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Off the Shelf: It’s all uphill…

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MJ: Hi, I’m hungry. Gimme food.

MICHELLE: You can have one of the chicken thingies I’m fixin’ to eat.

MJ: Can I, really???

MICHELLE: Sure. I will put it in the mail tomorrow.

MJ: Hm. I foresee several issues here. Maybe we should just talk about manga. Got any?

MICHELLE: Indeed I do! This week I decided to check out two new series from Digital Manga Publishing, neither of which happens to be boys’ love. The results were mixed.

I’ll start with the weaker of the two, Arata Aki’s The Beautiful Skies of Houou High. Now, we’ve been doing this column for almost a year now, so I hope you (and the readers) will appreciate the rarity of the statement I am about to make.

This manga is bad.

I don’t mean bad in a trashy, fun way. I mean bad in a thoroughly muddled and possibly even offensive way. About the only words of praise I can summon are “some of the characters look cool… until they open their mouths.”

The basic premise is this: boyish lesbian Kei Saeba spends all her time chasing girls. Her mother would rather see her married off to some rich dude, so she contrives to send Kei off to an all-male boarding school. Kei is so dense she doesn’t notice anything amiss, even when the school has a different name than the one she thought she was going to. Once there, she spends a lot of time puking (guys gross her out) and trying to keep her gender under wraps, since the school director has essentially threatened her life if her secret gets out. What? Why? Later, he hires his precocious eleven-year-old nephews, who happen to be scientific geniuses, to attack her with poison needles. To “pressure” her. What? Why? This makes absolutely no sense!

When not dealing with this thoroughly mishandled attempt at a mysterious subplot, the story focuses on Kei’s exceedingly unfunny interactions with her classmates, who include a bully, an Otomen, and a masochist.

I’m just so disappointed. I mean, it’s not like I was excited for another story about a girl disguising her gender or anything, but the cover doesn’t look so bad, and the boyish protagonist looked kind of appealing. Too bad she’s dumber than a box of rocks.

MJ: I hardly know what to say. That sounds… just awful. First of all, what the hell, boys make her sick? What an offensive way to portray a lesbian teen. And on top of that, she’s basically being tortured? You know, a manga about the mistreatment of gay teens in school could be a really great manga, but when these kinds of things are tossed into a story that’s not taking them seriously, it’s just gross.

It took me almost twenty minutes to type that, I was so distressed. Argh. Carry on.

MICHELLE: She isn’t being mistreated by the boys because she’s gay—I don’t think anyone actually knows that besides her mother—but the director is supposed to have some sinister agenda or something and the bully just enjoys making people uncomfortable (his words). The series totally seems poised to head into irredeemably offensive. territory, but it’s not quite there yet. Still, I would not be at all surprised if, once guys lose their emetic effect, she ends up deciding she likes them after all. I think flames would literally shoot out of my eyeballs if that should happen. Not that I intend to keep reading.

Anyway, let’s speak of more pleasant things. What did you read this week?

MJ: Well, I guess I’ll start on a low note as well, and whaddaya know, it also involves gender-disguised teens! Yes, I’m talking about Mayu Shinjo’s Ai Ore!, from Viz’s Shojo Beat imprint.

Mizuki is a student at an all-girls’ high school, where her boyish good looks have worked their way into every girl’s heart. She’s also the guitarist in a girl-band that’s about to lose its lead singer. When cutie Akira wants to audition for the spot, Mizuki is shocked and horrified to find herself smitten. And she soon discovers why–Akira’s a boy!

While I’m not prepared to denounce this manga quite as completely as you did The Beautiful Skies of Houou High, I can’t really praise it either. There could be a great story in the romance between two teens who defy their society’s gender expectations, but this manga is really, really not it.

“Romance is difficult when everyone keeps mistaking Mizuki for a boy an Akira for a girl!,” claims the back cover copy. Romance is difficult how, exactly? Aside from making constant note of how cute Akira is and how handsome Mizuki is, and the way their classmates dote over them as though they were members of the opposite sex, the whole gender thing seems completely superfluous, to the point of being offensive.

Mizuki is emotionally flustered and afraid of Akira because he makes her feel all fluttery inside. Akira is super-protective of Mizuki and anxious to get her naked. There is no challenging of traditional gender roles anywhere in sight. If anything, this manga reinforces them, and not in a positive way at all. And if I never had to read another discussion of breast size in manga again, I’d be the happiest girl on earth.

On top of it all, the romance isn’t particularly enjoyable, with or without the gender stuff. Their attraction seems to be completely physical (without any real acknowledgement of that by the author, who paints it all as sweet, sweet love). Akira’s cute, but kind of a jerk, and Mizuki is so helpless and fragile, it was enough to send this reader screaming into the night.

This is a nice, chunky release–a double-volume at least–but unfortunately the substance is paper-thin. It’s a real disappointment.

MICHELLE: Oh, that’s too bad. I was hoping Ai Ore! would be fun. But smut is Mayu Shinjo’s gig (she’s the creator of Sensual Phrase, after all) so it seems like we’re in for more of the same. Although I haven’t read W Juliet, a VIZ release under the Shojo imprint, this story strikes me as being kind of similar. Probably W Juliet is the story you wish this one was!

