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Off the Shelf: Ranting & Hoping

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MICHELLE: Hey, MJ! What’s brown and sticky?

MJ: Um.

MICHELLE: A stick!

MJ: Ba-dum-dum *chick*

MICHELLE: That is seriously my favorite joke. Anyways! Want to get us started this week?

MJ: I will do that, though I warn you, it won’t be pretty.

MICHELLE: I’m a big girl; I can take it.

MJ: So here’s the thing. For a number of reasons (notably the “I get the message” incident) I haven’t read any of Kanoko Sakurakoji’s Black Bird since its second volume. But somehow last night, in a moment of true madness, I found myself picking up volumes six and seven from my review shelf, determined to give the series another chance. I’d genuinely liked the first volume, after all. Was not that alone reason enough to grant a second chance?

This was a mistake.

“I wanted to see this look on your face,” says super-Tengu Kyo to Misao, his helpless bride. Well, apparently that’s all anyone wants to see because she looks like that pretty much the entire time. It would not be an exaggeration to say that throughout the whole of these two volumes, there are maybe ten pages total in which she is not visibly flushed, either from terror, humiliation, or sexual arousal.

Furthermore, any hopes that Misao might have reclaimed even some small amount of the agency she appeared to possess in the series’ first volume have been utterly dashed by this point. She’s completely submissive to her demon lover, and though volume six opens with her going out on her own to try to stop Kyo’s brutal brother Sho from claiming leadership of the Tengu clan, practically the first thing she says to Kyo when she’s returned from the ordeal is, “I know you’re going to scold me. I’ll accept any punishment you give me,” at which point Kyo admits that what she did probably helped his cause but then adds, “All you had to do was stay in my arms and be protected. You’ve sure turned into a troublesome bride.”

Volume seven revolves around Misao and Kyo’s desperate struggle not to have sexual intercourse (featuring flushed, aroused Misao in an array of flustered poses), which is more tedious than it is genuinely offensive, but man, it was rough to get through.

I realize that I’m basically ranting here, but really, Michelle, I just don’t get it. And I mean that with all sincerity. I can accept that many girls and women enjoy fantasizing about being subservient to a stern, controlling lover. It’s obvious that they do, based on the popularity of this series alone. But it’s just so not my fantasy, to the point of making me feel alternately angry and ill as I attempt to read this series. I just can’t enjoy it, even when I try.

MICHELLE: I haven’t read beyond volume two, either, but I also have later volumes sitting around, waiting for their turn at a second chance. I guess it’s the sales figures and the feeling that popularity must somehow reflect quality that makes us feel compelled to try it again, even if it isn’t our cup of tea. If only it weren’t so skeevy, it could really be trashy fun! It’s not as if Kyo is hard on the eyes or anything.

MJ: I can often appreciate a trashy romance! I have done so many times! But there’s something about this one, Michelle… oh, it just makes me furious on pretty much every other page. And though I’m really quite fond of the adorable little Tengu, Taro, he doesn’t appear often enough in these volumes to sufficiently quell my rage.

So how about you? Anything less maddening to share with us this week?

MICHELLE: Well, though it does have its own shades of “average girl in love with a stern guy,” Itazura Na Kiss still continues to generally delight me.

The fifth volume is no exception. Brilliant Naoki Irie, who rivals Ash Lynx in the ability to do anything and do it awesomely, has finally decided that he wants to be a doctor. Even though he claims to be disinterested in Kotoko Aihara, the girl who has devotedly loved him for five years now, she is the only one he tells about his decision, knowing that it will upset his father to learn that Naoki won’t be taking over for him at his company.

Naoki’s right, but no one expected the father to have chest pains that require hospitalization. Putting his own plans on hold, Naoki steps in to lead his father’s company in his absence, realizes they’re in a pretty dire financial situation, and appears poised to go along with an arranged marriage that would make an in-law of a wealthy potential investor.

Of course, this brings much drama for our poor heroine, as well as many nice moments between the lead couple. While everyone else has their own vision of what Naoki should be, for example, Kotoko’s the only one who grieves the loss of his dream when he decides to put it aside for the sake of the family.

It’s too bad, though, that many other moments in the volume repeatedly drive home the point that Kotoko is thoroughly incompetent at anything she attempts. She’s worthless helping at the office, she can’t knit a decent scarf, she can’t cook… It’s frustrating, because I want to see her find that thing she is really good at. Happily, it seems that she might be poised to figure that out, since she’s realized everyone else has a dream and that all she’s been doing is revolving around Naoki.

Despite the occasional frustration, every time I finish a volume of this series I really wish I had the next. I’d say that’s pretty high praise!

