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Karakuri Odette Thursday Commentary

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Today we have a bit of a change of pace from the usual reviews, there are two commentary pieces on the series served up for your reading pleasure instead.

Manga Bookshelf’s Off The Shelf features a conversation between Michelle and MJabout the series. As I’ve mentioned before one of things I’ve enjoyed about this MMF is seeing the contrasting impressions of people who’ve been reading the series all along verses those who picked up some volumes just for the feast. Michelle has been reading Karakuri Odette for some time, but MJchecked out the series due to the MMF.

Over on animemiz, Linda compares Odette to other androids in manga.

Enjoy today’s links! If you’ve written on Karakuri Odette and I’ve missed your post somehow, please contact me so I can include it.

From the stack: Sand Chronicles vols. 9 and 10

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If Hinako Ashihara had contented herself with the conclusion of the main story of Sand Chronicles (Viz) in the eighth volume, I don’t think most fans of the series could have reasonably complained. We’ve seen our heroine, Ann Uekusa, grow from pre-teen to woman, through a stormy adolescence packed with setbacks, disappointments, and rewarding steps forward toward maturity. Ann’s is a fully realized character arc, one of the most complete you’re likely to find in comics.

I’m a bit of a glutton, and I’m a sucker for side stories, so I was thrilled to learn that there were two more volumes of material, checking in with supporting characters and giving readers a look at Ann’s life after “happily ever after.”

In the ninth volume, Ashihara gives us a glimpse into the troubled adolescence of Ann’s mother, whose beauty and gentleness make her the object of jealousy and the subject of rumor in her very small town. As tricky as the core conceit of the story can be – she’s too pretty and fragile for this world – Ashihara grounds it with surprising skill. It highlights the underlying emotional brutality that bubbles up in Ashihara’s work, and while it doesn’t fully excuse Ann’s mother’s later choices, it does give those choices additional context.

The second half is given to a chance encounter between Ann’s friend and rival, Shika, and one of Ann’s exes as they build lives for themselves in New York City. Given the tendency of some shôjo mangaka to exile the ostensible bad girl to a faraway land where she can build a new and better life – you generally see her in a panel, reading a letter from the heroine, who has graciously forgiven her – it’s nice to see that new life in detail. It’s a generous impulse, and it results in a sweet, redemptive encounter for the characters involved.

The tenth volume returns us to our heroine, Ann, and her true love. I’m reluctant to go into too much detail, since who that true love turns out to be is a significant plot point through the series, but the volume-length story shows us the satisfying adult relationship that evolved from turbulent, youthful love. We see Ann’s partner adapt to adult responsibilities, and we see her as a supportive, functioning person, which is a lovely gift to longtime readers.

Aside from being gracefully written and beautifully drawn, these volumes repay patience and investment that resulted not from flash but from sincerity and craft. It’s like a sumptuous brunch the morning after the wedding of a couple you rooted for but were never quite certain would make it to “I do.” They’re essential reading for fans of Sand Chronicles, and they’re additional inducement to read the series from beginning to end if you haven’t already.

Off the Shelf: Karakuri Odette

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MICHELLE: Hello, Off the Shelf readers! MJand I are devoting this week’s column to Karakuri Odette, the topic for this month’s Manga Moveable Feast hosted at Manga Report. I had read some of this series before the MMF was announced, but MJnever had. That has since been rectified!

MJ, it has taken a lot of self-control not to pester you with repeated, “Did you like it? Did you like it?” inquiries this past week. And of course I’d like to know that, but I’d also like to ask what you expected Karakuri Odette might be like going into it and how it compared to your expectations.

MJ: I have to say that I actually had very few expectations going in, other than knowing that it was shoujo that you like and having a vague sense of what that means. And in those uncertain terms, I’d say it fulfilled my expectations entirely. Probably the series it most reminds me of is Kimi ni Todoke–a prime example of “shoujo Michelle likes” if there ever was such a thing. Its tone is similarly good-hearted, and there are actually quite a few similarities between Odette and Sawako in that both of them are really learning to be high school girls for the very first time. That robot Odette seems to accomplish this more easily than human Sawako says quite a bit about both of them and the worlds they inhabit.

MICHELLE: Yeah, I tend to like a lot of those good-hearted shoujo series (many of which were serialized in Margaret or one of its offshoots). And you’re absolutely right about the similarities between Odette and Sawako. Both, for example, have people around them who *like* someone, which is a concept somewhat alien to heroines who are happy enough just to have some friends! So they both must learn what liking someone actually entails. As of volume five, Odette hasn’t really figured that out yet, and Sawako gets it by volume four or so, so the human’s not too far ahead!

MJ: Well, though Odette may not have figured it out intellectually, she’s certainly got the symptoms! This is actually something I wanted to bring up with you. Odette has clearly picked up some genuine emotion along the way, and while this is certainly not a sci-fi series by any means, that’s still a pretty big deal for a robot in any universe. It seems clear, too, that mangaka Julietta Suzuki is charting a romantic course for Odette with Asao, one way or another. How do you feel about that? Does this at all impair your ability to suspend disbelief? And should Suzuki ultimately not go down that road, how will you feel about this as a shoujo manga?