MJ: Well, I’ve yet to see a lot of smut here. It’s mostly just tedious mooning around, though there are some pretty unbelievable sexcapades near the end of the volume. Still, that’s definitely not what’s offensive about the series. And yes, I do wish I was reading W Juliet! It sounds much more promising.

MICHELLE: Somewhat better, yes! The second new series from DMP that I checked out is Countdown 7 Days. This manga is by Karakara Kemuri, whose Takeru: Opera Susanoh Sword of the Devil (TOKYOPOP) was ever so much better than that cumbersome title would suggest, so I had fairly high hopes.

The story so far is intriguing, but a bit unpolished. Mitamura, an instructor at an afterlife school that teaches the dead what they need to know in order to be reincarnated, has chaperoned a model student’s day trip to our world and promptly lost sight of her. While he tries ineffectually to track her down, he runs into—literally, on a moped—the recently dead Hanasuke Onigawara. Mitamura promises Hanasuke that he will reveal a way for him to come back to life if Hanasuke agrees to help him track down the missing student. Hanasuke agrees, but there’s just one problem: no such method exists.

Eventually, the rebellious student is captured and all three of them go back to the afterlife, with Hanasuke enrolling in the school himself. But that’s not really the point. Actually, the whole story seems to be about reforming Mitamura, who is cold and callous and doesn’t seem to realize when he has hurt people. Hanasuke’s devastated reaction when he learns the truth honestly shocks Mitamura, but he is moved by his student’s fervent efforts to get him to value life more. (It appears he reminds her of her first love.) In the final chapter, there are hints of darker doings between the spirit and human world, which could be interesting, but I hope the series doesn’t forget about making its hero a little more human.

As a final note, Kemuri’s art is really lovely. I’m especially fond of Mitamura’s character design. Even if the story itself hasn’t quite found its footing, the aesthetics alone are worth a look.

MJ: This sounds like one of those stories that might be really flawed, but I’d still love them. I could be wrong, of course, but I admit I’m intrigued. Messy human beings (living or dead) are fascinating to me.

MICHELLE: When I was reading it, I seriously thought, “MJwould like this.” Mitamura’s fun to look at and a character type one doesn’t see too often, so I’m looking forward to volume two to see how things develop.

What else have ya got?

MJ: Well, with the Eisner nominations out just last week, I thought this would be a great time to take a look at volume three of Nobuaki Tadano’s 7 Billion Needles, nominated this year for “Best Adaptation From Another Work.” This series was one of my picks for the 2010 Manga Bookshelf Gift Guide, and was a key player on the impressively strong roster of new series Vertical debuted last year.

In volume three, much of the focus shifts from Hikaru to the two warring aliens inside her who become aware of a growing number of mutations manifesting on earth. At one point this sort of god-like creature turns up, interested in the upcoming “macro-evolution” and wondering what the planet will ultimately look like, which is less fascinating than it sounds. To be honest, Tadano seems to be leading us down one of the series’ less compelling roads, at least for the moment. But even with all this, there’s so much good here.

And by “good” I mean “Hikaru.” Even on the sidelines, she’s still the heart of this series, worrying about an isolated classmate and willing to put herself on the line to try to save someone like her from going where she once did. And it’s Hikaru who provides hope that humanity might prevail in the upcoming evolutionary war. She’s the best of us, and I love the fact that she is, without having to be super-cheerful or always “doing her best.”

Tadano’s artwork is really a highlight in this volume, from expressive human faces to sci-fi gore. The art pulls us through, even in the story’s weakest moments, and with just one volume left, I’m on the edge of my seat.

MICHELLE: Vertical really has been releasing some awesome stuff this year! I didn’t manage a timely read of the first couple of volumes, so ended up deciding that I’d read the whole thing when the fourth and final volume comes out later this month.

I love what you said about Hikaru being kind of heroic despite not being perfect. It makes me much more interested to read about her story.

MJ: She’s definitely my favorite thing in the series, and there’s a lot to like overall. I should mention that the two aliens provide some winning moments in this volume as well, as they try to share Hikaru’s consciousness.

So, this column has shifted dramatically uphill since the first volume on the docket. Not a bad way to go!

MICHELLE: Ending on a high note is always good. But the real question is… did you find some food?

MJ: YES. And furthermore, my husband went out for donuts. I WIN.

MICHELLE: Wow. My repast was sadly lacking in donuts.

MJ: I’d send you one, but there’s that whole mail problem again. So…

MICHELLE: Yeah. Sigh.

The Josei Alphabet: K

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“K” is for…

Kuragihime, obviously, but that’s one of those “just a matter of time” titles, so I’ll save the five major slots for series that I haven’t really highlighted yet. Kiko-chan’s Smile might be less likely for licensing, but, again, I’ve already covered it to the best of my ability.

Kami no Kodomo, written and illustrated by Kyoudai Nishioka, originally serialized in Ohta Shuppan’s Horror M, one volume. This is described as a “twisted and deeply disturbing tale of a sociopathic serial killer.” The brother-and-sister team that goes by Kyoudai Nishioka was responsible for one of the stories in Top Shelf’s Ax anthology, and one of their other titles, Child’s Play, was published by Last Gasp, though it seems to be out of print.