MJ: That’s certainly high praise, maybe even more so since you can recognize the things that frustrate you about the series, yet still feel that way. Of course I’m famous for loving flawed books, but I really think it often comes down to the very *personal* needs we have as readers, and whether a book fulfills them. Yeah, I’d be frustrated, too, with the heroine who is terrible at everything. That trope is really unpleasant for me, and obviously it is for you too. But the series still fulfills your basic needs as a reader and leaves you wanting more.

I suspect my problem with Black Bird is that it simply doesn’t fulfill my needs, so there’s nothing to balance the things that frustrate me about it. Based on your assessment here, I have greater hopes for Itazura Na Kiss!

MICHELLE: I certainly hope you’d find it more to your liking. One major difference is that Naoki’s not trying to quell Kotoko’s personal ambition; in fact, he’d probably like her more if she found something else to do with her life than just moon about over him. I admit that he’s frequently dismissive of her, but there are also things about her that he obviously values, as well.

Now, our final pick of the night is one that we both read. Care to do the summarizing honors this time?

MJ: Ouch! The summarizing! Me? Why?????? (insert dramatic weeping)

Okay, I’ll try. So, the manga we’ve both brought to the table tonight is volume one of Kazue Kato’s Blue Exorcist, out just this week from Viz Media. It’s the story of Rin, a rowdy teen who just happens to be the son of Satan, born to a human woman and raised (along with his frail twin brother) by local priest and well-known exorcist Father Fujimoto. As the series opens, Rin is just becoming aware of his demonic ancestry, the shock of which sends him into a teenaged temper tantrum capable of (accidentally) causing the death of his beloved father figure. Bereft and fueled by vengeance, Rin vows to become an exorcist himself, only to discover that his supposedly innocent brother must be the one to teach him!

How’d I do?

MICHELLE: You did quite well! Now, I will go out on a limb here and guess that you didn’t care much about exorcisms or Satan or demonic powers sealed by a sword, but that you did enjoy the relationship between the brothers once we discover that Yukio, Rin’s brother, is actually a fairly badass exorcist in his own right!

MJ: You are very smart indeed! Yes, that was definitely my reaction, and I suspect it was yours too! I’m actually really glad that David made a point of repeating, when he named Blue Exorcist his Pick of the Week, that the first chapter is exceptionally weak, because if I hadn’t known that it was going to get better, I might not have soldiered on. There really was nothing there to draw me in, aside from a vague fondness for the art style. How about you?

MICHELLE: David’s words definitely were in my mind as I read. At first, I was wondering what was really so awful. Boring, yes, but awful? But then came the thoroughly cheesy scene in which Father Fujimoto is possessed by Satan and I went, “Oh.” Things improve very much when Rin gets to True Cross Academy, however. While I do like the art style, particularly the looks of Rin and Yukio, I must say that the quirky-just-to-be-quirky garb of the academy’s president puts me off quite a bit. Usually I take characters with a bizarre sense of fashion in stride, but this guy’s outfit just seems extra pointless to me.

MJ: I’m on the fence regarding the president’s odd outfit. It’s definitely “quirky-just-to-be-quirky,” just as you say, but it contains a particular element that tends to be bullet-proof costuming for me (giant cuffs on sleeves), which is almost enough to win me over all by itself. There’s a reason I’m obsessed with the artwork in Pandora Hearts.

MICHELLE: That is an oddly specific costuming kink! I haven’t paused to consider whether I have anything similar. Maybe I like long coats, because I really like the outfit Yukio wears while teaching his class.

Which leads us back ’round full circle to the brothers and their relationship. I have to wonder where the story is going to go from here, because while I like the boys and find their interaction interesting—Yukio initially blames Rin for Father Fujimoto’s death but comes around to deciding to protect his brother in Fujimoto’s place—if the whole series is going to be them tackling cases like the girl whose legs were affected by a garden spirit, I can’t say my interest is going to stay put for long.

MJ: Long coats are delicious. I can completely get behind that!

I enjoyed the episode with the girl in the garden, but yes, I agree that format would not be compelling for long. I’d like to see more of the two of them in the classroom, with Rin actually learning the craft under Yukio’s tutelage, because watching the two of them together is the most compelling aspect of the story so far. I’d like to get to know both of them more, both as their present selves and the little boys they once were. I feel like there could be a lot there.

MICHELLE: I think that’s unquestionably the area in which the series shows the most potential, particularly in the character of Yukio, whose perspective of events we haven’t been privy to. I definitely plan to continue reading it; I just hope I don’t wind up disappointed.

MJ: Given how dramatically the series improved between its first two chapters, at least things have already shifted in a positive direction. I have high hopes!

MICHELLE: I have… modest hopes.

MJ: Always the smart one. ;)

A Kid’s View: Yotsuba&!, Vol. 1

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Yotsuba&!, Vol. 1 | By Kiyohiko Azuma | Published by Yen Press – This book is about a little girl and her dad. They have just moved to a new place in Japan. The little girl meets her neighbors, loves to shop, and gets into a lot of trouble.

