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License request day: Crazy for You

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This week’s license request comes courtesy of Michelle (Soliloquy in Blue) Smith, frequent and always welcome Manga Bookshelf contributor.

Whenever I ponder license requests, in addition to a few classics that always make the list, I’m often drawing upon creators whose current work I enjoy. Sometimes this strategy backfires—neither Portrait of M & N nor Tsubasa: Those with Wings was as good as their creators’ more famous series—but still I persist. And that is why I would love to see Crazy for You (an earlier series by Karuho Shiina, the mangaka behind Kimi ni Todoke: From Me to You) licensed for US release.

I first read about Crazy for You (complete in six volumes) on Emily’s Random Shoujo Manga Page, which is rich with license request fodder. Here’s some of what she had to say about it:

This story revolves around the tangled relationships between a group of five friends. The focus is on a a cute, naive girl named Sachi (or “Sa-chan”). Sachi is silly and innocent and friendly. She had a very “genuine” personality. What you see is what you get. Sachi doesn’t have a boyfriend, but would like one (going to an all-girls school makes finding a boyfriend difficult), so when she is asked if she would like to go to a “goukon” (a group date) she jumps at the chance. At the goukon, Sachi meets a lively and cute boy named Yuki. Sachi falls for Yuki at first sight, and they get along very well. They both have energetic personalities. Yuki thinks Sachi is cute, and seems to really like her.

Every day, Sachi finds herself falling more and more for Yuki, and her affection is very obvious to everyone around her, including Yuki. However, while Yuki does like her, there is some sort of barrier between them. Yuki is holds himself back and will only see Sachi as a friend. When a secret from Yuki’s past comes to light, and a relationship is revealed, the group of friends is thrown into turmoil. Bonds are strained or broken, betrayal is felt, and everyone must re-evaluate how they feel about each other.

Cute romance is all well and good, but cute romance coupled with secrets and turmoil? Sign me up!

Surprisingly, this appears to be one series the French don’t have yet, but the Germans do. In fact, their editions have a very familiar logo on the spine! Within about three hours of making this discovery, a German set of these books was on their way to me (Google Translate, here I come!) but I’d still much rather have a set in English.

So, how about it, VIZ?

(Guest license requests are always welcome.)

 

BL Bookrack: May

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Welcome to the May installment of BL Bookrack, a monthly feature co-written with Soliloquy in Blue‘s Michelle Smith.

This month, we take a look at three offerings from Digital Manga Publishing’s Juné imprint, The Color of Love, That Was Good, and Your Story I’ve Known, as well as a rare offering from Yen Press, volume two of Tale of the Waning Moon.

The Color of Love | By Kiyo Ueda | Published by Juné | Rated Mature (18+) | Buy at Akadot – Although we generally review new releases for these BL Bookrack columns, I wanted to take the opportunity to check out The Color of Love (released in 2008), as it is among several DMP works recently pulled from Amazon for violating their content requirements. After reading the book, it is hard to see why it was targeted, when much more explicit BL—Under Grand Hotel, anyone?—is still available for purchase.

Like many BL releases, The Color of Love is a collection of short stories. Most of them, including the title story, feature pairs of friends who are in love with each other but concerned about what this will mean for their friendship. In “The Color of Love,” Nao is worried that his best friend Taira might learn about his “wicked thoughts,” and so helps a classmate cover up her romance with a teacher by posing as her boyfriend. Taira is demonstrably jealous, and a confession ensues.

In “The Ideal Love,” a recent college graduate with a particular type gradually realizes that his former classmate might just be the perfect match. In “How to Be Happy,” Kouta can’t quite believe that his best friend, Kazuyuki, has confessed his love since Kazuyuki rejected him back in high school. In “Mix,” Yoshino can’t reconcile Yamazaki his best friend with Yamazaki his boyfriend, so removes his glasses during intimate moments to make his partner look like a blurry stranger. In “Friendship Formula,” Nitta attempts to cheer up a jilted (straight) classmate by confessing his own feelings. The one exception to this theme is “Direction of a Smile,” depicting a romance between a hotel front desk manager and a bellboy.

In all of these stories, the characters involved care about each other very much. Are they depicted in the act of sex? Well, yes, but it’s generally only a panel or two showing bodies locked together lovingly. The Color of Love is no more explicit than your average BL manga and actually far less explicit than many. I suspect that whoever filed the complaint didn’t get past the first page, which, admittedly, devotes its first couple of panels to Nao enjoying a private moment whilst indulging in those “wicked thoughts” of his. This might give an undeserved impression of overall smuttiness.

So, don’t let Amazon’s actions fool you. In reality, The Color of Love is far more nice than naughty.

