Manga Bookshelf

Discussion, Resources, Roundtables, & Reviews

Blog

License request day: Adachi shôjo

by

I love a lot of shônen created by women. There’s Hiromu Arakawa’s Fullmetal Alchemist and Rumiko Takahashi’s Ranma ½. Yumi Hotta’s script for Hikaru no Go goes just as far to make the series a favorite as Takeshi Obta’s art does. There’s a lot to like in Yuu Watase’s Arata: The Legend, and Kazue Kato’s Blue Exorcist shows a lot of promise. I’m probably deep into the three-volume collection of Yellow Tanabe’s critically acclaimed Kekkaishi as you read this.

I would love to read more shôjo created by men to see if that construct also applies, but there’s very little available in English. I quite enjoyed Meca Tanaka’s Omukae Desu and Pearl Pink. I’m still mourning the discontinuation of Crown, largely for its sly, snappy script by Shinji (Sukeban Deka) Wada (though the title’s attractive art by You Higuri certainly doesn’t hurt.) And I’m positively impatient about the opportunity to read Osamu Tezuka’s Princess Knight later this year.

So imagine my excitement when I discovered that Mitsuru Adachi, creator of the title featured in the current Manga Moveable Feast, has done a number of shôjo series. I’ll happily read anything he creates (and I have to track down copies of Short Program, which includes some shôjo shorts), and I’ve already requested Rough, but I’m very curious about these earlier works.

First up is Slow Step, which ran for seven volumes in Shogakukan’s Ciao. It’s about a schoolgirl who’s looking for love, is besieged by suitors, and is harassed by a pervy teacher, and it involves boxing, baseball, criminals, and disguise. Why not?

Hitari Ryoukou! (which ran for five volumes in Shogakukan’s Sho-Comi), gives us Adachi in reverse-harem mode. It’s about a girl whose aunt runs a boarding house filled with high-school boys. Our heroine tries to stay true to her overseas boyfriend, but she’s developing feelings for one of the boarders.

Ah! Seishun no Koushien, originally published by Shogakukan, seven volumes, is about kids who want to make it to the youth baseball championships! Sound familiar? Still, Adachi seems gifted at finding variety in familiar scenarios, so I’m not going to let familiarity breed contempt or anything near it.

Of all of those, I think I’m most interested in the promised slice-of-life vibe of Hitari Ryoukou! Which one looks good to you?

 

Cross Game Volume 3

by

I was so happy that Cross Game was selected to be featured in the May Moveable Feast. It is very rare to come across anything that is so well executed that it immediately wins me over, but that was my reaction to the first and second omnibus volumes. In broad strokes, a battle for the soul of baseball has been set up over the first few volumes, and the third volume (which contains the Japanese volumes 6 and 7) shows the ultimate confrontation between the corrupt new coach’s handpicked team of elites vs Ko’s natural talent and the enthusiasm of the second tier Portable team. I love the cover for this volume, which shoes Ko and Aoba standing shoulder to shoulder and snarling at each other. It serves as an excellent illustration for the way their relationship is simultaneously close and antagonistic.

The portable team’s game against the main team also becomes a battle for the main coaching position. The Seishu coach Daimon continues to be blind in his pursuit of success. He and the interim principal don’t realize that the scruffy old man hanging out at the baseball field is actually the chairman of the board. Daimon assumes that the portable team’s losing streak means that they’ll be easy to beat. Seishu team start Azuma has been observing his teammates leave and Daimon’s complete unconcern for the health of his players. He announces that he isn’t going to be playing in the game, slamming his hand into the wall and saying that he’s too injured to play. Azuma only wants to play baseball with the best team, and if the Seishu team can only win with him, he knows where he really be should be.

Aoba is recruited to play with Ko’s team and objects to being assigned to play center because she wants to pitch. Akaishi comments that she hasn’t faced off against Ko in a long time. Ko pitches to her, and Akaishi confirms that center is now ok with her. The match starts, and the score remains tied at 0-0 for a long time. Azuma keeps making pointed comments at Daimon, wondering if he even knows the names of the teams the portable team lost to. It turns out that they were practicing against elite teams, and Ko was deliberately allowing hits for most of the game in order to give everybody fielding practice. The game progresses and the look of dawning horror on Daimon’s face is quite enjoyable.

