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License request day: Dragon Zakura

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I’ve taken a shine to this week’s license request precisely because it doesn’t really resemble any of my recent wish-list items. It’s also part of an under-a-cloud subcategory, manga that explores the life of the delinquent. A wee handful of the 25 volumes of Hiroshi Takahashi’s Worst ever saw publication in English from Digital Manga. Beloved though it may be by tastemakers, Eiji Nonaka’s Cromartie High School still hasn’t found a new home since the shuttering of ADV.

So what makes me think the commercial prospects are any better for Norifusa Mita’s Dragon Zakura? I actually don’t think it would sell like gangbusters, and I can’t even clearly articulate why I’m eager to read it. All I can say is that I like its magazine provenance – Kodansha’s Morning – and that I find the covers ugly in kind of a mesmerizing way.

But what’s this 21-volume series about? It follows a former motorcycle gang leader turned lawyer decide to turn teacher. He joins the faculty at an on-the-brink-of-bankruptcy school and declares that he will lead at least five of its students to the academic Promised Land: admission to Tokyo University. That the kids are kind of stupid and downtrodden apparently doesn’t bother this academically inclined opportunist.

I can’t quite tell if this is a comedy or a drama, though it seems to lean on the serious side. This is probably a good thing, as the comedic stories of this stripe tend to be things like School of Rock, while the dramas are more like To Sir, with Love, and I can tell you which one I’d rather watch without even a soupcon of hesitation. And Dragon Zakura has won a couple of major manga awards: the Kodansha and the Japan Media Arts Festival Excellence Prize, both in 2005.

 

Manga on the Big Screen: Love*Com, NANA, and Ping Pong

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As anyone who’s seen Green Lantern or Captain America can attest, adapting a comic for the silver screen is an art, not a science. Done poorly, comic book movies alienate fans with the omission of favorite characters and glossing of seminal plotlines, or confuse newcomers with in-jokes and choppy storytelling. Done well, however, comic book movies can appeal to just about anyone who’s receptive to the genre and the characters. VIZ Pictures may not have released as many comic-book movies as DC or Marvel, but its catalog includes adaptations of several popular manga, including Aya Nakahara’s Love*Com, Ai Yazawa’s NANA, and Taiyo Matsumoto’s Ping Pong. These three films make an instructive case study, as they illustrate the pitfalls and potentials of bridging the gap between page and screen.

Love*Com: The Movie
VIZ Pictures • 100 minutes • No Rating
Risa, the tallest girl in the seventh grade, develops a crush on Otani, the shortest boy in her class. Though superficial opposites, the two are really kindred spirits, sharing an enthusiasm for Umibozu (a Japanese rap artist that their classmates detest), swapping good-natured insults, and bonding over memories of rejection for being too tall and too short, respectively.

Whether you’ve read Aya Nakahara’s charming manga or not, you won’t have too much difficulty guessing how the story will end. The problem, however, is that Risa and Otani’s journey from bickering classmates to boyfriend and girlfriend seems utterly contrived. The scriptwriter borrows two romantic rivals from different volumes in the series’ run, but only succeeds in making Mr. “Mighty” Maitake, Risa’s handsome homeroom teacher, an integral part of the story. Even then, Mighty’s arrival is a bolt from the blue, and is never satisfactorily explained; he’s simply inserted into the final act of the story so that he and Otani can compete for Risa’s affections. (And when I say “compete,” I mean it: the two play a pick-up basketball game in front of the entire school.)

The other major drawback to Love*Com is its superficial treatment of the principal characters. Though Aya Nakahara’s manga charts the ups and downs of Risa and Otani’s friendship in minute detail, the movie’s frantic pace never allows us to get to know the characters or understand why they’re drawn to each other; we simply see them walk through a variety of stock scenes — cultural festivals, school trips — without actually seeing the evolution of their feelings dramatized.

It’s a pity that the Love*Com script feels so hastily assembled, as the film has the potential to appeal to both long-time fans and newcomers. The button-cute leads have some chemistry, even if the script doesn’t give them much to do. And the script shows flashes of inspiration; a “director” surrogate periodically interrupts the proceedings to explain certain peculiar-to-manga conventions (most notably the nosebleed-as-sign-of-arousal), intoning this information over strains of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. These digressions occur just a few times, but add some much-needed humor to a film that lacks the wit and honesty of the source material.

The verdict: Skip it. This flat, uninspired retelling of Risa and Otani’s courtship will bore all but the most devoted Love*Com fans.

This review originally appeared at PopCultureShock on 3/24/08.

Nana
VIZ Pictures • 114 minutes • No Rating
I admire Kentaro Otani’s chutzpah in bringing NANA to the big screen, as it’s the kind of story that inspires intense devotion to the characters; make a poor casting decision or cut a beloved character and you run the risk of angering the manga’s most devoted fans. Otani steers clear of those hazards, however, assembling an appealing cast that look and sound like their cartoon doppelgangers. The movie offers a somewhat streamlined account of the manga’s first five volumes, beginning with the two Nanas’ fateful encounter on a Tokyo-bound train and ending with Trapnest’s first visit to the girls’ apartment. Most of the dramatic juice is supplied by Hachi’s relationship with the feckless art student Shoji, and by Nana O.’s relationship with Trapnest bassist Ren.

As much as I enjoy the manga, I’ve always found Hachi’s relentless enthusiasm and boy-crazy antics irritating and couldn’t imagine why the fierce, scornful Nana O. didn’t feel the same way about her. As portrayed by Aoi Miyazaki, however, the character makes more sense. Miyazaki does a superb job of convincing us that Nana O. would befriend someone who seems too ditzy, too dependent, and too femme to hang with an up-and-coming punk act. Mika Nakashima, as Nana O., also turns in a solid performance, playing her character as a believable mixture of belligerence, determination, and vulnerability.

The other great advantage of the movie is its soundtrack. All of the rock-n-roll shoptalk and song lyrics seemed a little preposterous on the page; I had a hard time imaging why Trapnest or Black Stones commanded loyal followings, as they seemed like pallid imitations of Siouxsie and the Banshees. Seeing and hearing these acts in the film, however, transported me back to my college years, reminding me how passionately I felt about certain musicians, and how much their songs felt like an expression of my own identity. The film’s two lengthy concert scenes are highpoints of the film, offering us a window into both girls’ complicated emotional lives — their dreams, their disappointments, their improbably close relationship.

I had a few small bones to pick with the scriptwriters — what happened to Junko and Kyosuke? — but on the whole, I found NANA immensely entertaining. The true measure of the film’s appeal, however, is that my sister, who isn’t a manga maven, loved it too, and wanted to know if there was a sequel. Thank goodness the answer is yes.

The verdict: Rent it. Some die-hard fans may take issue with the casting and script, as the film isn’t as faithful to the manga as the anime adaptation is.

This review originally appeared at PopCultureShock on 3/24/08.

Ping Pong
VIZ Pictures • 114 minutes • No Rating
Based on Taiyo Matsumoto’s manga of the same name, Ping Pong focuses on a pair of friends: Peco (Yosuke Kubozuka), a flamboyant table tennis star who’s obsessed with the game, and Smile (Arata), a reticent young man whose primary motive for playing is to spend time with Peco, whom he quietly regards as a hero. Peco’s swaggering style — complete with acrobatic leaps, trash talk, and frequent dives — makes for good theater, but he’s trounced in a tournament by long-time rival Demon (Koji Ohkura). Despondent over the loss, Peco quits the team and burns his paddle. The coach, himself a former champion known as “Butterfly Joe” (Naoto Takenaka), then turns to Smile to lead his peers to victory in the next major competition, a responsibility Smile is reluctant to accept.

