Features & Reviews

3 Things Thursday: Love in Disguise

October 21, 2010 by MJ 33 Comments

Yesterday, Deb Aoki posted a transcript of a panel from this year’s New York Anime Festival, Gay for You? Yaoi and Yuri Manga for GBLTQ Readers, featuring Erica Friedman (Okazu/ALC Publishing), Leyla Aker (Viz Media), Alex Wooflson (Yaoi911), librarian Scott Robins, and Christopher Butcher (Comics212), moderated by author/super-librarian Robin Brenner. It was the most compelling and informative panel I attended all weekend, and the only negative thing I can say about it was that I wish it had been scheduled for two hours instead of one.

One of the things I found most surprising during the panel, was how willing its panelists were to recommend yaoi and yuri manga to GBLTQ readers here in the west. Though I can’t speak much to the yuri question (not too surprisingly, I guess, since Erica’s recommendations make it pretty clear that most of the best yuri has yet to be translated into English), I’ve been a guilt-ridden BL fan for several years now, enjoying more than a few books within the genre while cringing at its frequent elements of misogyny and a level of fetishization that sometimes even reads as homophobia. But while the panelists made it clear that they wouldn’t recommend every BL series (as Chris Butcher said, “I recommend comics, but i don’t recommend shitty comics.”), it was clear that they felt that representation, even representation without identity, was too important and too rare to scoff at.

At one point in the panel, Robin, who had conducted quite a bit of research for an upcoming publication, said, “One of my favorite responses that I got from the survey was from a young gay man who said he liked reading yaoi because it made him think that one day he’d get a cute boyfriend too.” It’s pretty hard to argue with that.

Panelists also made it clear that cultural differences could not be ignored, that there were reasons behind the way that BL and yuri are presented as they are in Japan, and that we can’t expect those things to change anytime soon. Still, as a reader, I found myself wishing–wishing that the kind of stories I’d like to see might one day come to be. I love romance, don’t get me wrong. I want romance. But my favorite kind of romance is also so much more. I want action, adventure, mystery, fantasy, or even just really good epic soap-opera. Thing is, these kinds of stories already exist, and some of them even appear to be same-sex love stories of one sort or another. They just don’t quite go there, at least not yet.

So finally, I get to my point. :)

For this week’s 3 Things, I’d like to talk about three same-sex love stories I wish would actually go and BE LOVE STORIES.

1. Banana Fish | Akimi Yoshida | Viz Media – Listed just last week as one of my three favorite “classic” shojo series, it’s too late for 1980s manga Banana Fish to become the love story it might have been, but that doesn’t stop me from indulging in the dream. Though the series doesn’t necessarily shy away from discussion of homosexuality, the close, tender relationship between its two male leads remains chaste and ambiguous to the end.

Yoshida attempts to clarify things a bit in her later side-story Garden of Light (“But they did love each other…maybe the way lovers do”) and her Angel Eyes art book is not terribly shy about it either. But what kind of story might she have written if she’d been comfortable enough (or allowed) to turn Banana Fish‘s generous subtext into actual text? I’d have liked to read that story. I’d have liked to read that a lot.

2. Wild Adapter | Kazuya Minekura | Tokyopop – “But wait!” you protest. “Wild Adapter is BL! It’s published in a BL magazine!” Sure, that’s true, I’d respond, and certainly there’s more overt sexuality in WA than in something like Banana Fish, but six volumes in, I still haven’t seen it. I’m not talking about sex, either. I’m talking about any kind of genuine acknowledgement of the apparently romantic relationship between its two leads.

Obviously this series is still running (and there may truths already revealed in the Japanese chapters that haven’t yet made it over), and its presence in a BL magazine does give one hope. But from what we’ve seen in English so far, Wild Adapter is still a love story that refuses to admit it’s a love story.

So bring it on, Minekura. I’m dying to see it.

3. NANA | Ai Yazawa | Viz Media – Now, most of us who love this series have long reconciled with the fact that we’re never going to see its two title characters finally shake off the screwed-up men in their lives and really shack up together (and at this point, frankly, we’re just hoping against hope we’ll see it finished at all). Still, there’s a corner of every NANA fan’s heart that wishes it might be so. Don’t get me wrong–I adore some of those screwed-up men. But Nana/Nana is the ultimate ‘ship that will never be, leaving us to subsist only on a few voiced fantasies and some super-romantic narration.

“The hand that I was holding then… was the only one I wanted to hold… that night… and forever.”

I mean, come on. *Sigh*

So, time to open up the floor! Readers, what are your favorite love stories in disguise? Respond in comments or in your own blog!

BL Bookrack: October Mix

October 20, 2010 by MJ and Michelle Smith 8 Comments

Welcome to the October installment of BL Bookrack, a monthly feature co-written with Soliloquy in Blue‘s Michelle Smith.

First up this month, I take a short look at two one-shots, Baseball Heaven from BLU Manga and Deeply Loving a Maniac from DMP’s 801 Media. Then Michelle provides the real meat of this installment, with a thoughtful look at DMP/Juné’s In the Walnut.

Baseball Heaven | By Ellie Mamahara | Published by BLU | Rated Mature – Tokyo Elephants shortstop Chiaki Ogata is concerned when otherwise friendly rookie pitcher Eiji Uno seems to like everyone but him. It comes as a surprise to Ogata, then, when he discovers that Uno actually believes himself in love with him. Unable to consider getting involved with a much younger teammate, Ogata declares he won’t sleep with Uno until he pitches a perfect game, hoping to delay any need for decision. Can Uno stay interested under these conditions?

Romance manga is a tricky thing. Even the most realistic example of the genre must contain some element of fantasy in order to fulfill the expectations of its readers. On the other hand, the genre also provides an opportunity for complete immersion in a fantasy space for authors who wish to explore their readers’ more unlikely desires. Where writers most often stumble is in achieving believability within the construct of this fantasy, and unfortunately that is exactly the problem with Baseball Heaven.

Though there are plenty of scenarios, even in the workplace, in which an author might reasonably insert middle-school-quality romantic comedy, complete with wacky misunderstandings, wide-eyed confessions, chaste kisses, and blushing embraces, the world of professional baseball is simply not one of them.

Had Mamahara chosen a lighter, more commonplace fictional universe–a restaurant, perhaps, or a supernatural detective agency (for that fantasy touch)–her sweet (if mundane) romance might have gained a little traction. As it is, however, the incongruity of the story’s setting and its characterization is just too great to be satisfying for anyone. Readers looking for fantasy will be distracted by the intrusion of stony-voiced baseball announcers, while those with any knowledge of or interest in baseball will just feel embarrassed and sad.

Could there be a great BL baseball manga out there? I surely hope so. Unfortunately, Baseball Heaven is not it.

