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Ultimate Venus, Vols. 2-3

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By Takako Shigematsu
Published by Go!Comi
Rating: OT (16+)

At the end of volume one, Yuzu was left wondering why she’d been saved by her chief rival for the Shirayuki fortune, Iyo Hayashibara. As volume two begins, she and her bodyguard, Hassaku, head to the Hayashibara estate to confront Iyo, and instead find out that he is actually the body double for the real Hayashibara heir who is none other than Yuzu’s close friend, Haruka. Iyo is beaten and tossed out for his betrayal, and is later hired by Hassaku to act as a second bodyguard for Yuzu. Meanwhile, Yuzu realizes that she is in love with Hassuku, though he is careful to keep her at a distance. Things are further complicated in volume three by the introduction of a young filmmaker, Masaya, to whom Yuzu discovers she has been promised in marriage.

Though little more than a silly soap opera on the surface, Ultimate Venus offers some surprisingly rich moments. Yuzu’s private display of grief after discovering that Haruka’s friendship with her was a sham is truthful and touching, as is her distress when she is fooled into believing that Iyo has taken a bullet for her. The story’s constructs are melodramatic and packed with cliché, but underneath it all is a real story of a real girl growing up and discovering what’s important to her. In volume three, once Yuzu decides to be honest about her feelings for Hassaku, she finally begins to show some real confidence in her own strength of heart. Another treat in these volumes is the further development of Iyo’s character, which reveals him to be an unusually perceptive and complex young man.

Volume three ends on a rather dramatic note, as Yuzu determines to stand up to her grandmother, Mitsuko, and refuse the arranged marriage, promising more drama as well as more “screen time” for the stylish, sagacious Mitsuko, whose appearances were notably few in these volumes. Fortunately, with Yuzu’s growing confidence and resolve, Mitsuko is no longer the only strong woman in the series, a trend that will hopefully continue! It is the strength of Shigematu’s characters that allows this series rise above its superficial premise to deliver some genuine insight along with the fun.

Review copies provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.

The Blade of the Courtesans

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By Keiichiro Ryu
Vertical, 304 pp.

Matsunaga Seiichiro is a master swordsman, trained by the legendary Miyamoto Mushashi, who has spent his entire young life in the mountains of Higo province cut off from the rest of the world. At the age of 26, as directed by his now-deceased master, Seiichiro leaves the mountains with nothing but his sword and a letter of introduction and finds himself in Edo’s pleasure quarter, Yoshiwara. When he discovers that the man to whom the letter is addressed is no longer living, Seiichiro is momentarily lost, but he soon finds some purpose in defending those in the quarter against the Yagyu clan, a fearsome group of ninjas who are loyal to the shogun. Not everyone is as they seem and as the story goes on, much is revealed about both the society Seiichiro has wandered into as well as his own personal heritage.

Set at the beginning of the Edo period, The Blade of the Courtesans is painstakingly woven into the fabric of history. Keiichiro Ryu’s characters stand alongside well-known historical figures and the author obviously has an extensive knowledge and deep love of the period. Unfortunately, this attention to history is also responsible for one of the book’s greatest flaws. Ryu frequently pauses the story to explain terminology or expound on historical fact, which, while interesting, breaks the flow of the narrative to a nearly fatal point. These pauses increase as the book goes on, pulling the reader out of the story for pages at a time to offer detailed explanations of its historical context, most of which have only minimal impact on the plot. At times, Ryu instead uses his characters to deliver this information, which is just as clumsy and almost as distracting.

Also clumsy is the novel’s narrative mode, which spells out far too much of each character’s thoughts and feelings, saving the author from having to figure out how to reveal these things organically through action and dialogue. Some of this may be due to the difficulty in translation, but the result in English just reads as lazy writing. As with the huge chunks of historical background, what Ryu really reveals here is his lack of skill as a novelist.

The story itself is a strange, meandering thing, sometimes appearing to have gotten a bit lost, much like its protagonist. It is strongest in the beginning, before becoming too deeply mired in the long historical passages. Though it does gain some momentum just before the end, the conclusion feels quite rushed, as major characters are shunted quickly to the side with very little explanation.

