there’s no excuse for missing out on even a single page of est em’s delicately-crafted storytelling, even as it leaves us wanting more. Recommended. – MJ

Non-chan no Tenohira, Vol. 1 | By Setsuko Kaneko | Futabasha, Jour Suteki no Shifutachi | JManga.com | Windows XP, Firefox 11.0
It is sometimes hard to read this title without thinking of With The Light, the josei manga about raising an autistic child that Yen Press put out. Both ran in magazines for housewives (Akita Shoten’s For Mrs. and Futabasha’s, which I think translates as “Jour for Beautiful Housewives’); both are clearly written from the perspective of the mother; and both deal with the difficulty that communities and family, especially in Japan, have in dealing with children with disabilities. That said, autism and Down’s Syndrome are not the same, and while With The Light had the drama starting after the child had already been born, Non-chan begins much earlier than that.

Our young couple, Kazuya and Yuki, have been married for years but still have been unable to conceive. Kazuya’s family is very much looking for a child, and the pressure is seemingly entirely on Yuki. It’s made fairly clear that her husband’ family don’t think much of her, and are blaming her for this regardless of what is being said. The joy that the couple have when Yuki finally conceives is wonderful… then a blood test comes back saying there’s a high probability the baby will have Down’s. This manga does not pull any punches, as the hospital tells Yuki this, then says “If you’re going to have an abortion, do it quickly.” As the volume goes on, we struggle with Yuki and Kazuya, as they try to decide whether to have the baby, whether to have amniocentesis that will tell them if that’s the case, and then when they finally have the child, dealing with both Down’s Syndrome as well as the continuing issues with Kazuya’s family.

I’ll be honest – this is a heavy, heavy manga. There are moments of joy and love in here, and they’re wonderful, but they’re all the more poignant because they’re surrounded by the reality of what raising this child means. There’s a lot of classism here, as Kazuya’s family is rich, while Yuki’s family was not – she’s always had to struggle for acceptance, and the birth of Noriko (Non-chan) is like a nail in the coffin. Nor is it limited to Kazuya’s family – when the baby is born, the doctor and nurses are silent,. not offering congratulations. Over and over again, the narrative fights with itself – “Your child is wrong and you are horrible” versus “Your child wanted to be born and is your child, screw those other people”. Finding the balance between the two is what makes the manga so riveting. It does, at least, lighten up towards the end of the first volume. Still – oof. JManga’s translation is overly formal and stilted at times (like many of their first Futabasha volumes), but this is still worth a read if you don’t mind the tone.-Sean Gaffney

PoyoPoyo’s Observation Diary, Vol. 1 | By Ru Tatsuki | Takeshobo, Manga Life | JManga.com | Windows 7, SeaMonkey 2.8
When a drunken young woman named Moe Sato spots a perfectly round kitty in an alley one night, she mistakes him for a pillow. Upon sobering up and realizing his felinity, she takes him home and he becomes the family pet, Poyo. PoyoPoyo’s Observation Diary is a 4-koma manga about Poyo’s life with the Sato family, which consists of his doting owner, Moe; her equally doting but incredibly strong father; and her rather unenthused younger brother, Hide.

I wanted to like this manga and, in truth, I honestly don’t dislike it. It’s just that I seldom find 4-koma manga funny, and this is no exception. Most of the humor involves Poyo (who really is genuinely cute) getting mistaken for other things, like a pumpkin or a loaf of bread, and it gets old after a while. It doesn’t help that every few pages, the concept is reiterated, and the cast reintroduced. There’s also a recurring gag about a neighbor cat who likes to mount Poyo, which is pretty bizarre, as well as a few strips that I just didn’t get at all.

The parts of the manga that I liked best were the parts that weren’t intended to be funny. I liked it when Poyo got revenge on the cat who beat up his overly affectionate friend, for example, and really adored anything about how tough and manly Papa Sato is a pushover where kitties are concerned. That’s enough to convince me to give the second volume a try whenever it materializes. – Michelle Smith

Working Kentauros | By est em | Libra Publishing, Zero Comics | JManga.com | Windows 7, SeaMonkey 2.8
I first learned about Hatarake, Kentauros! from the blog Brain Vs. Book. It sounded wonderful, but I wasn’t too optimistic about getting to read it in English. So, imagine my exuberance a couple of weeks ago when the title appeared in the “coming soon” section of JManga’s newsletter! And now that I’ve read it, I can attest that it’s every bit as wonderful as I had hoped.

