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Ouran High School Host Club 13 by Bisco Hatori: B

November 2, 2009 by Michelle Smith

Feelings. That’s entirely what this volume is about. First, you’ve got Haruhi taking a love quiz and finally realizing that what she feels for Tamaki isn’t just admiration of his many good qualities, but actually love. Not that she’s ready to deal with that just yet, so she resolves to take his advice and start accumulating more life experience. Next, Hikaru informs Tamaki that he loves Haruhi, which sends Tamaki into a tizzy that still doesn’t result in him realizing his own feelings.

Even though I get the sense that not too much about this series is planned in advance, Hatori-sensei does at least offer a credible explanation for Tamaki’s family fixation and exactly why he may be unable to acknowledge his feelings for Haruhi. I also like how Haruhi realizes that Tamaki’s been encouraging her to be less apathetic for quite some time now and how he, who is pursuing his new career goals with much energy, has actually become her role model in a lot of ways.

This series is nothing if not lighthearted, but sometimes the side trips into comedy (or unnecessary appearances by other host club members) get in the way of the love story. Still, it’s fundamentally a warm, fuzzy, and satisfying read.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.

Welcome to Manhwa Monday!

November 2, 2009 by MJ 7 Comments

Today I begin a new weekly feature here at Manga Bookshelf: Manhwa Monday! Each week, I’ll feature a particular review or other manhwa-related post discovered online (sometimes mine, sometimes not) as well as rounding up links to all things manhwa from the previous week. I’m doing this partly to put a regular spotlight on manhwa in hopes of drawing in new readers, and partly to try to help create a sense of community around manhwa specifically–something I think is currently lacking, at least in the circles I frequent.

So, welcome to the first installment of Manhwa Monday here at Manga Bookshelf! Today I’m going to feature two reviews from the previous week–one of them mine, one not. Both are collections of short manhwa by a single artist, though they are completely different from each other. The first is Byun Byung-Jun’s Mijeong, published by NBM/Comics Lit and reviewed by me last week at Manga Recon. The second is Hee Jung Park’s Too Long, published by TOKYOPOP and reviewed by Connie at Slightly Biased Manga.

Mijeong is a decidedly melancholy collection of stories featuring mainly broken or lost characters, mired in the sorrow of their pasts. “For me, only my past has any meaning,” one character says early on, setting the tone for much of the volume. This tone, however, is not exactly sad, or at least not exclusively so. From my review: “Byun Byung-Jun’s characters are both burdened and enriched by their histories, an insight that rings inescapably true. Even when longing for the past leaves characters bleeding to death in the grass … there is an unmistakable sense of hope lingering around the edges of most of these stories—a haunting paradox that helps maintain the volume’s momentum.”

Though the collection is definitely flawed, maybe even greatly so in some places, it is filled with tangible emotion and a sense of restlessness that keeps the reader on edge throughout–characteristics I find extremely compelling in any work of fiction. Ultimately, this is a book I can enthusiastically recommend. Full review here.

On an equally enthusiastic note, Connie, who admits she is often wary of short story collections, says this about Hee Jung Park’s anthology, Too Long: “Most of the volume is quite excellent, and this is probably among the best female-oriented comic short story collection that I’ve seen … Hee Jung Park comes through once again, and once again, I’m going to lament the fact that none of her stories are coming out in English anymore. She really does seem to be one of the greats, and I would love to read more than a volume or two of her best work.”

Please read the rest of Connie’s thoughtful review over at Slightly Biased Manga. Connie reviews more manhwa than many manga-focused blogs I’ve seen, and she frequently has very good things to say about the manhwa she reads.

Weekly Roundup:

Last week saw two reviews of Yen Press’ series, Sugarholic, from Jennifer Dunbar at Manga Recon (vols. 1 & 2) and from me here (vol. 1). I also reviewed volume 1 of Full House from NETCOMICS’ online catalogue.