For all its awkwardness, however, The Blade of the Courtesans has some truly stirring moments. Early on, one character delivers a sudden, fiery speech to Seiichiro as they lay on a rooftop, proclaiming, “Living ought to be something more magnificent. It’s so fantastic that just thinking about it makes you sigh, makes your blood rush. But if it’s like this… if that’s all it is, then I’ll cast it all aside. Any time, I’m ready to die!” It is in moments like this that Ryu is at his strongest, letting his passion run out over the page. He lends his passion to several of the supporting characters and even occasionally to the dully-virtuous Seiichiro, particularly in his encounters with elite courtesan, Takao, and in his art with the sword.

Unfortunately, some of that passion is marred by philosophies and biases that, while doubtlessly appropriate to the time period, are difficult not to find offensive today. Much of the novel’s philosophical emphasis is placed on the lifestyle and beliefs of the Kugutsu clan, a nomadic group of wandering puppeteers, who call themselves “companions of the way.” The Kugutsu pride themselves on their lack of worldly entanglements, and particularly on the strength and autonomy of their women, from whom many of the Yoshiwara courtesans were descended. It is difficult, however, to swallow a vision of female empowerment in which a woman’s liberty is measured only by the number of men she will share her bed with. The story constantly describes the power of women in the Yoshiwara society, yet in the midst of an impassioned explanation of how the women are able to come to Yoshiwara to “rinse away their origins” and escape from the persecution of their clans, it is revealed that they are indentured to the various houses in the pleasure quarter (all owned by men) until their 28th birthday, at which time they may choose to get married or to remain courtesans for the rest of their lives. That these women, shackled to a system that values them only for their skills in lovemaking, are held up as the pinnacle of female beauty and sovereignty is inexpressibly sad.

Though The Blade of the Courtesans offers a level of historical detail that anyone with an interest in Japanese culture would find genuinely fascinating, its difficulties as a fictional narrative are many, rendering it an ultimately unsatisfying read.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.

A few links on a sick day

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I’m battling illness and stabbing blindly at a difficult review, so just a little link-blogging from me today!

First of all, I keep re-reading Ed Sizemore’s review of Naoki Urasawa’s 20th Century Boys and find myself desperately wanting to read the manga. This has shot straight to the top of my to-buy list. Ed’s reviews are always very much from the heart, and it’s obvious how much he enjoyed this manga. Example number 100,000,347 of How Reviews Sell Manga.

Speaking of reviews selling manga, check out Michelle’s recent review of classic shojo manga A,A’. Made me want to buy that too!

At Manga Recon’s recent roundtable, the bunch of us talked about our hopes and fears for film adaptations of manga. I piped up in favor of adapting shorter, less-popular series that could grab someone other than the usual action flick crowd. Not that I expect that will ever, ever happen.

So, has everyone been following the conversation about manga at Hooded Utilitarian? I’ve avoided dwelling on it too much, because I keep getting angry, but one point rings true. I haven’t ever been able to get deep into western comics, and one of the reasons, I think, is that I find them visually overwhelming. So aside from the inaccurate (and insulting) aspect of the argument that simple = simplistic, I think there is something to the fact that I am a manga reader at least in part because the art is easier for me to follow. That is not the only reason by far, nor is it the biggest reason (which is actually that I find the stories being told in manga much more to my taste), but it is definitely a factor.

ETA: Of course I realize now that most of what I just said there has already been said much more eloquently and with less vitriol by Brigid Alverson.

Okay, gotta go. Be sure to check out Deanna’s post from earlier today!

Thank you. Here, have some monsters.

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Thank you all for the warm reception to my introductory post! It was great to read the comments and discussions. Ed and Grace, I’ll definitely have to post my thoughts about Ranma ½ when I read more volumes. And Jun is definitely tempting me toward Boys Over Flowers. My library does not have Basara or One Thousand and One Nights so I’ll have to be on the lookout for used volumes.

I also have a question for everyone. I’m considering going to Sakuracon here in Seattle this April. It will be my first anime-con so I am interested to hear if you have any advice or opinions about this particular convention or anime-conventions in general.