I’m personally torn on both these questions, so I’m curious to hear your take on it all.

MICHELLE: Ooh, what a good question. I have vastly enjoyed Odette’s gradual acquisition of feelings, because Suzuki’s take on it has been laudably understated. Odette’s growing interest in Asao doesn’t impair my ability to suspend disbelief, because honestly I think accepting the whole robot protagonist concept in the first place means one has given blanket acceptance to all sorts of things. I like that she’s beginning to see him in this light, particularly because he was introduced as having feelings for someone else and, so far, does not seem to be thinking of Odette in a romantic light. I always admire series that go for the unexpected ending, so seeing Odette and Asao together at the end would be somewhat of a disappointment, actually. In my ideal ending, she realizes that she loves him, recognizes that he doesn’t love her, and is totally happy that she understands the feeling, even if it must remain unrequited.

An even worse case scenario than Odette ending up with Asao would be to see her paired up with either of the robot boys who seem interested in her. Chris is just too bland, and Travis just too flamboyant.

MJ: Poor Chris! He works so hard only to be labeled “bland!” ;) I think Chris is an especially sympathetic character, actually, because he’s most likely not capable of ever understanding Odette fully or catching up with her at all. He’s simply not an advanced enough robot. Yet if there’s anything he’s learned to actually want it is to please Odette so that he can continue to be with her. It’s subtly written and heartbreaking to watch. And really not that different from some tragic human relationships I’ve seen in my day.

MICHELLE: Well, when you put it that way! Poor Chris, indeed! It’s not that I dislike him—perhaps what I mean is that a relationship with Asao would be more challenging for Odette and prompt further progress toward humanity. Though, of course, I suppose it could say something creepy about Asao if he wanted to date a robot, even one as awesome as Odette.

MJ: Yes, I suppose that’s true. It’s hard to really keep a handle on concepts like that in this series’ universe, where there seem to be robots turning up all the time. This is actually the one aspect of the series I’m not completely sold on at this point. I am enjoying the story of Odette. Where better for any character to learn to be a “girl” than in the pages of a shoujo manga? But though I’ve liked most of the other robots who have turned up in the story, there have been so many of them at this point, it actually is beginning to wear on my ability to suspend disbelief. Or perhaps it’s that too many robots are muddying the waters. This may seem unreasonable, I realize. If I’ve already accepted one robot in the story, what’s keeping me from accepting five? But somehow Odette losing the uniqueness of her existence makes it progressively harder for me to take her circumstances seriously.

I like this manga, I really do. But I wish there were fewer robots. Does that make any sense at all?

MICHELLE: It does, and I get your point. It’s been a while since I read the first three volumes, but I recall a more social robot appearing there against which Odette measures herself. I suppose that’s useful for her, but the pair of robots introduced in volume five feels completely superfluous to me. There are already enough guys (human and mechanical) who are interested in Odette—we didn’t need another. I have a feeling they were introduced only as accessories to their creator, who is probably going to do something dastardly in the final volume.

MJ: Yes, I believe this feeling really did kick in with the introduction of Travis and Grace. It’s not that they’re bad characters, but they feel really incidental to Odette’s story. Honestly, I feel the same way about their sinister creator. This story doesn’t need that kind of melodrama to survive. It was so much more than that when we were just watching Odette learn how to be human.

MICHELLE: Definitely. I reviewed volumes four and five together and liked the former—which focuses largely on Odette’s friendship with sheltered rich girl, Shirayuki—much more than the latter. I wonder whether you share my affection for Shirayuki. I was quite impressed that Suzuki-sensei introduced a new significant character into the cast so seamlessly. She functions as a kind of Sawako, actually. Someone who has shunned human contact and so provides Odette a friend who is also experiencing some commonplace things for the first time.

MJ: I do like her quite a bit, yes! Though I’ve felt that since Shiayuki started attending school with Odette, the author has conveniently ignored her condition, for the most part. We’ve watched Shirayuki go through some rough times, but I can’t recall anything that’s actually had to do with the fact that she hears people’s thoughts whenever they touch her. It was supposedly this huge, terrifying issue that had cut her off from her family and society, but now that she’s in society, it seems to have ceased to exist, at least to any significant extent. So what was the problem again? I like the character, but maybe she really didn’t need that trait to be the person the author wanted to write.

MICHELLE: Yeah, I noticed that, too. And I wasn’t sure how she initially concludes Odette will never lie to her based solely on the fact that she can’t hear Odette’s thoughts, either. I think you’re right that that trait wasn’t necessary and probably Suzuki realized it, too. It must speak highly of my fondness for this series that I, usually such a stickler about plot continuity and the like, am willing to forgive and forget the mishandling of Shirayuki’s ability just because I like the character so much.

