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Oresama Teacher Volume 3

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By Izumi Tsubaki. Released in Japan by Hakusensha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Hana to Yume. Released in North America by Viz.

Another volume of Oresama Teacher, the antithesis of a cute and fluffy romance manga. There’s no romance here (beyond the implication that one of Mafuyu’s old classmates had a crush on her), but there’s plenty of laughs and action.

The majority of the third volume is about Mafuyu, who has discovered she has run out of food at her apartment, deciding to return home to mooch off her mother for the weekend. No sooner is she there, however, then she runs into the old turf war that she used to be deep in the middle of, as her old school is about to have a rumble with their rivals of West High. And what’s worse, she gets captured along with the current leaders! What’s a sweet young thing to do?

Good thing Mafuyu is not a sweet young thing. The two-page guide on how to escape as somebody is tying you up is not only genuinely useful, but is also hysterically funny. All of Mafuyu’s interaction with her two lieutenants is also comedy gold, as they manage to be stupider than she is, quite a feat if you’ve read the two previous volumes of this manga. Things are not helped by her being mocked by the bancho in charge of West High… who is, in the end, the only one sympathizing with her as well.

In the end, Mafuyu’s brief trip back home can only be just that, and she’s firmly told by her old crew that she’s not needed there any more. Naturally, she initially gets upset by this, but it’s for the traditional manga reasons of ‘it’s not your fight’ and needing to prove themselves without her… along with a big helping of having a crush, so wanting to protect her. Mafuyu doesn’t really need the protection (her punches can still knock guys out cold), but she’s thankful for this nevertheless.

A quick chapter follows showing her getting locked out of her apartment, and having to spend the night with Takaomi. Unfortunately, Takaomi is a very restless sleeper. If nothing else, this chapter may show us the most blood loss from an open head wound we’ve seen in a shoujo heroine – well, except maybe in Sukeban Deka. It’s a good thing this *is* a broad comedy, as the constant head injuries to Mafuyu, as well as her memory loss of even the most basic past events, might actually be tragic in any other context.

The final chapter seems more of a teaser for the next arc to begin in Volume 4, as we meet the Student Council and their charismatic leader Hanabusa. And when I say charismatic, this time I’m not just being descriptive, as his chief weapon is a charisma that borders on mind control. This chapter does see the welcome return of Hayasaka, who is mostly absent from this volume, and sees the two of them interacting like it’s old times. I look forward to seeing where this is going.

It’s fun seeing Tsubaki’s manga skills continue to improve as we move from the early volumes of The Magic Touch to the early volumes of Oresama Teacher. There’s less messy plotting and a more vibrant, modern Hana to Yume style heroine. But overall, the best reason to read this manga is still that it’s pure fun. Recommended.

Bookshelf Briefs 7/10/11

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This week, Kate, MJ, David, and Michelle are joined by new battle robot member Sean, as they check out new a host of releases from VIZ Media, Yen Press, and Seven Seas, as well as a few final stragglers from recently defunct TOKYOPOP.

Ai Ore!, Vol. 2 | By Mayu Shinjo | VIZ Media – I share David Welsh’s general disdain for romances in which one character tries to persuade the other that it’s “just a matter of time” before they get together, so it’s not a surprise that I found the second volume of Ai Ore! as punishing an ordeal as the first. Author Mayu Shinjo’s greatest misstep is confusing possessive behavior with manliness; Akira unironically calls Mizuki his “woman” so many times I’d swear he’s auditioning to play Stanley Kowalski. Adding insult to injury is Akira’s obsession with getting Mizuki into bed — no matter how many times she refuses him, Akira keeps hounding her to go all the way. Normally in a story this absurd, any nod to realism would be welcome, but here it’s an unpleasant reminder of just how retrograde the story’s sexual politics really are, and no amount of wacky hijinks or cool costumes can conceal that fact. – Katherine Dacey

Ai Ore!, Vol. 2 | By Mayu Shinjo | VIZ Media – Not long after I criticized its first volume, I spotted a conversation in which it was explained that Ai Ore! is intended as a parody. While I generally think that if you have to tell people that something is a parody, it’s not really working, reading through the series’ second volume I can see where that argument is coming from. Unfortunately, making fun of something doesn’t automatically translate into being smarter or better than it is, and this is where Ai Ore! goes horribly wrong for me. Even as it mocks some of shoujo manga’s sillier trends, it reinforces those that offend me most. Most tragically, however, all this parody and pandering is wrapped around what really could be a genuinely revealing look at the relationship between two teens whose bodies don’t conform to accepted gender norms. I would read this story eagerly. Unfortunately, that’s not the story being told. – MJ

Amnesia Labyrinth, Vol. 2 | By Nagaru Tanigawa and Natsumi Kohane | Seven Seas – I gave a mixed review to Volume 1 of this series, but unfortunately the second volume has lost even the slight amount of goodwill I had for the series. An extended dream sequence about 2/3 through just makes things even more muddled, and by separating Souji from Yukako you end up losing any sympathy you may have had for him in the first place. Evil doppelgangers molesting the heroine do add a frisson of discomfort to the proceedings – as does one sister trying to attack/seduce Souji while in a gas mask and military uniform – but this is an unpleasant mess overall. Fans of Tanigawa should stick with the Haruhi Suzumiya novels. – Sean Gaffney

Daniel X: The Manga, Vol. 2 | Story by James Patterson, Art by SeungHui Kye | Yen Press – The James Patterson book-making machine excels at cranking out dystopian teen fantasies in which seemingly ordinary kids possess tremendous, world-changing powers. Small wonder, then, that Yen Press has had such commercial success translating Patterson’s stories into graphic novels. Daniel X, their second Patterson adaptation, focuses on a fifteen-year-old with the ability to create objects with a thought. After his parents are killed by “an intergalactic criminal” — Yen’s words, not mine — Daniel vows to avenge their deaths, using his unique ability to find and destroy extra-terrestrials. The story and dialogue are thoroughly unsurprising — at least from an adult standpoint — but SeungHui Kye’s clean, attractive artwork, gooey aliens, and briskly-paced script will definitely appeal to younger teen readers. A good buy for a school or public library’s YA collection. – Katherine Dacey

Happy Cafe, Vol. 8 | By Kou Matsuzuki | Tokyopop – This is, of course, the final volume of Happy Cafe we’re getting in North America, even though the series ran for a further seven volumes in Japan. Another victim of the Tokyopop closure. It’s a type of manga I’ll miss from Hakusensha, the sort they only seemed to sell to TP and CMX. The plot isn’t that original, the characters are types, and there are far too many of them – here we meet a shy girl with a crush on a boy who has a crush on Uru, as well as Ichiro’s identical twin father – but it’s meat-and-potatoes shoujo that leaves you with a smile on your face and a warm heart. I’ll miss this sort of series. – Sean Gaffney