-Review by Michelle Smith

Tale of the Waning Moon | By Hyouta Fujiyama | Published by Yen Press | Rated Mature (18+) | Buy at Amazon – Memory is a funny thing. When the second volume of Houta Fujiyama’s Tale of the Waning Moon arrived at my doorstep, my first reaction was “ugh.” I’d remembered clearly reviewing the first volume, at which time I’d declared it, “…unrealistic, essentially plotless, outrageously fluffy” and most emphatically, “Not My Kind of Yaoi.” What I apparently forgot between then and now, however, is that I also called it “energetic,” and “genuinely funny,” qualities I’m unfortunately having difficulty attributing to the series’ second volume.

Though this manga first won me over with its simultaneous satire of common BL tropes and RPG-style questing, Fujiyama’s sly humor doesn’t wear all that well. The questing in particular has begun to lose its luster, as the characters are sent out on a seemingly endless journey to acquire a series of objects required to get our hero, Ryuka, to his celestial destination, and what once read as sharp humor now resembles too closely the very things it strives to lampoon.

The same can be said for the series’ campy, everyone-is-gay landscape, which risks outright earnestness in this volume—a trait that should never be blended with scantily-clad cat boys. And were jokes about constipation ever funny? Perhaps I missed the memo.

That said, there’s a consistent sense here that the comic is in good hands. Even at her worst, Fujiyama writes smoothly and confidently, stringing us along with the promise of better things.

Will she make good on that promise in volume three? We live in hope.

-Review by MJ

That Was Good | By CJ Michalski | Published by Juné | Rated Mature (18+) | Buy at Akadot – When I go into a BL anthology, I’m always expecting the worst. Questionable plot, shoddy characterization, outrageously rushed romance—these things are standard in any romance anthology. It’s almost guaranteed. Also common in this type of BL is humor so broad it borders on homophobia. Oh, and don’t forget: lots and lots of smut.

That Was Good has everything I just described and more. Its three stories each feature a previously heterosexual, dashing hunk who falls for a (questionably heterosexual) boyish beauty whom he forces into sex, but it’s okay ’cause HE’S IN LOVE. Other special features here include grown men making jokes about eating sausage to a toddler who catches them in bed, and vampire/elf cosplay, though I’ll admit the latter offers up the only genuine bit of humor in the entire book. Skip to the cosplay, people, just skip to the cosplay.

If I sound a bit sarcastic and jaded… okay, yeah, I’m feeling slightly bitter over having read the whole thing. Thing is, it was listed as an anthology, so I should have known better.

Michalski’s straightforward artwork is more crisp than expressive, though she at least depicts sex more deftly than some. This can’t save the book by any means, but it’s perhaps enough reason to read for the porn. Overall, however, the title is sadly ironic. That Was Good is one to miss.

-Review by MJ

Your Story I’ve Known | By Tsuta Suzuki | Published by Juné | Rated YA (16+) | Buy at Akadot – Although I’d stop short of calling myself an outright fan of Tsuta Suzuki’s series, A Strange and Mystifying Story—sexual healing as administered by guardian beast isn’t really my thing—it is nonetheless memorable, and I’ve been looking forward to reading Your Story I’ve Known ever since the license was announced.

There aren’t any supernatural elements in these stories, which I consider a good thing. The first three stories, including the title piece, depict the relationship between Hart Matsumoto, a dim-witted but handsome boy with an abusive mother, and a yakuza named Shibuzawa, who was the kindest of his mother’s many boyfriends. Shibuzawa provides a safe place for Hart to go when his mother turns violent and continues to look after him into young adulthood.

Although he’s aware of Hart’s feelings for him, Shibuzawa maintains a policy of gentle discouragement until Hart’s mother is killed. Somehow, Shibuzawa ends up in bed with Hart—as consolation, perhaps? Giving the boy what he’s always wanted while withholding the upsetting news? Shibuzawa’s motivations here are quite complex, and it’s a shame that the story of his relationship with Hart wraps up quickly thereafter.

A similar problem plagues the next story in the collection, “Sautéed Onions,” a mostly forgettable story of two friends who’ve recently become a couple and are feeling insecure about the other’s feelings. It’s not bad, but it’s so short that there’s no chance whatsoever to get to know either of the characters. “As Long As You Can Hear Me,” about a fight-prone kid and the samurai ghost who protects him, fares somewhat better.

The real gem of the collection is the final story, “Without the Gods Seeing.” When Narasaki was in high school, he reacted harshly to a friend’s confession of love, and in the intervening ten years, has come to regret that he responded the way he did. When Wakakki, a handsome coworker, makes his own confession, Narasaki reacts more thoughtfully, taking the time to talk to Wakakki about his feelings and gaining new perspective on how much bravery is required to make such an admission to a friend.

