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Off the Shelf: Sports, Ghosts, Books, & Boys

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

This week, we check out new volumes of currently-running series from Yen Press and Viz Media, as well as a sweet, new one-shot from Digital Manga Publishing.

MJ: Hi, Michelle! So… I am totally out of semi-clever lines with which to begin this exchange. Um. Got books?

MICHELLE: Have I ever! I came close to answering “Far too many,” but then wondered if that could ever really be true.

MJ: I think emphatically not. :)

MJ: They really are! Also, I have to say that your description of the book has completely charmed me. I hadn’t had much interest in checking out this title, but now I feel I must read it!

MICHELLE: More like there are far too many I want to read right this minute!

One book that I did manage to read this week is Cool/Uncool, a recent release under DMP’s DokiDoki imprint. Cool/Uncool follows a pair of life-long friends turned lovers as they progress from high school to college and deal with various insecurities in their relationship. In the title story, Yukihisa can’t figure out why his friend Takashi keeps avoiding him. Savvy BL readers will think “It’s because he loves you, silly!” and that does tie into it, but the actual reason is completely random and rather endearing.

Each successive story visits the boys after the passage of months or more and reveals the status of their relationship at that point in time. Much of the plot is derived from one fellow feeling like he’s the only one feeling a certain way, whether it be the desire to stay together forever or jealousy of a female classmate. In the end, the message is “be straightforward with your concerns,” which is not exactly the most riveting conclusion ever, but it fits well with such a cute and cozy story.

I liked the art in this one, as well. There are quite a few comedic interludes that look positively adorable, but the artist has quite a way with eyes. Here, check out this example! (see attachment)

Aren’t they pretty?

MJ: They really are! Also, I have to say that your description of the book has completely charmed me. I hadn’t had much interest in checking out this title, but now I feel I must read it! …

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Manhwa Monday: November Preview

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Welcome to another Manhwa Monday! As we’re thrust, brutally, into November on this chilly Monday morning, it seems like the appropriate time to step back from frantic news-seeking and take a moment to ponder the month ahead in manhwa.

Yen Press goes it alone this month, at least in the print market, with final volumes of three manhwa series, Legend, Moon Boy, and the aptly-named Very! Very! Sweet. Other Yen Press releases this month include new volumes of Raiders, Japanese-produced Black God, and Manhwa Bookshelf favorite Time and Again.

With so many of Yen’s manhwa series wrapping up this month, our real question of course is, “Will there be new licenses to replace them?” We remain cautiously hopeful.

In the digital realm, NETCOMICS’ update schedule remains empty at the moment, but we do have high hopes. Though they don’t seem to have followed through with their promise of a Dokebi Bride revival last week, perhaps we’ll see something shortly? Meanwhile, webtoon publisher iSeeToon reports that their Magician iOS app is still on track.

For a bit of levity, here’s a link to some humorous speculation on the part of the National Catholic Reporter, in which managing editor Dennis Coday asks (regarding the upcoming Priest movie, among others), “Is the Catholic church a sure-fire money-maker for comic book movies?”

Critics continue to weigh in on the first volume of Japanese-produced, Korean-created March Story (Viz Media), with reviews this past week from Bill Sherman, Julie Opipari, and Kate Dacey. And at Manga Village, Lori Henderson discusses volumes two and three of Time and Again (Yen Press). I include the series in my list of favorite ghost-hunting comics over at Manga Bookshelf as well.

That’s all for this week!

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

The Best Manga You’re Not Reading: Presents

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Back in 2007, John Jakala coined the trademark-worthy phrase “comeuppance theater” to describe horror stories in which a mean, violent, or greedy person gets his just desserts: a vain woman becomes visibly grotesque, a murderer dies at the hands of his victim’s ghost. In order for comeuppance theater to be dramatically persuasive, the author needs to do more than just dream up a suitably ironic punishment for the villain; he needs to convince us that the villain is sufficiently deserving of said punishment, that the villain is, in fact, monstrous in his desires or behavior and not simply an average joe exercising bad judgment. We may not be rooting for the villain’s demise — we may even feel a twinge of sympathy for him or self-identification with his plight — but if the author has done his job, the villain’s punishment seems necessary for restoring the social order.

