Blog

The Qwaser of Stigmata, Vol. 1

August 11, 2010 by Katherine Dacey

qwaser_cover Though I frequently grouse about fanservice , I have a grudging respect for those artists who make costume failures, panty shots, and general shirtlessness play essential roles in advancing their plots. Consider Pretty Face, the story of a teenage jock who undergoes reconstructive surgery after a bus accident, only to end up looking like the girl he has a crush on (at least from the waist up). You don’t need to be a pervert to imagine how Yasuhiro Kano exploits the set-up for maximum T&A potential — even the hero gets groped and ogled, though Rando isn’t above leering at and lusting after girls himself. I loathe Pretty Face, yet I have to admit that Kano obviates the need for gusts of wind and breast-level collisions by making gender confusion such a fundamental part of his story; the fanservice may be gross and stupid, but it isn’t gratuitous.

Then there’s The Qwaser of Stigmata.

…

Pick of the Week: Days of Sehara

August 10, 2010 by MJ 1 Comment

Welcome to Manga Bookshelf’s first Pick of the Week!

This feature is exactly as it sounds–a weekly spotlight on a single manga or manhwa title. Picks may be chosen from among the week’s new releases, or whatever else I’ve been enjoying in the moment.

Buy this book – This week’s pick falls into the first category. It’s the final volume of a series I’ve followed ravenously for quite some time, Han SeungHee and Jeon JinSeok’s One Thousand and One Nights, published by Yen Press.

Though originally I declined to categorize this series as boys’ love (much like Akimi Yashida’s Banana Fish), it has certainly earned that title over the past few volumes. It also has the distinction of being one of the few in its genre I’ve ever encountered that was written by a male author.

This overtly homoerotic take on the tales of Scheherazade (“Sehara” in this retelling) is dark, violent, and melodramatic at times. It is also intensely beautiful, and one of the most tender love stories I’ve read in quite a while. My enjoyment of this series is quite well-documented, most recently in last week’s installment of Off the Shelf.

Originally published in English by ICE Kunion, the series is available in its entirety from Yen Press. Do take a look. And don’t let the unattractive cover art fool you. It’s gorgeous, through and through.

For a list of what may be shipping to your local store this week, check out new releases at Boston’s Comicopia.

Short Takes: Manga Hall of Shame Edition

August 9, 2010 by Katherine Dacey

I have a special fascination with bad manga. And when I say “bad manga,” I’m not talking about stories that are merely cliche or derivative of other, better series — for better or worse, manga is a popular medium, and popular media survive, in part, by giving audiences what they want, even if that means more of the same — I’m talking about stories so ineptly drawn, so spectacularly dumb, or so offensive that they make Happy Cafe look like Phoenix by comparison. To judge from the coverage of this year’s San Diego Comic-Con, I’m not alone in my connoisseurship of wretched books; among the most widely reported panels was The Best and Worst Manga of 2010, in which a group of seasoned reviewers singled out titles for praise and punishment. To kick off my Bad Manga Week, therefore, I thought it would be a fun exercise to look at three of the titles that made the worst-of list to see if they were truly suited for inclusion in The Manga Hall of Shame. The candidates: Orange Planet (Del Rey), a shojo farce starring one clueless girl and three hot guys; Red Hot Chili Samurai (Tokyopop), a comedy about a hero who favors spicy peppers over PowerBars whenever he needs an energy boost; and Togainu no Chi (Tokyopop), an action-thriller that proudly boasts its origins as a “ground-breaking bishonen game.”

orangeplanet1 Orange Planet, Vol. 1
By Haruka Fukushima • Del Ret • 200 pp. • Rated Teen (13+)
Haruka Fukushima specializes in what I call “chastely dirty” manga for tween girls — that is, manga that places the heroine in compromising situations, teasing the audience with the prospect of a kiss or a grope that never quite materializes because the heroine is a good girl, thank you very much. In Orange Planet, Fukushima’s sex-phobic lead is Rui, a junior high student who lives by herself — she’s been an orphan since childhood — and pays for her apartment with a paper route. (That must be some paper route, considering she lives in a modern high-rise apartment and not, say, a cardboard box.) Rui is one corner of a highly contrived love square; the other three points are all standard shojo types, from the boy next door and the hot young teacher to the mystery man from the heroine’s past.