Kanon, written and illustrated by Chiho (Revolutionary Girl Utena) Saito, originally serialized in Shogakukan’s Flowers, six volumes. This one promises seriously crazy melodrama about a gifted but emotionally damaged young violinist.

Kawa Yori mo Nagaku Yuruyaka ni, written and illustrated by Akimi (Banana Fish) Yoshida, originally serialized in Shogakukan’s Petit Flower, two volumes. The summary of this title has to be read to be believed, but it sounds just awesomely insane. A snippet: “Toshi is your regular senior high student, except in the evenings when he’s a bartender at a joint frequented by American servicemen, where he deals drugs, pimps, and even cross-dresses a little on the side.”

Kaze to Ki no Uta, written and illustrated by Keiko (Andromeda Stories, To Terra…) Takemiya, variously serialized in Shogakukan’s Sho-Comi and Petit Flower, 17 volumes. Yes, this is the legendary The Song of the Wind in the Trees.

Kiss and Never Cry, written and illustrated by Yayoi (Tramps Like Us) Ogawa, originally serialized in Kodansha’s Kiss, 10 volumes. This emotional drama focuses on a star-crossed pair of ice dancers.

Magazines:

  • Kiss, published by Kodansha

Licensed josei:

  • Kaze Hikaru, written and illustrated by Taeko Watanabe, currently serialized in Shogakukan’s Flowers, 28 29 volumes to date, published in English by Viz.

What starts with “K” in your josei alphabet?

Reader recommendations and reminders:

  • Karneval, written and illustrated by Touya Mikinagi, currently serialized in Ichijinsha’s Comic Zero-Sum, published in English in Singapore by Chuang Yi.
  • Kajimaya, written by Eiichi Ikegami, illustrated by Mamoru Kurihara, originally serialized in Kodansha’s Kiss, five volumes.

Upcoming 4/13/2011

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My Manga Bookshelf Pick of the Week should surprise no one, but it’s hardly the only item of interest on the current ComicList, which is jam-packed.

It’s always worth noting when Drawn & Quarterly publishes a Japanese comic. This time, it’s the English-language debut of Shigeru (GeGeGe no Kitaro) Mizuki in the form of his semi-autobiographical Onward Towards Our Noble Deaths, a tale of “the desperate final weeks of a Japanese infantry unit at the end of World War II.” I would note that this doesn’t sound like it’s in my usual wheelhouse, but Drawn & Quarterly manga seldom does, and I almost always end up being glad I read it or even liking it a great deal. I’m really, really looking forward to Mizuki’s Non Non Bâ, so this will be a nice warm-up.

In an almost certainly, possibly immeasurably lighter vein is the fourth book in Matthew Loux’s Salt Water Taffy series, Caldera’s Revenge. If you aren’t familiar with these quirky, funny comics, they feature a pair of brothers who spend a memorable summer in the surprisingly mysterious seaside town of Chowder Bay, where they encounter giant lobsters, restless spirits, and legendary eagles who steal hats. Just the kind of thing you would have wanted to distract you when you were stuck in the sticks with no television.

Tokyopop is kind enough to release new volumes of two of my favorite shôjo series: the sixth (and final) volume of Julietta Suzuki’s Karakuri Odette, and the 12th volume of Banri Hidaka’s V.B. Rose.

In other, non-Cross Game and, for that reason, lesser Viz news, there’s the second volume of Yuuki Iinuma’s Itsuwaribito, which seems like a series that could go somewhere interesting, though this volume didn’t particularly impress me.

What looks good to you?

Oresama Teacher Volumes 1 and 2

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Oresama Teacher Volumes 1 and 2 by Izumi Tsubaki

Izumi Tsubaki is the author of the high school massage club manga Magic Touch, that didn’t generally get favorable reviews from most manga bloggers. I read one volume from Magic Touch that was from the middle of the series and didn’t think it was horrible, although it didn’t inspire me to pick up the rest of the series. Oresama Teacher seems so much better! There’s an element of subversive humor on display that many shoujo series
lack, and some of the unconventional interactions between the characters made me think that Oresama Teacher seemed a bit like a kinder and gentler version of an Ai Morinaga series. And I love Ai Morinaga.

One of the things that I liked right when I first picked up Oresama Teacher is the fact that the heroine is a semi-reformed juvenile delinquent being packed off to an alternative school. I wish we had more teacher-centric female juvenile delinquent manga released in English, and can only hope that one day we get Gokusen translated over here. Mafuyu is able to fight and lead a gang with great competence, but she is utterly incapable of living alone and cooking for herself. When she goes out to replace the instant ramen she destroyed, she happens upon a handsome older man who is getting beaten up. He acts mysterious and bizarre and steals her food. Of course, when Mafuyu shows up at school the next day she discovers that the man is her homeroom teacher Takaomi.