One thing I liked about this volume is it gave increased insights into Azuma’s personality and motivations. He’s always seemed a bit like a grim warrior of baseball, but now I can finally understand why he’s so driven. Azuma’s older brother Junpei appears and starts trying to chat up the oldest Wakaba sister, Ichiyo. On the surface Junpei seems goofy and laid back, but when he comes across his brother training Junpei picks up a baseball with a practiced grip. Azuma tells his brother that he promises that he’ll get to Koshien. Junpei just replies that Azuma should have more fun with baseball and walks away, leaving the ball on a chair. Junpei was an athletic star, but his dream was derailed when he was injured.

After the long buildup to the confrontation between the coaches and baseball teams, it was a relief to see that the rest of the volume was focused on shorter slice of life stories. It felt to me like the characters finally had a bit of breathing room. Azuma moves in with Ko’s family when the dorms are shut down. Aoba is getting hit on all the time. Memories of Wakaba continue to cascade through Aoba and Ko’s lives. This volume felt like the conclusion of the first major story arc of the series. I’m still loving the combination of action, romance, humor, and drama. It is rare to find a series that functions well on so many levels. I’m eager to see the next chapters that show Ko working to get to the ultimate baseball tournament at Koshien.

Off the Shelf: Girls & Monsters

by and 6 Comments

MJ: Well, hello again, my friend! Does it seem possible that we’ve been writing this column together for nearly a year?

MICHELLE: Because I’m so proud of what we’ve accomplished and all the series we’ve covered, I’d say it does, actually, but it’s certainly gone by swiftly!

MJ: Indeed it has! So to continue being swift about it, I’ll get right to business. What have you been reading this past week?

MICHELLE: Heaps and heaps of good stuff, actually! In particular, the latest volumes of two shoujo series that were originally published by Del Rey and which have emerged from a long, gloomy hiatus into the optimistic sunshine of Kodansha Comics!

First off, there’s volume two of Arisa by Natsumi Ando. I’d heard good things about Ando’s Kitchen Princess—I’ve yet to read it, though this will soon be rectified—so it didn’t actually come as a surprise that Arisa is a lot of creepy, suspenseful fun, but that doesn’t diminish my gladness at all. The gist of the story is simple: Tsubasa Uehara and her twin, Arisa Sonoda, were separated by their parents’ divorce and haven’t seen each other in three years. They’ve been writing letters, though, and Arisa’s always depicted her life as close to perfect, with lots of friends, a cute boyfriend, and a successful school career. Imagine Tsubasa’s surprise, then, when soon after meeting up again, Arisa attempts suicide.

Tsubasa is determined to get to the bottom of what’s bothering her sister, and so attends Arisa’s school in her guise. At first, all seems normal, but she soon learns about a bizarre weekly ritual in which the students submit wishes to “the King,” who will choose one to grant. No wish is beyond the King’s power, and Tsubasa witnesses him/her successfully “disappear” a pervy gym teacher in fulfillment of a student’s wish. Her investigation suggests that the King is the class bad boy, Manabe, and volume two picks up with a twist about the King’s actual identity and the revelation that someone knows who Tsubasa really is and wants her to back off, else they’ll do something to still-comatose Arisa.

I’m a big fan of sheer atmosphere, and Arisa has it in spades. No one is what they initially seemed to be, and Arisa’s supposed best friend, Mariko, is shaping up to be positively unhinged. Then there’s her mild-mannered boyfriend, who really can’t be that benign, can he? It’s twisty and turny and suspenseful in an extremely delightful way, and I am quite glad that Kodansha’s got it on a bimonthly schedule because I am honestly going to dive into volume three the moment I get the tape off the box.

MJ: Wow, you know, I’d read a little bit about this series, but your description is the first that’s made me want to run to the bookstore and grab it up for myself. I’m especially interested in all this atmosphere you rave about.

MICHELLE: Now I worry I’ve overstated its brilliance, but it really is both entertaining and unique. If I had to liken it to anything, it’d be After School Nightmare, which has a similar “who among my classmates is the one I seek” sort of thing going on, at least in the one volume I’ve read.

How about you? Read anything good?

MJ: I have! My week has had a distinctly different flavor than yours, but also publisher-specific. It’s been a Vertical week for me, beginning with the fourth and final volume of Nobuaki Tadano’s 7 Billion Needles, one of my favorite new series last year. Adapted from Hal Clement’s 1950 novel, Needle, this series follows a sullen teenager named Hikaru whose life has changed forever thanks to an alien parasite (later two of them) who takes up permanent residence in her body.

Though I complained here a few months ago that the series’ third volume had taken an unfortunate turn, leaving behind its striking tale about human connection in order to explore new, less-coherant themes, I’m pleased to report that this is far from fatal. Though the story’s new plotline involving a planetary macro-evolution persists in its final volume, the series’ real focus turns back to Hikaru, whose personal journey really is what makes the whole thing work.