Like Hoosiers, Rocky, Rudy, or A League of Their Own, Ping Pong sticks close to the sports movie playbook, delivering epiphanies with clockwork precision. Smile discovers his inner competitor. Peco discovers that he can’t live without ping pong. “Butterfly Joe” imparts wisdom to Smile. And so on.

Yet for all its sports-movie posturing, Ping Pong is weirdly thrilling, thanks, in large part, to the colorful cast of supporting characters: there’s Peco’s chain-smoking grandmother (Mari Natsuki), a fierce devotee of the sport who runs a table tennis dojo; China (Sam Lee), a washed-up Chinese champion seeking a fresh start in Japan; and Dragon (Shidou Nakamura), a competitor who shaves his eyebrows in an effort to look more intimidating. The other key to Ping Pong‘s success is its fidelity to Taiyo Matsumoto’s original vision. Director Fumihiko Sori’s painstaking efforts to recreate the look and feel of the manga are evident throughout the film, from the casting decisions to the extreme camera angles, jump shots, and fleeting fantasy sequences; Sori manages to capture Ping Pong‘s heightened reality without becoming too arch or mannered.

Fans wanting a behind-the-scenes look at the table tennis action or a few pointers for their own game will want to view the omake on this two-disc set, which includes a 54 minute “making of” documentary, a short “how to” feature reviewing ping pong techniques, and the usual assortment of trailers, tv spots, and cast profiles. All in all, Ping Pong makes a great addition to your library, especially if you still have dog-eared copies of No. 5 kicking around the attic.

The verdict: Rent or buy it. The film captures the arch, surreal quality of Taiyo Matsumoto’s writing even better than the animated version of Tekkonkinkreet.

This review originally appeared at PopCultureShock on 8/28/07.

Off the Shelf: CLAMP & More

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MJ: So. Hi!

MICHELLE: Yo.

MJ: I’m feeling extremely frazzled and not at all witty. How about you?

MICHELLE: Kind of sleepy, actually. Maybe readers should just think up a joke here and pretend one of us said it.

MJ: Good call. So. Read anything lately?

MICHELLE: Indeed I have! I decided to make it a CLAMP week, and first up is volume four of Kobato., currently being released by Yen Press.

I wasn’t very impressed with the first three volumes of this series, which follows the dim-witted titular heroine in her attempts to fill a magic bottle with wounded hearts so that her wish can be granted. Kobato is very compassionate, so she heals hearts pretty well when given the opportunity, but has been spending a lot of time with two particular wounded people—Sayaka, the proprietor of a kindergarten, and Fujimoto, her part-time assistant—and so hasn’t made much progress on filling her bottle. In this volume her guide, the irascible Ioryogi (some kind of supernatural being currently stuck in the body of a stuffed dog) learns that she’s only got six more months in which to complete her task. If she fails, her wish can’t be granted and he can’t regain his original body.

Getting background information on Ioryogi and his motives—mostly revealed in conversations between serious-faced animals—at last is very welcome, making this volume an improvement over the last, but I still can’t say I am enjoying Kobato. all that much. I wish I could like someone, but I just don’t. Kobato would be okay, especially as she works out her burgeoning feelings for Fujimoto, except CLAMP seems to have a fixation with her falling down as much as possible. Ioryogi is always yelling, and not even a mysterious background can make him a compelling character for me. The kindergarten employees seem to have one default emotion each. Heck, the most interesting character in the whole series is the yakuza who’s trying to close the kindergarten down. Let’s jettison everything else and just follow him for a while, eh?

Still, there are a few mysteries that will keep me reading. What is the precious thing in the Heavenly World that Ioryogi is after? What is Kobato’s wish? And why is it so important that she not remove her hat? With either two or three volumes remaining, I figure I can stick around long enough to at least see whether these questions are answered.

MJ: I haven’t gotten as far in to this series as you have, though I think I might like it a bit more. Mostly because I actually do like the title character. But I admit I rather wish CLAMP were spending their time continuing Legal Drug instead. Is that terrible of me to say?

MICHELLE: Not at all. And, in fact, they just finished Kobato. in Japan, so at least it’s not actively consuming any more of their time.

It’s not that I hate Kobato, either, but more like I feel CLAMP is doing her a disservice, if that makes sense.

Annnyways, what have you been reading this week?

MJ: Well, earlier this week, I dug into the first issue of GEN Manga, a new “indie” manga magazine available online or in print from GEN Manga Entertainment. I happened to have the print version, provided in a small, red volume about the same trim size as a standard volume of manga in the US.

GEN‘s promotional material is pretty up-front about their artists being unknown. “GEN puts on no airs about how grand their authors are. In fact, they readily admit that their authors are underground. GEN is manga the way it should be without the flash, for the fans, raw and fresh.” They make a lot of noise about the magazine’s “indie” feel, too. “This original work of graphic fiction boldly challenges the industry while breaking new ground. It presents what manga readers are hungry for, the release of fresh underground work from Japan.”

Trouble is, the stories don’t really read as ground-breaking so much as amateurish. Each of the volume’s four stories has its strengths, certainly, but it’s rarely enough to compensate for its flaws. Both Nakamura Shige’s “Wolf” and Suzuki Yu’s “VS Aliens” suffer from convoluted plotlines that fail to live up to an initial, fairly ambitious premise. Karino Arisa’s “Souls” is intriguing, but artistically immature. Mihara Gunya’s “KAMEN,” the story of a man controlled by a mask he can’t remove, holds up the best, but offers just the barest glimpse of what the story might be.

On the other hand, the volume is currently free for download, ($9.95 in print), which renders it worth checking out at the very least. Don’t get me wrong. I really like what GEN is going for, as a concept anyway, and I’ll definitely be watching to see what kind of work might come out of it in the future. There’s just not much there for me so far.

MICHELLE: I’ve certainly been interested to see what happens with GEN, but admit that I haven’t personally been tempted to try it out. I guess I’m less hungry for “fresh underground work,” especially in short story format, than I am for “much-loved classics” that offer multiple volumes to enjoy.

MJ: I admit I’d be more interested in some of these stories if I knew they were first chapters of something that’s going to be serialized. But that’s not what the promo material suggests, sadly.

So, what’s your other CLAMP selection this week?

MICHELLE: My second CLAMP selection is the Magic Knight Rayearth Omnibus Edition, which was recently released by Dark Horse.

I’ve seen the Rayearth anime, and read TOKYOPOP’s second edition of the manga (with unflipped art), so this was really my third time through the material. I’d never previously counted this as among my favorite CLAMP series, so I thought a reread might be kind of a slog, but I ended up really enjoying it! The first story arc (originally comprising three volumes) benefits greatly from being contained in one volume, where momentum propels one through the adventure at a steady clip and doesn’t let up until the not-exactly-what-one-expects ending. The remastered art looks great, the color pages are beautiful, and, in the end, Rayearth has vaulted up several levels in my esteem.