Ichiroh!, Vol. 5 | By Mikage | Yen Press – I stopped reading newspaper comics a long time ago, and reading the fifth volume of Ichiroh reminds me why I did: the four-panel strip is seldom conducive to good writing. There are plenty of exceptions — Neko Ramen, Peanuts — but more often than not, the format yields tepid jokes, recycled gags, and one-note characters whose personality traits annoy more than they endear. Although Ichiroh! has a more promising set-up than most, focusing on a group of slackers trying to clean up their act and get into college, it’s about as funny as Tank McNamara. Most of the humor depends on the audience’s investment in the characters; if you find Nanako and company cute, their squabbles might bring a smile to your face, but if you don’t, Ichiroh! will grate with the intensity of a Debbie Gibson song, as characters repeat the same behaviors with Sisyphean consistency. – Katherine Dacey

Kekkaishi 3-in-1, Vol. 2 | By Yellow Tanabe | VIZ Media – I’m very glad that Viz is providing an inexpensive entry point for this long-running title. Volumes four through six build a supernatural subculture for the demon-fighting heroes of the series, which yields some entertaining supporting characters, giving the stories additional variety. Chief among Tanabe’s many strengths as a creator is the fact that she has an excellent way with battle sequences. They never run too long, she comes up with great creature designs, the use of her heroes’ powers is imaginative, and the scenes are sprinkled with character-driven humor. You could hardly ask for anything more from battle shônen. The only weakness to this volume is that tough, level-headed Tokine doesn’t get quite as much focus as I’d like. She’s such a great partner for and foil to protagonist Yoshimori that it seems like a waste not to have her in the thick of things. – David Welsh

La Quinta Camera | By Natsume Ono | VIZ Media – The gifted Ono’s professional debut looks like not simple and reads like Gente, which is fine by me. A quartet of men shares an apartment in Italy, and we meet their friends, lovers, and boarders who move in and out of the apartment’s extra room. It’s good-natured slice of life, and I’ve always enjoyed Ono’s work in that category. (I actually enjoy Ono’s work in all categories, so I may not be the most unbiased judge of relative success.) What particularly strikes me about this work is the level of confidence that’s already in evidence. Ono reveals a lot by implication, making the characters’ moods and reactions evident without minute explications of their sources. It’s like the reader is observing their lives without the benefit of an omniscient narrator. You may not know everything there is to know, but you get everything you need to know. – David Welsh

Maid Shokun, Vol. 1 | By Akira Kiduki and Nanki Satou | TOKYOPOP – If you had told me a few weeks ago that I would enjoy a seinen series about pretty young women working in a maid café so much that I would seriously consider buying the rest of the series in Japanese just to see what happens, I would never have believed it. But it’s true! Maid Shokun charms by treating its characters not as objects for fanservice but as employees concerned with the success of their enterprise. Here, the café is a job, not merely an environment where wacky hijinks ensue, and plots revolve around issues like standards of service, interoffice dating, overzealous customers, and whether the establishment should be reclassified as adult entertainment and what that would mean. I’m genuinely bummed that more won’t be available in English, thanks to TOKYOPOP’s untimely demise. – Michelle Smith

Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan, Vol. 3 | By Hiroshi Shiibashi | VIZ Media – So, remember how in Nura‘s first chapter, protagonist Rikuo (¾ human boy, ¼ yokai) transformed into his yokai self, dealt competently with a rival who challenged his right to inherit leadership of the Nura yokai consortium, and then declared his intent to become Nura’s supreme commander? Well, all of that stuff happens again in volume three. It’s about time—ever since the plot was reset in chapter two (presumably due to the story getting picked up for serialization) it’s been working its way back to this point. I hope Rikuo’s resolution sticks this time and the story can progress, but for now I’m content with the fun cast of supporting characters, the added complication of Rikuo’s friend Kana crushing on his yokai form, and the fact that human Rikuo has started showing some gumption. – Michelle Smith

Pandora Hearts, Vol. 6 | By Jun Mochizuki | Yen Press – Though this volume begins on a serious note, it soon degenerates into utter goofiness as our heroes infiltrate a prestigious high school in order to reintroduce Oz to his younger sister, Ada. Even amidst complete silliness, however, this story finds its way back to the real horror at its core. Pandora Hearts is long on style but not short on substance, and that’s part of what makes it such a great read. That said, this volume’s blushing moe faces (both male and female) become a bit repetitive, and I could do without seeing Oz’s uncle Oscar in a high school uniform ever again. Fortunately, Mochizuki never leaves Dark Creepyville for long, and the volume’s two new characters show a lot of promise. Bring on the drama and gore, Pandora Hearts! – MJ

From the stack: Tenjo Tenge vol. 1

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From my point of view, there are tons of reasons to dislike Oh!great’s Tenjo Tenge, which is getting a second English-language release, this time from Viz. The first source of complaint, obviously, is its disastrous first English-language release from DC’s lamented CMX imprint. CMX edited the raunchy, violent series for content, which triggered outrage among members of the most likely core audience for the book.

That decision, hardly genius, gave CMX a permanent black eye among a number of particularly enthusiastic manga fans. No matter how many excellent titles they published, they were always the greedy, tone-deaf censors who violated the purity of Tenjo Tenge. (Repeat the last part of that sentence to yourself.) Years later, when DC cynically shuttered its manga imprint, people were still crowing that they got what they deserved for the shoddy way they treated the series. Of course, some of us couldn’t muster that particular brand of schadenfreude.

And, at the time the series first dropped, some of us were too busy being mildly revolted by the content of the series that survived the editing. And, beyond a negative qualitative assessment, we were left to wonder why DC would publish the series at all if they couldn’t adhere to the style and presentation of the original, since it was hard to imagine how it could be that much more tacky and obnoxious. It was still gross and juvenile and occasionally profoundly offensive, even with the softening.

Now, Viz is presenting the series in its shrink-wrapped, Parental-Advisory glory, because Viz can get away with that sort of thing, having built up a respectable catalog of mature and/or adult manga in addition to its vast reservoir of general-audience material. Please note the “and/or” I put between mature and adult, because it’s a continuum rather than a binary.

I would define “mature manga” as dealing with complex themes in thoughtful and imaginative ways. I would define “adult manga” as including explicit sex and graphic violence. A given title can certainly be both – Felipe Smith’s Peepo Choo (Vertical), Osamu Tezuka’s MW (also Vertical), several of Fumi Yoshinaga’s yaoi works. And describing a title as simply “adult” doesn’t automatically imply that it’s no good; a book can pander all it wants as long as it does so with energy and force. Kazuo Koike defines good adult manga for me, because I don’t find his works thematically challenging, but I do find them engrossing for their structure and the ways his storytelling inspires his collaborating illustrators.

From my point of view, Tenjo Tenge is dumb, pandering trash, and the dumbness is the most unforgiveable quality. It’s about stupid boys who like to kick ass. They muck up the needlessly complex ass-kicking caste system at their new school. Neither lead is particularly likeable, nor are any of the members of the school faction that takes the boys under their wings. The structure of the series is basically “violence, violence, crude humor, violence, female nudity, violence, repeat,” with a truly egregious rape scene thrown into the mix to make the boys sad that someone touched their stuff, also serving to show how evil their nemeses are. That may be the surest way to make me hate a piece of fiction, and Oh!great makes the sequence even more distasteful than usual. (I did wonder, back in the days of CMX’s visual amendments, if that scene would be more or less offensive without the superimposed undergarments. It’s exactly as offensive.)

