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Tenjo Tenge Volume 1

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

Well, I must admit, I feel I brought this on myself. I kept bringing up the fact that Japan was filled with delinquent manga, featuring entire schools filled with young bruisers of both sexes who are there to kick ass, take names, and fight increasingly stronger other guys. And I noted how we rarely saw these over here, and that when we did (Digital Manga Publishing’s three released volumes of Worst come to mind), they tend not to do so well.

So now we have a re-release of the classic boobs ‘n martial arts extravaganza Tenjo Tenge, this time with all of the sex that original publisher CMX covered up or simply cut out. This volume actually contains the first two volumes of the original series (and confusingly, has the cover for Volume 2 on its cover and the original cover for Volume 1 before the second volume), and is unedited as far as I can tell. I don’t have the original Japanese to compare it to, but certainly looking at several of the sequences, if Viz *is* editing anything I can’t imagine what it is. It also has lots of nice color pages, and is slightly larger in size than the typical manga volume – it’s a really nice reproduction.

As for the content, it’s exactly what a young reader of Ultra Jump would want. Really, Oh!Great knows his audience and delivers exactly what they’re after without fail. There’s lots of nudity and suggestion of sex (and one rape scene that gets fairly graphic), lots of fists flying and kicks connecting, and a school full of people who like to pose and sneer. It is, in other words, the PERFECT manga for fourteen-year-old boys. There seems to be a bit of a plot regarding the past of the school’s club and the heroine’s dead brother, and some vague supernatural powers at work, but none of that detracts from what the manga is there to deliver. You need SOME plot to hang your sex and violence on.

Soichiro and Bob (half-black, half-Japanese) are two best friends who are used to dominating their old school by being the top fighters around. They arrive at Todo Academy ready to put it under their thumb, only to find that the students here are even better fighters, who can kick their ass without breaking much of a sweat. This delights them, as they’re itching to find anyone who can drive them to be even better. Of course, as Bob knows and Soichiro starts to learn here, you need a reason to be strong besides ‘strong is cool’.

The characters here are all types, but they’re decent enough types – for characters where you know their whole arc in advance, they don’t put a foot wrong. Aya is the classic overenthusiastic girl who has already declared the hero her husband (shades of Lum/Shampoo/etc.) but is plagued by inner doubts. Her sister Maya is a mentor figure so far, but shows signs that she has a troubling past that drives her. Soichiro seems to be the idiot hero who will get better and faster based on pure instinct. Heck, even Chiaki, Bob’s girlfriend whose sole role in the story seems to be to have sex with her boyfriend and get threatened, is handled pretty well – after the aforementioned rape scene (she was the victim), her laughter and bravado at saying that he didn’t go all the way and that she fought him off is both heartbreaking and realistic, especially contrasted with the three broken heroes she’s trying to pass it off to. (The rape itself is incredibly exploitative, of course, a classic example of Oh!Great trying to have his cake and eat it too.)

And then there’s Isuzu. A heh. Well, I know that sort of fetish is out there, and for those who love it, here she is.

I don’t want to give the impression that this is anything more than a pandering school delinquent manga with fantasy overtones, as that’s just what it is. There’s an incredibly bad onsen scene that is there to give faux yuri fanservice and nothing more. And though I did note that there are semblances of a plot here, I do not expect this to remotely overtake the manga’s primary goals: to excite and titillate. And yes, the girls look like plastic fantastic lovers.

That said, if a manga succeeds entirely at giving its target audience exactly what they want, can one call it a failure because it doesn’t deliver at all outside that target? Tenjo Tenge is what it is, a boobs ‘n martial arts manga. And with ten more omnibus volumes to go, there’s a lot of both of those still to come. I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone who doesn’t enjoy people hitting each other with grins on their faces while girls with unrealistic bodies lose their clothing a lot. If you don’t mind that? I think this is quite decent, and even entertaining.

