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Elsewhere update

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The daily-life mayhem continues to prevent me from being a productive blogger. (We just had a very mild earthquake. In West Virginia. Seriously. This is getting ridiculous.) But I am still holding forth in other venues!

I joined the Manga Bookshelf crew to discuss Fumi Yoshinaga’s ceaselessly wonderful Flower of Life (DMP) for the recently concluded Manga Moveable Feast.

I also make my pitch for the jManga title that interests me most… at the moment. I may soon be distracted by something sparklier.

I contribute a review of a smart and suspenseful horror comic for the latest Not By Manga Alone column, too.

And, if you’re curious as to what I like the look of from the current ComicList, you need only look to last week’s Pick of the Week.

 

The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya-chan, Vol. 3

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By Nagaru Tanigawa and Puyo. Released in Japan as “Suzumiya Haruhi-chan no Yuutsu” by Kadokawa Shoten, serialization ongoing in the magazine Shonen Ace. Released in North America by Yen Press.

It always amuses me when I try to review one of these volumes, as one would thinks that a review is designed to tell people whether they would be interested in a book or not, and these Haruhi-chan manga are by definition so narrow in audience scope that I have to add “the only reason you should buy this is if you’ve bought it already.” And yet here I am, reviewing the 3rd volume. Because, as a huge Haruhi fan and someone who loves 4-koma type humor, I continue to find these a hoot.

Given that this is a gag comic, it’s always interesting when I find bits of character development in it. You would think by definition there could be no character development, as the author is constrained by the boundaries of his parent series. Yet this leaves a surprisingly large canvas for building on what has come before. Thus Tsuruya and Mori’s friendly martial-arts rivalry continues, and Nagato’s addiction to games becomes so bad that when forced to give them up by Haruhi (for an eating contest, to give her ‘fighting spirit’), she nearly ends up dead. The manga is also well past the animated episodes as well, so no longer has to worry about the anime outdoing it.

The beginning of this volume is also, I suspect, important for another reason. It’s based off of Disappearance, and so we see the cast briefly styled in the characterizations of that movie. Seeing a rather hapless Yuki, overprotective Ryouko and clueless yet polite Kyon all having hotpot together, you can almost see the lightbulb go on in the author’s head. And now we have The Disappearance of Yuki Nagato, running in Kadokawa’s Young Ace, a spinoff which seems designed to take Disappearance and hit the ‘heartwarming’ button as much as it can. I will be completely unsurprised if Yen licenses this soon as well.

Haruhi gets a bit more to do here as well, not being confined by Kyon being the narrator. She still doesn’t get to participate in anything supernatural, but she still manages to come up with the weird ideas she’s famous for. My favorite chapter was likely the one where she tells everyone to try their hand at drawing a manga, with herself as the editor… then ends up spinning in a chair, bored out of her skull, while everyone else is doing things and she has to wait for them. There’s also some lovely ship tease between her and Kyon during Setsubun, when an argument about bean-tossing ends up turning into a tickle fight, which is innocent but doesn’t look that way. “I don’t think you should be doing sexy things!”

Mikuru probably gets the least to do here, but honestly, that’s true of the source material as well. And it’s lampshaded in a fantastic intro (in color) by Asahina’s older self. Bitter about the fact that she only gets to appear once in the entire volume, she sets about recasting the entire Haruhi franchise with herself in all the lead roles. Including Koizumi. Kyon is the exception, probably so he can make the tsukkomi response. Poor Asahina! Hang in there!

The drawbacks to this series are the same as prior volumes – it’s entirely dependent on its humor, so when it’s not funny there’s nothing else. Likewise, if you don’t like Osaka-style 4-koma gags, you’ll hate it. But I’m pleased to see the Haruhi-chan spinoff has become a world of its own, one where Taniguchi can turn into a giant 50-foot demon, Halloween can feature Haruhi wearing an eye mask straight out of 20th Century Boys, and Asakura can spend over an hour trying to kill Yuki and Kimidori-san with knives. OK, that last sounds like it might actually work in the real continuity. But in context, it’s extra goofy. As always, recommended highly to those who would get it anyway.

Personal best

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Sorry for the radio silence, but the day job has been kicking my ass lately. It’s not bad, just busy. To stave off charges of neglect, I thought I would share my contribution to The Hooded Utilitarian International Best Comics Poll, all of the posts of which are listed here:

I clearly had no influence on the top ten, and I think I barely had any influence on the top 115, but I’ve still enjoyed reading all of the lists people submitted, and I stand by my choices, even though they lean as much to “favorite” as they do “best.” And really, if you’re going to be totally honest, aren’t your favorite things the best things at the end of the day? These are all comics that I can read over and over, so they win.

