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Infinite Dendrogram: After the Storm, and Before the Storm

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By Sakon Kaidou and Taiki. Released in Japan by Hobby Japan. Released in North America by J-Novel Club. Translated by Andrew Hodgson.

We’re taking a bit of a break from the main plot here, as we get what Dendrogram had not yet had to date: a short story collection. It’s bookended by various aftermath stories involving Ray and the past couple of books. Ray starts college properly and deals with the hurricane that is Tsukuyo, and also cleans up after the crisis in Quartierlatin. Both of these things involve B3, though the latter is somewhat more amusing as it reinforces the cluelessness of Ray as a harem lead. It’s not entirely amusing, though, as we’re reminded of another reason that Azurite hates Masters, and it goes all the way back to the first couple of books. There’s also some suggestion of future plot points, as a technical master – who we’ve met before, in a different context – finds something that might actually help the beleaguered kingdom out for once. But for the most part this book is about the short stories, which, as you might imagine, vary in quality. That said, there are no real duds in here.

The first story gives us a description of what life is like in one of the other countries, this one essentially based on Edo Japan, meaning there is no peace, just all fighting and alliances shifting all the time. A group of rather sad villains try to take advantage of this, and are humiliated. This bookends nicely with the final story of the book, in which we see more about life in the gaol, featuring Gerbera, who we’d met before but is busy sitting around the coffeeshop within it and being bitter. This is a fun story, partly as the King of Crime is basically another of those really calm, placid guys who is secretly unkillable and also because Gerbera’s POV is fun, especially her broken sense of her own power. Less successful were stories about Logan, the villain from the last two books, which is actually successful in a plot way but I also sort of hate “villain recruits villains” stories, and a Valentine’s Day story that is about a very very spurned woman beating up people in love, and is funny if you like that sort of character.

The best story in the book is also the longest, as usually seems to be the case with short story volumes. It’s mostly from the POV of Hugo, who is looking for new experiences and so heads off to a desert casino sort of country currently run by the not-Chinese not-mafia. Now that we know the actual identities of Hugo and Franklin, we can really get into Hugo’s head a lot more (it also means we get more of Cyco, who is awesome). The new character we meet here is AR-I-CA, who is so over the top that for a moment I thought the revelation would be that she’s Ray and Shu’s oft-mentioned but never seen older sister, That doesn’t seem to be the case, but she’s certainly a lot of fun – and also actively bisexual, something you don’t normally see in a light novel, or at least not this blatantly. This story also has hits of future plot, but it’s also a hell of a lot of fun.

It will be even longer till we get back to the main action, apparently, as the 11th volume will be a prequel taking place before Ray joined. Still, this should tide over Dendrogram fans nicely as they wait for the upcoming anime.

Ao Haru Ride Vol 7

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Ao Haru Ride Volume 7 by Io Sakisaka

With both Shortcake Cake and Ao Haru Ride coming out at the same time, it feels like the Shojo Beat imprint is going full steam ahead with romance manga that is a bit more introspective than usual. I’m finding all the interior soliloquies more diverting than usual in this series. Is there any kind of tension worse than seeing the slowly moving train wreck of someone making the wrong decision for seemingly noble reasons? It is pretty clear that Kou likes Futuba, and yet his traumatic past and issues dealing with his own grief have led him to willingly step into the role of quasi boyfriend for Narumi, who is surely having her own issues but is also spinning them in order to ensnare Kou into a closer relationship.

Futuba is avoiding Kou and falling back into her overly boisterous behavior, but Kikuchi keeps showing up to talk with her, despite some hilarious glaring from Yuri whenever she is at Narumi’s side. The attempt to put distance between Futuba and Kou utterly fails when Mr. Tanaka sends her over to check on Kou when he is sick. Futuba decides to confront Narumi about her and Kou’s weird co-dependent relationship that has them both stewing in grief, and Narumi promptly admits her tactics and then turns things back around on Futuba by accusing her of being selfish herself for intervening. This of course sends Futuba into another bout of introspection where she questions her own motivations. The forbidden attraction between Mr. Tanaka and Shuko almost spills over into a genuine incident at the school, but Ao Haru Ride tends to keep moving forward through plot twists while preserving the points of tension with the character relationships that keep the larger story suspenseful. The exploration of grief contrasted with the romantic foibles of teenage characters continues to make this series a compelling read.

Sword Art Online, Vol. 17: Alicization Awakening

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By Reki Kawahara and abec. Released in Japan by Dengeki Bunko. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Stephen Paul.

I’m not sure why it is that odd volumes of SAO seem to be irritating me so much. It could simply be because I’m rather weary of this arc, which is an excellent reminder to authors about why you should not make your story arc ten volumes long. It could also be because, once again, this series cried out for authorial and editorial intervention and did not get it. I know that one of the reasons that publishers are so happy to pick up Japanese webnovels and turn them into light novels is that they know the work is already written to a large degree, so deadlines aren’t a thing. But this is about the 4th book or so where Kawahara has written in the afterword “I sort of cringe at what I wrote here, but decided not to change it”. Not sexual assault this time – although that’s in here as well – but the feelings between Japan, China and Korea, which is, like a great deal of SAO proper, an interesting plot point that is handled somewhat hamhandedly.