At some point, I should probably try and disclaim that I’m simply not the audience for this kind of things, because I’m generally not. I can’t really bemoan the fact that thug-brawl manga hasn’t hit it big here, simply because I don’t care to read it. But I really think, even factoring in matters of personal taste, this is just lowbrow and lazy and gross. I’m perfectly capable of liking adult manga. I’m just not in the market for bad adult manga.

(This review is based on a complimentary copy provided by the publisher.)

The Wallflower Volume 25

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By Tomoko Hayakawa. Released in Japan as “Yamato Nadeshiko Shichihenge” by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Bessatsu Friend (“Betsufure”). Released in North America by Kodansha Comics.

In a welcome if slightly odd return, the Wallflower manga is back to individual volumes, after a brief omnibus format for the prior three. So we only get one volume of fun here, but it’s a very good one, giving the reader all the humor they need, and even a few romantic bones thrown. Be aware, though: they’re only bones. The series is still running and still not resolving.

The first chapter continues on from the end of 24, where Kyohei kissed Sunako at a party. Despite his insistence that it was merely a ruse to distract people, she’s in full-blown “darkness take this creature of the light” mode and curses him. Strangely enough, the curse seems to WORK – Kyohei feels increasingly ill, and we see (though others cannot) the creepy spirits of young girls attaching themselves to his back. This chapter manages to combine everything good about Wallflower. The spirits are genuinely creepy and unsettling, the explanation for who they really are is hilarious, and Sunako has to admit that she was wrong to curse him and stave off the spirits, in what becomes a very sexy scene. And then they’re both hospitalized. Of course.

In the next chapter it’s Halloween, and Noi has another one of her cunning plans, which somehow always seem to end up about as cunning as Baldrick’s. (This is, I think the 5th Halloween in the manga, showing that the series is very much not running in realistic time.) She shows Sunako this great fake tree with skeletons attached to it, and notes that it’s the prize in a competition. Of course, it’s a modelling competition. Sunako does her best, and seeing her as a goth loli babydoll is so jarring it almost becomes parody, but still lacks confidence in her looks. As always it’s Kyohei to the rescue, even in the hospital, but the resolution is not what Noi wanted at all…

Speaking of Noi, she then gets a focus chapter with the gang all going hunting for Matsutake mushrooms. After approximately 10-11 chapters with Noi feeling unworthy of being Takenaga’s girlfriend, we now have her worried about taking things farther. It’s actually a rather interesting reminder that of the seven main characters, only four are still virgins – clearly this is not a series aimed at otaku guys. :) Of course, the only male in that group is Takenaga, and he still wants to wait, especially after the gang eats some poison mushrooms, and Noi starts trying to seduce him with her sexy. “Not like this,” he says. All ends well, but those frustrated at the lack of romantic progress with Kyohei and Sunako can be equally frustrated that Takenaga and Noi are equally slow.

The last chapter is Christmas (again? wasn’t Christmas in the last volume?), and involves many of our favorite themes. Noi and Tamao (Ranmaru’s fiancee, who is rarely named in the manga itself) are trying to knit handmade gifts, but are thwarted by being a beginner (Noi) or having Ranmaru admit he hates handmade stuff (Tamao). Sunako doesn’t have their issues, but Kyohei is also depressed by all of this talk of handmade gifts, as it reminds him of his past with his mother – one that ended badly. And poor Yuki is just upset that he can’t get a hold of his girlfriend at all. Naturally, all is resolved in the end with Sunako’s help, and the final chapter ends with a big Christmas toast from all four couples (well, OK, Sunako is more surprised than toasting).

If you want another great volume of Wallflower antics, this will give it to you. it’s a lot of fun. If you want character development or resolution of anything, may I recommend a nice cup of tea instead?

The Best Manga You’re Not Reading: Samurai Crusader

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Whenever I see Ryoichi Ikegami’s name attached to a project, I know two things: first, that the manga will be beautifully illustrated, and second, that the plot will be completely nuts. Samurai Crusader, a globe-trotting, name-dropping adventure from the early 1990s, provides an instructive example. The story revolves around a young martial artist who teams up with struggling novelist Ernest Hemingway — yes, that Ernest Hemingway — to prevent an unscrupulous Japanese general from invading Shanghai with Nazi assistance. And if the thought of Hemingway as a butt-kicking action hero isn’t crazy enough, Ikeda and writer Hiroi Oji populate the story with such colorful bit players as a sadistic female military general, a bare-breasted priestess, an axe-wielding Aryan warrior, a demon whisperer, and a ninja with razor-sharp teeth. Ikeda and Oji don’t skimp on the cameos, either; Pablo Picasso, Joseph Goebbels, and Hermann Goering all have brief but memorable walk-on roles, as do Hitler and Emperor Akihito.

This motley assortment of characters are all chasing Kusanagi, a Japanese sword so expertly crafted that it can sever a canon in two. But Kusanagi isn’t just an elegant weapon; it’s a mystical object, capable of bestowing great power on its owner. The Nazis and the Japanese military alike believe that Kusanagi is the key to world domination, and double-cross each other in hopes of stealing it from the Oritsuin clan, a noble Japanese family. Kumomaru, the youngest member of the Oritsuins, is determined to stop both parties from abusing Kusanagi’s power, racing from Paris to Shanghai in a valiant effort to foil Japanese imperial ambitions in China. Along the way Kumomaru befriends Hemingway, beds a sexy French cat burglar, and falls in with a gang of Chinese warriors who disguise themselves as cooks. (As a sign of just how badass these cook-warriors are, each high-ranking solider in the organization has a dragon tattoo… on his tongue.)

As awesomely silly as the plot may be, the real attraction of Samurai Crusader is the art. The period settings provide Ikegami a swell excuse to draw zeppelins and biplanes, Nazi uniforms and samurai formal wear, French ballrooms and Chinese dives. No detail goes overlooked; even the most inconsequential characters’ clothing is meticulously rendered, and the street lamps in every city are drawn with such care as to distinguish a Parisian boulevard from a Shanghai corner.

The character designs, too, are arresting in their specificity; Ikegami’s great strength as an artist is his ability to convey character through odd facial features and posture, whether he’s drawing a crooked industrialist or a street urchin. Though his lead characters are impossibly attractive, Ikegami’s best creation, by far, is Juzo, a stealthy martial artist with the most distinctive set of choppers since James Bond crossed paths with Jaws. Juzo’s shark-like teeth, wild hair, and demonic squint make him an excellent foil for the handsome Kumomaru; Juzo moves with the lethal precision of a cobra, twisting his body into extraordinary positions to better deploy his arsenal of knives, wires, words, and pistols. Oh, and those teeth? They make swell weapons, too.