In Presents (CMX), Kananko Inuki puts an interesting spin on the material, using our love of gifts as the jumping-off point for some funny, nasty, and intelligent episodes of comeuppance theater. The series’ host is Kurumi, a strange little girl who doles out presents to bad people and victims alike. Some gifts prove the recipients’ undoing: in “Present of Love,” for example, a manipulative college student goads her suitor into buying expensive jewelry that he can’t afford, even though she loathes him. His last gift to her — a set of earrings that Kurumi promised would “bring them together” — initiates a chain of events that unite the foolish pair in death. Other gifts provide victims a tool for payback: in “The Scary Present,” Kurumi gives a giant, man-eating box to a girl whose big sister gives horrific, mean-spirited gifts, while in “The Return Present,” Kurumi helps a bullied teen find an appropriate present for her tormentor.

Not all the stories follow this exact template; Kurumi becomes less central to the plots in volumes two or three, sometimes functioning as a passive observer, other times not appearing in the story at all. Volume two, for example, opens with a peculiar — and not entirely successful — trio of stories about Christmas gifts’ potential to corrupt little kids. Other stories read more like fairy tales: in “Dream Present,” a young woman endures a series of painful rituals in order to win a prince’s hand in marriage (in homage to Cinderella’s stepsisters, she even dispenses with a few toes), while in “Konotori” (or “stork”), magical cabbages bestow fertility on deserving couples.

The most potent stories shed light on the indignities of childhood, especially playground politics. Many of Presents‘ female characters are preoccupied with their place in the school’s pecking order, selecting uglier or quieter classmates to serve as foils more than friends. Rinko, the mean-girl villain of “The Return Gift,” is a classic example, calmly admitting that her friendship with the shy, slow Suzuko makes her “relax and feel better about herself,” then quietly fuming when Suzuko begins coming into her own socially and academically. The principal characters in “The Keepsake” and “The Most Wanted Present” are similarly opportunistic, demanding extreme fealty from lonely, passive classmates; when these eager-to-please girls die in an effort to honor their promises, their tormentors suffer retribution from beyond the grave.

Frenemies are a staple of young adult literature, of course, but the bald presentation of the issue in Presents conveys the cruelty of the behavior more effectively than a more restrained, realistic depiction could, capturing the intensity of both the bully and the victim’s feelings in an immediate, visceral fashion. Inuki’s imagery in all three stories is cartoonishly grotesque: Rinko, for example, develops monster zits that look more like the handiwork of an alien virus than P. acnes, while Mamiko, the manipulative frenemy in “The Keepsake,” winds up with a grotesque scar on her chest in the shape of her dead friend’s profile. (Mamiko coveted Sakiko’s cameo brooch.) The pimples and the scars make visible Rinko and Mamiko’s true selves; though both are fully aware of what they’re doing (“I was happy to see the look of distress on Sakiko’s face,” Mamiko narrates), it’s not until they see their deformed likenesses that they grasp how hurtful their behavior really is.

The fact that bullies, mean girls, and big sisters factor so prominently into Presents suggests that Inuki was writing for a younger audience, a supposition borne out by her fondness for goosing the story with fleeting but gross images: a box of cockroaches, pus-covered wounds, rotting corpses. It’s a pity, then, that CMX opted for a Mature rating, as I think the series works well for teens, depicting the emotional horrors of childhood in a vivid, gruesomely funny way. The stories are varied enough to sustain an adult’s interest as well; readers with fond memories of Tales from the Crypt or The Twilight Zone will find a lot to like about Inuki’s work, from the efficiently of her storytelling — many of Presents‘ best chapters are less than twenty pages — to the pointedness of her punishments.

PRESENTS, VOLS. 1-3 • BY KANAKO INUKI • CMX • RATING: MATURE (18+)

The Best Manga You’re Not Reading is an occasional feature that highlights titles that aren’t getting the critical attention — or readership — they deserve. Click here for the inaugural column; click here for the series archive.