It’s a really sweet story and Suzuki makes good use of her pages, painting Narasaki’s and Wakakki’s characters in quick strokes that define their personalities reasonably well. I absolutely love, for example, that it was Narasaki’s habit of feeding neighborhood kitties on his lunch break that caught Wakakki’s eye in the first place.

While a couple of the stories are disappointingly brief, on the whole this is an enjoyable collection, complemented by Suzuki’s unique artistic style. I’m not sure whether devotees of A Strange and Mystifying Story would find it to their liking, since it is quite different, but I’d personally rate it the better of the two.

-Review by Michelle Smith

Review copies provided by the publisher.

Making 2011 Eisner book

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There’s just under a month left for eligible voters to cast their ballots for the 2011 Will Eisner Comic Industry Awards, so I thought I’d take another stab at evaluating the odds of this year’s nominees in the Best U.S. Edition of International Material – Asia. First, here’s a list of winners in this category from the last few years:

  • 2010: A Drifting Life, written and illustrated by Yoshihiro Tatsumi, Drawn & Quarterly
  • 2009: Dororo, written and illustrated by Osamu Tezuka, Vertical
  • 2008: Tekkonkinkreet, written and illustrated by Taiyo Matsumoto, Viz
  • 2007: Old Boy, written by Garon Tsuchiya and illustrated by Nobuaki Minegishi, Dark Horse

And here are some manga titles that have won the Best U.S. of International Material before it split into two categories:

  • 2005: Buddha, written and illustrated by Tezuka, Vertical
  • 2004: Buddha
  • 2002: Akira, written and illustrated by Katsuhiro Otomo, Dark Horse
  • 2001: Lone Wolf and Cub, written by Kazuo Koike and illustrated by Goseki Kojima, Dark Horse
  • 2000: Blade of the Immortal, written and illustrated by Hiroaki Samura, Dark Horse
  • 1998: Gon Swimmin’, written and illustrated by Masashi Tanaka, Paradox Press

The last three years indicate a leaning towards stand-alone or shorter series, but looking at the history of the category shows that lengthy, sprawling series aren’t necessarily at a disadvantage. Voters have a perfectly understandable appreciation of the work of Tezuka. Given that all of the honored comics are by men and were originally published in magazines that targeted a male demographic, one might also indicate a certain leaning in that direction. One can also detect a leaning toward series that have loyal readerships in comic shops. It seems less true in recent years, perhaps partly because of a seeming contraction of manga sales in those venues.

Now, on to this year’s contenders:

Ayako, written and illustrated by Tezuka, Vertical: If we add the fondness for Tezuka with the recent leaning toward done-in-one titles, we would be very foolish indeed to discount the odds on Ayako. That said I don’t consider it one of Tezuka’s best works. I found it too bleak and too literal, but bleakness and literalism has never discouraged Eisner voters in the past, and the automatic (and deserved) prestige of a Tezuka title is considerable. Even voters who don’t read any comics from Asia likely know who Tezuka is, and name recognition is sometimes the voter’s best friend. Odds: 2 to 1.

Bunny Drop, written and illustrated by Yumi Unita, Yen Press: Marvelous as it is to see a josei title garner a nomination, I think the outcome here will be that it’s an honor just to be nominated. That’s in no way a qualitative evaluation of Bunny Drop, which is easily one of my favorite ongoing series currently in release. I just doubt that it has much of a crossover audience between readers who primarily enjoy comics from Japan or Asia and the Eisner voting pool at large. If the nomination has encouraged more people to read the series, then that’s as good as a win, in my opinion. Odds: 25 to 1.

A Drunken Dream and Other Stories, written and illustrated by Moto Hagio, Fantagraphics: Ask a pool of manga pundits which mangaka suffers most from a shortage of work in translation, and I would wager that Hagio would be very close to the top of the list that emerges from that discussion. Like Tezuka, I think there’s a general level of awareness of and reverence for Hagio, even among people who may not have read her work. She’s a quality brand, in other words, and that standing has a certain force. Fantagraphics is also a quality brand, even among people who don’t read much that they produce, so an endorsement of Hagio in the form of publishing a handsome collection of her work, combined with Hagio’s own qualities as a creator and her well-received 2010 visit to the home convention of the Eisners may well work in her favor. Odds: 5 to 1.

House of Five Leaves, written and illustrated by Natsume Ono, Viz: I’m never quite sure how much my assessment of Ono as an emerging presence among the comic cognoscenti is accurate and how much is an experiment in the power of positive thinking, but I’m very pleased to see her nominated in this category, even if I don’t think she’ll win. House of Five Leaves is one of those titles that are intriguing at their beginnings but really gain in strength and force as they go along. If a voter was basing his or her choice on the first volume, I don’t know how that sampling would hold up against the other nominees. It’s not a flashy or immediately arresting series, lovely as it is. As noted above, ongoing series shouldn’t be discounted, but ongoing series that rely on cumulative artistic effect may not fare as well. Odds: 20 to 1.