 

 

Pick of the Week: JManga

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With only one volume of new manga shipping to Midtown Comics, this week’s pick looked bleak. Fortunately, David came to the rescue, by suggesting a new way for us to spend our money. See below!

MICHELLE: The big news in the manga sphere this week was JManga‘s launch on 8/17. I have already spent more money than I’d intended snapping up first volumes of some intriguing-looking series. All look potentially great, but I am perhaps most interested to read Ekiben Hitoritabi, a seinen series from Futabasha in which a train-loving man receives a trip around Japan from his wife on their tenth wedding anniversary. He proceeds to travel around, sampling the bentos available at the various stations. Like Sean mentioned in his recent review of Urameshiya, what I was really looking for out of JManga was a title I’d never heard of before that probably wouldn’t have sold well in a print edition. Ekiben Hitoritabi seems to fit the bill perfectly, and I’m really looking forward to reading it.

SEAN: As has been noted, I’ve already reviewed a manga from Futabasha, Urameshiya. I therefore wanted to highlight something new by another company. Shonen Gahosha has only free previews (in Japanese) of its titles best known here in America – Excel Saga, Hellsing, and Trigun). But it does have Volume 1 in English of a title that has not been released here – Soredemo Machi wa Mawatteiru, which translates approximately to ‘And Yet The Town Turns’ and is generally referred to as ‘Sore-Machi’. It’s about a maid cafe in a small town, and our plucky hero who tries to deal with events as best she can despite being not a particularly good maid. The manga also got an anime in Japan in late 2010, which might be why it’s available here, and is still running in Young King OURS, Shonen Gahosha’s best known magazine. In amongst all the worthy josei and seinen manga that my colleagues will no doubt be pushing, it’s nice to see a goofy, weird, slice-of-life maid comedy popping up as well to cater to slice-of-life fans and maid otaku (though I suspect this might be a bit too strange for the typical otaku).

MJ: With so much to choose from, I hardly know where to start! But I do have my eye on Hyakkiyakoushou, one of the site’s josei series from mangaka Ichiko Ima, previously licensed (but never published) by Aurora Publishing. I’m always a sucker for supernatural manga, and this one has lured me in with its free preview. There’s no new ground here, really, in terms of ghost stories, but it looks genuinely creepy and a little melancholy, both of which tend to appeal to me. It’s award-winning, according to the internet, with expressive artwork and some nice period details. The names of the first three chapters (“The Voice Calling from the Darkness”, “The Sea-Hare” and “Cherry Tree Sparrow”) appeal to my sensibilities as well. Looks like my kind of manga!

DAVID: One of my personal fascinations is fixated on comics that explore the way people work and the way that activity factors into their lives. I love just about any comic that’s set in a workplace in a meaningful way, and I think there are far too few of them. So the first offering to really grab my attention would have to be Anesthesiologist Hana by Nakao Hakua and Kabbei Matsumoto. The title is about as literal as you can expect from manga, offering a realistic depiction of the challenges of a young woman working as an anesthesiologist, an often-under-appreciated medical profession. The manga does not seem to offer a particularly realistic depiction of boobs, but you’re cutting out a lot of seinen if you use that as a limiting factor. I also find myself writing tag lines for the series: “She can put you to sleep, but her adventures will keep your pulse racing!”

Readers, have you checked out JManga? What looks good to you?

Bookshelf Briefs 8/22/11

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This week, Michelle and Sean take a look at several recent releases from Viz Media and Digital Manga Publishing.

Blue Exorcist Vol. 3 | By Kazue Kato | Published by Viz Media-The author here continues to flesh out both the magic world and the hero, as Rin gets a lot of chances to shine here. He’s shown at his best in the first chapter, where a familiar of the late Father Fujimoto has gone insane on learning of his death, and Rin is the only one to realize what Father Fujimoto GENUINELY wanted to have happen if this ever came to pass. (Also, he’s very cunning here, a necessary trait in a Jump hero, even Jump Square.) We’re also reminded, however, that he remains the son of Satan, and has powers that he can’t control – that may not even BE controllable. Luckily, we get a new badass introduced in the form of Shura, who also seems likely to be our fanservice character given that Shiemi is too shy to really fit that bill. Shiemi and Rin do get a ton of Ship Tease, however, especially towards the end where he’s forced to use his powers to save her life. Still quite solid shonen, if not groundbreaking.– Sean Gaffney