-Review by MJ

Deeply Loving a Maniac | By You Higashino | Published by 801 Media | Rated Mature (18+) – Morita is a dedicated otaku, who up until recently had spent all his waking hours buried in magazines filled with drawings of scantily-clad anime girls. This was before he met Sakura, a sexy, gay classmate and his first true love. Though trading in endless 2D girls for one hot 3D boy comes pretty naturally to Morita, he’s worried about what Sakura must think of him as a sex-obsessed otaku with no interests other than him. Can joining the track team make him into a more desirable man?

The answer is, hilariously, “yes,” a sentiment that might be applied to nearly everything in this oddly realistic piece of cracktastic pornography. Though perhaps this is due more to the high school yaoi genre’s predisposition to saccharin romance than it is to You Higashino’s actual skill, there is something incredibly refreshing about a story featuring two high school guys who simply admit to being total horndogs.

Really, though, it’s not just that. While the manga is steeped in explicit sexual fantasy, even from its very first pages, it is, overall, one of the most realistic depictions of actual high school boys I’ve yet to see in this genre. Though they each have their own urgent emotional concerns (Sakura’s worried that Morita’s new athletic-induced hotness will turn him back onto girls, and Morita wonders whether his obsession with a Sakura-like anime figure constitutes “cheating”) they are unable to communicate any of it to each other in a remotely coherent way. Sakura rages, Morita spaces out, and if they’re not really successful at anything but sex, that’s okay, since it’s all they’re really thinking about anyway.

Higashino’s artwork is filled with over-the-top BL imagery that manages to be genuinely sexy even as it pokes fun at the genre’s most ridiculous tropes. Her voice is satirical but never cutting, and she’s careful to skewer her characters (and readers!) with love. And for that we love her right back.

For suprising mix of otaku humor, hot porn, and unexpected realism, check out Deeply Loving a Maniac.

-Review by MJ

In the Walnut, Vols. 1-2 | By Toko Kawai | Published by Juné | Rated YA (16+) – The back cover of In the Walnut‘s second volume describes the series as “light and quirky.” While both are true at times, that makes it sound a lot more frivolous than it really is.

In what is a welcome departure from the typical BL formula, the leads are an established couple: sloppy and enigmatic Hideo Tanizaki, who has inherited a gallery (the titular In the Walnut) from his grandfather, and Sohei Nakai, a cheerful aspiring filmmaker. In the Walnut is known as a gallery that doesn’t ask too many questions, so Tanizaki is constantly fielding requests that seem a bit shady.

In the Walnut reads more like a mystery than a romance, as Tanizaki encounters a new art-related puzzle each chapter and must figure out what’s going on. Coincidence plays a huge factor in these “cases,” like when Tanizaki is asked to restore a battered old painting only to have a customer offer him its twin later the same day, or the way Tanizaki solves the mysteries—in a manner reminiscent of the TV show House—thanks to Nakai saying or doing something that sparks a realization.

While the cases themselves really are not that interesting, the same can’t be said for the characters. Eventually we do go back in time to see how Tanizaki and Nakai met, and while their current-day relationship seems rather casual, the depth of their feelings for one another becomes more clear as the series progresses. I also love that they talk to each other about things other than their relationship—if there were such a thing as a BL Bechdel Test, this would pass! True, Nakai, being the cheerful one who “grew up among goats” in Hokkaido, doesn’t really get fleshed out too much, but Tanizaki is a delightfully complicated character.

In early chapters, Tanizaki does a few things that might be construed as wrong but which have beneficial results for his customers. From this, we conclude that he’s a good man. Nakai reaches the same conclusion, and when he tells Tanizaki so, the latter is surprisingly affected, thinking, “I needed to know that I’m not evil.” But! It turns out things aren’t so cut and dry after all when, in the second volume, Tanizaki sells a painting to a young woman who lacks artistic knowledge for nearly six times its worth and later fails to tell another customer the full story behind what appears to be a cheap souvenir. He does do good, but sometimes his actions are spurred by greed rather than benevolence, which is a dichotomy I find intriguing.

Ultimately, I enjoyed In the Walnut quite a lot and it’ll be a sad wait until the third volume (just released in Japan earlier this month) finally makes its way here. Hopefully then we’ll learn more about Nakai!

-Review by Michelle Smith

Amazon.com Widgets

Review copies provided by the publishers.

Manhwa Monday: News & Reviews

October 18, 2010 by MJ 4 Comments

Welcome to another Manhwa Monday!

Somewhat in the realm of political cartoons, as reported by The Chosun Ilbo, Cho Won-haeng, a professor at Mokwon University in Daejeon, has created a set of caricatures of world leaders as part of next month’s G20 Summit.

The exhibition, organized by the Korea Manhwa Contents Agency with support from the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism, will travel around Seoul before the Summit, and organizers are negotiating to exhibit the drawings at the actual venue, COEX exhibition hall in Samseong-dong.

Check out the Chosun article to see more of the drawings.

Webtoon publisher iSeeToon has offered a sneak peek at their new iOS app, due out shortly. The first of their offerings, Kim Se Rae’s Magician, will feature an English adaptation by editor Daniella Orihuela-Gruber, who also works on various titles for TOKYOPOP. This will be Daniella’s first manhwa.

Speaking of TOKYOPOP, here’s an interesting review of their manhwa, The Tarot Cafe in the tarot section at freepsychicreadings.com.

Also, at Slightly Biased Manga, Connie checks out volume five of Bride of the Water God (Dark Horse). And at Manga Maniac Cafe, Julie takes a look at volume five of 13th Boy (Yen Press).

That’s all for this week!

Is there something I’ve missed? Leave your manhwa-related links in comments!

Quick Takes: All-Shonen Sunday

October 17, 2010 by MJ 13 Comments

Welcome to a far-overdue installment of Quick Takes! This time, we check in on some favorite shonen series from Yen Press and Viz Media.

Pandora Hearts, Vol. 3 | By Jun Mochizuki | Published by Yen Press | Rated: Older Teen

After the last volume’s big revelation about Oz’s former servant, Gilbert, volume three offers up some insight into what happened to Gil over the years Oz lost in the Abyss, including the introduction of Gil’s twisted younger brother, Vincent. First, though, Oz is forced to remember some of the greatest pain in his short life so far when he meets a young boy looking for his father.

This is a fairly dark volume, overall, though very much within the tone set by the series’ first two volumes. Also, it’s quite a feat that Mochizuki has managed to introduce a character creepier than Xerxes Break, especially in a volume where he’s shown luring a young, heartsick Gilbert into his service as a spy. “You don’t need to trust me,” Break says in response to Gil’s reservations. “Just use me. After all, I’m trying to do the same to you.” Still, Vincent Nightray is indeed creepier, setting up Break to be even more (inexplicably) likable than he already was.