As promised, I’ve returned to talk about Life Volumes 1-8, Canon, and Seimaden Volumes 1-10. Of the series I have started this year, there have been some standouts, like Life and Only the Ring Finger Knows (which I’m going to save for my next post). And then there are the series I just have to shrug my shoulders over and even find myself giggling about inappropriately, like Canon and Seimaden. Spoilers after the jump if you have not read these series
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A, A’ by Moto Hagio: B+

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Back in the late ’90s, Viz dabbled in this weird thing called “shojo manga” and released a few one-shot volumes. A, A’ (A, A Prime), a collection of science fiction stories, was among these, and (lamentably) represents the largest chunk of material from Moto Hagio available in this country. Hagio, along with many other women who were pioneers of shojo manga, was born in 1949. These women came to be known as the Year 24 Group, as 1949 was the 24th year of Japan’s Showa era. Exploring themes of sexuality and gender, many of their works are considered classics. Hagio’s contributions include some of the earliest boys’ love stories, like The Heart of Thomas, and Shogakukan Manga Award-winning story “They Were Eleven,” published by Viz in floppy comic format as well as in the hard-to-find Four Shojo Stories anthology.

The three stories in A, A’ also deal with themes of gender and identity, each involving a member of a genetically engineered race of people called “Unicorns.” In the title story (my favorite), a team of people is working to develop an icy planet. Because of the dangerous nature of their mission, each person’s genetic information was saved prior to their departure so that they can be cloned if they should die. Adelade Lee has just undergone that process, and has returned to her post with no memory of the past three years she spent there or the comrades who greet her so warmly. The original Adelade’s lover has a great deal of trouble adjusting to the clone, insisting that it isn’t really her, but growing confused nonetheless. I really like the resolution to this one and would’ve been happy to read more about these characters.

Instead, the other two stories feature Mori, a young man with telekinetic powers and a “kaleidoscope eye” that allows him to see the infrared spectrum, similar to what the Unicorns can see. In “4/4,” we meet Mori as a teenager who, along with other kids with special powers, is living on Io and training to control his abilities. Things aren’t going well until he meets Trill, a Unicorn who is the subject of a scientific experiment. The pair of them “resonate,” allowing Mori temporary access to more control and also eventually providing Trill with the ability to object to the experiments being performed upon her. This story is my second favorite, and I particularly like how Trill’s lack of emotional involvement is portrayed; there’s a great scene where Mori seizes and kisses her and she just sort of blankly endures it, like a doll.

Unfortunately, I didn’t like the last story, “X + Y,” very much. There’s a conference being held on Mars to discuss plans to improve its conditions, and the team sent from Earth to take part includes a male unicorn named Tacto. On Mars, he meets Mori, four years older now, who becomes obsessed with Tacto. I understand that back when this was written, it was probably a stunning thing for one guy to confess his love to another, but in “X + Y” it all seems far too rushed to me and I never understood why Mori feels that way. He also gets on my nerves by behaving very stupidly when he and Tacto are out riding a space scooter on a ring of Saturn (really!), resulting in a life-threatening accident. The Mars theories don’t make much sense, nor does a subplot about Tacto’s chromosomes. Hagio tries to interject some humor into this tale, mostly by having Tacto (who refers to himself in the third person) say random things like, “Tacto likes pudding.” It’s cute, but not enough to improve my opinion of the story.

To modern eyes, Hagio’s artwork will surely look old-fashioned. Drawn between 1981 and 1984, it features some interesting fashions (particularly for Adelade) and a male romantic lead with a flowing mane of curly hair. There’s a lot of variety in the page layouts, and more than one image of characters superimposed over moons, stars, and other celestial bodies. I may mock it a bit, but I do genuinely like it; it’s nice to read something that doesn’t look like anything else.

For the title story alone, A, A’ is worth picking up. I can’t remember how much I paid for my copy, but I don’t think it was much. There are ten copies listed on Amazon right now so it shouldn’t be hard to find.

Review originally published at Manga Recon.

