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Bloody Monday, Vol. 1

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To judge from all the shonen manga I’ve read, the fate of the world rests in teenage boys’ hands: not only do they have the power to kill demons and thwart alien invasions, they’re also blessed with the kind of superior intelligence that makes them natural partners with law enforcement.

Bloody Monday is a textbook example of the teen-genius genre: high school student Fujimaru Takagi dabbles in crime-solving, hacking into secure networks and decoding encrypted files on behalf of the Public Security Intelligence Agency. (Naturally, he works for the PSIA’s super-secret “Third-I” division, which is “comprised solely of elites.”) Fujimaru’s deductive skills are put to the ultimate test when his father is falsely implicated in a murder. To find the real killer, Fujimaru must uncover the connection between his father and the “Christmas Massacre,” a terrorist attack that left thousands of Russian civilians dead, their bodies covered in boils.

In the right hands, Bloody Monday might have been good, silly fun, 24 for the under-twenty-four crowd. The script, however, is pointed and obvious, explaining hacker culture and internet technology to an audience that has grown up on the world-wide web: are there any fifteen-year-olds who don’t grasp the basics of computer viruses? The characters, too, seem impossibly dim, thinking out loud, missing obvious connections, and reminding each other how they’re related, whether they’re fellow reporters for the school newspaper or siblings. Small wonder they don’t realize that their school has been infiltrated by an enemy agent.

The art is more skillful than the script, with polished character designs and detailed backgrounds. The adults actually look like adults, not teenagers with unfortunate laugh lines, while the scenes aboard the Transsiberian Railroad convey the harshness of the Russian landscape. Though artist Kouji Megumi nevers misses an opportunity to show us an attractive woman in her underwear — and really, what well-trained assassin doesn’t snuff a target or two while wearing only a matching bra-and-panty set? — the fanservice never overwhelms the plot. The action sequences, too, are well-staged, using swift cross-cuts and imaginative camera angles to heighten the suspense.

In the end, however, the slick visuals aren’t enough to compensate for the flat-footed storytelling. A plot as potentially interesting and complex as Bloody Monday‘s should challenge the reader to arrive the solution independently, not spoon-feed it; too often, the story seems to have been written in boldface, depriving the reader of an opportunity to guess the outcome of the story for herself.

BLOODY MONDAY, VOL. 1 • STORY BY RYOU RYUMON, ART BY KOUJI MEGUMI • KODANSHA COMICS USA • 200 pp. • RATING: TEEN (13+)

Bruiser by Neal Shusterman

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From the back cover:
Tennyson:
Don’t get me started on the Bruiser. He was voted “Most Likely to Get the Death Penalty” by the entire school. He’s the kid no one knows, no one talks to, and everyone hears disturbing rumors about. So why is my sister, Brontë, dating him? One of these days she’s going to take in the wrong stray dog, and it’s not going to end well.

Brontë:
My brother has no right to talk about Brewster that way—no right to threaten him. There’s a reason why Brewster can’t have friends—why he can’t care about too many people. Because when he cares about you, things start to happen. Impossible things that can’t be explained. I know, because they’re happening to me.

Review:
Let me just state upfront that any parents pretentious enough to name their children Tennyson and Brontë need a damn good whacking.

Moving on, Bruiser (from the author of Unwind) is the story of a social outcast named Brewster Rawlins who is perceived as a creepy delinquent by his classmates but is actually harboring a secret that compels him to keep his distance: if he cares about someone, he will absorb their pain, both mental and physical. Alternating between the perspectives of four characters (broody poetry fan Brewster, twins Tennyson and Brontë Sternberger, and Brewster’s daredevil little brother), the novel depicts how Brewster’s gift/curse affects his relationships with others and how, ultimately, being healed of all one’s ills is not necessarily a good thing.

Initially, Tennyson is opposed to his sister dating Brewster and sets out to warn the guy off, but once he catches a glimpse of Brewster’s terribly scarred back, he begins to suspect something awful is going on at the boy’s home. Concern and conscience win out, and he and Brewster begin to become friends, which is when Tennyson first notices that the scabs on his knuckles (a lacrosse injury) have miraculously disappeared in Brew’s presence. It takes a while for the specifics of his ability to come to light, and an interminable time for Tennyson and Brontë to realize that Brew’s ability to take away pain also extends to their feelings.