20th Century Boys, written and illustrated by Naoki Urasawa, Viz: Urasawa has three nominations this year (the others being in the Writer/Artist category and Best Ongoing Series for this title), which is about standard for him since Viz started releasing his work through its Signature imprint. He has yet to win. Perhaps the multiple nominations split the sentiment in his favor. Perhaps voters don’t like his work as much as nominating committees do. Given the sheer volume of nominations he’s received over the last five years or so, he should clearly have cemented standing as a quality brand by now, and his smart thrillers are as comic-shop friendly as anything in this year’s slate. I personally like 20th Century Boys best of any of Urasawa’s licensed works, so I would have no objection whatsoever to its winning. History suggests to me that it probably won’t. Odds: 10 to 1.

What do you think? If you could vote, which title would you choose? (In my perfect world, A Drunken Dream and Other Stories and Bunny Drop would tie.)

 

Ginga Legend Weed, Vol. 1

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As a critic, I tend to focus on how stories are told, rather than how they make me feel. Much as I’d like to chalk up that tendency to rigorous academic training or a Vulcan-like disposition, I’m afraid the underlying reason is much simpler and less flattering: I’m a snob.

I should qualify that statement by saying that I’m not really a snob, but I’ve spent enough time in the Ivory Tower to know that I’m supposed to appreciate the difference between Great Art and commercial crap, between penetrating explorations of the human condition and cheap sentiment. Crying while watching Sansho the Bailiff? Perfectly OK — it’s a Criterion film based on a critically regarded novel! Crying while watching Marley & Me? Intellectually suspect — it’s a mawkish paean to dog ownership, and an obvious play for the audience’s sympathy!

Except I’m more likely to weep buckets while watching Marley & Me.

OK, that’s only partially true. I cried harder during the final reel of Marley & Me than I did during the final reel of Sansho the Bailiff, though both left me devastated. But you grasp the point: Sansho the Bailiff may be a deep, moving statement about cruelty, sacrifice, and loyalty, but on an autonomic level, Zushio and Anju’s plight can’t hold a candle to a pooch in peril.

Which leads me to Ginga Legend Weed. The story is, in fact, a sequel to Ginga: Nagareboshi Gin, an eighteen-volume manga about an Akita who abandons his human master, joins a pack of feral dogs, and wrests control of the Ōu Mountains from a powerful, demonic bear nicknamed “Red Helmet.” Ginga Legend Weed picks up the thread several years after Akakabuto’s defeat: Gin’s mate, Sakura, has given birth to a pup, but is unable to raise him. On her deathbed, she implores an English Setter named GB to bring Weed to his father, thus initiating the first of many battle arcs that will pit Weed against a genetically altered dog, a vicious baboon troupe, a dog army led by an evil German Shepherd named Victor, and a “large hybrid bear.” (Actually, I have no idea what a “large hybrid bear” is, though it certainly sounds dangerous and impressive. Thanks, Wikipedia!)

As a well-trained product of a fancy-pants university, I can say with confidence that Ginga Legend Weed suffers from a host of structural problems. The pacing is uneven; the action sequences are repetitive, recycling the same attacks again and again; and the script is both tin-eared and thoroughly sentimental, ascribing a full complement of human emotions and motivations to its canine characters. Were I to judge Ginga purely on the quality of its execution, I’d have to proclaim it a mediocre specialty product calculated to appeal to a particular audience, the kind of readers who aren’t likely to roll their eyes dismissively when a puppy cries out for his mommy. Readers like… well, me.

Trading my critic’s cap for a dog lover’s,  I can see the obvious skill behind Yoshihiro Takahashi’s drawings; he’s spent many hours observing canine body language and facial expressions, and uses flattened ears, tucked tails, and raised hackles to show the full extent of his characters’ emotional states. Takahashi is also a student of canine social behavior. His dog societies may use human terms to describe each member’s rank — general, captain, and so forth — but Takahashi clearly grasps pack dynamics; canine power struggles frequently drive the plot, as dogs vie for alpha status and bully weaker members of the group.