The Franchise Affair by Josephine Tey: A-

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Book description
The Franchise Affair resembles some of the best work of Poe in its introduction of an apparently inhuman evil in an otherwise sedate country setting. Robert Blair, a lawyer who prides himself on his ability to avoid work of any significance, is interrupted one evening by a phone call from Marion Sharpe. Ms. Sharpe and her mother live in a run-down estate known as the Franchise, and their lives drew little attention until Betty Kane charged them with an unthinkable crime. Ms. Kane, having disappeared for a month, now says that she was held captive in the attic of the Franchise during her entire absence.

While her story seems absurd, her recollection of minute details about the interior of the house sway even Scotland Yard. Blair—chosen by Ms. Sharpe for her defense because, as she says, he is “someone of my own sort”—must dust off his neurons and undertake some serious sleuthing if his client is to beat these serious charges. As with all fine mysteries, one has the sense of being in a sea of clues with a solution just out of reach.

Review:
After reading the first two Inspector Grant mysteries, I had trouble believing that the same author could produce The Daughter of Time, which I’ve heard referred to as a classic of the mystery genre. I am happy to say that The Franchise Affair has cured me of my doubts. While not perfect, it is still so much better than its predecessors that I am heartened.

Told from the point of view of humble country lawyer Robert Blair, The Franchise Affair is unusual in a couple of ways. For one, the crime in question is not murder. An innocent-looking schoolgirl accuses a couple of solitary women of holding her captive, and it’s up to Blair to investigate and help mount a defense. Also, Inspector Grant barely appears. As the book is at least nominally classed as an entry in the Inspector Grant series, I find it a bit odd that the one I like best so far features the title detective so little.

The Franchise Affair is full of likable characters. Blair has grown tired of his quiet, easy life, and is unexpectedly stimulated by the Sharpes’ case. He also grows very much to like the younger Miss Sharpe, an independent, warm, and witty woman. I am kind of a sucker for middle-aged romance, so I enjoyed how he went from thinking of her as Miss Sharpe, to Marion, and then to how he would do this or that once he had married her. Especially great are all of the qualities he likes her for, and that she isn’t forced to compromise on those qualities in the end. She also has a fun, feisty mother who proves a dab hand at giving betting tips for horse racing.

I also like the writing style. At times, it feels surprisingly modern for something written in 1948. It’s full of amusing turns of phrase and a gently ironic tone. I snickered several times, the first occasion being the third sentence, which was a good sign.

The end is not quite as good as the rest, as some improbable and very dramatic events occur. The way the trial plays out also seems a bit… unorthodox to me. It was around this point where I began to be reminded of watching an old movie, so I was compelled to look it up and, sure enough, this novel was made into a movie in 1951. Interesting factoid for Doctor Who fans: one of the workers at the garage where Blair keeps his car was played by Patrick Troughton.

On the whole, I found The Franchise Affair to be charming and enjoyable. Because of its nature, it would work quite well as a stand-alone, but has also restored my hopes for the quality of the others in the series.

Captive Hearts, volume 1

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First things first, Monday means manga minis at Manga Recon, and I have one review there, for the second volume of Lay Mitsuki’s Yggdrasil from publisher Go!Comi. It’s one of those titles that could end up being incredibly good and packed with meaning, but it’s hard to tell at this point. Now on to the main topic.

Something I chose for a quick read yesterday evening, was volume 1 of Matsuri Hino’s Captive Hearts, a collection of three manga short stories (the first of which I believe will be continued) about love, or more accurately, obsession. I dug into Captive Hearts without having read anything about it, though if I’d actually paid attention to the cover art, which features a couple donned in wedding attire and chains, I might have been less surprised about the content. …

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Yggdrasil, Vol. 2

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By Lay Mutsuki
Go!Comi, 200 pp.
Rating: OT (16+)

Student Koki Tachibana is a high-level player in the massively popular online roleplaying game, Yggdrasil. All the game’s most popular players are permitted to create a second “avatar” with which to play the game without being bothered by fans. Having retired his original avatar, Phantom, Koki is content pursuing low-level quests with childhood friend Haruna, until someone else hacks into Phantom’s account and turns up in the game.

