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All My Darling Daughters by Fumi Yoshinaga: A

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allmydarling“A mother is an imperfect woman.”

So thinks Yukiko Kisaragi, the central hub around which the collection of stories in All My Darling Daughters revolves. As the story begins, Yukiko’s mother, Mari, has just undergone a successful cancer operation and decides that, from now on, she’s going to live her life the way she wants. To Yukiko’s dismay, this involves getting remarried to an aspiring actor and much younger man, Ken Ohashi, whom she met at a host club. At first, Yukiko is convinced it’s a con, and maintains a guarded demeanor around Ohashi, but once he proves his love for Mari really is genuine, she breaks down. “She’s always belonged entirely to me,” she sobs.

From there, stories focus on those Yukiko knows. The second chapter is about a strange student named Maiko who forces herself on Izumi, a lecturer friend of Ohashi’s; the third features Sayako, a pretty friend of Yukiko who has decided to investigate arranged marriage; the fourth is about middle school friends of Yukiko and how their career plans went awry; and the final chapter focuses on Yukiko’s grandmother and her relationship with Mari. Meanwhile, we catch glimpses of how Yukiko’s life is evolving through a series of revelations about what has occurred “off-camera.”

At first I had a hard time understanding how some of these stories related to each other. Sayako’s story, for example, is incredibly touching and sad, but her mother does not play much of a role. The story of the forceful student seemed entirely out of place. But then the common thread hit me: this book is not just about mothers and daughters. It’s about the relationship between any caregiver and a child, and how something that might seem inconsequential to one could affect the other for the rest of their lives.

Sayako is crippled in love because her well-meaning grandfather told her, “You mustn’t discriminate among people.” Maiko has a warped view of relationships because someone indoctrinated her with a servile disposition—even though Izumi repeatedly says, “Who told you that?” it’s a perception she is unable and even unwilling to shake. Yukiko’s middle school friend is unable to fulfill her lofty goal of being a trailblazer for women in the workplace because an abusive father forces her to leave home early and quit school. Even Mari’s not immune, since her mother’s denigrating comments (made with good intentions, we later learn) about her appearance gave her a lifetime complex about her looks.

By the end of the volume, it’s apparent that Yukiko really is living a charmed life. Mari may be an imperfect mother, but she’s honest about her foibles and the two share an incredible relationship. Yukiko even achieves a sense of peace about her new step-dad, realizing “this strange boy is necessary for my mom.” Yukiko’s husband, Jun, is sweet yet equally imperfect, and a casual remark near the end of the volume reveals they’ve made headway in conquering a problem of equality in their marriage. Career-wise, Yukiko is the most successful of her group of middle school friends, prompting former chum Saeki to think, “At least one of us fulfilled her modest dreams.” And who is it whose fierce yet loving care enabled Yukiko’s life to turn out so well? I’ll give you one guess.

In addition to all of this thoughtful, integrated writing, Yoshinaga also employs her distinctive artistic style in the service of the story. True, the bulk of the panels contain talking heads in white space, but sometimes these headshots are exactly what one needs to get the point across. The most effective example of this occurs in the third chapter, when a two-page spread of close-ups is used to convey how Sayako and a prospective husband, Mr. Fuwa, have instantly achieved a content companionship. And if you don’t get sniffly when this technique is used again in the final two pages, you might just be a robot.

Review originally published at Manga Recon. Review copy provided by the publisher.

Blackout by Keith R. A. DeCandido: C-

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blackoutFrom the back cover:
New York City in 1977 is vampire heaven. Serial killer Son of Sam is often blamed for their hits, and a citywide blackout gives them free reign of the streets, allowing them to get away with murder. Spike and his beloved Drusilla are in the Big Apple taking advantage of the situation, as is Vampire Slayer Nikki Wood, who has hunkered down with her son, Robin, in a Times Square apartment where she thinks they’ll be safe.

But no matter where she goes, Nikki has to watch her back. Spike has only one thing on his mind: to slay a Slayer. Adding to Spike’s list of challenges is a corrupt local vampire community that catches wind of his presence, and when they start messing with him, things get bloody interesting.

Review:
It is a truth universally acknowledged that “Fool for Love” is one of the best episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Occurring near the beginning of the fifth season, this episode finds Buffy asking Spike how exactly he managed to best two Slayers in his time and Spike concluding that, in the end, all Slayers have a death wish. The themes of this episode tie in with the magnificent fifth season finale, “The Gift,” and it’s incredibly important for the characters concerned and the series as a whole.