The only downside to Samurai Crusader is the dialogue. Though the story unfurls at a furious pace, the story grinds to a halt whenever Kumomaru crosses paths with his arch-nemesis, the deluded General Kamishima. Their all-caps exchanges feel more like policy discussions than real arguments, despite Ikegami’s best efforts to stage the scenes as dramatically as possible. Sweat drops bead, veins pulse and pop, but Ikegami can’t disguise the fact that these speeches are kind of a drag. (Sample: “Independence for all of Asia should be the way of Japan! We need national self-determination!”) What redeems these windy passages are the shoot-outs, tank fights, and sword play that proceed and follow them; aside from John Woo and Andrew Lau, few people can make bloodletting look as elegant as Ikegami does.

Perhaps the best way to summarize Samurai Crusader‘s appeal is to say that it has all the virtues of Crying Freeman and Wounded Man — crazy action scenes, sexy leads, mustache-twirling villains — without the copious nudity and sexual violence that can give even the most committed manga fan pause. Readers interested in tracking down copies should note that all three volumes of Samurai Crusader are out of print, though reasonably priced copies are readily available on Amazon and eBay. Highly recommended.

SAMURAI CRUSADER: THE KUMOMARU CHRONICLES, VOLS. 1-3 • STORY BY HIROI OJI, ART BY RYOICHI IKEGAMI • VIZ COMMUNICATIONS, INC. • NO RATING

Sayonara, Zetsubou-sensei Volume 9

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By Koji Kumeta. Released in Japan by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Weekly Shonen Magazine. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics.

Fans of this series may know that the translator/adaptor for the first four volumes was Joyce Aurino. She then left, and as of Volume 5 the translator was David Ury. Well, either Kodansha has a policy of switching up every few volumes, or this series burns translators out faster than most (the latter is more likely), as we now have a third translator, Joshua Weeks. Joshua has translated Pink Innocent, I Am Here!, and Panic x Panic for Del Rey in the past. How will he be able to handle the adaptation nightmare that is Zetsubou-sensei?

Well, for the most part, pretty well. The one piece of bad news is that there are even fewer endnotes than ever. I think Kodansha has realized that most folks don’t care who Mitsui-kun is or why he was hospitalized, and that explaining these would make the book 26 pages longer. For the most part the ‘Despair list’ references are ignored, and we just get footnotes when it’;s an important piece of plot or dialogue, such as Setsubun, or Giri Chocolate. I think I’m fighting a losing battle caring about this, so will try to shut up from now on.

That said, the actual translation is pretty excellent. Nozomu is despairing again, something that makes me happier than words can say. Kiri’s “Don’t Open” is also back to sounding more like what I was used to with earlier volumes. In general, though, it’s an excellent translation because I didn’t really notice it. There weren’t the continuity errors of past volumes that made me angry that Del Rey never credited an editor. (Kodansha does not either, in case you were curious.) So hooray, I am pleased and can now move on to talking about the actual volume.

The volume starts off with three very “Japanese” stories, and they’re possibly the weakest in the collection. That said, I was amused at Rin’s cherry chocolate factory, a giant cynical snarl at the Valentine’s Day industry in Japan. As the chapters go on we begin to discuss issues that are more “universal”, such as overaccessorizing, biased viewpoints, and the concept of “overcharging”. My two favorites were the ones that resonated with me the most, as Nozomu talks about people who try to look down on their betters with condescension, and trying to pretend that major decisions and announcements are really no big deal.

As the series has gone on, we’ve moved from a series driven by the insanity of its cast to one where it’s all about observational humor, so it’s no surprise that there’s not as much to discuss here character-wise. There are no major murder sprees from Chiri; in fact, her scariest moment is in a courtroom scene where she proves that the line between funny and terrifying is microscopically thin. We do see Jinroku-sensei has a huge tattooed back (implying he was once a yakuza, though this isn’t in the notes), and see the dangers of Chie-sensei being the serious type who doesn’t usually joke. My favorite character bit of humor was probably Manami, who’s absent from the overcharging chapter because she’s far too busy with housework, noting “Housewives don’t have time to recharge.”

Oh yes, one other reference I loved that wasn’t spelled out. As this volume was being written, the first anime series was broadcast. This meant that some of the characters were becoming associated with their voice actresses. Particularly Rin, who Kumeta Koji was very amused to see was voiced by Akiko Yajima, best known in Japan as “Crayon Shin-chan”. As a result, at the end of this volume and in subsequent ones, Rin will appear with her ass facing the reader, in tribute to Shin-chan’s tendencies. (Rin also joins the class as a student this volume, but will continue to be a “semi-regular”, only showing up when she needs to.)

I could go on about this series for a while, as you can see. And I’m pleased to see that many of the issues I had with prior volumes in terms of the editing and continuity seem to have been sorted out. Definitely recommended (though if you read Japanese, google for the Kumetan Wiki to find all the references you’re missing).

Kimi ni Todoke Volume 9

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By Karuho Shiina. Released in Japan by Shueisha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Bessatsu Margaret (“Betsuma”). Released in North America by Viz.

I had a lot of questions at the end of Volume 8 that I wanted answered. Luckily, most of them are answered here, as we get a lot of resolution to various plot tentacles and head closer towards our leads becoming a couple. Though, word of warning, we still aren’t there yet.

I know that the focus of this volume is Sawako and Kazehaya, but I have to start off here by talking about Kento. Given that our two leads have so much trouble communicating, it’s somehow incredibly appropriate that everything that goes wrong in this volume (as well as one last thing going right) is the result of Kento simply talking and talking and NEVER SHUTTING UP. He is cheerfully trying to do what he thinks is best for everyone – but he’s wrong, and it takes the entire volume and a giant slap in the face from Kurumi (I hope people cheered) to make him see that. And so, when he realizes that his big mouth and misconceptions have screwed over everyone to date? He immediately goes to Sawako to talk to her some more, and tell her that he was totally wrong and he wished her good luck with Kazehaya. He’s such a contrast to everyone else in this manga my jaw almost drops.

Speaking of Kurumi, I never thought she’d become an audience identification character, but her ran to Sawako halfway through the book could almost have been the reader in many ways. It’s very easy to feel bad for her, even if you did dislike her at first. After all that sneaking around, she confessed straight out – and was rejected straight out. And now seeing the girl that she was rejected for being a giant coward is just too much to bear.

Is she really being cowardly, though? In many ways the entire plot of this series is ‘poor communication kills’, but nowhere is it hammered home more than in this volume, where not a page goes by without Kazehaya or Sawako misinterpreting each other, due to lack of confidence, poor verbal skills, and a whole lot of assumptions. It’s less surprising with Sawako, whose poor interpersonal skills are brought up when it’s noted how far she’s come with everyone EXCEPT Kazehaya. As for him, he gets less sympathy from most of the cast, especially Pin, who rather cruelly tells him to “just give up on her.”

Ayane and Chizu don’t get as much to do here except worry about their friend and constantly try to stop Kento from opening his mouth. Ayane’s reaction to Kento admitting he may have screwed things up is the comedic highlight of the volume. And Ryu too is almost absent, but that’s because he only gets involved when absolutely necessary – his line to Sawako “I don’t know if I should be saying this, but you need to explain yourself better.” is of course the entire book condensed into one remark. It’s also great that he tells her where Kazehaya is at the end.