Tsubaki comes up with something I didn’t think was possible – an interesting twist on the old “I have met my beloved childhood friend again as a teenager” plot device that is used so often in shoujo manga. Takaomi is Mafuyu’s long lost neighbor, but he carefully trained her to be a delinquent from a young age. Mafuyu at first remembers her old friend tenderly, but when her real memories start to come back she realizes that due to Saeki, her childhood was filled with brutal training sessions and savage beatdowns. While she starts school determined to act like a normal girl, join clubs, and fall in love, Mafuyu soon finds herself confronting her former ways. She sits next to young delinquent Hasakaya who is able to detect her innate bloodlust. Hasakaya is so eager to fight that he takes on large groups alone, and Mafuyu decides to rescue him while disguising her actions. Hayasaka is just dim enough to believe that she had no involvement when he wakes up with bodies piled around him. Saeki appears to be sociopathic and manipulative, getting Mafuyu and Hayasaka to join his “Public Morals Club” and indulging in the occasional bit of sexual harassment.

Many of the characters in Oresama Teacher are hilariously dimwitted, the better to set up Tsubaki’s jokes. This is the type of thing that gets a little tiring after multiple volumes of a comedy manga series, but Tsubaki’s characters have a bit more depth than usual, because she’s careful to develop everyone’s individual motivations. Hasakaya’s weird code of honor ensures that he’s always going to get into trouble by challenging multiple people to fight him at once, and Mafuyu’s impressive fighting skills and desire to save her friend ensure that she’s always going to come to his rescue. Her new found friendship is important to her and she doesn’t want Hasakaya to think that she’s odd, so she makes a rather pathetic attempt to hide her identity by wearing a bunny mask. Mafuyu’s penpal by way of carrier pigeon, the macho guys in the crafts club, her growing friendship with Hasakaya and the inexplicable relationship between her and Takaomi have me looking forward to the next volume. Oresama Teacher is a great manga to pick up if you’re looking for something light and funny that also serves as an antidote to more typical shoujo.

Review copies provided by the publisher

Butterfly, Vol. 1

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Reading Butterfly won’t change your life, make you a better person, or cause subtle but significant changes to South American weather patterns, but it may just restore your faith in Tokyopop’s ability to suss out smart, entertaining series that quietly subvert genre conventions.

The genre in question is what I call “seeing dead people,” in which a teenager struggles to cope with the unwanted ability to interact with ghosts. Normally, these long-suffering teens see spirits everywhere, but Genji Ishikawa, Butterfly‘s protagonist, sees only one ghost: his older brother, who committed suicide after pushing a girl into the path of an oncoming train. Though Genji would like nothing better than to have a girlfriend, his tragic past and rumored ability to speak to the dead proves irresistible to classmates with an interest in the paranormal.

Genji has another problem: he’s ¥600,000 in debt, more than he could hope to earn through an after-school job. When a peculiar girl approaches him with a money-making proposition, he reluctantly accepts, only to renege on their agreement when he realizes what he’s being asked to do: tangle with ghosts. Or, more accurately, tangle with what Ageha’s clients believe are ghosts; she has the ability to make people’s fears take corporeal form, and expects Genji to “kill” these projections for her clients’ benefit.

Though Ageha is a type we’ve seen before — manipulative, preternaturally calm, faintly androgynous — her abilities put an interesting twist on the “seeing dead people” premise. She clearly profits from her deceptions, but her fraud is, at bottom, a useful public service, one that allows shopkeepers, frightened swimmers, and hotel chambermaids to resume their normal routines after a catastrophic event, even if these “exorcisms” don’t actually help the dead cross over to the afterlife. As mercenary as Genji finds Ageha, her success forces him to to consider the possibility that his own spiritual powers are less a bane than a blessing, that he has an obligation to develop and use them, rather than deny their value.

The only downside to such an ambitious premise is that Yu Aikawa needs almost every page of volume one to establish the basic parameters of her story. Some of the exposition is handled gracefully; the details of the brother’s death, for example, are revealed slowly and casually, forcing the reader to piece together what happened to him with little authorial guidance. Some of the exposition is handled clumsily, however; Ageha and Genji’s first few encounters seem more like job interviews than spontaneous exchanges of information, an impression that isn’t thoroughly dispelled until one of their ghostbusting gigs goes awry.

Narrative hiccups aside, the story that’s beginning to emerge in the later chapters of volume one is compelling, a supernatural mystery that explores its characters troubled emotional lives with the same thoroughness as it dispenses with pesky spooks. Recommended.

BUTTERFLY, VOL. 1 • BY YU AIKAWA • TOKYOPOP • 208 pp. • RATING: TEEN (13+)

Butterfly, Vol. 1

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Reading Butterfly won’t change your life, make you a better person, or cause subtle but significant changes to South American weather patterns, but it may just restore your faith in Tokyopop’s ability to suss out smart, entertaining series that quietly subvert genre conventions.

The genre in question is what I call “seeing dead people,” in which a teenager struggles to cope with the unwanted ability to interact with ghosts. Normally, these long-suffering teens see spirits everywhere, but Genji Ishikawa, Butterfly‘s protagonist, sees only one ghost: his older brother, who committed suicide after pushing a girl into the path of an oncoming train. Though Genji would like nothing better than to have a girlfriend, his tragic past and rumored ability to speak to the dead proves irresistible to classmates with an interest in the paranormal.

Genji has another problem: he’s ¥600,000 in debt, more than he could hope to earn through an after-school job. When a peculiar girl approaches him with a money-making proposition, he reluctantly accepts, only to renege on their agreement when he realizes what he’s being asked to do: tangle with ghosts. Or, more accurately, tangle with what Ageha’s clients believe are ghosts; she has the ability to make people’s fears take corporeal form, and expects Genji to “kill” these projections for her clients’ benefit.