Another really neat thing about the series is how CLAMP subverts demographic expectations. (Which they continue to do with series like Kobato., which has a shoujo-sounding premise but is, if anything, seinen.) Consider this description of the plot:

Three junior high students are visiting Tokyo Tower on a school trip when they are suddenly summoned to Cefiro by its princess, Emeraude. Emeraude has been kidnapped and the students are tasked becoming the Magic Knights of legend, rescuing the princess, and saving Cefiro, which has plunged into chaos in her absence. They agree, and are outfitted with magical armor and weaponry. As they head out on various tasks, their abilities grow and weapons evolve even as they forge a tight friendship. They are absolutely determined to save Cefiro, vanquish many menacing monsters along the way, and are frequently depicted in fierce and badass poses. Eventually, they awaken some giant mecha and defeat Zagato, the high priest who is holding Emeraude captive.

Now cast the students as girls and remind yourself that this ran in a shoujo magazine. The shounen-style fantasy flare makes for a fun adventure, but there’s a pretty powerful shoujo punch waiting in the final pages. I really enjoyed this series on a reread—though I’m not too enamored of the silly comedy—and eagerly await the omnibus of the second half.

MJ: Well, wow, you’ve inspired me to want to read this as well! I have to admit that despite being a CLAMP fan, I bogged down in the first volume of the TOKYOPOP editions. But you make this sound genuinely fascinating and fun!

MICHELLE: I remember bogging down myself when I first started the anime, but this time I breezed right through the story and ended up with a greater appreciation of the characters and the art, which is often quite pretty. I’d definitely say it’s worth another look. Plus, any Tsubasa or xxxHOLiC fan should enjoy seeing where Mokona originally came from!

What’s your second pick this week?

MJ: Well, It’s a bit of a strange one, or at least strange for me. While I’m used to receiving a variety of manga for review from Viz, I admit to being quite surprised when my latest review package contained volume one of Pokémon Black and White. I can say with complete honesty that I’ve never had the slightest interest in Pokémon, and really I missed its initial craze entirely, but there it was, in my apartment, Pokémon Black and White. So without any real knowledge of the Pokémon universe, I decided to sit down and read it.

Thankfully, as a series for kids, it wasn’t as difficult as it might have been to try to pick up the basic premise, though I can’t say I actually understand what Pokémon are, or why they are being raised up for “trainers” to have battles, but that indeed is what is going on. The main character being introduced here is “Black,” a guy who is so deeply obsessed with winning the “Pokémon League,” that in order to think about anything else at all, a creature named Musha must empty his brain— literally wipe it completely clean—so that new information can be introduced into it.

Though this all sounds a bit creepy, I admit I find the concept pretty compelling (I could use a Musha of my own, these days). Unfortunately, very little is made of Black’s periodically emptied brain at the time, and the rest of the volume is pretty much devoted to his first “trainer battle” with a guy who can’t tolerate heat.

Obviously, I am not the audience for this series, and I’d be hard pressed to find a reason to buy volumes of it on my own, but it does contain some surprisingly interesting elements, along with a slew of genuinely cute creatures. I developed a particular fondness for one called a “cottonee,” that was so distressed by its inability to protect its heat-intolerant trainer from fire, that it put itself in harm’s way to try to overcome its weakness.

MICHELLE: You win the gold star for diversity in this column!

I actually do know a little bit about Pokémon because I was teaching piano at the height of its craze and, of course, wanted to get the best stickers with which to motivate my students. At one point, I could even tell you which creatures morphed into which, but now all I really remember is that Snorlax is adorable. I even had a plushie.

Anyway, even though I can’t say I want to rush out and read this for myself, it sounds like kids are for in for a treat.

MJ: I do think it is pretty vital for kids to have at least some introduction to Pokémon before trying to make sense of this bit of the series, which is actually why I didn’t end up sending it off to our own Jia Li for review, but yes, kids who are interested in the franchise should find quite a bit to enjoy in this volume, I’d think.

MICHELLE: I think kids would probably find Rayearth a lot of fun, too, actually. Dark Horse lists the age range as twelve and up (there are a few ladies in butt-floss garb) but the real issue would be whether a kid could actually lift the durn thing.

MJ: Heh, that’s good to know. I’d say that Pokémon skews younger, but it’s always nice to see manga out there that the under-13 crowd can enjoy.

MICHELLE: Definitely!

Manga the week of 8/10

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You know, for a 2nd week of the month, it’s pretty packed with stuff. There’s a lot here for almost any type of fan. Let’s get started.

First off, non-manga releases that interest me. There’s a new Complete Peanuts coming out from Fantagraphics. It may have hit the 1980s, but the quality still seems to be quite high. Can’t wait. Also, IDW is releasing a new Archie hardcover. Unlike their previous ‘Best of ‘ collections, this one focuses on a single weird Archie title from the 1960s: Archie’s Mad House. As you might guess, this comic started out with the Archie gang, focusing on really bizarre adventures. After about 20 issues or so, it dropped them and began running its own stories, including the debut of Sabrina the Teenage Witch. I’m quite interested to see what IDW does with this.

Now back to manga. Dark Horse may be delaying every other manga title in its catalogue from now till doomsday, but its bestsellers keep coming out like clockwork. This week we have Vol. 18 of Gantz, from our friends at Shueisha’s Young Jump. For a more media-oriented title, there’s The Shinji Ikari Raising Project, now up to Vol. 9. It runs in Shonen Ace and will be sure to please Evangelion fans. Well, most. Well, some. A few? All right, it will inspire arguments. But it’s popular!

Bandai has a debut this week with Tales of the Abyss: Asch the Bloody. It’s based on a video game, and is one of about 10,000 manga spinoffs of said game. Given all that, can you guess where it originally ran? If you said Comp Ace, you’re a true Manga Geek! I suspect it will be tie-in-tastic.

Kodansha is, as ever, absent from Midtown’s list. Again. However, my local shop indicates two titles coming in next week. The debut of Deltora Quest, a fantasy manga that ran in the late Comic BonBon, a magazine geared towards elementary school boys. You know, like Shonen Magazine should be but isn’t. and the 2nd and final omnibus volume of I Am Here!, which saw Vol. 1 from Del Rey and is thankfully getting a conclusion. Like all Kodansha shoujo these days, it ran in Nakayoshi.

Udon has the 2nd volume of Megaman Gigamix, which is based on a video game as well. Though, despite its name, it’s not from Konami.

Viz has the 3rd volume of Blue Exorcist, which I think most of us got this week from Diamond. There’s a new Inu Yasha omnibus, the 27th volume of the energetic and likeable Kekkaishi, and the 6th Maoh: Juvenile Remix, which this time I believe is remixed by Saint Etienne. Blue Exorcist is from Jump, the other three from Sunday. And there’s the 7th volume of Ikigami, for fans of Bokurano who want to see more series where people die nobly over and over again.