What Ginga Legend Weed does most powerfully, however, is take the core values of a Shonen Jump manga — “friendship, effort, victory” — and apply them to a story about a young dog trying to find his place in the world. Weed’s unswerving commitment to his friends, his willingness to risk his life for others, and his ability to rally dogs to his cause are, perhaps, a bit absurd — he’s Naruto in quadriped form — but his efforts remind us that dogs are emotionally complex, intelligent creatures capable of forming deep attachments. For an animal lover like me, Ginga affirms the warm, affectionate bond I have with my own dog while stoking my indignation that many human-canine relationships are fraught with violence and neglect. (Many of the characters have been abandoned or abused by their human masters.) That may not have been Takahashi’s intended message, but that’s how Ginga Legend Weed made me *feel.*

And speaking of my emotional response to Ginga Legend Weed, yes, I did sniffle a bit while I read, especially during a story line involving a pup who’d been cruelly separated from his mother. And yes, I felt compelled to write a check to the Humane Society when I finished. I don’t know if either of those actions are testament to Ginga‘s quality, exactly, but they speak to its ability to push my emotional buttons. And sometimes knowing that I’m still attuned to my inner sap is reward enough for a highbrow gal like me.

Genkaku Picasso Volumes 1-3

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Genkaku Picasso Volumes 1-3 by Usamaru Furuya

Genkaku Picasso is an interesting series, because the author Usumaru Furuya came out of the alternative manga scene in Japan with his earlier work featured in Garo. Genkaku Picasso is a series about a misanthropic young artist who gains the power to change the people around him when he is possessed by the artistic inspiration to draw their inner souls. This series had incredibly interesting and surreal art, but it felt to me like it wasn’t ambitious enough. I’m probably being overly critical because Furuya is so clearly talented, but I thought the story aspects of Genkaku Picasso let down the art a little bit. The series is still very much worth reading for the visual elements alone.

The first volume shows the lonely life of Hikari Hamura, nicknamed “Picasso” by his classmates at school due to his relentless drawing habit. He doesn’t really have any friends, but a girl in his class named Chiaki who finds him interesting and makes an effort to hang out with him. As they sit by a riverbank while Hikari is sketching, a horrible helicopter crash takes place. Chiaki is killed, but Hikari survives. Chiaki is transformed into a mini-angel who lives in Hikari’s pocket and his talent at sketching takes on a mystical turn. Chiaki informs him that his arm is starting to rot and the only way that he can save himself is to start helping other people. Hikari can now sense when a classmate is troubled. A dark aura manifests itself around Hikari’s next subject and he becomes possessed by a strange muse, compulsively drawing a depiction of his classmate’s inner heart. Hikari then can leap into his own drawing and experience the surreal scene he created, and his actions inside the drawing can cause the tormented soul to change for the better.

Hikari’s first subject is Sugiura, whose inner landscape is dominated by a crumbling cliff, amusement park, and an angry giant clutching a bag of money. While Sugiura is outwardly popular, his family life is less than ideal. As Hikari learns more about his classmate, the surreal pictures shift and change until Hikari is able to arrive at the truth of what is tormenting Sugiura. One of the things I liked very much about this manga was the way the illustration style would change depending on the world Hikari inhabits. The real world has all the polish and screentone of a standard manga, but when Hikari is transported into one of his illustrations it becomes more unfinished, with crosshatching used for shading and a slightly grainy quality that evokes the idea of a pencil or charcoal sketch.

Hikari continues to help his classmates, but his erratic behavior (he looks like he’s talking to himself when he’s talking to Chiaki) and his habit of abruptly passing out (which happens when he disappears into a drawing) still causes most of his classmates to shun him. He does manage to inspire feelings of affection in the people he helps, and he’s soon surrounded by a circle of acquaintances who are now taking more of an active interest in him.

One of the things that bothered me about this manga throughout the first couple volumes was the fact that Chiaki doesn’t seem to mind at all her transformation into Hikari’s nagging Tinkerbell. Even though while she was alive she inexplicably supported Hikari, I thought it was odd that she didn’t have more of a reaction to her fate. Genkaku Picasso is fairly episodic, but I did like some of the stories where there would be a shift towards Hikari exploring the inner life of a character that appeared briefly before. Hikari helps a boy in his class named Mamba finally work through his feelings towards a girl named Ogura. Mamba’s images evoke a sinister tree binding the girl he likes. Later Hikari visits Ogura’s subconsciousness and sees that her inner life is filled with mecha and yaoi imagery.

Some of Hikari’s solutions sometimes seem a bit simplistic, and this was particularly the case when Hikari helped one of his classmates who happened to have gender identity issues. The story ends very happily, which is nicely affirming if unfortunately not very realistic. One of the rewarding things about Genkaku Picasso is seeing the differences in the inner lives of Hikari’s targets. Joan of Arc, a Disney take-off, pop idols, childhood toys, and surreal gardens form the mind landscapes of Hikari’s classmates.