Contrary to anything she might have believed just a few volumes ago, Hikaru’s got people worth saving in her life, and save them she does, without anything more than her own desire. Sure, she’s got superpowers of a sort, what with all those aliens rumbling around inside, but her real strength is her own, and it’s a strength that she’s discovered by simply being human.

With all the excitement and chaos of final battles and whatnot, Tadano’s horror-tinged artwork really shines in this volume, particularly in its most esoteric moments. I’d even go so far as to say that the “macro-evolution” business is actually saved by the artwork, which manages to express itself more clearly than the narrative in those sections. Another treat is “Hikhikomori Headphone Girl,” the short comic that provided the template for Tadano’s Hikaru, which is included at the back of the volume.

7 Billion Needles isn’t a perfect series, but at just four volumes, it’s one of the few short manga series I personally can see myself voluntarily rereading. Given my preferences for epic storytelling, that’s no small praise.

MICHELLE: I’ve always planned to read this series, but after two or three volumes of a four-volume series have come out, one begins to think, “Well, maybe I’ll just wait and read it all in one swell foop.” I’m glad to hear, though, that it comes to a satisfying conclusion!

MJ: It really does, and I think it probably reads even better all at once. I plan to try it that way myself.

So what else have you got for us this week?

MICHELLE: The latest volume in a series that I know you adore, Shugo Chara!. After having meant to do so for ages, I’ve finally caught up on this charming magical girl series, just in time for Kodansha to release volume ten. And what an important volume this is!

When the story left off, heroine Amu Hinamori and her friends were infiltrating the headquarters of a sinister corporation known as Easter, who had finally acquired the Embryo, the magical wish-granting egg (long story) for which they had recklessly been searching. Although I found the big reveal of Easter’s boss to be predictable, his/her reasons for acquiring the Embryo are not at all what I expected. Amu works her Shoujo Heroine Magic upon him/her as well as upon his/her chief minion, who happens to be the stepfather to her love interest, Ikuto.

This, in turn, leads to some resolution in Ikuto’s home life, as he is finally freed of his obligation to help Easter and gets the chance to fully explain himself to Tadase, Amu’s other love interest, who has hated him the past two years. This is the best part of the volume for me because, as I read earlier volumes, I started to question exactly what Ikuto’s Guardian Character, the cat-like Yoru, said about him. Guardian Characters are supposed to have some quality the child would like to possess, and what was there about sweet but kind of cartoony Yoru that a brooding high schooler like Ikuto would desire? And then it came to me… freedom. Yoru is free. He can sleep when he likes, eat when he likes… No one can make a cat do something it doesn’t want to do. Freedom is something Ikuto has never had, until now. And now that he does have it, he’s going to put it to good use.

And then Amu and her classmates, most of them sixth graders, prepare to graduate. Honestly, there is so much resolution here, I began to seriously wonder what kind of material Peach-Pit could find to fill in the final two volumes! I needn’t have been concerned, however, as the final handful of pages serve up a shocking development that will, I suspect, ultimately compel Amu to make real progress on discovering what kind of person she really wants to be.

MJ: I’m so pleased that you are enjoying this series! Yes, I do adore it, and I’ve spent pages and pages of webspace explaining exactly why, so I won’t go into a lecture now, but yes. You’re so much on the nose regarding Ikuto and Yoru. And, okay, I will go on slightly about one thing. What I especially love about Amu as a heroine is that unlike so many shoujo heroines these days, she’s not an “ordinary” girl with no particular special qualities other than just being the heroine of the manga. She’s confused and unsure of who she is and who she even wants to be, but she’s got a multitude of possibilities in front of her. And though she’s interested in boys, certainly, her real journey is about choosing her own path, not choosing who to walk with. If that makes sense.

MICHELLE: It makes perfect sense, and that’s a great point about Amu! As a result, it doesn’t present as false when several boys are interested in her, like it does when the heroine is sort of hopeless. The series is magical girl done right, and I’m a bit sad that Peach-Pit hasn’t written more in this genre, though I’m now interested in checking out Zombie-Loan, another of their series (released in English by Yen Press).

So, you said it was a Vertical night, eh? What else is on the menu?

MJ: My second Vertical read this week was Usamaru Furuya’s Lychee Light Club. Adapted from a theater piece of the same name, Lychee Light Club is the story of a group of middle school boys who have created their own secret society sort of dedicated to their general rejection of the adult world.