I liked Yotsuba&!. My favorite part about this book is when Yotsuba, one of her neighbors and Jumbo go cicada-catching. I didn’t like when Yotsuba lets all the bugs go and they get all over her neighbor’s house. One of the neighbors sprays the bugs and the bugs aren’t strong anymore. The bugs were very sad and weak and did not like it.

My favorite characters were Yotsuba and Ena. Both characters were really fun. Yotsuba and I are both little girls and we both like shopping. Ena reminds me of my older sister so I could relate to both characters.

The book was pretty funny. The funniest part was when the bathroom lock gets broken and the people who climb out the window get stuck.

There was nothing I did not understand except for the “&!” at the end of the title. What is that? I did not like it when the people in the book were excited and the illustration made them look really mad and yelling loudly. If I was just looking at the pictures and not reading the story I would think the people in the book were really mean.

I liked the book a lot so I would recommend this book to little girls like me!

The Josei Alphabet: J

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“J” is for…

Jazz-Tango, written and illustrated by Wakuni Akisato, originally serialized in Shogakukan’s Petit Flower, one volume. This yaoi-themed tale features a surfer whose life takes a dark turn when a virtual double shows up in his world.

Jinsei Jojo na no da, written and illustrated by Ai Ueno, originally published by Shueisha, one volume. A young couple elopes and plans to live on love, until the harsh realities of life smack them around a bit. Will their relationship endure?


Jotei Ecatherina, written and illustrated by Riyoko (The Rose of Versailles) Ikeda, five volumes. This series uses the life story of Russian-born author and historian Henri Troyat to examine the biography of Catherine the Great. The notion of Ikeda examining czarist Russia makes me drool, as do the page samples on Amazon.

Jounetsu no Game, based on a novel by Helen Brooks, written and illustrated by Keiko Ishimoto, originally published by Ohzora Shuppan, one volume. This one sounds like Two Weeks Notice, featuring a hard-working young woman slaving away for a selfish jerk. Of course, this jerk’s name is “Matt de Capistrano,” so it certainly gets points for that.

Juunji no Kane ga Naru made, based on a novel by Elizabeth Harbison, written and illustrated by Junko Sasaki, originally published by Harlequinsha, one volume. The most striking thing about this book, aside from the heroine’s apparently disastrous home perm, is her career: she’s a hotel concierge, which would make a great subject for an episodic seinen or josei series. Career concerns aside, our concierge must deal with the advances of the Prince of Beloria. Ah, Beloria… how I tread your soil someday.

What starts with “J” in you josei alphabet?

 

 

iPad Manga Reviews – Rosario Vampire and Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan

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One nice thing about the insanely cheap prices for first volumes in the Viz Media iPad store last month is having the opportunity to try out some new titles that I wouldn’t ordinarily read. Sometimes this will make for a pleasant discovery, and other times I will just confirm that certain manga titles aren’t for me.

Rosario Vampire Volume 1 by Akihisa Ikeda

Rosario Vampire is a fairly standard harem manga that provides the slight twist of a monster school setting. Tsukune is an average human boy who finds himself inexplicably attending a high school for monsters where they practice their skills in pretending to be human. Tsukune is promptly befriended by the most beautiful and powerful girl in the school, a vampire named Moka. She’s drawn to him as a blood source, but she also acts as his only friend. The story in Rosario Vampire is pretty much what you’d expect. There’s plenty of accidental touching and viewing of young monster babes in their underwear. Tsukune’s status as an undercover human is occasionally threatened, and Moka is able to unleash her mystical powers to defend Tsukune whenever he needs rescuing. The art is clear and easy to follow, and for a shonen harem manga this series does seem competently done. But there wasn’t anything extra to engage me, as a reader who isn’t really in the shonen harem manga target demographic. If I want to read a manga about a schlubby human boy tormented by a oblivious girlfriend with amazing powers, I’d just go back and track down some Urusei Yatsura.

Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan Volume 1 by Hiroshi Shiibashi

I’ve written before about having “yokai fatigue”. There are so many manga series that feature people fighting spirits, it really takes a special series like Kekkaishi to win me over as a dedicated reader. Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan does exhibit some cliched shonen plot devices, but the basic premise provides an interesting counterpoint to the standard super-powered teen fighting evil spirits plot that manga readers have come to expect. In Nura, the hapless teen with hidden powers isn’t an ordinary human. Rikuo’s been born as the heir to the Yokai Clan – a group of powerful spirits that functions a little bit like a powerful mafia family. Nura’s grandfather the supreme commander is powerful, but he tends to use his mystical powers to perform a dine and dash when he takes his grandson out to eat at local restaurants. Rikuo grows up in two worlds, surrounded by strange spirit guardians who present themselves as heroic and his classmates at school who think that yokai are evil and annoying. Rikuo doesn’t want to become a yokai, but his monstrous side comes out when his classmates are threatened.

Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan starts out with the familiar framing device of showing Rikuo as a small child in the first chapter, while the second shows him as an adolescent still struggling with the demands of his family and normal school life. One of the things I look forward to in yokai manga are the monster character designs, and Shiibashi comes up with some whimsical supporting characters. I was fond of the spiral-eyed Yuki-Onna, and the neckless Kubinashi, whose head floats above his torso. The first volume of Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan just seems to be setting up many of the story elements. Rikuo is unaware of his stronger Yokai side. His classmates are fascinated with ghost busting. A powerful girl exorcist transfers into Rikuo’s class. These events are pretty familiar to anyone who has read a lot of Yokai manga, but the positioning of the Nura clan as a powerful Yokai family and their interactions with Yokai from other clans was much more interesting. These elements reminded me a bit of The Godfather, if the mafia families in question were all ancient Japanese spirits. Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan does seem like a promising shonen series and I’m going to read the next volume to see if the more interesting aspects of the first volume continue to be developed.

Manga Bookshelf News

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We have a lot going on here at Manga Bookshelf these days, thanks to an expanding list of regular contributors, new features, and quite a number of upcoming special events. So here on this dreary Tuesday, I’d like to take a moment just to highlight some of what’s in store!

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First off, please welcome our newest contributor, Jia Li, who recently reviewed Émile Bravo’s Beauty and the Squat Bears for her column, “A Kid’s View.” With her first book review now under her belt, Jia’s ready for more! Look for her seven-year-old’s take on Yotsuba&!, due out tomorrow morning!

Coming up later this month, new contributor Cathy Yan will discuss the anime adaptation of Fumi Yoshinaga’s Antique Bakery (released just this week by Nozomi Entertainment), in her regular monthly feature, “Don’t Fear the Adaptation.” Be sure to check out her previous installments, covering adaptations of Rumiko Takahashi’s Maison Ikkoku and Natsume Ono’s House of Five Leaves.

Speaking of Rumiko Takahashi, look for a week-long tribute to her work from our own Kate Dacey as part of April’s Manga Moveable Feast. Planned features include reviews of her short story collections as well as an appreciation piece on shounen epic InuYasha.

Also in April, Michelle and I will be taking Off the Shelf on the road, with an extended discussion of Saki Hiwatari’s shoujo sci-fi series, Please Save My Earth, hosted at The Hooded Utilitarian.

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May opens with the release of the final volume of Yumi Hotta and Takeshi Obata’s Hikaru no Go. And since this series has a very special place in my heart and in the hearts of several of our contributors, we’ll be celebrating its completion in English with a joyous group roundtable and more! Come spend May 5th with Manga Bookshelf and Hikago!

Roundtables are the stuff of May, it seems, with the final installment of Breaking Down Banana Fish hitting the blog sometime before month’s end. Join guests Michelle Smith, Robin Brenner, Connie C., Eva Volin, Khursten Santos, and me as we discuss the final three volumes of this classic 80s series!

In June, Michelle and I will play host to the Manga Moveable Feast, with a week-long focus on Kazuya Minekura’s delicious BL action series, Wild Adapter, including a special roundtable-style installment of BL Bookrack featuring guest David Welsh.

Elsewhere in June, also look for a roundtable discussion on Takako Shimura’s Wandering Son coming out from Fantagraphics, featuring all the Manga Bookshelf bloggers and Michelle too!

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Finally, I’d just like to draw your attention to the new donation button at the bottom of the blog. Manga Bookshelf has expenses (as of course we all do). If you enjoy the blog and you’d like to help us pay our bills, please feel free to click that button and toss us a dollar or two.

And while every bit surely helps, let it be known that we value support of all kinds, so if you’re reading, thank you.

So Much to Tell You by John Marsden

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From the back cover:
Fourteen-year-old Marina didn’t know why she was sent away to school. Actually, that wasn’t completely true. She knew it had something to do with the progress she hadn’t made in the hospital. After all, she still didn’t talk. And Marina knew her mother didn’t want her at home.

Then Marina started writing in a journal for English class. Bit by bit the trauma of her silence began to unfold as a shocking nightmare that continued to haunt her. But Marina refused to talk about it or to feel anything. Still, before she realized it, Marina began to feel a little—to reach out to some of the girls at school, to her favorite teacher, to her family—if only she could find the words…

Review:
I have been in a serious John Marsden mood lately, and this is the first of several of his books that will be coming down the pipeline in the near future. This was his first novel, published in 1987, and it’s set in Australia.

It’s February 6, the start of a new term, and an unnamed fourteen-year-old girl has just been assigned journal-writing as homework by the English teacher at Warrington, the boarding school she’s been sent to to learn to talk again. She promises herself that she won’t write in it, but almost immediately begins saying more than she intended to.