That’s Leafa and Sinon on the cover with comatose Kirito behind them, and good news for fans of one of those characters, they do get some really good scenes. Of the non-Asuna female characters that Kawahara has created, Sinon is the closest he’s had to another success, and I really liked her here, despite the fact that she deals with Gabriel Miller at his most “I am eeeeeeeeevil!” self. He also turns out to be known to her from GGO, and her battle is probably the action highlight of the book. As for Leafa, it’s almost comical in how badly she’s been treated since… well, her introduction? Here she comes down nowhere near the other characters, gets another egregious sexual assault scene (it’s even framed as ‘worms’ and ‘tentacles’, just to make it more obvious), and finally arrives too late to really affect anything for the ending “darkest before the dawn” climax. I just get so frustrated when I read Leafa’s character.

Other things, some good, some bad. Lisbeth’s discussion of how the SAO survivors are treated in school, as ticking timebombs who are required to get therapy (and, I suspect, will need to get SAO-related jobs or not get hired after graduation, similar to what Kirito is doing now) is really really interesting and therefore I wish we’d had any indication of it at all before this. There’s another traitor towards the end of the book, tied in to both the Administrator plotline and going back to the Fairy Dance plotline who is yet another “I am written to be as evil, creepy and misogynist as possible so you don’t like me”, which, y’know, objective obtained, but you already have Gabriel. On the bright side, the ongoing “what defines a real human” plotline is reasonably well handled, and we’ll see him handle it even better in the Progressive series. And, much as I am completely sick of Laughing Coffin, it is nice to have an antagonist who is not driven by lust, just love of death and cruelty. Welcome back, PoH, I look forward to seeing you get yours eventually.

I was expecting, given the title, the book would end with Kirito back in action. I was wrong, though it looks like it’ll happen early in the next book. Which will be the last in this arc, thank God. Till then, you have to read this if you follow the series, but be ready to lose more of that tooth enamel.

A Few Thoughts About Stranger Things

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Over the course of three seasons, Stranger Things has devolved from an engaging period piece to a Potemkin village whose neon surfaces, vintage movie posters, garish fashions, and spiral perms have displaced the heart, humor, and horror that made the first two seasons so compelling. The proof lies in the media’s response to the current season, as the New York Times and Vulture have breathlessly cataloged every cereal box and song cue that link Stranger Things to The Goonies and The Neverending Story. In choosing to fetishize the material and pop culture of 1980s, however, the Duffer brothers have neglected the capable team of actors who’ve been selling audiences on the idea that Hawkins is the epicenter of an inter-dimensional catastrophe, lavishing their creative energies instead on recreating that most 80s of artifacts: the mall.

Don’t get me wrong: the idea of a shopping mall concealing a portal to the Upside Down has subversive potential, but the Duffers are too invested in making sure that everything looks right to care whether their story has anything new or meaningful to say about Reagan-era consumer culture. We’re treated to numerous tracking shots of the mall itself, with the camera lovingly documenting the stores, food court, and movie theater as teenagers shop to the sounds of Madonna’s “Material Girl.” Perhaps most tellingly, the characters never really look like they’re at the mall; these scenes look like an 80s sitcom’s idea of what hanging out at the mall was like, right down to the cartoonish portrayal of teenage mating rituals and clique behavior.

Adding insult to injury is the poor writing. Most of the problems lie with the scriptwriters’ decision to lean into the angrier, more compulsive side of Hopper’s personality, with little thought of how his behavior might appear to audiences. Hopper bullies Mike, for example, rather than examining his own feelings about Mike and Eleven dating. These scenes are played for laughs—dads always want to “kill” their daughters’ boyfriends, right?—but the intensity of Hopper’s anger makes these scenes uncomfortable to watch. If anything, his anger is a potent reminder of season two’s biggest flaw: the unexamined way in which Hopper’s desperate, violent attempts to keep Eleven safe crossed a line between loving concern and possessiveness. (Yes, Hopper and Eleven’s relationship was even more egregious than the much-maligned Punk Rockers episode.)

The once poignant dynamic between Joyce and Hopper has also curdled into something sourly antagonistic. Though their first heart-to-heart conversation in Melvald’s is moving, conveying both Hopper’s insecurities and Joyce’s ambivalence towards Hopper as a romantic prospect, the relationship goes downhill from there. Hopper behaves like a boor when Joyce stands him up for a dinner date, even though Hopper had repeatedly stressed that he wasn’t asking her out. That scene might have played better if we were encouraged to see Hopper as entitled or insensitive, but instead Joyce becomes the villain in this scenario, a scatterbrain who’s so obsessed with proving that something awful is happening in Hawkins that she’d rather chat about magnets with a high school science teacher than split a bottle of Chianti with Hopper. The script then puts Hopper and Joyce in a strenuously unfunny holding pattern as they bicker in a manner that’s supposed to show how much they’re secretly attracted to one another. Ryder, whose fierce intensity was an asset in seasons one and two, is particularly unsuited to this kind of banter, overselling every comeback with too much mugging. Worse still, the dialogue is so flat that it barely registers as amusing, let alone flirtatious.