As the story begins, they’ve just completed construction of a lychee-fueled humanoid machine (much in the mold of Dr. Frankenstein’s monster) apparently for the purpose of kidnapping pretty, young girls. After some trial and error, as the machine learns what things like”pretty” and “young” actually mean, they manage to capture one in particular whom they intend to imprison indefinitely as their own personal idol.

There are a couple of parallel plots going on here. When the boys are out at night, the girl ends up befriending the monster, tapping into its desire to become more human. Meanwhile, the boys are fighting amongst themselves over the morality of what they’re doing, who’s in charge, who’s devoted to whom, and so on. The overall point of it seems to be that the boys become monsters while their monster becomes human, though some of the specifics along the way get a bit muddled.

Let me begin by saying that I found this manga really fascinating and incredibly striking, visually. The whole thing feels like a theater piece, more than any comic I’ve ever read, and it’s honestly stunning. I am thrilled to have read it for this element alone.

That said, I also think it’s kind of a mess. Though the boys’ inner society is decently fleshed out, what I’m really missing here is a sense of context. I get what they’re doing, but I don’t get why. They’re rebelling against a world we never really see, and as a result, we can’t understand who these boys are. Where do they come from? What’s sickened them so much about the grownup world? And what kind of society do they live in where they can carry on with heinous crimes like kidnapping, mutilation, and murder without anyone even noticing?

There’s a lot here I can take on faith as a reader. I don’t need to know how they built a monster that runs on lychee fruit, for instance. It’s incredible, but well within what I’m willing to accept as premise. But the lack of context for the boys’ self-made way of life keeps me from being able to embrace Furuya’s universe fully, and that’s enough to keep the story from becoming truly engaging.

There are a lot of things that could be said here, too, about the manga’s extreme violence and treatment of women–issues that have been covered quite beautifully already by Kate and David. Overall, though, my biggest personal obstacle with this story was its lack of context for the boys’ actions. Without that, I found it difficult to commit as a reader.

MICHELLE: Believe it or not, this actually reassures me that I will find something to like about it! I haven’t read it yet, and therefore haven’t read Kate and David’s piece, but just the premise alone made me a little wary. I can deal with a few flaws if I get something stunning out of the deal!

MJ: I hope that you will find something to like about it. I certainly did. And I’m quite interested now in reading more of Furuya’s work.

Well, wow, talk about swift, nine-thirty and we’re already done? Whatever will we do with ourselves?

MICHELLE: My sink is full of dirty dishes, so it seems my fate is predetermined.

MJ: Well, that’s depressing. Godspeed?

MICHELLE: Well, I have got a dishwasher, at least.

MJ: My pity has turned to sheer envy.

MICHELLE: You poor soul.

MJ: *snif*

The Josei Alphabet: Q

by

“Q” is for…

… not very much at all, but there is one title that sounds potentially awesome.

QB Karin – Keishichou Tokushu SP-ban, written and illustrated by Yuriko Nishiyama, currently serialized in Kodansha’s Kiss. A female police inspector leads an elite squad of hunks tasked with protecting very important female persons. Nishiyama also created the well-liked Dragon Voice and long-running street basketball saga Harlem Beat, both of which were partially published by Tokyopop. (The fate of Dragon Voice was particularly cruel, as it stopped just one volume short of completion.) In other words, Nishiyama has suffered from what Kate Dacey might call the Ai Morinaga Syndrome. She could use some luck, and perhaps this enticing-sounding mash-up could be the solution. Here’s the Kiss site for the series.

What starts with “Q” in your josei alphabet?

 

A Bride’s Story, Vol. 1

by

For nearly 3,000 years, the Silk Road connected Asia with Africa and the Middle East, providing a conduit for the ancient world’s most precious commodities: silk, spices, glassware, medicine, perfume, livestock. By the nineteenth century, when A Bride’s Story takes place, the overland trade routes had been eclipsed in importance by maritime ones that linked China directly with India, Somalia, and the Mediterranean. Yet the Silk Road continued to play a vital role in bridging smaller geographical divides, as the main plot in A Bride’s Story demonstrates.

Set in Central Asia, A Bride’s Story focuses on two clans: the Halgal, a nomadic tribe whose livelihood depends on a mixture of hunting and herding, and the Eihon, farmers with a permanent homestead near the Caspian Sea. The families arrange a marriage between twenty-year-old Amir, the oldest Halgal daughter, and twelve-year-old Karluk, the future Eihon patriarch. As that age gap implies, Amir and Karluk’s union is one of political and economic expedience, designed to help the Eihon clan preserve its territory. Each family has reservations about the match: the Eihon believe that Amir is too old to bear Karluk a good-sized family, while the Halgal want to dissolve the union and betroth Amir to the leader of a neighboring tribe.