MJ: And it’s funny, you know I generally don’t care all that much about such things, so you know it all must be really, really obvious. :D Still, I’ll forgive this series nearly anything because I just really like Odette. She’s a wonderfully written character, and that’s something that hasn’t changed in the slightest over the course of the series so far. In fact, I’d say some of the best writing involving her happens in volume five, when she’s struggling over her irritation with Chris. In those moments, she’s both authentically human and authentically not at the same time. It’s brilliantly written. And while I wish the writing was more consistent, I’m not actually unhappy.

MICHELLE: I wonder, since you read Suzuki’s Kamisama Kiss first, do you prefer it over Karakuri Odette? It’s a later work, so will probably be more polished (it’s hard to tell from the single volume that’s been released in English so far) but I’m not as captivated by its lead as I am by Odette. Hopefully that will change in time.

MJ: I think that it’s really too early to tell. I’m very attached to Odette, and I barely know Nanami at all. I will say that one thing both series have in common is their sense of humor. This is actually something I wanted to be sure to bring up here, because despite the fact that Karakuri Odette is, in many ways, a standard high school shoujo series, the humor grabs me more than most. There was one bit of dialogue, for instance, that delighted me so much, I stopped to write it down. It appears near the end of volume three, when Odette has coerced Asao into going on a double-date with her at an amusement park. Startled at Odette’s choice of date, her friend Yoko asks, half jokingly, whether they need to worry that Asao (who has a reputation for fighting) might “snap and get violent all of a sudden.” Odette responds earnestly, “It’s okay. I’ve never seen any part of Asao snap off.” It’s the tiniest thing, but I actually laughed out loud. The series is full of moments like that.

MICHELLE: It is! The interaction between Odette and the Professor is frequently amusing, as well. And it’s all humor born of the characters’ personalities and not based at all on “oh, the wacky android doesn’t understand our ways” gags or something.

MJ: Yes, you’re absolutely right. Even the line I mentioned, which is certainly a symptom of Odette’s inexperience with human idioms, is not overplayed. The laugh is there, but it isn’t telegraphed in that goofy gag kind of way. It’s the simplicity and honesty of it that makes it so funny.

MICHELLE: I agree. :)

So, I talked a little about what I’d like to see in the final volume. What would you like to see happen?

MJ: This is probably going to sound like a cop-out, but with occasional exceptions, I try to avoid expecting specific outcomes when I read. In general terms, I’d like to see some kind of satisfying conclusion for Odette (whatever that might mean), and for Chris and the Professor as well, since I’ve become quite fond of the three of them. As long as it feels like an ending, though, I’m not feeling too picky about it. Sure, a romance is always nice, but problematic in this case, as you’ve pointed out. So I think I just want to see it come to a real stopping point–one that’s hopefully positive for Odette.

MICHELLE: I can’t quarrel with that!

Check in next week for January’s installment of BL Bookrack, and then again the week after for an all new Off the Shelf!

Red Dwarf: Infinity Welcomes Careful Drivers by Grant Naylor: B

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Book description:
The first lesson Lister learned about space travel was you should never try it. But Lister didn’t have a choice. All he remembered was going on a birthday celebration pub crawl through London. When he came to his senses again, he was living in a locker on one of Saturn’s moons, with nothing in his pockets but a passport in the name of Emily Berkenstein.

So he did the only thing he could. Amazed to discover they would actually hire him, he joined the Space Corps—and found himself aboard Red Dwarf, a spaceship as big as a small city that, six or seven years from now, would get him back to Earth. What Lister couldn’t foresee was that he’d inadvertently signed up for a one-way jaunt three million years into the future—a future which would see him the last living member of the human race, with only a hologram crewmate and a highly evolved Cat for company. Of course, that was before the ship broke the light barrier and things began to get really weird…

Review:
Red Dwarf: Infinity Welcomes Careful Drivers retells a handful of episodes from the first two seasons of the BBC sci-fi comedy, Red Dwarf, and provides additional background information on its two main characters, priggish Arnold J. Rimmer and slovenly Dave Lister.

For those unfamiliar with the show, it takes place aboard the mining ship Red Dwarf. Rimmer is a lowly technician—just about the lowest rank on the ship, tasked with things like unclogging chicken soup nozzles on vending machines—and his only underling is Lister. While Lister is in stasis as punishment for smuggling a (pregnant) cat on board, Rimmer causes an accident that floods the ship with radiation, killing the entire crew.

It takes three million years for the radiation to reach levels safe enough for the computer to let Lister out, which triggers an iconic scene wherein Lister wanders around while the computer, Holly, repeats, “Everybody’s dead, Dave,” with varying inflections until the Liverpudlian finally gets it. Holly brings Rimmer back as a hologram, judging him to be the companion best suited to keep Lister sane, and they soon discover that the cat’s descendants have evolved into a highly fashion-conscious civilization, of which only one member now remains. Episodic silliness ensues.

