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Fullmetal Alchemist, Volume 20

October 4, 2009 by MJ 1 Comment

Fullmetal Alchemist, Vol. 20
By Hiromu Arakawa
Published by Viz Media

Falling victim to a double-cross, Envy tracks down Dr. Marcoh, only to walk into a trap that ultimately reduces him to his original, pre-humanoid form. “I know more about making philosopher’s stones than anyone else in the country,” says Dr. Marcoh, hanging mangled and bloody from Envy’s horrific tongue. “But because I know how to make them, I also know how to destroy them!” Afterwards, Scar entreats May to take the now-powerless Envy back to her country for study on immortality, though Envy does what he must to increase his chances of survival. Al, Winry, and the others then head out to the city of Lior, where Al is reunited with Rose as well as his father, Hoenheim, who finally shares the truth about himself, including a piece of information vital to the upcoming conflict. Meanwhile, Major General Briggs discovers the terrifying truth hidden in the bowels of Central City, and Ed–now recovered from his injuries–fails utterly to track down Al’s whereabouts, though he does encounter another long-lost companion with whom he forges an unlikely alliance.

This volume feels a bit like the calm before the storm. After the constant barrage of earth-shattering revelations contained in the past few volumes, Arakawa steps back to focus on relationships, but with an uneasy, anticipatory feel running like a strong current through each chapter. Not that this volume is lacking in new information, by any means. Both Briggs’ discovery and Hoenheim’s confession provide new insight into the homunculus’ ultimate plan, but these revelations seem intended to inform the characters rather than the reader, maintaining the story’s momentum at a strong, tense simmer, preparing itself to rise to a boil. That there is still a long way go to seems obvious, but during the volume’s final chapter, as a piece of key information spreads across Amestris from character to character, it feels very much like a final call to arms.

May’s story here is particularly poignant. Having become so much a part of the personal quests of some of the Amestrian characters (Scar’s and Al’s, in particular), her deep hurt in being urged to return home, even for the sake of her own people, is obvious and extremely touching. Arakawa emphasizes this by drawing her from angles which make her appear especially small, vulnerable, and occasionally off-kilter. With similar effectiveness, Arakawa also uses angles to help distinguish between the wildly erratic variations in the mental state of Greed, who is caught in an internal struggle between himself and Lin, whose memories still lurk within.

As a reader, the ground is always shaky whenever Ed and Al are apart from each other, adding to the mounting tension in this volume. Though it seems like the end must surely be near, this is a series that has never lost its momentum regardless of length, which makes me feel extremely reluctant to ever let it go. Fortunately I don’t have to just yet.

For long-time readers of the series, volume twenty provides further insight into characters both loved and hated, and continues to play out the complex plot so powerfully conceived from the series’ first volume. For everyone else, the time to start reading is now.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

To Love and Be Wise by Josephine Tey: B-

October 2, 2009 by Michelle Smith

From the back cover:
The advent of Leslie Searle was not a particularly fortunate happening for the village of Salcott St Mary. The American photographer possessed an almost inhuman beauty, and his presence aroused a variety of violent emotions in the small community. Then, one spring night, he disappeared close to the river. A case of missing, presumed drowned, one would assume. When Detective Inspector Grant is sent to the village, he is not short of murder suspects. But a far greater puzzle confronts him: Leslie Searle has vanished like someone performing the Indian rope trick in an English meadow…

Review:
To Love and Be Wise takes place in an isolated village called Salcott St Mary, in which something of a celebrity enclave has sprung up. An American photographer, Leslie Searle, is introduced into this society and quickly ruffles some feathers by perpetrating a few snubs and getting on too well with a woman who’s already engaged to be married to a rather self-important BBC commentator. When Searle goes missing after a public argument with said BBC chap, Inspector Grant is called in to investigate.