Though Ageha is a type we’ve seen before — manipulative, preternaturally calm, faintly androgynous — her abilities put an interesting twist on the “seeing dead people” premise. She clearly profits from her deceptions, but her fraud is, at bottom, a useful public service, one that allows shopkeepers, frightened swimmers, and hotel chambermaids to resume their normal routines after a catastrophic event, even if these “exorcisms” don’t actually help the dead cross over to the afterlife. As mercenary as Genji finds Ageha, her success forces him to to consider the possibility that his own spiritual powers are less a bane than a blessing, that he has an obligation to develop and use them, rather than deny their value.

The only downside to such an ambitious premise is that Yu Aikawa needs almost every page of volume one to establish the basic parameters of her story. Some of the exposition is handled gracefully; the details of the brother’s death, for example, are revealed slowly and casually, forcing the reader to piece together what happened to him with little authorial guidance. Some of the exposition is handled clumsily, however; Ageha and Genji’s first few encounters seem more like job interviews than spontaneous exchanges of information, an impression that isn’t thoroughly dispelled until one of their ghostbusting gigs goes awry.

Narrative hiccups aside, the story that’s beginning to emerge in the later chapters of volume one is compelling, a supernatural mystery that explores its characters troubled emotional lives with the same thoroughness as it dispenses with pesky spooks. Recommended.

BUTTERFLY, VOL. 1 • BY YU AIKAWA • TOKYOPOP • 208 pp. • RATING: TEEN (13+)

Pick of the Week: Decisions, decisions…

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It’s another strong week for manga shipping into Midtown Comics. Check out our Picks below!

MJ: This is a tough pick for me, with new volumes of both Karakuri Odette and Natsume’s Book of Friends shipping this week. But I’ll put in my vote for volume nine of Shiho Sugiura’s BL-lite fantasy Silver Diamond, out this week from Tokyopop. From my review of volumes 1-4, “There is so much charm to Silver Diamond, I hardly know where to begin … Though characters are what I read stories for, Silver Diamond also benefits from strong world-building and a solid (if not wholly original) fantasy plot … Sugiura’s art is honestly gorgeous, with lovely character designs and just exactly enough detail to be both beautiful and easy to read.” Though I’d consider this series a casual read, sometimes that’s just the read a weary mind most requires. In times like these, Silver Diamond hits the spot.

DAVID: It is a tough week, or it would be if not for my personal curve breaker, Mitsuru Adachi’s Cross Game. The third omnibus, which collects the sixth and seventh volumes of the series, arrives this week, and it’s a treat. There’s a several significant turning points in this installment, all of which are wonderfully handled by Adachi. I’ve reviewed the first and second collections in this series, and I’ll probably review the third, because I will not rest until more people are reading this wonderful series.

KATE: Oh, the dilemma! After several weeks of slim pickings, I hardly know where to start: volume three of Cross Game? volume six of Karakuri Odette? volume six of Natsume’s Book of Friends? But if I had to choose only one title, it would be volume four of Neko Ramen, which is quite possibly the best manga Tokyopop is publishing right now. I know, I know: “cat opens noodle shop” sounds like a one-joke premise, but most of the humor stems from feline hero Taisho’s ill-advised promotions, unappetizing specials, and inability to learn from his mistakes as he tries to expand from humble stand to national chain. Yes, there are jokes about hairballs and scratching posts, and jokes that just aren’t funny, but on the whole, Neko Ramen is a smart comedy that’s edgy but never mean-spirited, poking fun at the absurdity of Taisho’s ideas while honoring his ambition and hustle.

MICHELLE: The plus side to going last this week is that each of you has cleared one possible contender from my list, and I heartily second each of your recommendations. While I am tempted to select the seventh volume of Shinobi Life, a shoujo tale about the romance between a modern girl and a ninja that is way better than one would expect, I think I will be the one to formally select the sixth and final volume of Karakuri Odette as my pick this week. I’ve enjoyed this quirky slice-of-life series a great deal, and even though I was less than enthused by the addition of wife-seeking robot Travis in volume five and am therefore somewhat troubled by Odette’s bridal attire on the cover, I’m still eagerly looking forward to seeing how it all ends.

So readers, what are your Picks this week?

Tidbits: Shonen Jumpin’ Jehosaphat

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Sometimes I just crave some shounen manga! Here, then, are a few short reviews of some shounen I have lately read: the third volume of Bakuman。, the 31st through 34th of Bleach, the second of Genkaku Picasso, and the thirteenth through fifteenth of Slam Dunk. All are fairly recent releases and all published under VIZ’s Shonen Jump imprint; Bakuman。 and Genkaku Picasso also have new volumes due out in May.

Bakuman。3 by Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata
This was my favorite volume of Bakuman。 so far!

It begins with Mashiro and Takagi struggling to create a mainstream battle manga, over the objections of their editor, because they believe this is the ticket to popularity in Shonen Jump. They improve a lot between attempts, but in the end, Takagi requests some time alone over summer break to think of a new story, leaving Mashiro free to work as an assistant for Eiji Nizuma, their rival.