It’s unfortunate, then, that the tie-in novel that fleshes out Spike’s encounter with Nikki Wood, the second Slayer to meet death at his hands, is so crappy.

The plot isn’t too bad: we first meet Nikki in 1973 when she learns about her destiny and begins training, and pick up with her later in 1977 when she’s quite the badass and a local folk hero, preferring to live amidst the poor and disenfranchised of New York rather than with her Watcher, whose swanky place is located in a neighborhood where the residents can depend on police protection. A vampire-led criminal organization is her chief bane, and Spike becomes problem number two. They have a series of charged meetings and only after she cleverly uses him to exterminate her other foes do they finally have that climactic battle on the subway depicted in “Fool for Love.”

It seems that DeCandido has done his work making the narrative fit the two times we see Nikki and Spike in the series (she also appears in season seven’s “Lies My Parents Told Me”) as well as incorporating the 1977 blackout into the story. Spike and Dru sound mostly like themselves—though DeCandido gets the color of her eyes wrong—and it’s clear that Nikki is resourceful and special.

So… what’s the problem? DeCandido cannot write a non-stereotypical black character to save his life! Every single male black person is wearing outlandish, pimp-like attire, sporting an afro, and talking jive. Nikki’s the only female black character we see, but she is consistently being compared to heroines of blaxploitation films and greeted with hails like, “Right on, Big Mamma Jamma!” Maybe the dialogue is the result of DeCandido’s misguided efforts to evoke a seventies feel by loading every single sentence with period-appropriate slang, but it’s cringe-inducing. Here’s Nikki’s first line as an example:

No, sugar, they ain’t got nothin’ to do with that cat. Don’t worry, they’re gone and they ain’t never comin’ back, you dig?

In the end, what could’ve been a fairly decent story is ruined by DeCandido’s writing, which I can describe as nothing less than embarrassing. I feel like I ought to apologize to African-Americans on his behalf.

Steal Moon 1-2 by Makoto Tateno: C

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stealmoon2As in the related series Blue Sheep Reverie, Makoto Tateno has gone beyond the call of BL duty to craft a science fiction plot of some complexity. One hundred years in the past, a computer on the moon called “Isis” was created to protect the president then in office. Now it’s rumored to be spying on the populace and seasoned street fighter Nozomi is recruited to help put it out of commission.

This all sounds fairly tame, but the way in which Nozomi gets involved is pretty bizarre. Boasting about his fighting skills after his latest victory, he declares that if anyone could beat him, he’d “willingly become his servant.” This is the cue for a mysterious guy called Coyote to show up, beat Nozomi, and promptly sell him to an internet peep room site. Because this is BL, Nozomi falls in love with Coyote, even though the latter says things like, “I wish I could’ve kept you imprisoned forever.” How romantic.

The peep show gig doesn’t last long, and Nozomi is eventually drafted into helping take down “Isis.” By the end of the second volume, he has learned more about Coyote so their relationship makes a bit more sense, at least, and some of the power dynamic issues are rectified. Nothing in the world can excuse the creepiness of the two twelve-year-olds in the peep show place with Nozomi, though. They’re fond of crawling all over him and striking sexy poses to drive up their hit counts, but the apex of ick occurs when one kid declares, “I’m gonna grow up real fast so I can service you!”

Um, ew?

Plotwise, Steal Moon is ambitious and occasionally even intriguing, but other elements of the story might incite a strong desire for brain bleach.

Review copy for volume two provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.

Manhwa Monday: 1/24/10

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Hello Manhwa Monday readers! This week’s featured review comes from Kate O’Neil at Mania.com, where she takes a look at volume one of Gyojeong Kwon’s The Adventures of Young Det, published in English by NETCOMICS.

The unusual thing about this series, as the reviewer notes, is that the first volume is very clearly a prologue which does not yet feature the series’ main characters. “Hopefully, this isn’t wasted time and some of this information will prove important later in the story.” For the most part her comments are positive. “It sketches a well thought out fantasy world…” she writes. “It’s a refreshing change of pace for fantasy readers, and it’ll be interesting to see where the story leads.”

I first became aware of this series via Michelle Smith, who listed it as one of her favorite manhwa of 2009. Check it out in print, or online at NETCOMICS.com. …

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Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator by Roald Dahl: C

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charlieelevatorFrom the back cover:
Now that he’s won the chocolate factory, what’s next for Charlie? Last seen flying through the sky in a giant elevator in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Charlie Bucket’s back for another adventure. When the giant elevator picks up speed, Charlie, Willy Wonka, and the gang are sent hurtling through space and time. Visiting the world’s first space hotel, battling the dreaded Vermicious Knids, and saving the world are only a few stops along this remarkable, intergalactic joyride.