At first, I thought they did realize that Brew could quell mental anguish, and that that was part of the reason they convinced/manipulated their on-the-verge-of-divorce parents into taking temporary custody of Brew and his brother, Cody, after their guardian, Uncle Hoyt, passes away. Selfish to use Brew in this way, yes, but believably so for desperate teens. Eventually, though, it seems they really did not know, which is why Brontë kept pushing and pushing for Brew to make new friends, never considering that, for him, more people to care about means more potential injury. Uncle Hoyt was an abusive drunken bastard, true, but his ability to hang on to his own anger (instead of passing it off to Brew) and his insistence that Brew keep his distance from the world are seen in a new light by the novel’s end. (And speaking of the end, reports of its cheesiness are not exaggerated. The last few lines made me go “Pfft.”)

Even with the mystery of Brewster’s powers, Bruiser lacks the high-impact concept of Unwind. Instead of an epic dystopia where the whole country is going in a bizarre direction, Tennyson and Brontë’s world is defined by their home life, where they can tell that something very wrong is happening between their parents. Brew’s presence in their home acts as a balm for a while, but eventually they want to own their own pain because it seems so wrong to feel content while their family crumbles. The novel may not be as dramatic as Unwind, but is possessed of its own subtle themes and messages. I’ll definitely be reading more Shusterman in the future.

Upcoming 8/31/2011

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Hey, look up there! It’s the cover to my Pick of the Week! Haven’t seen one of those in a while, have we? Perhaps it bodes well for this week’s ComicList!

A week can’t be all bad when it features a new two-volume collection of Kaoru Tada’s quirky, funny Itazura na Kiss (Digital Manga), can it? Kotoko tries to hang on to the gains she’s made in her relationship with Naoki, and I think we can all guess how well that’s going to go for the poor dear.

Kodansha releases the 10th volume of Koji Kumeta’s sharp, satirical Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei, promising lots of field trips and ultimately dispiriting life lessons!

And Viz rolls out a few Signature titles. The one I’m most eager to read is the fourth volume of Q Hayashida’s gritty yet strangely charming horror series, Dorohedoro. That book has really grown on me since its debut.

Sci-fi, romance, satire, and horror… a nice mix, in the end! What looks good to you?

 

Tenjo Tenge, Vol. 2

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By Oh!Great. Released in Japan by Shueisha, serialized in the magazine Ultra Jump. Released in North America by Viz.

We left off last time in the middle of a big melee at a bowling alley, and that’s where we stay for about half of this omnibus volume (it was Vol. 3-4 in Japan), as our ongoing villains begin to show their badassery, and our heroes realize that they really aren’t strong enough right now to do much about it. Not even Maya.

In terms of plot, there is some stuff thrown to us. Aya’s supernatural powers become more clear in these chapters, and it’s noted that her sister does NOT have the same ability – despite apparently being able to turn into a little kid. Of course, with great power comes great responsibility, and Aya’s still a moody teenager – she knows there’s no one to blame regarding Soichiro falling for her sister, but gets jealous anyway, and luckily there’s a handy demon blade to bring out her darker emotions. We don’t get to see what happens with her here, but I imagine it won’t be pleasant.

Then there’s her sister Maya, who gets expelled from school as a consequence of ‘defying’ the executive council at the bowling alley. In the present-day, she’s seemingly trying to do what’s best for the club, despite having ‘I am doomed’ written across her forehead. We do start to get a look at her past towards the end, though, featuring a Maya who has all the bravado of Soichiro – and like Soichiro, gets her ass handed to her. Multiple times. We also meet her brother in the flashback, whose death plays such a huge role in the mentalities of the cast.