“Did my words say what I wanted them to?” And so Sawako rushes off to find Kazehaya, and tracks him down to their classroom. And then… the book ends, in what is possibly one of the most frustrating cliffhangers I’ve seen in manga. We *desperately* want to see this resolved, want these two to finally get it, to see what they mean to each other. But now we must wait for Volume 10. In the meantime, what a great series.

The Prince of Tennis 40-42 by Takeshi Konomi

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Although the final three volumes of The Prince of Tennis contain many ridiculous things and are, objectively speaking, really not that good, I still think the story wraps up reasonably well.

Volume 40 begins with the tail end of the set between Seishun’s captain, Tezuka, and Sanada of the Rikkai team. Tezuka is dragging things out to buy time for absentee Ryoma to arrive, and ultimately ends up losing. Then Momoshiro and Kaidou lose, but not before we get this sentence that has never been written before at any time in the course of human history: “The tornado snake won’t work against a player with red eyes.” Good to know, that.

Fuji is up next, taking on a player with the ability to mimic anyone’s ability. And who should he emulate but Tezuka, so we get a match that is drawn like the two of these guys playing against each other. Somehow I think this was intended to appeal to the fujoshi, but I’m certainly not complaining. “Maybe we’ve both been avoiding facing off against each other. Because we’re afraid of finding out who’s better,” Fuji thinks at one point. Too bad the promise of a real face-off between them is not realized before the end of the series.

Fuji wins, so we move briskly on to the second doubles round, and somewhere around here Ryoma arrives with, and I am quoting the back cover here, “a wicked case of amnesia.” It’s completely stupid, and while Oishi and Eiji stall for time, various players (including rivals) go reacquaint Ryoma with his tennis memories by playing him off-camera. Why even employ an amnesia plot if it’s going to be cured so simply? It just makes me shake my head.

Anyway, it should be no surprise to anyone at all that Ryoma regains his memory and, though he starts off his match at a disadvantage, he soon summons the ultimate skill—“the pinnacle of perfection”—with which to vanquish his opponent. (Everyone can tell that he has achieved this because white light bursts from his body. As it often does in tennis.) And Ryoma’s dad drops by to tell everyone this is happening because Ryoma is playing simply for the joy of the game, and so that everyone can finally learn that Ryoma is the son of the famous Samurai Nanjirou. So, Seishun wins and there’s a montage while the lyrics of a song penned by Takeshi Konomi scroll by. It’s all very silly. There’s also a brief prose epilogue depicting the third years’ graduation.

I just really don’t know what to say about The Prince of Tennis at this point. In the pursuit of ways to make games even more exciting, Konomi crossed my personal “suspension of disbelief” border with all these physically observable glowy states. Somehow, I was willing to accept Inui making instant probability calculations or Tezuka being able to control his spin so well that all return shots come directly to his location, but make a guy sparkly and have someone in the stands cry, “L-look at that! All his aura’s concentrated around his left arm!!” and it’s suddenly too much for me to take. Still, it’s not like the series was ever so fabulous that I’m actively disappointed. Just resigned.

Anyway, thus concludes The Prince of Tennis. The sequel, Shin Prince of Tennis (“Shin” means “new”), is currently serialized in Jump SQ magazine. The fifth collected volume came out in March of this year. It lamentably remains unlicensed for US release.

License request day: Crest of the Royal Family

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You’ve all asked yourself this question, don’t deny it. “What,” you’ve wondered, “would happen if a blond-haired, blue-eyed American teen-ager was inadvertently sent back in time to Ancient Egypt?” As with so many unanswered questions in this life, manga can help you. Specifically, Chieko Hosokawa can help you with Crest of the Royal Family, which has been in serialization in Akita Shoten’s Princess Magazine since 1976.

“Tell me more!” you plead. Well, I’ll let Wikipedia do the initial heavy lifting, because if anyone’s going to be accused of making crazy stuff up, at least Wikipedia is used to those charges:

The main character is Carol, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed American teenager from a wealthy family with an interest in Egyptology studying in Cairo. When her mentor discovers the tomb of a young pharaoh, a curse is put on the excavation team and Carol. The curse sends her back in time to ancient Egypt, where she becomes embroiled in the affairs of Egypt and other ancient countries such as Assyria and Babylonia. Carol meets Memphis, a handsome young pharaoh whose tomb she excavated in modern times. Despite his headstrong and at first violent nature, they fall deeply in love. This angers Memphis’s half-sister, the Priestess Isis, who has longed to marry him. Carol, due to her exotic looks and curious ability to tell the future, becomes a major player in ancient history.

Now I ask you, what sane person could resist thousands of pages of glittery political intrigue set in the cradle of civilization? (Don’t answer that. Seriously. If you’ve started to type a rueful, knowing comment to the effect that there’s simply no market for this kind of thing, I beg you to stop, because that is decidedly not in The Spirit of the Thing.)

From what I can gather, Carol gets kidnapped a lot. Blond hair and a knack for Egyptology only carry one so far in this life, or past lives, and her seemingly eerie prescience gets her in a lot of trouble.

This may be the longest shôjo series I’ve ever seen. The 55th volume was published a little over a year ago, and most sources indicate that it’s ongoing, but I’m not sure. As near as I can tell, it’s never been adapted into an anime series, which makes its enduring presence in Princess even more intriguing. I’m sure things slog along the way, and most sources indicate that Carol can be a victim with a capital “V,” not to mention the fact that the whole “Let’s listen to the white lady, she must know things” notion could get deeply offensive.

But really, over 50 volumes of ancient Egyptian faux-history glazed over with shôjo sparkle? I know it will probably never happen, but I’d totally read it if it did.

Off the Shelf: Getting Better All The Time

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MJ: Well, hello Michelle! Once again, it feels like forever since we’ve been here!

MICHELLE: It does! Why do we ever leave, anyway? We could just dwell safe within our little Off the Shelf cocoon.

MJ: Sounds like bliss.

MICHELLE: Doesn’t it? Stupid real life.

So let’s distract ourselves! Got any completely made-up drama that you’d like to contemplate for a while?

MJ: I do, but you first!

MICHELLE: Well, if you insist!

Not only are both of my selections this evening published by Kodansha Comics, but each is also the first volume of a new series and based on a CAPCOM video game. I’m not much of a game aficionado, so I can’t speak to how well these manga do at capturing the essence of their respective game universes, but I can at least consider how they work for new readers. I’ll start with Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, a five-volume seinen series that originally ran in Bessatsu Young Magazine. I’ve never played the game, but I do love a good mystery, so I hoped that I would like this manga very much. Alas, it was not to be.

Phoenix Wright is a defense attorney who is beginning to make a name for himself. He has a plucky female assistant, Maya Fey, and as the volume begins, they are checking out a wind chime festival. There, Phoenix runs into his acquaintance Larry, a real trouble magnet, and his new girlfriend. They seem happy, but two days later, Phoenix is defending Larry in a trial. Yes, in those two days, Larry has been arrested for the crime of murdering his girlfriend’s former lover and the case has already gone to trial. Evidence is presented swiftly, with Phoenix unaware of most of it, until he eventually solves the case in the courtroom and elicits a dramatic confession. (Incidentally, it was completely obvious from the outset who the real culprit was, so readers are forced to just tag along until Phoenix catches up.)