Why any of them find her interesting is one of Orange Planet‘s great puzzles; Rui is ditzy, hysterical, and prudish, three qualities that men of all ages generally dislike in female companions. Why Rui would find any of them attractive is the series’ other, as all three boys behave like boors, popping into her bed unannounced (yes, you read that right) and offering her private “tutoring” sessions. The art is less offensive than the story, evocative of Natsumi Ando’s far better Kitchen Princess with its cast of pointy-chinned, doll-eyed characters and sparkling, rose-filled backdrops. The layouts are sloppily executed, careening from panels of awkwardly-posed bodies to extreme closeups of Rui looking terrified that one of the boys might actually lean in for a kiss. Maybe I would have found Orange Planet titillating when I was eleven or twelve, but I’d like to think that I was never quite that clueless about boys. Just sayin’.

Shameworthiness: Orange Planet earns a place in The Manga Hall of Shame for insulting girls’ intelligence with a wish-fulfillment story so slapdash it’s painful.

redhotchili Red Hot Chili Samurai, Vol. 1
BY Yoshitsugu Katagiri • Tokyopop • 196 pp. • Rated Older Teen (16+)
If you crossed Popeye with Samurai Champloo, the results might look a lot like Red Hot Chili Samurai, a labored comedy about a hot-headed swordsman who snacks on peppers — the spicier, the better — to turbo-charge his combat skills. Like all good heroes, Kokaku has a posse of fellow butt-kickers that includes Ento, a sarcastic samurai in glasses; Ran, a feisty woman who vacillates between thinking Kokaku is cute and thinking he’s an ass; and Shou, a ninja who communicates exclusively through handwritten signs, a la Louis in The Trumpet of the Swan. The four tackle an assortment of stock villains, from a yakuza thug who runs a crooked gambling parlor to a pimp who preys on vulnerable young women. Each story follows the same basic template, serving up a predictable mixture of jokes about Shou’s reluctance to speak and Kokaku’s fixation with chili peppers (“Maybe you should give those things up,” one character tells him, “You’ll get hemorrhoids, you know.”), as well as anachronistic sight gags (one character invents a Polaroid-style camera) and scratching-the-fourth-wall observations about samurai manga conventions. Clumsy, speedline-heavy fight scenes and character designs that suggest Champloo doujinshi only reinforce the bad impression left by the script, which is filled with long, airless pauses that precede every joke or snappy comeback. Take my samurai — please!

Shameworthiness: Red Hot Chili Samurai is dull and repetitive to be sure, and poorly drawn to boot, but isn’t quite cringe-worthy enough to merit inclusion in The Manga Hall of Shame’s permanent collection.

togainu Togainu no Chi, Vol. 1
By Suguro Chayamuchi and NITRO+ CHiRAL • Tokyopop • 200 pp. • Rating: Older Teen (16+)
Here are seven words that ought to strike fear into every manga reader’s heart: “Based on the ground-breaking bishonen game!” Not only is the tagline vague — what kind of game? how are bishonen involved? what makes it ground-breaking? — but it also suggests that the editorial staff couldn’t think of anything positive to say about a sci-fi adventure that ought, in theory, to appeal to folks who liked Battle Royale. Alas, Togainu no Chi plays like an ungainly mixture of slash fiction and Deadman Wonderland, depositing its pretty, vacant heroes into a future run by gangs who sponsor elaborate street-fighting tournaments. The post-apocalyptic setting is suggested primarily through dark, overly toned streetscapes filled with rubbish and crumbling pavement; one could be forgiven for thinking the story takes place somewhere under the Cross-Bronx Expressway and not a Japanese city circa “20XX A.D.” In fact, nothing about the setting really suggests the future, near or distant, save for a few cliche visual signifiers: sword-wielding characters in trenchcoats, bad guys with enormous tattoos and multiple piercings, the complete absence of daylight. The action sequences are as poorly executed as the backgrounds, a confusing mishmash of blood spatters and facial close-ups (usually as someone is yelling “Noooooo….”), while the dialogue see-saws between manly, expletive-laden exchanges and exposition-heavy speeches. Perhaps Togainu no Chi‘s biggest offense is the laziness of the storytelling; the author frequently interrupts the narrative to explain the rules of The Igura (the tournament at the heart of the story), yet it’s still not clear by the end of volume one how the game is actually played, though it does involve dog tags and playing cards. Or something like that.