To be honest, after 2 omnibus volumes of Tenjo Tenge, the character I probably like and respect most is Chiaki, Bob’s girlfriend, who’s also the only non-combatant. Trapped in the bowling alley with the rest of the fighters, and at one point literally shoved into a locker to protect her, she nevertheless manages to talk Bob down when he’s given an offer by the head bad guy to join them so he can achieve his true potential. What’s more, her confrontation with Maya, and subsequent discussion with Bunshichi shows her trying to come to terms with the aftermath of her rape, and trying to help Bob by understanding exactly how it is things at the school got to this point. I know she’s merely a minor character, but she’s handled quite well.

All this chatter about plot and characterization is deceptive, of course. For all the demon powers, the tragic pasts, and the philosophy of why mankind fights, this is still just a lot of people hitting each other hard, occasionally contrasted with the nudity and fanservice. The appearance of depth does not equal actual depth, and so while Tenjo Tenge is an addictive page-turner, it’s still like eating cake rather than eating steak, no matter how many manly fights are in it.

Oh yes, and Masataka’s comic relief persona gets very old very fast.

Ekiben Hitoritabi, Vol. 1

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By Jun Hayase | Published by Futabasha | Available in English at JManga

Even if JManga didn’t offer anything else to interest me, I think I would still love them forever for introducing me to Ekiben Hitoritabi. (The ekiben in the title refers to the boxed meals sold at train stations throughout Japan, while hitoritabi means “a trip undertaken alone.”)

Ekiben Hitoritabi is a slice-of-life story about an ordinary 35-year-old train enthusiast named Daisuke Nakahara whose wife gives him a ticket to Kyushu by special express sleeper train for their tenth anniversary. Once he gets to Kyushu, Daisuke begins making his way north by taking a variety of local and little-used rail lines. He’s accompanied throughout most of the first volume by a journalist named Nana, whom he educates on railroad history and exposes to the wide variety of tasty ekiben to be found at the stations they visit. When they’re not rhapsodizing over the contents of these ekiben, they’re admiring the scenery or the trains themselves.

I don’t think this is a manga for everyone. The biggest source of tension, for example, is worrying whether Daisuke and Nana are going to miss their train when it’s taking longer than expected to procure ekiben. Daisuke likes everything he tastes—and, indeed, his love of ekiben has inspired him to open a bento shop of his own in Tokyo—and is in perpetually good spirits. There’s always a page turn before the contents of the bento are revealed, so that each always appears on the upper right-hand side, with each component identified. Someone is bound to make a remark about the taste permeating his/her mouth, too.

But it’s just so charming. (One learns a lot about Japanese geography, too.) Daisuke is content with his life and with taking his leisurely time, and he makes it look so awesome that I am frankly envious. Now I want to travel Japan by local rail and sample a bunch of ekiben! I must admit, though, that I’d be reluctant to try some of them. And the one that looked the best to me was the only one Daisuke had anything even slightly negative to say about. Here it is, the Shaomai Bento:

(Click to enlarge.)

Shaomai is the Kyushu term for shumai, and after noticing that many of the ekiben contain kinshi eggs, I had to look them up and I WANT SOME ON RICE RIGHT NOW. That, of course, is the danger with Ekiben Hitoritabi: reading it while hungry is sheer torture.

What’s not torture is the translation, which is better than I expected. I did get the sense that the work was spread between several people, however, because treatment of sound effects was inconsistent and some errors (like “bento’s” instead of “bentos”) cropped up only intermittently. I never had any issues with comprehension, though, and JManga welcomes feedback, so I did leave them a few notes about the minor problems I noticed. Splitting a word between two lines seemed to be an issue, for example:

On the whole, however, I am utterly delighted that I got to read Ekiben Hitoritabi. I doubt it would’ve sold too well in print format, so if digital is the only way I can get it, then I am just grateful to have the chance. Grateful and yet impatient, because I am going to need volume two pretty soon. And some kinshi eggs.

Ekiben Hitoritabi is up to volume thirteen in Japan and is still ongoing.

Pick of the Week: Lotsa Kodansha

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Take a look at the Manga Bookshelf bloggers’ picks from this week’s new releases!