Amir and Karluk, however, seem more content with the arrangement than their elders. Given their age gap, Amir is more mother than wife to Karluk. There’s a note of urgency and purpose in Amir’s ministrations — she’s keen to prove her worth to the Eihons, especially when Karluk falls ill — but there’s also a genuine warmth and kindness in her gestures. Karluk, for his part, seems very much like a young teenager, intrigued by Amir’s beauty and charisma, but still too uncomfortable in his own skin to be physically demonstrative with her; Amir seems much keener to consummate their marriage, lest she lose her standing with the Eihon clan.

One of the great pleasures of A Bride’s Story is its strong cast of female characters. Balkirsh, the Eihon matriarch, proves Amir’s staunchest ally, fiercely rebuffing the Halgal’s efforts to reclaim Amir with a well-placed arrow. Though Balkirsh never explicitly states why she identifies with her daughter-in-law, the bow-and-arrow scene is telling, hinting at a shared cultural heritage that binds the two women. Amir, too, is a memorable character; she’s a terrific physical specimen, agile and fearless on horseback, but her true strength is her keen emotional intelligence. She accepts her new marriage without complaint, rapidly insinuating herself into the Eihon clan while preserving her own sense of self by introducing Karluk to her family’s customs.

The artwork, too, is another compelling reason to read A Bride’s Story. As she did in Emma and Shirley, Kaoru Mori pours her energy into period detail: clothing, furnishings, architecture. By far her most striking designs are the tribal costumes worn by the Eihon and the Halgal. Mori painstakingly draws embroidery, ornaments, and layers of fabric; watching Amir mount her horse, one can almost hear the swish of her skirts and the jingle of her earrings. Mori is similarly meticulous when rendering the surfaces of common household objects; she etches an intricate floral design into a silver tea set and weaves elegant, delicate patterns into the rugs that grace the walls and floors of the Eihon compound, luxuriating in the artistry with which these items were made.

At the same time, however, the Central Asian setting grants Mori greater license to make her characters move — something she rarely did in the overstuffed parlors  and crowded London streets in Emma and Shirley. To be sure, Mori’s flair for staging dynamic scenes was evident in Emma, when Hakim Atawari made a show-stopping entrance astride an elephant. In A Bride’s Story, however, Mori’s active sequences are less flashy and more fluid; they feel less like dramatic stunts than an organic part of the story, helping the reader understand how physically taxing Amir and Karluk’s labors are while helping us appreciate the scale and severity of the landscape.

Perhaps the most striking aspect of volume one is just how uneventful it is. Kaoru Mori is content to let her narrative follow the rhythms of everyday life, pausing to show us a master carver in his wood shop, or a group of women cooking a meal, or a young boy tending chickens. Yet A Bride’s Story is never dull, thanks to Mori’s smart, engaging dialogue; as she demonstrated in Emma and Shirley, Mori can make even the simplest moments revealing, whether her characters are preparing a manor house for the master’s return or discussing the merits of rabbit stew. By allowing her story to unfold in such a naturalistic fashion, A Bride’s Story manages to be both intimate and expansive, giving us a taste of what it might have been like to live along the Silk Road in the nineteenth century. Highly recommended.

A BRIDE’S STORY, VOL. 1 • BY KAORU MORI • YEN PRESS • 192 pp. • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+)

A Bride’s Story, Vol. 1

by 29 Comments

For nearly 3,000 years, the Silk Road connected Asia with Africa and the Middle East, providing a conduit for the ancient world’s most precious commodities: silk, spices, glassware, medicine, perfume, livestock. By the nineteenth century, when A Bride’s Story takes place, the overland trade routes had been eclipsed in importance by maritime ones that linked China directly with India, Somalia, and the Mediterranean. Yet the Silk Road continued to play a vital role in bridging smaller geographical divides, as the main plot in A Bride’s Story demonstrates.

Set in Central Asia, A Bride’s Story focuses on two clans: the Halgal, a nomadic tribe whose livelihood depends on a mixture of hunting and herding, and the Eihon, farmers with a permanent homestead near the Caspian Sea. The families arrange a marriage between twenty-year-old Amir, the oldest Halgal daughter, and twelve-year-old Karluk, the future Eihon patriarch. As that age gap implies, Amir and Karluk’s union is one of political and economic expedience, designed to help the Eihon clan preserve its territory. Each family has reservations about the match: the Eihon believe that Amir is too old to bear Karluk a good-sized family, while the Halgal want to dissolve the union and betroth Amir to the leader of a neighboring tribe.