As the girl describes life at school and chronicles her observations of her fellow boarders, we begin to pick up hints about what has happened to her. Her face is terribly scarred, for one thing, and she’s spent time in the psych ward of a hospital without much improvement. As she gradually learns to trust her classmates and makes tentative efforts at communication, the truth of what happened to her becomes more clear.

What I really like about So Much to Tell You is that it isn’t a suspense novel. One’s not (or at least I wasn’t) on the edge of one’s seat, frothing to know exactly what happened to the girl (whom we learn at the very end of the novel is called Marina). Instead, what we’re really witnessing is her beginning to heal. Scarred mentally and physically by the family she happened to be born into, with a workaholic father who snapped when his materialistic wife tried to take everything he’d worked so hard for, she begins to realize that most people are fundamentally good, and are more acquainted with feelings of loneliness and ostracism than she expected.

Gradually, Marina finds herself wanting to reach out to her classmates, toward whom she feels no bitterness. Indeed, she is able to praise them quite freely. This, in turn, helps her to reach out to her father, who more than anyone could understand what she’s been going through. Although we aren’t privy to her full recovery, the novel concludes at a point where Marina is clearly going to be okay. Still, I was sorry it was over. Happily, my copy of the companion novel—the journal of one of Marina’s classmates—arrived yesterday, so I will be devouring that promptly.

Lastly, a word of praise for narrator Kate Hosking. I listened to an unabridged recording, and Hosking’s narration really elevated the book for me. She brings Marina to life—and has a cool Australian accent to boot!—and sells Marsden’s prose, which is occasionally a bit too on-the-nose, beautifully. I would happily listen to her read anything.

The Red Snake

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The Red Snake isn’t the most disturbing manga I’ve read — that honor belongs to Mr. Arashi’s Amazing Freak Show, a book so intent on celebrating taboo behavior that I was certain I’d be arrested for having a copy in my house. But The Red Snake earns a special place on my manga-reading list for being one weirdest horror stories I’ve read, a grim fable about a family obsessed with bugs, boils, chickens, and snakes.

The book opens with the narrator wandering the halls of a sprawling house. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to get away from this house,” he explains. “Something evil lurks within these walls.” As lugubrious as the corridors and empty rooms may be, the inhabitants are even scarier: the grandfather is a tyrant who lavishes more attention on his poultry than on his family; the grandmother believes she’s a chicken and sits on a gigantic nest, attacking anyone who threatens her “territory”; the sister has an almost erotic fascination with insects; and the mother is a virtual slave, forced each day to massage and drain the pus from an enormous boil on the grandfather’s face. (Perhaps they’re the kind of people Tolstoy had in mind when he famously opined that “every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way”?)

What follows the prologue is hard to classify as a story; it’s more a string of loosely connected vignettes, all increasingly horrific, in which:

  • Snakes violate the sister in almost every way imaginable;
  • The sister kills chickens and drinks their blood — straight from their dripping necks;
  • The grandmother transforms into a chicken with a human head;
  • The mother gives birth to a monstrous creature that looks like a Garbage Pail Kid; and
  • The narrator goes mano-a-mano with a flotilla of zombie infants.

After nearly one hundred pages of blood-soaked insanity, we find ourselves right back where we started: the narrator begins his soliloquy about the house again, using the same words and wandering the same corridors as he did in the book’s opening pages.

Hino’s artwork resembles a scratchboard drawing or a woodblock print, characterized by large patches of black ink pierced by thin, white lines. In the opening pages, for example, there’s no visible light source anywhere in the house or the surrounding woods — no sky, no candles or lamps — creating an atmosphere of almost unbearable claustrophobia; the shadows are palpable, pressing in on the narrator just as surely as the demons he unwittingly frees later in the story.

Character-wise, Hino’s designs belong to the same genotype as Kazuo Umezu and Kanako Inuki’s. Hino draws young girls and mothers as beautiful, glassy-eyed dolls and old women, fathers, and boys as grotesques. The narrator, for example, wears his worry like a shirt; he has enormous eyes rimmed in circles and is almost bald, even though his behavior and height peg him as a child of about ten or twelve. The grandparents, by contrast, resemble animals: the grandfather looks like a toad, with a bumpy hide, wide-set eyes, and a broad, leering mouth filled with rotting teeth, while the grandmother increasingly resembles the object of her delusion:

I feel like chicken tonight?

For all Hino’s ability to provoke and amuse, I’m not sure how I feel about The Red Snake. The story unfolds with the feverish logic of a dream, yielding some suitably creepy and bizarre images; I’ve never pictured the Sanzu River as alive with flesh-eating zombie babies, but it’s an arresting idea. The ending, too, is surprisingly effective. It’s not clear if the narrator realizes that he’s trapped in a cycle of unending horror, or is simply puzzled that all of the house’s nameless inhabitants have reverted to their “normal” state; either way, it’s a nasty punchline that subverts our desire — and the narrator’s — for closure.

