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Full House, Volume 1

October 27, 2009 by MJ 5 Comments

Full House, Vol. 1
By Sooyeon Won
Published by NETCOMICS

Ellie is a young, independently-minded, Oxford educated screenwriter living in London, far from her native Korea, on an estate called Full House, left for her by her recently deceased father. Having given up on romance with her childhood friend Felix, who became frustrated with her lack of interest in a physical relationship, Ellie is content to live the life of a single career woman in the house she so loves. Her happy existence is disrupted, however, when she is evicted from the house by its new owner, scandal-ridden matinee idol, Ryder Baye. Following her eviction, Ellie lingers on a street corner, pondering her future and vowing to complete the screenplay she holds in her hands. A gust of wind blows the pages into the street, and as Ellie struggles to gather them up, her foot is run over by a passing car, the driver of which turns out to be none other than Ryder Baye.

With Ryder already embroiled in scandal, he and his handlers pamper Ellie in the hospital, hoping to keep the accident out of the news. In a burst of anger and desperation, Ellie suggests that Ryder marry her so that she can recover ownership of her home, an idea which–much to her surprise–is pounced upon eagerly by Ryder’s manager, Miranda, who is anxious to prove that Ryder is not gay. Finally agreeing to a false engagement with a guarantee she can return to Full House (which she will share with Ryder, whom she hates), Ellie begins her new life in the public eye, for better or worse.

Though the setup is classic and so far predictable, Full House has a number of things working strongly in its favor. First of all, Sooyeon Won is delightfully wordy, crafting pages of pithy banter between determined enemies Ellie and Ryder as well as long pieces of narration that read more like a novel than a comic. Though this is the same style responsible for the deliciously overwrought melodrama of her well-known boys’ love series, Let Dai, here it reads as stylish romance with a vintage theatrical feel. Ellie’s quick wit and sharp tongue make her an unconventionally appealing heroine, more interested in her career than her appearance or any other traditionally feminine concerns. Ryder is thoroughly enjoyable as her foil, whose only goals are to do his work and carry on his affairs without hassle. That he is especially drawn to the house that Ellie would do anything to keep gives them one piece of common ground, though this romantic comedy is guaranteed to be volatile for a good long time before either of them recognize it.

Another point in this series’ favor is NETCOMICS’ English adaptation, which reads surprisingly well, even capturing a genuinely British feel in the dialogue, something that is helped along significantly by the decorous third-person narration that accompanies much of the volume. Not having read any of the volumes of this series released by its former licensee, Central Park Media, I can’t compare the two, but considering NETCOMICS’ poor early track record with translation, it seems important to mention how nicely they’ve done with this series so far.

Sooyeon Woo’s art, though not as detailed or beautiful to look at as her work on Let Dai, has a light, sketchy feel that complements the breezy tone of the series, aided further by her playful paneling which keeps the pace brisk despite the abundance of dialogue. Both art and dialogue look clean and crisp in NETCOMICS’ online reader, even at its lower-resolution setting, and even the smallest text is readable against the series’ backgrounds, something that can’t be said for Let Dai.

Despite its questionably believable plot and obvious setup, this series has enough spark and energy behind it to easily propel readers into its second volume. Its fast-paced banter and classic romantic comedy feel make Full House an appealing new addition to NETCOMICS’ manhwa catalogue.

Volume one of Full House is available from NETCOMICS online.

Sugarholic, Volume 2

October 26, 2009 by MJ 2 Comments

Sugarholic, Vol. 2
By Gong GooGoo
Published by Yen Press

Buy This Book

Thanks to the power of guilt and her desperate need for cash, Jae-Gyu finds herself being reeled in by Whie-Hwan’s proposal that she pose as his girlfriend for a month. Meanwhile, childhood “friend” turned pop idol Hee-Do is dreamy-eyed over a photo of himself with Jae-Gyu, snapped by a fan during their recent encounter (to the extreme dismay of his handlers). Unfortunately, things continue to be difficult for Jae-Gyu in this volume as she faces her new life in the big city. First, she is easily lured into a quasi-prostitution scenario by some unscrupulous coworkers of her friend Hyun-Ah. Later, her brother’s borrowed apartment falls through, leaving her on her own. With all circumstances leaving her more and more dependent on Whie-Hwan for her survival, Jae-Gyu begins to feel a bit attached, but is she in over her head?