Amir and Karluk, however, seem more content with the arrangement than their elders. Given their age gap, Amir is more mother than wife to Karluk. There’s a note of urgency and purpose in Amir’s ministrations — she’s keen to prove her worth to the Eihons, especially when Karluk falls ill — but there’s also a genuine warmth and kindness in her gestures. Karluk, for his part, seems very much like a young teenager, intrigued by Amir’s beauty and charisma, but still too uncomfortable in his own skin to be physically demonstrative with her; Amir seems much keener to consummate their marriage, lest she lose her standing with the Eihon clan.

One of the great pleasures of A Bride’s Story is its strong cast of female characters. Balkirsh, the Eihon matriarch, proves Amir’s staunchest ally, fiercely rebuffing the Halgal’s efforts to reclaim Amir with a well-placed arrow. Though Balkirsh never explicitly states why she identifies with her daughter-in-law, the bow-and-arrow scene is telling, hinting at a shared cultural heritage that binds the two women. Amir, too, is a memorable character; she’s a terrific physical specimen, agile and fearless on horseback, but her true strength is her keen emotional intelligence. She accepts her new marriage without complaint, rapidly insinuating herself into the Eihon clan while preserving her own sense of self by introducing Karluk to her family’s customs.

The artwork, too, is another compelling reason to read A Bride’s Story. As she did in Emma and Shirley, Kaoru Mori pours her energy into period detail: clothing, furnishings, architecture. By far her most striking designs are the tribal costumes worn by the Eihon and the Halgal. Mori painstakingly draws embroidery, ornaments, and layers of fabric; watching Amir mount her horse, one can almost hear the swish of her skirts and the jingle of her earrings. Mori is similarly meticulous when rendering the surfaces of common household objects; she etches an intricate floral design into a silver tea set and weaves elegant, delicate patterns into the rugs that grace the walls and floors of the Eihon compound, luxuriating in the artistry with which these items were made.

At the same time, however, the Central Asian setting grants Mori greater license to make her characters move — something she rarely did in the overstuffed parlors  and crowded London streets in Emma and Shirley. To be sure, Mori’s flair for staging dynamic scenes was evident in Emma, when Hakim Atawari made a show-stopping entrance astride an elephant. In A Bride’s Story, however, Mori’s active sequences are less flashy and more fluid; they feel less like dramatic stunts than an organic part of the story, helping the reader understand how physically taxing Amir and Karluk’s labors are while helping us appreciate the scale and severity of the landscape.

Perhaps the most striking aspect of volume one is just how uneventful it is. Kaoru Mori is content to let her narrative follow the rhythms of everyday life, pausing to show us a master carver in his wood shop, or a group of women cooking a meal, or a young boy tending chickens. Yet A Bride’s Story is never dull, thanks to Mori’s smart, engaging dialogue; as she demonstrated in Emma and Shirley, Mori can make even the simplest moments revealing, whether her characters are preparing a manor house for the master’s return or discussing the merits of rabbit stew. By allowing her story to unfold in such a naturalistic fashion, A Bride’s Story manages to be both intimate and expansive, giving us a taste of what it might have been like to live along the Silk Road in the nineteenth century. Highly recommended.

A BRIDE’S STORY, VOL. 1 • BY KAORU MORI • YEN PRESS • 192 pp. • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+)

Full House 1-4 by Sooyeon Won

by

There’s certainly plenty of precedent for romantic comedies in which a feisty, average girl exchanges snarky banter with a rich and handsome fellow (to whom she is often secretly attracted even while deeming him odious). It may just be a licensing fluke, but it seems that a large portion of the sunjeong manhwa that I’ve read (Very! Very! Sweet, Sugarholic, Goong: The Royal Palace, There’s Something About Sunyool) also follows this formula. Now, I can add Sooyeon Won’s Full House to that list.

Ellie Ji is a Korean living alone in the UK after the deaths of her parents. Although her family relocated while Ellie was in primary school, she still doesn’t feel quite at home in England, so the lovely house her architect father built and left to her is an important refuge. One morning, she is unceremoniously ousted by emissaries of Ryder Baye, a famous actor, who claim that he is now the owner of the home, known as Full House. Hot-tempered Ellie vows to get the house back, no matter what it takes, and when Ryder hits her with his car, the perfect opportunity arises.

Ellie demands Ryder hand over Full House as compensation for her injuries, but he’s not having that, and thus they embark upon the first of what will be many, many, many arguments. Finally, Ellie declares, “I’ll even marry you, if that’ll do the trick!!” Ryder is far from enthused (“How could you say such a thing, when the very idea of wedding you is so horrific?! It’s beyond absurd, and even more disgusting than vomit and foot odor!”) but his manager, Miranda, likes the idea because it’ll help quash some nasty rumors that Ryder is gay. Eventually, everyone ends up agreeing to the arrangement.

