Features & Reviews

By Kaoru Mori. Released in Japan in two separate volumes by Enterbrain, serialized in the magazine Comic Beam. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Sheldon Drzka.

The final omnibus of Emma picks up where the last one left off, and is mostly a collection of side-stories, some of which are only vaguely related to the actual Emma series. Mori tries to explain why she did various stories in the afterwords, but it’s not hard to see that she’s simply getting bored, and using the excuse of a popular series as a way of testing her abilities and letting herself draw whatever she wants. Sometimes this is excellent. The scene with the Molders in their bed, and the flashbacks to how they met, is amazingly sexy, as the author herself tells us, and you really see how much the two adore each other, even if Wilhelm remains as stoic as ever. On the flip side, Teo’s Amazing Adventures in the Wild is a nice excuse to draw a wordless animal story plot, but the resolution hangs disbelief by the neck till it’s dead.

This volume is at its best when it’s dealing with the murky world of Victorian emotions – or, as the series ends, Edwardian emotions, as we move into a new century for Emma’s wedding. The three-part story of a troupe of opera singers and a love triangle is well-done if melancholy, and as ever benefits from multiple minor plot points flittering throughout the main one. Eleanor meets her college student again, and this time it’s more romantic than the last volume – indeed, Mori seems to revel this time around in seeing how many people she can try to hook up, and even the kids seem to have chemistry with each other. There’s even a series of Emma 4-komas in one chapter, mostly following the other characters, as we learn Grace is cute when she’s embarrassed, Hans has no weaknesses (except when he does), and that the butler is just a big softie.

Of course, it all eventually DOES come back to Emma, as her marriage to William is the last quarter of the book. It’s mostly a very good time, but there are reminders that this is still a bit of a status thing – Grace is still upset with William for breaking up with Eleanor, and even though she realizes it’s not Emma’s fault she’s still awkward around her and has to excuse herself. And the Campbells are, of course, not there. But for the most part it’s a glorious event and a party, and there’s a wonderful heartwarming moment where Emma has to write her name and is almost forced to admit she doesn’t have a last name, till William tells her to use Mrs. Stowner’s. Wedding, saved, everyone dances, bride gets completely smashed (in a genteel, repressed way – this is still Emma).

Despite dragging things out a bit with the side stories, Emma is still a wonderful series, and I’m very happy that Yen gave it this deluxe hardcover re-release. It may have some historical inaccuracies and unbelievability, but it’s so emotionally moving that you don’t really care. It’s also a series with a huge cast where, by the end, I was almost able to name everyone without resorting to the internet, which is am impressive feat. Very happy to have read this.

By Rumiko Takahashi. Released in Japan by Shogakukan, serialized in the magazine Shonen Sunday. Released in North America by Viz. Translated by Kaori Inoue, Adapted by Gerard Jones.

The mid to late 1990s was a very strange time for anime fandom on the internet. Information was scarce and fleeting, and most fans relied on hearsay and textual spoilers. We’re a long ways before the era of scanlations and raws being available on all good pirate sites. As a result, Ranma fans who wanted more information (since the anime wasn’t adapting the final volumes, clearly) had synopses and that’s about it. this did not, of course, stop them from using said characters in fanfics, particularly if they helped pair up someone who didn’t really pair up easily before.

For example, we meet Rouge here, a Chinese girl (you can tell she’s Chinese as Takahashi names her after a beauty product, even though she’s not from Shampoo’s village) who ends up in a cursed spring thanks to Pantyhose Taro, and is now determined to have her revenge – most of which involves destroying the Tendo home. It’s an amusing story, relying on her falling in the spring of drowned ASURA, which is drawn with as much ridiculousness as it is possible to have. The denoument, where we see what she’s been fighting to retrieve all this time, is also funny in that Takahashi “so it was all completely pointless” way. Now, Rouge never shows up in the manga again, but several fanfic writers decided she made a good pair with Pantyhose (why they didn’t not write Pantyhose is beyond me, but hey) and thus she had a larger effect on the fandom than she did on the manga itself.

The same goes for Asuka the White Lily, who if she’d appeared ten years later would absolutely have been shipped with Kodachi – even leaving aside the Lily nickname, she’s a ojousama from a private school with a hate on for her childhood friend. But this is 1996, not 2006, and thus the battle between them over who has the best boyfriend (the joke being that because they’re both so horrible neither one has ever found a boyfriend) is taken by fandom somewhat at face value. Don’t worry, Asuka, someone will write a tortured yuri scene with you and Kodachi one day. Oh yes, and Akari shows up again, the only one of these girls who is making repeat appearances, as she visits Ryouga’s home (where, for once, he actually is) and gets caught up in a drawing room farce so broad I was expecting a plate of sardines.