Monster Hunter Orage, Vol. 1

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As a critic, few words fill me with more trepidation than “inspired by the popular video game.” I’ve read my share of video game manga, most of which were thin on plot and characterization but heavy on explanation. Every so often, however, I run across a series like Monster Hunter Orage, which manages to stay true to its roots while offering something to readers who’ve never played the game.

What makes Monster Hunter work is Hiro Mashima’s script, which does a solid job of translating game play into genuine plot. In the original game, players answered to a town guild, accepting orders to hunt or capture a variety of monsters. Players could fly solo or team up with one, two, or three other gamers to bring down bigger monsters and boost their skill rating. (The ultimate object of the game was to attain the highest skill level, rather than accumulate the greatest number of points.)

In the manga, Mashima builds a story around Shiki, a hunter on a quest to find Myo Galuna, a.k.a. the Thunder Dragon. Shiki is a Seal Hunter, a special category of monster-slayer who’s free to pursue game without interference from town guilds. Though he’s strong and skilled, his brash behavior and social cluelessness prove serious barriers to finding comrades — that is, until he meets Ailee, a fiercely independent hunter who shares Shiki’s desire to find the Thunder Dragon, and Sakya, a gunner who wants to avenge her father’s death.

Shiki and Ailee’s peppery rapport provides a welcome jolt of comic energy, whether they’re arguing about how to kill a monster or how to catch dinner. Like many of Mashima’s heroines, Ailee has little tolerance for teenage male foolishness, and frequently dismisses Shiki with a withering comment. (When they first meet, for example, Shiki blurts out, “Say, haven’t we met before?”, to which Ailee replies, “It’s been forever since I heard that stale pick-up line. Wait. Don’t respond. Just go somewhere else.”) Other supporting characters play a similar role in keeping the tone breezy: the Prince, a preening, foolish hunter, is font of malapropisms, while Maru, the Prince’s sidekick, provides an energetic stream of patter whenever the two appear together.

The art is as nimble as the script, relying heavily on Mashima’s crisp linework to give definition to his characters, monsters, and landscapes; he’s as sparing with screentone as Arina Tanemura is with white space. Though the characters have marvelous, elastic faces, capable of registering fifteen degrees of surprise and indignation, the monsters are unimpressive; they look a lot like dinosaurs with extra feathers and appendages. Put the men and the monsters together, however, and the results are terrific: the fights are graceful and swift, allowing the main characters to demonstrate their martial arts acumen without dragging out the conflict over three or four chapters.

If I had any complaint about Monster Hunter Orage, it’s that the story quickly falls into a predictable pattern. The outcome of the fights is never in question, nor is Shiki’s role as the hunter who will ultimately be the one to outsmart the monster. Even efforts to introduce subplots only go so far; by the end of volume one, it’s clear that the Prince will do anything to destroy Shiki, but his buffoonish behavior and general incompetence make him a less-than-credible threat to the heroes.

But if Monster Hunter isn’t as deep as it could be, it’s still a lot of fun, propelled by a goofy, anything-for-a-laugh script, appealing characters, and plenty of man-on-monster action. And at four volumes, the series won’t overstay its welcome. A good beach read.

MONSTER HUNTER ORAGE, VOL. 1 • BY HIRO MASHIMA • KODANSHA COMICS USA • 192 pp. • RATING: TEEN (13+)

Monster Hunter Orage, Vol. 1

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As a critic, few words fill me with more trepidation than “inspired by the popular video game.” I’ve read my share of video game manga, most of which were thin on plot and characterization but heavy on explanation. Every so often, however, I run across a series like Monster Hunter Orage, which manages to stay true to its roots while offering something to readers who’ve never played the game.

What makes Monster Hunter work is Hiro Mashima’s script, which does a solid job of translating game play into genuine plot. In the original game, players answered to a town guild, accepting orders to hunt or capture a variety of monsters. Players could fly solo or team up with one, two, or three other gamers to bring down bigger monsters and boost their skill rating. (The ultimate object of the game was to attain the highest skill level, rather than accumulate the greatest number of points.)