About the best I can say for Togainu no Chi is that the menfolk are generically handsome, providing fanfic writers ample opportunity to pair the boys off for some manly adventures followed by some sweet, sweet lovin’.

Shameworthiness: Move that Picasso to the left — this one needs a space in the permanent Manga Hall of Shame gallery.

Short Takes: Manga Hall of Shame Edition

August 9, 2010 by Katherine Dacey

ORANGE PLANET, VOL. 1

BY HARUKA FUKUSHIMA • DEL REY • 200 pp. • TEEN (13+)

Haruka Fukushima specializes in what I call “chastely dirty” manga for tween girls — that is, manga that places the heroine in compromising situations, teasing the audience with the prospect of a kiss or a grope that never quite materializes because the heroine is a good girl, thank you very much. In Orange Planet, Fukushima’s sex-phobic lead is Rui, a junior high student who lives by herself — she’s been an orphan since childhood — and pays for her apartment with a paper route. (That must be some paper route, considering she lives in a modern high-rise apartment and not, say, a cardboard box.) Rui is one corner of a highly contrived love square; the other three points are all standard shojo types, from the boy next door and the hot young teacher to the mystery man from the heroine’s past.

…

Manhwa Monday: August Preview

August 9, 2010 by MJ 2 Comments

Welcome to another Manhwa Monday! With August already underway, it’s time to take a look at this month’s anticipated manhwa releases.

Dark Horse makes an appearance this month with volume six of Bride of the Water God, one of the prettiest manhwa series around. For a little background, check out Kate Dacey’s review of the series’ first five volumes at The Manga Critic.

With NETCOMICS remaining quiet in terms of print releases (and even web updates, lately) and most of Udon’s series on seemingly indefinite hiatus, the rest of the month goes to Yen Press. Yen does their best to fill the void with new volumes of a number of popular releases, including Goong, Sarasah, Moon Boy, Black God, and the dramatic final volume of One Thousand and One Nights.

For anxious readers, reviews of some of these volumes have already started to turn up online. At Manga Maniac Cafe, Julie deems volume 8 of Moon Boy, “… the best installment so far,” and states that she’ll be “counting the days until Volume 9 hits stores.” …

All You Need Is Kill

August 9, 2010 by Ash Brown

Author: Hiroshi Sakurazaka
Translator: Alexander O. Smith
U.S. publisher: Viz Media
ISBN: 9781421527611
Released: July 2009
Original release: 2004

I really don’t remember exactly when and where I first heard about Hiroshi Sakurazaka’s All You Need Is Kill but after I did it seemed to keep popping up everywhere I looked. It was even picked up by Warner Brothers to make into a live-action film. All You Need Is Kill was originally published in Japan as a light novel in 2004. The English edition, translated by Alexander O. Smith, was one of the very first books to be released by Viz Media’s Haikasoru imprint in 2009. I haven’ read much military science fiction but All You Need Is Kill certainly is that, complete with alien intelligence and battle suits. What particularly caught my interest in the novel was that the main character, Keiji Kiriya, dies during his first battle only to wake up in his bunk thirty hours before over and over again.

The battle on Kotoiushi Island would be pivotal in humanity’s war with the Mimics. If lost, the rest of Japan would follow, along with the technology that made it possible to fight against the constantly evolving invading force. Keiji is a Jacket jockey in the United Defense Force’s 301st Armored Infantry Division which was sent to reinforce the island. He doesn’t even make it through his first battle. Or his second. Or his third. Somehow stuck in a time-loop he is forced to live and die in the same battle again and again. The only thing he can do is learn to fight a little better and hope to survive a little longer each time. Rita Vrataski, member of the U.S. Army Special Forces, has killed more Mimics than any other person in the world. Known as the Full Metal Bitch, not that anyone would call her that to her face, she is formidable, efficient, and scary as hell on the battlefield. She is also one of the last hopes remaining to end the war and may be the only person who can help Keiji escape his fate.

Although All You Need Is Kill is primarily entertainment and not overly serious, Sakurazaka still works in some environmental, technological, and social commentary. At least for me, the story also had a convincing emotional impact. Repeatedly living through the horrors of war, your own death, and the death of your friends and those around you changes a person and Sakurazaka captures this quite well. I like Keiji a lot and was most interested in his story, told in the first person. The third quarter of the book, written in the third person, focuses on Rita and the background of the war with the Mimics. While interesting and certainly important, especially in understanding Rita and her history, I still looked forward to getting back to Keiji. Which is not to say that I didn’t like Rita, because I did. I liked most of the secondary characters as well; Keiji’s bunk-mate and veteran Yonabaru in particular amused me as much as he tended to annoy others in his platoon. I also appreciated the fact that not everyone was assumed to be straight (although pretty much all of them were.)