The third volume moves away from the more episodic storytelling of the first two volumes, finally providing some answers to questions readers may be forming about Hikari’s strange behavior, and if he’s ever going to turn his powers of artistic observation on himself. In his final journey, Hikari delves into his own psyche but he finds himself absolutely alone, without Chiaki. Hikari’s classmates begin to get worried about where he might be and they decide to go on their own rescue mission. We finally see some of the back story of the accident where Chiaki was killed, and there are some incredibly arresting images of Hikari trying to peer out of his own eyeball as though he were separating out the slats of a window shade that are going to stay in my memory for a long time.

The ending is heartwarming, with a dash of fake-out. While the story was concluded in an emotionally affecting manner, it seemed a bit too easy for me somehow. This goes along with my earlier reaction of the basic premise of the book. I think that there are some problems that just can’t be solved nicely with some surreal sketching and psychological intervention from a socially maladjusted teenager. I’m glad I read Genkaku Picasso, because it is so visually innovative and serves as a great contrast to the usual type of shonen series that get translated here. My frustration with the series remains because I think Furuya’s artistic talent is so great that he’s clearly capable of producing a classic work, but Genkaku Picasso isn’t it. Maybe I’d be better off reading some of his manga where he’s adapting another writer’s work. I still enjoyed Genkaku Picasso and would recommend it to anyone wanting to read visually striking manga.

Review copies of volumes 2 and 3 provided by the publisher.

The Josei Alphabet: P

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“P” is for…

Patisserie Mon, written and illustrated by Kira, originally serialized in Shueisha’s You, ten volumes. It’s a josei title about baking. I have nothing to add, but do I really need to add anything?

Pikupiku Sentarou, written and illustrated by Tsubasa Nunoura, currently serialized in Kodansha’s Be Love. As not everyone has a side in the dogs-versus-cats debate, I give you a long-running comedy about a pet bunny.

Porando Hishi Ten no Hate Made, written and illustrated by Riyoko Ikeda, three volumes. Who wouldn’t want to read Ikeda’s fictional examination of the elective monarchy of the 18th century Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth? No one I want to know, that’s who wouldn’t. The Amazon Japan listings for the first and second volumes let you “look inside.” Just search using 天の涯まで.

Pride, written and illustrated by Yukari Ichijo, originally serialized in Shueisha’s Chorus, 12 volumes. This award-winning title follows the careers of dueling, would-be opera divas. My money’s on the woman on the cover above. Diva looks like she came to play.

Pure Maple Pancake, by Keiko Shiomori, originally serialized in Shueisha’s You, five volumes. A career woman’s messy life gets messier when her estranged older sister goes missing and leaves a young son behind.

Josei magazines:

Licensed josei:

  • Paradise Kiss, written and illustrated by Ai Yazawa, originally serialized in Shodensha’s Zipper, published in English by Tokyopop, five volumes.
  • Pet Shop of Horrors, written and illustrated by Matsuri Akino, originally published by Ohzora Shuppan, published in English by Tokyopop, 10 volumes.
  • Planet Ladder, written and illustrated by Yuri Narushima, originally serialized in Sobisha’s Comic Crimson, published in English by Tokyopop, seven volumes.
  • Pretty Poison, written and illustrated by Yutta Narukami, originally published by Ohzora Shuppan, published in English by LuvLuv Press, one volume.
  • Public Wife, Private Mistress, by Masami Hoshino, adapted from a novel by Sarah Morgan, originally published by Harlequinsha, published in English by eManga, one volume.

What starts with “P” in your josei alphabet?

Reader recommendations and reminders:

Upcoming 5/18/2011

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The current Pick of the Week was a tough one, as there are three titles I like very much in the Midtown mix. Fortunately, Kate and Michelle had my back. As for the rest of the ComicList, well, let’s see what looms on the horizon, shall we?

Sticking to the Viz Signature neighborhood, the second volume of March Story ships through Diamond. I was unimpressed with the first half of the first volume of this latest display of comeuppance theatre, but the back half was more interesting. Kate’s review of the second volume indicates that my reservations about the series may stay in place:

For all the skill with which March Story is executed, I haven’t yet fallen under its spell. It’s certainly one of the best-looking titles in the VIZ Signature line, but it has a slick, synthetic quality that prevents the reader from feeling the characters’ pain or appreciating their peril — something that no amount of blood-soaked flashbacks or tearful confessions can solve.

Elsewhere, Oni Press offers up more work by Ted Naifeh, which is always welcome. In this case, it’s Courtney Crumrin Tales: The League of Ordinary Gentlemen #2. Now, when is that Polly and the Pirates sequel coming out? I’m not getting any younger.