Itazura Na Kiss, Vol. 6 | By Kaoru Tada | Published by Digital Manga Publishing – Ordinarily, Itazura Na Kiss leaves me smiling, but this volume, despite the snifftastic first half during which Naoki finally admits his feelings for Kotoko and a whirlwind wedding ensues, is pretty aggravating. Once the newlyweds return from their honeymoon, Naoki announces that he’s going to delay filing the paperwork to make their marriage official because there are “some things [he] still need[s] to think over.” Poor Kotoko is left to flounder for two weeks until he finally deigns to offer an explanation, at which point he admits that he knew she was going to be confused and hurt by his behavior. Ass. Alas, it’s hard to sympathize with Kotoko much, because shortly thereafter she embarks on an excruciating stint as a student teacher, something for which she is supremely ill-suited. It’s very frustrating. I do applaud Tada-sensei for not ending the series when the two leads get married, however. – Michelle Smith

Kamisama Kiss, Vol. 4 | By Julietta Suzuki | Published by Viz Media-This volume expands on the previous one in focusing on Nanami’s growing love for Tomoe. Unfortunately, Tomoe is having none of it, and his reasoning seems a bit too cool to be realistic. This culminates in a scary scene on top of a skyscraper, where Tomoe tries to scare Nanami into dropping her attempts to get his affection, only to have it horribly backfire, almost leading to her death. Now things are even more awkward between them, and things aren’t helped by the arrival of an old foe of Tomoe’s, Ryu-Oh, who captures him and demands the return of his eye, lost hundreds of years ago. While the search for this shows off a particularly dense side of Nanami (gosh, why does she have the eye inside her after that ill girl who’s NOT HER DESCENDANT AT ALL swallowed it?), but also shows her true strength, as she realizes that she’s let her love for Tomoe change the way she acts. “Since when did I become so passive?” Fun romantic stuff, though clearly the romance will be slow going.– Sean Gaffney

Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan Vol. 4 | By Hiroshi Shiibashi | Published by Viz Media-The fight at the end of last volume is wrapped up pretty quickly, but that doesn’t mean things are over for our mafia boss and his gang… erm, sorry, clan leader and his yokai. A new group is coming in to challenge his territory and Rikuo (and Nura) is going to have to think fast in order to stay alive. Actually, what impressed me most about this volume is that Rikuo does think fast – he’s quick to action, plans ahead, and is not afraid to ask advice of his subordinates. He impresses me more and more as a good leader. Oh, and he also brings out the giant can of whupass as Nura. As for the rest of the volume, the romantic rivalry between Yuki-Onna and Kana is amusing, but this is a Jump title based on battles, so I don’t expect much two-sided romance at all. Also, the minor villain based on the ‘mad dog’ persona is genuinely unsettling.– Sean Gaffney

Tegami Bachi: Letter Bee, Vol. 6 | By Hiroyuki Asada | Published by Viz Media – It’s been five years since Lag Seeing first met Gauche Seude, the letter carrier who transported him when he was but a lowly parcel. Gauche inspired Lag to become a “letter bee” himself, but once Lag achieves that goal he learns that Gauche has left government service and disappeared. After an unexpected and brief reunion in the fifth volume, Lag spends volume six making mail deliveries while trying to compose a letter that will reach amnesiac Gauche’s heart. This is a little disappointing, even though the deliveries are somewhat niftier than usual, since Gauche is easily the most interesting character in the series and I want to learn more about the anti-government group for which he’s working. Even when on the backburner, however, this development gives the story some direction and something to focus on besides whether Niche, Lag’s childlike companion, is wearing underwear. I approve. – Michelle Smith

I Am Here!, Vol. 2

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By Ema Toyama. Released in Japan by Kodansha, serialized in the magazine Nakayoshi. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics.

I’m pleased to see that we’re getting the second and final omnibus of this quiet, down-to-earth shoujo series from Kodansha. It has a satisfying conclusion, though I admit that I think I liked it better when the series was focusing on Sumino trying to open up and make new friends. This final volume deals more with Sumino’s romantic love triangle, and it’s simply not as interesting.

We left off with the manga trying to confuse us more about the two online friends in Sumino’s blog, and whether one or both of them were the two guys at her high school. It should come as no surprise to learn that one of them is, nor should it be too much of a surprise to find it’s a bit of a role reversal. I was rather surprised to find that the other online friend was completely unrelated to Sumino’s life in every way, and in fact lives in Osaka. It was a reasonable fakeout that I appreciated. (It also led to a mostly boring side story at the end, but hey, can’t have everything.)

We do also see Sumino clash with the schoolgirl bully who hounded her in Volume 1, Aya. I liked this as well, if only for a look at the mentality of this sort of person. Aya’s already been ostracized by her classmates, and has pretty much already ‘lost’. But she’s bullying Sumino, because, well, that’s what she does. And there’s still these unresolved feelings inside her that need to come out somewhere. The resolution of their fight was cliched, but still rather heartwarming. Although I will admit I could have done without ‘the sunflower in my heart isn’t bent!’. There’s cheesy and then there’s just corny.