The book follows this basic outline, too, but adds some scenes to flesh out the characters. For example, rather than meeting Rimmer and Lister aboard the ship, we first encounter them on Mimas, one of Saturn’s moons, in a scene in which Lister has stolen the equivalent of a taxi and picks Rimmer up as a fare. We learn that Lister joined the Space Corps solely as a means of getting back to Earth—and purposefully got caught with the cat so that he’d be put in stasis and the journey home would feel shorter—and receive additional insight on Rimmer’s desperation to become an officer. Both benefit from this treatment and emerge as more sympathetic characters.

Not every episode from the first two seasons is represented—Lister isn’t shown taking the chef’s exam in order to outrank Rimmer, for example—but some, like “Future Echoes,” are included almost verbatim. Because of this structure, there’s not so much a cohesive plot as a string of linear events, culminating in the crew believing that they’ve managed to return to Earth. The material, both old and new, provides quite a few giggles, but can also be extremely unfunny, like when Rimmer and his holographic double squabble interminably.

In addition, a few changes have been made that outright contradict the show. The captain, once male, is now female. Although Lister never was able to tell his long-time crush, Kristine Kochanski, about his feelings on the show, in the book they enjoy a month-long fling. There’s no obvious reason for these alterations, but it’s better to think Grant Naylor—the pseudonym adopted by the show’s creators, Rob Grant and Doug Naylor—made them for some purpose rather than merely by accident.

What this all boils down to is that the content of this book is decently entertaining, though not excellent, and probably deserves somewhere in the vicinity of a B-, which is the grade it likely would have received had I read the print edition. But I didn’t. Instead, Hubby and I listened to the unabridged audiobook read by Chris Barrie (the actor who portrayed Rimmer) and holy freakin’ crap! He was amazing!

Okay, true, Barrie mispronounces the occasional word—“irrevocably” being the most egregious—but his skill in impersonating his castmates is truly incredible. So good, in fact, that I found myself thinking, “I can’t wait until they discover Cat so I can hear Chris Barrie do his voice!” Every single one is great, and though Kryten is perhaps the most eerily accurate, I found myself most transported by Barrie’s take on Lister. Many, many times I forgot that I was not actually listening to Craig Charles in the part.

Barrie’s performance bumps the grade up a notch, and I’d go so far as to say that one should eschew the print edition entirely. He really does bring that much to one’s enjoyment of the book.

Manga Moveable Feast: I sense a pattern

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Just like yesterday, today we have reviews of the first and fifth volumes.

Here’s a look at volume 1 at Experiments in Manga, from a fan of androids in science fiction, “Odette’s eyes and subdued facial expressions visually set her apart from her classmates, but the effect is marvelously subtle. Suzuki also is able to capture the good-natured eccentricity of the professor in how he dresses and behaves—an aspect of his character that isn’t immediately obvious from dialogue alone. And both his and other characters’ (especially Asao’s) frequently over-the-top reactions are a lot of fun to see.”

I also posted my review of volume 5 earlier today.

I’m excited to see new readers discovering this series due to the Manga Moveable Feast, and am looking forward to reading more posts about Karakuri Odette tomorrow.

Best Online Comics Criticism 2010

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You may remember last year, when Johanna Draper Carlson pointed out the absence of both manga and female writers in the Hooded Utilitarian’s Best Online Comics Criticism 2009, featuring pieces chosen from throughout the year by a jury of five (male) critics. It seems likely that Johanna’s criticism was a factor in the selection of the subsequent jury, which included several female manga critics, one of whom was me.

Along with me, 2010’s jury was made up of Derik Badman, Johanna Draper Carlson, Shaenon K. Garrity, Tim Hodler, Chris Mautner and Bill Randall. Throughout the year, we submitted links to the group, pointing to comics criticism we found exceptional. At the end of the year, these links helped us each create a list of our top ten pieces, which were then compiled by the jury’s organizer, Ng Suat Tong. As Suat tallied the year’s votes, he suggested that multiple votes for the same author (on different pieces) be consolidated into votes for a single article, which ultimately gave me more spots on my top ten, and also helped to solidify some writers’ inclusion on the final list.

2010’s top picks among the jury were:

Jason Thompson: The Other Love that Dare Not Speak Its Name

Katherine Dacey on Ayako

Joe McCulloch: Essay on Thought Balloons (“The Problem with American Vampires Is That They Just Don’t Think”)

Craig Fischer on David Mazzucchelli (Born Again Again)

David Bordwell on Hergé (Tintinopolis)

Dirk Deppey: The Mirror of Male-Love Love

Ken Parille: Casper, Formalism, and the ‘Great’ Search Party

Before I reveal my own final list, I’d like to mention a couple of pieces that are not there and why. I must begin by confessing how disappointed I was to discover after I’d agreed to participate, that Shaenon Garrity would also be on the jury. One of the great injustices of the 2009 list, I felt, was that nothing of Shaenon’s appeared there, and her inclusion on the 2010 jury meant that I would have no opportunity to right this terrible wrong! In particular, this year, I raved about her wonderful piece on Cathy Guisewite’s Cathy, and nearly anything pulled from her weekly column at The Comics Journal, The Strangest Pictures I Have Seen. Also not on my final list, but one of my favorite pieces this year, was Ariel Schrag’s Queer identities in comics, the first of her articles to appear at AfterEllen.com.