Review:
This reminds me a lot of what happened when I read The Neverending Story. Its film version (the original, thank you!) debuted around the same time I discovered Willy Wonka, actually, and I loved it just as much. I read the book about ten years ago, but the portion that was filmed ended about halfway through. The rest, as far as I remember, was a psychedelic story about a lion and wishes and multi-colored sand. It wasn’t bad, but neither was it the story I loved.

Similarly, Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator continues where the first book left off and yet fails to achieve the magic of its predecessor. Mr. Wonka and Charlie’s family are taking the elevator back to the factory Charlie has just won, but Charlie’s three bedridden grandparents—who will fulfill the role of trouble-causing brats throughout the book—prevent Wonka from pressing a certain button at the right time and the elevator ends up entering orbit. So, essentially, you’ve got an eccentric guy in funny clothes piloting a box through space with some regular humans in tow for companionship. Sounds familiar…

Misadventures in space ensue, primarily caused by Wonka being somewhat of an ass and the grandparents being morons. I felt bad for Charlie on several occasions, because it seemed he wasn’t having very much fun. Eventually they get back to the factory, and the grandparents are at it again; the final quarter of the book is spent on de-aging them with the benefit of one pill and then re-aging them with a sort of magic oil. It’s pointless and not at all enjoyable. Add to this some potty humor and an unfunny incompetent president and you come up with a book that I will probably never read again.

If you love Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and want to preserve your warm and fuzzy memories of same, do yourself a favor and avoid the sequel.

Dark Congress by Christopher Golden: B-

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darkcongressFrom the back cover:
Since the beginning of time, the demonic races have gathered every century to resolve conflicts among them and to determine the course of their future. This centennial event is called the Dark Congress.

Buffy is horrified and disgusted to be included as an arbiter of these conflicts. After all, she is not a demon… is she? She knows so little about her powers that she cannot say for certain where they truly spring from. How can she spend so much time wallowing in the darkness without becoming part of it? Can she possibly agree to a truce with all the horrors of the world and allow them to come to the Hellmouth in Providence, Rhode Island without any attempt to stop them? And does she have a choice?

Review:
Dark Congress is unique because of it’s one of only two Buffy tie-in novels set after the conclusion of the series. (Here is the other. Its apparent cracktasticness is most appealing.) This removes some of the constraints placed upon a media tie-in author, and, free from said limits, Golden seizes the opportunity to do what many a fanfic author has done before him: break up Willow and Kennedy and resurrect Tara. Oh sure, lots of other stuff about demons happens, but c’mon. Who really cares about that?

Tara’s resurrection is actually handled admirably well for a novel such as this, prompting some very in-character reactions. Buffy, for example, wants to be happy but is cautious and worried. Later, after Tara proves herself to be genuine, she is fiercely protective of their happiness, a characteristic Buffy has displayed towards her friends’ relationships on the show, too. My favorite reaction, however, comes from a horrified Giles, whose very first words to Willow are, “What have you done?” I shan’t spoil how everything turns out, but their reunion is quite compelling.

Golden also has a good ear for the characters’ speech patterns, and there were many lines that I could hear perfectly in the actors’ voices, Oz and Faith especially. The plot about the demon council is really not very interesting, but it’s an excuse to bring all of our core characters (and a returning character from Golden’s Gatekeeper trilogy) together again. Although the whole back cover is devoted to the history of the Dark Congress, all you really need to know is that the lead demon, Kandida, wants to broker peace between demons and humans, but she’s killed, and a “mystery” ensues wherein the Scooby Gang seeks to find her killer(s). I say “mystery” because it is completely and utterly obvious who is responsible.

Obviously, most of this story is not going to fit with the canon Season Eight comic book series from Dark Horse. It seems Golden had a little bit of knowledge about it, though, since a mention is made of Dawn being away preparing a castle in Scotland to serve as the new Slayer headquarters. This book was published in August 2007 and the first issue of the comic was released in March of that year, so it seems possible that the reference was intentional and not merely a lucky guess.

In the end, this is one of the better Buffyverse books I’ve read so far. It seems like the demonic threats are always going to be lame in these stories, so the best anyone can hope for is a successful depiction of the characters, and Dark Congress does deliver on that front.