In the manga, Mashima builds a story around Shiki, a hunter on a quest to find Myo Galuna, a.k.a. the Thunder Dragon. Shiki is a Seal Hunter, a special category of monster-slayer who’s free to pursue game without interference from town guilds. Though he’s strong and skilled, his brash behavior and social cluelessness prove serious barriers to finding comrades — that is, until he meets Ailee, a fiercely independent hunter who shares Shiki’s desire to find the Thunder Dragon, and Sakya, a gunner who wants to avenge her father’s death.

Shiki and Ailee’s peppery rapport provides a welcome jolt of comic energy, whether they’re arguing about how to kill a monster or how to catch dinner. Like many of Mashima’s heroines, Ailee has little tolerance for teenage male foolishness, and frequently dismisses Shiki with a withering comment. (When they first meet, for example, Shiki blurts out, “Say, haven’t we met before?”, to which Ailee replies, “It’s been forever since I heard that stale pick-up line. Wait. Don’t respond. Just go somewhere else.”) Other supporting characters play a similar role in keeping the tone breezy: the Prince, a preening, foolish hunter, is font of malapropisms, while Maru, the Prince’s sidekick, provides an energetic stream of patter whenever the two appear together.

The art is as nimble as the script, relying heavily on Mashima’s crisp linework to give definition to his characters, monsters, and landscapes; he’s as sparing with screentone as Arina Tanemura is with white space. Though the characters have marvelous, elastic faces, capable of registering fifteen degrees of surprise and indignation, the monsters are unimpressive; they look a lot like dinosaurs with extra feathers and appendages. Put the men and the monsters together, however, and the results are terrific: the fights are graceful and swift, allowing the main characters to demonstrate their martial arts acumen without dragging out the conflict over three or four chapters.

If I had any complaint about Monster Hunter Orage, it’s that the story quickly falls into a predictable pattern. The outcome of the fights is never in question, nor is Shiki’s role as the hunter who will ultimately be the one to outsmart the monster. Even efforts to introduce subplots only go so far; by the end of volume one, it’s clear that the Prince will do anything to destroy Shiki, but his buffoonish behavior and general incompetence make him a less-than-credible threat to the heroes.

But if Monster Hunter isn’t as deep as it could be, it’s still a lot of fun, propelled by a goofy, anything-for-a-laugh script, appealing characters, and plenty of man-on-monster action. And at four volumes, the series won’t overstay its welcome. A good beach read.

MONSTER HUNTER ORAGE, VOL. 1 • BY HIRO MASHIMA • KODANSHA COMICS USA • 192 pp. • RATING: TEEN (13+)

A Pair of TOKYOPOP Stragglers

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Just when it seemed like none of those May TOKYOPOP titles was going to materialize, Diamond Distributors revealed that it still had a few surprises up its figurative sleeve. Stragglers, originally scheduled for an early May release, began to trickle into comic shops. I managed to acquire several, including two books—volume eight of Happy Cafe and volume three of The Stellar Six of Gingacho—that I had lost all hope of ever seeing. Although I’m still incredibly sad about TOKYOPOP’s demise, I can’t help looking upon these last releases as an unexpected gift.

Happy Cafe 8 by Kou Matsuzuki
The eighth volume of Happy Cafe offers more cheerful yet insubstantial slice-of-life episodes revolving around the staff of Cafe Bonheur. We check back in with sixth-grader Kenji, Uru’s cousin, and meet the girl who likes him. We see Shindo apologize for making Uru cry, meet Ichiro’s doppelganger/father, and watch as two different guys try and fail to express their feelings for the oblivious Uru.

There are actually four guys now who fancy Uru, mostly because of her bright smile and talent at offering sunny advice as necessary. It’s a little much, but at least doesn’t feel as implausible as with series in which the heroine has no redeeming qualities whatsoever and yet seems to attract a bevy of hunky admirers. It also seems like Matsuzuki draws Uru in a regular style more often this volume—because she’s so childlike and spazzy, she’s usually in some state of super deformity but here we get a few, albeit fleeting, moments in which she looks genuinely pretty.