In the second volume, strange programming glitches are springing up game-wide. The game company challenges players to discover the origin of the bugs, and Koki logs in as Phantom to accept the challenge. As he does, he’s approached by superstar songstress avatar, Teal, who unknowingly reveals herself as the player behind Aoi, a low-level avatar who is a regular on quests with Koki and Haruna.

Because most of the story’s menace exists in a world that is fictional even within the story, the “dangerous” world of Yggdrasil never feels quite real despite the characters’ devotion to the game. Yggdrasil is at its strongest when it focuses on the characters’ “real life” identities and relationships, and how those are affected by the avatars they play. Haruna’s growing crush on Koki, glimpses of the real-life girl behind Teal, and even the game company’s behind-the-scenes politicking are all more emotionally engaging than anything that happens regarding the game itself.

The art has a sketchy style that makes action sequences difficult to follow, but also lends an otherworldly quality to the characters’ online lives that is quite effective. The game’s fantasy element allows mangaka Lay Mutsuki to play with looks from multiple eras in a fun, attractive way, though the story’s “real life” sections could benefit from a simpler style.

Only in its second volume, Yggdrasil‘s potential has just begun to be tapped. It will be interesting to see where the series goes from here.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.

Food, food, delicious food

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So yesterday, on a bit of a whim, Paul and I decided to drive out to Cambridge (a good hour and forty minutes away) to go to the little Japan area at Porter Square, primarily to shop in the Japanese market they have there, though we ended up browsing other stores as well. I had no idea such a place existed, actually, until Paul found it online. What a lucky find!

At the market, we picked up lots of food, including snacks. My favorite find was their spicy tuna & mayo onigiri. If this is what convenience store onigiri tastes like in Japan, I can understand why everyone is always eating it. This is something I make at home a lot, but while the rice in my onigiri always gets hard and dry if I refrigerate it overnight, this onigiri’s rice remained magically perfect and moist, even after a night in my fridge. Yum, yum, yum.

While we were there, we picked up lunch at one of the many little restaurants, and I got to eat takoyaki (octopus dumplings, for those who are not obsessed with Japanese culture like I am) which was squishy and delicious!

The main reason for the trip, however, was to pick up ingredients for sukiyaki, which we had for dinner today! Paul got a portable gas stove for Christmas, just the thing for cooking food at the table, so with the perfect setup, we served up our sukiyaki (Kanto style), raw egg and all. It was extremely delicious, and will be a wonderful dish to share with family and friends!

Busy, busy, busy

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The week has been a little crazy, and I haven’t managed much manga-wise, other than reading a couple more volumes of Yotsuba&! (SO CUTE) and making three trades at mangatude (YAY). I do have a couple of reviews up at Manga Recon today, though, and they are both of pretty interesting titles, so I’ll pass the links along here!

First off, I review Viz’s Heaven’s Will in today’s On The Shojo Beat column, and I must tell you that though I only graded it at a B-, I actually really liked it. It’s a complete mess, and impossible to recommend, but there is something so compelling about its quirky cast of characters, I really just wanted more. Read my review, and you’ll see what I mean. I should point out, too, Michelle’s review of Otomen vol. 1 in the same column, which made me want to run right out and buy it, though it’s obviously just for fun.

Secondly, I have a full-length review of the first volume of Nanae Chrono’s new series, Momo Tama. Writing this review was incredibly difficult for some reason, especially surprising considering that I quite liked the volume. I’ll be interested to see where this series goes, and whether it really does become a full-blown comedy as the promotional material suggests. I kind of hope it doesn’t, because it’s more interesting to me the way it is now.

Okay, that’s all for now. I look forward to the long weekend!

Momo Tama, Vol. 1

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By Nanae Chrono
Published by TOKYOPOP, 192 pp.
Rating: T (13+)

Kokonose Mutsu is the “ninth successor” of a family of ogres who, according to legend, were long ago banished from their home island by a young hero named Momotaro. This tale, passed from generation to generation in the Mutsu family, describes how, with the help of his three companions (a dog, a monkey, and a pheasant), Momotaro defeated the ogres, claiming back the treasure stolen from his people. The “treasure” as Kokonose understands it is actually the island itself, and as Momo Tama begins, Kokonose is infiltrating an island-bound ship on a mission to reclaim his family’s home. The ship, as it turns out, is filled with a diverse group of “students” who have been plucked from their lives without explanation. They are being transported to the island’s military school where they will be taught by a group of eccentric instructors (including the descendants of the original Momotaro and his companions) to defeat the ogres who still remain.