Next, Phoenix is summoned to the house of a rich businessman who expects to be charged in the death of an employee. He’s got a suspicious family, including a snooty wife, a rebellious daughter, and a creepy brother who lives on the premises in a building full of spider specimens. There’s potential for a diverting little mystery here, but once again, everything just falls flat.

“Fun” is the key ingredient that is missing so far. This is not a serious series, and one shouldn’t go in looking for depth or realism, but it should at least be fun to read. Instead, the word that best describes it is “blah.” All it would take to liven things up would be characters with some personality or some clever cases, but I don’t hold out much hope of either.

MJ: It’s surprising to hear that this manga is so uninteresting, considering how much media the franchise has spawned. Surprising and depressing, I have to say.

MICHELLE: It’s possible that it will work better for fans of the original game. Sean Gaffney enjoyed the volume, for example. I will at least give it another volume to hook me, but it may be that it’s not just my thing.

Okay, now it’s your turn!

MJ: Okay! Well, I’ll start with the most self-consciously dramatic of my week’s selections, which would be the first volume of Hotaru Odagiri’s The Betrayal Knows My Name, just released by Yen Press.

As selfless orphan Yuki is preparing to move out of the orphanage he grew up in, so as to cease being a burden to anyone, he meets members of a supernaturally-talented “family” who change his life forever. As it turns out, Yuki is the reincarnation of the “light of God,” a member of this same “family” with the power to heal other people’s wounds by taking them on himself. He also meets a “duras” (demon) named Zess (aka “Luka”) who he has dreamt about repeatedly, and who is strongly hinted to have been Yuki’s lover in their previous lives. Eventually, Yuki realizes that he’s really found his family, and agrees to move to the group’s mansion to join their battle against a demonic foe.

Oh, Michelle, if only I’d read this when I was thirteen, I think I would have eaten it up with a spoon. The story is earnestly dark and melodramatic, the UST level is high, and the character designs are the sequential art equivalent of the pages of Tiger Beat magazine. Unfortunately, as a jaded 40-something, I spent most of the series’ triple-sized first volume sighing heavily and rolling my eyes.

The series reads something like Ze with an actual plot, which sounds like a positive thing on the face of it, but without the true, dramatic seriousness of a teenager to lend a helping hand, everything just feels too carefully contrived to be believed. Even sexy love interest, Zess, is too obviously crafted for its target audience. Having fallen for Yuki’s soul in female form during their former lives, he manages to provide homoerotic excitement while still appearing accessible to female readers. Perfect? Maybe. But as an older reader, it’s a bit hard to take.

On the plus side, somewhere around three-quarters of the way in, I found myself getting sucked into the delicious drama anyway, so there may be addictive potential for all!

MICHELLE: I’m sorry to hear about the sighing and eyerolling, since I picked this as one of my Picks of the Week not too long ago. Is there anything that would be a problem for a thirteen-year-old reader? I know a teen that might enjoy it.

MJ: Not that I can recall. It’s certainly no more “adult” than, say, Flowers in the Attic, which was definitely part of my 13-year-old library. And, you know, I make a fuss, but as I said, I was pretty well engrossed by the end.

So what’s your other Kodansha offering for the evening?

MICHELLE: The first volume of Monster Hunter Orage (“Orage” is French for “thunderstorm.”) by Hiro Mashima, creator of Fairy Tail, which I’ve previously discussed in this space. Of my two choices this week, this is the one I thought I might not care for much which, of course, ended up being thoroughly enjoyable.

Openings don’t get much shounenier than this one, where a small boy is told, “Your weapon has the power to capture your dreams.” The boy is called Shiki and the speaker is his master, a man named Greylee who promises to teach him everything there is about monster hunting. While they’re training, Greylee also emphasizes the importance of having companions one trusts. Greylee dies in an accident before Shiki’s training is complete, but he’s learned enough to receive a special tattoo that marks him as a Seal Hunter, a hunter privileged to travel and hunt at his own discretion. (Other hunters operate through a guild on an assignment basis very similar to that seen in Fairy Tail)

Some years later, Shiki arrives in town with a list that says 1) arrive in town and 2) find comrades at the guild. Shiki proceeds to step two and, although no one is much impressed when he clambers atop a table and issues a rallying cry for comrades, he ends up following one of the strongest (and most solitary) hunters, a girl named Ailee, and piquing her interest by believing in the same dragon legend she does. As they begin their quest, they meet Sakya, the daughter of a famous armorer. After they defeat a monster responsible for killing Sakya’s father, she joins the team.

What makes Monster Hunter Orage so refreshing is its characters. Shiki is a hero in the style of One Piece‘s Luffy, in that he’s fearless and optimistic and has no preconceived notions about anyone. Of course Ailee could be a thoroughly badass hunter and of course Sakya could be a thoroughly badass armorer! What does their being female have to do with it? I also love how Mashima depicts others’ reactions to Shiki—at first his grandiose declarations about comrades are ignored, but eventually his enthusiasm begins to win people over. He’s got magnetism. Lastly, though it’s a little cheesy that Ailee turns out to be Greylee’s daughter, this is handled in an interesting way, with Ailee realizing Shiki is the boy she was always jealous of because of how much time her dad spent with him, and Shiki realizing that this is the girl he always envied for having such loving parents. There’s no inkling of romance yet, just a trio of friends going off to slay a dragon. And lo, it is good.

MJ: That sounds good indeed! What a treat, after your first Kodansha pick. So, since you’ve already likened the story’s hero to that of One Piece, you know I had trouble getting into that series in the beginning, but it sounds like this hits its stride right away. That’s pretty enticing.

MICHELLE: It does! It’s also only four volumes long, which is much easier to commit to than One Piece and its 62+ volumes! It would also be great for teens; in fact, I wrote my local YA librarian immediately about it, since Fairy Tail is popular with patrons.

I could feign ignorance here about your second book of the evening, but I happen to know that we’re in for a bit of squee regarding the sixth and final volume of Time and Again. Right?

MJ: Yes, we certainly are. When I look back at my review of Time and Again‘s first volume, it’s pretty astounding to see note far this series has come in just six volumes. Though I liked it from the start, none of my initial criticism, from the underdeveloped leads to the confusing visual storytelling, is evident in the slightest here by series’ end. In fact, I’d have to count Time and Again as one of my favorite comics of any kind in the past two years, and this final volume is a perfect example of why.

Finally the full truth comes out regarding Baek-On’s past, revealing for the first time how he really became the man we met at the beginning of the series, but more importantly, revealing the man he will be to his death and why that is so important. Previously, I thought that no character arc could be more heartbreaking than Ho-Yeon’s, but boy was I wrong. I cried through a major portion of this volume, though this manhwa is far from syrupy.