Failure Friday: Failing With Love

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When, just a few weeks ago, I brought to Twitter a need for a new feature for my then-empty Fridays, four great ideas were offered up, which I’ve begun rotating throughout the month. Two of these features have already debuted, Follow Friday and I Wish I Wrote That! The third came from the mind of David Welsh–a feature called “Failure Friday,” in which I could discuss bad manga. I rejected the idea at first, mainly on the premise that I love a lot of very flawed manga, at which point David pointed out that this might actually make the column more interesting.

He was right, of course, as David generally is, and when I sought out a failed manga for my very first Failure Friday, I found myself drawn to an early example of “very flawed manga” that I loved quite a lot. Not only does it have a Halloween-appropriate theme, but it was also a special challenge for me as a newbie critic. Though I’d certainly enjoyed manga of varying quality before I read this book, it was one of the first manga I was given to review formally, which put me in the position of having to analyze why I liked it despite its glaring failure. It also forced me to find words to express that, something I’ll take a second stab at today.

The manga is Heaven’s Will by Satoru Takamiya, published in English by Viz Media, a single-volume shojo manga about a girl, Mikuzu, who can see spirits (or oni). Mikuzu’s terrified of men, so it’s fortunate that when she meets our young hero, Seto, he’s all dressed up as a pretty, pretty girl. Besides cross-dressing, Seto eats cake, exorcises spirits, and hangs out with his quiet (but devoted) companion, Kagari, a vampire who can change into a wolf.

If you think this is beginning to sound cracktastic, we’ve barely even begun.

As it turns out, Seto cross-dresses in honor of his younger sister, whose death he feels responsible for–so much so, in fact, that he plans to get a sex change when he’s made enough money, after which he’ll transfer his sister’s spirit into his body, effectively killing himself in order to bring her back to life. Horrified by this revelation, Mikuzu is determined to convince Seto not to end his life, a conviction made even stronger by her own encounter with Seto’s sister (her spirit’s stuck in a fan Seto carries with him everywhere), who begs Mikuzu to save him.

So, here’s the thing. None of the above has anything to do with the failure of this manga. As over-the-top as this story’s premise and characters are, these are the things that Takamiya does well. She’s created an outrageous fantasy, sure, but within that fantasy, there’s believability in her characters and in their relationships with each other. Has anyone ever heard of a vampire who changes into a wolf? I certainly have not. But it doesn’t matter in the slightest, because that detail is so far from the point. Kagari is believable because his feelings and actions are believable, and this applies to everyone in the story.

There’s enough emotional complexity here to fuel a ten-volume series. Unfortunately, that’s where things break down. The concept is ambitious, but its execution falters the moment the story takes a turn that might allow it to effectively play out. Seto coerces Mikuzu into joining his exorcism business, which naturally would lead to a series of supernatural cases, each standing alone as its own story while moving the overarching plot along. It’s an overused construct, but proven to work. Still, Takamiya stumbles almost immediately, with a weak investigation into a haunted piano that offers little-to-no stakes for anyone involved and so easily solved, it’s difficult to imagine that there was any purpose to begin with. And at this point, the manga is abruptly ended.

As a critic, it’s impossible to ignore the artist’s obvious failure. Yet as a reader, I can’t help falling in love. I’ve said before that I tend to give points for ambition, and while that’s definitely the case here, it’s not the only thing drawing me back to this series. It’s Takamiya’s characters who have worked their way into my heart, and even now, I wish I might continue to follow them down their strange, poignant path.

My original review has been reprinted here, and re-reading both that and the book itself, I’m surprised to find that I actually look more kindly upon it now than I did then. Whether this is due to evolving tastes in shojo fantasy or simply an increased sentimentality as I’ve entered my forties is anyone’s guess. What both write-ups reveal to me, however, is a very clear sense of what I value as a reader. While, as a critic, I’m obliged to note things like outrageous melodrama and clumsy plotting, my personal satisfaction is derived from the story’s characterization and emotional content. And if those things are solid, I can forgive nearly anything else.

So, Heaven’s Will: “failure” or not? What do you think, readers?

Millennium Snow 1-2 by Bisco Hatori: B-

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Millennium Snow is the first series by Bisco Hatori (of Ouran High School Host Club fame), one of those that began as a stand-alone but eventually achieved serialization. It’s been on hiatus for some time, but now that Ouran has wrapped up, some fans are hoping that Hatori will return to it. I’m not so sure that’s a worthy endeavor.