Full House, Vol. 2

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Full House, Vol. 2
By Sooyeon Won
Published by NETCOMICS


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In the aftermath of their engagement party, Ellie and Ryder progress from passing angry notes to bickering openly in the privacy of their newly shared home. Despite their mutual show of antipathy, they are unmistakably drawn to each other—Ryder to Ellie’s fearlessness and self-confidence, and Ellie to Ryder’s surprisingly considerate nature. Any hint of potential romance is nipped quickly in the bud, however, by the reappearance of Ellie’s ex-boyfriend, Felix, who turns up on their doorstep begging for forgiveness. Determined not to play the fool, Ryder uses his next film shoot as an excuse to stay away from Ellie and her resuscitated relationship, but when an opportunity arises for him to uncover her true intentions regarding Full House, he finds himself pursuing her in an unexpected fashion.

“They always come sliming back.” This wise statement regarding the nature of ex-boyfriends was uttered by an old friend of mine back in the day, and it works surprisingly well as the theme of this installment of Full House. Though Felix makes a fine show of his contrition and heartfelt affection for Ellie, it’s hard to forget that he was the guy who so brutally dumped her for not being eager enough to jump into the sack. Though it seems obvious that Ellie will eventually throw him over for Ryder (who at least gets her excited, if not quite in the way she’d like) execution is the key to this series’ charm, not result, so it would be a terrible shame to rush.

Though this series is, frankly, stunningly predictable, to leave it at that would be a grave oversimplification. Manhwa-ga Sooyeon Won has an extraordinary talent for turning romantic cliché into storytelling gold, a skill she would later refine to perfection in her outrageously poetic boys’ love epic, Let Dai. Her secret to this is brazen excess, which in this case applies to the series’ endless stream of classic screwball comedy banter—precisely the thing that makes the story so much fun in the first place. Will Ellie and Ryder get together? Of course. Will they face numerous rivals, career obstacles, and ridiculous misunderstandings along the way? Sure! Frankly, none of it matters as long as they keep talking … and talking and talking.

While the narrative trajectory of Full House may not leave much to question, the real mystery here is why, with recent acquisitions such as Full House, Please, Please Me, and Small-Minded Schoolgirls, NETCOMICS has not already become the prime online destination for grown-up women who read comics. For fun, sexy comedy with a fantastic vintage feel, check out Full House.

Complimentary online access provided by the publisher.

Comic, Vol. 8

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Comic, Vol. 8
By Ha SiHyun
Published by Yen Press


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Picking up immediately where volume seven left off, Patrick and Alice impulsively seek each other out in a last-ditch effort to rescue their relationship. Unfortunately for Patrick, it is in this crucial moment that he discovers just how much his single lie has cost him. Despite her desperate desire for Patrick, when Alice finds herself stranded in the rain with only enough change for one phone call, it is Neil she banks on as the reliable choice. Truthfully, she’s not wrong. Neil turns out to be the ideal boyfriend—attentive, affectionate, playful, kind—all the things Patrick never was, even at his best.

As Alice’s new relationship goes public, Daria seizes the the chance to reprise her play for Patrick, this time yielding more satisfying results. The most significant development in this installment, however, is that after four frustrating volumes, both Alice and Patrick remember that they are manhwa-ga.

Does that last line sound sarcastic? It might be just a little. For the most part though, it’s just plain gratifying to see even the slightest hint of the story’s original premise creeping its way back to the page. And though the manhwa-ga plotline is hardly front-and-center, it is actually responsible for a few of the volume’s most amusing bits. It is fairly hilarious to watch, for instance, as Neil, filling in as an assistant on Patrick’s manhwa, cluelessly asks his best friend for advice on kissing his new girlfriend—a request Patrick ultimately fulfills by handing him an armful of sunjeong and shojo comics.

What works less well in this volume are some of the standard romance scenarios, like a tedious chapter near the end of the volume in which Neil’s plans for an intimate evening with Alice are relentlessly interrupted by his meddling sister. Yet, while scenes like this play out too obviously to be believed, others sparkle with joyful sunjeong goodness, though they tend to weigh heavily against the main romantic pairing.

“I feel full even when I don’t eat. I have fun even when we don’t do anything,” Alice muses to herself in the midst of a giddy afternoon date with Neil. “The guy I used to like never made me feel this good. Ever.” Reading something like that, it’s hard to feel enthusiastic about the prospect of a break-up, fated romance be damned!