But the majority of the volume is dealing with which guy Sumino is going to choose – Hinata, the sweet, caring boy that she’s already grown close to, or Teru, the harsher but sexier type whose words gave her more encouragement? Needless to say, this also leads to a rift between the two boys, who are now after the same girl. I found this more interesting for Teru’s backstory than anything else – he’s a certain type of shoujo boy that if this were a title for teens rather than young girls might be the lead – a jerkass sort who tries to encourage the heroine in an oblique way. Hinata, unfortunately, comes off as rather bland in comparison, though he did get more attention last volume.

Overall, it’s a nice, sweet manga, but it’s still hard not to compare this with Kimi Ni Todoke and find it wanting. No new ground is broken, and after a first volume focusing on broadening our heroine’s world, it all comes down to the standard love triangle. It doesn’t really put a foot wrong, and if you like this sort of genre it’s an easy title to recommend. But you might want to grade it on a bit of a curve.

The Tempest

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By William Shakespeare. First published in Britain in 1623 by Edward Blount, William Jaggard, and Isaac Jaggard. Review copy from ‘The Arden Shakespeare: Third Series’, edited by Virginia Mason Vaughan and Alden T. Vaughan. Revised Edition.

First off, let’s get one thing clear right off the bat: no matter how much lovers of Shakespeare want it to be, and try to rewrite history to make it so, this is *not* the final play that Shakespeare wrote. Henry VIII and Two Noble Kinsmen, both co-written with John Fletcher, followed this, as well as the lost play Cardenio (also with Fletcher). There’s no denying that it would be awesome if we could read the play as an allegory of Shakespeare’s playwrighting and the final speech as his retirement form the stage. But that’s not what actually happened.

This is not to take anything away from The Tempest. There’s a reason people want it to be Shakespeare’s last play – it’s fantastic, easily his best ‘romance’ and among his top plays, with some superb dialogue, especially from the magician who many say was Shakespeare’s self-portrait, Prospero. It has a lovely palindromic structure, and some supporting roles that an actor can really sink their teeth into in the form of the island’s two natives, Ariel and Caliban. And, despite many saying that she’s just a passive girl who does whatever her father tells her to, there’s more teeth to Miranda than one might expect if played in the right way.

I must admit when I first read this in college I did not get any colonial subtext at all – most of my classes were not dedicated to finding the political or social themes in Shakespeare’s work, merely focusing on the plot and language. But apparently there’s been a lot of discussion about how much Shakespeare was influenced by colonial trips England was taking to the Bermudas, so much so that some used to describe this as Shakespeare’s American play. I’m not sure I’d go that far, but certainly the conflict between Prospero and Caliban has been what many directors enjoy focusing on as the centuries have passed.

As times and mores change, the way we view the three main characters also develops. Caliban was a hulking, ape-like villain at times, but has also been portrayed as something of a noble savage – though one has to be careful not to make him too noble, given how he willingly admits to attempting to sexually assault Miranda shortly before the play began. Likewise, while it is tempting to keep to the symmetries of Shakespeare’s play by portraying Ariel as the light to Caliban’s dark, this does not necessarily make him any less of a servant – and many excellent productions have focused on Ariel’s truculence when dealing with Prospero, and his joy once freed.

As for Prospero himself, his character seems to have experienced a similar trajectory to Shakespeare’s, as so many scholars and readers saw Prospero’s magic and arts as Shakespeare’s discussion of his own writing. And, as the ‘bardolatry’ of the earlier centuries has given way to a more balanced look at Shakespeare’s life and works, so Prospero is not viewed with the rose-colored glasses anymore. He can be surprisingly petulant and stubborn, even in his final speech, and it’s possible to read his decision to leave behind his magic and return to the real world as a particularly bitter pill to swallow.

I’ve talked before about how I would stage a production of the play I’ve just read, but unlike Shrew and Merchant, I have less to say here. Certainly there would be a few more special effects needed than I’m normally used to in my Shakespeare – I’ve mostly performed the comedies – but that shouldn’t pose too much of an issue. Other than that, though, just reminding the actors that they need not necessarily lock themselves into one interpretation on their first reading, an to let their own view of the character come about during rehearsals and multiple readings. I hope that this would allow the ambiguities I prize so much in Shakespeare to shine through.