Though he initially represents himself as just another of the group, Kokonose does not attempt to keep his mission secret for long, and his identity is revealed in spectacular fashion at a dinner held to greet new students. Surprisingly, he is permitted to remain as a student at the school despite the fact that he has openly declared his intention to overthrow the current Momotaro. As Kokonose and the other students prepare to begin their training and the volume winds to a close, it becomes increasingly clear that both the island and its inhabitants are hiding some very dangerous and powerful secrets.

In typical manga fashion, Momo Tama hits the ground running, but the minimal exposition is not quite enough to carry it, and it takes quite a while for things to solidify enough to make sense. The second half of the book is much easier to follow, however, and though the end of the volume leaves a great deal unexplained, the stage is effectively set to draw readers into the next installment.

Interestingly, the promotional material for the volume highlights the series’ comedy, describing it as, “…the hilarious adventures of a boy who just might make you die laughing!” While there is plenty of humor to be found in Momo Tama, what has been presented so far suggests that it has much more to offer than laughs. The first volume introduces an intriguing mix of fantasy, action, suspense, and genuine whimsy that is really quite delightful once it finally begins to come together.

The legend passed down by both the Mutsu clan and Momotaro’s menagerie is notably short on detail, but what is there is tantalizingly odd. Besides the fact that Momotaro’s “army” apparently consisted of three fairly small animals (whose descendants, by the way, are inexplicably human), the story also tells us that Momotaro was a foundling born from a peach, and that he recruited his tiny army by offering them sweet dumplings cooked up by his adoptive mother.

The present-day story is not any less idiosyncratic, but quite a bit more sinister. Alongside the goofy premise (and a predilection for bunnies) exists a steady sense of true danger. For example, there is a moment tucked into the middle of a silly dorm scene near the end of the volume in which a second-year student confides that the island is “serious trouble” and that some of the new students will undoubtedly be killed. This short scene is actually quite chilling and there are moments like that throughout the volume, ensuring that the story never falls too far into pure fancy.

This is not to suggest that TOKYOPOP’s promotional material is wrong. Kokonose, though only nine years old, speaks in a pompous, excessively cerebral manner reminiscent of Brain, the lab mouse bent on world domination in Warner Brothers’ Animaniacs cartoons. Both his self-important behavior and his absurdly oversized clothing are obviously meant to provide humor (and they do), yet he is presented so honestly in all his ridiculousness that he somehow manages to exude a kind of dignity. He is arrogant, manipulative, kind when it is least expected, and occasionally struck with a childlike wonder that belies his grown-up rhetoric.

What promises to be the real charm of Momo Tama, however, is its supporting characters, particularly the “dog,” Kouichirou Yamato, whose exuberant sincerity fills the page with sunshine, and the likable nerd, Mamoru Kashii, whom Kokonose latches on to early on in the story. With so much going on, these characters’ stories have barely begun, but mangaka Nanae Chrono defines them masterfully from the start, surrounding the over-the-top Kokonose with a rich set of more nuanced players to interact with.

Chrono’s art is crisp and attractive with just the right amount of detail, able to portray both the real and the ridiculous with ease. Here, too, the characters are particularly well-defined, which is a great asset in a story with as many characters as this one has.

Despite a somewhat confusing start, Momo Tama‘s first volume ends strong, and with its fun cast of characters and intriguing setup, it looks to be a series worth following.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.

Otomen 1 by Aya Kanno: B+

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High school student Asuka Masamune has a reputation as a cool and stoic guy. He’s ranked number one in the country for kendo, and has black belts in both judo and karate. His name alone inspires fear in the hearts of his would-be opponents. But Asuka has a secret. Beneath this carefully-crafted masculine exterior, he yearns to read shojo manga, make plushies, and fall in love. When he meets tomboyish Ryo Miyakozuka, his veneer begins to crack. He finds himself wanting to do things to help her, like finish a home ec sewing project, make tasty bento lunches, and teach her to make the perfect birthday cake for her father. After Ryo mentions that she prefers masculine guys, Asuka tries to be her ideal, but with some encouragement from frenemy Juta, eventually realizes that he wants to be his real self with the person he cares for.