The translation Smith has done for All You Need Is Kill is great–it’s straightforward with a good flow that hits hard and fast. There is also a nice use of repeated phrases to emphasize the time-loop that Keiji’s stuck in. The original light novel was illustrated by Yoshitoshi ABe and it’s a pity that none of his art was included in the Haikasoru edition beyond the cover–I really would have liked to have seen more of his work. I enjoyed All You Need Is Kill even more than I was expecting to and was impressed by how much action and story Sakurazaka was able to fit into such a relatively short work (it comes in at just under 200 pages.) I’m really looking forward to picking up his only other work currently available in English, also released through Haikasoru, Slum Online.

The Color Trilogy

August 8, 2010 by MJ Leave a Comment

At Manga Bookshelf’s Off the Shelf, Michelle Smith and I discuss Kim Dong Hwa’s Color trilogy (The Color of Earth, The Color of Water, and he Color of Heaven) published in English by First Second. Here’s an excerpt from the discussion:

MJ: Let’s get right to the meat of things. There’s been a lot of discussion among critics about whether or not this series is inherently sexist. Michelle, I’d like to start with bringing up a statement you made in your recent review of The Color of Heaven:

“I know that the limited scope of life for a woman in this time and place is historically accurate, and that for a mother to say, “There is nothing better in life than getting married” reflects a period where marriage provided the ultimate in protection for a woman … To be honest, I think a large part of my ire is due to the fact that The Color Trilogy is written by a man. If a woman wrote these things, I’d still be annoyed, but coming from a male author I can’t help but read such statements as downright condescending. Try as I might to view these attitudes through a historical lens, I’m simply unable to get over my knee-jerk reaction.”

First of all, I wouldn’t characterize your reaction as knee-jerk at all. I think what you’re reacting to (and I mentioned this in comments, but I’ll reiterate it here) is not the story’s historical context, but the author’s own sexism which he reveals in the way he portrays the realities of the period. My immediate thought upon finishing the series was that I found it inexpressibly sad. Ehwa’s mother spends almost the entire series teaching her daughter about what a woman’s life is in their world and helping her learn how to endure a lifetime of waiting and heartache that can only be relieved by the companionship of a beloved man. And I suspect there is quite a bit of historical accuracy in this sense of utter helplessness and lack of worth placed on a single woman in that period.

But despite the bleakness of their circumstances, Kim portrays it all with a loving nostalgia. Even when expressing the sadness and longing felt by Ehwa and her mother as they wait for their men, he portrays it all as beautiful and even romantic. This isn’t matter of being true to the period. These are Kim’s own values being revealed here, and that’s what we’re reacting to. The same story could be told without that veil of fond nostalgia and it would read very, very differently. If this series had actually been written during that time period, that would be different matter as well, but Kim is a contemporary writer, and as such, he’s responsible to contemporary readers for the story he’s chosen to tell and how he tells it.

Read the full discussion here.

Weekend Quick Takes

August 8, 2010 by MJ 2 Comments

Welcome to Quick Takes at Manga Bookshelf, a new weekly feature, offering brief opinions of recent releases, particularly (but not exclusively) mid-series volumes of ongoing manga. We begin this week with releases from Del Rey Manga, Bandai Entertainment, Viz Media, and Dark Horse Manga.

Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei: The Power of Negative Thinking, Vol. 6 | By Koji Kumeta | Published by Del Rey Manga | Rated OT (16+) | Buy this book – The eternal challenge of a gag comic, of course, is to remain funny time and time again. And perhaps the additional challenge faced by a gag manga (especially in translation) is to continuously engage readers despite the fact that nothing ever really happens.

Western fans of manga (and this reviewer is no exception) have generally been lured into the medium by the promise of epic drama, romance, or adventure. How can a multi-volume series of stand-alone jokes ever hope to compete?

If any series has a chance, it’s this one. Six volumes in, this series funnier than ever. And though the humor remains sharp, its heavy reliance on culturally-specific jokes has declined just enough to satisfy even its early skeptics (or so one would hope). Highly recommended.