Time and Again kicks you in the gut with elegant brutality, just as karma does its doomed protagonists. Yet if there’s any coherent feeling I came away with at the story’s end, I’d have to say it was “hope.” For once, it’s not just the slasher in me that appreciates a story’s male bonding. There’s just something incredibly comforting about the thought that two people doomed to spend their lives alone don’t actually have to be lonely.

I could certainly go on about the progressive maturity of Yun’s storytelling and her powerful skill with expression, but mostly I just want to sigh contentedly and begin the series all over again. That’s how much I’ve enjoyed it.

MICHELLE: I love the phrase “elegant brutality.” This is what I was talking about in my review when I said that though it’s an exceedingly sad and painful story, Yun is not reveling in the pain. The way she tells it is almost matter-of-fact, and then the enormity of what it means for Baek-On slowly sinks in. And, as it does, readers come to realize what the title has meant all this time.

MJ: I think one of the most compelling reasons I have for wanting to start the series over with fully knowledge of Baek-On’s story, is to see how he deals with karma from the beginning. It’s been a theme throughout the series, but only at the end do we really understand.

MICHELLE: Yes, same here. Plus, now that we know what happened with the girl in his past (Wan), I want to see how that informs his behavior towards women and relationships with others in general.

MJ: Yes, I do too!

I feel like this column has traveled on a steady incline from kinda bad to definitely great. Not too shabby, eh?

MICHELLE: Not at all! It’s, like, an omen or something.

MJ: Well, let’s hope so!

The Phoenix and the Carpet by E. Nesbit

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From the back cover:
It’s startling enough to have a Phoenix hatch in your house, but even more startling when it reveals you have a magic carpet on the floor. Conceited it may be, but the Phoenix is also good-hearted, and obligingly accompanies the children on their adventures through time and space—which, magic being what it is, rarely turn out as they were meant…

Review:
The Phoenix and the Carpet (1904) is the second book in the trilogy that begins with Five Children and It. It’s November now and the children—Cyril, Anthea, Robert, Jane, and baby brother “the Lamb”—are back at home in Camden Town. One day, after a small fire ruins their nursery carpet, their mother buys a new one from which emerges a shiny yellow egg. And when that egg falls into the fire, a talking Phoenix is hatched who informs them that the new carpet is actually magic and can take them wherever they’d like to go.

As with the first book in the trilogy, most of the story is comprised of the wishes the children make and their often unexpected outcomes. They wish to go abroad, for example, so the carpet takes them to visit a topless tower in France, where Robert promptly gets stuck on a window ledge. On another occasion, the cook accidentally accompanies them on a trip to a sunny shore and ends up being worshipped by the natives. Other wishes involve visits to India and a plethora of Persian cats.

What’s different this time is that more of the wishes are linked. When the children wish to do a bit of good, they find themselves back in France, where they find the rightful owners of the treasure hidden in the tower. And when a would-be burglar is arrested on suspicion of having stolen said Persian cats, the children rescue him from jail and convey him to the sunny shore, whereupon he promptly falls in love with the cook and they get married on the spot. The emphasis on helping people makes this installment of the series a little more like The Railway Children, which still remains my favorite Nesbit book.

While the adventures are fun—my very favorite is not a wish at all, but a visit the children make with the Phoenix to a fire insurance company who uses his likeness for their logo—Nesbit’s writing is really the main draw here. It’s warm, observant, and clever simultaneously, eliciting many a giggle. I love this evocative line about a cast-aside bit of correspondence:

”The letter… lay on the table, drinking hot bacon fat with one corner and eating marmalade with the other.”

That line not only conjures a vivid mental picture, but tells you something about the letter’s recipients, as well. And, indeed, the characterization of the children is more defined in this second outing, with the two eldest (Cyril and Anthea) showing signs of increased maturity. Nesbit never idealizes the children—“The children were not particularly handsome, nor were they extra clever, nor extraordinarily good. But they were not bad sorts on the whole.”—and their imperfections are what make them likeable. When they discover that sometimes things can get worn out through striving to please, one gets the sense that they’ve learned an Important Lesson about consideration without it coming across as some sort of moral.

Though less famous, The Phoenix and the Carpet is actually better than the first book in the trilogy, and I am definitely looking forward to the third and final installment.

Bamboo Blade Volume 9

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By Masahiro Totsuka and Aguri Igarashi. Released in Japan by Square Enix, serialized in the magazine Young Gangan. Released in North America by Yen Press.

I had mentioned in my review of Volume 8 that much of it was a setup for this being a meeting of two mismatched teams, and that I expected our heroes to spend most of the competition kicking asses. And indeed, that’s pretty much what I get here – well, at least until 3/4 of the way through it. But for that 3/4, it’s pretty much fantastic kendo action.

We begin with Azuma versus Chikamoto, which manages to be one of the few tense matches here, mostly as Chikamoto is the exception to most of the rest of her team. We can see her frustration as she realizes that Azuma is much, much better than she is – to the point where she recalls Azuma winning against someone who had previously beaten her in a competition, but can’t recall who beat her.

We then get what is, for me, the highlight of the volume. I’ve not tried to hide the fact that Miya-Miya is absolutely my favorite character in this series, and her split personality, angry snarling, and blunt honesty have been quite refreshing compared to her honest and forthright kendo leads. In Volume 8 we saw her training, and it was noted that she was shaping up well for a total novice. More to the point, Reimi has a cold, so is sick at home and not there to be a horrible distraction. As we see her fight, she scores a point, and is wise enough to realize that it only just barely landed, so didn’t feel “good enough.”

Counterpointing this is her arrogant opponent, who can tell that she'[s a beginner by her footwork, but can’t actually seem to do anything with that knowledge. And so, after giving up a point to stay even, Miya-Miya strikes, and gets the win. This is, in fact, her first win in the entire series. And she realizes… it’s an incredible feeling. Seeing the look of pure joy on her face, unshrouded by cynicism or anger, is worth the price of the book.

And so it goes through the match, with even Dan and Yuuji getting to play this time – and thrashing their opponents. And so finally we get Tamaki versus Takeshi, the sullen boy whose poor attitude has symbolized the spirit of the entire team. He has the most talent on the team, but lacks any will to fight. But even with that, Tamaki crushes him far too easily. So he notes the cords in his padding were loose, and asks for a rematch. And she does it again. Then the cords are actually too tight. So she beats him AGAIN. Then he stops trying to find excuses, and just starts demanding match after match. And slowly but surely, has a complete nervous breakdown as it becomes apparent just how far he’s fallen.

For the kids on the team it’s a vaguely happy ending – Takeshi is quitting, but he’s going back to a dojo to relearn the passion he had lost. And the rest of the team, now led by Chikamoto, is training much harder than before. I wish I could say that was it for the volume, but of course we have the match between Kojiro and Ishibashi. Which after the fantastic kendo action of the prior chapters, is a complete washout. The writer apologized in the afterword for there being too much focus on guys in this volume, but I had no issue with Takeshi’s plotline. Making Ishibashi into a complete comedic idiot, however, simply doesn’t work, and devoting almost an entire chapter to his and Kojiro’s post-match shenanigans makes it end on a poor note.