It’s difficult to see exactly why Asuka falls in love with Ryo in the first place, but once they start hanging out together, her personality begins to come through. They’re joined by classmate Juta, whose playboy ways tick Asuka off, but whom he gradually accepts because Juta’s friendship is also important to Ryo. They develop a kind of xxxHOLiC dynamic, with Asuka preparing lunch for the three of them while muttering things like “why am I always making enough for this guy as well?” Unbeknownst to Asuka, Juta has another reason for hanging around. He’s actually Jewel Sachihana, the mangaka behind Asuka’s favorite shojo manga series, Love Chick, and Asuka is the model for his heroine, as no one else embodies true femininity so well.

One of best things about this subplot is that pages from Love Chick work their way into the story, and you can see how well Kanno emulates that generic shojo art style. Also, as events unfold, it becomes clear that Juta is using incidents from Asuka’s life in his manga, even nudging him into action a few times in order to get new material, and that the male love interest looks exactly like a boy version of Ryo. Asuka remains clueless so far, only mentioning that he “surprisingly identifies with it a lot.”

In addition to the glimpses of Love Chick, there are plenty of other amusing things in Otomen. My favorites include the panel where Asuka, after binging on girly items, thinks “I’ve got to control myself” then looks down to see he has unconsciously completed a teddy bear; the scenes in which Asuka and Ryo both declare their intentions to protect the other, complete with flowery background (an image later replicated in Love Chick); and the part where Asuka purposefully leaves a volume of Love Chick lying around in the path of a heartbroken guy, who proceeds to go all sparkly over it.

Lastly, I’m really enjoying the male perspective. While a male protagonist is by no means rare in shojo, you’ll usually find them in science fiction or fantasy works and not in a high school romance. Asuka’s not your average guy, of course, but neither is he simply a typical shojo heroine in male disguise.

With its quirky characters and comedic approach, Otomen promises to be a lot of fun.

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

Heaven’s Will

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By Satoru Takamiya
Viz, 200 pp.
Rating: Teen

The only things that terrify schoolgirl Mikuzu Sudou more than boys are ghosts and monsters (also known as oni). This is an unfortunate fact, since they are especially drawn to her and, unlike most humans, she can see them. Fortunately, she meets up with Seto, a cross-dressing exorcist with a deep appreciation for cake, and his companion, Kagari, a vampire who can transform into a wolf. Seto provides protection from the monsters, Mikuzu provides the cake, and a winning team is born! Things are never as simple as that, of course, and as the three work together as exorcists-for-hire, we learn more about the individual challenges and frailties that complicate the relationships between them.

The first chapter of the volume was intended as a stand-alone piece, and trips along quite lightly for a story about monsters. As the volume continues, however, things get serious fast. As it turns out, Seto dresses like a girl in memory of his sister, who was the real exorcist of the family. She died saving him from oni, and it is Seto’s intention to earn enough money to have a sex-change operation, after which he will find a way to transfer her soul into his living body, resurrecting her and ending his own existence. Kagari, who has been too long miserable in the loneliness of immortality, is devoted to Seto because he has promised to exorcize Kagari’s soul (effectively killing him) before he kills himself. Mikuzu, who is terrified of men, is able to work comfortably alongside Seto because he has the non-threatening appearance of a cute girl. She even falls in love with him, so of course she wants to keep him in this world as long as possible, which means she must work against his plans. All of this is complicated by the fact that Mikuzu is the only one who is able to communicate with the spirit of Seto’s dead sister.

The tale Satoru Takamiya has woven is complex, very poignant, and has no hope whatsoever of working successfully as a single volume. The plot as it stands makes very little sense. There are interesting (if not wholly original) ideas, but without exception, the execution is rushed, clumsy, and generally muddled. Nothing is resolved in a satisfying way, and everyone’s stories are left woefully unfinished. Yet despite the clunky storytelling, the characters’ personal journeys and their relationships with each other are maddeningly compelling. Takamiya’s ideas are far too ambitious for the time and space alloted (possibly also for her current level of skill), and she frequently loses the thread while trying to pull it together, but at the core of it all there is that deep, shining honesty that is the seed of all powerful fiction.