Perhaps the biggest failing of season three, however, are the monsters. Though there’s a genuine ick factor to the Mind Flayer’s new form, it looks too much like raspberry Jello-O to be the stuff of nightmares; only a gruesome scene in which hordes of rats spontaneously explode registers as horrific. Other potentially scary moments–Nancy confronting the Mind Flayer in a hospital ward, Billy being dragged into the Flayer’s den–are too self-consciously derivative of Alien to make much of impression on viewers familiar with the Duffers’ favorite pop-cultural touchstones. As a result, season three lacks a single scene that’s as unnerving as Barb’s disappearance, or as harrowing as Eleven’s visits to the astral plane, two of the defining moments of season one.

There are a few bright spots, thanks to the Duffers’ generous treatment of the supporting characters. Steve and Robin’s friendship, forged through insults and amateur sleuthing, adds some screwball zest to the proceedings, demonstrating Joe Keery and Maya Hawkins’ potential as romantic comedy leads; their scenes crackle with the kind of wit and energy that’s sorely missing from Hopper and Joyce’s ill-fated courtship. Noah Schapp continues to impress as Will, bringing soulful presence to a character who’s often pushed to the margins of his own story. As his friends pair off in season three, Schapp makes us feel Will’s contempt for Mike, Dustin, and Lucas, who’ve traded Dungeons & Dragons for trips to the mall and awkward dates; Schapp’s facial and body language capture his frustration and shame at being relegated to the status of uncool friend.

Alas, little else in season three of Stranger Things feels as honest or scary as Will’s dilemma. Most of season three registers as 80s fanservice with its on-the-nose needle drops and acid-washed fashion, with little sense of what it was actually like to be alive in the Reagan years. Unless the writing team figures out how to bring back the suspense and humor that made seasons one and two so irresistible, Stranger Things will continue to feel more like Goonies cosplay than a horror story that just happens to take place in the 1980s. Not recommended.

Seasons one through three of Stranger Things can be streamed on Netflix.

The World’s Strongest Rearguard: Labyrinth Country’s Novice Seeker, Vol. 1

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By Tôwa and Huuka Kazabana. Released in Japan as “Sekai Saikyou no Kouei: Meikyuukoku no Shinjin Tansakusha” by Kadokawa Books. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Jordan Taylor.

I’ve talked before about the times when I read a bad book and people ask me “is it bad in an MST3K way?” and I have to tell them no, it is bad in a bad way. However, we may finally have a winner. The World’s Strongest Rearguard is sort of what happens if you tell an author all the pitfalls they should avoid when writing a Japanese light novel, only he mishears you and uses them as must haves. It is a gloriously over the top power fantasy starring a hero who is so beige he verges on see-through, a harem of adoring women, and his magical job, which we’re assured is super perfect though it’s never quite made clear why he’s the only one who’s ever done this. It should be like dragging yourself across broken glass, but… it’s very readable and guileless. There are tons of “game stat” battles, which I will never ever enjoy, but aside from that, this is some of the finer trash I’ve seen in a light novel.

Arihito Atobe is a corporate wageslave who’s too good at his job, so he’s overworked by his manager – who’s also younger than him. And super hot. On their way to a corporate event, along with various other folks, their bus crashes and they are killed. Reincarnated in a world filled with labyrinths where you need to seek and defeat monsters to be able to have a place to sleep at night, Arihito is forced to choose a class – Rogue, Vakyrie, Shrine Maiden, etc. Getting an explanation from the guild receptionist, he chooses “Rearguard”, a far too general classification that is nevertheless accepted. Now he discovers that while he’s not good at attacking on his own, with the right party, he can provide fantastic buffs, restore vitality, and improve morale. But who would possibly form a party with a man such as himself? Oh, right, everyone.

I’m not even sure where to begin, so let’s start with the other cast. Kyouka, the Valkyrie, is his former boss, who apparently left her tsun back in Japan when she reincarnated and ends up all dere. The author says in the afterword that the webnovel version was too mean, so he toned her way down. I think he overdid it. She’s had a crush on him for ages. Theresia is a lizard woman… not what you (or Arihito) is thinking, it’s almost a costume. She looks like a small Japanese woman put on her robe and lizard hat. She’s a demi-human who was defeated in the dungeons by a lizard monster and so became this, and is also mute. Now she works as a mercenary, and Arihito (presumably) is the first to treat her with kindness. (Actually, this is one of the book’s few clever ideas, and I like how it avoided just making her a slave like other books would.)

Elitia is a Level 8 swordswoman who’s been here a while, but everyone avoids her due to her cursed sword. Suzuna is a sweet and mellow shrine maiden, and Misaki is her friend (they were on the bus together) who is the classic genki girl who lives for the moment and tends to get in trouble because of this. She’s a Gambler. Finally we have Louisa, the guildwoman, who is boggled by the fact that Arihito’s generic “rearguard” job was accepted and that his party keeps defeating stronger and stronger monsters. Every single one of them falls for Arihito almost immediately, and all seem to have issues accepting any sort of compliment, so any time a battle is won there’s a round of “it was all thanks to you”, “no, it was really your win”, etc. They think Arihito is their leader and let him make all the decisions. Oh yes, and he also exudes some sort of magic that, when asleep and behind them, makes them aroused. Nothing explicit happens. Yet.