Chiyuki Matsuoka has had a weak heart since birth, and wasn’t expected to live past the age of fifteen. She’s managed to make it to seventeen, but spends most of her time in the hospital. One day, as she is gazing out the window, she spots a boy fall from a building and dashes out of the hospital to check on him. He is Toya, the very personification of the seemingly gruff hero who actually has a heart of gold. He’s also a vampire, weak from his refusal to drink blood.

Toya is exceedingly abrasive to begin with, but eventually demonstrates he’s not such a bad guy by doing things like accompanying Chiyuki on an afternoon outing (vampires have overcome their aversion to sunlight) and catching a little kid’s loose balloon. Chiyuki falls for him pretty quickly and offers to become his partner. Having a human to feed upon will cure the exhaustion he suffers from abstaining and the arrangement will also allow Chiyuki to share his 1000-year lifespan. Toya refuses, because if his partner should ever despair of their unending life, he would be the one to blame—he’s watched humans he cared for die, and wouldn’t want to wish the same on his partner.

It’s an interesting dynamic, and the first chapter—which I assume constituted the original one-shot—is quite good. Unfortunately, one the story gets serialized, Hatori seems hard-pressed to come up with plots. First, she introduces Satsuki, a werewolf boy whose transformation is limited to fangs and clawed hands and feet in order to best preserve his bishounen appearance. When the story focuses on his desperate attempts to be normal, he’s a fairly compelling character, but he quickly becomes dim-witted and entirely too glomp-happy, existing only to incite Toya’s perturbation. Their incessant squabbling means that on practically every page someone’s yelling or getting kicked in the back of the head.

To demonstrate the dearth of plot ideas, in volume two the trio is suddenly lost in the Alps in Switzerland, where they stumble upon a deserted mansion. It is incredibly random, and brings home the point that while you may have two likable leads—plus a completely adorable talking bat!—you may find yourself without sufficient material to sustain a longer story.

I’m not sure how it can be salvaged at this point, honestly. I think I’d rather see Hatori embark upon something new and leave this one unfinished. When the romantic tension between Toya and Chiyuki takes center stage, the story’s potential is obvious, but the directionless plotting and constant bickering makes for a frustrating reading experience.

Millennium Snow is published in English by VIZ. The series is currently on hiatus in Japan.

3 Things Thursday: Ghost Hunters

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It’s no secret that manga (like all media) has its share of overused plots, premises, and characters. This is, of course, inevitable. There is nothing new under the sun, and after 35,000 years or so of human storytelling, it’s important to accept that execution, not conception, is the real key to originality in fiction. What makes a story special is the skill and passion behind its telling, not the story itself, nor the surprisingly finite number of character types available for an author to work with.

That said, I think each of us has our favorites–our “bulletproof” stories, if you will–those particular plots and character types we love indiscriminately, regardless of their objective success. I discussed one of mine in last night’s Off the Shelf, but it’s hardly the only one I have.

While pondering a Halloween-appropriate theme for this week’s 3 Things, it occurred to me that one of my very favorite overused manga premises involves the ghost hunter–someone who, whether for cash or moral duty, has the job of communicating with and expelling spirits from the world of the living. Now, this premise can be pretty broadly applied. Even a story like xxxHolic will sometimes delve into the world of exorcism and the like, but for the purposes of this column, I’m going to require that this be the primary occupation of the series’ protagonist(s).

So, for this week’s 3 Things, I give you three favorite comics about ghost hunters!

1. Tokyo Babylon | CLAMP | TOKYOPOP – Though the (unfinished) apocalyptic epic X/1999 gets more fan attention overall, my own preference is for its shorter, more quietly heartbreaking predecessor, Tokyo Babylon, which tells the story of pure-hearted onmyōji, Subaru, and the events that lead him towards his role in the darker, angrier X. Though the series is far from perfect, the plight of its gentle protagonist is one that continues to haunt my heart. From my review of the full series:

“The primary message CLAMP drives home in Tokyo Babylon is that no person can ever truly understand another person’s pain, and that the kindest thing people can do for themselves and each other is to recognize and embrace that fact … Subaru leads an oddly passive existence, dutifully fulfilling his calling as directed, though his personality is obviously ill-suited for the job … his naturally compassionate nature allowing humanity’s darkest corners to erode his seemingly incorruptible heart.”