As a warning, however, readers of this volume are at risk of contracting the dreaded festitis (extreme irritability brought on by manga depictions of school festivals of any sort, including athletic). On the heels of Uru’s school festival in volume seven we first have Kenji’s athletic meet and then the school festival of Sou Abekawa, one of Uru’s suitors. I would seriously be happy if I never had to read about another school festival ever again.

So, how does this fare as the final volume (most likely) of Happy Cafe to be produced in English? Pretty well, actually. The episodic nature of the story precludes any sort of cliffhanger ending, and though Uru continues to be utterly clueless about the feelings she’s inspiring in the guys around her, it’s easy to imagine that, after several more volumes of cheerful yet insubstantial happenings, she will realize her feelings for someone (Shindo seems the most likely candidate) and a happy ending will ensue.

The Stellar Six of Gingacho 3 by Yuuki Fujimoto
Like Happy Cafe, The Stellar Six of Gingacho has so far been comprised of warm and fuzzy episodic stories featuring a childlike heroine who is “very dense when it comes to romance.” The third volume is no different, but takes the first tentative steps at fleshing out the other members of the group—while continuing to focus on Mike (Mee-kay) and her pal/partner Kuro, whose love for Mike is a secret to no one but her—and hinting a little at complications to come.

Chapters in this volume feature plots like “Mike and Kuro rescue a stray puppy,” “Mike insists that her friends go dig up a treasure they buried when they were five,” and “a photo of the boys appears in a teen magazine and fangirls descend.” But boiling them down in this way does them a disservice, because each chapter usually has at least one really nice moment, like Mike realizing that Kuro has always been there for her or the boys defending the honor of the girls when some punk insults them. In fact, the theme of the series could be summed up as “friends are precious and special.” If you don’t want to read stories in which this idea gets established over and over again, then The Stellar Six of Gingacho probably isn’t for you.

Although the volume doesn’t end on a cliffhanger, some glimpses of where the story might go make the lack of future releases particularly disappointing. Who is the object of ladies’ man Ikkyu’s (aka “Q”) unrequited love? (I hope it’s ultra-sensible Iba-chan.) Should I be expecting the six friends to form up into three tidy couples for a happy ending, or will messiness ensue when Sato’s feelings for Kuro come to light?

Sato provides the parting thought as we get a glimpse of an older Kuro. “To me you were special. But back then none of us truly understood what that “special” feeling really was. Not yet.” If you really want to get me hooked to a series, pepper it with retrospective narration like that. Jeez. Talk about bad timing.

Hello To Manga Bookshelf Readers!

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Hi, everyone! My name’s Sean Gaffney, and since the very end of 2009 I’ve been writing a blog called A Case Suitable for Treatment (called that because I can’t remember movie titles very well, but I do like David Warner).

Mostly what you’ll be seeing from me here is what I’ve been doing on my old blog: lots of manga reviews, with the occasional post discussing cartoons, or Shakespeare, or Frank Zappa, all obsessions of mine. You will find my style of writing to be fairly stream-of-consciousness (crueler people might say ‘rambling’), but I hope you will enjoy my reviews as much as I enjoy writing them.

For those worried about the content of my old blog, fear not, it’s all here already, and available via the handy category dropdown to my right. Thus you will not be losing any of my posts begging you all to buy Excel Saga, Gatcha Gacha, or I Hate You More Than Anyone!.

A word of warning: I write a lot of positive reviews. I am pretty easy to please, and even with things that I know are aggressively mediocre I can usually find enough about them to praise. When I do feel that something is unworthy of your time, however, I will certainly let you know it.

I am extra thankful to MJ, Katherine Dacey, David Welsh, and Michelle Smith for inviting me to join their collective group, and I hope to be able to train harder to get to their level, in the best shonen traditions of friendship, perseverance and victory.

Welcome!