This quality–an inexplicably likable creepiness–is what really carries this series, created by a powerful combination of tragically beautiful characters and idiosyncratically beautiful artwork.

Though Mochizuki’s slow revelation of the mysteries of her universe may be painful for some, she’s got me decidedly hooked with her sad, complex characters and their profoundly oversized shirtsleeves. For the sake of these things, I can wait forever. Recommended.

Hikaru no Go, Vol. 21 | By Yumi Hotta & Takeshi Obata | Published by Viz Media | Rated: All Ages

This volume begins with the conclusion to qualifying matches for the Hokuto cup and into preparations for the tournament itself. Meanwhile, Koyo Toya continues to baffle the world of Go by entering a Korean amateur tournament, and Kuwabara prepares to defend his Hon’inbo title against the ambitious Ogata.

Though this manga is nearing its end, volume 21 has the tense, uneasy feel of a middle volume, with all of its characters teetering on the brink as they await the commencement of their battles. To writer Hotta’s credit, the tension feels as fresh as ever, though the pressure of a long series is beginning to show as she’s forced to contrive a misunderstanding between the Japanese and Korean players in order to keep an increasingly mature Hikaru’s temper on edge.

In the midst of pre-war preparations, however, there is a bit of philosophy as well, as Hikaru and Akira stumble upon the real value of their rivalry in a pursuit that would otherwise have little meaning. “It must be lonely to be the God of Go,” Hikaru muses. “You’d have no equal, no rival.”

Despite the series’ length, this volume still offers the same small moments of pathos and insight that have been its hallmark all along–a late-night glimpse of Koyo Toya waiting silently for an opponent who may never appear, Waya’s quiet agony over his own fears and limitations, a glimmer of appreciation from Hikaru for his mother’s earnest support–it is these moments that continue to demonstrate the kind of writing that has made this series special from the start.

21 volumes in, Hikaru no Go remains warm, subtle, and downright elegant. Highly recommended.

Bakuman, Vol. 2 | By Tsugumi Ohba & Takeshi Obata | Published by Viz Media | Rated: Teen

In volume two, Mashiro and Takagi attend their first meeting with a Jump editor who gives them encouragement, if not quite what they were hoping for. Meanwhile, Mashiro’s strange romantic attachment takes an unexpected turn when he and “girlfriend” Azuki are seated next to each other at school.

Though the story’s primary romance remains somewhat baffling, its presence is not quite enough to derail the increasingly compelling nature of the boys’ introduction to the world of professional manga publishing. This storyline is enhanced greatly by the introduction of young editor Hattori and prodigy Eiji Nizuma, which sets up not only a standard Jump rivalry, but also what may be the real rivalry at the heart of this manga, artistic genius vs. calculated ambition.

“There are two types of manga artist who succeed in this world,” Hattori tells the boys at their first meeting. “One is the type of person who draws what they want to draw … they’re the ‘genius’ types. And the other is the type of manga artist like you, Takagi, who creates a hit through calculation.”

This isn’t a new concept by any means, but what makes it so interesting here is the fact that the story’s protagonists represent the “calculated ambition” side of things, which would normally be cast in the role of antagonist, certain to lose to the pure, undisputed superiority of the “true artist.” Where Ohba and Obata intend to take this is anyone’s guess, but there’s no doubt that this cynical outlook suits their style of storytelling. It’s enough to make one wish that this manga was being published outside the purview of powerful Shueisha, who must certainly have a stake in portraying an idealized version of their business. What might these two say if they really had the chance?

Though the series’ portrayal of its female characters is still sketchy at best, new girlfriend Miyoshi’s violent tendencies make her a surprisingly good foil for arrogant Takagi, whose cocky intellect is no match for a swift kick to the head.

Ultimately, neither sexism nor Big Brother is able to dampen the interest to be found here for manga fans outside Japan, so far removed from the world at the source of our obsession. Whether as a sly stab at the manga industry or a tightly-controlled commercial for it, Bakuman is fascinating, plain and simple.

To read previous reviews and discussion of these series, check out the tags, pandora hearts, hikaru no go, and bakuman or browse our Index of Reviews.

Follow Friday: The Aggregators

October 15, 2010 by MJ 3 Comments

There are a lot of great manga bloggers and critics to follow in the manga blogosphere, but one particular type of blogging that helps to fill the empty hours comes from the aggregators, the linkbloggers, the brave souls who read everything on the internet so we don’t have to. Most manga bloggers dabble in aggregation from time to time (me included), but there are a few regular stops you can always count on to give you what you need.

We begin at MangaBlog, of course, the mother of all manga linkblogs. Though writer Brigid Alverson also brings us occasional (always insightful) commentary and reviews, the staple of her blog is the daily link roundup, making this the first stop for nearly every manga fan I know. To keep up on the latest posts (and great conversation as well) you can also follow Brigid on Twitter @BrigidAlverson.

For daily comics news (not just manga), check out Dirk Deppey’s Journalista over at The Comics Journal. You can follow Dirk on Twitter @deppey.

One of my favorite weekly features online has become Kate Dacey’s Friday Procrastination Aids at her blog, The Manga Critic. Filled with thoughtful picks from around the blogsophere, you can count on Kate’s good taste to get you through the day! Find Kate on Twitter also as @manga_critic.

Lastly, for a condensed look at the previous week’s happenings in the manga blogosphere, rely on Lori Henderson’s This Week in Manga at her blog, Manga Xanadu. Lori provides quite a bit of commentary along with her weekly links, which makes it a pretty meaty feature for your Saturday afternoon reading. Follow Lori’s Twitter feed @MangaXanadu.

Now, go forth and read!

Many thanks to Kuriousity‘s Lissa Pattillo for the idea for this feature. You should follow her too! Look for Follow Friday here on the second Friday of each month.

Summer, Fireworks, and My Corpse

October 14, 2010 by Katherine Dacey

At some point in your travels through high school English, a teacher probably made you read Shirley Jackson’s “The Lottery,” a short story about a rural community that routinely sacrifices one its members to ensure a good harvest. I remember writing a paper about “The Lottery” my freshman year. Like many of my classmates, I critiqued the story’s dramatic aspects — the shocking twist, the ethics of the townspeople’s ritual — and neglected to say much about Jackson’s prose. Re-reading “The Lottery” as an adult, it’s obvious what I missed the first time around: Jackson’s singular ability to make the banal sinister through the selective presentation and repetition of seemingly inconsequential details.