As you can see, this is absolutely bonkers. It should be terrible beyond belief. It sort of is? Arihito has the personality of lint, and I started to refer to him as Huckleberry Hound due to his blase reaction to everything (he also seems to spend the entire book in his suit and tie), but let’s face it, if he had a personality this would be unreadable. The “reincarnation” aspect of the book reads like a job fair, with everyone keeping all their memories and appearance, they’re just shifted to this new world, which is explicitly designed to be “game world”. The sheer amount of rewards he gets for everything made me giggle. By the end of the book he’s found the secret level that no one else knows of and awakened a sleeping God (who, of course, is a naked robot sort of god) who vows to give her support from afar… though even SHE has severe self-hatred issues and is over the moon when Arihito and his party say they want to work with her. And there are a few plotlines that clearly are being introduced for further books (Elitia, Louisa and Theresia’s backstories, the “other gods”, why Arihito’s job works the way it does), so things are not going to get less extra.

So, again: this isn’t a good book. But, coming at it from the right angle, it’s a fun book. You won’t want to throw it away in disgust. Just read it as if Joel and the Bots were at the bottom of the page making comments, and you can’t go wrong. I can’t wait for Book 2.

Cats of the Louvre

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Weird. Uncanny. Melancholy. Beautiful. Those were just a few of the adjectives I jotted down while reading Taiyo Matsumoto’s Cats of the Louvre, the latest volume in the museum’s ongoing graphic novel series. Like Nicholas De Crécy’s Glacial Period and Jiro Taniguchi’s Guardians of the Louvre, Cats of the Louvre is less an illustrated guide to the museum than a story that happens to take place within its walls—in this case, the attic, where a colony of cats have taken up residence. Through a series of eighteen vignettes, Matsumoto gradually reveals that the cats’ primary caretaker—an elderly night watchman—has dedicated his life to searching the museum for his missing sister, who disappeared into one of the paintings when she was a child.

The key to finding Arrieta turns out to be Snowbébé, a kitten who frequently escapes from the attic to roam the galleries, hiding inside canvases to avoid detection. Snowbébé’s gift is both an essential plot point and an opportunity for Matsumoto to luxuriate in the smaller details of his favorite paintings, as is evident in a lovely, strange sequence that unfolds inside Henri Lerambert’s The Funeral Procession of Love (1580). From a modern viewer’s standpoint, Lerambert’s painting seems a little kitschy, with its parade of cherubs, poets, and philosophers strolling under the watchful eye of the goddess Diana:

Once Snowbébé steps into the painting, however, the landscape comes to life in unexpected ways: the flowers grin, the animals speak, and the laws of gravity disappear. In one brief but delightful sequence, for example, Snowbébé and Arrieta cavort across the ceilings and walls of a temple, while in another they board Diana’s chariot for a ride through the Milky Way. Yet for all the joyful (and weird) imagery, there’s a wistful quality to these two chapters, as Snowbébé slowly realizes that he cannot remain inside the Parade forever; his presence has disturbed the painting’s equilibrium, bringing storm clouds and disrupting the flow of time itself, forcing him to choose between staying with his new friend, or returning to the “cold and smelly and noisy” world of the Louvre.

What prevents Snowbébé’s odyssey from seeming twee or precious is Matsumoto’s studied primitivism; his characters’ mask-like faces, oddly proportioned bodies, and grotesque smiles are genuinely unnerving, creating a surreal atmosphere in which the boundaries between reality and imagination are blurred. Nowhere is this tendency more obvious than in the way he draws Snowbébé and his friends: the cats look like animals to their caretakers, but assume a humanoid form when interacting with each other. In Matsumoto’s hands, they look more like people in cat costumes than pussycats, with their essential feline features—ears, whiskers, tails, elongated limbs—rendered in an exaggerated fashion that gives them a faintly alien appearance.

Matsumoto’s depiction of the Louvre is more straightforward, recreating iconic works with fidelity to the originals, whether he’s drawing a lesser-known genre painting or a genuinely famous sculpture. His rendition of the physical environment—the claustrophobic, dusty garret where the cats live, the grand staircases and hallways that lead to the galleries—is similarly precise, helping the reader envision the sheer size and opulence of the museum. As a result, the Louvre transcends its basic function as a setting, taking on the qualities of a living, breathing organism whose vaulted ceilings and majestic columns invite comparisons with dinosaurs or whales:

And while all the comics in the Louvre Collection have done an admirable job of depicting the museum, Cats of the Louvre approaches its subject matter without didacticism or pedantry; though Matsumoto’s human characters express strong feelings about art, those conversations spring organically from the story. Equally important, Cats of the Louvre has its own personality; unlike Hirohiko Araki’s Rohan at the Louvre, which recycled ideas and characters from JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, Matsumoto’s story stands on its own, capturing his unique response to the museum and its collection. But the best reason to read Cats of the Louvre is its hero Snowbébé, whose quest to find his place in the world invites us to see the Louvre through fresh eyes, as a place of danger and sadness, but also of wonder, magic, and possibility. Recommended.