Nothing earth-shattering or even truly unexpected happens in this volume, yet the story’s characters remain quirky, charming, and generally fun to read about, which is definitely its primary draw. Jae-Gyu’s childlike tactlessness and oddly random sense of responsibility make her a unique heroine even within a common manhwa mold, and Whie-Hwan’s frequent loss of cool keeps him from fully becoming a genre cliché. It is Hee-Do, however, who provides true mystery in this series with a personality that, at least at this point in time, is just too weird to unravel. This is not a liability by any means. Though his single-minded devotion to Jae-Gyu (who is apparently still anticipating some kind of revenge) is undoubtedly a tad creepy, it is also inexplicably sweet. Lingering over the cell phone photo of himself with Jae-Gyu running away from him he muses over how little the photo does her justice, thinking, “You’re the kind of person who sparkles most when you’re moving.” He’s a character who lives so completely in his head it’s astounding that he’s able to function in the world at all, let alone as a public figure, which may be the secret to what makes him so fascinating.

Further insight into Whie-Hwan’s past is still too vague to be quite compelling in this volume, though it certainly promises future intrigue. The same could be said for the brief sidestep into the story of Jae-Gyu’s brother, which fades into the background all too quickly. Yet, even without major plot development, the volume maintains momentum, thanks to its messy, likable characters.

Though so far lacking the heavily addictive quality of Goong or One Thousand and One Nights or even the fantastic strangeness of 13th Boy, Sugarholic remains a fresh, fun addition to Yen Press’ lively lineup of girls’ manhwa titles.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Manga Artifacts: Domu: A Child’s Dream

October 25, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

Revisiting AKIRA prompted me to re-read Domu: A Child’s Dream, an earlier work that helped cement Katsuhiro Otomo’s reputation as the leading manga-ka of his generation. Though both series include elements of horror and science fiction, the two are utterly different in approach: AKIRA is sweeping, grand, and allegorical, whereas Domu is compact, a taut psychological thriller that unfolds in a mere 230 pages.

Domu begins like a police procedural: an older detective and his hot-headed young partner arrive at a Tokyo apartment complex to investigate a series of deaths. Though the victims’ histories suggest foul play rather than suicide, the detectives are baffled by the crime scenes: all of the victims have jumped off rooftops or slashed their own throats, with no evidence of anyone watching or aiding them. A few tantalizing clues lead investigators to “Old Cho,” a seemingly benign, senile resident who spends most of his time sitting on a bench and muttering. Inspectors Yamagawa and Tamura can’t connect Cho to the crimes, but Etsuko, a stolid little girl who has just moved into the complex, knows how Cho killed them: telekinesis and hypnotic suggestion.

What follows is an intensely creepy cat-and-mouse game between Etsuko and Cho. Though Cho is nominally an adult, his mind is terrifyingly child-like; he kills his neighbors for their “treasures”: a baseball cap with wings, a fake ruby ring, an umbrella, a stuffed toy. Cho initially regards Etsuko as an impediment to his fun, but when he discovers that Etsuko can also move objects with her mind, he begins testing her strength and sense of morality. Their battle begins in the narrow hallways and dim elevator shafts of Etsuko’s building, but quickly consumes the entire complex as Cho attempts to annihilate Etsuko.

domu_page

Though I found the artwork for AKIRA a bit dated, a relic of a particular moment in sci-fi history, Domu seemed less mired in the 1980s. The characters are refreshingly realistic in their appearance; Cho actually looks like an eighty-year-old man, with a stooped frame, a deeply-etched face, and liver-spotted hands, while Etsuko’s plump cheeks and slightly awkward proportions seem appropriate for an eight-year-old. Otomo lavishes similar attention on his bit players, too, giving each apartment dweller a distinctive look that speaks volumes about his economic status, age, and fear of being swept up in Yamagawa and Tamura’s murder investigation. Even the apartment complex functions as a kind of character, a sterile collection of high-rise buildings whose imposing exteriors give way to dark, dingy interiors and cramped apartments. As Otomo guides us through its labyrinthine hallways and stairwells, we feel a palpable sense of dread; the complex is filled with the kind of dead ends and blind spots that feature prominently in our worst nightmares.