Beginning from the premise that centaurs exist and that recently revised employment laws allow them to work alongside humans, est em depicts five different centaurs in their chosen careers. We begin with Kentaro, who has moved from Hokkaido to Tokyo to become a salaryman. Guided by his sempai, he meets with clients and arranges contracts whilst dealing with challenges like crowded trains and getting groped in the elevator. Next is the story of Shunta, who wants to make people happy with his soba, but is unable to fit in the kitchen at the shop where he is an apprentice. Subsequent chapters feature a centaur who wants to make shoes (despite his inability to wear them), a centaur model who is tired of the Photoshop tricks that make him appear human, and an aspiring NEET who only wants to run and be carefree.

For the most part, the stories are lighthearted and have positive outcomes. Shunta meets a human with similar goals, and they run a ramen cart together. The shoemaker’s wares are highly praised. The model comes out of the closet with the encouragement of a designer. The slacker is gently encouraged by another centaur and comes to appreciate the value of good work. But there’s a certain degree of poignancy as well, since the centaurs’ lifespan greatly exceeds that of humans. The most striking depiction of this truth can be found in the shoemaker chapter, as est em encapsulates a decades-long working relationship in a series of near-identical panels in which the human partner ages while the centaur remains unchanged. It made me sniffly, and really brought home the point that, though this may not be overt BL, the male-male relationships are deeply meaningful all the same.

Like the best speculative fiction, est em uses her offbeat “centaurs in the workplace” concept to communicate universal truths. Everyone wants to be free to be themselves, and no one wants to watch someone they love get sick and pass away. Even if they happen to be a centaur. Highly, highly recommended. – Michelle Smith

A Monthly Dose of IKKI

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 The irony this month is thick. I have been reading IKKI magazine for approximately three years and in that time I have not managed to review it. Now that my reason for reading it is gone, I finally am taking the time to review it…just before I stop getting it regularly.

In fact, part of the reason I have not been able to review it was because I was reading it monthly for a series that is unlikely to make it over here in English, but is nonetheless the best manga I have ever read. It left me emotionally spent with every issue, so I couldn’t just sit down and write about it, or the magazine.

IKKI is relatively well-known to American readers, as Viz Media has an imprint of titles specifically coming from IKKI, known as SigIKKI. These titles include Childen of the Sea (Daisuke Igarashi), Afterschool Charisma (Kumiko Suekane), Kingyo Used Books (Seimu Tsuchida), House of Five Leaves (Nastume Ono), Saturn Apartments (Hisae Iwaoka), Dorohedoro (Q Hayashida) and Bokurano Ours (Mohiro Kitoh). These have been covered by many English-language manga reviewers, so I hope you don’t mind if I skip covering them. Another title that ran in IKKI that might be familiar to the English-reading audience is Iou Kuroda’s Sexy Voice and Robo.

Less well known to western audiences are other currently running series; of note Est Em’s “Golodrina,” about a woman who is being trained to become a matador; “Sex Nyanka Kyouminai” by the team of Kizuragi Akira and Satou Nanki, Banchi Kondo’s manga about baseball “Bob to Yuukaina Nakamatachi 2010,” and the reason I read IKKI at all, “GUNJO,” by Nakamura Ching, among many, many other series.

The general feel of IKKI is not terribly light-hearted. It’s a dark magazine, with dark roots and bits of dark stories popping up all over the place. It’s so dark at times, in fact, that as one reads a relatively innocent story, like “Ai-chan” or “Stratos”, one keeps waiting for the boot to drop and something awful to happen. Post apocalyptic life and murder sit comfortably next to unstable clones and gritty tales of survival in extreme circumstances.