A review copy was provided by VIZ Media. To read a short preview, click here.

CATS OF THE LOUVRE • STORY AND ART BY TAIYO MATSUMOTO • TRANSLATED BY MICHAEL ARIAS • RATING: TEEN • 432 pp.

Outbreak Company, Vol. 11

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By Ichiro Sakaki and Yuugen. Released in Japan by Kodansha. Released in North America by J-Novel Club. Translated by Kevin Steinbach.

This volume is still short, but a bit longer than the 10th book. That said, I’m still struggling to find 500+ words to say about it. The series is good, I enjoy it, but it’s not really trying for anything other than “be entertaining” with a small side of “treat all people equally”. It doesn’t help that this book is an expanded short story, blown up to book format when the author realized he didn’t have the room. The thrust of the plot is that Amatena, Elvia’s cold, paranoid sister, and Clara, who held him captive while he was kidnapped, are on the run from the authorities of their nation, who have decided that they’re a liability – possibly as they’ve been passively helping Shinichi smuggle anime and manga into the country. Elvia helps them hole up at the mansion, but they have to hide themselves. This leads to an extra maid (which stresses Myusel out, though not for the reason you might think) and an extra (disguised) Elvia. Hijinks ensue.

There’s a subplot in the book of Shinichi’s class getting a hold of digital cameras, and Shinichi and a very grumpy Hikaru end up having to teach them that it’s not OK to just take pictures of everyone all the time – you need permission, and sneak shots are right out. This is a good reminder that a lot of the “lessons learned”, heavy-handed as they can be, are as much for any young readers the series might have as for the fantasy elves and dwarves of Outbreak Company. Consent is important, even though Shinichi frames it as “you don’t want to catch them out of character”. The other small subplot is Amatena’s cool, overly suspicious attitude is contrasting hideously with Elvia’s puppy-ish mood, something that’s more vital than you’d expect given Amatena is supposed to be pretending to be Elvia. This leads to another obvious, but still welcome lesson: if you don’t trust anyone, why should anyone trust you? You have to open up a LITTLE bit.

Meanwhile, the series’ slow-boiling romance may finally be getting somewhere, though this may all vanish by the next book. The difficulty is on both sides, as Shinichi still tends to think of himself as a “loser” that nobody could like. He’s also, despite his perversions, still relatively innocent, and Clara reminds us of how he fended her off when he was kidnapped – by pretending that if he has sex with a woman, he’ll die. On Myusel’s end, more and more people are accidentally seeing Shinichi naked, and this frustrates her though she’s not sure why. After talking things through with Clara, she may have finally realized how deep her feelings for Shinichi are, but then she’s also dealing with a poor self-image, so it’s unclear whether she’ll actually act on this – certainly Elvia’s “heat” interrupts her at the end of this book.

It was nice to be back in Eldant for this book, despite it reading very much like a padded-out short story. We may get that next time too. Still recommended for those who enjoy the series.

I Saved Too Many Girls and Caused the Apocalypse, Vol. 16

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By Namekojirushi and Nao Watanuki. Released in Japan as “Ore ga Heroine o Tasukesugite Sekai ga Little Mokushiroku!?” by Hobby Japan. Released in North America digitally by J-Novel Club. Translated by Mana Z.

The final volume of Little Apocalypse, and I’ll try to keep my general thoughts above the picture and then get into actual spoilers below it. It’s a good final volume, I was pleased. The series knows what it does best and does it. Big ol’ melee fights, lots of humor, lots of self-doubt, Rekka being Rekka – indeed, you could argue the plot of this book is Rekka being Rekka. Including Rekka being dense, which he confirms here is sometimes deliberate, but also confirms here that sometimes he really is just that dense. Also, to my relief, despite appearing on the cover at last, R does not become a “heroine” in the romantic sense. There’s explanations for previous major plot points, each of the girls gets to do at least something, even if it’s sit on the sidelines and write/direct (you can guess who I’m talking about there). Fans of the series should not really have any issues with it at all… well, OK, except maybe for one thing.

Yes, if you wanted romantic resolution, first of all, you were deluding yourself, but second of all, you will be disappointed as Rekka does not, in fact, choose anyone. Indeed, the villain of the piece, if you can call him that, is Rekka from the future, and he makes it clear that he’s saved hundreds of heroines and loves all of them. The trouble, of course, is that Rekka loves all these heroines in the earnest, hero sense of love. There is no romantic or sexual love here, and indeed beyond getting flustered occasionally when confronted with boobs, Rekka is a decidedly uninterested hero. This applies to him, to his female self (and one big drawback of the book is that we never met any of the heroes that she saved – or did she save heroines? Her sexuality is just as absent as Rekka’s). As for future Rekka, he may be an immortal vampire with cyborg arms, but at heart he’s still the same guy, which means he has the same self-doubts.