SEAN: There’s any number of interesting titles due out this week (hurricane permitting), but the one that most catches my eye is Bloody Monday. First off, it’s from the brother/sister writing team responsible, under various pen names, for Drops of God, Getbackers, Kindaichi Case Files, Remote and Psycho Busters. Secondly, it’s an intense psychological techno-thriller with terrorists, computer viruses, and a lot of difficulty knowing who to trust. It might definitely appeal to the Death Note crowd who liked the manga’s tense back-and-forth plotting – or heck, even Die Hard fans, though there’s no obvious John McClane figure here. It’s also spawned 2 sequels, the last of which is still running in Japan.

DAVID: After the last few weeks of relative scarcity, it’s nice to see a diverse list, even if it isn’t a particularly bountiful one. For me, the highlight is the 13th volume of Hiroki Endo’s Eden: It’s an Endless World! This paranoid, post-apocalyptic drama almost always has something intriguing to offer, even when Endo strays too long in pet subplots that don’t seem entirely specific to the world he’s been building. I’m glad that Dark Horse continues to release this series, however slowly, though I always have to go back and refresh my memory of what happened during the last couple of volumes, because I’m an old man, and some of my brain cells go into retirement over an 18-month period. Of course, a new volume of The Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service would make me even happier.

KATE: I normally loathe manga based on video games, but I was pleasantly surprised by Hiro Mashima’s Monster Hunter Orage: it’s funny, fast-paced, and smartly illustrated. Mashima does a fine job of adapting the source material, translating game play into an actual narrative and not just a series of monster-fighting set-pieces. Oh, and Mashima creates two awesome female leads, both of whom are smart, sensible, and handy with weapons. (Not surprisingly, they find the strong but dumb-as-toast hero a source of amusement and frustration.) No, it won’t change your life, or challenge your conceptions about what shonen manga is, but it’s a perfect read for a subway commute or a rainy afternoon.

MICHELLE: I agree with Kate’s assessment of Monster Hunger Orage 100%, but rather than simply say “ditto” I will cast my vote for Warning! Whispers of Love, a new one-volume title from Digital Manga Publishing. I admit that I am judging this one almost solely on its unconventional cover, but that strategy worked well for me with I Give to You, so why not employ it a second time? The blurb over at DMP’s site suggests that the hijinks might get a little too zany for my tastes—one of the boys seems to have an ear-swabbing fetish—but I’m willing to give it a shot, at least.

MJ: I’m going to stray from the usual Midtown list this week and pick out a title that became available at Boston’s Comicopia last week, Kodansha Comics’ re-release of Until the Full Moon from mangaka Sanami Matoh. Having completely missed the original English release from Broccoli Books, I admit I’m quite eager to give it a whirl, if for no other reason than my undying love affair with its brand of old-school shoujo artwork. I would be content with simply looking at this manga, but I’m hoping to find it enjoyable to read as well. Absolutely my must-read comic for the week.

Readers, what looks good to you this week?

Bookshelf Briefs 8/29/11

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This week, Kate, David, MJ, & Michelle look at recent releases from Kodansha Comics, Viz Media, and Vertical, Inc.

Animal Land, Vol. 1 | By Makoto Raiku | Kodansha Comics – This odd little fable focuses on Monoko, a tanuki who discovers a human baby at the edge of a river. Monoko, herself an orphan, immediately identifies with Tarozo’s plight, and vows to raise him herself — a vow complicated by many factors, including an abundance of dangerous predators lurking just outside the tanukis’ village. Whether you’ll like Animal Land depends on how you feel about the tanukis, as they look like theme-park mascots with grotesquely oversized ears and china-doll faces. (I suppose we should be thankful that Makoto Raiku didn’t follow convention in super-sizing other parts of the tanukis’ anatomy, but still.) The tanukis’ behavior is just as outsized as their ears, steadily alternating between pratfalls and teary, anguished conversation, leaving little room for character development or new patterns of interaction. Younger readers won’t mind, but adults may find the tanukis’ odd appearance and frantic antics tiresome. – Katherine Dacey