Manga Recon’s Mini column last week offered up three manhwa reviews, Ken Haley on volume 2 of Jack Frost, Connie C. on volume 2 of 13th Boy (a personal favorite of mine), and Jennifer Dunbar on volume 4 of Bride of the Water God.

Danica Davidson at The Comics Reporter took a look at Bride of the Water God as well, this time volumes 1-4; Tiamat’s Disciple checked out the final volume of Croquis Pop; and Lissa Patillo looked at volume 9 of The Antique Gift Shop over at Kuriousity.

Is there something I’ve missed? Leave your manhwa-related links in comments!

Ouran High School Host Club 12 by Bisco Hatori: B+

November 1, 2009 by Michelle Smith

From the back cover:
Hikaru and Kaoru’s fight over Haruhi is taking its toll on Hunny and Mori, who are trying to watch over the estranged twins. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Tamaki, Kyoya starts looking for Tamaki’s mother in France.

Review:
Three plot threads are simultaneously underway in this volume, though they converge nicely by the end. In the first, Kyoya is using the class trip to France to look for Tamaki’s mother. In the second, Kaoru and Hikaru are fighting over their feelings for Haruhi and Kaoru launches a plan to spur Hikaru into action. And in the third, Tamaki is trying to decide what he wants to do with his life, and a job offer from his dad gives him a lot to consider.

Although I like the twins and enjoyed the chapters focusing on them—wherein Kaoru rightly sees the need for him and Hikaru to establish themselves as individuals but has a rather convoluted way of going about it—the heart of this series for me will always be Haruhi and Tamaki. Tamaki has backed out on the class trip to France at the last minute, but everyone else believes he has gone. There’s a priceless scene around the middle of the book where Haruhi’s on the phone with Kyoya asking how Tamaki’s doing and then spots him lurking in front of her house. There’s a lot more to the scene than that, but I don’t want to spoil it.

Haruhi and Tamaki proceed to have a lovely scene with just the two of them, wherein he gives her license to ask anything about his childhood. He also confides in her that his desire to make people happy comes from a vow to his mother and that he’d also like to carry this oath further into a career. Haruhi’s encouragement clearly means the world to him, and it’s also clear that Haruhi admires him and is getting a bit flustered in his presence (something that completely failed to happen during an outing with Kaoru in the volume’s earlier chapters). When Kyoya is later able to report that Tamaki’s mother is doing well (sniffle alert!), Tamaki decides to embrace his place in the Suoh family and accept his father’s offer to work with a chain of hotels the Suoh corporation owns.

So here we have a volume that features several characters maturing, two reticent characters displaying fondness for Tamaki, a classic bit of comedy, and a scene that brought tears to my eyes. I guess that may not seem like much, but for a largely episodic series like this one, it really is quite a lot. It also, as someone mentions in uncredited narration, is starting to feel like the beginning of the end. I think the timing’s perfect—we’ve had quite a while to enjoy these characters in a variety of situations and now it’s time for some of them to grow up enough to realize that it’s not a bad thing if relationships evolve from their current states. From all present indicators, it would seem the ending is shaping up to be a satisfying one.

The Floating Admiral by Certain Members of the Detection Club: B-

November 1, 2009 by Michelle Smith

Book description:
In 1932, thirteen members of London’s exclusive Detection Club—including notables like Dorothy L. Sayers, G. K. Chesteron, and Agatha Christie—decided to undertake a challenging project. As Sayers writes in her introduction, “The problem was made to approach as closely as possible to a problem of real detection. Except in the case of Mr. Chesteron’s picturesque Prologue, which was written last, each contributor tackled the mystery presented to him in the preceding chapters without having the slightest idea what solution or solutions the previous authors had in mind.” Various rules were imposed upon the authors to insure they dealt fairly with the difficulties left by their predecessors, and each author was required to submit his own proposed solution of the mystery (collected in an appendix). The end product was the story of the River Whyn, which “bore so peacefully between its flowery banks the body of the floating admiral.”