The goddesses who are the cause of all this are perhaps the least interesting part of the book – I joked that one reminded me of Aqua, but that was more the way she was initially introduced. There is an interesting idea here in that the gods literally CANNOT stop making and destroying worlds as that is their function, it’s what they do. This is what led to the surprisingly bloodless War of All, whose sole casualty that we know about (Iris’ father) is undone by the ending fight presumably making it so the war never happens. It also felt right that the one who helped our Rekka to finally defeat his future self was R, and that she did it not through caustic words and innuendo – her weapons so far – but just by giving him a big push. If only getting him to pick a girl was that easy.

And so the series is over, everything is back to where it was, and Rekka will no doubt keep saving heroines, though hopefully on a slightly smaller scale. This started out as a parody of the harem genre, but by the end it had embraced what it mocked, and I feel it’s the better for it.

Invaders of the Rokujouma!?, Vol. 25

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By Takehaya and Poco. Released in Japan as “Rokujouma no Shinryakusha!?” by Hobby Japan. Released in North America digitally by J-Novel Club. Translated by Warnis.

Well, I guess I’m going to be dealing with the villain I don’t like for a bit longer. Vandarion is mostly absent from this volume, which sees Elexis and Darkness Rainbow making their big move. It relies on trying to win Koutarou over to their side in some way, shape or form, his identity as the (seeming) Blue Knight, and appointing a Regent who an be manipulated and controlled, but is also sweet as pie and likeable. All these things happen, and yet our heroes prove to be one step ahead of the villains once more, leading to a giant battle in, of all places, a cemetery for the the finale. This despite the fact that Koutarou is minus his main weapon as using it is slowly killing Harumi, and also despite the fact that he has to abandon half his group and run off with “the smart girl” of the harem to solve things. This doesn’t go over well when he returns…

There’s a lot of very clever plotting in this volume, as Elexis’ plan depends on Koutarou being the Blue Knight, but not THE Blue Knight. He (and most everyone else) had been running on the assumption that Koutarou was a descendant or merely taking up the name. The clever bit (you can tell Kiriha was behind this) is that Koutarou reveals not only that he’s the Blue Knight, but also tells everyone about the time travel accident. This means he is the real, honest to god Blue Knight. And, thanks to the second and even more clever plot twist, which I won’t spoil as it’s so clever, he now has Forthothe completely over a barrel. As expected, this means that Elexis has no choice but to kill him NOW – they may respect each other, but Elexis is still a villain. This leads to the final battle, where Koutarou and company try to silently escape but are caught anyway.

The location of the battle is interesting, as it’s in an ancient cemetery that has some of the graves of Koutarou’s lost allies from back two thousand years ago. This means that when the chips are down, as Koutarou can’t use his cool sword, the other girls are mostly tactical rather than battle geniuses, and the arrival of the rest of the girls does not help quite as much as they would like, he manages to literally get help from ghosts of the past, rallying to save Alaia and the Blue Knight. I will admit I am not a monarchist, but seeing the fervor that everyone shows Alaia reminds the reader just what it must have been like back in the days when Kings and Queens were revered and loved. Indeed, Harumi is seriously feeling that pressure now, as she thinks that if she can’t take on Alaia’s aspect to help Koutarou, she’s worthless – something everyone tries to convince her isn’t true, but they don’t quite manage it.

We’re in the home stretch here, and it’s noted once again that there’s going to be a lot more lives lost as this fight keeps going. Will the author dare to kill off some of the harem? Probably not, but you never know. In any case, another strong volume in this series. Go support the Kickstarter and get it all in print!

How a Realist Hero Rebuilt the Kingdom, Vol. 10

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By Dojyomaru and Fuyuyuki. Released in Japan by Overlap, Inc. Released in North America digitally by J-Novel Club. Translated by Sean McCann.

Once we found out that the world of Realist Hero is one that supports polyamory, the romantic pairings started flying fast and furious. The main focus of this volume is the marriage between Souma and his five wives, and that does happen. But Souma wants to have a lot of other weddings at the same time. His reasoning is solid: he wants lots of babies now so that everyone is available later on, as he suspects soon he’ll be battling Fuuga and other higher-ups for control of the kingdom and other lands, and needs all the help he can get. As a result, he goes around resolving all the sort of romances we’ve had to date that don’t involve him. (Sometimes he doesn’t even need to get involved. Julius marries the princess we saw in Book 8, and Haruhi – sorry, Kuu – proposes to the Realist Hero equivalent of Yuki and Mikuru.) So Hal is marrying Kaede and Ruby, and may also get an elf bride in a few years as a third. The resident mad scientist is marrying her minder. And Poncho also resolves his OT3… well, no. All these marriages are resolved by women. Indeed, the core of this book is that the guys have the nominal power, but the women are the more mature ones who resolve things.