Domu would be a solid, if not remarkable, thriller on the strength of its artwork alone, but Etsuko’s predicament gives the story an added jolt of energy and terror. She’s the strongest, most adult character in the story, the only one with a clear sense of what’s happening, and the only one powerful enough to stop Cho. Making her plight more compelling is the fact that Etsuko behaves like an eight-year-old who just happens to have a deadly gift, rather than a god-like creature who just happens to be eight years old; she’s small and vulnerable, eager for the comfort of her mother’s arms, but she’s also fiercely moral and incredibly brave in the face of nightmarish events, a child whose natural desire to set things right is cruelly tested by a childish adult.

N.B. Domu has been out of print for several years, though copies are relatively easy to find through eBay and Amazon’s extended seller network. Dark Horse released Domu in several formats, including three slim TPBs and an omnibus edition.

DOMU: A CHILD’S DREAM • BY KATSUHIRO OTOMO • DARK HORSE • NO RATING (RECOMMENDED FOR OLDER TEENS)

Domu: A Child’s Dream

October 25, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

domu1 Revisiting AKIRA prompted me to re-read Domu: A Child’s Dream, an earlier work that helped cement Katsuhiro Otomo’s reputation as the leading manga-ka of his generation. Though both series include elements of horror and science fiction, the two are utterly different in approach: AKIRA is sweeping, grand, and allegorical, whereas Domu is compact, a taut psychological thriller that unfolds in a mere 230 pages.

domu_page

DOMU: A CHILD’S DREAM • BY KATSUHIRO OTOMO • DARK HORSE • NO RATING (RECOMMENDED FOR OLDER TEENS)

Oh! My Brother 1 by Ken Saito: B-

October 23, 2009 by Michelle Smith

Masago Kamoguchi is a normal girl: normal looks, normal grades, and normal athletic ability. But normal isn’t good enough for Masago when she’s constantly being compared to her older brother, Shiro, who is smart, good-looking, popular, and someone who draws people to him wherever he goes. As the story begins, Shiro is leading the student council in preparations for the school’s Cultural Festival and Masago is keeping a relatively low profile. All of that changes when Shiro dies saving Masago’s life and his consciousness somehow ends up sharing his sister’s body. Assuming that the incomplete plans for the festival are the “unfinished business” keeping Shiro around, Masago (with some oratorical assistance from her brother) convinces the remaining members of the student council to put aside their grief and make the festival a success in his honor. The students do just that, and though Shiro doesn’t move on as a result, that’s okay with Masago, who has decided she likes having him around.

The name Ken Saito might be familiar to some as the creator of The Name of the Flower. I like that series a lot, so I’d been looking forward to Oh! My Brother ever since the license acquisition was announced. Unfortunately, I found it to be somewhat of a disappointment. There are quite a few characters introduced all at once, and their various reactions to Shiro’s death—stemming from unrequited love or unfulfilled soccer rivalry—lack poignancy when we’ve only just met them; the tone is inconsistent, with the comedic aspect of the body-sharing predicament vying with teary moments for dominance; and I literally groaned aloud when the first page revealed the series was entering well-trod school festival territory already. Also, the relationship between the siblings is kind of icky at times: seriously, who blushes furiously when their brother gives them a peck on the cheek?

That isn’t to say it’s without good moments or the potential for a compelling story. When the successful completion of the festival fails to free Shiro’s spirit from this earthly plane, Masago realizes that his unfinished business is actually her and that his wish is for his sister to live life more fully. Of course, one of the ways in which she might do this is by allowing her feelings for Shiro’s friend, Kurouma-sempai, to flourish (and most likely be reciprocated), a path that Shiro seems determined to thwart by taking control of her body any time he thinks they’re getting too close. This dichotomy in Shiro’s intentions is interesting; I hope it’ll be explored later in the series. Also, it’s always completely clear which sibling is in control of Masago’s body at any given time, either by mannerism, expression, or dialogue. That can’t have been easy to achieve.