2. Rasetsu | Chika Shiomi | Viz Media – Whether it be books, television, or film, sequels are rarely looked upon with much respect, so imagine my surprise when I discovered how much genuine emotion this manga sequel (to the popular shojo series Yurara) was prepared to bring to the table. From my recent review of volume six:

“What keeps this series compelling is that it is profoundly unsettled, and this applies to both the hearts of its characters and to their individual circumstances. There’s more to everyone than meets the eye. Furthermore, though each of the story’s characters is deeply conflicted, they still manage to band together into an unexpectedly warm, self-made family unit … Though this series gets off to a lukewarm start, over the course of six volumes it has become one of my favorite of Viz’s shojo series currently in release.”

3. Time and Again | JiUn Yun | Yen Press – As the newest ghost-hunting series on the list, this manhwa, with three volumes currently in English, has the potential to become my very favorite of its kind. Though its first volume displayed some significant narrative weakness, it continues to become stronger with each new release. Deeply damaged characters are often the most interesting, and boy does this series provide. I’m long overdue with a follow-up review, but for now, my take on volume one:

“Though this volume’s storytelling is somewhat uneven, especially in terms of character development, there is more than enough to chew on for readers interested in ghost stories, or even eighth-century Chinese culture … The stories are steeped in a solemn stew of religion and folklore, finding their inspiration in Chinese poems… and other sources of varying East Asian origin …Though the result of all this inspiration is not nearly as profound or thoughtful as one might expect, the book is intriguing and emotionally affecting all the same.

And now I leave it to you! Readers, what are your favorite ghost-hunting manga or other Halloween-flavored tropes? Respond in comments or in your own blog!

Halloween Rain by Christopher Golden and Nancy Holder: C-

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From the back cover:
Around Sunnydale, they say a scarecrow saturated with Halloween rain will come alive and slaughter anyone in sight. (Lovely place, Sunnydale.) Buffy’s best friends, Xander and Willow, used to think the tale was nonsense—but after a few adventures with Buffy, they’re not so sure.

Even without a maniacal scarecrow, a Sunnydale Halloween is a truly horrific happening. There are enough zombies and vampires about, ready to party hearty and eat some brains, to keep the Slayer and her friends up all night.

And then the rain starts to fall…

Review:
It just wouldn’t be Halloween Week without a Buffy book, now would it? Unfortunately, this one is nothing to get excited about.

The story is set in the first season, after the episode “The Pack,” since former principal Mr. Flutie (eaten by some hyena-possessed students in that episode) is dead and buried. It’s also Halloween, which is a problem, as Buffy was not in Sunnydale for Halloween of her tenth-grade year (1996-1997). I mean, I didn’t conduct an exhaustive search for confirmation that she transferred in the spring, but I’m pretty sure that is the case. (Update: A sign in episode three, “The Witch,” confirms that it’s 1996, so I was wrong.)

Anyway, there’s apparently a legend in town that says to stay away from scarecrows on rainy Halloweens, because they come alive. After hearing about this from Willow and Xander, a memory niggles at Giles until he works out a connection between scarecrows and Samhain, who is referred to as “the dark lord,” the spirit of Halloween,” and “the pumpkin king.” While Buffy is off fighting a slew of zombies in the graveyard, Giles prepares a bunch of symbols and wards and stuff to fight Samhain. There’s a battle in a field, a barn burns down with Samhain trapped inside, and Buffy wins. The end. Yawn.

The humdrum nature of the plot is really nothing new for a Buffy media tie-in novel; usually the main draw of these is how well the writers capture the characters’ voices. Christopher Golden and Nancy Holder went on to write many more Buffy books, but I’m sure this was their first, as it’s only the second of the series, published in 1997 (before the season two episode “Halloween” established that demons are actually not very interested in the holiday). As a result, their success with the characters is hit or miss.