Review:
When the body of retired Admiral Penistone (it took me ages to stop giggling at that name) is found drifting along the River Whyn in the vicar’s boat, the investigation, led by Inspector Rudge, focuses primarily on his tough-as-nails niece, her fiancé turned sudden husband, and a disgraceful incident earlier in the Admiral’s military career. Each of the thirteen writers throws in some other random clues as well, be they footprints, missing documents, possible forgeries, et cetera.

The result is surprisingly coherent for something with so many collaborators. Occasionally, there’s a bit of a jolt as a new hand takes over and bends events to their own interpretation, but it’s usually not too jarring (see next paragraph for an exception). One, perhaps unintended, result is that there’s more of an emphasis on explaining the meaning of strange clues than on crafting memorable characters. Rudge’s personality changes a bit in early chapters and eventually settles on simply bland. The author who finally brings a human touch to the story is Dorothy L. Sayers; I’d say her chapter’s the best of the lot and does the most to set the mystery on its ultimate path.

While most transitions are relatively seamless, one particular author, Milward Kennedy, seemingly sets out with the aim to correct what has gone before. Under his stewardship, Rudge doubts testimony he’d previously accepted and suddenly realizes, “Hey, I have a constable and a sergeant sitting around back at the boathouse. Maybe they could do something instead of me running all over the place myself.” It’s a necessary redirection, but the execution is rather awkward.

The lengthy final chapter offers a convoluted explanation for all that has gone before. It’s not really a satisfying ending—I can’t decide whether it’s ingenious or just silly—but it hangs together, at least, which is to be admired.

As a mystery and a novel, The Floating Admiral is merely okay. As an experiment, though, it’s a qualified success.

M Is for Magic by Neil Gaiman: A-

October 31, 2009 by Michelle Smith

From the back cover:
Master storyteller Neil Gaiman presents a breathtaking collection of tales for younger readers that may chill or amuse, but that always embrace the unexpected:

* Humpty Dumpty’s sister hires a private detective to investigate her brother’s death.

* A teenage boy who has trouble talking to girls finds himself at a rather unusual party.

* A boy raised in a graveyard makes a discovery, and confronts the much more troubling world of the living.

Review:
In the style of Ray Bradbury, who collected selected short stories for a younger audience into the anthologies R Is for Rocket and S Is for Space, Neil Gaiman presents M Is for Magic. Most of the stories are available in other compilations—namely Smoke and Mirrors and Fragile Things—but there are a few exceptions. The stories cover a wide variety of topics, from fairy tails to Arthurian legend, from graveyard denizens to awkward teens, and employ a variety of styles, like the hard-boiled detective narrative of “The Case of the Four and Twenty Blackbirds” or the story-within-a-story structure of “October in the Chair.”

I don’t consider myself much of a fan of short stories, so it was no surprise when some of these failed to thrill me. The aforementioned hard-boiled story was not a favorite, for example, since I don’t much care for that genre and stories that try to be clever by citing lots of fairy tales irritate me for some reason. I also found “Sunbird,” the tale of an Epicurean club in pursuit of meat they’ve not yet tasted, to be rather long and boring, even though its ending very nearly made up for that.

Some, though, are really great, and I’ll take them in ascending order of awesomeness.

1. “How to Talk to Girls at Parties”
Shy Enn and his more suave friend, Vic, are on their way to a party, but they’ve left the directions behind. They end up finding a party, though it’s not the one they’d wanted, and Vic encourages Enn to chat up some girls, which he tries to do. This story’s fantastic twist is that each girl seems to be the embodiment of a concept, like “the universe” or “poetry,” but it also works as a metaphor for how incomprehensible the world of girls can seem to an inept teenage boy. I particularly like the bits where one girl is going on about being an alien tourist or something, and the whole time Enn’s just wondering if he should dare to put his arm around her.