Still, it’s 3/4 of a volume of awesome, and you get to see the whole of Kojiro’s kendo team do an excellent job. Which is good timing, because the cliffhanger for Volume 10 suggests television might be in their future…

Manga the week of 7/13

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It’s a good second week of the month for manga, seeing a hefty but not overwhelming amount of stuff coming from Midtown Comics (which still seems to have misplaced June’s Kodansha releases that Diamond and bookstores already have, by the way).

Seven Seas gets to Volume 10 of its bestselling title Dance in the Vampire Bund, one of the few things they have that’s not a Dengeki work. It comes from Media Factory’s Comic Flapper. There’s also the second volume of romantic comedy Toradora!, which *is* from Dengeki Daioh, and features possibly the most popular of the four ‘loli tsunderes’ that all arrived at the same time (for the curious, the other three are Shana, Louise and Nagi).

Viz has its ‘Oh, right, we also put out Shonen Sunday stuff’ second week, and the big news here is the 4th volume in the Cross Game omnibus, which has now reached its halfway point. There’s the 39th volume of Case Closed, which is really quite impressive given how it has to compete with all those Jump titles. The 6th volume of Rin-Ne will no doubt make us all keep hoping that Sakura will actually get mad at something. New volumes of Hyde & Closer and Kurosakuro, both Vol. 5. And for Pokemon fans, two volumes of the new Black and White series, 96 pages each.

Yen Press also rolls out their July releases. The 4-koma series Ichiroh! ends here with Volume 5. Cirque Du Freak is up to Vol. 10 for you Darren Shan fans. High School of the Dead would like to remind you that yes, it is technically a shonen title, at least in Japan. Speaking of genre, what genre to call Kobato, which runs in media magazine Newtype. The fanboy genre? But of course, the big titles for yen are the Square Enix ones from GFantasy. Black Butler and Pandora Hearts, which are both smash hits. And Nabari no Ou, which… isn’t a smash hit. But has ninjas, so should be doing better than it is.

Anything interesting you? Or will you be catching up with the pile that came in this week?

The Josei Alphabet: W

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“W” is for…

Waltz wa Shiori Dress de, written and illustrated by Chiho Saitou, originally serialized in Shogakukan’s Flowers, four volumes: At the turn of the 20th century, a young Japanese woman is fascinated with European clothing and wants to become a designer. Unfortunately, she’s on the fast track towards a career-free life in an arranged marriage. At least she is until she meets a half-English, half-Indian spy at an embassy ball.

Watashi no Atama no Nakano Keshigomu, written and illustrated by Masami Hoshino, originally serialized in Shogakukan’s Petit Comic, one volume: When people use the phrase “This will end in tears,” they could apparently be referring to this adaptation of a popular TV drama about young lovers who enter into a tragic romance.

Watashi no Naka no Kiseki, adapted by JET, based on a novel by Liz Fielding, originally serialized in Ohzora Shuppan’s Harleqin, one volume. A working woman tries to fend off her horrible, misogynist boss by inventing a fake boyfriend. Suing him for discrimination and harassment is apparently out of the question?

Water., written and illustrated by Kiriko Nananan, originally serialized in Shodensha’s Feel Young, one volume: Two yuri-themed stories from the creator of Blue (Fanfare/Ponent Mon).

Wine Glass no Mukou ni, adapted by Junko Sasaki, based on a novel by Rebecca Winters, originally published by Harlequinsha, one volume: A wine buyer lets the romantic beauty of Alsace affect her better judgment and falls into bed with an entirely unsuitable gentleman. I thought that was why people toured vineyards in the first place?

Licensed josei:

  • Walkin’ Butterfly, written and illustrated by Chihiro Tamaki, originally serialized in Kodansha’s Vanilla, four volumes, three of which were published in English by Aurora.
  • Wedding Eve, written and illustrated by Keiko Honda, originally serialized in Ohzora Shuppan’s Roma Roma, one volume, published in English by Central Park Media.
  • Wild Com., written and illustrated by Yumi Tamura, originally serialized in Shogakukan’s Flowers, one volume, published in English by Viz Media.
  • Works, written and illustrated by Eriko Tadeno, one volume, published in English by ALC Publishing.

What starts with “W” in your josei alphabet?

Reader recommendations and reminders:

Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney Volume 1

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By Kenji Kuroda and Kazuo Maekawa, based on the video game by Capcom. Released in Japan by Kodansha, serialized in the magazine Young Magazine. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics.

Back when Kodansha Comics was still Del Rey, they put out two doujinshi anthologies based on the popular video game series, featuring lots of cute stories and bad puns. In Japan, however, there was actually a genuine ongoing manga based off of the series. It ran for five volumes, and also spawned a sequel based off of Phoenix’s rival Miles Edgeworth which ran an additional four. Rather than a gaming magazine, it appeared in one of their titles aimed at young men, the appropriately named Young Magazine.

I’m not normally a gamer, but I make an exception for Phoenix, whose games were so much fun. For those unfamiliar with the premise, Phoenix Wright is a young up and coming defense attorney who usually finds himself dealing with clients who look incredibly guilty but profess their innocence. He and his partner, the perky teenage spirit medium Maya Fey, investigate the crime, stack up clues, and eventually arrive at the trial, where they cross-examine witnesses and try to get the judge to see what really happened.

The manga based off of it is much the same, and even starts the way most games in this series have, with Phoenix called on to defend his hapless childhood friend Larry Butz, who is accused of murder – again. Once this appetizer is finished, we get the main case of the volume, which actually will be spreading out into Volume 2 as well. Phoenix is called to the house of a somewhat jerkass president of an IT company, who suspects he will soon be arrested for murder and wants Phoenix to represent him before that even happens. What follows is a rather claustrophobic tale of a messed-up family, a building that screams ‘deathtrap’, and spiders. A whole mess of spiders.

The manga follows the general theme of the games quite well. We meet a pile of different characters, all of whom seem to be at odds with each other, leaving Phoenix and Maya to try to figure things out. I was also very pleased to see that they kept the basic humor that makes Phoenix Wright so much fun – Phoenix and Maya snark at each other (and other characters) constantly, and there’s no shortage of goofy characters and evidence, especially in the first case. That said, the murders themselves are treated quite seriously. The first case ends on a melancholy note, and the second one gets very intense – folks who don’t like spiders might want to steer clear of this volume.

The localization of the manga reads fine, sounding much like the games. Occasionally they have to cheat, as the manga can show things like Maya’s ramen obsession – so the translation notes say Maya likes burgers AND ramen! Fans of Miles Edgeworth should be warned, however, that he doesn’t appear here beyond Phoenix briefly thinking of him. Winston Payne is the prosecution in Larry’s case, and we have not gotten to the trial for the second one yet. Heck, even Dick Gumshoe doesn’t show up until the end!

Oh, and the Judge asking Phoenix and Maya to keep their lover’s spats outside the court did my little shipping heart good. :)

There’s nothing groundbreaking about this manga. It gives readers exactly what they want – more adventures of Phoenix Wright – and does it in a way that won’t disappoint fans. People who aren’t fans of the game might find its attitude hard to take at first – it’s very glib for a detective series – but for what it is, it works very well.