Regardless of this volume’s minor shortcomings, it’s really nice to see this series finally back on track as something just a little more interesting than a standard high-school romance. Let’s hope volume nine continues the trend!

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Happy Cafe, Vol. 1

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Two Guys, a Girl, and a Pastry Shop might be a better title for this rom-com about a teen who waits tables at the neighborhood bakery, as the characters are so nondescript I had trouble remembering their names. The girl, Uru, is as generic as shojo heroines come: she’s a spunky, klutzy high school student who blushes and stammers around hot guys, bemoans her flat chest, and wins people over with her intense sincerity. The two guys — Shindo, a moody jerk whose boorishness masks a kind nature, and Ichiro, a cheerful slacker — are just as forgettable, despite the manga-ka’s efforts to assign them novel tics and traits. Shindo, for example, turns out to be a genius who finished high school at fifteen, while Ichiro suffers from hunger-induced narcolepsy, keeling over any time his blood sugar drops.

The plot, like the characters, has a similarly generic quality. At the beginning of volume one, Uru walks past Cafe Bonheur, overhearing a conversation between two giggling, satisfied customers. She then resolves to land a gig at the “Happy Cafe,” as she calls it, but is nearly defeated by the job interview: she accidentally breaks the front door, endures rude comments from Shindo about her youthful appearance (she looks ten), and nearly falls over Ichiro, who’s sprawled, unconscious, on the kitchen floor. (Shindo administers first aid in the form of a bun, reviving his co-worker.) Undeterred, Uru pleads with Shindo for a job, eventually persuading him to hire her on a trial basis. Broken dishes and spilled coffee notwithstanding, Uru quickly insinuates herself into Shindo and Ichiro’s lives.

Happy Cafe aims for a mixture of wacky comedy and heartfelt drama, but doesn’t quite succeed on either count. The humor is mild but not very funny; the few good gags — Uru’s super-strength, Ichiro’s ability to nap anywhere, anytime — are repeated with little variation until they cease to register as jokes. The drama, too, is tepid and predictable; every conflict is resolved so neatly and sweetly that a strong whiff of pointlessness hangs over the whole enterprise. Early in the volume, for example, we learn that Uru is living on her own, thanks to her mother’s decision to marry a younger man. Uru misses her mom terribly, but worries that her presence interferes with mom’s new relationship. So far, so good: the idea of a mother allowing her sixteen-year-old to live alone is a little ridiculous, but the set-up could yield some juicy, emotional scenes. Matsuzuki squanders that potential by resolving the conflict in a matter of three pages: mom and stepdad beg Uru to return, Uru asserts her desire to visit but maintain her independence, and her parents shower her with affection. The end.

Matsuzuki’s artwork is serviceable, if not memorable. Her characters are virtually indistinguishable from the cast of Me & My Brothers, right down to their perfectly messy hair, rail-thin frames, and noseless faces. Matsuzuki struggles with more ambitious perspective drawings; some of her attempts to place characters on different levels in the picture plane result in unnaturally foreshortened bodies. Where Matsuzuki’s art shines is in her characters’ nuanced facial expressions. Uru’s round, open visage registers a convincing range of emotions, from embarrassment to loneliness to indignation. On those occasions when Uru smiles — sweetly or with mischievous intent — it’s easy to grasp why the terminally grouchy Shindo keeps her around, as the character radiates joy.

If I were to compare Happy Cafe with baked goods, I’d say it reminds me of a Duncan Hines cake mix: it’s easy to follow, yields predictable results, and, while sweet, is curiously bland. Readers in search of manga comfort food could certainly do worse than this sugary dramedy, though I’d steer more adventurous souls towards The Antique Bakery or Cafe Kichijoji de, both of which are funnier, tastier, and sexier than this by-the-book shojo title.

HAPPY CAFE, VOL. 1 • BY KOU MATSUZUKI • TOKYOPOP • 192 pp. • RATING: TEEN

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl: A-

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charliechocolateFrom the back cover:
Willy Wonka’s famous chocolate factory is opening at last! But only five lucky children will be allowed inside. And the winners are: Augustus Gloop, an enormously fat boy whose hobby is eating; Veruca Salt, a spoiled-rotten brat whose parents are wrapped around her little finger; Violet Beauregarde, a dim-witted gum-chewer with the fastest jaws around; Mike Teavee, a toy pistol-toting gangster-in-training who is obsessed with television; and Charlie Bucket, Our Hero, a boy who is honest and kind, brave and true, and good and ready for the wildest time of his life!