Now for my final ten votes! These notes are mainly personal reflections on the pieces rather than profound statements on their critical achievement, and should be taken as such. Here they are:

Katherine Dacey on Sexy Voice and Robo/Harriet the Spy. I originally nominated both this and Kate’s Ayako review, with the first consolidation effort resulting in this single vote. Though later discussion between jurors led to all votes going for Ayako (fine with me, obviously), I wanted to put a little spotlight on this review as well, as it was one of my very favorite pieces of the year. Kate has a magnificent ability to make connections between works from different mediums and to express those connections with insight and clarity, and her Sexy Voice essay is a prime example of this talent.

Jason Thompson – To Protect and Kill: Morality in Action Manga: Again, this vote ended up being consolidated into a vote for Jason’s incest piece, both of which I nominated in my original ten, but since this one didn’t make the cut, I thought I should give it a boost. I always enjoy Jason’s writing, and as someone who first came to comics via shounen manga, this piece had special appeal for me.

Dirk Deppey – The Mirror of Male-Love Love: This honest, personal discussion of the writer’s own history as a foundation for criticism of Boys’ Love Manga is a perfect example of what makes compelling writing, online or anywhere else. I’m always most swayed by writers who are able to talk about their personal experience without losing their argument inside it all. Dirk Deppey does that astonishingly well.

Peter Sattler on R Crumb’s Genesis: What’s fantastic about this piece of criticism is how deliberately and clearly it is structured, making it an incredibly informative read even for someone (like me) who hasn’t actually read the comic being discussed. Oh, to be able to write like this. I can only dream of that day!

Karen Green on Pushwagners Soft City: There’s already been some discussion of the fact that our votes lean heavily towards positive criticism, but this piece is actually a wonderful example of why. Karen’s essay here made me feel truly excited about the book she was discussing–I mean really, truly inspired and excited. “This is why I read comics!” I thought at the time. Who doesn’t want to feel like that?

Deb Aoki, David Welsh, Sean Gaffney, Tucker Stone, David Brothers, Joe McCulloch, Ryan Sands, & Scott Green – “AXed” Intro | Part 1 | Part 2: Suat has already expressed his dismay at the inclusion of AXed in this year’s list of runners-up, but in my opinion, this collaborative criticism created entirely on Twitter best demonstrates one of the ways in which online criticism can actually be unique as online criticsm. In the hands of bloggers, concepts of journalism, criticism (and any other kind of writerly “ism”), have ceased to be the precisely distinct entities they once were, carefully controlled and meted out by the keepers of their mediums. Online platforms give writers the opportunity to mash these things up as they please, and to discover new ways in which to express critical thought. While some certainly see this as an assault on traditional criticism, I think it’s fantastic. And it’s not just the “isms” that are being challenged here. The writers who participated in AXed also challenged the platform they were writing on, utilizing Twitter for something far more ambitious than it was ever intended. The result? More of what I’m looking for in the places I frequent online: smart, thoughtful people talking about manga.

Joe McCulloch on thought balloons (“The Problem with American Vampires Is That They Just Don’t Think”): Thought balloons (or boxes, or pieces of floating thought text) are tricky business in my book, always endangering the directive of “show not tell.” But this essay gave me a new appreciation for representations of the inner monologue in any form. It’s a great read.

Phil Nugent on Doonesbury: My very first exposure to comics was by way of my dad. There were two comic strips he loved enough to collect in full, book by book. One, unsurprisingly, was Charles Schultz’s Peanuts. The other? Gary Trudeau’s Doonesbury. I read all of my dad’s extensive Doonesbury collection multiple times over when I was a kid in the mid-seventies, despite the fact that I had little understanding of the politics behind it all. My early love for Doonesbury was no doubt the seed for my teenaged obsession with Berkeley Breathed’s Bloom County, the only comic strip I ever followed as ravenously as my dad followed those he loved. Having not kept up with Doonesbury as an adult, I found Phil Nugent’s analysis of his eventual disappointment in the strip sad, but I can’t deny that it reads like truth.

David Welsh on To Terra… : Though this particular installment of the Manga Moveable Feast brought out quite a bit of interesting criticism from around the manga blogosphere, David’s discussion of the series’ shounen-ai undertones was probably my personal favorite. Eternally fascinated as I am by Japan’s system of manga demographics, this essay could have been written just for me. Thanks for that, David!