MJ adores Eiji, and when he first appeared in this volume I was wondering how that could be, since he comes across as bratty and weird. Once you get to know him, though, it turns out he’s actually kind of endearing. He simply says what he thinks, and is incapable of being malicious or devious. After watching him happily and genuinely soak up feedback from his assistants—apparently his editor at Jump is too in awe of his genius to offer any useful guidance—I kind of love him, too!

To top it off, we see some growth from the female characters. Miho makes some progress in her dream of becoming a voice actress, although right now she seems to be succeeding mostly on account of her good looks. Miyoshi comes up with the goal of being a novelist, though her primary function in this volume is to captivate Takagi with her general awesomeness and make Mashiro doubt that his partner is working on the promised story at all.

In the end, the future of the partnership appears to be in jeopardy, even though both guys have independently hit upon the idea of a detective manga as the way to go. I’ve always found this series interesting for its inside glimpse into the publication process, but now I’m starting to find it interesting for the characters, as well. I eagerly await volume four!

Bleach 31-34 by Tite Kubo
You might not think that battles against creepy supernatural foes with bizarre powers could be boring, but it turns out that Bleach somehow manages it.

Volumes 31 through 33 are chiefly comprised of fights against weird-looking dudes during which nearby structures often go “boom” and crumble. It’s pretty much impossible to tell what’s going on, so I just sort of coast along until there’s a panel that shows someone actually being hurt by something. There are but two bright spots in these volumes. One is the predictable but still gratifying revelation that Nel, the toddler who’s been accompanying Ichigo in his journey across Hueco Mundo, is actually a badass (and buxom) former Espada. The second is an honestly riveting scene in which a hollowfied Ichigo appears before Orihime for the first time and terrifies her.

Things improve a bit in volume 34 with the timely arrival of some Soul Reaper captains. Okay, yes, their explanation for their arrival is pretty flimsy, but I will accept any excuse if it means Byakuya will be around. This also leads to a crazy battle of one-upsmanship between one of the stranger Soul Reapers, Kurotsuchi, and his Arrancar opponent. It goes something like this:

Arrancar: Fear my leet skills! I will turn your innards into dust!

Kurotsuchi: Oh, actually, I infected [Uryuu] with surveillance bacteria the last time we were fighting, so I’ve been watching your battle and, aware of your abilities, have replaced all my insides with fakes. Too bad. Now my gloopy pet will eat you.

Arrancar: Lo, I have been et. But before that happened I implanted [Nemu] with my egg, which will hatch and grow a new me! Plus, there are bits of me still in your pet, which will allow me to use it to attack you.

Gloopy pet: *splat*

Kurotsuchi: Oh, but before you did that I programmed my pet to self-destruct if anyone ever tried to use it against me. Also, I filled Nemu’s body full of drugs for the same reason, so now you’re going to see everything in extreme slow mo while I kill you.

Arrancar: Crap.

Honestly, it’s so outrageous one kind of can’t help admiring it!

Genkaku Picasso 2 by Usamaru Furuya
I really wish I could like Genkaku Picasso more. Mostly this is because Usamaru Furuya’s art is really impressive—true, in their normal states the characters don’t look all that exciting (and the lip-glossy sheen on the boys’ lips is somewhat distracting) but the illustrations created by artistic protagonist Hikari Hamura are detailed and gorgeous, and I like that Furuya continues drawing in that style when Hikari and his ghostly advisor, former classmate Chiaki, enter into the drawings in order to help solve the problems plaguing their classmates.

The problem is that I just don’t like any of the characters! Hikari is creepy, anti-social, and perverted, and is always reluctant to help out his classmates, putting Chiaki in the role of always being the one who reminds him that he has to help them, otherwise he’s going to rot away. (He cheated death in volume one and this is the manner in which he must pay for that.) I could possibly like Chiaki if she were given something to do besides pester Hikari all the time, but that’s not the case.

The manner in which the classmates are helped by Hikari and Chiaki is also odd. The pair enters a drawing based on the “heart” of said classmate and attempts to figure out what is worrying them. One boy has created a fictional girlfriend, for example, while another girl sees herself as a mecha rather than an actual girl. While inside the drawing, Hikari and Chiaki attempt to reason with the classmate, while in the real world, the classmate answers them aloud, making them look totally freaking crazy to the people who happen to be around. If I was hanging out with my friend and he began to break up with his imaginary girlfriend right in front of me, I think I would be quite alarmed.

That said, there is one bright spot in this volume—the tale of Yosuke, a girl born in a body of the wrong gender. Perhaps it’s a little too optimistic, but I liked it anyway, especially the fact that the “heart” of the transgender kid is the calmest and healthiest place we’ve seen yet.

If Genkaku Picasso were any longer, I might not continue it, but since there’s only one volume left, I shall persevere.

Slam Dunk 13-15 by Takehiko Inoue
Ordinarily, if a series took two-and-a-half volumes to cover less than an hour of action, I might be annoyed. Not so with Slam Dunk, which takes that long to finish Shohoku High’s exciting prefectural tournament match against Kainan, a team that has made it to Nationals every year in recent memory.