Review:
I’m not sure why we spent what seemed to be the entire last week of fourth grade sprawled on the carpet of the media center wearing out one of those new-fangled videotapes of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory by watching it over and over again, but sprawl and watch we did. I don’t remember anyone complaining when, after the movie ended, it was immediately begun again, but perhaps my recollection is clouded by how much I loved (and still do) the film. Until now, however, I had never actually read the original book though I’ve owned it for several years.

As most people probably know, this is the story of humble and poor Charlie Bucket who loves chocolate very much but must be content with nightly meals of watery cabbage soup. As luck would have it, a huge and world-famous chocolate factory is on his way to school and every day he pauses to sniff the air near Wonka’s Factory, though his family is so poor they can only afford to give him one bar of chocolate each year on his birthday.

When Wonka announces his Golden Ticket contest—in which five Golden Tickets are hidden in Wonka chocolates, each entitling one child to a tour of the facilities and a life-time supply of candy—Charlie tries not to get his hopes up, but is nonetheless disappointed when his birthday bar fails to contain the golden prize. A second bar paid for from his Grandpa Joe’s secret fund yields the same results, and Charlie has almost given up hope when a lucky dollar found on the sidewalk buys him a bar containing the fifth and final Golden Ticket. The next day, Charlie and Grandpa Joe join four other children and their parents in a tour of the fantastic factory. Each of the other children has a flaw—eating too much, being spoiled, chewing gum constantly, and watching too much television—and is disqualified along the way by some means connected to it. In the end, only Charlie remains and it’s a happy ending for the well-deserving child.

Although the basic flow of the plot is the same and indeed, some lines of dialogue are used verbatim in the film (“Violet, you’re turning violet, Violet!”) there are some differences. No one in the book sings except for the Oompa Loompas (who are not orange and are sometimes female), and their songs are not nearly as catchy in print form. Charlie and Grandpa Joe do not commit the grievous sin of sampling fizzy lifting drinks, although the beverages and the method to combat their lifting powers are discussed, and Veruca’s exit is facilitated by nut-evaluating squirrels rather than an egg meter. I seem to recall that Tim Burton’s film version (which is pretty awful) keeps the squirrels, so perhaps special effects in 1971 were simply not up to the task of bringing them to life on the screen. Most importantly, there’s neither Mr. Slugworth nor any testing of Charlie to see whether he will protect Wonka’s secrets. When I was a kid I didn’t like that part because Wonka was mean to Charlie, but now that it’s gone, I find I miss it. In the book, Charlie is an observer who wins mostly by process of elimination, but in the film he’s required to prove his goodness and is a more interesting character.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is thoroughly charming and is undoubtedly a classic of children’s fiction. The fact remains, however, that I still like the movie more. Gene Wilder brings so much to the role of Willy Wonka, retaining his eccentricities but also endowing him with both warmth and menace, that even the original pales by comparison. Add to this the film’s more fleshed-out portrayal of Charlie and my choice is clear.

Avatar by John Passarella: C+

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avatarFrom the back cover:
When Angel arrived in Los Angeles, he assumed he’d find enough evil to keep himself busy for, well… eternity. Up until now, he’s had his hands full in real time. So when Cordelia suggests starting up a web site for their detective agency, he’s hesitant. As Doyle puts it, “People in trouble want to interface with a face.”

Soon, though, the police discover a trail of desiccated corpses stretching across the city. The only thing that binds these victims (other than their cause of death) is their pastime pursuit: online chatting. One by one, they are being hunted by a techno-savvy demon. And when this monster has claimed his final victim, he will have completed a ritual that extends the arm of his evil far beyond the reaches of even the Internet…

Review:
Much like Ghoul Trouble, a Buffy the Vampire Slayer book by the same author, Avatar features a pretty lame plot brightened by some entertaining moments between the characters and a good feel for each character’s voice. It occurs early in season one, seemingly before episode eight, “I Will Remember You,” because Angel doesn’t seem to have seen Buffy since he left Sunnydale.

Frankly, the less said about the plot of Avatar the better. It makes sense, I suppose, but there’s nothing great about it. I did find one thing interesting, though. Often, media tie-in books are prohibited from having anything genuinely important happen to the characters. In Avatar, that still holds true but some events are inflated to seem like they are very important. For example, after Angel saves a bunch of teenagers being held prisoner by some sewer-dwelling demon bugs—slipping into vampface in the process—one of the teens says something like, “What are you?” Angel slinks away and the text reads, “Never before had his human face felt so much like a mask.” Really? A fleeting encounter with a teen in a sewer eclipses all of the other times Angel’s had angst about the duality of his existence?