Tucker Stone on Blue Spring: Recommended quietly on Twitter by the awesome Kai-Ming Cha, this review simply enchanted me with its understated humor and insight. “… because youthful purpose is the single greatest murderer of youthful pleasure that I can think of,” is probably one of my favorite quotes all year. Also, this: “In the cult of comics blogging, I’m as guilty as many, with a long list of regretful moments of generous praise that strikes me now as being overly kind. I don’t think I’ll regret saying that this is the kind of comic that I would love to see more of, no matter who produces it. It’s eclectic and demanding, hysterically immature at times, and yet, from beginning to end, its viscerally entertaining, visually fascinating, and extremely unique. ”

As a sometimes-critic, that sentence rings startlingly true to my own experiences. And as a reader, what more can I possibly ask?

Kimi ni Todoke Volumes 6 and 7

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Even though I do enjoy manga series with a more cynical vision of love, it is nice sometimes to read something that does simple and sweet very well. Kimi ni Todoke end up being a gentle, feel-good series with a twist – its heroine is totally naive about normal human interaction because her unfortunate resemblance to a famous character from a Japanese horror movie has isolated her socially for years. High school is a time for her to finally come out of her shell as she finally begins to make friends and manages to attract the attention of Kazehaya, one of the most popular boys in school.

One thing I really enjoy is when manga series with a large ensemble cast take the time to give the supporting members their own stories. Sometimes this can lead to a series seeming unnecessarily drawn out (I’m looking at you, Kare Kano), but more often it seems refreshing to learn more about a character who hadn’t been the main focus of the storytelling previously. The sixth volume of Kimi ni Todoke focuses on Chizu, the tomboy in Sawako’s group of friends. Chizu is boisterous and a little dense, but she has a good heart. She’s nursed a crush on her friend Ryu’s older brother Toru for years, but when he returns home with a fiancee Chizu is forced to confront the reality that he mainly sees her as a sibling. It is obvious that Ryu has a crush on Chizu but she probably isn’t ready to deal with his feelings. Chizu’s friends support her as she works through her issues with Toru. She wants him to see her as a woman, but even when she appears before him in a miniskirt instead of her usual sporty attire, his response is that she’s been showing her legs off since she was a kid.

One of the nice things in this volume was seeing all of Chizu’s friends come together to support her in different ways. Sawako and Yano maintain a facade of normalcy, waiting for the moment when Chizu will feel like talking to them. Ryu always seems to be around when Chizu needs to talk or rage at someone, and Kazehaya keeps tabs on the situation in his own way. Shiina’s art is a little more scratchy around the edges than you might expect if you’ve been reading a lot of more polished-looking shoujo titles, but this actually serves to emphasize the changing emotional states of her characters very well. When Sawako is sunk in gloom wondering how to support Chizu, she does look like a caricature of the terrifying Sadako. Chizu seems to crackle with energy when she makes her outrageous pronouncements. When she sees Toru for the first time with her friends she screams “Hide Yano! Hide her boobs! Put her in a closet!” because she doesn’t want Toru to be drawn in by Yano’s natural sexiness. It was fun to see Chizu work through the loss of her first love, and it was interesting to see the way Ryu seems to serve as a quiet, steady counterweight to her more explosive personality.

Kimi ni Todoke Volume 6 by Karuho Shiina

Kimi ni Todoke Volume 7 by Karuho Shiina

The seventh volume switches back to focus on the romance between Sawako and Kazehaya, which is developing at an adorable but glacial pace. Sawako’s friends decide to spring a date on Sawako and Kazehaya by arranging a group New Year’s outing to a shrine and then abruptly disappearing once Sawako and Kazehaya are together. Sawako’s big secret is that Dec 31st is her birthday, but she’s thrilled that she’s going to be able to see Kazehaya on that special day. Yano and Chizu give Sawako a mini makeover and her horrifying facial expressions when she’s trying not to cry and ruin her makeup are hilarious.

The awkward date at the shrine begins, with Kasehaya seeming just as nervous as Sawako. They both are hyper aware that they’re walking together, and their friends hide in the bushes to spy on them and provide a running commentary. Seeing Chizu and Yano look so thrilled about the date was funny, as they exclaim to each other “They’ve started walking and talking side by side!” and “They’re gonna go get amazake!” Ryu just sits off to the side shaking his head. Even though Sawako’s never been out on an accidental date before, Kazahaya is in a similar position. It is the first time he’s gone to a shrine at New Year’s with a girl. I enjoyed all the cultural details of the shrine visit, and it was very cute to see the couple enjoying each others’ company with the type of blushing teenage awkwardness that only manifests itself with first love. They exchange e-mail addresses and when Kazahaya sees the sequence of numbers in Sawako’s after she texts him to say “Thank you for everything this year” he realizes that it is her birthday and comments that he wished he’d bought her a present. While they might have had a nice sudden date, Sawako isn’t really ready to take the next step even though she acknowledges to herself that she wants more than friendship with Kazahaya. It is a very good thing that Kazahaya seems to be the most emotionally intelligent, patient, and sensitive Japanese teenage boy that ever lived, because otherwise I could see rough times ahead for their romance.

Review copies provided by the publisher.