There’s an interesting phenomenon that occurs when one reads Slam Dunk. Hanamichi Sakuragi, the hot-headed protagonist, has matured somewhat since the beginning of the series, though he’s still inclined to proclaim himself a genius at every opportunity. Hence, it’s pretty satisfying to see him humbled, and to watch him realize that he hasn’t yet got the skills to carry the team or hog the spotlight. And yet, there comes a point where the humbling has been sufficient, and one wants to see him triumph.

When Captain Akagi sprains his ankle during the game, Sakuragi, realizing how immensely important this game is to Akagi, does his best to fill the captain’s shoes. How can you not root for someone trying so hard to make someone else‘s dream come true? Yes, it’s the talented Rukawa who is single-handedly responsible for tying up the game by halftime, but Sakuragi is just trying so damned hard that his bluster actually becomes a source of strength for his teammates. When he finally makes an impressive slam dunk in front of a cheering crowd, I convince that I got a little sniffly.

Shohoku ends up losing the game, though this doesn’t put them out of the running for Nationals just yet. The disappointing experience makes Sakuragi more serious than ever before and he returns to school with a shaved head (as penance for an unfortunate mistake during the final seconds of the game) and a fierce desire to improve.

Why do I love sports manga so much? I’m honestly not sure I can articulate it, but with Slam Dunk part of it is the fact that the hero, who previously had no goals in life, has found a place to belong and something to care about. That kind of story pushes my personal buttons in a big way.

Review copies for Bakuman。, Genkaku Picasso, and volume fourteen of Slam Dunk provided by the publisher.

Bookshelf Briefs 4/11/11

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This week, MJ, Kate, David, & Michelle take a look at several ongoing series from Viz Media, Digital Manga Publishing, TOKYOPOP, and Yen Press.

Bunny Drop, vol. 3 | By Yumi Unita | Yen Press – I think this column is a perfect venue for new volumes of series like Bunny Drop where all I basically have to say is that it’s still excellent. This time around, Daikichi deals with the milestone of Rin starting primary school, carries on traditions that his parents observed for him, and adds to the ever-growing list of responsibilities people face when they’re guardian for a child. For her part, Rin adapts to her new school and helps a friend do the same. Unita is such a smart and warm observer of the small moments that make up everyday life and the subtle connections that represent family at its best. I seriously can’t speak highly enough about this book and hope you’re all reading it. I’m thrilled that it received an Eisner nomination. – David Welsh

Countdown 7 Days | By Kemuri Karakara | Digital Manga Publishing – Kemuri Karakara’s latest series, Countdown 7 Days, focuses on the students at the Sheol Soul School — or should that be Schul? — an academy that prepares the recently deceased for the afterlife. Though I’m temperamentally predisposed to like manga with a supernatural theme, I’d be the first to admit that Karakara doesn’t seem to be in control of the material; the characters have no chemistry with each other, and the basic rules of the afterlife are so poorly explained that much of the action in volume one doesn’t make much sense. It’s a shame the plot is more muddle than linear narrative, as Karakara has a flair for drawing the kind of nattily attired men, fancy weapons, and evocative settings that inspire fan fiction and cosplay. -Katherine Dacey

High School of the Dead, vol. 2 | Story by Daisuke Sato, Art by Shouji Sato| Yen Press – The zombie action continues in volume two, but though the apocalyptic intrigue is beginning to ramp up as police and other authorities begin treating even living citizens as acceptable losses, the series’ fanservice has officially lost all touch with reality. While the volume begins promisingly, it later degenerates into unbelievable sexual fantasy, as we’re asked to believe that not only do average young women spend baths together playfully groping at each other’s (amazingly large) breasts, but that they are also keen to prance about in their thong underwear while all the menfolk remain fully clothed. Meanwhile, the avocados of doom have definitely grown. Suitable as wank-fodder only.– MJ

K-ON!, vol. 2 | By Kakifly | Yen Press – So, I have to wonder… am I really supposed to find any of this funny? When Yui, the ditzy lead guitarist of the band formed by the members of the pop music club, suddenly forgets a simple chord, am I supposed to laugh? How about when she acts superior to the new girl, Azusa, whose talent eclipses her own? Worst of all, how about when their faculty advisor, who is fixated on her students’ bust sizes, actually grabs one girl’s breasts? None of this is in the least bit amusing to me. The only reason I liked this volume a little more than the first is the introduction of Azusa, who motivates the girls to actually practice once in a while. Scintillating stuff, that. – Michelle Smith

Neko Ramen, vol. 3 | By Kenji Sonishi | TOKYOPOP – The third volume of Neko Ramen finds Taisho experimenting with “Boomeramen” (it comes back when the customer throws it), dressing as a panda (“They’re trendy,” he explains), and opening a high-end restaurant called Neko Ramen Hills. Though it’s clear to the reader – and to the shop’s only regular customer – that Taisho’s ideas are terribly misguided, the cat cook remains a fierce optimist, undeterred by failure and impervious to suggestion or criticism. That kind of character isn’t always the easiest to like, but Taisho is oddly winning in his dedication to building a successful business; it’s hard not to root for him, even though he never seems to learn from ill-advised promotions or impulsive hiring practices. Highly recommended. – Katherine Dacey