Having had Saber Red on the cover of the first book, we get Saber Lily here for the 10th. Of course, both are Liscia, but the artist has never quite managed to hide their Fate fanart origins. It seems appropriate for this book, which reads almost like a fanfic writer decided to resolve all the uncommitted pairings at once. The “make babies at once” edict also seems like a fan thing, and while there’s no sex in this book, we glide around the topic quite a bit, going from another “Excel Walter Explains It All For You” bridal meeting to Liscia explicitly telling Souma he’ll be bedding everyone one night after another right after the wedding (Aisha is first up) to Serina making sure that Poncho is eating aphrodisiac foods at their own wedding reception. I am not sure if Book 11 will be filled with babies, though. Oh yes, and in non-wedding news, the identity of a certain masked ninja is made a lot clearer.

The best story is saved for last, though, as Liscia’s mother Elisha tells her own life story, and how she discovered her horrible power and used it in order to marry the right man, set up the kingdom so that it would not end in bloodshed, and when all that failed at least send the memories of the one thing she did wrong to the Elisha of OUR world. Yes, that is a plot twist I am spoiling, but it’s brilliant, and I applaud. Elisha’s similarity to Liscia as a child was amusing, but it’s her compassion that is how we remember her. I also liked the callback to an earlier volume where Elisha tells Souma of the fate he and Liscia suffered in that world, and Souma suggests the old “they never saw the bodies” defense, which turns out o be rather relevant after all. In a book filled with sweet, sappy love stories, this one really made me grin.

If I recall, the webnovel this is based on slightly changed the title for future books, implying this is the end of Season 1. I doubt the official books will do the same, but I do expect a change of pace next time. Till then, enjoy all the weddings.

Silver Spoon, Vol. 11

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By Hiromu Arakawa. Released in Japan as “Gin no Saji” by Shogakukan, serialization ongoing in the magazine Weekly Shonen Sunday. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Amanda Haley.

As promised, we get the Valentine’s Day arc in this volume. That said, it pretty much relies on the sort of thing that I talked about in the last review: everyone is sort of pissed off watching the happy not-yet-a-couple while they themselves are single. Indeed, we even get a breakup here from one of the minor characters, and it’s pointed out that “eldest son of a farmer” is not a big plus for women looking for a man. In fact, it’s the opposite. That said, there is hope on the horizon. Hachiken successfully conveys that he wants chocolate from Mikage. Despite enormous obstacles, she manages to give it to him. And even with an immediate mood-killer, it’s not destroyed like Hachiken’s phone was in the last book. The same applies to Mikage’s grades – they aren’t great, but they’re now good enough that she can see about getting a recommendation for her college. Steady progress is important – in fact, that’s the key to this whole volume.

Everyone is moving up a grade – and in many cases, that means moving out of the dorms. Hachiken decides that he wants a place of his own, and manages to barter with his parents to get it. Less successful is his attempt to explain to his dad that he wants to start a business and would like funding. He has the ideas and the fortitude – and his father is impressed that he actually stands up for himself – but he has no real plan beyond “stuff happens”, so is coldly rejected. Fortunately, he has the sense to ask Tamako for help, as she’s the economic genius of the bunch. Hachiken’s dad is not made magically nicer here, but we do start to see why he was so frustrated at Hachiken passively doing what others wanted before, and it’s Hachiken (and Mikage!) standing up to him that means that the door is not permanently shut. That said, Hachiken’s dad is still sort of a scary ass.

I’ve made no secret of the fact that I’m not all that fond of “lovable idiot” characters like tokiwa and Ookawa. We get a lot of Ookawa in this book, as he’s finally forced to graduate (literally, they have to physically make him take the diploma) and face up to unemployment. There isn’t a job of “ruin Hachiken’s life”, sadly, which is a shame as he’s perfectly qualified for it. We also get a long, serious and heartwarming explanation of the Silver Spoon in the title from the headmaster, though again Arakawa can’t resist undercutting things by having the teacher point out it’s his “standard speech”. It still works, and by the end of the volume you get the sense that Hachiken is on the right path, using the resources of abandoned and half-finished projects that the school still has lying around for his own.

This seems to end the “Winter” arc, and the next arc, “Four Seasons”, is the final one (assuming the manga ever comes off of hiatus again). It remains essential reading for anyone who loves a great story and characters.

The Irregular at Magic High School: Steeplechase Arc

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By Tsutomu Sato and Kana Ishida. Released in Japan as “Mahouka Koukou no Rettousei” by Dengeki Bunko. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Andrew Prowse.

When you’re doing a series set in high school, and it actually moves forward in time, it can be hard to find new material for the same thing you’ve seen before. Last time on Irregular at Magic High School we saw everyone searching for new club members – again – and this time we get the second time around for their equivalent of the athletic festival, the Nine Schools Competition. So, naturally, the author decides to have things changed around at the last minute, in order to better serve the plot. Three events are different, much to Azusa’s horror, as it means they have to do a lot of last-minute planning. Why the last-minute changes? Well, it’s all part of a powerplay involving the military, the parasites from previous books, an some Chinese defectors – who we don’t actually meet in this book, but I’ve no doubt will appear soon. Not that the schools know this. Fortunately, First High has Tatsuya, who can do anything.