After the genuine enjoyment offered by The Franchise Affair, the previous book in Josephine Tey’s Inspector Grant series, this next installment comes as something of a disappointment. The biggest problem I have with it is that, in places, it can be very, very dull. It takes quite some time for the characters to become distinct and longer still for Searle to finally disappear. Eventually, it does grow somewhat more interesting, and though I had suspected something like the solution, I hadn’t expected it in quite the right way.

My favorite segments are actually those in which Grant consults with his actress friend, Marta, and values both her insights as well as her cool head in an emergency. It reminded me a little bit of Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane—not that the characters are at all similar, but it’s the same idea of the contented bachelor detective finally finding a woman who captivates him not with her beauty but with her wits. I hope we see Marta again!

All in all, I found the book to be a pleasant enough diversion. It’s certainly not going to show up on anyone’s Top 100 or even Top 500 list of the best mystery novels, but it’s far from the worst I’ve read.

Nabari No Ou, Volume 2

September 30, 2009 by MJ 1 Comment

Nabari No Ou, Vol. 2
By Yuhki Kamatani
Published by Yen Press

Buy This Book

In the aftermath of the first volume’s attack by the enemy clan Grey Wolves, Miharu and his companions recover in care of the Fuuma, many of whom were lost in the conflict. With the Banten shinobi having no official leader, Kotarou Fuuma, leader of his clan, assumes control and assigns teacher Kumohira and his young charges to retrieve (or steal, if necessary) the forbidden arts belonging to each of the other remaining clans. Though revelations about the motives and methods of the Fuuma leave Miharu even less sure of who to trust, he eventually finds himself feeling some sense of responsibility and even friendship towards would-be samurai Ramei and classmate Koichi. This volume’s major drama, however, is left for its final chapter, in which Miharu is offered alliance by an extremely unlikely source.

After the suspense and high action of this series’ first volume, the second begins slowly, churning out additional exposition without quite enough momentum to sustain it. Fortunately, this volume’s final chapter is thrilling enough to make up for early shortcomings, bringing real tension back into the story as well as highlighting the complexity and pathos behind Miharu’s carefully practiced apathy.

This volume takes pains to deepen the backstories for much of the series’ supporting cast, though most of these characters remain weak in comparison to the story’s most compelling characters–Miharu and deadly human weapon Yoite. Both of these characters possess potentially lethal abilities that endanger their own lives in one way or another, and it is fascinating and sad to witness the blatant sense of entitlement their respective shinobi clans appear to feel regarding their powers. That the clans have gravely overestimated their ability to control these two boys seems obvious, but it is yet unclear just how dearly this miscalculation might cost them or the boys themselves.

Though pacing is a weakness in this volume, even the least urgent chapters succeed in terms of dramatic content, thanks to Kamatani’s frequent use of close-ups and full-page images which give just the right weight to exactly the right moments. That a sense of stillness would be one of the greatest strengths of a manga that is ostensibly intended as an action series may sound a bit strange, but that is absolutely the case here. This quality plays a great part in creating the dark, moody atmosphere of the series, which remains one of my favorite aspects of it overall.

With its complex anti-hero and melancholy feel, Nabari No Ou‘s second volume ultimately overcomes its somewhat uninspired early chapters to maintain its position as my favorite new shonen series so far this year.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Return from NYAF & a Manga Mini!

September 29, 2009 by MJ Leave a Comment

I’m finally back from NYAF, though it’s off to work straight away! I’ll be writing up coverage over the next couple of days but in the meantime, you can check out my review of the third volume of Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei in yesterday’s Manga Minis column. This is a series many people have issues with in terms of how well it translates due to frequent in-jokes and obscure cultural references that are unlikely to be understood by western readers. Though this volume is probably the most difficult so far in that sense, I still found it readable and extremely enjoyable.

I had a great time at the convention and I have a lot to say about it, so stay tuned!

Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei: The Power of Negative Thinking, Vol. 3

September 28, 2009 by MJ Leave a Comment

By Koji Kumeta
Del Rey, 176 pp.
Rating: OT (16+)

In this volume, eternally despairing schoolteacher Nozomu Itoshiki and his students address gross-out contests, the power of storytelling, amakudari, school cultural festivals, omikoshi (portable shrines used during festivals), mistakes, class trips, hibernation, and yaminabe, each, of course, with a satirical eye. The yaminabe (dark hot pot), for instance, becomes a “yaminabe of the heart,” made up of all the students’ darkest secrets; the trip Itoshiki’s class takes is only a preview of the trip; and the class’s participation in the school’s cultural festival is crafted to adhere to the Japanese constitution’s guaranteed “minimum standards” of cultural living.

Though this volume perhaps exceeds its predecessors in terms of obscure cultural references and inside jokes, it is a credit both to the mangaka and to English adapter Joyce Aurino that it is able to remain both smart and wonderfully funny, regardless of the difficulty in translation. The chapters regarding amakudari (the Japanese practice of senior bureaucrats retiring to cushy, taxpayer-supported positions) and “mistakes” are prime examples of this, with their long lists of references likely to be lost on western readers. For the most part, however, each chapter contains a pleasant balance of humor both universal and obscure, providing a satisfying reading experience along with a real sense of place.

Koji Kumeta’s artwork continues to be utterly charming, matching the crisp humor of the narrative with its clean lines and minimal use of screen tone. Though this title is not for everyone, fans of the series will find that this volume is guaranteed to please.

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

Boys Over Flowers: Jewelry Box by Yoko Kamio: B

September 28, 2009 by Michelle Smith

After Boys Over Flowers ended its serialization in 2003, Yoko Kamio published two follow-up stories—one about the wedding of Shizuka and another told from Rui’s perspective—that take place a year after the events of volume 36. These stories were released (along with some supplemental material) in 2008 as volume 37 of the series and immediately topped the shojo charts. VIZ has opted to give this volume the subtitle Jewelry Box instead.

The first story, in which Tsukushi and Tsukasa briefly reunite in France while attending Shizuka’s wedding, is a bit of a disappointment, since their first time seeing each other in a year is full of crazy derelicts trying to stab Tsukushi and Tsukasa calling her an idiot. The second story, though, is quite good, focusing on Rui and maintaining that lovely, melancholic air that he possesses. Rui is wondering whether he’ll ever fall in love again, and though he concedes that things with Tsukushi are over, there are still faint traces of his feelings remaining that spur him to do things for her that he’d do for no one else. Tsukushi and Tsukasa also meet up again in this story and, though fans are still denied an undeniably conclusive happy ending, there’s at least a strong suggestion of one.

The supplemental material is comprised of a series chronology, character growth analysis, quiz, and interview with Kamio. The chronology in particular is extremely helpful and furnished most of the facts in my first paragraph.

Fans of Boys Over Flowers shouldn’t expect anything earth-shattering in this release, but it’s worth the read and can serve as a handy resource, to boot.

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

CSI: Intern at Your Own Risk by Sekou Hamilton and Steven Cummings: C

September 28, 2009 by Michelle Smith

As part of the Las Vegas Police Department’s Outreach Program for high school students, five teenagers earn the right to serve as interns to the CSI unit. Among them is Kiyomi Hudson, who is intrigued by the murder of a classmate, Gretchen Yates. While she and her fellow interns—a creepy guy, a nerdy guy, a jock, and a rather jerky normal guy—perform their normal internly duties of watching demonstrations of forensic techniques and solving sample cases, Kiyomi also spurs them into investigating Gretchen’s death which leads to a (theoretically) dramatic conclusion.

I don’t watch CSI or any of its spin-offs, so some of the presumed appeal of this story is lost on me. Apparently, it features some characters from the show serving in an advisory capacity to the interns, but the only one I recognize is Gil Grissom. Taken only on its own merits, CSI: Intern at Your Own Risk isn’t bad, but it certainly could’ve been better.