Bokurano: Ours, Vol. 4 | By Mohiro Kitoh | Published by VIZ Media – Mangaka Mohiro Kitoh is beginning to tweak the established formula of Bokurano: Ours in some innovative ways. The presence of a pair of military observers (Seki and Tanaka) is making a big difference, for example, as they introduce more organization to what’s going on, resulting in some gatherings where the children interact with one another prior to someone being called for pilot duty. Too, it appears that two of the kids don’t actually have a binding contract to participate, which interjects an interesting complication to the story. (The kids assume this includes the lone fourth grader in their midst, but I somehow doubt she’ll be off the hook.) Lastly, the stakes are especially high for one of this volume’s pilots, who hopes to save a sick friend’s life with an organ donation, resulting in a cliffhanger that sent me to the SigIkki website for the resolution. Good stuff! – Michelle Smith

Oresama Teacher, Vol. 4 | By Izumi Tsubaki | Published by VIZ Media – I feel like I’m always unexpectedly learning something when I read Oresama Teacher. First, there was the informative sequence on how to foil attempts to tie you up, and now we learn techniques for dodging and deflecting blows as Mafuyu (in her mail guise, Natsuo) trains Hayasaka in the finer points of fighting so he’ll be prepared to square off against the members of a rival club who’re out to ambush the members of the Public Morals Club. Mafuyu is worried about how straightforward Hayasaka will fare in a fight, but comes to trust him and even realizes that, though gullible Hayasaka completely believes in and reveres two of her adopted personas, he also cares for her true self enough to put himself in jeopardy. With all the action and comedy, this isn’t really a romance manga, but I still think I may detect some feelings beginning to bloom… – Michelle Smith

Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei, Vol. 10 | By Koji Kumeta | Kodansha Comics – There’s a lot to like about Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei, from its crisp, confident artwork to its broad, equally confident characterization. But what’s really most impressive about this series is its ability to remain funny, volume after volume, while its format (and universe) remains unchanged. Nobody wearies of a gag manga faster than I do, but ten volumes in, I’m still laughing at Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei. Furthermore, volume ten is one of the series’ strongest so far. Jokes related to its then-new anime adaptation continue from the previous volume, enhancing (but not overwhelming) chapters revolving around subjects such as three-way standoffs, protecting “unnature,” entitlement, and “May sickness,” and even the volume’s most Japanese-specific jokes appear to translate effortlessly in the hands of new adapter Joshua Weeks. Still recommended. – MJ

Velveteen & Mandala | By Jiro Matsumoto | Vertical– If you read some of the cruder entries in Top Shelf’s AX anthology and found yourself saying, “I wish this was longer,” then Velveteen and Mandala is the book for you. Matsumoto pits dim, bickering schoolgirls against a horde of bemused zombies, throwing gobs of gross-out humor and precocious sexuality into the mix. Imagine a better-drawn Tokyo Zombie with female protagonists, and you’ll have the general idea. There’s certainly an audience for this sort of thing, but it’s equally certain that I’m not a member of that subset of comic fandom. To be honest, Velveteen and Mandala, with its indifferent plotting and feeble, familiar attempts at transgression tested my patience far more often than it rewarded it. Aside from some stylistic flourishes, there’s nothing here that you probably haven’t seen before, and it’s up to you whether you’re really eager to see it again. – David Welsh

Dorohedoro, Vol. 4

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By Q Hayashida. Released in Japan by Shogakukan, serialization ongoing in the magazine Ikki. Released in North America by Viz.

It’s really amazing how much I still enjoy every page of this series, considering that there’s so little forward progression in it. Those who get frustrated by a lack of plot are going to get very annoyed very fast reading this volume, which contains a baseball game featuring our heroes, two of the villains, and various zombies… apparently because Hayashida felt like it, who knows? But the game is still a lot of fun.

That’s not to say there’s absolutely nothing happening here – there’s a ton going on. It’s just not immediately plot-oriented. Caiman has figured out by now that Nikaido is actually a sorcerer, and though conflicted, he’s trying not to let that destroy their friendship. Fujita discovers that he can get revenge on Caiman and Nikaido, who killed his partner (remember that opening scene in Vol. 1?) and goes out to do his best, along with tag-along Ebisu. Fujita’s on the cover this time, so seeing him get more to do makes sense, even though he still tends to be a bit of a sad sack who is there for bad things to happen to. Which makes him a good partner for Ebisu, come to think of it, as that’s what she’ there for as well.