Read previous reviews of this series.

Lucky Star, Vol. 4 | By Kagami Yoshimizu | Published by Bandai Entertainment | Rated 13+ | Buy this book – Speaking of gag manga, perhaps the toughest sell of all to western manga fans is the 4-koma, a 4-panel style of manga similar to newspaper comic strips in the west. Despite widespread acclaim for Kiyohiko Azuma’s Azumanga Daiho, 4-koma manga in general has had a fairly dismal track record among western readers.

Enter Lucky Star, a 4-koma manga that happens to be the basis for an insanely popular anime series of the same name. Given that fact, licensing the manga should have been a no-brainer. Sadly, Bandai’s early releases were marred by a nearly-unreadable translation that sucked all potential humor from this slice-of-life comedy.

Fortunately, those days are over. Though Lucky Star‘s otaku-focused humor may still be an acquired taste, translator William Flanagan (brought on to the project beginning with volume three) displays its charms to their greatest advantage, giving the series new life in the western market. For fans of the anime series, this volume is a must-buy. And for everyone else, it may finally be worth giving a try.

Read previous reviews of this series.

Kimi ni Todoke: From Me To You, Vol. 5 | By Karuho Shiina | Published by Viz Media | Rated Teen | Buy this book – With Sawako now aware of her feelings for Kazehaya, this series is finally able to focus on romantic feelings between some of its other characters, which adds extra depth to this volume and even to Sawako, who is able to get out of her own head enough to actually notice what’s going on. Also, Chizu and Ayane meet Sawako’s parents in this volume, which is worth the cover price all on its own.

As awesome as Sawako is as a character, this series’ greatest strengths rely heavily on the richness of its supporting characters, so it’s nice to see them get some dedicated “screen time” this time around.

This series is exceptionally slow-moving, even for a shojo romance manga, yet it still manages to be increasingly satisfying, chapter after chapter. Though this volume lacks the intensity of volume four’s bitter romantic rivalry, its quiet drama is considerably more poignant than anything the series has offered so far. It is, undoubtedly, my favorite yet. Recommended.

Read previous reviews of this series.

Okimono Kimono | By Mokona (CLAMP) | Published by Dark Horse Manga | Buy this book – Perhaps the most important thing to note when discussing Okimono Kimono is that though it is written by CLAMP’s Mokona and released specifically by a manga publisher, there is very little manga in this book. In fact, the short manga included near the end of this volume is perhaps its least interesting aspect overall.

That said, what this volume does offer is a beautiful introduction to the world of the kimono, highlighted by some of Mokona’s personal wardrobe as well as a few of her own designs. Manga fans unfamiliar with the conventions of kimono will be easily enticed by designs inspired by characters from xxxHolic (a kimono featuring the full wrath of the pipe fox is a personal favorite).

Mokona’s original designs offer a pleasant transition into the later depictions of more traditional kimono, some of which are likely to appear overly-busy and jarring to the western eye. A transcribed conversation between Mokona and Puffy AmiYumi’s Onuki Ami is a real treat, too, as Mokona indoctrinates Ami into the ways of the kimono.

Though CLAMP fans may be disappointed with this book’s lack of manga offerings, there is much to please anyone interested in a modern look at traditional Japanese dress.

Check back next weekend for more Quick Takes, here at Manga Bookshelf!

Review copies provided by the publishers.

The Best Manga You’re Not Reading: ES: Eternal Sabbath

August 6, 2010 by Katherine Dacey

Back in June, Brigid Alverson, Robin Brenner, Martha Cornog and I gave a presentation at the American Library Association’s annual conference called “The Best Manga You’re Not Reading.” Our goal was to remind librarians that manga isn’t just for teens by highlighting fourteen titles that we thought would appeal to older patrons. Response to our presentation was terrific, so I decided to make “The Best Manga You’re Not Reading” a regular feature here at The Manga Critic. Some months I’ll shine the spotlight on something obscure or out-of-print; other months I’ll feature a title that you may have heard about (or even read) because I think it has the potential to appeal to readers who aren’t necessarily mangaphiles. This month’s title — ES: Eternal Sabbath (Del Rey) — was one of Brigid’s picks, a sci-fi manga that she felt had strong visuals and a suitably creepy atmosphere. I couldn’t agree more, so I decided to revise an old review from my PopCultureShock days to explain why you ought to read this trippy, thought-provoking story about the perils of cloning and extrasensory perception.