2. “Troll Bridge”
At the age of seven, a young boy encounters a troll who announces his intention to eat the boy’s life. The boy bargains for his release, promising to return once he has experienced more of life. The boy encounters the troll twice more and the culmination of their final meeting is great. I admire that Gaiman allows the protagonist of this one to be a bit of a jerk, offering his first love to the troll in exchange for himself and eventually realizing that he’s incapable of loving anyone. As in “How to Talk to Girls at Parties,” Gaiman works human truth and keen observations into his fantastic works.

3. “Chivalry”
A widow makes a weekly pilgrimage to the Oxfam shop, and one day picks up a golden goblet that would look swell upon her mantel. Shortly thereafter, she’s visited by a knight on horseback, who claims to be Galahad on a quest for the Holy Grail. He offers many treasures in exchange for the grail, but none would look so fine upon the mantel in the widow’s eyes, so she refuses. Eventually, he tempts her with a fruit that would promise eternal youth and, wanting him to go away, she finally accepts some very powerful stones that would make lovely knicknacks and sends him away. I love this one for the subtlety of the widow’s reaction to the promise of the fruit and her quiet decision to resist it and continue to pursue her quiet existence.

4. “October in the Chair”
The first description of this story that comes to mind is “bloody brilliant.” We begin with a gathering of the twelve months of the year, sitting around a bonfire and telling each other stories. Each month has got a particular personality, like February, who’s a stickler for the rules, or April, who’s both cruel and sensitive. When it’s his turn, October, who is in charge this month, tells a story of a boy who’s teased by his brothers, runs away and encounters a ghost, and then possibly chooses to live a ghostly life himself. October’s story has no definitive end, which may bother some, but I thought both tales were excellent. The concept itself is supremely creative, too, and reminds me a bit of the Sandman comics.

Even though there were a few stories that didn’t do it for me, on the whole, the collection is so good that I’ll probably be checking out the compilations from which these stories were selected. I guess if anyone could make me into a short story fan, it’d be Neil Gaiman.

The Witches by Roald Dahl: A

October 30, 2009 by Michelle Smith

From the back cover:
Grandmamma loves to tell about witches. Real witches are the most dangerous of all living creatures on earth. There’s nothing they hate so much as children, and they work all kinds of terrifying spells to get rid of them. Her grandson listens closely to Grandmamma’s stories—but nothing can prepare him for the day he comes face-to-face with The Grand High Witch herself!

Review:
Though I’ve counted Willy Wonky and the Chocolate Factory among my favorite movies for 25 years now (side note: holy crap, I am so old), I’d never actually read any of Roald Dahl’s books before The Witches, though I own several. Rest assured that I shall now be rectifying this deplorable failing forthwith.

The Witches is the story of an unnamed boy who loves to listen to his grandmamma’s tales about witches. She tells him all about how to spot a witch (even when she’s masquerading as an ordinary woman) as well as their burning desire to exterminate children, and so the boy is well able to realize his predicament when a holiday in Bournemouth coincides with the annual meeting of all the witches in England. Trapped in a ballroom with the witches as they discuss a cunning plan to turn all the children in Britain into mice, he is eventually found out and turned into a mouse himself.

Does the story end there? No, it does not. He and his grandmamma (Dahl does love these grandparent/grandkid pairings, doesn’t he?) execute a cunning plan of their own, save the children, and end up with a new quest to keep them busy for the rest of their admittedly limited life spans.

What a perfect children’s book! It’s certainly imaginative, and comes with many amusing illustrations by Quentin Blake. It avoids familiar pitfalls, like a tedious interim wherein the mouse-boy must struggle to make himself understood by humans; Dahl dispenses with this entirely by allowing the mouse to speak normally. It doesn’t shirk from darkness—the boy remains a mouse and, as such, his life expectancy is dramatically reduced. And lastly, it’s just plain riveting, for an adult as well as a kid.

Sometimes children’s fiction just doesn’t click with me, even if I like the concept, but that wasn’t a problem whatsoever with The Witches. No wonder Dahl is so beloved; turns out he’s earned every bit of it.