Speaking of Ebisu, we continue to discover little bits about her past before getting attacked by Caiman. Turns out her magic is connected to lizard people, so she too could be the one who created Caiman… except that doesn’t appear to be the case. Her magic appears to be quite dangerous, taking over Noi and transforming her into a rampaging lizard woman as well, forcing Shin to take measures against her. Then they have to go find En’s partner in order to save her, in what might be the shippiest scene in the manga to date. Fans of Shin/Noi (of which I am one) will be delighted.

We also get some development of Risu, the guy walking around wearing Caiman’s face. But the big development here is Shin, whose backstory is given here. As one might expect, it is rather tragic and filled with blood and gore, but it does serve to underscore how determined Shin can get whenever he’s after something. It’s getting harder and harder to see who the good and bad guys are in this series… there’s just a bunch of guys doing mostly bad things.

It’s not a perfect volume by any means. The baseball game was fun, but does meander a lot. And the way that they got Noi to be attacked by Ebisu’s smoke, with an assistant coming along, tripping, and dumping it all over her, is the worst of sitcom cliches. Still, Caiman’s off to the Sorcerer’s World by himself now, no doubt because a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. I look forward to seeing what happens. Dorohedoro is a series that requires a lot of patience, but I feel that if you hang in there there’s a lot of reward to it.

Otomen Volume 11

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Otomen Volume 11 by Aya Kanno

I’d collected a fair amount of Otomen when I stopped feeling the need to keep preordering it. I like it, but the episodic nature of the book means that most of the volumes revolve around the same conflict – will Asuka’s secret talents for feminine pursuits like knitting and baking be revealed and destroy his facade of manliness? The 11th volume is pretty much the same, but it wasn’t very hard for me to pick up on what was going on after skipping several volumes and Otomen is consistently funny.

Asuka is on a class trip/feudal Japan reenactment when he and his friends find themselves stranded in the wilderness. Asuka’s enigmatic and tomboyish girlfriend Ryo promptly starts foraging, while Asuka decides to lift everybody’s spirits by constructing lovely origami flowers. Ryo gets stranded in the woods and ends up cheerfully and capably rescuing Tonomine, who comments to Asuka “She may be a girl…but she’s a true samurai.” Other episodes in this volume includes Asuka attending secret baking lessons for men and a showdown at school over Valentine’s chocolate between Asuka and “Pheromone Prince” Suzaku Oji, the school nurse. Kanno’s sense of humor really comes through in her character designs, as Oji is drawn with flowing hair and a ruffled shirt worn under his white labcoat. He makes pronouncements like “come to me, my kittens,” and all the teenage girls swoon.

Asuka’s better nature begins to make inroads against the strict gender roles enforced by his school, but things are about to take a turn for the worse when his mother comes back from overseas. My major complaint with this volume was that there wasn’t enough focus on Ryo and mangaka Juta Tachibana. A bonus story of “Love Chick” the manga Juta wrote based on Asuka and Ryo with their genders swapped was included in the back of the volume. This was fun to see, since Kanno drew it in a deliberately more simple and insipid style.

Review copy provided by the publisher

43 Old Cemetery Road, Books 1-3 by Karen and M. Sarah Klise

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43 Old Cemetery Road is a quirky illustrated series for children that tells its ghostly story using letters, newspaper clippings, drawings, et cetera. There are three books in the series so far—Dying to Meet You (2009), Over My Dead Body (2009), and Till Death Do Us Bark (2011)—with a fourth (The Phantom of the Post Office) due in May 2012.

Dying to Meet You
What with the illustrations and the fact that the story is told through correspondence rendered in a large font, Dying to Meet You is a very quick read. And yet, for all that, it’s got some nuance!

Ignatius B. Grumply is a famous children’s author who hasn’t written anything for twenty years. Seeking to overcome his writer’s block, he rents a Victorian house in Ghastly, Illinois and is decidedly miffed to discover a boy and his cat living there. The boy, Seymour Hope, has been left behind by his parents, the owners of the home, who are on a lecture tour of Europe. They’re paranormal experts, and had moved into Spence Mansion hoping to confirm the existence of its rumored spectral resident. When Seymour could see her, but they couldn’t, they became convinced that a) ghosts don’t exist and b) their son is delusional.