Artistically, Oh! My Brother has a cute style, though it’s a little too sketchy sometimes, particularly where light-haired characters are concerned. There’s one panel in particular in which a wispy-looking Masago appears right next to a solid-looking, dark-haired Kurouma-sempai. Perhaps there’s actually some deep symbolism going on here—she’s not fully here while he’s got both feet firmly on the ground?—but I rather doubt it. Also, there are a few errors in CMX’s script, a “your” that should be a “you’re,” and a “thoese” that should be either a “those” or a “these,” but definitely not both at once.

Ultimately, while I am slightly disappointed in this first volume, I plan to continue reading. Maybe this one just needs a little time to grow.

Oh! My Brother is published by CMX. The series is complete in Japan with four volumes, though only one has been published in English so far.

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

AKIRA, Vol. 1

October 22, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

My first exposure to Katsuhiro Otomo came in 1990, when a college boyfriend insisted that we attend a screening of AKIRA at an artsy theater in the Village. I wish I could say that it had been a transforming experience, one that had awakened me to the possibilities of animation in general and Japanese visual storytelling in particular, but, in fact, I found the film tedious, gory, and self-important. Little did I imagine that I’d be reviewing AKIRA nineteen years later, let alone in its original graphic novel format.

I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Otomo’s epic tale works better on the page than it does on the screen, though it’s easy to see why Otomo felt the lengthy motorcycle chases and fight scenes were swell fodder for a movie. Ditto for the setting: what artist wouldn’t want the chance to rebuild a city as complex and ultra-modern as Tokyo from the ground up?

The story, however, demands the more intimate medium of print, as those chases and fights seem urgent and kinetic on the page, an essential tool for drawing the reader into the story, rather than an opportunity for the animators to dazzle audiences with their technical prowess. The story’s setting works better in print as well; the city feels feels more claustrophobic when rendered in black and white than in color. And the story’s length, too, is a factor; the movie compresses over 2,000 pages of material into two hours, trimming some of the manga’s more interesting subplots and secondary characters in order to accommodate the explosions and high-speed chases, and grossly simplifying the relationship between Tetsuo and Kaneda. As in the movie, neither personality is firmly established before Tetsuo begins morphing from juvenile delinquent to god-like psychopath, yet the manga gives each character more room to be, and not just react. As a result, both seem human and vulnerable, more teenage boys than action figures.

The basic plot has held up well. Its paranoid, don’t-trust-the-military vibe seems as resonant in 2009 as it did when the manga was first released in 1982, as does its message about the devastating consequences of WMDs. Watching China prepare for the Beijing Olympics in 2008 — leveling shanty towns, silencing protests — suggested parallels with AKIRA‘s own Olympic subplot, both in the secrecy surrounding the facilities’ construction and in the government’s adamant denial of citizen opposition to the projects.

The artwork hasn’t aged quite as gracefully as the story; it’s the manga equivalent of a mullet, betraying its early eighties roots. Otomo’s backgrounds and weaponry look liked they’ve been traced from The Star Wars Storybook, exuding the same mixture of sterility and rust that was a hallmark of period science fiction, while his characters have thick bodies and pudgy faces, just like the heroes of Tsukasa Hojo’s manga. Yet it’s hard to deny AKIRA‘s visual appeal. Otomo is one of the few artists who can make a chase or an explosion seem like it’s actually happening on the page, thanks to his ability to convey what I call the “geography” of the scene: how big the space is, how high off the ground it is, how far apart the characters are standing. The sound effects are almost superfluous, as Otomo does such a superb job of showing us how the characters move through the space that one can almost hear the whoosh! and vroom! as they fly past.

If you didn’t finish collecting AKIRA when it was still a Dark Horse property, you can round out your set without compromising its appearance on your shelf; the Kodansha edition is virtually identical, save for the logo on the spine. (No, really: it’s the same translation, same trim size, same cover design, and same price as the 2000 version.) And if you haven’t read it yet? Well, now’s your chance to read one of the medium’s greatest sci-fi epics in a nice, oversized package. Recommended.

Review updated on October 5, 2010.