I feel I haven’t said as much as I normally do about this play but, slight controversies about Prospero and Caliban aside, there’s not as much controversy here as in the prior plays I’ve reviewed. This is the last truly great play Shakespeare ever wrote – Henry VIII and Two Noble Kinsmen are interesting yet flawed, I would say – and anyone who loves the theater or language should read it if they have not already. As for this Arden edition, it’s great to read if you want to hear about the backstory of the play and get into the nitty gritty of Shakespearean scholarship – I loved the discussion about whether a speech should be assigned to Miranda or Prospero – and reads smoothly. This edition also updates it to cover the last 10 years or so of Tempest discussion, including the recent Helen Mirren version.

Roundtable: Flower of Life

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MJ: There’s a lot to love about Fumi Yoshinaga, from her expressive artwork to her rambling dialogue, and she’s one of those writers I consistently love, even for her weakest work. When I find myself searching for what really defines her, though, I always come back to Flower of Life. I’ve talked about this series on my own before, but there’s something about a story so warm and so driven by friendship that begs to be discussed with friends. To that end, I’ve begged asked my fellow bloggers to join me in this roundtable!

Every time I pick up this series, I’m struck again by just how odd it is. On one hand, it’s this meandering, slice-of-life manga filled with idiosyncratic characters, tangential dialogue, and no obvious central plotline. On the other, it’s eerily truthful and genuinely dramatic, often when I least expect it. For those of you re-reading the series or picking it up for the first time, how would you classify something like this? Or is there even any point to trying?

DAVID: I would categorize it as un-distilled Yoshinaga, to be honest, which is a category or genre all its own. Everything she does is really steeped in her own sensibility, and I think Flower of Life is possibly the best translated example of that. And it’s a little strange, but with this re-reading, I really noticed how sneakily structured the story is, at least in terms of its emotional arcs. They don’t really emerge as being as well-formed as they are when you read the series as it’s being published, but if you sit down with the whole series, you really get a lot of unexpected and resonant payoffs.

SEAN: I’ve only read one volume of the series so far, but I wasn’t particularly surprised by its idiosyncrasies, as I had researched it a bit and discovered it ran in Shinshokan’s ‘5th genre’ magazine Wings, which tends to be categorized as shoujo, has more of a josei audience, is predominately fantasy-oriented, and has a large contingent of what could be called ‘not quite BL’, including both Flower of Life and Antique Bakery. Actually, I was rather surprised to find that there wasn’t really any true BL in the volume of FOL I’d read at all, mostly as both that and AB are described as ‘gateway volumes’ for those who want a taste of the BL genre without any of that, y’know, actual GAY stuff. :) It’s just a slice-of-life school story starring a bunch of weirdos. I really enjoyed the volume I read, and will definitely seek out the others. If only for the bishie otaku.

KATE: One of the things that strikes me most about Flower of Life is how accurately it captures teenage experience. Yoshinaga clearly remembers her own adolescence, as she conveys the intensity and sincerity of her characters’ feelings with tenderness. Yet Flower of Life doesn’t behave like a typical young adult story, with characters striving toward a goal; Yoshinaga fiercely resists imposing an obvious dramatic arc on the material, even though her principal characters grow and change over time. I’d classify it as “slice of life,” but I hate that term because reviewers apply it indiscriminately to series as different as Azumanga Daioh and Saturn Apartments. Maybe “true to life”?

MICHELLE: “True to life” works for me! I’m not exactly sure how she does it, but there’s something so organic about the way that we’re introduced to the characters—a really sublime “show don’t tell” going on about their personalities—that, in time, one feels immersed in the class. Example: I am so weary of cultural festivals in manga I could scream, but the one in the second volume of Flower of Life is the best example of same I have EVER SEEN. And that’s because we’ve gotten to know the characters well enough to feel their excitement as they plan. Also, I think I could write 10,000 words about Majima (the aforementioned bishie otaku), but I assume we’re going to get to him later.

MJ: I’m happy to go with “true to life” as well, because that really is what it feels like. Also, Kate, I think your choice of words here is particularly apt. “Yoshinaga fiercely resists imposing an obvious dramatic arc on the material, even though her principal characters grow and change over time.” Yet, as David mentions, there really are some wonderful emotional arcs throughout the story. They just feel so natural, there’s never a sense that this is a result of “plot.” The characters simply live, and somehow it’s kind of a revelation when we realize what that really means.

Sean, it’s interesting that you mention BL here, because I wasn’t actually aware that Flower of Life was considered a “gateway” book, though I certainly spent much of the first volume under the same delusion as Harutaro.

And Michelle, I’m thrilled that you brought up the cultural festival, because I feel exactly the same way! And really, I think that’s where my 10,000 words on Majima would really get going.

DAVID: Can I take it back to how the characters really seem to breathe? Because I agree, and I do so even with the kind of heightened, commentary-rich dialogue. These people don’t just feel things and do things. They think and talk a whole lot, and while it’s not especially naturalistic dialogue, it’s very character-driven, and it actually makes the story barrel along rather than dragging it down.