So, once Ellie is discharged from the hospital, she and Ryder officially announce their engagement and move into Full House, with Ryder occupying the first floor and Ellie the second. Whereupon they proceed to have the rest of those many, many, many arguments I mentioned earlier. Ellie can be hyper-defensive and obnoxious, while Ryder is somewhat more sympathetic but yet unable to say what needs to be said to defuse a hostile situation. Sometimes they almost seem to get along, then something happens to derail that. Seriously, I can’t even list all the things they find to get up in arms about, because it’s kind of ridiculous and, more importantly, absolutely wearing upon the reader. Probably the worst moment is when Ryder offers to introduce Ellie, an aspiring screenwriter, to a director and she scathingly retorts, “I’m so grateful I’m about to break into tears! Should I bow down and kiss your feet to show my appreciation?”

The characters do and say things that make one want to shake them, like Ellie’s reluctance to just tell Ryder that her dad built that house and that she’d been living in it. They’d also rather let misunderstandings and misconceptions of their motives persist than deign to provide an exonerating explanation for their behavior. Sometimes this kind of dynamic can work for me in a couple—I actually like all those series I mentioned above—but here, I just really found it maddening. They’re bound and determined to be nasty to each other, even though they both surely realize there’s something good about their influence on each other. For Ryder, Ellie serves as a “stimulant,” when compared with all the other docile fangirls who throw themselves upon him. For Ellie, Ryder’s insistence upon public appearances awakens her potential as a stunning beauty and helps the once uncouth girl develop genuine poise.

Beyond its aggravating central relationship, Full House has some other odd quirks. As demonstrated by the quotes above, the dialogue is often over-the-top and laughable. (Felix, Ellie’s former beau, on learning of her engagement: “I couldn’t fall asleep from being so overwhelmed and busy sobbing.”) There are some grammatical errors, as well. On the plus side, some effort is made to make the speech sound British, with a scattering of “bloke”s and “bloody wanker”s peppering the script. Plotting is also similarly melodramatic. For example, volume four concludes with the sudden revelation that Ryder has a brain tumor and only three to five months to live. Dun dun dun!

Despite my gripes, I actually don’t hate Full House at all. I do marvel, though, that there are sixteen volumes in this series, plus a five-volume sequel. Are they all like this? I positively long for these two to have a civil conversation, and perhaps they will do, if the events of the first chapter of volume five (the only portion of that volume currently available on the NETCOMICS website) are any indication.

And now I’ve just realized that my opinion toward this series—it drives me crazy, but I can’t seem to leave it alone—is exactly what’s going on between its two leads. So, perhaps what I really ought to be saying is “Well done, Miss Won?”

Full House was originally published in English by the now-defunct CPM, but only the first four volumes—out of a total of sixteen—were released. The series is being released on the NETCOMICS website with a new translation, though the last update (the first chapter of volume five) was just over three months ago. No print editions have yet been produced.

Review copies provided by the publisher.

Breaking Down Banana Fish, Final

by , , , , and 25 Comments

Welcome again, and for the very last time, to our roundtable, Breaking Down Banana Fish!

We greet you this month with our final installment, covering volumes seventeen through nineteen of this epic series, as well as two side stories (“Angel Eyes” and “Garden of Light”) which are included in the final volume of the English-language edition of the manga. It’s hard to believe we’ve finally come to the end!

I’m joined again in this round by Michelle Smith (Soliloquy in Blue), Khursten Santos (Otaku Champloo), Connie C. (Slightly Biased Manga), Eva Volin (Good Comics For Kids), and Robin Brenner (No Flying, No Tights).

Just a note before we begin, this final edition of “Breaking Down Banana Fish” contains in-depth discussion of the series’ final chapters, including the outcome of the all series’ main conflicts and the fates of its characters. Obviously this means spoilers, so if you’re new to the series we recommend you begin reading along with the discussions listed below.

Read our roundtable on volumes one and two here, volumes three and four here, volumes five and six here, volumes seven and eight here, volumes nine and ten here, volumes eleven through thirteen here, and volumes fourteen through sixteen here. On to roundtable eight!