Consider “The Summer People,” a short story from 1950. Jackson lavishes considerable attention on the title characters’ day-to-day activities such as buying groceries in town; one might reasonably infer it was a slice-of-life story about New Yorkers experiencing mild culture shock in backwoods New England. By the story’s end, however, it becomes clear why Jackson documented the Allisons’ routine in such detail; the townspeople have been observing the Allisons, viewing every gesture or action as a further violation of the unspoken agreement between residents and summer people that the out-of-towners go home by Labor Day. We don’t know what, exactly, happens to the Allisons for breaking the contract — Jackson leaves that to the readers’ imagination — but we’re left feeling deceived and unsettled, as if we ourselves had been the target of the year-rounders’ wrath.

It seems fitting, then, that Japanese horror novelist Otsu-ichi was nominated for the 2009 Shirley Jackson Award, as he has a similar flair for transforming ordinary situations into extraordinary ones. In “Yuko,” the second entry in Summer, Fireworks, and My Corpse, for example, a young woman takes a job working for a childless couple, one of whom is bedridden. A small but noticeable change in their nightly dinner routine arouses her suspicion that something is amiss between her employers, setting in motion a chain of events that culminate in a scene of comic horror.

The title story, too, pivots on a few carefully chosen details, as two children conspire to hide the corpse of a playmate who fell to her death. Throughout the story, Otsu-ichi describes the children eating ice cream, a simple motif that seems, at first, to be offered as evidence of the children’s struggle to conceal their guilt by engaging in normal activities. In the final pages of the story, however, that seemingly benign habit is cast in an entirely different light, forcing us to reconsider everything we’d believed about one of the story’s secondary characters.

Only the third and final story of the collection, “Black Fairy Tale,” deviates from this pattern, instead offering a mixture of urban legend and B-movie horror in book form. It’s an ambitious story, with several interlaced threads, including a dark fable about a crow who befriends a blind girl, and a teenager who loses her eye and her memory in an accident, only to have them replaced with a murder victim’s. There’s also a subplot involving a serial killer who carries out ghastly experiments on people, transforming them into monsters and holding them captive in his basement. Though Otsu-ichi skillfully maneuvers among the various storylines, maintaining sufficient suspense throughout the story, “Black Fairy Tale” is a less rewarding read than “Summer, Fireworks, and My Corpse” or “Yuko,” both of which rely more on psychological manipulation than cheap shock tactics to scare the reader; Otsu-ichi’s descriptions of the killer’s surgeries elicit a visceral, immediate response, to be sure, but prove less unsettling or memorable than the behavior of “Summer”‘s true villain.

Good horror operates on a deeper level as well, showing us how greed, hypocrisy, and conformity tear at the very fabric of society. I think that’s one of the reasons we continue to read Jackson’s work; stories like “The Lottery” and “The Summer People” offer a window into the conservative, conformist culture of the 1950s, that brief moment before the Civil Rights Movement, feminism, the Pill, and the Vietnam War radically altered the American landscape. Jackson’s characters live in terror of upsetting the status quo; their greatest fear is to be exposed as an outsider or an outlier of any kind.

The pressure to conform to parental and peer expectations — a frequent motif in contemporary Japanese comics, cinema, and literature — plays a similar role in Otsu-ichi’s “Black Fairy Tale.” Nami, its amnesiac heroine, is an obvious example. Before her accident, she was a model student, musician, and daughter, basking in others’ approbation; when a head injury robs her of the the ability to do well in school or play a Chopin ballad, her peers and parents begin to ostracize her, writing her off as a shy, inept loser. Throughout the story, she wrestles with her desire to reconcile her new and old personalities; only by embracing and acting on the memories left behind by her left eye’s previous owner — a loner and a college dropout — does she begin to appreciate the possibility of living the life she chooses, rather than the one her parents had planned for her.

Would Jackson have recognized the parallels between her work and Otsu-ichi’s? Aside from Otsu-ichi’s occasional detour into Clive Barker-esque excess, I’d say yes; Summer, Fireworks, and My Corpse is a solidly crafted collection of psychological horror stories, the best of which prove as spooky and thought-provoking as “The Lottery” and “The Summer People,” not least for the way in which Otsu-ichi finds the uncanny in the everyday.

Review copy provided by VIZ Media, LLC.

SUMMER, FIREWORKS, AND MY CORPSE • BY OTSU-ICHI, TRANSLATED BY NATHAN COLLINS • VIZ (HAIKASORU) • 300 pp.

3 Things Thursday: Shojo Manga

October 14, 2010 by MJ 59 Comments

Welcome to a brand new weekly blog feature at Manga Bookshelf, 3 Things Thursday! For the inaugural edition, I’m going to begin by breaking the rules straight off.

In a recent Manga Out Loud podcast, one of my favorite manga critics, Ed Sizemore, mentioned casually that he hadn’t read much good shojo. While the definition of “good” is likely to vary greatly from critic-to-critic on a topic so subjective, I figured I’d start my 3 Things off by listing three currently running shojo manga I think are especially worthwhile. And since so many of my favorites are older manga, I’ll cheat a bit by also listing three “classic” manga I recommend as well. These are not to be taken as my “TOP ThrEE FAVORITES OF ALL TIME” by any means, but rather three of each that simply spring to mind. I do think it’s interesting to note that every single one of them is/was published by Viz Media. So here goes!

3 favorite current shojo series:

We Were There | Yuki Obata | Viz Media – Few manga out there have affected me on a personal level as deeply as this one has. From my review of volume one:

“What’s nice about this manga is its simplicity and quiet honesty … The characters’ greatest obstacles are themselves, just like in real life … To achieve this, We Were There takes popular manga stereotypes and turns them into real people. In place of the clumsy, helpless shojo heroine, we have Nana, who is exactly as awkward as any average girl entering a new school, no more, no less … In place of the brooding, dangerous love interest (or its inverse–the shining, popular prince), we have Yano, who is often thoughtless, occasionally kind, and though he is definitely hiding some real pain behind his carefree image, is mostly just confused about his feelings, much like most teenaged boys.”

More reviews here.

Crown of Love | Yun Kouga | Viz Media – This dark, complicated tale of ambition and obsession will be complete in four volumes as of November 2nd. From my review of volume one:

“Crown of Love is the retelling of an older series by mangaka Yun Kouga, originally serialized in 1988. That series was only two volumes long, with an ending described by the artist as “abrupt.” … where Kouga succeeds, and stunningly so, is in her characterization. There are no shojo stereotypes here, despite appearances … The fact that the characters seem to know just how screwed up they are is what rescues them from being too disturbing to bear … As always, Kouga’s art is a highlight of her work. There’s something essentially cheerful and straightforward about her layout and designs that gives a story like this an even darker tone than it might have with a more overtly sinister look. Also, though the story is far from light-hearted, there is a clarity to Kouga’s visual storytelling that keeps it from becoming mired in its own weight.”

More reviews here.