For those who want ship tease with the regulars, well, there’s the hilarious Umbrella of Love story, which features the only known Kuno and Nabiki tease in the entire manga (even under the power of a mind-controlling umbrella, she’s still taking his money), but this is all about Ranma and Akane. As if knowing the end of the series is near, we get a truly incredible amount of moments between them. The umbrella is mostly played for laughs, but shows their feelings for what they are. The story with the Cursed Doll is almost horror, as Akane tries desperately to regain her body before Ranma is either dead or seduced. And most of all we have the arc where Akane gains a possessed armor with a mind of its own, one that makes her stronger than Ranma, and can only be removed if the wearer loses their heart to another. This should be the cue for more hijinks, but it’s played more seriously than I expected, with Ranma realizing how beautiful Akane really is, and trying to defend his true feelings even as she thinks he’s being like this to deceive her (as, to be fair, he has done over and over again).

Ranma never ends with any canon ships, though some are so close that you’d have to be a 1990s Ranma fan in order to deny them. Putting that aside, though, this is a particularly strong volume, one where even the Happosai story made me smile (not because I sympathized with him, it was simply ridiculous). Classic manga comedy at its finest.

By Reki Kawahara and abec. Released in Japan by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Stephen Paul.

This is the second of two short-story collections in the SAO series, though two of the three stories aren’t so short. The Safe Haven Incident was written early enough to actually be used in the first season of the anime, though they sadly cut the funniest scene. Calibur (as in Excalibur) is more recent, and was adapted into the 2nd season. The final story here, The Day of Beginnings, was written specially for this book, and is also the darkest story in the book, showing off a scared, desperate Kirito and why he’s so insistent on being a solo player. All of the works are good, fleshing out this world further and giving fans a bit of a treat before we jump headlong into the next arc, which is ten whole volumes long.

The Safe Haven Incident is a murder mystery, though the murder and its investigation are probably the least interesting part of it. What is good is seeing Kirito and Asuna bond with each other immediately, almost despite themselves, and showing off the two of them seamlessly working together before they became a couple. (Kawahara apologizes to the reader for the continuity not matching the first two books precisely. Given that SAO: Progressive has kicked continuity in the groin and stolen its stuff, I think that’s the least he has to worry about.) We also see Laughing Coffin here, including some retroactive setup for the Phantom Bullet arc that we get as readers even if Kirito doesn’t. As always, a group of players who kill for fun are chilling. The best part of the story, though, bar none, is Kirito and Asuna’s talk with Heathcliff in a ramen restaurant. From Heathcliff’s deadpan hatred of the ramen (his asking “why is this restaurant even here?” is twice as funny after you know his secrets) to Asuna saying the ramen “felt lonely” and determined to figure out how to make soy sauce in Aincrad, it’s pure comedy gold, and it’s a crime the anime had to cut it.

Calibur is more lighthearted, even with a sort of apocalyptic deadline forced on the story. It takes place in Aflheim, so there’s no danger of actual player death, but there is a very real chance the game might ruin itself by starting Ragnarok. But mostly it’s an excuse to see the full cast all reunited one last time and working towards a common goal as a unit. Even Klein gets in on the action, and in fact it’s his samurai desire to help a lady in distress that accidentally ends up winning the day, though of course Klein does not get the girl. Oh, and more comedy cold, as Kirito’s immature pulling of Sinon’s tail (Kawahara tries not to state outright that the tail pull’s effect on its characters is arousing, but it’s somewhat obvious) results in her getting epic revenge later by taking advantage of the fact that every girl in the group is in love with Kirito.

The new story is last, but in terms of continuity it’s first, as it shows what Kirito did immediately after leaving Klein when the game first began. For all the times we’ve seen players complain about “beaters”, here we see they had a point – Kirito absolutely it trying to level up as fast as possible using knowledge only the beta players have, and that will adversely affect the area for other players. We also meet another player, Kopel, who contrasts with Kirito by trying to kill him to save his own skin, though Kirito is not as far from Kopel as he might like. As I said, this is a dark and sad story showing us how a somewhat antisocial young man becomes even more so in a game of death.

This isn’t a book to get if you haven’t read any of SAO before – there’s too much continuity, broken or otherwise, going on – but it’s a nice little addition to the series, and a bit of a breather after the drama of Mother’s Rosary. In the meantime, there’s another Progressive in October, and then in December SAO begins its epic arc: Alicization. Be afraid.

By Fujino Omori and Suzuhito Yasuda. Released in Japan as “Dungeon ni Deai o Motomeru no wa Machigatte Iru Darou ka?” by Softbank Creative. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Andrew Gaippe.