Karakuri Odette Volume 5

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Karakuri Odette Volume 5 by Julietta Suzuki

Once again Suzuki manages to come up with an absolutely adorable cover. I love the way Odette looks so surprised as she’s dancing with the Professor. The fifth volume contrasts old and new friendships as well as different levels of emotional development. Odette’s super strength has been exhibited at school before, and this time Odette overhears a student calling her “Gorilla Girl.” Shirayuki explains “Many men don’t like admitting that a woman is stronger than them. Some of them like the idea of protecting a fragile girl. If that’s what makes a girl cute in their eyes…then a strong girl like you Odette…might not get many cute points.” Odette is depressed about not being thought of as cute due to her strength. Later on she gets trapped with Asao in a storage shed. He’s fully aware of her robot abilities and asks her to break down the door for him. Odette sits with her hands folded in her lap and says it is impossible because she’s never lifted anything heavier than a pair of chopsticks. Asao has grown into the role of Odette’s mentor on being human. He asks her if she’s sitting trapped in a shed because it is something she wants to do, and points out that she isn’t weak. He challenges her, saying “Instead of worrying how people see you, isn’t how you see yourself more important?” Odette concludes that she’s better off using her skills and kicks the door down.

The rest of the volume focuses on two of Odette’s male robot counterparts and her reactions to them. Reformed assassin robot Chris is repaired and waiting to meet Odette again. A side story shows the mission of one of Chris’ brothers as he gets sent to assassinate a professor and instead finds himself forging a strong emotional connection with his target’s young daughter. While the Chris model might not outwardly show emotion very much, it is evident from his actions that he does have deep feelings. Odette encounters a new advanced robot named Travis. He’s arrogant and demanding, but obviously similar to Odette in his almost human-like mannerisms. Odette is so delighted to meet another robot, she doesn’t seem to notice Travis’ more sociopathic tendencies. Travis announces that he’s in Japan to look for a bride, but Odette is oblivious about the fact that she’s the only eligible teenage girl robot around.

Odette has mixed feelings about Chris coming back. He’s extremely popular at school, and her classmates make a big fuss about his return. Odette compares the blank-faced Chris with her new friend Travis and loses patience with him. While Odette has her moments of selfishness, they seem to be the type of emotions experienced by a toddler, which is probably how old Odette actually is. She’s very aware of her own feelings but not tuned in to the effect her words and actions have on others. Asao again serves as her conscience when she abandons Chris. When she tells Asao that Chris doesn’t understand her, he challenges her by yelling “So do you claim you understand him?” Asao’s opinion matters the most to Odette and she begins to realize the consequences of her actions.

Odette seems to seesaw between working through teenage issues like self-image and cuteness or the issues of a young child like selfishness and being able to empathize with others. It strikes me that when Odette is contrasted with Travis, the development of the human-like qualities in the robots is a direct reflection of their creators. Travis’ creator wants to find a bride for Travis only to further his dream of developing the ideal robot. When The Professor is asked to give up Odette he reacts with the same horror a loving parent would experience if asked to give up a human baby. Since this is the next to the last volume, I’m curious to see how Suzuki will conclude this series. Karakuri Odette has always been episodic in nature, but Odette has gradually grown more emotional as the series progressed. I don’t think I’m expecting a grand exciting conclusion, but it would be nice to see Odette find some sort of peace with her half- artificial/half-human nature.

The Seinen Alphabet: Y

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“Y” is for…

The Yagyu Ninja Scrolls: Revenge of the Hori Clan (Del Rey), written and illustrated by Masaki Segawa, based on a novel by Futaro Yamada. This super-violent revenge tale is a sequel to Basilisk (Del Rey), also by Segawa, based on a novel by Yamada. It ran in Kodansha’s Young Magazine. Other manga adaptations of Yamada’s work include Yagyuujuubee Shisu (with Ken Ishikawa) and Yama Fu-Tang (also with Segawa).

Yubisaki Milk Tea (Tokyopop), written and illustrated by Tomochika Miyana, originally serialized in Hakusensha’s Young Animal. It’s about the life and loves of a young cross-dresser.


Yakushiji Ryōko no Kaiki Jikenbo, written and illustrated by Narumi Kakinouchi, based on a series of light novels by Yoshiki Tanaka, originally serialized in Kodansha’s Magazine Z, now in Afternoon. It’s about a talented police detective who investigates cases related to the paranormal.

Yama Onna Kabe Onna, written and illustrated by Atsuko Takakura, currently serialized in Kodansha’s Evening. It’s about two women, co-workers who become friends in spite of their different personalities and breast sizes. No, seriously, it is. The title apparently translates to “Mountain Woman, Wall Woman.”

Yawara! A Fashionable Judo Girl, written and illustrated by Naoki Urasawa, originally serialized in Shogakukan’s Big Comic Spirits. It’s about a naturally talented martial artist who initially hates judo because of her grandfather’s pressure to excel in the discipline.