And there’s a huge pile from Yen. The biggie for me this week is the 3rd Book Girl novel, Book Girl and the Captive Fool. I’ve been thrilled with the first two in the series, a dark high school thriller with an intriguing backstory, and definitely want more. Aside from that, there’s the conclusion of the Eye-Opening Arc in Higurashi (Gangan Wing), which will no doubt be filled with gore. But don’t worry, kids, a new arc starts in October! And I have it on good authority that the Eye-Opening arc is the low ebb. It’s all uphill from here! … mostly. There’s new K-On! (Manga Time Kirara Carat), Haruhi Suzumiya (Shonen Ace), AND Haruhi Suzumiya-chan (ditto) for all your moe needs. Oh yes, and Omamori Himari 4 (Dragon Age), which I don’t read, but certainly looks moe as well. There’s the 9th volume of Sumomomo Momomo, which lost me after the first volume but I understand gets better. And there’s the 4th and last volume of Ugly Duckling’s Love Revolution, the reverse harem manga from Enterbrain’s B’s Log. I found its comedic antics more annoying than heartwarming, but admit I was not remotely its target audience. Also (last time this week, I promise) based on a game!

See what I mean? That’s a lot. What are you getting?

Now You’re One of Us

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Noriko, the young heroine of Asa Nonami’s Now You’re One of Us, initially thinks she’s hit the marriage jackpot. Not only are her in-laws wealthy and well regarded by their neighbors, they’re also quick to embrace her as a member of the family. Her husband Kazuhito is handsome and utterly devoted; her mother-in-law Kimie, generous and uncritical; and her sister-in-law Ayano, solicitous to everyone in the household, including Kazuhito’s oddly child-like brother Takehami. Even the Shito matriarch, ninety-eight-year-old Ei, welcomes Noriko to the clan by declaring her the family’s “treasure” and “future.”

Shortly after Noriko arrives at the Shitos’ Tokyo home, a strange, slightly disheveled neighbor approaches her while she works in the garden. Though Kimie is quick to dismiss him as a troubled tenant who’s fallen on hard times, Noriko can’t shake the feeling that the neighbor was about to divulge something damning — a feeling intensified by his mysterious death in a fire several days later. The Shitos’ oddly muted, impersonal response to his death further arouses Noriko’s suspicion, as do the family’s clandestine midnight meetings. Though the Shitos offer reasonable, measured responses to Noriko’s inquiries, she begins wondering if the Shitos run an illicit business… or worse.

Thanks to a fluid translation by Michael and Mitsuko Valek, Asa Nonami’s simple, unfussy prose draws the reader into Noriko’s insular world, showing us how a simple girl from a working class family is lured into the Shitos’ web. In this passage, for example, Nonami reveals Kazuhito to be a deft manipulator, appealing to Noriko’s vanity by suggesting that Ei’s endorsement carries special significance:

“Great Granny’s been watching people for ninety-eight years — she can see through them at a glance, so lots of people in the neighborhood come to ask her for advice.” He explained how delighted he was that Great Granny had taken a liking to her; it showed that he hadn’t been blinded by attraction. He felt like the luckiest man in the world for having found someone of whom his family approved.

Unfortunately, Nonami is never content to let a passage like this one stand alone; she feels compelled to explain how Kazuhito’s words swayed Noriko by telling us exactly what Noriko is thinking at the moment he gives this speech. The obviousness of Noriko’s interior monologues is especially frustrating; Nonami does a competent job of revealing her characters’ motivations and feelings through their actions without resorting to such editorial interventions.

The other drawback to Nonami’s storytelling is that she begins telegraphing the ending just a few chapters into the book. Savvier readers will quickly figure out what the Shitos’ secret is — and it’s a doozy — though they probably won’t mind wading through another hundred pages to have their ickiest suspicions confirmed, especially since Nonami manages a few surprises in the final pages.

The bottom line: Now You’re One of Us is an entertaining, atmospheric potboiler that’s probably best read in the privacy of one’s own home.

This review originally appeared at PopCultureShock on 2/8/08.

NOW YOU’RE ONE OF US • BY ASA NONAMI, TRANSLATED BY MICHAEL AND MITSUKO VALEK • VERTICAL, INC. • 240 pp.

The Josei Alphabet: Z

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“Z” is for…

Zanbara! Written and illustrated by Ikumi Katagiri, serialized in Ichijinsha’s Comic Zero-Sum and Zero-Sum Ward: A period piece about two kids who learn martial arts during turbulent times. I like that cover.

Zankoku na Hatsukoi, adapted from Anne Mather’s novel by Kei Kousaki, originally published by Harlequin, one volume: A difficult reunion ensues when a former husband and wife cross paths in the woman’s home town.

Zankoku na Kami ga Shihaisuru, written and illustrated by Moto (A Drunken Dream and Other Stories) Hagio, serialized in Shogakukan’s Petit Flower, 17 volumes: I’m totally cheating, since I listed this as A Cruel God Reigns back in “C,” but it’s Hagio, so I feel justified.

Zombieya Reiko, written and illustrated by Rei Mikamoto, originally serialized in Bunkasha’s Horror M, 11 volumes, partially published in English as Reiko’s Zombie Shop by Dark Horse: I felt bad that I missed this one back in “R,” so I’m rectifying that.

Josei magazines:

What starts with “Z” in your josei alphabet?

 

Skyfall by Catherine Asaro

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From the back cover:
Skyfall goes back to the beginning, to the rebirth of Skolia, showing how a chance meeting on a backwater planet forges a vast interstellar empire. Eldrinson, a provincial ruler on a primitive planet, is plagued by inner demons. But when he meets Roca, a beautiful and mysterious woman from the stars, he whisks her away to his mountain retreat, inadvertently starting a great interstellar war, and birthing the next generation of rulers for the Skolian Empire.

Review:
Skyfall is technically the ninth book in Catherine Asaro’s Saga of the Skolian Empire series, but is first if one is reading in internal chronological order. It works well as an entry point, though there were a few things that could’ve used a bit more explanation—presumably this happens in the books that were actually published before this one.

Beautiful and golden (like, literally) Roca Skolia is a “Ruby Psion,” an extremely rare and valued psion descended from similarly rare parents who currently rule the Skolian Imperialate. Because of her pedigree, she is expected to marry someone of the ruling assembly’s choosing and produce more Ruby Psions, the only people capable of controlling “the Kyle web,” an instantaneous interstellar network that somehow protects Skolia. Roca’s been married twice before and her grown son, Kurj, has a lot of mental anguish about the death of his father, the abuse perpetrated by his stepfather, and the atrocities committed by another group of psions who relish the pain of others.

When Roca’s away on government business (she’s the foreign affairs councillor), Kurj calls an assembly vote to discuss going to war with the sadistic psions. She knows he’ll try to stop her from casting her dissenting vote, so goes underground to try to make it back home in time without attracting his notice. Her route takes her to a remote, unspoiled world called Skyfall by “the Allieds” (descendents of Earth) and Lyshriol by its natives. There, her plans are foiled by a treacherous snow storm, and while she waits for it to pass, she falls in love with Eldri, a passionate and epileptic bard with significant psionic gifts, and ends up pregnant just in time for Eldri’s rival to lay siege to his castle.

It wouldn’t be incorrect to label Skyfall as “a romance novel in space.” Certainly Roca’s relationship with Eldri, who believes she’s a gift from the sun gods and is otherwise baffled by the technology she sees as commonplace, is quite romantic, with the two of them drawn together pretty much instantly and conceiving easily when other Ruby Psion births have required much medical intervention to achieve. Roca’s position brings political factors into their relationship, however. It turns out that Lyshriol was once a Skolian colony, so when Kurj eventually comes looking for her and Roca’s family finds out she has actually married this “barbarian,” it is ultimately Eldri’s genes that convince them to accept him (after a barrage of tests during which Eldri’s mental abilities and illness are evaluated).