The Story of Saiunkoku | Sai Yukino, Kairi Yura | Viz Media – A brand new favorite, this series got my attention immediately with its complicated characterization and strong female lead. From my discussion of volume one:

“Despite the fact that I’d heard positive buzz about this series … I admit I was more than skeptical. The manga’s opening chapter didn’t do much to sway me, either, with its gag sensibility and creepy romantic overtones … Fortunately, it quickly became clear that my first impressions were just wrong … though the story first seems to be crafted out of the same, tired tropes … each of these standard elements–the happy-go-lucky heroine, the over-the-top humor, the contrived matchmaking–becomes fresh and even insightful in Sai Yukino’s hands … Like all of us, the roles they each play with each other are the result of everything they’ve had to do to survive their lives so far. Nobody is perfect (or even perfectly evil, at least from what we’ve seen), and since flawed characters are generally the most compelling in any story, this makes for a very rich experience overall.”

Full discussion here.

3 favorite “classic” shojo series:

Basara | Yumi Tamura | Viz Media – This multi-volume epic is a must-read for any fantasy/adventure fan. It also features a fantastic female lead who manages to be both vulnerable and kick-ass throughout. From Michelle Smith’s review of volume 25:

“I admit it: I cried. At things happy, sad, and both at once. I’ve invested three years in this series and can happily say that it was worth it. I’m not going to give any details on how things go down, so suffice it to say that the ending is very satisfying. I must’ve reread the last few pages three times to savor all that Sarasa had accomplished … Basara is probably the best manga I have ever read. Thanks, Viz, for taking a chance on it.”

Does any more need to be said?

Expect a full-out ode to this series here sometime in the near future.

Banana Fish | Akimi Yoshida | Viz Media – I probably have written more about Banana Fish than anyone ever should, but this story of gang wars, organized crime, drug trafficking, and government intrigue actually is one of my favorite series of all time. From Making the case for Banana Fish:

“Sure, this story is about street gangs, organized crime, blah blah blah, but what it is really about is this relationship between Ash and Eiji, and how it changes them both throughout the course of the series … I finished volume 19 (and the post-series one-shot, Garden of Light) months ago, and it still sticks with me, the story of these two, haunting the back of my mind in some way all the time … My husband once asked me, “Is Banana Fish yaoi?” and my immediate response was, “I wish”. . . What I meant was that I wish I’d ever read a boys’ love manga as interesting and well-plotted as Banana Fish. I’ll take that a step further. I wish I’d read more manga in general as interesting and well-plotted as Banana Fish, and I read a lot of manga.”

Off the Shelf: All About the Hair

October 13, 2010 by MJ and Michelle Smith 13 Comments

Welcome to another edition of Off the Shelf with MJ & Michelle! I’m joined, once again, by Soliloquy in Blue‘s Michelle Smith.

Back from our pre-NYCC break, Michelle and I take some time to discuss recent releases from Viz Media, and Vertical, Inc, and Digital Manga Publishing.

MJ: So, after a weekend at New York Comic Con, where I enjoyed the opportunity to discuss manga with a bunch of smart fans and critics, I have returned home to this column… where I enjoy the opportunity to discuss manga with a smart fan and critic.

I spend money on cons why?

MICHELLE: Actually, I’m kind of relieved I didn’t spend a bunch of money to go, given the paucity of new manga licenses, although I admit not getting to meet people as a result is a serious drawback.

MJ: Well, I think the company right here is pretty good. Though, as I gaze at my dinner of frozen pizza, I’ll admit that the food in New York was better.

In any case, with or without new manga licenses, we have plenty of current titles to discuss right here. Why don’t you start us off?

MICHELLE: Alrighty.

This week I got caught up with Rumiko Takahashi’s latest series, RIN-NE. I used to read each new chapter of this series online, but fell out of the habit, and had volumes three and four here demanding my attention. RIN-NE is an episodic supernatural comedy from the pages of Shonen Sunday and features Rinne Rokudo, a “sort of” shinigami whose chief character trait appears to be stinginess, and Sakura Mamiya, a human girl who can see spirits and who helps Rinne bring closure to those hanging around their school and send them off to the wheel of reincarnation.

Volume three introduces a new character, Tsubasa Jumonji. He’s an exorcist, though he seems to think all ghosts are evil, and immediately asks Sakura to go out with him. She’s not enthusiastic but doesn’t exactly reject him, either, which troubles Rinne. Even though he tells Sakura he has no interest in going out with anyone, he’s beginning to ponder what she means to him. For her part, Sakura is incredibly level-headed and calm, to the point where neither boy has any inkling what’s really going on in her head.

Still, Tsubasa becomes a part of the gang and the trio contends with the ghost of a boy who would like one fun date with the girl he liked before passing on, a toilet-haunting spirit, evil mechanical pencils, and Rinne’s mooching dad, who is the president of a damashigami (a corrupt shinigami who harvests the souls of those not yet destined to die) company and intends for Rinne to inherit. An incredibly over-the-top fight ensues, which I can’t fully describe except to say that it features a giant slab of wagyu beef and a mysterious stranger in a seal costume.

To look at RIN-NE objectively, I admit that this is quite a lot of wacky hijinks with very little payoff in terms of plot or character relationships. Still, it’s kind of… homey and pleasant, which is just what one needs sometimes. Plus, the tiny dribbles of romantic angst ensure that I’ll be coming back for more….

Manhwa Monday: Post-Con Blues

October 11, 2010 by MJ 7 Comments

Welcome to another Manhwa Monday!

The past week was all about New York Comic Con for us here at Manhwa Bookshelf, and manhwa certainly made itself known at this year’s con.

Booth 2265 was the place to be for manhwa fans, where the Korea Creative Content Agency (KOCCA) set up shop, promoting manhwa in big, blue letters and offering up comics in both Korean and English for sale at 4-for-3 prices.

As I predicted last week, KOCCA’s English-translated manhwa was provided via NETCOMICS, whose Vice President, Soyoung Jung, was onsite throughout the con. Though I was only able to chat with her briefly, the state of the booth’s inventory by Sunday afternoon spoke for itself, indicating that first volumes (at least) of most series were snatched up early on.

My personal manhwa score included a few middle volumes of BL favorite Totally Captivated to round out my collection, and volume two of historical fantasy Kingdom of the Winds.

KOCCA’s booth was both recognizable and easily visible at a distance, making it one of the most effective of its kind at the con.

Though none of the convention’s attending publishers had new manhwa licenses to announce, the most promising news came from Yen Press, whose newly announced iPad app (launching at the end of this month) will include some of its Korean titles to be downloaded as complete volumes for roughly $8.99 apiece.

In other news, allkipop.com releases photos of actress Moon Geun Young’s transformation into her character, Wi Mae Ri, for the upcoming mini-series Mary Skipped the Curfew, based on a Korean webtoon. Based on what I’ve seen so far, this can be added to my list of “manhwa I wish were available in English.”