Pick of the Week: Wandering Son

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It’s a fairly spectacular week at Midtown Comics, and though the Manga Bookshelf bloggers go nearly unanimously for a single title, there’s plenty to choose from for all. Check out our picks below!

MICHELLE: After last week’s slim pickings, this week’s list is positively bountiful. I am tempted to pick the 42nd and final volume of The Prince of Tennis, because even though I complain about its many flaws, I still love it and hope the sequel gets licensed soon. But the mantle of manga blogger comes with the responsibility of directing readers’ attention to the best manga has to offer, and this week I award that distinction to the first volume of Wandering Son from Fantagraphics. Simply put, it’s the story of a transgender girl who meets a transgender boy. More, it’s about childhood innocence and the significance of things. It’s also lovely, subtle, and poignant. How long ’til volume two?

MJ: Normally, this is where I’d pick one of the many other great offerings on the list, like the new omnibus of Magic Knight Rayearth or the latest volume of Chi’s Sweet Home, but in this case I simply have to agree with Michelle. Wandering Son was one of my most-anticipated releases this year, and I’m absolutely thrilled to see it finally hit the shelves. This title should be on everyone’s must-buy lists this week.

DAVID: Given how much I enjoyed the first Kekkaishi 3-in-1 volume, I could easily pick that, but there’s just no arguing with the prospect of finally having Wandering Son in my greedy grasp. Unanimity of opinion may be dull, but it’s unavoidable this week.

KATE: I’d be irresponsible if I didn’t also join the chorus of folks urging you to buy Wandering Son. So, go buy it!

That said, it’s also a shockingly good week for manga, with stuff for every demographic. VIZ is releasing its first two Mameshiba books for young readers — and really, what’s not to like about talking legumes? — as well as several omnibus editions of popular shonen titles like Naruto and latest volume of Skip Beat!. Vertical is releasing the sixth volume of Chi’s Sweet Home, one of the few all-ages titles that speaks to readers as young as five and as old as fifty. And Kodansha Comics is releasing its first new series, Monster Hunter Orage. I’m normally immune to the charms of manga based on video games, but I was pleasantly surprised by just how fun Monster Hunter turned out to be. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that Hiro Mashima is the author, or that the story features lots of tough, smart female characters who find the hero’s brash stupidity endlessly annoying, but the manga’s video-game origins prove a fertile wellspring for interesting storylines. So my pick this week is volume one of Monster Hunter Orage.

Readers, what looks good to you this week?

Bookshelf Briefs 7/4/11

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This week, Michelle, Kate, & David take a look at new releases from Viz Media, Yen Press, Vertical, and Seven Seas.

Black Butler, Vol. 6 | By Yana Taboso | Yen Press -After several mediocre, talky volumes, Black Butler returns to form with a deliciously spooky plotline involving a traveling circus. Sebastian and Ciel once again go undercover, this time as a knife-throwing, high-wire act. Though the gothic costumes and campy dialogue may remind readers of Kaori Yuki’s Godchild, Yana Taboso is a more disciplined storyteller than Yuki, focusing less on atmosphere and more on narrative. As a result, volume six unfurls at a brisk clip, offering readers just the right amount of action, humor, and horror; anyone who’s ever wondered what really goes on beneath the big tent will have their worst suspicions confirmed by Sebastian and Ciel’s discovery. – Katherine Dacey

Blue Exorcist, Vol. 2 | By Kazue Kato | Viz Media – I know Michelle just reviewed this last week, but I have to reinforce the interesting spectacle of Kato trying to do interesting, specific things with this story and with her attempts to insert some of the shônen-y-est things that were ever shônen-y. Among the students at the school for exorcists is a young man named Suguro who seems to have sprung fully formed from the pages of the chapter about shônen rivals in Even a Monkey Can Draw Manga. His temperament and design are fresh from the factory. Fortunately, the rest of the class consists of interesting or amusing types that show a lot more promise for future storytelling. On the whole, this tale of budding demon fighters is building on the strengths of the first volume and largely avoiding its weaknesses. I’ll be sticking around to see how these kids grow into their roles. – David Welsh