On an unrelated but very exciting note, the next Manga Moveable Feast is right around the corner. The Panelists will be hosting a sure-to-be-lively-and-enthusiastic discussion of Mitsuru Adachi’s Cross Game (Viz), a series about which I’m always happy to rave at possibly counter-productive length.

 

Hanasakeru Seishonen Eps 5-12

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I’ve continued on with watching Hanasakeru Seishonen, and as one would expect from an anime adaptation of a Natsumi Itsuki series, it grows more more complex as the series progresses. The first four episodes seemed like an engaging and slightly quirky reverse harem scenario, with all the wealthy industrialists and leopard reincarnation talk going on, but after watching a good chunk of the series I can now see why someone would describe Hanasakeru Seishonen as being mostly about politics.

The political aspects of the series are introduced along with Prince Rumaty, who is second in line to the throne for Raginei, a vaguely Asian/Middle Eastern country with a penchant for sun worship. Rumaty is as arrogant as you might expect a prince to be, but he soon finds himself charmed by Kajika despite himself. Their friendship is cemented when they have to go on the run together after a failed assassination attempt on the prince’s life. They end up spending some quality time playing cards with the local mafia before returning to the Burnsworth compound. It soon becomes clear that Kajika’s family has ties to the country of Raginei that go beyond her father’s business interests. There’s an extended flashback that details the adventures of Rumaty’s grandfather on his first visit to America, where he meets Kajika’s grandparents. Just when the series might be getting a little bogged down by all of the cross general angst and political machinations, there’s a break when Kajika returns to Japan and visits her friend Yui. Everyone that Kajika knows abruptly converges on Yui’s house, and the family’s reaction to Eugene and Li-Ren adds a welcome element of humor.

While Hanasakeru Seishonen might not have the almost operatic levels of craziness of the manga series by Itsuki that I’ve sampled, there’s still something enjoyable about the way the story slowly unfolds, with the different characters, flashbacks, and world building all combining to create a series that’s much more intelligent than you’d expect from a reverse harem series. Itsuki always seems to make some of the cliches and story conventions of manga much more interesting than they have a right to be and it is nice to see that this pattern continues in the Hanasakeru Seishonen anime.

Pick of the Week: Signature Style

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MJ is on the road this week, so we’ve assembled a slightly smaller version of the Manga Bookshelf Battle Robot to take on Wednesday’s new arrivals. As always, we’re basing our recommendations on what will go on sale this week at Midtown Comics. And — not surprisingly, given the team’s reading habits — David, Michelle, and I are bullish about the new VIZ Signature offerings. Read on for our recommendations.

DAVID: It’s hard for me to pick among the three VIZ Signature titles that are arriving this week, as I like them all for their own reasons. Like an over-compensating parent, I’ll focus on the one I feel like I may be neglecting: the third volume of Shunji Aono’s I’ll Give it My All… Tomorrow. This shaggy, funny tale of a mope’s attempt to become a mangaka is the perfect tonic for Bakuman. Even more exciting is MJ’s promise that “in volume three stuff actually happens.” Slice-of-loser-life isn’t usually my genre of choice, but I love this book for its combination of biting humor and surprising sympathy. As Johanna Draper Carlson puts it, “I can relate, as can most adults who’ve grown up and made trade-offs.”

KATE: My vote goes to Gente: The People of Ristorante Paradiso, a series I initially found too drowsy to engage me. The latest installment, however, reminded me of a good Italian film: it has some comic moments, but the prevailing mood is wistful, as adults contemplate failed relationships, flirt with attractive strangers, and struggle to confess deeply buried feelings. At the risk of sounding like a grouchy old bat, one of the things I like best about Gente is that Natsume Ono makes age and experience look sexy; for someone who’s read a few too many stories about shy fifteen-year-olds who pine in secret for hot jerks, it’s refreshing to read a manga about real adult relationships. If only Marcello Mastrioanni had lived long enough to star in an adaptation… now *that* would have been hot.

MICHELLE: I’ll cast my vote for the other VIZ Signature offering, volume three of Saturn Apartments.  I described the first volume as a “low-key dystopia,” but the tone warmed up to “homey” levels in the second volume. After setting up the world and fleshing out its characters, I’m wondering where Hisae Iwaoka will take the story next, since volume two alluded to some mysterious action upon Earth’s surface. Even if it remains mellow, I’ll be happy, but should Saturn Apartments actually develop some intrigue, I can only assume that will be even better!

 

So, readers, what looks good to you this week? Inquiring minds want to know!

Bookshelf Briefs 5/16/11

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This week, David, Kate, Michelle, & MJtake a look at several titles from Yen Press and Viz Media, including a special dual-view of Usamaru Furuya’s Genkaku Picasso.