And in the manhwa blogosphere, Lori Henderson updates her list of Halloween manga to include two recent manhwa series, girls’ horror manhwa Reading Club from Udon Enterainment and ghost-story manhwa Time and Again from Yen Press.

That’s all for this week!

Is there something I’ve missed? Leave your manhwa-related links in comments!

Bakuman。 2 by Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata: B+

October 11, 2010 by Michelle Smith

From the back cover:
Average student Moritaka Mashiro enjoys drawing for fun. When his classmate and aspiring writer Akito Takagi discovers his talent, he begs Moritaka to team up with him as a manga-creating duo. But what exactly does it take to make it in the manga-publishing world?

After Moritaka and Akito collaborate on a manga together, they venture to publishing house Shueisha in hopes of capturing an editor’s interest. As much potential as these two rookies have, will their story impress the pros and actually get printed?

Review:
The second volume of Bakuman。 picks up where the first left off, with artist Moritaka Mashiro and writer Akito Takagi taking the final draft of their one-shot manga to Jump headquarters for consideration. This kicks off a series of fascinating meetings (spanning from summer vacation to the start of the next school year the following spring) in which the boys receive feedback from their editor, Hattori, and try to create a story that will be popular enough to merit serialization.

I loved all the meetings with Hattori, especially how specific he was about story and art requirements for Jump and how, as the boys improved, he went over their storyboards panel-by-panel with useful suggestions. As befits shounen protagonists, Mashiro and Akito are both very talented, but they’re not instantly the best around and go through many ideas and an immense amount of work before they’re able to craft something that is worth publishing.

When they finally do manage to get a story published, it takes third place in the popularity poll for that issue. The winner is Eiji Nizuma, a fifteen-year-old mangaphile who has been drawing since the age of six and practically does nothing else. He’s an exceedingly weird kid, but he fulfills the Akira Toya role here of “genius rival of comparable age.” He’s the first obstacle our leads will have to overcome, and I think it’s pretty fun how this is shaping up to be a sort of tournament manga.

Unfortunately, I’m still bored and fairly annoyed by Mashiro’s relationship with classmate Miho Azuki. They’ve pledged to marry once their dreams come true, but in the meantime aren’t even going to date. To some extent I understand—it’s suggested that Miho’s in favor of this because she wants to be able to focus on her dream without being distracted by Mashiro—but they still hardly know each other. Thankfully, Miho’s friend, Miyoshi, finds this just as bizarre. Also, while the overt, spoken sexism is absent from this volume it’s not exactly absent from the characters’ behavior. At one point Mashiro informs Miho that they’re going to be together when he becomes a manga artist, whether she’s realized her dream (to be a voice actress) or not. Nice, kid.

Though Bakuman。 has some flaws, it’s still an utterly captivating look at the manga-creating experience. I can overlook a banal relationship plotline if it means getting a glimpse inside the editorial process at Jump!

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Wait for What Will Come by Barbara Michaels: B-

October 7, 2010 by Michelle Smith

Book description:
The last of an ancient Cornish clan, Carla Tregellas has inherited her historic ancestral home: a massive mansion looming high up on the jagged cliffs of Cornwall. From the moment Carla takes possession of the grand manor she feels right at home, warmly welcomed by everyone—except the strange and secretive housekeeper, Mrs. Pendennis, who warns the new owner of the tragic, inevitable fate that will surely befall her if she does not depart at once. But Carla cannot leave, for the unseen bonds of a dark family curse are beginning to tighten… and a demon lover waits.

Review:
I’m not sure what it is, but sometimes I just crave something by Barbara Michaels.

Like most of the books by Michaels that I have read, Wait for What Will Come features a plucky heroine and an old house. Carla Tregellas, a math teacher from Boston, is surprised to inherit a somewhat decrepit mansion from a distant relation in Cornwall. Her initial impulse is to sell the place, but once she sees a photo, she’s smitten and decides to at least pay a visit before putting it up on the market.

Upon practically the moment of her arrival, Carla is acquainted with the family legend, which says that every 200 years a young woman of the family is claimed by some sort of sea demon. The last occurrence was exactly 200 years ago and, wouldn’t you know it, Carla looks a great deal like her ancestor who went missing at that time. Carla’s an unimaginative and practical sort and discounts the myth, but strange things start happening—seaweed in her room, a distorted portrait—that soon have her on edge.

A bevy of attractive men happens to be handy, and most of them have the hots for Carla (the exception being the vicar, who probably has the vicarly equivalent). The fellows help her look into the origins of the legend and execute timely rescues, but most seem to want to get her out of town in a hurry. After the characters spend most of the book sightseeing, socializing, and/or engaging in lackadaisical research, all of a sudden they’re confessing to dastardly deeds and revealing unconvincing romantic inclinations, and it all seems to come out of nowhere.

In retrospect, the plot’s pretty thin, but I liked the setting and the characters enough that I enjoyed their interactions, until Michaels realized she’d better wrap things up and everything went a little crazy. Still, the final resolution is satisfying enough and I’m happy that a cat got to be a hero, in its way. This isn’t the best by Michaels that I’ve read, but it was sufficiently diverting.

The 14th Dalai Lama: A Manga Biography

October 7, 2010 by Katherine Dacey

Reading The 14th Dalai Lama: A Manga Biography, I was irresistibly reminded of a quip attributed to Thomas Carlyle: “A well-written life is almost as rare as a well-spent one.” Though the Dalai Lama has lead one of the most exemplary lives in recent memory, demonstrating uncommon wisdom, patience, and pragmatism in his efforts to publicize Tibet’s plight, Tetsu Saiwai’s paint-by-numbers biography reduces the Dalai Lama from a worldly religious leader to a saintly cipher.

Saiwai’s work takes its inspiration from Freedom in Exile, the Dalai Lama’s 1991 autobiography, and Kundun, its subsequent adaptation by Martin Scorsese. Like Kundun, The 14th Dalai Lama focuses on the first twenty-odd years of Tenzin Gyatso’s life, from 1937, when he was pronounced the reincarnation of the previous Dalai Lama, to 1959, when he fled to Dharamsala, India, to escape escalating violence between Tibetan nationals and Chinese military forces. Many of the scenes in Saiwai’s book have analogues in Scorsese’s film: we see Tenzin Gyatso correctly identify objects that belonged to his predecessor, thus revealing himself to be the next Dalai Lama; we watch him spend time with Austrian mountaineer (and former SS officer) Heinrich Harrer, a relationship explored in the film Seven Years in Tibet; and we follow him to Beijing, where Chairman Mao exploits the Tibetan leader’s sincerity and youthful naivete for propaganda. Saiwai also offers numerous — if brief — scenes dramatizing the Chinese invasion of Tibet in 1950, showing us both the internal disagreement within the Dalai Lama’s advisory circle and the growing unrest in the streets of Lhasa.