Otomen, vol. 9 | By Aya Kanno | Viz Media – Just days after rashly claiming my disillusionment with Otomen as a multi-volume series, I decided to give it another chance, with somewhat mixed results. Though a sub-plot in which Juta is nearly (but then not) outed as shoujo mangaka Jewel Sachihana only feeds my frustration with the series’ situation comedy setup, this volume’s ramped-up gender commentary has almost won me back over. Whether it’s enough to keep me hooked for more than another volume remains to be seen, but I can’t deny that things look more promising than they have in a while. Of course it doesn’t hurt that Kanno’s sense of humor and artwork are both just as stunning as ever. Cautiously re-recommended.– MJ

From the stack: Korea as Viewed by 12 Creators

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I don’t know if it was editorially composed to be this way, but Korea as Viewed by 12 Creators (Fanfare/Ponent Mon) puts its least successful pieces first, allowing the stories to build in ambition and interest as the anthology progresses. The order leaves the reader with the strongest possible impression of the collection and only a scant memory of the introductory blandness. It’s a smart choice.

Choi Kyu-Sok opens the collection with “The Fake Dove,” a reminder that pretense is an international language. In it, a manhwa artist tries to live among the homeless for an assignment. It’s exactly what you’d expect – halfhearted, privileged guilt tempered by winking cynicism. “Feel bad about their plight, but you can still complain about the way they smell.”

Catel’s “Dul Lucie” has a promising idea – the creator’s attempts to show South Korea through her trademark character’s eyes. Unfortunately, it ends up being a shapeless blend of travelogue and authorial excuse-making. It’s not without charm, though, and I’d like to read some of Catel’s other work. (This chapter is among those that suffer from sometimes awkward, seemingly rushed translation; happily, none of the really good pieces fall victim to that fate.)

Things start to perk up with “Solego’s Tree,” by Lee Doo-hoo. A gifted artist finds that masterworks can have unintended consequences in a simply structured, beautifully drawn little parable.

Alas, it’s back to the bland with Vanyda’s “Oh Pilsung Korea!” A French brother and sister (whose father is Korean) bemoan the fact that they aren’t seeing “the real Korea” during their visit. Putting aside the fact that they haven’t made any specific efforts in that direction, I always find the notion of finding the “real” anywhere kind of presumptive. If the story had been about the impracticality of expectations or the travelers’ accountability, there might have been something here.

I liked “Cinderella” by Park Heong-yong, a tale of boyhood mischief that morphs into something stranger but still welcoming. I found Mathieu Sapin’s “Beondegi” twee in the way I generally react to “normal person gets dragged into wacky misadventures by a free spirit” fiction. Byun Ki-hyun makes a conscientious effort to illustrate the ways women are underestimated and overlooked in “The Rabbit,” blending elements of fantasy into a realistic urban landscape. The results aren’t especially memorable or persuasive, though.

The anthology really takes off with Igort’s “Letters from Korea.” It displays the sharpest point of view of any of the stories up to this point, and the creator clearly filtered his experiences into a coherent, thematically resonant narrative. He recounts his experiences with artisans of various levels and types, from someone who crafts handmade notebooks to a legendary animator to the people who merely leave notes to loved ones on the border with North Korea. It’s a story with interesting things on its mind, representing a meaty kind of travel experience that’s well worth sharing.

Utterly different and even more glorious is “The Pine Tree,” by Lee Hee-jae. A large family gathers in their rural hometown for the funeral of their patriarch. It speaks clearly and eloquently of the power of tradition and the enduring bonds of home as it articulates, moment by moment, the experience of the wake, the funeral, and the landscape where they’re set. I’d love for someone to publish more of Lee’s comics if they’re even remotely close to the quality of this piece.

We’re back to travelogue with Hervé Tanquerelle’s “A Rat in the Country of Yong,” but what a travelogue it is. Tanquerelle forgoes conventional detail for wordless, anthropomorphous charm. It’s such a treat to see Tanquerelle visually frame the experience of going someplace utterly new in classic, children’s-book fashion. The experiences aren’t exactly novel, but their rendering has such endearing freshness and such a warm point of view that I doubt most readers will care.

Chaemin snaps us back into the real world with “The Rain that Goes Away Comes Back,” a glimpse at what the Korean equivalent of josei must look like. As with “The Rabbit,” Chaemin shows the challenges and choices working women face. Unlike “The Rabbit,” Chaemin doesn’t need to rely on obvious metaphor. Her protagonist, an unmarried woman working at a social service agency, makes eloquent points about the pros and cons of solitude and makes anxiety about the future palpable, while keeping it at a recognizable, human scale.

Things close out on a totally whimsical note with Guillame Bouzard’s “Operation Captain Zidane.” Bouzard, in a hilariously self-parodying frame of mind, paints his trip to Korea as a ridiculous bit of subterfuge tied to the World Cup. Bouzard neatly and winningly satirizes politics, nationalism, and manic sports fandom in this smart and frisky closer to the book.

While Korea isn’t as consistently successful as its predecessor, Japan as Viewed by 17 Creators, there’s more than enough excellent material here to make it worth your time. Its high points are extremely high, and they’re varied in tone and approach. It’s about two-thirds of a good-to-great anthology, which is a totally acceptable rate of return.