But Olive C. Spence, the ghost of the woman who originally built the house, is indeed real! She sets out to drive Ignatius away at first, but after an incident with a chandelier causes more injury than she had intended, she begins to feel sorry for him and decides to help him with his book. It turns out that all of them have been rejected in one form or another: Seymour by his parents, Olive by the publishers who would never give her graphic epistolary mysteries a chance, and Ignatius by the woman he loved and upon whom he squandered his fortune.

Olive encourages “selfish and crabby” Ignatius to feel and care about others again, and thus achieves a warm and fuzzy ending where each of them gets something they want while drawing together into their own little family. It’s quite sweet, really. About the only complaint I could make is that some of the punny names are not funny—Paige Turner, Frank N. Beans, Shirley U. Jest—but I did have to snicker at Fay Tality and her dog, Mort, so they’re not all clunkers.

Over My Dead Body
Life at 43 Old Cemetery Road has been great since Ignatius, Olive, and Seymour began collaborating on a series of ghost stories. When a letter from Dick Tater, head of the International Movement for the Safety & Protection of Our Kids & Youth, arrives, however, everything is turned upside down. Tater objects to their living arrangements, especially the fact that custody of eleven-year-old Seymour was seemingly transferred via a rental lease, and his investigation results in Ignatius being committed to an asylum and Seymour being sent to an orphanage until his opportunistic parents deign to claim him.

The majority of the book is comprised of letters to and from Olive as everyone ponders how to escape confinement and satisfy the customers who have prepaid for the next three installments of their story. Dick Tater does various nefarious things, like canceling Halloween and instructing libraries to burn books that meet with his disapproval, and the book has a very pro-reading, pro-free thinking vibe as a result.

The book also features the second “just go with it” moment of the series. I assume this is going to be a recurring thing. In the first book, readers had to “just go with” the stipulation that sales of the trio’s stories (at $3 a pop, if I recall rightly) were sufficient to raise the $250,000 Seymour needed to buy Spence Mansion from his parents. Here, Ignatius and Olive (a ghost, mind you) are able to adopt Seymour simply by proving his parents don’t love him.

To this I say, “Whatever.” I am willing to go with it because it results in (nicely illustrated) passages like this, which I confess made me a bit verklempt. (Best attempted after you remind yourself of Seymour’s last name.)

And so, in a sense, we end where we began… in a 32½-room house built by a woman who, in her lifetime, never married or had children… and rented by a man who never married and always thought he disliked children… and purchased by a boy whose parents abandoned him. And so, even though one member of the family might still get grumpy now and then… and another might become cranky when she misplaces her glasses… neither would ever, could ever, abandon Hope.

Sniff.

Till Death Do Us Bark
One day, a shaggy dog follows Seymour home from the library. He has always wanted a dog, and so he asks his new parents, Ignatius and Olive, if he can keep him. They have reservations, and insist that he first attempt to find the dog’s owner, since he has a collar and everything. Seymour soon learns that the dog formerly belonged to Noah Breth, a wealthy man who recently died and whose children (Kitty and Kanine) are bickering over their presumed inheritance. But he doesn’t tell his parents this.

I must say that I did not like this book as well as the others. I like that Seymour admits that his goal was to be a perfect son, but that very quickly he was keeping secrets and running away. What I don’t like was how he was so passionately dog crazy when his best friend up ’til now has been his cat, Shadow. He didn’t show much concern that Shadow had seemingly run away after the dog showed up. And Ignatius, who is allergic to cats, suddenly had a flare-up and pledged to “get rid” of the cat once it was found. This is not the way to endear me to your characters, Klise sisters.

Of course, everything works out fine in the end and Shadow is nearby and well. The Breth siblings, who have been following a series of limericks devised by their late father on the hunt for his fortune, are shamed into suddenly becoming nicer people. A rare coin that everyone’s been looking for turns out to be exactly where it was telegraphed to be at the beginning of the story.

As a result, more than the other books, this one feels like something only children would enjoy. I hope the upcoming fourth book represents a return to form.