Vampire Knight 5-7 by Matsuri Hino: B

October 30, 2009 by Michelle Smith

Vampire Knight is a series with a plot that makes sense while you’re reading it, but is difficult to summarize in a coherent manner. In these three volumes, the story moves away from Zero and his angst to focus more squarely on Yuki, who is increasingly more insistent upon uncovering her missing memories. She correctly surmises that Kaname is hiding things from her and confronts him several times, only to have him evade the question. Meanwhile, whenever she attempts to remember on her own, she experiences blood-drenched hallucinations. Her visions get progressively worse, prompting Kaname to whisk her away at the end of volume seven with the words, “It’s time to wake up… before you go mad.”

Other things are going on in the background: political factions in the vampire world are at odds over their government, with some wanting to restore the monarchy (which would make Kaname king) and others in support of the senate; Zero is suspected of killing a pureblood vampire, but is not actually the culprit; Ichiru, Zero’s brother, enrolls at Cross Academy with the apparent goal of doing something nefarious to Yuki; and, most importantly, a rival heir to the Kuran lineage awakens and inhabits the body of his son, currently attending the school. This last personage is shaping up to be the main villain of the piece, and it’s likely that Kaname has taken various steps to both up his own power and increase Yuki’s status amongst his brethren (by acknowledging her as his lover, he essentially guarantees her a vampire guard) all in order to protect her from this creepy foe.

As it has progressed, the story of Vampire Knight has become increasingly engaging, and I think it’s pretty safe to say that I’m addicted by this point. Zero has stabilized somewhat—a drink of Kaname’s blood, offered solely for Yuki’s sake, has stalled the progress of his insanity—while Kaname has grown both darker and more vocal about his feelings for Yuki, declaring his love for her outright at one point. Hino has also stopped writing scenarios in which Yuki blindly rushes into a dangerous situation and then promptly requires rescue. In these three volumes, it only happens once. These factors combine to make Kaname’s feelings for Yuki more believable, thus enabling me to be more invested in their interactions, which are growing progressively more sexay. I wouldn’t say yet that I actually like Yuki, but at least I no longer feel the desire to grab her by the shoulders and shake vigorously.

The art continues to be gorgeous, dark and gloomy and full of beautifully despondent boys. Hino’s also adept at cliffhangers; the one at the end of volume seven is the most suspenseful yet. While it may not be the best shojo series in existence, Vampire Knight offers an appealing blend of angst and gloom that has me hooked.

Mijeong

October 30, 2009 by MJ Leave a Comment

I have a new review over at Manga Recon this morning featuring Byun Byung-Jun’s Mijeong, a collection of short manhwa with a decidedly melancholy tone. This is the artist’s second published anthology and though the work still feels immature, it is clearly something special. For my full thoughts on the subject, read my review, but I’ll share here the last sentence which really sums up my feelings about this work. “Simultaneously dark and hopeful, Mijeong’s inconsistency and fretful tone may betray the early weaknesses of its creator, but its insight and uncommon beauty promise much greater things to come.”

I dearly hope that releases like this one will help push forward the publication of more and varied manhwa in English. Despite the medium’s 100 year history we still see so little of it here and I, for one, want much, much more!

Short Takes: Haunted House, Mermaid Saga, and School Zone

October 29, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

Boo! This week, I’m taking the highly imaginative step of writing about spooky manga. The twist? All three titles are penned by trailblazing female artists. First up is Mitsukazu Mihara’s Haunted House (Tokyopop), a comedy about a normal teen whose parents have clearly embraced Addams Family Values. Next on the agenda is Rumiko Takahashi’s Mermaid Saga (VIZ), an older series that mixes horror and folklore to good effect. (You can read the first chapter for free at the Shonen Sunday website.) And last but not least is Kanako Inuki’s School Zone (Dark Horse), a three-volume series about a school built atop a cemetery — always a bad idea, kids, even when the land is being offered at bargain-basement prices.