ES: ETERNAL SABBATH, VOLS. 1-8

BY FUYUMI SORYO • DEL REY • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+)

The vivid images that haunt us when we sleep seem like perfect fodder for art, yet we often produce dream-inspired work that’s much goofier and far less potent than our nocturnal imaginings: think of Salvador Dali’s unabashedly Freudian dream sequence in Spellbound (the one false note in an otherwise great thriller), or John Fuseli’s heavy-handed symbolism in The Nightmare (in which a Rubenesque sleeper is tormented by a ghostly horse and an incubus, the ultimate Romantic two-fer). These images fail to shock because they seem too mannered, too staid — in short, too neat, failing to capture the subconscious mind’s ability to juxtapose the banal with the fantastic. In ES: Eternal Sabbath, however, manga-ka Fuyumi Soryo (best known to American readers for the shojo drama Mars) steers clear of the cliches and overripe imagery that reduce so many dreamy works to kitsch, producing a taut, spooky thriller that reminds us just how weird and terrifying a place the mind can be.

The first volume of ES introduces us to Shuro, a young man with the ability to read thoughts. Shuro uses the information he gathers from other people to impersonate their friends and family members, wiping their memories clean when he tires of the situation. His aimless routine is upended by a chance encounter with neuroscientist Mine Kujyou, who spots Shuro sauntering past a brutal crime scene in a state of utter indifference, as if he knew what was about to transpire. Her researcher’s instinct piqued, she begins to track Shuro’s movements, initiating a game of cat-and-mouse that quickly escalates into psychological warfare.
In a plot twist that would surely please Fox Mulder, a researcher from a clandestine government laboratory arrives on the scene, Smoking Man-style, to explain that Shuro is, in fact, a clone, created by scientists on the hunt for the “eternal sabbath,” a.k.a. eternal youth, gene. (The psychic powers powers are a happy by-product of the experiment.) Shuro escaped from his creators with fellow clone Isaac, an even more powerful, less scrupulous mind reader with a destructive agenda. Mine must then decide whether to assist Shuro and Isaac’s creator in re-capturing the wayward clones, or to allow Shuro to disappear back into the shadows and resume his impostor life of borrowed memories and feigned emotions.

To be sure, many of ES: Eternal Sabbath’s themes are science fiction staples: do scientists have an ethical obligation to treat engineered life forms with the same care as humans? Are there realms of knowledge and experience that cannot be quantified or explained through modern science? That such tried-and-true questions inform but never overwhelm the narrative is testament to Soryo’s storytelling skills. She creates a small, intimately linked cast whose conflicting desires, insecurities, fears, and friendships dramatize the series’ overarching theme, what does it mean to be human?, while underscoring the poignancy of the clones’ liminal status. (Isaac, as his name suggests, was intended as a sacrifice; his creators raised him for the sole purpose of studying and dissecting him.)

If her storytelling chops are strong, Soryo’s life drawing skills are not. Her character designs have a languid quality that makes them seem oddly placid in scenes fraught with conflict. Where Soryo shines are the dream sequences, which are visceral and unsettling. Some of the symbols she employs — horses, thorns — are familiar from television and movie dreams, yet the way in which she orchestrates these dreams is not, as she captures the peculiar rhythm and logic of a nightmare. One of the most effective sequences occurs right at the beginning of the series: a large insect emerges from a disturbingly organic mass that suddenly shatters into hundreds of living, moving pieces. The strangeness of the image, the abrupt shift in mood, the blurry line between inanimate and animate objects — these feel like an authentic product of the subconscious, and not a Freudian rebus to be decoded by the audience.

I could cavil about a few details (the translation is rather flat, as are Soryo’s pre-fab backgrounds), but on the whole, this eight-volume series has few wasted pages. The story moves at a brisk clip without sacrificing characterization or common sense; the art suggests the workings of the subconscious mind without silliness; and the ending is genuinely moving and surprising. Science fiction fanatics will find much to like here, as will horror buffs and readers who like the idea that women can kick butt in the sciences, Lawrence Summers and evil clones be damned.

This is an updated version of a review that appeared at PopCultureShock on 6/22/2008. The Best Manga You’re Not Reading is an occasional feature that highlights titles that aren’t getting the critical attention — or readership — they deserve. Click here for the inaugural column; click here for the series archive.