Yokohama Kaidashi Kikô, written and illustrated by Hitoshi Ashinano, originally serialized in Kodansha’s Afternoon. Pretty much everyone in the world wonders why this slice-of-life science-fiction tale hasn’t been published in English.

Yugo, written by Shinji Makari and illustrated by Shuu Akana, originally serialized in Kodansha’s Afternoon. It’s about a master negotiator and mediator who travels the world to defuse tense hostage situations.

Yume Tsukai, written and illustrated by Riichi Ueshiba, originally serialized in Kodansha’s Afternoon. Honestly, this sounds like a seinen answer to Sailor Moon. It’s about a group of “Dream Agents” who fight physical manifestations of nightmares born of the darkness in human hearts. I couldn’t find a satisfactory cover image for it, to be honest.

Speaking of much-desired titles that have yet to be licensed, and moving on to mangaka, there’s always Fumi Yoshinaga’s first foray into seinen, What Did You Eat Yesterday?

Ryoko Yamagishi is one of the members of the Year 24 Group who has worked in the seinen category in addition to shôjo. Her seinen works include Hakuganshi.

Hideo Yamamoto is the creator of Homunculus, which is about a person who gains extra-sensory powers after a hole is drilled in his skull.

Yoshikazu Yasuhiko has had a rangy career, from early works like Dirty Pair to examinations of Joan of Arc and Jesus.

Mitsuteru Yokoyama is quite an influential mangaka, who has worked in virtually every category, from shôjo to seinen. He was a Tezuka contemporary who is credited with breaking ground in the giant robot and magic girl categories.

There are also seven million magazines whose titles start with “Young.” These include:

  • Kadokawa Shoten’s Young Ace, home to the great Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service.
  • The aforementioned Young Animal, which has hosted both wonderful and terrible manga.
  • The aforementioned Young Magazine, which seems much more traditionally seinen than Kodansha’s Afternoon, Evening and Morning.
  • And Shônen Gahosha’s Young King OURs, which seems to favor action/adventure/fantasy titles.

And “Y” is for Yen Press, which hasn’t published a ton of seinen yet, but they’ve already picked at least one potentially magnificent title in that category (Kaoru Mori’s A Bride’s Story).

What starts with “Y” in your seinen alphabet?

Honey Hunt 6

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Honey Hunt 6 by Miki Aihara

I sometimes feel like a lonely apologist for Miki Aihara, because I think of Hot Gimmick fondly due to the insane soap opera of it all, despite the horrible potentially abusive relationship the heroine ends up in. Any manga where the best match romantic for the heroine is her adopted half-brother. I don’t expect good endings from Aihara, but it is a little disappointing that Honey Hunt is on hiatus and this is the last volume that we’ll get unless she starts up the series again.

Overall, Honey Hunt is perhaps a little less irksome than Hot Gimmick, just because the main character Yura slowly seems to be moving towards standing up for herself. She’s caught between three men – her pop idol boyfriend Q-ta, A-ta’s brother and her fellow actor Haruka, and her manager. Part of the reason why I enjoy Honey Hunt so much is for the train wreck quality as Yura’s potential partners are all horrible for her in different ways. Q-ta is essentially selfish, wanting Yura to give up her promising career as an actress just to spend time with him. Haruka is much more supportive and seems to like Yura, not an image he’s projecting of her. But his inability to express his emotions causes Yura to assume that he hates her. Yura’s manager Mizorogi is the one she trusts the most, but his underhanded manipulations threaten Yura’s emotional well-being. One of my favorite moments was seeing Mizorogi’s silent and lonely agony as he realizes that Yura’s consummated her relationship with Q-ta. He slumps down in a chair with his hands to his face and says “It hurts…more than I imagined.” Then he pulls himself together and proceeds to lecture a half-clad Yura about the necessity of studying her scripts.

Haruka tries to warn Yura of Q-ta’s flightiness but she assumes that it is because he doesn’t approve of her. Mizorogi tells Yura that he approves of her new relationship only to engineer a horrible blow to Yura in order to try to get her to stop seeing Q-ta. All along, Yura’s been afraid that Q-ta is more in love with her composer father than her, and when Mizorogi gets her father to invite Q-ta over during one of the few times they’re able to go out on a date, Yura’s worst fears are realized. She’s left alone while Q-ta rushes to talk about music with her dad. Despite these setbacks, Yura does seem to be coming into her own a little bit. She’s determined to pursue a relationship with Q-ta, even when warned off. She confronts her scheming evil bitch mother when her show beats her mother’s in the ratings. She refuses to see her father when he comes back to Japan, with the reasoning that since he abandoned her, there’s no reason for her to see him now. In many ways she’s acting like a rebellious teenager, but that seems to be a fairly good mode for Yura. After coming out of the shadow of her famous parents and finding some success on her own and fulfillment in acting, it seems like she’s made some progress. But as you might expect from an Aihara heroine, any tentative steps towards self-realization are thwarted by the innate stupidity of a teenager experiencing first love.