At the same time, however, Hino has a juvenile fixation with blood, pus, and bugs, relishing every opportunity to draw a close-up of the grandfather’s boil or fill the page with a squirm of insects. Though some of these images merit an appreciative eewww, they’re too broadly cartoonish to really spook us; the grandfather’s ailments reminded me of an old George Carlin routine about the perverse delight humans take in studying their hangnails and pimples, rather than the disturbing metamorphoses found in Junji Ito and David Croenberg’s work. Maybe that’s Hino’s point: that we’re weirdly — almost comically — obsessed with our own bodily existence, but The Red Snake is so packed with ideas and sight gags and detours into the ludicrous that it’s hard to know what, exactly, Hino is trying to do besides mess with our heads.

THE RED SNAKE • BY HIDESHI HINO • DH PUBLISHING • 200 pp. • NO RATING (APPROPRIATE FOR OLDER TEENS AND MATURE AUDIENCES; SEXUAL CONTENT AND DISTURBING IMAGERY)

The Red Snake

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The Red Snake isn’t the most disturbing manga I’ve read — that honor belongs to Mr. Arashi’s Amazing Freak Show, a book so intent on celebrating taboo behavior that I was certain I’d be arrested for having a copy in my house. But The Red Snake earns a special place on my manga-reading list for being one weirdest horror stories I’ve read, a grim fable about a family obsessed with bugs, boils, chickens, and snakes.

The book opens with the narrator wandering the halls of a sprawling house. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to get away from this house,” he explains. “Something evil lurks within these walls.” As lugubrious as the corridors and empty rooms may be, the inhabitants are even scarier: the grandfather is a tyrant who lavishes more attention on his poultry than on his family; the grandmother believes she’s a chicken and sits on a gigantic nest, attacking anyone who threatens her “territory”; the sister has an almost erotic fascination with insects; and the mother is a virtual slave, forced each day to massage and drain the pus from an enormous boil on the grandfather’s face. (Perhaps they’re the kind of people Tolstoy had in mind when he famously opined that “every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way”?)

What follows the prologue is hard to classify as a story; it’s more a string of loosely connected vignettes, all increasingly horrific, in which:

  • Snakes violate the sister in almost every way imaginable;
  • The sister kills chickens and drinks their blood — straight from their dripping necks;
  • The grandmother transforms into a chicken with a human head;
  • The mother gives birth to a monstrous creature that looks like a Garbage Pail Kid; and
  • The narrator goes mano-a-mano with a flotilla of zombie infants.

After nearly one hundred pages of blood-soaked insanity, we find ourselves right back where we started: the narrator begins his soliloquy about the house again, using the same words and wandering the same corridors as he did in the book’s opening pages.

Hino’s artwork resembles a scratchboard drawing or a woodblock print, characterized by large patches of black ink pierced by thin, white lines. In the opening pages, for example, there’s no visible light source anywhere in the house or the surrounding woods — no sky, no candles or lamps — creating an atmosphere of almost unbearable claustrophobia; the shadows are palpable, pressing in on the narrator just as surely as the demons he unwittingly frees later in the story.

Character-wise, Hino’s designs belong to the same genotype as Kazuo Umezu and Kanako Inuki’s. Hino draws young girls and mothers as beautiful, glassy-eyed dolls and old women, fathers, and boys as grotesques. The narrator, for example, wears his worry like a shirt; he has enormous eyes rimmed in circles and is almost bald, even though his behavior and height peg him as a child of about ten or twelve. The grandparents, by contrast, resemble animals: the grandfather looks like a toad, with a bumpy hide, wide-set eyes, and a broad, leering mouth filled with rotting teeth, while the grandmother increasingly resembles the object of her delusion:

I feel like chicken tonight?

For all Hino’s ability to provoke and amuse, I’m not sure how I feel about The Red Snake. The story unfolds with the feverish logic of a dream, yielding some suitably creepy and bizarre images; I’ve never pictured the Sanzu River as alive with flesh-eating zombie babies, but it’s an arresting idea. The ending, too, is surprisingly effective. It’s not clear if the narrator realizes that he’s trapped in a cycle of unending horror, or is simply puzzled that all of the house’s nameless inhabitants have reverted to their “normal” state; either way, it’s a nasty punchline that subverts our desire — and the narrator’s — for closure.

At the same time, however, Hino has a juvenile fixation with blood, pus, and bugs, relishing every opportunity to draw a close-up of the grandfather’s boil or fill the page with a squirm of insects. Though some of these images merit an appreciative eewww, they’re too broadly cartoonish to really spook us; the grandfather’s ailments reminded me of an old George Carlin routine about the perverse delight humans take in studying their hangnails and pimples, rather than the disturbing metamorphoses found in Junji Ito and David Croenberg’s work. Maybe that’s Hino’s point: that we’re weirdly — almost comically — obsessed with our own bodily existence, but The Red Snake is so packed with ideas and sight gags and detours into the ludicrous that it’s hard to know what, exactly, Hino is trying to do besides mess with our heads.