A lot of Buffy’s dialogue is cheesy and her thoughts rather vapid. Like this one, for example:

If she didn’t start hanging with her friends more, they might adopt a new Slayer as their bud. Or not, since there weren’t any others.

On the other hand, the Xander/Willow dynamic is conveyed pretty well, and there is one brief, simple exchange that would’ve been fully at home in the show.

“It gets worse,” Willow said, and tugged on Xander’s hand.

“I hate worse,” Xander grumbled.

The authors also seem to have a fondness for the phrase “clone that thought,” since it’s used at least three times.

I can forgive a lame plot if the characters are written well, but Halloween Rain is a success in neither category.

Off the Shelf: Boo!

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

In keeping with the holiday, Michelle and I take a look at some creepy comics from Yen Press, Tokyopop, and Manga BlackBox.

MICHELLE: Hey, did you hear that skritching noise? I think some zombies are trying to get in!

MJ: I’m safe! The workday already ate my brains. But wait, is that the howl of a werewolf?

MICHELLE: A ravenous one, no doubt! To take our minds off our impending doom, why don’t you tell me about a manga you read this week?

MJ: Okay! Well, my first selection isn’t exactly manga, though it is an East Asian comic. With Halloween approaching, I thought it was time to dig into some horror, but nothing from my to-be-reviewed shelf quite fit the bill. Fortunately, my husband is addicted to his iPad where he found a new app, just released yesterday, featuring award-winning Malaysian artist Leong Wan Kok’s From a Twisted Mind, published for iOS by a company called Manga BlackBox.

The book’s cover is immediately striking, with a surreal, psychedelic creepiness one might expect if, say, the Yellow Submarine had carried mad scientists instead of musicians. I plunked down my $3.99 based on the cover alone, which turned out to be a pretty good deal, all told. What I got for my money was a collection of seventeen short comics by Leong (sometimes known as “Puyuh”), originally published in four volumes, mostly horror (with one short volume’s worth of black & white fantasy/sci-fi stories in the back), all visually stunning.

The quality of the storytelling is uneven, as is the case of most short comic collections. The series’ first story, “Fantasy Aquarium,” (click title for screenshot) about a carnival run by vengeful fish, is delightful, and though it makes for a splendid opening, it sets the bar perhaps a bit too high for many of the comics that follow. Highlights include “Metamorphosis,” a creepy tale with a twist; “Love Virus,” about a biology student who wreaks disgusting vengeance on a backstabbing friend; and “The God of Happiness,” who is definitely not what he seems….

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Gyo 1-2 by Junji Ito: B+

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Walking fish aren’t the usual sort of monsters one associates with Halloween, but their invasion makes for creepy reading nonetheless!

Tadashi and his high-maintenance girlfriend, Kaori, are vacationing in Okinawa when Kaori begins complaining of putrid smells. Soon after, a chase ensues between Tadashi and a barely glimpsed, fast-moving creature, culminating with the discovery that said critter is actually a fish with four spindly mechanical legs. This is just the tip of the fishberg, though, as Okinawa is soon overrun by walking fish, which quickly spread to mainland Japan and eventually the rest of the world.

Despite the attempts of the back cover to induce me to regard the series as “horrifying,” the primary adjective I’d use to describe it is “weird.” The scenes of walking fish—and sharks, squids, and whales—swarming down city streets are alarming but fun in a disaster movie kind of way. For most of the first volume, I actually smiled as I read. Things get more serious in the second volume, with revelations about what the creepy legs will do once they run out of fish bodies to use as fuel, but the weird only gets weirder—there’s a critter circus, for example—and the series never loses its page-turning momentum.

While I’d primarily classify Gyo as something fun that’s not too deep, it does offer some commentary on scientific ethics, particularly in the person of Tadashi’s uncle, who immediately begins trying to create a walking machine of his own. Some will be put off by the lack of a finite ending, but I find it interesting. If this were a disaster movie, we’d probably be given the opportunity to cheer on our battered heroes as they figure out the creatures’ vulnerability and blow them all to smithereens, but Gyo stops short of that point. Will mankind prevail? Will the world be overrun? We’ll never know.