HAUNTED HOUSE

BY MITSUKAZU MIHARA • TOKYOPOP • 192 pp. • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+)

Remember that brief but excruciating period in your adolescence in which everything your parents said, did, or wore proved horribly embarrassing? Sabato Obiga, the hero of Haunted House, is living through that very stage. The crucial difference between his experience and yours, however, is that his family is genuinely odd: they look and act like something out of a Charles Addams cartoon, from their dramatic attire — Mom dresses like Morticia Addams, Dad like an undertaker — to their penchant for ghoulish pranks. Though Sabato desperately wants to date, his family members do their best to sabotage each new relationship by staging ridiculous scenes in front of his girlfriend du jour. In the first chapter, for example, Mom blithely picks up the family cat and announces that she’ll be “cooking something special on account of our guest,” while in a later chapter, his parents don hockey masks for a visit to the video store where he works. (Note to fellow animal saps: no cats were harmed in the making of this comic.)

…

Ghoul Trouble by John Passarella: B-

October 29, 2009 by Michelle Smith

From the back cover:
Something wicked has been preying on Sunnydale students—and whatever it is, its methods are pretty gruesome. Buffy locates some human bones that have been picked clean, and knows that she’s dealing with an unearthly evil. Some help from the Scooby Gang would be ideal, but they’ve run into trouble of their own. Oz and Xander are literally (perhaps unnaturally) mesmerized by a hottie new chick band headlining at the Bronze, and Willow has been captured by Sunnydale’s latest resident carnivores.

What they need is the Slayer. But in order to help her friends, Buffy must first dust a vampire—one that has an urgent interest in Joyce Summers, the unique ability to resist sunlight, and an open invitation to the Summers’ house…

Review:
I don’t think I even read the back cover blurb when I found this used several years ago. I think I just liked the goofy title and bought it on that fact alone. It certainly doesn’t sound very promising, does it? It turns out, though, that it’s actually pretty decent.

I’ve tallied up its various attributes into two columns: flaws and merits.

Flaws:
* The story is set in season three, but it’s hard to pinpoint exactly when it occurs. Much is made of Cordelia and Xander having broken up, which would put it after episode 3.08, “Lover’s Walk.” Willow and Oz are together, which would place it after 3.10, “Amends.” However, there’s no mention at all of why Cordelia and Xander broke up or the fact that Willow and Oz are newly reconciled, so I am uncertain. There’s no mention of Faith at all, either.

* Tying in with my first point, there’s not a lot of relationship continuity. Why not mention Xander and Willow’s illicit smoochies? There were plenty of chances, including one scene where they’re imprisoned together and she’s surprised to learn that he thinks she’s pretty. Because Wesley is nowhere in sight during scenes in the school library, this probably takes place before 3.14, “Bad Girls,” so the incident should be fresh on everyone’s mind.

* The supernatural foes are very boring. We are reminded every time we see the ghouls about their green skin and many rows of teeth, and the vampire dude, Solitaire, has cheesy affectations like leaving playing cards at the scenes of his attacks and wearing only black and red so as to represent the suits in a deck of cards. Cheesy!

Merits:
* Passarella has a really good feel for characterization and Whedony dialogue. I think it’s pretty easy to get characters like Buffy and Xander right, but when I read lines from Oz and Angel and can actually hear the characters saying them in my head, that’s a very good sign. Also, I snickered more than once.

* Action scenes are described in a manner that is easy to picture. It’s not that I enjoy details about the extent of a person’s injuries, but having a mental image of what’s going makes one feel as if one is watching an episode of the show, which I assume is the desired effect.

To sum up: the plot is dumb, but the dialogue is good. That’s not too different from many early episodes of the series, actually, and I’d ordinarily award a higher grade because of that, but Passarella really dropped the ball when it came to acknowledging the interpersonal complications among the group at this point in time. He’s written two other Buffyverse novels, both starring the cast of Angel, and I enjoyed this enough that I’ll probably seek those out as well.