One of my favorite quotes so far from this month’s Manga Moveable Feast comes from David Welsh, as he describes why Wild Adapter is, in his words, “bathtub manga.” “Well,” he says, “it’s partly because, empirically good and ambitious as Wild Adapter is, it doesn’t wear its quality on its sleeve. It gives you the opportunity to believe that you’re indulging in a guilty pleasure, even though you’re actually seeing a spectacular piece of craftsmanship.”
David has a habit of writing brilliant things I wish I’d come up with myself, and this observation definitely belongs in that category. He’s absolutely right. One of the things that makes Wild Adapter so enjoyable to read is that it creates a sense of decadent self-indulgence while actually delivering Damn Good Comics. As a result, the experience is completely satisfying, even after the initial glow of frivolity has passed.
With this in mind, I give you this week’s 3 Things…
3 guilty pleasures in Wild Adapter that aren’t so “guilty” after all:
1. Cracktastic plotting. An emotionally detached youth is drawn into the yakuza, only to become unintentionally involved with a mysterious drug that turns its users into mad, hairy beasts, ultimately leading him to adopt a part-man, part-beast to whom he becomes deeply (but ambiguously) attached. Later, the two of them accidentally fight crime. Sounds crazy, doesn’t it? And yeah, it totally is. Thing is, all the craziness is so firmly rooted in emotional truth that it somehow actually works. What should be completely unbelievable becomes fantastically believable, leaving readers free to ride high on the adrenaline created by its outrageous, violent adventure, without worrying about a painful crash later on. Minekura writes crazy, but she’s solid to the core, and so is Wild Adapter.
2. Stunning sensuality. Despite this series’ fairly minimal sexual content, it is one seriously sexy manga. I mean, really, really sexy, and that’s not a characteristic I’d attribute to many series, including those that contain a lot of nudity and/or sex. Most deliberately sexy manga are hardly sexy at all, at least in my experience. Of course, what’s sexy about Wild Adapter isn’t actually the sex at all, most of which amounts to small-time crooks getting it on with women they had to pay, or skeevy yakuza bosses coercing their underlings into special service. None of that is what makes this series so sexy, and that’s part why its sensuality maintains itself so well. Minekura creates her manga’s super-sexy aura with superb characterization and an incredible sense of style, without having to rely on less reliable elements like revealing clothing or heavy bedroom action.
3. Boys’ love. Good romance is incredibly difficult to write (with or without explicit sex involved), and though there is plenty of good romance available in the English-language BL market, it’s also full to overflowing with examples of all the ways in which romantic fiction can fail. As a result, it’s a genre that gets little respect among critics, even those who recognize the the real worth of romantic fiction. It’s telling, I think, that TOKYOPOP chose to release Wild Adapter as part of their mainstream line of manga, rather than on their BL imprint, BLU. On one hand, this decision makes good business sense and reflects Wild Adapter‘s wide appeal. On the other, it clearly demonstrates that while TOKYOPOP may have believed that non-BL fans might buy Wild Adapter, they did not for a moment believe that they would buy it with a BL label.
In yesterday’s roundtable, Michelle, David, and I spent some time discussing the ways in which Wild Adapter does and does not conform to common BL tropes. And while it’s true that the series lacks many of the elements that frequently characterize “BL,” what it doesn’t lack is actually the thing I read BL for in the first place, and that would be love between boys. Though Wild Adapter does not contain the worst of the BL genre, it does contain the best, and both Minekura and the genre deserve credit for that. So while I am certainly adamant that non-fans of BL should give Wild Adapter a try, that’s not because the story isn’t BL. They should read it because it’s really good BL, and people should know what that looks like.
Readers, got any “guilty pleasures” that really aren’t guilty at all?
1. Bleach | Tite Kubo | Viz Media – At this point, I suppose I know more fans who have stopped reading Tite Kubo’s shounen battle epic than those who have kept on, but for my part, I’m actually a little surprised. While it’s absolutely true that I tend to find its long battle sequences tragically uninteresting, the point at which I dropped the series (after