Two short stories are included in volume two. “The Sad Tale of the Principal Post” is short and random, but I liked “The Enigma of Amigara Fault” a lot. In it, an earthquake has revealed a rock formation riddled with human-shaped holes that go farther back into the rock than researchers are able to measure. People have flocked to the site after seeing it on TV, somehow drawn to holes that seem to have been tailor-made for them. A young man named Owaki tries to keep his new female friend, Yoshida, from entering her hole, and suffers some vivid (and way more horrifying than the fish-monsters!) nightmares about what could happen to a person who enters. The final page suggests he was right.

In the end, I wouldn’t classify Gyo as amazing, but it—and “The Enigma of Amigara Fault”—are certainly entertaining and memorable. I may have to check out more from Junji Ito, like the spooky spiral menace of Uzumaki!

Gyo is published in English by VIZ and is complete in two volumes.

Manhwa Monday: From the Twitter feed

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Welcome to another Manhwa Monday!

Much of our news this week comes from the Twitter account of NETCOMICS, who reported last week (among other things) on an upcoming project (not yet licensed nor in consideration for such, in case you’re about to ask) by E. Hae, author of Not So Bad and Roureville. See illustration on the right. Such a tease!

In other news from NETCOMICS, they’re just about to reopen the world of Dokebi Bride, a series languishing on indefinite hiatus in Korea that still has a volume’s worth of untranslated material available for western readers. Also, fan favorite Full House continues at long last.

It’s great timing for Full House, which I chose just two weeks ago as Manga Bookshelf’s pick of the week.

NETCOMICS also put in a plug for their parent company, ECOMIX who just joined Twitter. Korean language skills required for both of those links.

In other news, via Brigid Alverson at MangaBlog, Strategypage.com reports that South Korean manhwa has begun to seep into North Korea via bootleg CDs.

In the category of Things I Like To Rant About, the NY Times asks the question, “What is manga?” and manages to dismiss 100 years of Korean comics history by referring to manhwa as a “manga variant.” So what does Korea have to do to earn a little cultural identity around here, huh?

Somewhat related to this subject, I suppose, last week marked the release of March Story, a Japanese manga series written and drawn by Korean creators Hyung Min Kim and Kyung Il Yang, published in English by Viz Media on their Signature imprint. My own copy is on its way, but a few reviewers have already spoken, notably Manga Curmudgeon David Welsh, Comic Attack’s Kristin Bomba, and Comic Book Bin’s Leroy Douresseaux.

Elsewhere, Angela Eastman takes a look at volume two of Sugarholic (Yen Press) at Mania.com, and at Okazu, Erica Friedman takes a swipe at publishers’ clumsy translations of gay sex terms as she reviews volume six of Click (NETCOMICS).

That’s all for this week!

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

I Wish I Wrote That!

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Welcome to the second of my new, recurring Friday features, “I Wish I Wrote That!” (concept thanks to the awesome Deb Aoki) in which I highlight manga discussion and criticism so awesome I wish I’d written it myself.

Since this is my very first stab at this feature, I’m going to let myself talk about some pieces that aren’t necessarily new, and even one that has nothing to do with manga.

First off, wow, do I wish I’d taken part in the wonderful AXed Twitter roundtable. Besides being great conversation, it was a wonderfully creative use of the medium. Here are links to parts one and two, and a bit of an excerpt:

  MangaCur Let’s start with the stories, in order: “The Watcher,” by Osamu Kanno.

That piece felt very much like a “Chef may use peanuts in some recipes” kind of warning, if that makes sense. Not that every story is going to have kind of ugly art, dogs peeing into skull wounds, and creepy nudity, but some do, so… Or if not precisely set the tone, at least made sure nobody would be surprised that the collection would go weird places.

debaoki Yes, that’s true – like the first song in an soundtrack or concept album, “The Watcher” set a certain tone as the first story in AX. I didn’t really get what Osamu Kanno was going for with The Watcher, other than to make fun of selfish suburbanites

Toukochan Bleah. It seems Japan also has what I dislike about indie comics in its own manga. The art in The Watcher reminded me of Leo and Diane Dillon’s work for Dangerous Visions, for some reason.

factualopinion “The Watcher”: probably one of the best last panels of all the stories available. Little too long, i’d say.