Chi’s Sweet Home, Vol. 6 | By Kanata Konami | Vertical, Inc. – For me, a lot of the fun of this series is the way that Konami keeps generating new material without cheating by making her kitten protagonist too human in her thinking. She’s getting into Chi’s head instead of inserting unlikely or implausible thoughts there. As cute as the series is, there’s an impressive level of narrative fidelity in evidence. Konami respects pets and the ways humans care for and react to them. Of course, it’s also very entertaining, especially for animal lovers like myself who enjoy trying to figure out just what that furry critter is thinking as it undertakes evidently complex adventures that I can never fully understand. I do sometimes wonder about the learning curve of Chi’s human family. Everybody knows you don’t leave a cake on a low table with a kitten in the house. – David Welsh

Cross Game, Vol. 4 | By Mitsuru Adachi | VIZ Media – When it comes to Cross Game, I simply love it too much to linger over any areas for possible improvement. I’ve come to accept the frequent fourth-wall breakage, for example, and even some unfortunate potty humor can’t dim my enthusiasm as Ko and the Seishun team begin competing in the regional tournament. In addition to the riveting baseball action, which is a phrase I never thought I’d be uttering, Adachi shows, through a series of small moments, how in sync Ko and Aoba really are. It’s impressive enough that they share the ability to tell when the other is nursing a hidden injury, but when Ko senses Aoba’s unspoken melancholy at being left out of a post-victory celebration, it leads to one of the nicest moments in the volume. Even if you don’t think you like sports manga, you ought to give Cross Game a try. – Michelle Smith

Kobato, Vol. 4 | By CLAMP | Yen Press – Kobato may be CLAMP’s strangest manga to date. On one level, it’s a saccharine story about a clumsy but sweet girl on a quest to heal broken hearts. But on another level, it’s a bizarre fantasy in which exiled angels have been condemned to walk the Earth in the form of bears, stuffed animals, and one-eyed jack-rabbits. (At least, that’s what I think Ginsei is meant to be.) The two plots don’t mesh as seamlessly as they should, thanks to a confusing script; the angels’ conversations teeter on the brink of pompous nonsense, and it’s never entirely clear if CLAMP is being serious, or is subverting the angels-among-us genre. The artwork, however, is lovely to look at, filled with sensual lines, playful images, and gracefully executed character designs that make it easy to overlook Kobato‘s more serious flaws. – Katherine Dacey

Natsume’s Book of Friends, Vol. 7 | By Yuki Midorikawa | Viz Media – I think this series lost something when it shifted from more episodic storytelling to longer-form arcs, but I still enjoy it a great deal. In this volume, Natsume tries to figure out who or what is conducting a series of vicious attacks on yôkai and crosses paths with a ruthless exorcist with mysterious motives. It’s a solid mystery, but it lacks the delicacy and emotional resonance that this story displays at its best. It does add a few more shades to Natsume’s expanding world view and the occasional disillusionment that comes with it. There is an excellent side story that features a game of tag between Natsume and his yôkai companions that’s both raucous and wistful. And there’s an unrelated bonus tale that’s almost purely wistful in the best sense of the word. The meat of the volume may not be perfect, but the sides are choice. – David Welsh

Sakura Hime: The Legend of Princess Sakura, Vol. 2 | By Arina Tanemura | VIZ Media – The first volume of Sakura Hime: Legend of Princess Sakura earned the series a second look by introducing a murderous love interest. Though volume two curtails this conflict pretty quickly by having the Emperor propose a youko-hunting mission by which Sakura (part youko herself) can prove her loyalty to humanity and thereby achieve his protection, the story is still much darker than one might expect from Arina Tanemura. Oh, sure, there are bishounen aplenty and loads of romantic angst, but Tanemura seems to be making a real effort to stretch the boundaries of what kind of story fits in Ribon, and is even reining in her use of screentone! Sakura Hime isn’t perfect—it’s still pretty shallow and generic—but I think Tanemura deserves some kind of “most improved” sticker in recognition of her efforts. – Michelle Smith