Arata: The Legend, Vol. 4 | By Yuu Watase | Viz Media – Shôjo superstar Watase’s first foray into shônen has a number of appealing qualities, many of which are reminiscent of the work of Rumiko Takahashi. There’s a durable quest plot that suggests that Watase is in this for the long haul. There’s the concurrent fish-out-of-water narrative, with an average, contemporary kid swapping places with a roguish boy from a fantasy kingdom in turmoil. And there’s a burgeoning supporting cast of cranky but amusing jerks who can’t resisting throwing their lot in with the heroes. It’s not all Takahashi pastiche, though. Careers could certainly be (and probably have been) built on that, but Watase has her own sensibility that’s very much in evidence here: recognizable emotions writ large, and ordinary people thrown into extraordinary circumstances. It’s a very endearing, sturdy series that may not be particularly surprising, but it’s always nice to see Watase in good form. -David Welsh

Case Closed, Vol. 38 | By Gosho Aoyama | Viz Media – One of the unfortunate side effects of long-running shônen is a build-up of excessive familiarity, especially if there isn’t much forward plot motion. Case Closed is certainly guilty of that, but this high-concept mystery is lively fun if you don’t read too much of it at once. This volume is business as usual. Teen-turned-tyke super-sleuth Conan Edogawa looks for a way to restore himself to his proper age, helps his elementary-school friends solve a theft, figures out who murdered a professional wrestler in spite of adult dismissal and incompetence, and helps a rival teen super-sleuth out of a sticky situation. Aoyama certainly knows how to keep his episodes moving briskly, and it’s entertaining to try and solve the cases along with Conan and company. My favorite bits feature Conan and his classmates, and there’s at least one laugh-out-loud moment in their amiable investigation. -David Welsh

Genkaku Picasso, Vol. 3 | By Usamaru Furuya | Viz Media – The third and final volume of Genkaku Picasso follows the same basic template as the previous installments: Hikari, a.k.a. “Picasso,” draws pictures of what’s inside his classmates’ hearts, then plunges into the images to decode their meaning. This time around, however, Hikari finds himself trapped inside one of his own visions, and must interpret what he’s seeing in order to heal his own emotional wounds. Although the series ends on a happy note, the prevailing tone is decidedly cheeky; Furuya can’t seem to decide if he’s writing a Shonen Jump title or mocking one. That ambiguity isn’t a bad thing, however, as it injects even the most mawkish or predictable scenes with a jolt of subversive energy. -Katherine Dacey

Genkaku Picasso, Vol. 3 | By Usamaru Furuya | Viz Media – I was a bit critical of Genkaku Picasso‘s first two volumes, generally finding Usamaru Furuya’s art to be the main draw instead of the too-easy efforts of antisocial artist Hikari (and ghostly pal, Chiaki) to solve the secret problems plaguing his classmates. Imagine my surprise, then, when the final volume of this weird little series actually evoked a sniffle or two! True, some elements of the final chapter, in which Hikari dives into his own heart and must learn to accept the truth of Chiaki’s death, are kind of hokey, but I liked it anyway. – Michelle Smith

Higurashi When They Cry: Demon Exposing Arc | Story by Ryukishi07, Art by En Kito | Yen Press – The family that slays together stays together — or so we’re led to believe through most of the Demon Exposing Arc. The story focuses on the Kimiyoshis, recent transplants from the Hinamizawa region. In the days following a terrible explosion in Hinamizawa, Grandma Kimiyoshi becomes convinced that Oyashiro-sama, guardian spirit of Hinamizawa, was punishing the villagers for their lack of faith, and sets out to prove her devotion to this ancient and wrathful god. Grandma’s resolve alone would make for a spooky story, but as her family is drawn into her paranoid fantasies, the plot takes a grislier and more compelling turn. As with other installments of the Higurashi franchise, the story sometimes bogs down in dense, info-dump dialogue, but the story remains suspenseful from beginning to end, rewarding readers with a deliciously nasty surprise in the final pages. -Katherine Dacey

My Girlfriend’s a Geek, Vol. 3 | By Rize Shinba, story by Pentabu | Yen Press – Taiga gets a shock as this volume opens, when his girlfriend informs him that she’s found a girlfriend. Later on, he gets roped into some romantic Christmas cosplay, and nearly roped into attending winter Comiket. This series may not be deep, but it sure is fun, enhanced nicely by Rize Shinba’s skillful visual storytelling and fujoshi-tinged sense of humor. As a bonus, volume three also includes a chapter from Sepatte Takuro, Yuiko’s favorite slashable shounen manga-within-the-manga, drawn by mangaka Hiromi Namiki, which is frankly delightful. This is one of those series I feel I probably shouldn’t like, but I just really do, more so with each new volume. Recommended for a light weekend read. -MJ