The latest installment of the Manga Moveable Feast, this time hosted by Sean Gaffney, led Manga Curmudgeon David Welsh to repost his older review of Setona Mizushiro’s After School Nightmare. After reading that review, I realized that I never need to move beyond my own first volume review. I’ll simply point people to David’s. An excerpt:

  In a lot of manga aimed at an adolescent audience, the characters’ objectives are sunny and straightforward. Do your best! Be true to yourself! Learn! Grow! Befriend! Love! You can dress those objectives up however you like and contextualize them in sports or sorcery or pop stardom, but the bottom line is basically the pursuit of happiness.

What makes a book like Setona Mizushiro’s After School Nightmare (Go! Comi) so alluring is that it’s about the aversion of unhappiness. The objectives here are just as straightforward, but they’re bleaker and probably more honest. Keep your secrets. Hide your flaws. Try not to hurt anyone more than you can avoid, but a teen’s got to do what a teen’s got to do.

Speaking of be-all and end-all reviews, I made the mistake of reading Kate Dacey’s wonderful review of Moto Hagio’s A Drunken Dream and Other Stories and it’s stymied me ever since. I can’t imagine being able to write about it so beautifully, and I certainly don’t have the background Kate provides at the beginning of the piece which informs her analysis throughout.

  Perhaps the best compliment I can pay Hagio is praising her ability to make the ineffable speak through pictures, whether she’s documenting the grief that a young woman feels after aborting her baby (“Angel Mimic”) or the intense longing a middle-aged man feels for the college friends who abandoned him (“Marie, Ten Years Later”). Nowhere is this more evident than in the final story, “The Willow Tree.” At first glance, the layout is simple; each page consists of just two large, rectangular panels in which a woman stands beneath a tree, watching a parade of people — a doleful man and a little boy, a group of rambunctious grade-schoolers, a teenager wooing a classmate — as they stroll on the embankment above her. A careful reading of the images, however, reveals a complex story spanning many years; Hagio uses subtle cues — light, weather, and the principal character’s body language — to suggest the woman’s relationship to the people who walk past the tree. The last ten panels are beautifully executed; though the woman never utters a word, her face suddenly registers all the pain, joy, and anxiety she experienced during her decades-long vigil.

Finally, because you know I like to cheat, I’ll throw in one piece of criticism that isn’t about manga at all, but that kept me thinking for days after I’d read it. That would be Shaenon Garrity’s piece on Cathy Guisewite’s Cathy, posted shortly after Guisewite announced her retirement from the strip. “I wish I wrote that” is a sentiment I can apply to nearly everything of Shaenon’s, but this is the section that really stuck with me:

  After decades of mainstream popularity, Cathy is still widely disliked by pop-cult elites like you and me. It whirls eternally between the Scylla and Charybdis of gender essentialism: men don’t like it because it’s about girly stuff, and feminist women don’t like it because it’s about girly stuff. Anti-feminists don’t have reason to like it either, what with the single-career-woman heroine who’s always been as open as newspaper syndication will allow about her casual sex life. That leaves just one demographic: women who are all for liberation and being your own woman and all that, but can’t quite figure out how to reconcile it with their actual lives. Women who never stopped feeling the pressure to cook like Betty Crocker and look like Donna Reed, and just added to it the pressure to change the world like Gloria Steinem. In other words, almost every woman of the Baby Boom generation.

When I think about some of the other, mostly-unflattering sentiments I read about Cathy around that time, like this horrifying essay from Tim Kreider at The Comics Journal (Kreider lets us know where he’s coming from with the title alone), it really highlights everything I’ve come to despise about the way so many men write about women’s comics. If they can’t relate to it, it must be crap, right? That’s the overwhelming message of Kreider’s essay and half the writing I see spewing from the keyboards of male comics critics online (kudos and gratitude to the other half, seriously, you have no idea). Thankfully there are women as brilliant and funny as Shaenon Garrity out there to create some balance.

3 Things Thursday: Love in Disguise

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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

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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

Review copies provided by the publishers.

Manhwa Monday: News & Reviews

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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

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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.