Toradora!, Vol. 2 | Story by Yuyuko Takemiya, Art by Zekkyo | Seven Seas – If you remember how awkward boy-girl friendships were back in high school, you’ll appreciate Toradora!, a slapstick comedy about two teens who agree to help each other improve their romantic prospects. The twist? Taiga and Ryuuji spend so much time together that their classmates conclude that they’re dating, defeating the very purpose of their alliance. Volume two has its share of overly familiar moments, but it also boasts some genuinely funny scenes of Taiga and Ryuuji venting their frustrations and sharing embarrassing secrets. The only thing that prevents Toradora! from being a slam dunk are the supporting characters; Ryuuji’s helpless, dumb-as-toast mother is one of the least appealing second bananas in recent memory. Still, that’s a minor criticism of a series that captures the exquisite awfulness of teenage courtship with humor, warmth, and energy. – Katherine Dacey

From the stack: Maid Shokun vol. 1

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As I was fulfilling my obligation to read Maid Shokun (Tokyopop), a question kept crossing my mind: is this what postmodern fan-service looks like? The cover promises to serve up a hearty tray full of pandering, and the concept – what is it like to work at a maid café? – invites the reader to impose all kinds of parenthetical phrases and subtext. But the series is really just about what it’s like to work at a maid café. Seriously, who does that?

In this case, Akira Kiduki and Nanki Satou are the ones who do that, and they did it for Comic Gum published by Wani Books. I don’t know much about Comic Gum, but it seems like the kind of magazine where fans of the up-skirt will feel right at home. This leads me to wonder what its target audience must have thought of a series that goes so far as to squarely consider the inner lives of women whose job it is to cater to one of their fetishes.

Kiduki and Satou are clearly and consciously creating tension between the services that the café provides – pretty girls in uniform cheerfully greeting guests as “Master” – and the fact that these employees are real women with complicated lives independent of their work. The maids display a fondness for their clientele that’s free of condescension; they like that they can provide these men with brief escape from their often bleak lives. But they’re very clear on the boundaries between occasional fantasy and the day to day.

The creators aren’t averse to letting things get messy. One customer loses sight of the aforementioned boundaries, which triggers a complicated series of responses among the café’s employees. It highlights the delicate balance those boundaries require to sustain the fantasy and keep it safe. Media attention proves to be a blessing and a curse for the establishment, and the maids are forced to consider the possibility of becoming an adult establishment. A relationship between two of the employees reveals homophobia in the workplace. Kiduki and Satou have a lot on their minds, and very little of it involves giving their readers a quick thrill.

Unfortunately, the series is more interesting conceptually than in execution. The creators are better at introducing ideas than incorporating them into a story, which results in a lot of chatter that’s more expository than involving. The characters inspire varying degrees of sympathy and interest. Some are clearly types – bossy girl Arumi, dippy innocent Chiyoko – but some show real potential – floor manager Haine, the most grounded, mature presence in the joint. Unfortunately, the types get the most focus, which makes it hard to invest much feeling in the series.

Still, this series is a whole lot more than a cursory consideration would suggest. If anything, it’s too cerebral in its approach to allow a reader to really enter the world it’s trying to evoke. With a little more heart, it could be something quite special. Of course, we’re unlikely to ever find out if it achieves that, since Tokyopop only managed to release one volume before shuttering its manga publishing efforts. I wouldn’t say I’m devastated by that outcome, as I can’t see Maid Shokun becoming a cherished favorite, but this book has offered a lot of food for thought.

 

Random weekend question: independents day

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There’s a ton of excellent manga that fits neatly into certain categories and story genres. And there’s vast variation within those narrow-only-on-paper segments of the market. But what are some of your favorite manga that defy easy categorization?