The best part about Avatar is the depiction of the main characters, especially some nice conversations between Doyle and Cordelia and Angel’s observations about Doyle’s chances for a romantic relationship with her. Many fans agree that the worst episode of Angel‘s first season is “She,” featuring Bai Ling as a violet-eyed, leather-clad leader in a flimsy story meant to serve as a metaphor for female circumcision. Angel’s supposedly attracted to her, but no one can figure out why because she’s so boring. Avatar is certainly not as good as the best episodes of season one, but it is definitely better than “She.”

Except for the part where Angel dances. That part is awesome.

Crown of Love, Vol. 1

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Crown of Love, Vol. 1
By Yun Kouga
Published by Viz Media


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“I’d sell my soul to the devil … if it would make her notice me.”

Hisayoshi Tajima is an aloof high school student—a stereotypical “prince” type, fawned over and admired by all the girls in his class. Though none of his classmates has ever caught his interest, a chance encounter on the train throws him into sudden infatuation with a young female idol, Rima Fujio. Over the next month, his fixation with Rima becomes so strong that everything else (including schoolwork) begins to slip as he spends most of his time attending Rima’s video tapings and keeping up with news from her fan club. Fortunately (or unfortunately) for Hisayoshi, he catches the eye of Rima’s former manager, Ikeshiba, who lures him into a career as an idol with the promise of getting him close to Rima.

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.” With that in mind, it’s not surprising that this volume offers an uneven mix of clunky exposition and insightful characterization.

The volume’s narration switches point-of-view constantly, revealing far too many of the characters’ inner thoughts, most of which could be more effectively implied through the story’s dialogue and art. The story’s chronology is all over the place too, jumping back and forth from Hisayoshi’s encounters with Rima, his disapproving father, and Ikeshiba, creating a great deal of confusion over what happens when.

All this aside, where Kouga succeeds, and stunningly so, is in her characterization. There are no shojo stereotypes here, despite appearances.

As he watches his desperate, submissive mother cowering under the rule of his controlling father, Hisayoshi is horrified to recognize himself in both of them. He is sickened by the intensity of feeling he has for Rima, a girl he barely knows, but can’t stop himself from prostrating himself before her, like his mother before her husband. Similarly, he recognizes his father’s stubborn arrogance in his own face and voice and hates himself for that. Hisayoshi is fully aware of what he means to Ikeshiba—fortune, notoriety, and possibly (though only lightly implied) sexual satisfaction—and though it angers him, he is willing to be led along in order to achieve his own goals. For all his righteous anger, he’s ready to play the game, too. “You’re so convenient, like a taxi,” he says to Ikeshiba after calling him in the middle of the night for a ride and a place to stay.

The idol, Rima, is in love with her married former manager (Ikeshiba) and resentful of Hisayoshi, whom she sees as a rival—more for Ikeshiba’s attention than the public’s, though she uses the latter as her rationale. She is insecure about her position in the business and endlessly embarrassed by her mother’s indiscretions. Rather than the typical bird in a gilded cage, she is portrayed as a scared young woman who gratefully accepted her career in order to escape her family and her own limitations. “Well, I can’t get a real job! There’s nothing else I’m good at!” she barks at Hisayoshi, angered by his nonchalance over his own career. More than anything, though, she wants to be taken care of by someone more capable than her mother.

Ikeshiba, however, is the series’ true piece of work. Manipulative and emotionally unavailable, he has few scruples about anything if it will get what he wants. When Rima’s attachment to him becomes too desperate to be convenient, he simply turns her over to another manager. Still, he’ll use that attachment to help reel in Hisayoshi without even a trace of guilt. His full interest in Hisayoshi is unclear, though he carelessly engages in a sort of artful flirting when Hisayoshi calls him for help. His full interest in anything is really anyone’s guess, though he goes about it all with a smile on his face. “I’d sell my soul to the devil … if it would make her notice me,” Hisayoshi muses early on. It seems somewhat possible that he has.

The fact that the characters seem to know just how screwed up they are is what rescues them from being too disturbing to bear, though even then it’s hard to read some of Hisayoshi’s internal monologue without feeling a bit of a chill. “I keep thinking of all these different things I want to do with you. Like this… and that…” he says to himself near the end of the book, dreaming of Rima. “But that’s okay, right? As long as I’m just thinking about it, it’s not wrong. I haven’t done anything yet.” It’s difficult at this point to tell just how seriously Kouga takes the broken universe she’s created in Crown of Love, something that will ultimately decide whether the series is deep and insightful or just plain creepy.