SEAN: I had a lot of preconceptions before starting Book 1, and one of which was that it would be ‘sorta BL’, i.e. that it would feature gay characters but not gay relationships or something similar. You know, Wings-ish. The way that Tokyo Babylon is. This is probably why I was so amused at the revelation of the teacher’s gender, as having ‘him’ being a flaming gay man didn’t surprise me when I started the book. Which, of course, is exactly what Yoshinaga was going for, in order to get the payoff two chapters later. (There’s some great gags here – I loved the girl’s story about how to ‘properly’ sit on a toilet with a skirt – complete with visualization. Hilarious.)

MICHELLE: I had a similar experience, not because of Wings but just because of what I’ve read of Yoshinaga so far. Of course she’d have a gay couple in her story! I was actually kind of impressed she managed to fool me so thoroughly—as a hardened manga veteran I thought I was pretty savvy in regards to such tricks! It certainly puts all of Saito-sensei’s conversations with the students in a new light—often still inappropriate, but less potentially actionable than they first appeared.

I love, too, how Yoshinaga balances relatively lighthearted day-to-day stories for the students with some pretty serious dramatic issues for the adults, like Saito and Koyanagi’s relationship and the plight of Harutaro’s homebound sister, Sakura.

KATE: I’m really glad you mentioned the adults, Michelle, because Yoshinaga doesn’t reduce them to cartoons — evil principals, hot teachers, overbearing parents — but portrays them as real people struggling with real problems: maintaining authority in the classroom, establishing appropriate boundaries with colleagues and students. That’s one of the reasons I love this series so much: the conversations in the teacher’s lounge have the same ring of truth as the discussions at the manga club’s meetings.

MICHELLE: The presence of so many parents makes me very happy, actually. I especially love how helpful some are with the Christmas party the kids plan, and how the kids then come home and thank them, or tell them about how things went. Very few actual teens are super-powered orphans, after all.

DAVID: It’s reflective of one of the things I like most about Yoshinaga, no matter what category she’s visiting. Her characters tend to have rounded lives. They have friends or lovers, sure, but there are other people who populate their worlds. She’s open to the kinds of digressions that make stories richer for me.

MJ: Speaking of the Christmas party, I think it stands as a great example of why the story’s universe feels so real. The kids are initially over-optimistic in their planning, only to realize as the party actually approaches that they’re all under-prepared on some level. At this point, I’d expect a typical shoujo manga to go in one of two directions. Either the kids would pull together at the last minute and make their spectacular party dreams come true, or everything would be a spectacular failure, but somehow they’d have fun anyway, learning a lesson about what’s really important. Yoshinaga goes in neither of these directions. Instead, some things work out, some don’t, and the stuff that gets pulled together is for the most part not quite what they dreamed of, but adequate for reality. The real story is in the fun they have with each other and not any of the organizational close calls, just as in real life.

So, getting around to some of Michelle’s 10,000 words on Majima, one of the things Yoshinaga seems to specialize in is taking common manga tropes I generally find distasteful, and making them really interesting instead. I’m not a fan, for instance, of student-teacher romances, especially when the student is underage, but I have to admit that the obviously problematic relationship that develops here between emotionally-stunted Majima and his lonely teacher Saito is completely fascinating to me, in all its messed-up glory. Is it just me?

MICHELLE: It isn’t just you! I loved the scene where Saito finally breaks it off with Koyanagi-sensei, wanting him to remain the good father she always loved him for being, and runs into dispassionate Majima’s arms. But then I felt kind of bad for loving it so much. I shouldn’t be rooting for the teacher to choose her sixteen-year-old student!

MICHELLE: The message I got from this is “you don’t have to try to impress your friends, just be yourself.” That same idea comes through when Mikuni is allowed to see the true messiness of Harutaro’s room and they bond as a result. Really, Yoshinaga doles out quite a few lessons about friendship, like, “you don’t always have to like the same things in order to be friends” (Takeda, Isonishi, and Jinnai) or “you don’t always have to agree about everything” (Mikuni and Harutaro)” or “there are one-sided feelings even in friendships” (Yamane and Sakai). I feel like I should hand this out to teenagers as some kind of handbook.

MJ: Michelle, I’m totally with you. Also, I will point out that Yamane/Sakai is one of three questionably-canon “‘ships” I once begged for from fandom. I love their little book-borrowing story just that much.

DAVID: I don’t think I’d go quite so far as to say I liked the relationship, but I certainly understood it. It was a very credible part of the spectrum of imperfect connections that Yoshinaga portrays throughout the series. And I absolutely admire Yoshinaga’s ability to make me invested in a character like Majima without having to like him even a little bit. That’s a tough bit of acrobatics.