Readers familiar with Scorsese’s film will experience deja vu reading Saiwai’s work, as the manga feels like a shot-by-shot remake. It isn’t, of course, but it’s hard to escape the feeling that Saiwai relied too heavily on Scorsese’s movie for guidance on what events to include in the narrative.

The comparison between the film and the manga reveals another drawback to The 14th Dalai Lama: it lacks the visual drama of Kundun. One of the movie’s most arresting aspects was its cinematography; though Scorsese’s crew wasn’t allowed to film in Tibet (most of the movie was shot in Morocco), the art director collaborated with Tibetan cast members to meticulously recreate the costumes, religious ceremonies, and interiors of the Potala Palace. Almost every frame of the movie was saturated in rich color — azure skies, crimson robes, golden objects — an almost painterly affectation that suggested the radiance of a Titian canvas. Saiwai’s unadorned, grayscale artwork, by contrast, seems impoverished; there’s very little detail, even in his depictions of religious rituals, and his efforts to represent Tibet’s rugged terrain barely suggest how dry and unforgiving the landscape can be.

What Kundun and The 14th Dalai Lama share, however, is an uncritical, even devotional, attitude to their subject. In his 1997 review of the film, Roger Ebert contrasted Scorsese’s saintly portrayal of the Dalai Lama in Kundun with his all-too-human depiction of Jesus in The Last Temptation of Christ:

Kundun is like one of the popularized lives of the saints that Scorsese must have studied as a boy in Catholic grade school. I studied the same lives, which reduced the saints to a series of anecdotes. At the end of a typical episode, the saint says something wise, pointing out the lesson, and his listeners fall back in amazement and gratitude. The saint seems to stand above time, already knowing the answers and the outcome, consciously shaping his life as a series of parables.

In Kundun, there is rarely the sense that a living, breathing and (dare I say?) fallible human inhabits the body of the Dalai Lama. Unlike Scorsese’s portrait of Jesus in The Last Temptation of Christ, this is not a man striving for perfection, but perfection in the shape of a man.

The same could be said for Saiwai’s work: in almost every scene, the Dalai Lama displays preternatural wisdom, sagely counseling those around him. We never see the Dalai Lama in exile, when he faced new challenges to his regime’s authority — moments that might reveal him to be a more human, more canny individual than is suggested by the carefully selected episodes from his early life. I say this not to criticize the Dalai Lama, but to recognize him as a spiritual leader with uncommon insight into the modern condition, as someone who regularly engages members of the scientific community, who intelligently uses mass media to disseminate Buddhist teaching, and who views his faith not as a set of practices to be unquestionably preserved and transmitted to future generations, but as a religion capable of evolving; can you imagine the Pope speculating that his successor might be a woman?

Like his portrayal of the Dalai Lama, Saiwai’s characterization of Chinese-Tibetan relations is devoid of nuance. Saiwai characters’ explain in simple, stark terms what Chinese “modernization” efforts meant for Tibet: devastation of natural resources, and systematic efforts to erradicate the indigenous language, agricultural practices, and religion. (In the introduction to Essential Tibetan Buddhism, Robert Thurman notes that fewer than twenty of the country’s 6,267 monasteries remain open.) Yet nowhere does Saiwai address the long and fraught relationship between China and Tibet — a serious omission, as this history helps explain why China viewed Tibet as part of its territory, and why other nations were reluctant to acknowledge Tibetan sovereignty. These historical facts in no way justify Chinese occupation of Tibet, or diminish the horror of what the Tibetan people have endured; as Thurman observes, nearly 1.3 million have perished under Chinese rule, some while performing hard labor, others for opposing the regime. A story as sad and complex as Tibet’s, however, deserves a more thoughtful treatment than it’s given in Saiwai’s book.

Given the limitations of the text, the best audience for The 14th Dalai Lama are young readers. The book’s directness and sincerity make it an engaging read, while its note of moral outrage over Chinese atrocities may prompt teens to learn more about the 1950 invasion. Readers already familiar with the conflict won’t find much here to enrich their understanding of the man or the region, though they may come away from the manga with a renewed sense of the Dalai Lama’s resilience and courage.

Review copy provided by Penguin Books.

THE 14TH DALAI LAMA: A MANGA BIOGRAPHY • BY TETSU SAIWAI • PENGUIN BOOKS • 208 pp.

Manhwa Monday: NYCC Edition

October 4, 2010 by MJ 2 Comments

Welcome to another Manhwa Monday!

With the new, joint New York Comic Con/New York Anime Festival swiftly approaching, let’s take a look at this year’s most promising manhwa destinations at the con(s).

First, to the exhibit hall! Manhwa publisher NETCOMICS has implied via Twitter that they will have a presence at the show. Though they have no booth listed with the con (and a request for details has remained unanswered as of this posting), my guess is that we’ll find them in the vicinity of KOCCA, the Korea Creative Content Agency, at booth number 2265 (ETA: this is confirmed!). Similarly, manhwa-friendly Yen Press should be represented at the booth of parent company Hachette Book Group, booth 2315.

Other manhwa publishers in attendance include Dark Horse Comics (booth 2023), NBM (booth 2304), First Second (booth 2314), and Fanfare/Ponent Mon (booth 2426).

Moving on to events, get all the news from Yen Press at their panel on Saturday from 3:45-4:45 in the afternoon, and check in with Dark Horse on Friday evening from 5:45-6:45. Also of interest to manhwa fans, K-drama website DramaFever is hosting a panel on “Asian Entertainment Trends in American Pop Culture” on Friday evening from 8:30-9:30, moderated by DramaFever’s David Hou and featuring such panelists as San Francisco Chronicle columnist Jeff Yang and Dramabeans.com writers Javabeans and GirlFriday. Check out the full list of panelists at DramaFever.com.

I’ll be at the cons all weekend, so please look for me and be sure to say hello!

This week in reviews, Charles Montgomery at 10 Magazine takes a look at three titles, Forest of Gray City (Yen Press), Manhwa 100 (KOCCA), and Let Dai (NETCOMICS). In the latest Off the Shelf column at Manga Bookshelf I talk about an upcoming volume of 13th Boy (Yen Press). Connie checks out the second volume of Laon (Yen Press) at Slightly Biased Manga. And at Manga Xanadu, Lori Henderson reviews volumes 1-3 of Pig Bride (Yen Press).

That’s all for this week!

Is there something I’ve missed? Leave your manhwa-related links in comments!