THE RED SNAKE • BY HIDESHI HINO • DH PUBLISHING • 200 pp. • NO RATING (APPROPRIATE FOR OLDER TEENS AND MATURE AUDIENCES; SEXUAL CONTENT AND DISTURBING IMAGERY)

Upcoming 4/6/2011

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This week’s installment of Bookshelf Briefs covers a number of imminent manga arrivals from Viz. My Pick of the Week is also from Viz, Kazue Kato’s Blue Exorcist, which I reviewed here. And if you’re wondering about the slate of boys’-love titles coming out this week, look no farther than the latest BL Bookrack for guidance. So what does that leave on the ComicList? Not a ton, to be honest.

I like the sound of one of Tokyopop’s debuts for the week, Yu Aikawa’s Butterfly. MJ offered the following verdict:

As weird as this series is, it’s also really interesting. The characters are all filled with dark little nooks and crannies they’re struggling to hide from everyone else. And the story behind Ginji’s brother’s death is more than spooky. Even Ginji’s odd James Spader-type best friend has some kind of mystery lurking beneath. It’s just the strangest little story, but I really can’t wait to read more.

Hey, it’s about psychics, fake ghost busters, and emotional dysfunction. What more could you want? This five-volume series originally ran in Gentosha’s Comic Birz.

In another corner of the comic shop, there’s the fifth issue of Avengers: The Children’s Crusade from Marvel. It’s about a group of young super-heroes who are trying to find and rescue the mother of two of them. Mom is a disgraced, mentally unstable super-heroine in her own right. (A writer decided to give her a bad case of baby rabies, which of course leads the average person to kill several of her friends.) As with many of my favorite super-hero comics, this one spins on an axis of soap opera. The kids are almost certainly the product of Soap Opera Rapid Aging Syndrome, though they have demonic intervention working in their favor rather than a stint at a boarding school in a pocket dimension where one year apparently passes in the span of one month our time. There’s a lot of romantic geometry, including a totally adorable pair of gay teen super-heroes. And there’s the strong whiff of one writer (Allan Heinberg) creating an entire mini-series to correct and hopefully undo an ill-advised narrative decision by another writer (Brian Bendis).

Of course, it’s got a Ph.D.-level quantity of back story in play, and at least a dozen characters seem to spontaneously arrive in each issue, so I don’t know if I’d actually recommend anyone pick this up at random. For example, do you have any idea who the glowing guy on the cover might be? I know, and I know why he’s annoyed and apparently crisping up the rest of the cast, but I’m weird that way. The comic makes me happy, though.

What looks good to you?

 

Excel Saga Volume 21

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By Rikdo Koshi. Released in Japan by Shonen Gahosha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Young King OURS. Released in North America by Viz.

At long last, folks, we are caught up with Excel Saga. At least until next week, when Volume 22 comes out. But for now, back to one year ago, when Volume 21 came out! Yes, it may be down to once a year, but Excel Saga marches on! (On a quick tangent, I note that one of the endnotes in this volume takes up almost an entire page telling us that Iwata’s ‘Sexy Adventure’ was in English in the original Japanese manga, and then telling us about Lupin III’s third season. In detail. Tremendous detail. Only Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service brings you this level of endnote, a level that may go beyond the fringe of reader comprehension, and reminds us that editors are for OTHER people. It’s awesome.)

Meanwhile, in the actual manga, Excel has grown frustrated with being unable to see Il Palazzo, and decides it’s high time she and Elgala go looking for him. So it’s back to the sewers, in a nostalgic retrospective that reminds us of the good old days of Volume 6 and its control room of deathtraps. Excel and Elgala run into one of those deathtraps, namely a torrent of water coming down the pipe. Luckily, Excel has a solution to drowning: Elgala, who she proceeds to suck all the air out of like an aqualung (as Carl notes in an endnote, what’s the opposite of the Kiss of Life?). Luckily, they both survive, and manage to make it to the locker room and get back in uniform. It’s really been a LONG time since we saw the uniforms.

As this is happening, the Security Force cast are relaxing at a hotspring. This mostly consists of Iwata trying to peep on Misaki while she’s bathing, only to be foiled by the mines she had thoughtfully set up. The most interesting part of this chapter is seeing Miss Momochi’s teasing side, as she asks Misaki if she wants to swap room assignments so that she can be with Iwata. Misaki actually drops her sake cup, and I would too. This is the most Momochi has spoken in 21 volumes, as she gets to talk more once Iwata accidentally tries to molest her instead of Misaki in the middle of the night. (He actually feels remorse at this, a rare Iwata trait.) We still know absolutely nothing about her, and we may never know, but it’s as close to character development as she gets.