AKIRA, VOL. 1 • BY KATSUHIRO OTOMO • KODANSHA • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+) • 368 pp.

AKIRA, Vol. 1

October 22, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

akira_cover My first exposure to Katsuhiro Otomo came in 1990, when a boyfriend insisted that we attend a screening of AKIRA at an artsy theater in the Village. I wish I could say that it had been a transforming experience, one that had awakened me to the possibilities of animation in general and Japanese visual storytelling in particular, but, in fact, I found the film tedious, gory, and self-important. Little did I imagine that I’d be reviewing AKIRA nineteen years later, let alone in its original graphic novel format.

I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Otomo’s epic tale works better on the page than it does on the screen, though it’s easy to see why Otomo felt the lengthy motorcycle chases and fight scenes were swell fodder for a movie. Ditto for the setting: what artist wouldn’t want the chance to destroy and rebuild a city as complex and ultra-modern as Tokyo?

The story, however, demands the more intimate medium of print, as those chases and fights seem more urgent and surprising on the page than on the screen. The story’s setting works better in print as well; the city feels feels more claustrophobic when rendered in black and white than in color. The story’s length, too, is a factor; the movie compresses over 2,000 pages of material into two hours, trimming some of the manga’s more interesting subplots and secondary characters in order to accommodate the explosions and high-speed chases. More significantly, the film grossly simplifies the relationship between principal characters Tetsuo and Kaneda, reducing Tetsuo’s transformation from juvenile delinquent to god-like being to a mere plot device. The manga, however, gives each character more room to be, and not just react; as a result, Tetsui and Kaneda seem like real teenage boys, not generic action figures.

Plot-wise, AKIRA is still as topical as ever. Its paranoid vibe seems as resonant in 2009 as it did when the manga was first released in 1982, as does its message about the devastating consequences of weapons of mass destruction. Watching China prepare for the Beijing Olympics in 2008 — leveling shanty towns, silencing protests — suggested parallels with AKIRA‘s own Olympic subplot, both in the secrecy surrounding the facilities’ construction and in the government’s adamant denial of citizen opposition.

The artwork hasn’t aged quite as gracefully as the story; it’s the manga equivalent of a mullet, betraying its early eighties roots. Otomo’s backgrounds and weaponry look liked they’ve been traced from The Star Wars Storybook, exuding the same mixture of sterility and rust that was a hallmark of period science fiction, while his characters have thick bodies and pudgy faces, just like the heroes of Tsukasa Hojo’s manga. Yet it’s hard to deny AKIRA‘s visual appeal. Otomo is one of the few artists who can make a chase or an explosion seem like it’s actually happening on the page, thanks to his ability to convey the “geography” of the scene: how big the space is, how far apart the characters are standing. The sound effects are almost superfluous, as Otomo does such a superb job of showing us how the characters move through the space that one can almost hear the whoosh! and vroom! as they fly past.

Review updated on October 5, 2010.

AKIRA, VOL. 1 • BY KATSUHIRO OTOMO • KODANSHA • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+) • 368 pp.

Picks for Right Stuf’s DMP Sale!

October 21, 2009 by MJ 5 Comments

Like many of you I’m a sucker for a sale and though I missed the recent sale on Vertical books while I was out of town (*snif*) I’ve perked up a bit over this week’s specials at rightstuf.com from Digital Manga Publishing, whose eclectic mix of titles (on sale through tomorrow, October 22nd) offers something for everyone. Taking a look at my review index, I realize I’ve actually reviewed very few of these, but my recommendations are as hearty as ever!

At the top of my list are a couple of titles from the brilliant Fumi Yoshinaga, Antique Bakery and Flower of Life, both wonderfully quirky series as only Yoshinaga can produce. She has a great gift for painting her characters through dialogue that is uniquely hers and it is this that draws me most to her work. Also, she’s funny–really, really funny, yet simultaneously poignant and frequently deep. If that alone is not enough to sway you, check out Michelle Smith’s lovely review of Antique Bakery and Shaenon Garrity’s hilarious overview of Flower of Life. As Shaenon says at the end of her write-up, “Thank you, Fumi Yoshinaga, for continuing to be better than everyone!” …

xxxHOLiC, Vol. 14

October 20, 2009 by MJ Leave a Comment

By CLAMP
Del Rey, 192 pp.
Rating: T (13+)