I spent a lot of time in my last review complaining about Book 5’s use of Hestia as a character, so it feels especially good to see how well she fares here. In a volume where her entire life with Bell is destroyed and then offered up as sacrifice to an arrogant God, she shines, not in terms of being a badass but in terms of doing what she’s meant to do best – unite people who care about each other and get *them* to fight. After spending most of the last volume jealous of various women’s dealings with Bell, especially Lily, she doesn’t even think twice about rescuing her from Soma Familia’s clutches. And then there’s her confession to Bell, which sadly takes place during a deadly escape so she can’t press more. That said, once again, Bell just doesn’t see you that way, Hestia.

The girl he does have romantic chemistry with is of course Aiz, though it’s arguable whether that’s only on his end – I remain convinced that Aiz is not so much confused about her love for him as confused about her jealousy of him. Still, their dance at the Gods’ ball is a highlight of the book, and we get another round of training the only way Aiz knows how – beat Bell up till he learns. There’s also some new additions to Hestia Familia, taking it over the count of ‘two’ we’ve had for the first five books. No, not Aiz, but Lily, Welf, and Mikoto (remember her? From the last book?) all join up in order to help Bell and Hestia, though Welf and Mikoto may only be there temporarily. When they all combine, and with the aid of Lyr from the bar once again showing off how badass she is while trying not to reveal her true identity, they’re unstoppable.

They are perhaps a little too unstoppable, and yes, there’s elements of male power fantasy here. Speaking of which, the main villain this time around is Apollo, whose followers are all basically picked up by him because he wants to sleep with them, but are nevertheless very competent – and arrogant, as Bell finds in the first of the book’s four extended fights, which in page count take up nearly 3/4 of the book itself. I was a little irritated at the ‘depraved bisexual’ trope being played completely straight, especially when we’ve seen Freya’s desire for Bell played with a lot less creepiness in previous books. The other flaw in the book is during the battle for Lily at Soma Familia – Lily overcoming the power of the wine/drug to beg that she be able to help Bell is a powerful scene, but Soma is *such* a cipher that it’s not as big as it can be.

So now, at the end of Book Six, the cat is out of the bag as far as Bell Cranel being a badass. Everyone in the entire city watched him and the Familia stomp Apollo’s people, and Hestia’s secret isn’t anymore. I suspect that will affect the next book greatly. Before that, though, we have a spinoff coming in October, which will deal with Aiz and her adventures in the Loki Familia. Usually we get spinoff manga, not novels, so I’m looking forward to this. As for the main series, this volume is absolutely worth your time.

By Satoshi Wagahara and 029. Released in Japan by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Kevin Gifford.

As the series has gone on, the astute reader may have realized that Enta Isla is not simply a place where fantasy devils and angels lived, but a place where an actual War in Heaven broke out and humans were caught in the middle. In other words, where I’d mentioned before that the series was a bit like A Certain Magical Index in the way that it used religious themes for its own ends, I apparently didn’t know the half of it. Here we see Angels descending to Japan to try to discipline one of their own, and Maou gets caught in the middle because a) it’s his series, and b) Chiho ends up hospitalized due to a series of unfortunate coincidences extending back to the start of the series.

Of course, the main people who get character building here are not Maou and Chiho, but rather Emi and Suzuno. Emi is forced to deal with the fact that her mother is in Japan, her father may be alive, and her very EXISTENCE is an affront to Heaven. And Suzuno, who had already had a bit of a crisis of faith in the second book, is now having to deal with the fact that the Angels who inhabit Heaven may not be all that angelic, and in fact may simply be equivalent to just another gang. Again, using Western religious imagery as the impetus for fantasy plotting is not unique to Japan, but it works particularly well here as we come to realize that there really aren’t good and bad guys here, just a bunch of people struggling for power and worship. That said, I do still want to find out one day why Maou was so horrible pre-series.

To be honest, though, the real joy of this book isn’t really the plot revelations or the depth of character. It’s not even the action sequences, or the sight of a busty teenage girl in pink pyjamas flying though the air and firing beams of energy. No, it’s the entire cast spending the first third of the book discussing digital TV and what makes really good udon. Devil Is a Part-Timer has good backstory, don’t get me wrong, but the best reason to read it is still the tiny minutiae of life in Japan as being lived by a bunch of fantasy heroes. Rika’s stunned reaction when none of her companions know who Toshiba is; Maou’s middle management skills saving the day once again and coming up even in the oddest situations and possibly best of all, Suzuno’s obsession with the delicious cheap udon they get at once shop. It’s simply fun to read.

I could say that about the series as a whole. Everyone’s likeable by now – Emi gets less tsundere by the book, though she’s still got a ways to go – and the prose is smooth and clear, one of the best of Yen On’s light novel efforts. It’s still in the top tier of light novels currently being released.

By Izumi Tsubaki. Released in Japan as “Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun” by Square Enix, serialization ongoing in the online magazine Gangan Online. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Leighann Harvey.