There aren’t a whole lot of sci-fi elements to the novel, though there are enough to give one a picture of how things work in the Skolian Empire and its relationships with other spacefaring people. Genetic manipulation seems quite normal, as are cybernetic implants, and I am totally envious of the language node Roca has, which enables her to process and gradually learn new languages. Kurj has turned himself into an intimidating metallic giant, but it’s still not enough to shield him from his self-conflicting inner demons. In his case, Asaro effectively uses technology to show just how damaged he is, with some pretty fascinating results.

Suffice it to say, I’m looking forward to reading more in this series!

Additional reviews of Skyfall can be found at Triple Take.

Upcoming 8/3/2011

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Given the vagaries of comic distribution timing, I’ve already read two of the titles I’m most eagerly anticipating off of the current ComicList. So I guess I’m not eagerly anticipating them so much as fondly remembering them. Anyway, you might still be undecided, so…

First up was the fourth volume of The Story of Saiunkoku (Viz), Kairi Yura’s lovely adaptation of Sai Yukino’s light novels. It’s entirely possible that I love this series so much that I can no longer see its flaws, but I think it equally likely that there are no meaningful flaws to be seen. This arrival was particularly welcome during the debate over the debt ceiling, as it suggested a world where people go into governance for the right reasons, and the best and brightest are rewarded with responsibility and authority. So, yes, clearly it’s a fantasy, but it’s a lovely and reassuring one, and the creators reinforce its ultimately feminist message by moving their heroine closer to her dream, even if it damages the romantic prospects of the man who loves her. That’s not the kind of conundrum you see every day in entertainment, which makes this series just about priceless.

Less rewarding was the fourth volume of Julietta Suzuki’s Kamisama Kiss (Viz). I generally like this series very much for the evenhanded approach Suzuki takes with her male and female protagonists. She treats them with equal respect, and she gives each specific strengths which make their relationship much more interesting than some victim-rescuer dynamic would be. That balance slips a bit this time around, which is disappointing, though hardly fatal. I still like the characters a lot, but certain complications screw up their dynamic and make it depressingly… conventional. (Misunderstanding! Secrecy! Alienation!) I count on Suzuki’s quirky good sense to reassert itself next time around.

In other Viz news, this week sees the delivery of the third volume of Kazue Kato’s very promising Blue Exorcist, the eighth volume of Yuki Midorikawa’s lovely Natsume’s Book of Friends, and the second volume of Mayu Shinjo’s sure-to-be-repulsive Ai Ore!

Oh, and in the category of things I’m still eagerly anticipating, there’s the second volume of CLAMP’s Cardcaptor Sakura (Dark Horse). I can’t believe I’ve yet to see this series in a Barnes & Noble.

What looks good to you?

 

Bookshelf Briefs 8/1/11

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This week, Michelle, MJ, & David check out recent releases from Digital Manga Publishing, Viz Media, & Yen Press.

Entangled Circumstances | By Kikuko Kikuya | Published by Digital Manga – Actually, this stand-alone yaoi tale could use a few more tangles. College acquaintances are reunited in the workplace, and the renewed acquaintance is not a welcome one for Shibui, who seems to despise the flattering attentions of handsome, quirky Himeko. If you’ve read more than, say, five yaoi stories, you’ve probably run across this type of tale at least once, with a character’s reactions and behaviors having more complex origins than the reader is initially led to suspect. Of course, those complex origins don’t vary a lot from version to version, and Kikuya doesn’t do much to break the mold. On the bright side, she draws well, and she’s got a lively sense of pacing. If the characters were just a bit more specific – if they really popped – Kikuya could successfully transcend formula. As things stand, this book is more predictable than likable. – David Welsh

K-ON!, Vol. 3 | By Kakifly | Published by Yen Press – I never thought I would be saying this, but this volume of K-ON! is actually pretty good. The flow of the four-panel strips has improved considerably, and though there are fewer punchlines, it doesn’t really matter, since they were never funny to begin with. Instead, the volume reads in a more linear fashion, and episodes wherein the group tries to accustom Mio (the reserved one) to performing in public by randomly getting hired at a maid café actually turn out to have some bearing on things that happen later. Even the overreliance on seasonal high notes like Valentine’s Day and the class trip doesn’t annoy me as much as it might’ve, though I’m seriously weary of the boob-grabbing gags. – Michelle Smith

Nabari No Ou, Vol. 7 | By Yuhki Kamatani | Published by Yen Press – It’s hard to believe that I ever described this series as “extremely dull,” but it’s true that it took a few volumes to win me over. Thankfully, it just keeps on getting better. Volume seven marks the halfway point of the series, with Miharu, the living embodiment of a secret ninja art, rebelling against his former comrades, making new alliances, and shedding his indifference where the life of his friend, Yoite, is concerned. Add in some rival shinobi hoping to harvest human “ingredients” in order to concoct the only medicine with a chance at saving their chief as well as some pretty significant revelations about a major character, and you end up with a pretty terrific volume. – Michelle Smith

Ôoku: The Inner Chambers, Vol. 6 | By Fumi Yoshinaga | Published by Viz Media – I know it isn’t much in the way of critical analysis, but I always feel the need to remind people that this series exists, licensed and in English, and that they should really be reading it if they’ve ever publicly expressed a yearning for mature and challenging Japanese comics. This volume of Yoshinaga’s alternate-universe look at Japan’s feudal era addresses complex issues of succession and loyalty, which gives the creator plenty of meaty emotional raw material to twist in her hands. The driving notion of this series – a world where the male population has been decimated by disease – is more than just an attention-grabbing gimmick. It allows Yoshinaga to dig into gender roles and notions of personal power in ways that few creators bother to attempt. It’s also as gorgeous and sexy as it is smart and complicated, which is pretty much everything you could ever want from a mature manga. – David Welsh

Otomen, Vol. 11 | Aya Kanno | Viz Media – As with most comedic manga, I’ve run hot and cold with Otomen over the course of its run. Though the series consistently offers smart, funny commentary on traditional gender roles, this is a trait that doesn’t necessarily lend itself to long-form storytelling. A single joke—even a really great joke—is not infinitely sustainable, and the ability of Otomen‘s core satire to single-handedly carry the series ran out about six or seven volumes ago. Fortunately, mangaka Aya Kanno seems to have realized this as well, as she’s attempted to deepen her message and finally explore her characters as full-fledged people over the past few volumes, both with more success than I might have expected. Though on the surface, a competition between two men over their respective accumulation of Valentine’s Day chocolate may sound like an unlikely vehicle for effective characterization, Kanno somehow makes it work. Still recommended. – MJ

The Story of Saiunkoku, Vol. 4 | Art by Kairi Yura, Story by Sai Yukino | Viz Media – There’s no denying that The Story of Saiunkoku is a very pretty manga. Filled with dreamy bishounen, period costuming, and long, luxurious hairstyles, it would be easy for a manga like this to glide along on looks alone. Fortunately, much like its smart, resourceful heroine, The Story of Saiunkoku would never consider taking the easy way out. Text-heavy but never tedious, The Story of Saiunkoku provides all the best elements of epic shoujo romance with almost no focus on romance at all, while somehow making the minutiae of ancient Chinese government appear more fascinating than a thousand love scenes combined. Though this volume strays a bit from the main storyline to touch on the history of the Hongs’ bearded houseguest, Ensei, it provides readers with a major payoff near the end, as Emperor Ryuki takes steps to make it possible for Shurei achieve her lifelong career goals. Highly recommended. – MJ

Negima! Magister Negi Magi, Vol. 30

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By Ken Akamatsu. Released in Japan as “Mahou Sensei Negima!” by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Weekly Shonen Magazine. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics.