The main problem is the disjointed nature of the storytelling, which cuts quickly between a facilities tour, a sample case, and the investigation into Gretchen’s murder. The characters are pretty stereotypical, too, and I found the identity of the culprit completely easy to guess, though not the exact nature of his or her motivation. Some of the dialogue is awkward and I had to laugh at the line “We’re on the scene of last night’s grizzly murder.” Oh no! Poor bear!

Still, now that the concept and group has been introduced, I might actually be interested in seeing the team work another case. Hopefully, if there is to be a next time, the result will be more polished.

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

Moyasimon: Tales of Agriculture, Vol. 1

September 27, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

Warning: the Surgeon General has determined that reading Moyasimon: Tales of Agriculture may be hazardous to your health. Individuals who routinely consume large quantities of yogurt, miso, or natto; keep stashes of Purell in their purses and desk drawers; or have an irrational fear of germs or dirt are cautioned against reading Moyasimon. Side effects include disgust, nausea, and a strong desire to wash one’s hands repeatedly. Those with stronger constitutions, however, may find this odd little comedy fun, if a little too dependent on gross-out humor for laughs.

Moyasimon tells the story of Tadayasu, a country boy with an unusual gift: he can see and talk to bacteria. (In other words, he’s the Doctor Doolittle of the microbial world.) At the urging of his grandfather, Tadayasu leaves his small rural village to attend an agricultural college in Tokyo, his best friend Kei in tow. Tadayasu’s abilities bring him to the attention of the eccentric Professor Itsuki, a terraforming expert, and his foul-tempered research assistant Haruka Hasegawa, a graduate student who dresses like a dominatrix. Though they wax poetic about the scientific applications of Tadayasu’s gift, the pair seem more intent on making fermented delicacies — the smellier, the better — than actually conducting experiments. Also vying for Tadayasu’s attention are Misato and Kawahama, two sad-sack sophomores who reach out to him after bacteria compromise one of their numerous get-rich-quick schemes: bootleg sake.

Tadayasu, for his part, finds the attention unsettling. His dearest wish is to have a normal college experience, a desire frustrated by his family’s refusal to send him anywhere but an agricultural school. He also feels ambivalent about his gift. On the one hand, he understands its life-saving potential after thwarting an e-coli outbreak (he overhears the microorganisms rallying around the cry of “Brew ‘n’ kill!”); on the other hand, his microscopic “Spidey sense” makes many everyday activities — shaking hands, eating yogurt, visiting a messy dormitory room — agonizing, as he’s keenly aware of the bacteria’s presence. (In one of the story’s running gags, Tadayasu swoons whenever he visits Misato and Kawahama’s foul bachelor pad, a veritable bacteria playground of half-consumed beverages, dirty dishes, and fetid mattresses.)

hasegawa The humor is good-natured, though Masayuki Ishikawa indulges his inner ten-year-old’s penchant for gross-out jokes every chance he gets.He repeatedly subjects Tadayasu and Kei to Itsuki’s food fetishes, forcing them to watch Itsuki exhume and eat kiviak (a fermented seal whose belly has been stuffed with birds), or try a piece of hongohoe, a form of stingray sashimi so pungent it makes their eyes water. Ishikawa’s decision to render the bacteria as cute, roly-poly creatures with cheerful faces prevents the story from shading into horror, though it’s awfully hard to shake the image of bacteria frolicking in a bed of natto or around the slovenly Misato’s nostril.