For those who greatly enjoyed the Nozaki-kun anime, this volume in particular contains some of the most beloved parts of that anime. Here is where you can find Hori desperately trying to teach a lazy Nozaki about background, which leads to the wonderful “Lately everyone’s been really into boxes!”. We have Nozaki, Hori and Wakamatsu playing the otome game, and boggling at the “good-heartedness” of the lead girl, even when it turns out she can date Satan. And we have the festival, which doesn’t have the sweet ending the anime tacked on to make it more of a finale, but does have Wakamatsu thinking Kashima is a guy and Seo’s date, and the beloved candy apple eating. Basically, everything here is a gem.

(Also, we have that cover, which is absolutely wonderful. You don’t normally think of this title as being sexy, but trust Seo to upend that with one pull of a tie.)

We also meet the rest of Nozaki’s family, though his brother is the one who will actually show up on an occasional basis in future. Like many manga families, the children turn out to have similar personalities to the parents, though both Nozaki and Mayu both seem to be a bit more like their stoic mother. Mayu actually manages to top Nozaki in the “can’t be bothered” sweepstakes, which makes it even more amusing later in the book when he’s paired with the emotionally draining Mikoshiba. Indeed, circumstances have them both end up at the apartment of Tanuki manga author Miyako’s apartment, and Tsubaki shows us why much of the comedy that comes from Nozaki-kun can simply be taking people who’ve never interacted and throwing them together. Turns out their strip, who knew?

And of course there’s Nozaki’s manga, which continues to roll along, even if I imagine its core audience must read it for the eccentricities. Ken can’t possibly smooth them all out. Nozaki trying to “surprise” Sakura ends up failing miserably till he’s not trying anymore, at which point he wins her heart all over again. And speaking of non-romance, Wakamatsu still hates Seo but adores Lorelai, which frustrates Nozaki no end. Seo, of course, is quite happy to go along with this as long as it amuses her, but amusingly, when Wakamatsu ends up being too preoccupied with it to be irritated by her, SHE loses interest in singing! Personality-driven comedy needs to keep surprising, which can be especially difficult in titles like these that don’t really allow for character development, and seeing Tsubaki achieve it every volume is fun.

As always, caveats apply: This is a 4-koma book, which the punchline being a shouted “what the heck?” 90% of the time. But if you don’t mind that, this remains gloriously funny stuff, with a cast that’s extremely strange but fascinating nonetheless.

Very few tanukis this time round, though. Alas.

By Shiden Kanzaki and Saki Ukai. Released in Japan by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Nita Lieu.

I’ve talked before about Black Bullet’s flaws – from its shoehorning of “lolicon’ style humor into the text to its simple unrelenting grimness – so let’s try to take this review to talk about what it does well. Because it does do some things very well. Black Bullet has a plan, and that plan is to let you know about the horrors of war. And over the course of this book’s 220-odd pages, you learn over and over again that the noble soldier fighting an unwinnable fight against an unkillable enemy is something that is going to result in hundreds, indeed thousands of casualties. Sometimes, I will admit, Black Bullet overdoes its message – there’s a scene with a cute 8-year-old getting her head cut off that was just so grand guignol it actually turned silly – but for the most part it’s just a sea of horror that hammers its point home nicely.

The other excellent thing in the book, though again it’s hard to enjoy, is Kisara. I had been ready to gripe about her being underused in the volume again, particularly as there were many times when we were told that she was the most dangerous and deadly of them all – including by the resident insane tykebomb – but we still don’t actually see her doing anything, given that for the most part Rentaro is the hero of this series and it follows his POV. And then we get the Epilogue, and boy howdy. Kisara discovers that one of her brothers is, in fact, responsible for the decay of the monument that led to the events of books 3 and 4 in the first place, and duels him. It’s interesting, because the brother is presented to the reader as being a Grade-A snake, horrible and loathsome, and you are totally not wrong to want to see her take him out.

No, the issue is that she takes joy in doing so, and, in her chosen method, drives a (semi) innocent bystander insane. Her glee and delight as she discusses her revenge being started reminds you what the subtitle of this volume was, and you realize that it was about her all along. Rentaro is, of course, shocked, as this is not the Kisara she normally shows to him. In fact, he realizes that one day he may in fact have to be the one to kill her if she keeps going on like this. I’m not sure when that will play out – final book in the series, I’m guessing – but certainly his utilitarian views are at odds with her “only evil can combat evil” revenge fantasy. It’s a stunning final 30 pages or so.

Of course, my own personal tastes remain an issue here too. This is well-written, the lolicon was at a minimum, and I enjoyed its themes and what it’s trying to say. I just hated reading it as a book for pleasure. It’s very good, bordering on excellent, but I felt the opposite of enjoyment. It was a slog. As such, Black Bullet remains a series that’s hard to recommend, though fans of the anime and of ‘grimdark’ style series will get a lot out of it.