Everyone has heard of the phrase “it’s always darkest before the dawn”, and that proves to be true of Negima as well. Sadly, the dawn is not in this volume, which mostly brings our cast closer and closer to ‘the darkest’. Things fall apart, the center cannot hold…

When we left our heroes, we were in the middle of a big flashback telling the rest of the story of Negi’s mother and father. Having saved as many people as possible from a crushing death at the hands of the faceless bad guys, Arika is rewarded by being turned into a scapegoat and accused of the murder of her father and others in the name of ambition. It’s up to the others to rescue her… that is if she wants to be rescued. It has to be said that her rescue, and Nagi and Arika’s subsequent confessions, are one of the most heartwarming bits of the series, something which Akamatsu is clearly milking for all it’s worth, as he has several characters, including our current villain, tear up at it.

As a villain, Goedel’s not up to much. Sure, he can hold back Negi for a bit, but his crypticness just serves to annoy, and he reckons without the powers of Negi’s friends. Indeed, Chisame, Asakura and Nodoka all get great spotlights here, as we see that intelligent use of powers can get you far even if you aren’t a fighter. And, of course, we get the fighters as well, as Ku Fei shows up with her Monkey King Staff of Awesome.

And then the villains decide to attack… all of them. This means we have the palace guards coming to arrest Negi’s girls as conspirators (they don’t last long, especially once they start threatening Konoka in front of her protector…), as well as what appears to be Cthulhu. No, really, even Paru notes it. This proves much harder to battle as it starts ripping the palace into bits. So the new strategy is to get to the bottom of the palace and meet up there… but the goal is to avoid getting to the bottom the hard way.

Luckily, we have a few old friends showing up to help, who we knew were around but hadn’t actually seen for about 10 volumes. Takamichi manages to finish off the beatdown of Goedel, and notes that while he finds Negi’s desire to continue his father’s work dangerous, it also makes him quite happy. And then there’s Mana, who manages to be almost ludicrously good as she battles the random faceless Lovecraft monsters. Of course, that’s because fake!Asuna offers to pay her to do it… she had no interest in the innocents being killed otherwise (or so she says). Once again, Mana’s mercenary aspect is both amusing and disturbing. And Misora’s right, how DID she pull that bazooka from out of her cleavage? ^_-

Meanwhile, Negi Party are split further when a building cracks in half. Asakura almost falls to her death, but is saved by a surprisingly strong Nodoka… who’s then saved by her dungeon-crawling friends Craig and Aisha, who were worried about her and came back to help. (Asakura is quick to poke at Nodoka for attracting suitors, and also notes her new toughness.) So they’re safe! … for about 6 pages. Then The Lifemaker shows up. As with the rest of Fate’s team, he’s perfectly happy to fight any number of physically powerful types like Kaede or Setsuna, but wants Nodoka and her mind-reading removed from the board. So he attacks her, and Craig tries to defend… and gets vaporized into a spray of white feathers.

Now, given that he’s mysteriously vaporized into white feathers rather than, say, crushed into a pulpy mess, I suspect this is one of those many handy reversible deaths you seen in shonen all the time. Still, it’s plenty shocking given we haven’t really had ANY deaths in present-time Negima, and the last shot of the volume is Nodoka’s stunned face. After the relaxing kiss kiss carnival and political shenanigans of Volume 29, this one’s an action packed brawl, and it’s only going to get worse in Volume 31.

And there’s not even any fanservice this time! Well, not much…

Kobato., Vols. 1-3

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By CLAMP | Published by Yen Press

The plot of Kobato. sounds like a typical shoujo magical girl story. A dim-witted and clumsy heroine, who also happens to be guileless and compassionate, is tasked with filling a magic bottle with wounded hearts so that her dearest wish can be granted. But Kobato. isn’t shoujo.

If anything, it’s seinen, as it ran for seven chapters in Sunday GX before going on hiatus and reemerging in Newtype magazine. I’m guessing that the target audience, presumed to be young men with an appreciation for moe, is the reason why Kobato commences flailing, chibified panic mode on page two and falls down approximately fifteen times per chapter. (I may be exaggerating there, but honestly not by much.) The latter gag is run into the ground so relentlessly that I refuse to consider that anyone finds it funny, so CLAMP must be trying to inspire feelings of “Aww, she’s so cute and/or hopeless.”

The first volume of Kobato. is not very good. Kobato’s incompetency grates as does the constant browbeating she receives from Ioryogi, some sort of supernatural being currently dwelling in the form of a stuffed dog, who is testing her ability to “act according to the common-sense rules of this place.” If she passes, she earns the magic bottle. These tests—mainly centered around holidays—include taking out the trash, making nabe, and spending New Year’s day playing traditional games with an elderly woman.

Things improve somewhat in the second volume. Kobato’s got her bottle now and is ready to heal some wounded hearts. After moving into the same apartment building seen in Chobits, she starts work as a helper at Yomogi Kindergarten. The head of the school, Sayako-sensei, seems to have a heart in need of some healing, as does her hard-working part-time employee, Fujimoto. With Ioryogi’s assistance, Kobato tries to discover how best to help them, and gradually learns that Sayako is working to pay off a debt her father was tricked into incurring, that Sayako’s soon-to-be-ex husband is threatening harm to the school unless she pays up, and that Fujimoto is working himself to the point of exhaustion to earn money to contribute. They seem suspicious of Kobato at first, but her genuine sincerity eventually wins over even grumpy Fujimoto.

This is definitely an improvement over the first volume, but the kindergarten-in-peril storyline still seems to be occupying a great deal of space in what looks to be only a six-volume series. (Kobato. just recently came to an end.) There is a lot of room left in Kobato’s bottle, so I wonder how she will end up filling it after spending so much time working on these two hearts in particular.

Now that I’ve finished my litany of complaints, there are some intriguing questions about Kobato. that leave me inclined to stick with the series until the end. Where is Kobato from, exactly? What is her wish? How did she and Ioryogi meet? What is Ioryogi? (We’ve learned already that if he helps Kobato grant her wish, he may be able to get his original body back.) And, most peculiarly of all, why is it that Kobato is not allowed to take off her hat?

Kindergarten peril I can do without, but I really do want to know what’s up with the hat thing.

Review copies provided by the publisher.

Let’s Get Visual: Fruits Basket

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MICHELLE: So, we’ve been talking about Fruits Basket all week, but I’m certainly not yet weary of the topic. How about you, MJ?

MJ: I suspect I could discuss Fruits Basket for weeks on end!

MICHELLE: Me too. We’ve already discussed the general awesomeness of the story and characters this week, but one thing we haven’t talked much about yet is the art. Takaya’s style evolves a good bit over the course of the series, and while I used to think I preferred her earlier style, I’ve lately realized that that is not the case at all. Do you have a preference yourself?

MJ: Hm, well, I definitely appreciate the prettiness of the series’ early volumes, and I do think there is some detail lost later on, but one thing the series never lacks is expressiveness, and that goes for the artwork as much as anything else.