MJ: That’s exactly the thing, isn’t it? Yoshinaga doesn’t necessarily make us like everyone in Flower of Life or everything that happens in the story, but she makes it all so compelling, we dismiss the desire to reject it. As little as I like Majima, his character’s journey is one of the most interesting to me, because Yoshinaga never takes the easy way out with him.

I feel a little guilty, leaving Sean behind here when he’s just finished volume one. But Sean, I’m actually really interested in your comments earlier, because it sounds like Majima is actually the character you’re most interested in at this point.

SEAN: Yes, sorry for being so silent. I did only read Vol. 1, and am planning to review it tomorrow, so want to avoid repeating myself too much. :) And yes, Majima fascinated me, if only as there’s no glossing over his otaku-ness. He actually reminded me a bit of Naoto in Itazura Na Kiss, who is early, retro shoujo jerk, so doesn’t have the ‘soft edges’ or occasional pet the dog moments that our modern shoujo jerks get in order to make them appealing. Majima’s otaku creepiness is unapologetic and a little scary, especially to the Japanese who have a definite view of this sort of obsession. The joke, of course, is that he’s an older-looking handsome young man, who would no doubt have friends and potential lovers falling all over him were it not for… well, everything he says and does. Even when people THINK they understand him… witness the chapter where they think he’s offended by their teasing him and try to apologize… but he’s still upset as they go about it the wrong way. I’ll definitely be looking forward to Vols. 2-4, as I’m hoping that, while I’m sure he will gain some depth and kindness in there, he retains his basic creepy unlikeability that makes him so interesting.

MICHELLE: I find him fascinating for much the same reason: he doesn’t seem to have any redeeming qualities. Readers want to like him, but time and again, he gives us reasons not to. I think it’s a pretty stunning portrait of the fixated otaku, personally, with the arrogance and obsession coupled with a preference for 2-D girls (of a very specific forehead-showing, glasses-wearing type) and a lot of hostility towards real women (witness the top three things he has wanted to say to one).

I actually found myself wondering what Tohru Honda would make of him, someone whom her warmth could not penetrate and help to heal. I think she’d find him pretty terrifying.

KATE: I appreciate the fact that Yoshinaga doesn’t try to sand away Majima’s edges; I have a deep loathing for authors who give their curmudgeons and eccentrics falsely redeeming qualities. (It’s one of the reasons I can’t sit through an episode of House!)

Switching gears a bit, one of things I find most fascinating about Flower of Life is that it’s the least mean-spirited satire I’ve ever read. Yoshinaga is clearly having a ball poking fun at series like Genshinken — not to mention every shojo manga that involved a school play — yet at the same time, she isn’t mocking her characters for their passion; their let’s-make-a-manga enthusiasm is contagious. That kind of balance is very hard to pull off, since the story can easily tilt towards snark or flat-out hokum. The results remind me a little of Shaun of the Dead: it works equally well as a zombie-movie parody and a straight-ahead horror flick with comic elements.

DAVID: I think the Shaun of the Dead comparison is really apt, because the characters aren’t only reacting to each other as characters, they’re responding to the ways they fill certain genre tropes. Funny and great as the long set pieces are, like the school festival and Christmas party and study session, there are lots of little moments. A particular favorite is when Sumiko, the female otaku, tucks her hair behind her ear and reveals herself to be unexpectedly beautiful. That’s perfectly executed, especially for the reaction of the onlookers. They all recognize the moment, and it resonates with them, even beyond the actual surprise of the reveal. And I also love how Harutaro and Sakura totally geek out over how adorable Shota is. That’s like a Twitter conversation about favorite characters between enthusiastic fans. But really, that’ one of the great things about this series: that all of the characters are essentially fans of one another, finding those recognizable pop-culture resonances in the everyday people around each other, and celebrating them in these odd, quirky way.

MJ: That’s such a great way of describing it, David! And I think you and Kate have put your finger on one of the reasons the series’ warm feel really works for me. There’s no saccharine quality in it at all. The characters genuinely like each other (mostly) but so much of what holds them together as a group is a common point of reference. It’s odd that this should feel extraordinary, but when I’m reading Flower of Life I become aware of just how rare it is for a writer to really capture that sense of shared pop culture between characters.

MICHELLE: Another thing that prevents that saccharine feeling is that we’re not told over and over that they like each other. Yoshinaga simply shows it, over and over, in marvelous ways. Even the episode that comes closest to bullying—when several classmates gather around Shota and proclaim him a “good fatty”—seems to be born more of ignorance than genuine malice. And, of course, characters argue or disappoint one another. They’re not perfect sunshiney friends 100% of the time, but that doesn’t prevent them from being friends and may, in fact, bring them closer as they recognize their own faults in others.