IKKI has a website in Japanese, with sample chapters, featured messages from the manga artists and a list of shops where current volumes are available. SigIKKI also has a website in English where there are previews and downloads available for series that are carried under the imprint. At 550 yen ($6.60 at time of writing) for about 430 pages, IKKI costs just a few cents per page of entertainment.

IKKI is undoubtedy a magazine for adult readers of comics. It’s not that there’s sex, but that the themes are more about life – survival, even – in a variety of circumstances. A fan of Dostoevsky would be comfortable with the level of instrospection and conflict in this magazine. IKKI falls solidly into my “fifth column” of manga, if only for the lack of feel-good, team-oriented heroes fighting the good fight. IKKI is the dark side of seinen, away from the guns and running along rooftops, and closer to the quite desperation of making the best of a bad situation.

IKKI from Shogakukan: http://www.ikki-para.com/index.html

 

Blade of the Immortal, Volume 8: The Gathering

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Blade of the Immortal, Volume 8: The GatheringCreator: Hiroaki Samura
U.S. publisher: Dark Horse
ISBN: 9781569715468
Released: August 2001
Original release: 1997-1998
Awards: Eisner Award, Japan Media Arts Award

The Gathering is the eighth volume of the English edition of Hiroaki Samura’s award-winning manga series Blade of the Immortal. Published in 2001 by Dark Horse Comics, The Gathering is most closely equivalent to the seventh volume of the Japanese edition of the series, published in 1997, although it also includes a chapter from the eighth volume which was first released in 1998. Blade of the Immortal has been the recipient of both an Eisner Award and a Japan Media Arts Award. Critically acclaimed in both the East and the West, the series is also one of my personal favorites. The Gathering marks the approach of the end of the second major story arc in Blade of the Immortal. The volume picks up almost immediately after the events in the previous volume, Heart of Darkness. Since there were some pretty major developments in that volume, I was particularly looking forward to reading The Gathering.

After their violent falling out with Shira, Manji and Rin’s tenuous alliance with the Mugai-ryū assassins dissolves. Anotsu has successfully left Edo without being caught and is now well on his way to Kaga and out of the Mugai-ryū’s reach. They do, however, have an idea where Anotsu is heading. But they’re not about to tell Manji without getting something in return. Rin, still determined to pursue Anotsu, realizes that she is the only one who even has a chance of passing through one of Edo’s checkpoints and leaves Manji behind without telling him where she is going. It doesn’t take much for him to figure it out and Manji is ready to do anything it takes to follow her. But to complicate matters further, both Rin and Manji are now wanted for murder. It will be extremely difficult for either of them to leave Edo, let alone find Anotsu.

Rin is no longer as naive as she once was, although this doesn’t stop her from making decisions she knows are foolish. She has seen some terrible things on her path of revenge against Anotsu and it has changed her. The journey has changed Manji as well. He has become more open in showing his concern for Rin. While he has become quite attached to the younger girl and is very protective of her, he is not overprotective. But as soon as she disappears Manji doesn’t hesitate for a moment to try to find her again. It’s been a while since Manji has really let loose in a fight (it’s also been quite some time since he’s really needed to) but he is given ample opportunity to in The Gathering. He is at a distinct advantage because of his near immortality, but this also means he has a lot more pain and suffering in store for him. Still, Manji is able to employ in very dramatic and effective ways techniques and strategies that other swordsmen would only resort to out of desperation (if at all).

While Rin and Manji are attempting to leave Edo, the members of the Mugai-ryū are trying to make the best out of the situation. Manji and the Mugai-ryū may no longer be allies but they are all ready to use one another for their own benefit. Although the assassains’ backgrounds are still mostly a mystery, The Gathering reveals a few more hints about their employers. The assassins may be ruthless and violent, but at least for the moment it’s in their interest that Manji and Rin are alive. On the other hand the Ittō-ryū—Anotsu’s sword school—is itching to take down the man who has single-handedly killed so many of their own. Anotsu has already proven himself to be a formidable opponent, but many of the other members of the Ittō-ryū are crafty and skilled fighters, too. Even if they don’t particularly get along, Manji has given them a common goal for the time being. The Ittō-ryū is most definitely made up of the individuals with their own ways of doing things. The Gathering leaves off in the middle of an intense fight and I’m looking forward to seeing how it concludes in The Gathering, Part II.