MICHELLE: I think the expressiveness actually improves later on, at least insofar as Tohru is concerned, since she loses those really, really, really big eyes of hers. I will forever mourn the changes to my beloved Hatori, though, who goes from looking like this to looking like this.

It’s not that he’s become unattractive; he’s just lost a certain bishounen quality that I had certainly appreciated.

MJ: I do think Takaya does a wonderful job of aging the characters subtly over the course of the story, and I’m not necessarily just referring to their physical ages. I think she matures them overall, letting their outsides reflect their insides.

MICHELLE: That is definitely true, especially with Kyo, Yuki, and Momiji. Probably Momiji most stunningly of all.

MJ: Yes, there is quite a bit made of Momiji’s growing up, isn’t there? And though it’s more difficult to see that transformation as “subtle,” it’s certainly striking and oddly poignant.

MICHELLE: Takaya really does well with “striking” and “poignant,” doesn’t she? Which leads us to our specific picks for this month’s column!

Many of the most powerful and affecting moments in Fruits Basket occur between just two characters. To exemplify this trend, MJand I have both chosen scenes starring only Kyo and Tohru.

MJ, why don’t we start with you?

Volume 15, Chapter 87, Pages 129-134 (TOKYOPOP)

MJ: Okay, well, I’ve chosen a scene from late in volume fifteen. After losing his temper in a confrontation with Yuki, Kyo returns to his classroom to find Tohru waiting for him, alone. In terms of script alone, the scene is not especially remarkable. There are some dramatic moments in Kyo’s inner monologue, but they’re both being careful not to *say* anything out of the ordinary. What makes the scene really work, though, is their body language.

At this point in the series, both Kyo and Tohru are just barely beginning to realize how they feel about each other, and Takaya plays this beautifully. The way Tohru lights up the moment she realizes Kyo is in the room, Kyo’s impulse to lean against her, their excited nervousness about being close, and especially Tohru’s last page alone—you can actually feel the tension between them in every panel. It’s so well done.

I especially like the last panel, with a flushed Tohru hurrying out of the frame. Somehow, leaving us with the empty space behind her keeps us lingering in the moment, much as she would herself, if she hadn’t been called away. There’s a sense there that the moment still looms large for her, too, even as she’s hastily left it behind, emphasized by the flowers still present in the frame. Like her absence in the frame is saying, “Really intense and possibly scary feelings happened here… run away, run away!” Does that make any sense?

MICHELLE: It absolutely makes sense! I’m always interested in how mangaka use open space, and I think you’re quite right that in that final panel it’s being used to keep us in place while Tohru dashes off. On the first page, the oddly tall panel of Tohru alone in the classroom employs empty space to emphasize how she really is the only one there.

This example reminds me of your pick for our “Duds” column, Baseball Heaven, and how the artist in that case utterly failed to establish convincing body language between two characters who were meant to be attracted to each other. Perhaps Ellie Mamahara needs to read more Fruits Basket!

MJ: Oh, good call, Michelle! Yes, that’s the perfect choice for contrast here. Everything that’s missing in that scene from Baseball Heaven is demonstrated spectacularly here, and as a result, this actually plays as a love scene much more convincingly, despite not actually being one. Even the use of small frames to emphasize the hand or face—something that just felt distracting and fragmented in Mamahara’s scene—adds to the tension here. It’s wonderfully done.

So what about you, Michelle? What scene did you choose?

Volume 22, Chapter 128, Pages 96-99 (TOKYOPOP)

MICHELLE: The scene I’ve chosen is from volume 22, quite near the end of the series. Tohru has been hospitalized and her friends have barred Kyo from seeing her while she recovers, since she gets stressed at the mention of his name.

As Kyo makes his nervous way to the hospital, the size and shape of the panels reflect his mental state. They’re cramped, dark, and dominated by his inner monologue. “Do I really still like her? What do I like about her?” We catch incomplete glimpses of the things Kyo passes on his journey, because he is so wrapped up in his thoughts that he too is hardly noticing them. Finally he arrives at the hospital, and the tension as he catches Uotani’s eye is palpable.

And then… Tohru appears and the world falls away. Suddenly, everything is so clear. The doubts are wiped away as if they have never been, because the minute he sees her, it is so very simple. “I love her.” Even as Kyo’s focus narrows to include only Tohru, the pages still have a wide-open and airy feeling that suggests gentleness and infinite possibility. This is the first time Kyo has really allowed himself to acknowledge these feelings, and it’s so beautifully done that it gives me goosebumps.

MJ: Oh, absolutely, I have the same reaction here! Everything you’ve said about the size and tone of the panels is exactly spot-on. Also, watching Kyo’s face the few times we see it is striking, panel-to-panel. His first expression, as he’s approaching the hospital, is one of extreme trepidation, and it feels to me that he’s sort of hiding behind his bangs. He doesn’t want to be seen by anyone, especially someone like Uotani, whose gaze he reacts so intensely to. He’s terrified of his own feelings and of screwing things up, and he knows that he’s historically bad at dealing with emotional situations. He’s simply terrified on all fronts.

Then, when he sees Tohru, all of that just drops away, leaving him with an expression of pure longing and vulnerability we’ve really not seen on him before. Just as the air opens up, so does Kyo, completely unguarded for one long moment. It’s really stunning. I think both of these scenes we’ve chosen would play just the same with all the text removed—they’re so much driven by the emotion in the artwork.

MICHELLE: Longing, vulnerability and sheer wonder, I think. :)

And yes, I think we have a knack for picking scenes where text is not really necessary. Even here, body language is certainly telling a lot of the story for us, even in small ways like Kyo’s tensed, half-flexed arm and clenched fist as he finally reaches his destination. You can almost see him willing himself to get through this without messing up.

MJ: There’s just so much emotional nuance here, in every panel. When I’m reading scenes like this in context, these are details I don’t consciously notice as I let the emotions just sweep me along, but when we actually take the time to break it down like this, I can’t help but be amazed by how much thought has gone into each line on the page.

MICHELLE: Me too. It sounds like we’ve convinced ourselves that, yet again, Fruits Basket is awesome.

MJ: Indeed we have!

MICHELLE: Thank you, MJ, for joining me once again! And to those reading this column. Do you have a favorite artistic moment in Fruits Basket? Tell us about it in the comments!

Fruits Basket MMF: Takaya et cetera

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While I like throwing a license request into the mix with every Manga Moveable Feast, it does occasionally feel like preaching to the choir. I mean, nobody needs me to remind them that, hey, it might be a good idea to publish more of Natsuki Takaya’s work because, hey, that crazy kid really seems to be on to something.

Since Fruits Basket, Takaya completed an 11-volume series called Hoshi wa Utau, which ran in Hakusensha’s Hana to Yume. It’s about a lonely orphan who finds solace in stargazing. Her life is complicated by the new boy in town. That doesn’t sound especially complicated, but brief descriptions of Takaya’s works rarely do them justice, so I think it’s safe to assume that she makes time to break readers’ hearts over and over again in the course of the story.

Takaya’s current series is also in Hana to Yume, and it’s called Liselotte to Majo no Mori. It’s about a girl who moves to a forest full of witches. She apparently does this on purpose. You can look at some sample pages here.