2. Otomen | Aya Kanno | Viz Media – Otomen is a series that has left me tormented. On one hand, it’s absolutely brilliant. I mean really, truly, a gorgeous piece of work. But much like one of Kate’s drop-ees, Detroit Metal City, a person could die waiting for something to actually happen. These series are like old-school television sitcoms. Though at any moment it might seem like something significant could happen, changing its characters’ lives in truly dramatic ways, everything is back to normal by the end of the episode, with everyone safely returned to exactly where they started. As brilliant as the series’ premise is, it’s failed for me as long-form storytelling, and unless there’s going to be some genuine forward motion in plot or characterization, I’m loathe to give it more of my time.
3. Pluto | Naoki Urasawa/Osamu Tezuka | Viz Media – This dropped series is the saddest of them all, because I had no intention of dropping it at all. And though I understand how it happened, I’m not sure how to get back on track. Back in July of 2009, I wrote an entry called
1. Nodame Cantabile | Tomoko Ninomiya | Del Rey Manga | Classical Music – While I know at least one classical musician who despises this manga, as a former classical voice student, this series evokes memories of what I loved most about my college years, when I was surrounded by other students just as serious about music as I was. For me, coming from high school in the depressed midwest, this was actually pretty novel, and definitely inspiring in a whole lot of ways. What perhaps works so well for me here, is that my own personality as a young music student was pretty much equal parts ambitious Chiaki and free-spirited Nodame. My relentless drive was weirdly balanced by hippie-like clothing and a persistent absence of shoes, something that drove at least one of my studio teachers absolutely crazy. It was actually my experience with her that convinced me to avoid a career in opera. I really, really didn’t like wearing shoes.
2. Swan | Ariyoshi Kyoko | CMX | Ballet – Unbelievably, I’ve only read one volume of Swan, and one of my greatest fears at this point is that I’ll miss picking up the others, now that CMX is no more. Though I never was a real dancer despite years of classes (lack of physical discipline & wrong, wrong body type), I spent quite a bit of my youth obsessed with ballet, and spent no small amount of my “spare” cash buying tickets to ABT performances during my NYC years. For me, reading Swan is a natural extension of my teenaged fixation with
3. Honey and Clover | Chika Umino | Viz Media | Visual Art – I suppose it’s a little tragic that the type of art that provides me with the greatest mystery is also the inspiration for the series on this list that has (so far) taught me the least about its characters’ vocation. I expect its later volumes may focus more heavily on career, but as I’ve (shockingly) just begun the series, I’m so far mainly lured by its delicious soap-opera. Regardless of how it plays out, however, I suspect there is no manga on earth powerful enough to help me understand how visual artists do what they do–that is how magical it is for me. Even as a music student, I learned early on that I would never create true beauty with my hands, no matter how much I tried and practiced. My voice was the only thing I could ever make real music with… the only instrument I could ever command with my own will. 







1. The Fangirling – From
2. The Bafflement – Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I’m baffled why a series like KimiKiss (pictured to the right) was published, or even why it might be popular. A buxom teen removing her blouse on the cover is, I expect, money in the bank! What was baffling to me in particular about this release, was that it was apparently being marketed as shoujo, according to a little pamphlet I received along with one of the later volumes of Fruits Basket.
3. The Heartbreak – Everyone’s got their own tale of woe over a series that TOKYOPOP has canceled, but my broken heart belongs to Off*Beat, an almost finished series by OEL creator Jen Lee Quick. With just one volume remaining of its original 3-volume commission, fans like me were left to weep and weep, never knowing what finally happens to sweet Tory and his revealing obsession.
1.
2.
3. 















1. Warmth:
1.Food:
3. Easy People: 


1.
2.
3.
1.
2.
3.