MJ: As our time runs out, I guess we’d better wind this down. But honestly, I could talk about this manga forever. It’s a favorite that surprises me with its warmth and freshness every time I reread.

Thanks, all of you, for joining me here during such a busy week!

The Best of Archie Comics

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When I first saw the solicit for this title, I admit I didn’t pay it quite as much attention as I could have. Between the chronological archives Dark Horse has started and the hardcover collections by artist, there has been a glut of old Archie re-releases, with more coming every month. This one was a chunky 400-page paperback from Archie’s own publisher, though, and about the size of its Double Digests. Despite its rather uninspiring cover art (which remains a weakness), I decided to give it a shot.

It’s not *quite* a Best Of – the publisher is trying to give a historical overview of the titles the company put out, and thus you’ll see stuff here of lower quality that nevertheless gives a broader look than just a bunch of Archie love triangle stories – but it’s actually a very decent effort. The stories all have as many credits as they were able to locate, and a short paragraph either saying why they felt this story deserved to be in the book, why this ‘sort’ of story typifies Archie and his friends, or the occasional celebrity blurb. Each decade gets about 50 pages, ending with the Life With Archie years that we’re getting right now.

As for the stories I mentioned above, we see many of the other titles Archie put out over the years that weren’t Archie. Some are famous enough to stand on their own – it’s nice to see the first Sabrina comic here, as well as a couple of Josie and the Pussycats stories (though I’d like to have seen something from the early, pre-band Josie years). And then there’s things like Wilbur, Ginger, and That Wilkin Boy, all of which try unsuccessfully to duplicate Archie’s formula with writing and characters that simply aren’t as good. Still, it’s interesting to see them here (we even get a glimpse of the infamous Super Duck) as a sign that it wasn’t just recently that Archie would try lots of different ideas to see what stuck – they were *always* doing it.

As for the Archie stories themselves, they are solid and readable – this is more of the Best Of that the title led me to expect. In particular, every time you see Bob Bolling credited you are in for a real treat. He’s got 3 stories in here, two featuring his specialty – The ‘Little Archie’ Archie as a kid strips – and they’re all brilliant, with two of them dredging out memories in me from when I was a small boy reading digests myself. Seeing Little Archie drag Betty through Riverdale’s worst outgrowth in order to put off her obsession with him – only to have it backfire and end in one of the most heartwarming moments in the history of the series – is beautiful. Likewise, one of his stories with adult Archie shows Betty misunderstanding seeing Archie and Veronica after he was just on a date with her, and spiraling into a blue funk. Archie’s solution requires a major deus ex machina, but we don’t care, as it’s simply so sweet. There needs to be a Bolling collection asap.

We do get a few stories we’ve seen reprinted many times over the last two years – Archie’s debut, the first appearance of Veronica, that Reggie with the football game – but that’s simply as the archive has skewed heavily towards the 40s and debuts, and you can’t really leave them out. But there’s other fascinating stuff here – some Katy Keene and Archie pin-ups, a few Jughead Dipsy Doodles, and of course Archie in the early 1970s taking the time to explain his growing media empire to the reader. We also get a few reminders that it wasn’t just experiments with other characters or series that didn’t work out for Archie. Witness Jughead’s pin that makes him irresistible to women, or ‘The New Archies’ trying to split the difference between Archie and Little Archie, or even things like Alexandra from Josie having magical powers – which, naturally, she uses for evil.

The book ends with a few stories that are right up to date. We get a Life With Archie from the current series, the only comic in here longer than 6 pages (by design, the editors admit), as well as a very funny Reggie comic about an anthropomorphic personification of his ego – and you can imagine how big it is. Kevin Keller even gets mentioned as a new breakout character – although his sexuality is not mentioned, FYI. And lastly, we see they’re still trying new things – the very last strips are one-page gag comics featuring Jinx, a teenage version of the bratty L’il Jinx from decades earlier.

There’s things I wish we’d seen in here – I’d have liked a few of the more serious 70s-style political stories, and I’d have loved one of the old ‘Betty Cooper is insane’ stories that the web has highlighted. But really, you can’t do a best of for Archie in only 400 pages – there’s simply too much. What you can do is give a sampler and show that Archie has, for the past 70 years, been doing what it’s doing today – writing fun, likeable stories and then finding ways to market them in any way possible. And if that defines Archie as a business more than a character, that’s not to say that the character is weak. You’d never have lasted 70 years without people loving Archie and his friends, and this collection shows why everyone loves them. As a history, it’s fine, and I would not mind seeing a second volume in a similar vein.

You can leave out That Wilkin Boy next time, though.