Manga Artifacts: Love Song

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Back in the 1990s, Rachel Thorn labored hard to make Keiko Nishi a household name among American manga readers, translating six of her stories for VIZ. Two appeared in Four Shojo Stories alongside work by Moto Hagio and Shio Sato, and four appeared in a stand-alone volume called Love Song.

VIZ made a conscious effort to present Nishi’s work not just as comics, but as literature. Love Song boasted fancy endpapers — the kind you might find in the Everyman’s edition of Middlemarch — and a back cover blurb that defined shojo manga as “a literary genre of Japanese comics in which the relationships between characters are as meticulously crafted as the story’s action.” Lest the reader interpreted that statement to mean, “Here be romance comics,” the editor optimistically declared that shojo manga was “created by women for everyone!”

Though Nishi didn’t catch on with Western readers, it’s easy to see why Thorn championed her work: she’s a terrific, versatile storyteller, equally capable of writing light-hearted fantasies and character studies of deeply damaged people. Of the four stories that appear in Love Song, two are standouts: “Jewels of the Seaside,” a black comedy about three sisters who compete for the same man’s affection, with disastrous results, and “The Skin of Her Heart,” a sci-fi tale about a young woman torn between what she wants and what her mother wants for her. The other two stories — “Love Song” and “The Signal Goes Blink, Blink” — are also strong, if more conventional. “Love Song” focuses on an angry young woman who dominates her saintly boyfriend, while “The Signal Goes Blink, Blink” explores how fame transforms the life of a bullied teen.

Common to all four stories is a palpable sense of longing. The characters desperately seek human connection, but face genuine obstacles to their happiness. Yoshio Yamada, hero of “Signal,” is a perfect example: he’s the kind of small, quiet person whose shyness makes him a natural target for other kids’ scorn. (Even his own family detests him for his weakness.) When his newly discovered healing abilities land him television appearances, he worries what will happen if his powers fail him — not because he fears the stigma of being discredited, but because he fears being alone. “I’m afraid that if I lose this power, I’ll just go back to being a nobody again,” he tells his agent. “Are those people going to play with me? Will they come to school with me?”

The female protagonists of “Love Song” and “Skin of Her Heart” are also dissatisfied, though neither can fully articulate what they want. Saki, the heroine of “Love Song,” is perplexed by the intensity of her anger; though she readily admits that she was scarred by her first romantic experience, that alone cannot explain the cruel delight she takes in manipulating her current boyfriend. Lin-Lin, protagonist of “Skin,” also has difficulty pinpointing the source of her frustration, rejecting a suitor who could solve all of her financial and family problems. Only in the final pages of the story does she realize that moving to another space colony might change her life in ways that would help her “learn to open my heart to someone.”

Even the “Seaside” sisters are prisoners of their own desires. All three fancy their cousin Daniel, a handsome, polite young man, but each secretly worries that she compares unfavorably with her siblings. Their desperation is played for macabre laughs — poison factors into the narrative — but each sister’s pain and fear of rejection is very real; the punchline of the story is simultaneously amusing and horrifying, as we realize the true cost of their insecurities.

Nishi’s artwork is the perfect vehicle for such nuanced character studies, at times precise, elegant, and naturalistic, and at times loose and sketchy, with the white of the page playing an important role in underscoring the emotional distance between her characters. Her minimalist approach won’t be to every shojo fan’s liking, but she demonstrates that it’s perfectly possible to convey the interior lives of her characters without resorting to the kind of visual shorthands — flowers, sweatdrops, nosebleeds — that have been overused in contemporary shojo manga.

Readers wishing to track down a copy of Love Song should know that the title is officially out of print. (You won’t find it listed anywhere on the VIZ website.) Unlike Four Shojo Stories or A, A’, however, Love Song is still relatively easy to obtain through online retailers like Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and eBay. Highly recommended.

Manga Artifacts is a monthly feature exploring older, out-of-print manga published in the 1980s and 1990s. For a fuller description of the series’ purpose, see the inaugural column.