So that’s what’s lurking out there. I have to admit that I continue to wonder why Hakusensha doesn’t stake its own claim to the English-language market rather than relying on other licensors. I think we’re pretty much down to Viz in terms of Hakusensha publishing partners, what with CMX and Tokyopop gone.  Given how many popular-in-English series the publisher has generated over the years, you’d think they’d be interested in taking the commercial wheel.

 

Manga the week of 8/3

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Sorry for the list being a day late, Midtown didn’t update their Viz info right away and I wanted to ensure that I had the right titles there. (And no, still no Kodansha at Midtown.)

It’s a first week of the month, always the biggest. What have we got? Well, we’ve got the 2nd Card Captor Sakura omnibus from Dark Horse, finally staggering in after the usual eight or nine publishing delays. If it’s anything like Volume 1 was, it will be worth the wait – the series is fantastic, and DH’s reprint was flawless and worth a buy.

Presspop has an interesting release: the 1934 robot manga Tank Tankuro, a pioneering entry in almost everything. It’s an expensive hardcover with a slipcase, but with that sort of pedigree I imagine you want to pimp it a bit.

Vertical is cruising along in their release of Black Jack, with Volume 15 getting released next week. It originally ran in Weekly Shonen Champion, back when the magazine was not a haven for the lowest that manga has to offer. Of course, Black Jack is not afraid to get into some deep waters itself…

As always, the bulk of the week of Viz. We have a huge PILE of stuff. Most important to me is the 23rd volume of Gintama, which is the last currently scheduled in the States. It’s a low seller, and unlike other Viz low sellers, it’s shown no signs of ending in Japan anytime soon. So Viz is calling this the ‘Final Volume!’. Which it isn’t. Perhaps JManga might try continuing it there? Heh… In any case, Gintama, you were fantastically underrated, and I shall miss you.

There is, of course, a lot of new Jump manga that isn’t ending. Yu-Gi-Oh GX. Tegami Bachi. Slam Dunk. Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan. Bakuman. And Bleach, getting another 3-in-1 omnibus. Speaking of those, Fullmetal Alchemist gets another one as well, despite being the redheaded stepchild of this pack, being a Shonen Gangan title.

The shoujo end of the spectrum holds even more gems. New Ai Ore!, for Mayu Shinjo fans and apparently no one else. Haruka Beyond the Stream of Time 13, for readers who have difficulty getting to sleep at night. New Kaze Hikaru, for whose who wondered if Viz was trying to quietly bury it behind the forge. And new Otomen, where I’ll bet you two to one we’ll have no idea what Ryo is thinking.

In non-sarcastic manga out this week, we have new volumes of Kamisama Kiss, Natsume’s Book of Friends (which should be catching up with Japan soon at this rate…), Sakura Hime, the Story of Saiunkoku, and the penultimate volume of Seiho Boys’ High School.

And, in non-manga news, Archie Comics releases its big 400-page Best Of Archie Comics digest. I raise an eyebrow, as I’ve seen Archie’s idea of best-ofs before, but will let you know how it is.

Busy week! What are you getting?

Fruits Basket, Vols. 21-23

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As I recounted in this week’s Off the Shelf column, I have been a fan of Fruits Basket for nearly a decade now. I followed the end of the series in Japanese, and because I knew how it ended, I was able to postpone reading the final English volumes and delay the sad moment when the series really would be over. This week’s Manga Moveable Feast, however, prompted me to finally take the plunge.

Volume 21 is extremely tense, with Kyo continuing the story of how he redirected his feelings of guilt regarding the death of Tohru’s mother into a hatred of Yuki (just like his father redirected his own guilt in the death of his wife onto Kyo). Meanwhile, an ominous, knife-wielding Akito creeps up on their location. After Kyo seems to reject her feelings, Tohru runs off and crosses paths with Akito. A vitally important scene occurs between them in which Akito, weakened by lies and uncritical kindness perpetuated by various Sohma family members, is finally receptive to the kind of acceptance and sympathy Tohru offers. I’m a little disappointed that Tohru immediately falls off a cliff at this point, because that’s rather meloramatic, but I adore how urgently Akito attempts to summon help.

All of the Sohmas are worried, but none more so than Yuki (in cold fury mode) and Kyo (deeply grieving), who eventually have it out and end up finally confessing that they each aspired to be like the other. I love how this plays out, and I love that Yuki continues to nudge Kyo when necessary to ensure that Tohru ends up happy. Are they super pals by the end of the series? Not exactly, but they’ve definitely made their peace and come to an understanding. I’d say they’re closer than mere friends, actually, because they’ve gone through so much together, treasure the same person so much, and have finally realized that, despite appearances and insults, the person they are is valued by the other.

While Tohru recovers in the hospital, Kyo realizes that she’s given him something worth fighting his “fate” for. A visit to his father leads to paternal hysterics, but Kyo’s resolve is unshaken: he is going to live “outside,” no matter what. Meanwhile, Akito has made plans to demolish the isolation room. In the aforementioned Off the Shelf column, I wondered whether Akito’s actions might partly be due to some unconscious influence by the God who originally created the bond, as we later learn that he laments that something forged in love has now become a source of pain. He’s grateful to those who “shouldered that exhausted promise” for so long, and willingly lets them go. So, did he convince Akito in some way? Did Akito convince him? The latter would be more in line with the themes of the series, actually.

Uotani and Hanajima keep Kyo away from the hospital while Tohru is recuperating, since the mere mention of her name prompts her to start crying (she still believes he is disillusioned by her confession of love), but he’s finally tipped off regarding her release date and goes to see her. It’s an amazing scene: as Kyo heads there, he’s full of doubts and uncertainty regarding his own feelings, but the moment he sees her, everything is clear as day. “I love her.” I can’t help getting a bit choked up even discussing it, because it seems like I’m watching cherished friends finally find each other. They talk and work things out, and it is as lovely as can be. “I really do love you,” quoth Tohru, when Kyo warns he’ll probably cause her pain because the curse is still between them. “And that feeling is invincible.” They embrace and are profoundly shocked when Kyo does not transform. His curse is broken.

A wonderful chain-reaction montage ensues as the members of the Zodiac are freed in turn, with Yuki the last of all. “You’re the last,” says God. “Thank you. For keeping the very distant promise.” This happens just in time for Yuki, who had been on the verge of telling Machi about the curse, to embrace her in tears.

Loose ends are wrapped up in the final volume, more loose ends than I actually realized needed wrapping up, making for a very thorough and satisfying conclusion. It’s a little convenient that nearly everyone ends up romantically paired off by the end, with the exceptions of Momiji and Kagura, who are still not over their respective unrequited loves. Other things, however, aren’t wrapped up so neatly, with Rin unable to forgive Akito just yet, long-time family servants unable to adjust to the dissolution of the curse, and many painful feelings still remaining.

But, as a certain image reminded me, Takaya-sensei maintains the idea that “there is no such thing as a memory that’s okay to forget” to the end. The formerly cursed Sohma don’t need to forget what happened to them in the past in order to be happy in the future. Tohru believes this fully, collecting each of the beads from Kyo’s broken bracelet and displaying them as precious items alongside family portraits even until the day she and Kyo are lovey-dovey grandparents.

I cannot express enough how wonderful this series is. I feel so fortunate that I was able to witness the growth and transformation of such a memorable cast of characters, many of whom I dearly love.