With a quiet life restored thanks to her wish, Kohane gives her mother the space necessary for her to gain an understanding of how she must change by moving in with the fortune-teller from volume two, who will also take the opportunity to pass on her craft to Kohane. While visiting, Watanuki teaches Kohane to cook and Doumeki reveals to Kohane the reason behind his friendship with Watanuki. As they walk home later that evening, Watanuki startles Doumeki with a confession (no, not that kind) of his own. Back at the shop, a new customer arrives—a young woman with a wish to obtain cooking lessons. Watanuki is (unwillingly) tasked with fulfilling her wish, which gives him some unexpected insight into both Doumeki’s eating habits and the individual nature of cooking.

Though this volume proceeds more quietly than the last, it is filled with wry humor and thoughtful revelation, two of the series’ best qualities. Also notable in this volume is a strong sense of warmth, something that has increasingly become a part of the series. This is particularly evident in each character’s relationship with Watanuki—from Yuuko to the fortune-teller—including even dry-humored characters like Doumeki and Mokona (with whom Watanuki shares an especially sweet moment in this volume). It is the connection between people that makes this series feel so rich, a point made stronger in this volume when Watanuki reveals that it is these connections that have inspired him to continue his own existence. As usual, this volume also provides enough mouth-watering discussion of food to send every reader running to the kitchen (or at least the nearest Japanese restaurant).

With its gorgeous artwork and philosophical tone, xxxHOLiC continues to provide a feast for both the eye and soul.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.

The Daughter of Time by Josephine Tey: A

October 20, 2009 by Michelle Smith

From the back cover:
Confined to a hospital bed, Scotland Yard’s Inspector Grant is engrossed with a portrait of Richard III. How is it possible, he wonders, that such a sensitive-appearing soul could have been the odious villain, the Wicked Uncle responsible for the murder of his own nephews to secure the British crown for himself? Grant reconsiders 500-year-old evidence and brilliantly arrives at a compelling new answer to one of the most intriguing mysteries in history: who really murdered the Princes in the Tower.

“For truth is rightly named the daughter of time, not of authority.” – Sir Francis Bacon

Review:
After an embarrassing accident, Inspector Grant faces an extended convalescence in a hospital bed. Helpfully minded friends have dropped off some novels, but they hold no appeal. It’s only when Grant’s friend Marta, knowing his interest in faces, brings by a selection of historical portraits that the irksome prickles of boredom begin to fade. Particularly captivating is the portrait of Richard III, whose sensitive expression speaks more of illness and suffering than the villainy for which he is chiefly remembered. His police instincts roused, and together with a research assistant (also supplied by Marta) to do the necessary leg work, Grant sets about proving whether Richard III really did murder his nephews as history claims.

Ever since reading Sharon Kay Penman’s The Sunne in Splendour, I’ve had an interest in Richard III and, if pressed, would count myself among those who believe in his innocence. The Daughter of Time comes to the same conclusion, eschewing the hearsay accounts that fill the history books—often penned by historians from the Tudor years who did not like to write too favorably about the Plantagenets—in favor of contemporary sources and, when that isn’t available, a basic understanding of human nature. Taking it one step further, Grant examines the question of who had the most to gain by the princes’ deaths, and ends up making the case that Henry VII was ultimately responsible.

The wealth of historical information required to make these points is presented in a way that’s anything but dry; on the contrary, I found it fascinating. What makes The Daughter of Time so great, though, is that the storyline in the present is also fun. In what other novel does the protagonist spend the whole of the book confined to bed, his mind challenged and engaged but his body immobile? Anyone who ventures into Grant’s room is liable to be subjected to questioning on the topic of Richard III, and indeed, it’s a member of the hospital staff whose change in opinion regarding the much-maligned monarch is the first triumph of the inspector’s efforts.

Now that I’ve read something so pro-Richard, I feel the need to achieve a balanced view by reading an account that casts him as the murderer. Look, therefore, for a review of Alison Weir’s The Princes in the Tower in the near future.