Where Moyasimon really shines is the artwork. Ishikawa’s layouts are detailed yet clear and easy to follow, giving the reader a strong sense of the college and its shabby environs. Ishikawa’s character designs are similarly effective, whether he’s drawing an L. yogurti bacterium or an unscrupulous professor. Take Misato and Kawahama. The two are a classic Mutt-and-Jeff duo: Misato is tall with a scruffy beard, a greasy ponytail, and weasel eyes, while Kawahama is short and round with a dirty face. When we first meet them, we immediately recognize them as a pair of sweating, scheming losers whose big dreams yield little returns. Hasegawa provides another instructive example of how design can play a critical role in establishing character. She’s prickly and aggressive, personality traits amplified by her unusual choice of labwear — knee-high boots with dozens of buckles and sky-high heels, studded belts, and a leather miniskirt — her sharp facial features, and her preferred accessory: a scowl.

Though the art is solid and the characters firmly established, Moyasimon hasn’t quite found its groove yet. Ishikawa can’t make up his mind if he wants us to admire the diversity and tenacity of bacterial life or squirm at the thought of its ubiquity; every educational speech about bacteria’s numerous benefits is punctuated by an icky rim shot. Still, it’s hard to deny the odd appeal of Moyasimon, as Ishikawa takes an all-too-familiar trope — the teen who sees things that other people can’t — and gives it a fresh, idiosyncratic spin.

MOYASIMON: TALES OF AGRICULTURE, VOL. 1 • BY MASAYUKI ISHIKAWA • DEL REY • 224 pp. • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+)

Moyasimon: Tales of Agriculture, Vol. 1

September 27, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

Moyasimon1_Cover Warning: the Surgeon General has determined that reading Moyasimon: Tales of Agriculture may be hazardous to your health. Individuals who routinely consume large quantities of yogurt, miso, or natto; keep stashes of Purell in their purses and desk drawers; or have an irrational fear of germs or dirt are cautioned against reading Moyasimon. Side effects include disgust, nausea, and a strong desire to wash one’s hands repeatedly. Those with stronger constitutions, however, may find this odd little comedy fun, if a little too dependent on gross-out humor for laughs.

…

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson: B-

September 24, 2009 by Michelle Smith

From the back cover:
Four seekers have come to the ugly, abandoned old mansion: Dr. Montague, an occult scholar looking for solid evidence of the psychic phenomenon called haunting; Theodora, his lovely and lighthearted assistant; Eleanor, the lonely, homeless girl well acquainted with poltergeists; and Luke, the adventurous future heir of Hill House.

At first, their stay seems destined to be merely a spooky encounter with inexplicable noises and self-closing doors, but Hill House is gathering its powers and will soon choose one of them to make its own.

Review:
The Haunting of Hill House is considered a classic of the horror genre, but honestly, I found it to be a mite snoozeworthy. I think the main problem is me. I’m a desensitized reader in the 21st century, far more difficult to shock and frighten, I assume, than the typical reader in 1959, when the book was published.

It’s the story of four people who gather to spend a summer at the supposedly haunted Hill House and report on paranormal activity there. Eleanor, a lonely woman who’s spent a sheltered decade caring for her ailing mother, quickly emerges as the protagonist, and early on displays a tendency for fanciful ramblings, as each time she passes a picturesque spot on her drive to Hill House, she concocts a story about how she has lived there and lovingly cared for the stone lions flanking the drive, et cetera.

Upon arrival, she quickly makes friends with the other female in the group, Theo. They bond during various terrifying (to them) supernatural disturbances, but the friendship is tested when the house begins to exert its power over Eleanor. It’s subtle at first, but by the end Eleanor is quite taken over by the place and the ending, though rather predictable, is great.

Besides my not finding any of the events truly creepy, Eleanor herself is the primary reason I didn’t enjoy the book more. Even before she begins to be affected by the house, she’s annoying, with a non-stop inner dialogue of self-doubt and worry about what others thought of her that really got on my nerves. Worse than Eleanor is Dr. Montague’s wife, whom I absolutely hated. Thankfully, she’s only present at the very end; I wonder why her odious presence was deemed necessary at all.

In the end, there are elements of the story that I liked and ones that I didn’t. But that’s okay; it’s never a waste of time to read a classic!