LOVE SONG • BY KEIKO NISHI • VIZ • 208 pp. • NO RATING

Manga Artifacts: Love Song

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Back in the 1990s, Matt Thorn labored hard to make Keiko Nishi a household name among American manga readers, translating six of her stories for VIZ. Two appeared in Four Shojo Stories alongside work by Moto Hagio and Shio Sato, and four appeared in a stand-alone volume called Love Song.

VIZ made a conscious effort to present Nishi’s work not just as comics, but as literature. Love Song boasted fancy endpapers — the kind you might find in the Everyman’s edition of Middlemarch — and a back cover blurb that defined shojo manga as “a literary genre of Japanese comics in which the relationships between characters are as meticulously crafted as the story’s action.” Lest the reader interpreted that statement to mean, “Here be romance comics,” the editor optimistically declared that shojo manga was “created by women for everyone!”

Though Nishi didn’t catch on with Western readers, it’s easy to see why Thorn championed her work: she’s a terrific, versatile storyteller, equally capable of writing light-hearted fantasies and character studies of deeply damaged people. Of the four stories that appear in Love Song, two are standouts: “Jewels of the Seaside,” a black comedy about three sisters who compete for the same man’s affection, with disastrous results, and “The Skin of Her Heart,” a sci-fi tale about a young woman torn between what she wants and what her mother wants for her. The other two stories — “Love Song” and “The Signal Goes Blink, Blink” — are also strong, if more conventional. “Love Song” focuses on an angry young woman who dominates her saintly boyfriend, while “The Signal Goes Blink, Blink” explores how fame transforms the life of a bullied teen.

Common to all four stories is a palpable sense of longing. The characters desperately seek human connection, but face genuine obstacles to their happiness. Yoshio Yamada, hero of “Signal,” is a perfect example: he’s the kind of small, quiet person whose shyness makes him a natural target for other kids’ scorn. (Even his own family detests him for his weakness.) When his newly discovered healing abilities land him television appearances, he worries what will happen if his powers fail him — not because he fears the stigma of being discredited, but because he fears being alone. “I’m afraid that if I lose this power, I’ll just go back to being a nobody again,” he tells his agent. “Are those people going to play with me? Will they come to school with me?”

The female protagonists of “Love Song” and “Skin of Her Heart” are also dissatisfied, though neither can fully articulate what they want. Saki, the heroine of “Love Song,” is perplexed by the intensity of her anger; though she readily admits that she was scarred by her first romantic experience, that alone cannot explain the cruel delight she takes in manipulating her current boyfriend. Lin-Lin, protagonist of “Skin,” also has difficulty pinpointing the source of her frustration, rejecting a suitor who could solve all of her financial and family problems. Only in the final pages of the story does she realize that moving to another space colony might change her life in ways that would help her “learn to open my heart to someone.”

Even the “Seaside” sisters are prisoners of their own desires. All three fancy their cousin Daniel, a handsome, polite young man, but each secretly worries that she compares unfavorably with her siblings. Their desperation is played for macabre laughs — poison factors into the narrative — but each sister’s pain and fear of rejection is very real; the punchline of the story is simultaneously amusing and horrifying, as we realize the true cost of their insecurities.

Nishi’s artwork is the perfect vehicle for such nuanced character studies, at times precise, elegant, and naturalistic, and at times loose and sketchy, with the white of the page playing an important role in underscoring the emotional distance between her characters. Her minimalist approach won’t be to every shojo fan’s liking, but she demonstrates that it’s perfectly possible to convey the interior lives of her characters without resorting to the kind of visual shorthands — flowers, sweatdrops, nosebleeds — that have been overused in contemporary shojo manga.

Readers wishing to track down a copy of Love Song should know that the title is officially out of print. (You won’t find it listed anywhere on the VIZ website.) Unlike Four Shojo Stories or A, A’, however, Love Song is still relatively easy to obtain through online retailers like Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and eBay. Highly recommended.

Manga Artifacts is a monthly feature exploring older, out-of-print manga published in the 1980s and 1990s. For a fuller description of the series’ purpose, see the inaugural column.

LOVE SONG • BY KEIKO NISHI • VIZ • 208 pp. • NO RATING