The art in Heaven’s Will is simple, yet expressive. The character’s facial expressions are extremely nuanced, allowing them to move from emotion to emotion with an unexpected genuineness and fluidity, the result of which can be quite moving. Seto’s look of embarrassment when he admits he likes cake, for example, provides a surprising glimpse of vulnerability in his character early on, without being at all melodramatic or cloying.

Although Heaven’s Will is deeply flawed, and not something that can be wholeheartedly recommended, there is much promise there of better things to come.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.

Find of the day!

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Thanks to Lori Henderson at Manga Xanadu, I have discovered the wonderful world of Mangatude, where people swap volumes of manga they don’t want for volumes that they do. With my tight budget these days this is a godsend, and I’m sure I’m not the only one in that boat right now. I’ve signed up, and already have a trade in the works!

Of course, as wonderful a find as this is, I’m thinking about how it affects the industry for us to be trading books instead of buying new ones on our own. Right now, I’ve justified it in that my budget is pretty inflexible, and I wasn’t going to be spending more anyway, so better to be maintaining my interest in series that I eventually *will* buy more volumes of. Better, too, that books I don’t need (like our accidental duplicate copy of Fullmetal Alchemist vol. 8) will find their way into grateful hands. It’s made me think a lot also about what series I *really* want, and what I’d be willing to give up in order to get something I want more.

I don’t have a lot for trade right now (and half of what I did have is already gone), but I’m sure that will grow as time goes on. In any case, I’m passing the info along in the event that I’m not actually the last person to know about this. :)

Princess Ai: The Prism of Midnight Dawn, Vol. 1

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Princess Ai: The Prism of Midnight Dawn, Vol. 1
Created by Courtney Love & Stuart “D.J. Milky” Levy
Story by Stuart “D.J. Milky” Levy
Written by Christine Boylan, Art by Misaho Kujiradou
TOKYOPOP, 192 pp.
Rating: OT (16+)

Set after the original Princess Ai series, this story begins back in Ai-land, where Princess Ai is performing in a “prism-cast” concert, simulcast to both Ai-land and Earth, thanks to the power of the magical and mysterious “Prism of Midnight Dawn.” Unfortunately, as the concert begins, the prism (along with prophet Sir Edwin See) is stolen away from Ai-land by a huge vulture, presumably taken to the other side. Princess Ai uses a second prism to transport herself and her bodyguards, the three Furies, back to Earth to rescue Sir Edwin and return the Prism of Midnight Dawn to Ai-land. All is not well on Earth, and Ai soon discovers that much of the population has become addicted to a substance called “Tank,” including her old flame, Kent Kawa Scott.

Like many sequels, Princess Ai: The Prism of Midnight Dawn feels more like merchandising than fiction. The plot and dialogue move along predictably in this first volume. There are a few moments that could be dramatic, if only they were a bit more hard-won. Kent too easily throws aside his Tank addiction in order to make a televised plea to recapture Ai’s heart, and Ai is quickly lured into a trap, leaving her captive at the end of the volume.

The volume contains onstage performances by both Ai and Kent’s band, The Rebel Paupers, but unlike in Ai Yazawa’s NANA, where music provides the soul of the story, here it works as a clunky plot device, with too much time being spent on watery lyrics like, “How far away is never, How soon yesterday. Tomorrow waits forever, And ever three more days.” That said, probably the most enjoyable piece of this volume is the attached Ai-Tunes CD, which offers up songs from various artists such as Skye (who provided the voice of Ai on TOKYOPOP’s Princess Ai Soundtrack) and California bands Divine Madness and Intercept.

Princess Ai: The Prism of Midnight Dawn‘s first volume is prettily packaged and presented, with attractive art and fashions, and may offer fans of the original series more of what drew them there in the first place. On its own, however, it lacks any real drama or substance to bring in new readers.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.