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.

Though this series’ first volume has its share of stumbles, it is also genuinely intriguing, more than many shojo titles can claim this early on. Crown of Love is definitely worth a try.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Manhwa Monday: January Thaw

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One of my favorite reviews this week came from David Welsh over at the newly-renamed Manga Curmudgeon, for JiUn Yun’s Time and Again (Yen Press). Though this book has been featured here before, his review is so delightful, I simply can’t help myself.

David begins his review by likening the book to a character played by a young Barbara Stanwyck, “… sexy, funny, moving and often ruthless. It’s about an exorcist-for-hire who seems more inclined to give his clients what they deserve than what they request.” This description of the title’s lead character, Baek-On, is so apt, I wish I’d written it myself. Also this, “… his skills with the unquiet dead are virtually moot in balance with his indifference towards the unquiet living.”

Check out David’s review for further insight and wit. …

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Monkey High! 8 by Shouko Akira: B

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monkeyhigh8Beginning with volume seven, the age rating of Monkey High! was changed from Teen to Older Teen to reflect the leads’ growing interest in consummating their relationship. They finally achieve their goal in the first chapter of this final volume, but thereafter are kept busy with studying for exams and preparing for their final school festival.

An irksome last-minute rival pops up in the form of Gotoda, Haruna’s father’s secretary and his choice for her fiancé. Because her father, recuperating from an illness, and Gotoda are working from home constantly, Haruna accepts Macharu’s offer to stay with him for a while. Gotoda’s a scheming sort, though, and Haruna unfortunately allows herself to be swayed by his assertion that one day she’ll be a burden to Macharu. Happily, by the end of the volume she has found the confidence to believe that if such a time ever comes, they’ll work through it together.

The things that’ve been kind of annoying about Monkey High! all along are still annoying at the end: the reliance on shojo clichés and the occasionally intrusive antics of the supporting cast. Against the zany backdrop of a maid and butler café, for example, Haruna and her father have an important conversation. It’s a big moment, but is hampered by the shenanigans going on around it.

Still, despite its faults, the conclusion of this series made me sniffly and, really, isn’t that the best possible outcome for a Shojo Beat title?

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.

Monkey High! 7 by Shouko Akira: B

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monkeyhigh7From the back cover:
Different classes, college preparations, and a disapproving father all make it hard for Macharu and Haruna to be together. So when they win tickets for an overnight stay at a resort, it seems like a great chance for them to take their relationship to the next level…

Review:
Although I liked this volume of Monkey High! somewhat less than the others, it certainly has its share of positives. Macharu and Haruna, sent by their class to fetch a wedding gift for their teacher, spontaneously enter a raffle and win tickets to “Mouse World,” including an overnight stay at a resort hotel. Haruna is anxious and Macharu, who frankly admits he wants to have sex with her but is not the least bit pushy about it, realizes that the situation is troubling her and so gives the tickets to the teacher. This moment of genuine sweetness works to quell Haruna’s doubts and, when the trip won’t fit in with the newlyweds’ itinerary, it’s Haruna who now advocates going.

The resulting date is wonderfully awkward. Both are so concerned with making it a special day that every time something goes wrong, it’s a crushing blow. It’s a bit painful to read, but it’s a situation with which most people can likely sympathize. I also like how a couple chapters later, when Macharu suddenly gets gung ho about working to get into college, it’s Haruna who feels that she’s being left behind even though she’s the one with better academic prospects. She has several goals that she’s been pursuing independent of Macharu, but it’s only now that she realizes he’s going to be experiencing things without her, as well.

On the negative side… the whole resort plotline reminds me of something I just read in High School Debut and of course the two leads are interrupted (by the collapse of Haruna’s father) before they can consummate their relationship. It’s not that I’m all pro-teen sex or anything, but because they don’t go through with it, we’ll probably be in for more angst about whether they should. At least the interruption puts Macharu in contact with Haruna’s dad, who says nasty things about his lack of prospects and inspires all that hard work that has Haruna fretting.

Also, it feels like the whole volume centers on the question of closeness for the couple. How close are we? Are we less close now? It feels like we’re more close now. Oh, wait, now we’re less close again. Now we’ve had a poignant conversation and we’re close again. I still like the characters a lot, and these moments provide opportunities for Haruna to show her vulnerable side and Macharu his more mature side, but it does get a bit repetitive.