…

Read More

A Bride's Story Volume 1

by

I think it is nice that Kaoru Mori’s manga inspires special treatment. The editions of Emma from CMX featured matte paper stock that gave the volumes an old timey feel. A Bride’s Story gets the deluxe treatment from Yen Press, with the first volume arriving as an over sized hardback with a lovely wraparound illustration on the dust jacket. The painstaking research, sympathetic characters, and lovely detailed illustrations that readers enjoyed in Emma are in full effect in A Bride’s Story, with the bonus of a heroine who enjoys hunting rabbits from horseback with a bow.

The story takes place along the Silk Road in the 19th century. Amir is twenty years old, and she’s sent to marry a twelve year old boy named Karluk. Amir comes from a more nomadic tribe than Karluk’s family, with the result that she brings with her some skills that her new family hasn’t possessed in awhile. Amir seems anxious to fit into her new place, trying to be helpful whenever possible and she seems to be waiting for her new husband to grow up. Evidently twenty years is an unforgivably old age for a bride, and the backstory behind the marriage isn’t shown. Karluk is an uncommonly calm twelve year old, who seems to take his responsibilities very seriously. He jumps at the chance to try to locate his uncle’s clan of shepherds, wanting to be reintroduced to his relatives as a married man.

I’d always thought that Mori’s slice of life stories are particularly good at portraying children and how they negotiate the world. Rostam, the youngest member of the household, becomes fascinated with the local woodcarver and he neglects his chores to observe him. This gives Mori the excuse to showcase some dazzling panels of woodcarving patters, as well as showing the reactions of Rostam’s family. His mother sends him to bed without dinner, then tasks Amir with sneaking him food later. When it is clear that this is a general pattern of Rostam getting punishments that his mother immediately regrets, Amir declines to participate. She’s nervous and wants to please her new family, but when they start discussing rabbit stew she seizes the opportunity to grab her bow (part of her dowry) and race off on her horse to hunt.

A Bride’s Story would be plenty entertaining if it just showcased Mori’s research and charming illustrations, but she decides to introduce a note of suspense when it seems like Amir’s family has started to regret sending her off to marry Karluck. Amir gets an unexpected ally when the matriarch of the family (an enjoyable example of the kick-ass grandma character that often appears in manga) decides to defend the new bride. Karluck’s grandmother received a bow with her dowry too! With publishers going out of business and series going out of print or left unfinished, I’ve been feeling a little less enthused about manga lately. Reading A Bride’s Story has reminded me about the possibilities for storytelling unique to manga, and I’m happy to find a great new series to read.

Pick of the Week: A Bride’s Story & Others

by , , and 8 Comments

New manga from Kaoru Mori (unsurprisingly) steals the show at Midtown Comics this week, but check out our recommendations for additional picks as well!

KATE: A new Kaoru Mori manga is always cause for celebration, so I’m getting this week’s party started by recommending A Bride’s Story, which debuts on Wednesday. Like Emma and Shirley,A Bride’s Story is as much about the historical period — its customs, its social hierarchies, its clothing — as it about the characters. In this case, the setting is the Silk Road in the nineteenth century, and the characters are Amir, a twenty-year-oldwoman, and Karluk, her twelve-year-old husband. Their union is one of political expedience, but their growing respect for one another suggests that their marriage has the potential to evolve. Not a whole lot happens in the first volume, but the artwork is lovely, and the gently meandering storylines allow us to see just how capable and complex Amir really is. I’m already pining for volume two!

MICHELLE: I’m keen to read A Bride’s Story myself, but my pick this week goes to the second volume of Natsume Ando’s Arisa, back from a long hiatus as publishing rights shifted from Del Rey to Kodansha Comics. Volume one served up delicious shoujo creepiness as a tough girl named Tsubasa disguised herself as her more refined twin to figure out what in her school life caused her to attempt suicide, and ended just as she was on the verge of discovering the identity of “the King,” a mysterious person with the ability to grant any wish. Not only is the series back, it’s also on a bimonthly schedule from this point on.

DAVID: I’m going to have to second Kate’s pick of A Bride’s Story. I’m such a fan of Mori’s Emma that it would seem treasonous to do otherwise. (Though I’m also very much looking forward to Arisa.)

MJ: You can add me to the list of Manga Bookshelf-ers eagerly anticipating A Bride’s Story, but I’ll also take this opportunity to give a shout-out to one of my favorite shoujo series, Peach Pit’s Shugo Chara!. Kodansha Comics brings out volume 10 this week, following its long run with Del Rey Manga, and I can’t wait to pick it up! I’ve written a lot about this series (including a heartfelt plea for lowering its age rating) much of which can be accessed via my Shugo Chara! Evangelism post. After all that, can I pass up the chance to recommend it one more time? I think not!

Amazon.com Widgets

Readers, what looks good to you this week?