Cat-Eyed Boy, Vols. 1-2

October 3, 2010 by Katherine Dacey

Kazuo Umezu’s writing defies easy categorization. His horror stories unfold in an almost haphazard fashion, seldom offering Western readers the kind of inevitable showdown between supernatural menace and righteous avenger that’s de rigeur in grindhouse flicks. In a less charitable mood, I might suggest that Umezu was simply making it up as he went along, adding whatever Grand Guignol flourishes tickled his fancy; in a more critically responsible frame of mind, I’d argue that Umezu uses non-sequitors, heightened realism, and Freudian imagery to create a hallucinatory atmosphere that thumbs its nose at logic or teleology.

In the afterword to Cat-Eyed Boy, artist Mizuho Hiroyama offers a more geneorus assessment of Umezu’s approach to storytelling:

But just what is this unforgettable bizarreness that lies at the core of Umezu’s world? Is it a child’s nightmare? I think that this probably the best way to describe it. It’s simply fear. The escalating fear and imagination of a child who is unable to fall asleep in a pitch-dark room late at night, thinking about the worst-case scenarios and wondering, “What would I do if this happened?”

I think Hiroyama is on to something here: as anyone who’s read The Drifting Classroom knows, that entire series reads like a child’s nightmare, filled with terrifying monsters, barren wastelands, and irresponsible, ineffectual adults whose inability to save the day forces the stranded students to rely on themselves.

These same motifs recur throughout Umezu’s oeuvre. The eleven stories that comprise Cat-Eyed Boy, for example, are chock-full of demons — some grotesque, some comic — vengeful spirits, dead parents, and spiteful adults. Cat-Eyed Boy, a child-like creature who’s half-human, half-demon, finds himself relegated to the margins of both worlds, making him especially vulnerable to predation, in spite of his obvious strength and cunning. Like Sho and his Drifting Classroom peers, Cat-Eyed Boy must frequently outsmart unscrupulous adults (and a few monsters) to save his own skin.

Cat-Eyed Boy’s role varies from story to story: in some, he’s an active participant, a trickster figure who cajoles or deceives, while in others, he’s an observer. The strongest entry of the collection, “The Tsunami Summoners,” is, not coincidentally, the one in which Umezu portrays his odd little hero as a truly grotesque figure, one whose liminal status arouses genuine pity in readers. On one level, “Summoners” is an origin story, explaining where Cat-Eyed Boy came from, how he was exiled from the demon world, and why humans greet him with such suspicion, despite his frequent efforts to intervene on their behalf. On another, it’s a superb example of Umezu-style comeuppance theater, as a small coastal village is punished not only for mistreating one of their own members but for ignoring an ancient warning about a sea-borne menace. Everything about the story works beautifully: the crack pacing, the unforeseen plot twists, and the genuine pathos of Cat-Eyed Boy’s situation as he tries to protect the same villagers who tormented his sole human friend. The summoners are a particularly effective menace, as their initial appearance is relatively benign – they look like brain-shaped rocks, perfect for building walls and houses – allowing them to insinuate themselves into every aspect of the villagers’ lives before anyone is aware of the danger they pose.

Other standouts include “The One-Legged Monster of Ondai,” a cautionary tale about the evils of lepidoptery; “The Thousand-Handed Demon,” a blood bath in which a evil spirit possesses a statue of the Buddhist deity Kwannon; and “The Stairs,” a story about a boy so eager to be see his late mother that he ignores all warnings about the perils of crossing between the lands of the living and the dead.

Several stories were simply too long or scattershot to leave much of an impression. The chief offender is “The Band of One Hundred Monsters,” a rambling tale in which a group of hideously deformed humans aspire to become demons. I thought it was going to be an extended riff on the creative process, as the story initially focuses on the interaction between the “monsters” and a manga-ka known for his bizarre horror tales. Instead, Umezu quickly dispatches the manga-ka and steers the narrative in a wholly unanticipated direction, with the Band of One Hundred murdering pretty yet soulless people. That narrative u-turn does little to bind the two halves of the story together, nor does it take the story in a particularly interesting direction; the notion that beauty is only skin-deep has been explored in countless horror stories to better effect, as Umezu’s earlier work “The Mirror” attests.

Viz presents Cat-Eyed Boy in two generously sized volumes, totaling almost 1,000 pages of story. Both are beautifully packaged, with French flaps, creamy paper stock, and color pages. I particularly liked the endpapers, which catalog the various demons found in both volumes. And what a rogue’s gallery it is — these monsters are considerably more grotesque than anything Umezu conjured for earlier series, sporting myriad eyes, warty skin, tentacles, and grossly misshapen bodies. Most of the stories aren’t terribly spooky or shocking by contemporary standards, but the sheer oddness of the character designs will get under your skin like images from a particularly vivid nightmare.

This is a revised version of a review that appeared at PopCultureShock on August 12, 2008.

CAT-EYED BOY, VOLS. 1 – 2 • BY KAZUO UMEZU • VIZ • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+)

Off the Shelf: Now With Reduced Woe!

September 29, 2010 by MJ and Michelle Smith 13 Comments

Welcome to another edition of Off the Shelf with MJ & Michelle! I’m joined, once again, by Soliloquy in Blue‘s Michelle Smith.

This week, we take a look at some recent volumes from Yen Press, Tokyopop, Viz Media, and Vertical, Inc.

MICHELLE: Wednesday’s child may be full of woe, but somehow I doubt the same can be said about what we’ve been reading this week. At least not my picks. How about you, MJ?

MJ: You’re absolutely right! I caught up with a couple of universes I’m particularly fond of this week. Shall I just jump right in?

MICHELLE: Jump away; the water’s lovely.

MJ: *Sploosh* Okay! Well, having complained just this week about the shortage of new manhwa licenses, I figured it was only fair of me to give some attention to one of my favorite currently-running series, SangEun Lee’s 13th Boy from Yen Press. This is a series that hooked me early on with its quirky mix of romantic comedy and supernatural oddities (TALKING CACTUS). Though it was a bit all over the place in its first volume, it found its feet pretty quickly and now, five volumes in, it feels wonderfully sure and comfortable in its strangeness.

This is a pretty eventful volume, filled with some serious revelations for several of its main characters, particularly heroine Hee-So and her friend/sort-of-rival, Sae-Bom. What really makes the romantic aspect of this series work is Hee-So’s unyielding personality. Anytime the series seems in danger of becoming sentimental or melodramatic, she brings it right back to earth like a giant bulldozer, ripping everything apart with a moment of brash honesty or blatant self-involvement. She’s a character who manages to be totally obnoxious and still incredibly likable. How can you dislike anyone who is so open and honest about her own worst thoughts and so transparent in her painful attempts at guile? Hee-So is like a cup of tepid water in the ceaseless desert of teen romance comics– flawed, but extremely welcome.

Also, a stuffed rabbit comes to life and chews out Whie-Young for giving him a crappy personality. That’s worth the price of the volume alone. …