Meanwhile, Excel is back in Il Palazzo’s throne room! Elgala is not, mostly as she was trailing behind, and failed to notice that doors don’t automatically open for her. Excel has enough trouble, though, as she’s dealing with seeing Hyatt once again encased in some sort of cryostasis chamber (presumably to try to make her well again), not to mention Il Palazzo immediately dropping her into the pit. The pit! Do you know how long it’s been since we’ve seen the pit? So nostalgic… Anyway, she manages to avoid falling by merely dislocating both hips, and discovers that the Il Palazzo on the throne… is a HOLOGRAM! Of course, now she’s wondering exactly how many times before Il Palazzo has deployed a fake to deal with her.

As this happens, Shiouji is trying to infiltrate ACROSS’s base as well, using Ropponmatsu II. She does very well, until she runs into RopponExcel, who smashes her across the room (and into Elgala, but it’s not the worst damage she’s ever suffered). The real Excel arrives and sees her double abusing a child, and tries to go to town on the robot. It’s actually rather startling that Excel is able to hold her own, given we’ve previously seen Excel having tremendous difficulty lifting Ropponmatsu I. Perhaps she just has to not think about what she’s doing? In any case, it’s yet another example of Excel having superhuman strength and endurance, something we’re likely used to by now. The battle doesn’t last long, as Excel and Elgala retreat and leave the two robots to fight it out.

Excel and Elgala continue their attempts, now trying to get OUT of the base. This involves Elgala holding Excel’s hand, as she finally gives in and admits that the doors won’t open for anyone else. (Excel blithely notes that she’s never noticed such things at her rank.) Unfortunately, they run into Miwa, who has now pretty much taken over the base, and she expels them forcefully down an even BIGGER pit. After all this wackiness, Il Palazzo returns to his throne (seemingly not a hologram now, although I hesitate to use the word ‘real’ in regards to Il Palazzo anymore) with a rejuvenated Hyatt and RopponExcel at his side.

So everyone’s back to square one… at least until Iwata, for reasons still unclear, wakes up in the body of Ropponmatsu II (who got creamed by RopponExcel, and is back in the lab for repairs). After some brief awkwardness showering with Umi (and more lampshading that, despite seeming to be a total perv, Iwata has only ever been interested in Misaki – like Momochi, he mostly feels guilt when seeing Umi), Iwata knows the best way to abuse being in someone else’s body – go find Misaki and try to sneak into her bed as Ropponmatsu II. This goes about as well as you’d expect, though it does take Misaki at least 6 pages to figure it out – is she slipping? So she stomps him unconscious… and he wakes up…

…in RopponExcel! OK, we now have no idea whatsoever what is going on with Iwata now, as he can apparently jump between any robot body unconsciously. Now he’s in Il Palazzo’s base, and trying to figure out what’s going on. He meets up with Hyatt, who’s still trying to figure out “what’s wrong” with her sempai, and reminds her of Watanabe, something which seems to cause her to dribble blood a little. Again, we see that a brainwiped Hyatt seems totally healthy, but the moment she starts remembering things, she is coughing up blood again. Iwata, somewhat poleaxed to realize that he’s in the body of “Teriha”, ends up bolting, and quickly arrives at the same secret room Excel almost got into 18 volumes or so ago. Sadly, it appears to zap him, and he ends up back in his own body.

Shiouji, delighted to get new information on his mother’s secrets, no matter how unintentionally Iwata did this, decides to interrogate him, with Misaki’s help. This goes very badly, as Iwata gets more and more random, and Shiouji notes that a human brain just has trouble adapting to a robot’s processes, and that Iwata is becoming increasingly unable to perceive reality. Yes, even more so. As this happens, Hyatt is out for a walk, trying to get her brain around what’s happening to Excel – still. Not one for great thoughts, our Hyatt. Sadly, she runs into Sumiyoshi, which again triggers memories, causing her to cough up blood and pass out into the river. Naturally, where does she end up? At Excel and Elgala’s cardboard domicile at the riverbank, where Excel has a computer setup as part of her attempts to become more worthy of her Lord. (She did the physical part as well, stopping only when Elgala was at the point of exhaustion. Excel was unfazed, of course.) Elgala notes that she used to be horrible with computers, and we see Excel flashing back to her time as Teriha, where she was reading tons of the Professor’s programming books merely for something to do. Clearly Excel is remembering SOME things about Teriha, but is generally too embarrassed to admit them.

So our power trio are together again, once Hyatt returns from the dead, and just in time, too, as the computer is giving a message to all members of ACROSS – from Il Palazzo! What could it be? Well, we’ll find out next week, when Volume 22 arrives in stores.

Summary of Volumes 1-21: Excel Saga is awesome, and needs more love.