Here are three that come to my mind:

  • Love Roma, by Minoru Toyoda, Del Rey, five volumes: With its chunky, low-fidelity art and funky comic rhythms, this series turns high-school romance on its head in some delightful ways.
  • Peepo Choo, by Felipe Smith, Vertical, three volumes: It’s a junkyard dog of a comic that you can’t help but love in spite of the fact that it will probably try to bite you at least once.
  • Red Snow, by Susumu Katsumata, Drawn & Quarterly, one volume: Yoshihiro Tatsumi’s indie shorts get most of the love when it comes to gekiga, but this rural-focused collection of magical-realist tales is my clear favorite among D&Q’s manga offerings.

What are your picks?

Pretty Little Liars by Sara Shepard

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From the front flap:
Gossip thrives amid the Mercedes-Benzes, mega mansions, and perfectly manicured hedges in the exclusive town of Rosewood, Pennsylvania. Behind their big Gucci sunglasses, beneath their perfectly pressed Polos, everyone has something to hide, especially high school juniors Spencer, Aria, Emily, and Hanna. Spencer covets her sister’s gorgeous new boyfriend. Aria is having an affair with her English teacher. Emily is infatuated with the new girl at school. And Hanna is using some ugly tricks to stay beautiful. Deeper and darker still is a horrible secret the girls have shared since sixth grade—a secret they thought was safe forever.

Review:
Confession: I have become addicted to the ABC Family adaptation of Pretty Little Liars. Now that it has started its second season, I figured it was safe to read the first book in the series. As it turns out, said book only covers the first few episodes of the show, so I needn’t have delayed.

The series was originally developed by Alloy Entertainment—who is behind most of the YA novel series that have recently become TV shows—to be a kind of teen version of Desperate Housewives. (I’d say that description is pretty apt, except that I think Pretty Little Liars is the better show, largely because when your protagonists do really stupid things it’s more forgivable when they’re sixteen than when they’re thirty-something.) Even though Sara Shepard receives sole authorship credits, interviews suggest that it’s really a team effort.

The first novel sets up the series and the secrets that each of its four protagonists carries. Back in sixth and seventh grade, Aria, Hanna, Spencer, and Emily clustered around their dazzling queen bee, Alison, who alternately beguiled and belittled them (and many others). She goaded them into a dangerous act of vandalism that left a fellow student blinded—an incident henceforth referred to as “the Jenna thing”—and then disappeared the summer before eighth grade. Aria’s family moved to Iceland shortly thereafter and the remaining girls—grieving but a little relieved to be free of Alison’s influence—drifted apart.

Now, three years later, Aria is back and so, possibly, is Alison, since each of the four girls begins receiving mysterious messages (text, e-mail, and handwritten) from someone calling themselves only “A.” A seems to know everyone’s secrets, and there are many. Bohemian Aria is having a secret fling with her English teacher, and also knows that her dad was cheating on her mom three years ago; obedient Emily is secretly attracted to girls; overachieving Spencer is not-so-secretly attracted to her sister’s boyfriend; and Hanna—impatient, impulsive, newly popular Hanna—secretly feels desperately unloved, and has a couple scrapes with the law while trying to conquer her bulimia. Chapters alternate between the characters, and it’s only at the end, when they discover that they’ve all been A’s victims, that they seem poised to renew their friendship.

It’s hard for me to say how I would feel about the novel had I not seen the show. There are differences, of course—a different timeline of events, characters who do not resemble the actresses ultimately chosen to portray them, some siblings for Emily, more bad behavior than ABC Family evidently was comfortable with—but nothing major plot-wise. I think the TV series is more effective at humanizing the characters—especially Hanna, who unexpectedly became my favorite—and making them likeable, but reading the book helped me understand the characters better, especially Aria and Emily.

So, why should you check out Pretty Little Liars, in either of its forms? For the cracktastic soapy goodness with protagonists whom you can still like even if they do ridiculous things like steal their boyfriend’s car because he won’t put out and crash it into a tree. Sure, I’m a little embarrassed to be reading/watching it at my advanced age, but it entertains me, and sometimes that’s enough.