That said, even Tatsuya is having trouble keeping up. In addition to ferreting out the saboteurs who plan to put parasite-infected androids in the steeplechase course to maim magic students – rather cruelly, we’re told it’s OK to ruin the student’s lives and magic career as long as they aren’t killed – but he also has to do prep for all the students competing in the various events this year. At least he’s not IN the events, but it’s so exhausting that he barely even notices his sister having a mental meltdown one night and “warming his body” with her own. Fortunately for my sanity, this low point is followed by the book’s high point, as Tatsuya is about to go out and invade the Steeplechase course to take out the androids before the events, and Miyuki correctly notes that he’s about to fall over exhausted, and why does he have to do absolutely everything all the time? Miyuki works so much better as a caring little sister than as a thirsty one.

As for the rest of the book, it’s Mahouka-by-numbers, but in a series like this that’s not a bad thin. There’s lots of intrigue, and we get to see various characters show off how talented they are, including Ayako and Fumiya, who are on the cover, making this the second cover in a row starring twins. We’ve met these two before, but here they show off that they too can clean up at the competition, taking events for Fourth High and generally showing off. I also like Minami, who gets to use her all-powerful barrier, though finds that it can be a drawback when the enemy runs away and the cops show up to question her. Minami has absolutely had it with the incestual subtext, and I completely agree. And I was also amused by one event where Subaru pronounces that she will defeat Honoka and ensure that it’s not just “everyone who has Tatsuya as their engineer wins”, but forgets which series she’s in – one word of encouragement from Tatsuya and Honoka cleans up. Yes, it IS everyone who has Tatsuya wins. Please bow to him.

The usual irritations aside, this was a pretty decent Mahouka. Next up is apparently a two-part arc, which will no doubt continue to deal with China or its equivalent in this world. Worth picking up if you like really powerful stoic heroes.

Today’s Menu for the Emiya Family, Vol. 3

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By TAa, based on Fate/Stay Night by TYPE-MOON. Released in Japan as “Emiya-san Chi no Kyou no Gohan” by Kadokawa Shoten, serialization ongoing in the magazine Young Ace Up. Released in North America by Denpa Books. Translated by Ko Ransom.

This series has shown a very delicate touch when it comes to the “canon” of the Fate universe. To a fairly large degree, understanding the character interaction requires familiarity with the source, be it the game, anime, manga, whichever. There are also little “bonus” bits that reward a reader who knows things deeper than the source, but aren’t required, such as why Gilgamesh is hanging out with a bunch of little kids. That said, sometimes you actively have to ignore the original game. Emiya Family is a light, fluffy spinoff where everyone is happy and everyone cooks. When we see the backstory of how Shinji and Shirou became friends, we’re meant to think “a ha ha, what a delightful tsundere he is!”, not “what a disgusting rapist abuser”. Shinji isn’t a villain here, just a jerk who doesn’t know how to be a good friend. Maybe food will help!

Likewise, there is a story here where middle-school Sakura asks Shirou to teach her how to cook, and we see her sad dead eyes and think “poor girl, she must be having a rough time at home”. But we’re not going to ever see HOW rough a time in this manga. At the end of the chapter, we see Sakura happy and full of life, but it’s not because she’s in love with Shirou, it’s because she was saved by the power of beef stew. Emiya Family is a light-hearted slice-of-life manga, but it never forgets its purpose of food and recipes. As a result, even Caster and Shirou are getting along now, mostly as her cooking has improved enough that Kuzuki is consistently praising her now. That said, the Gilgamesh chapter comes close to just being written for fun rather than food, despite the fact that yes, there are corndog recipes here. (What would Lancer think!?)

Speaking of spinoffs, I’ve said before that the core of this “universe” is Fate/Hollow Ataraxia minus the plot, and we get a chapter here that the author basically admits is just one of Hollow’s scenes made into a manga, where Yukika (one of “those three girls”) gets a mild crush on Assassin and gets Shirou’s help in making him sakura mochi. Assassin’s incorporeal nature is not really brought up until the final panel, so it works very well as a “cute girl + stoic guy” story. There’s also a shameless fanservice chapter where the girls all go shopping because they want to see Saber in different outfits, but it’s wholesome fanservice – we the reader also want to see Saber dressed in something different. And one of the chapters was made into the first episode of the anime, which was being created at the same time, and is a must for fans of the Shirou/Saber pairing.

Unless you don’t think it’s Fate unless there are people dying (in which case, Fate/Zero is right over there), this is a must buy for fans of these characters. And try a recipe or two as well!

Kokoro Connect: Yume Random

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By Sadanatsu Anda and Shiromizakana. Released in Japan by Enterbrain. Released in North America by J-Novel Club. Translated by Molly Lee.

Oy. I’ve had several reviews of this series where I’ve talked about Taichi, how annoying he can be, and the way he and everyone else around him struggle to have him be more than just “generic visual novel protagonist”. Which means I need to find new things to say about THIS book, which finally takes all of this and turns it up to eleven, destroying Taichi so that he might be reborn. (No, that is actually what one character does.) When we finally get to that point, it’s fantastic. The setup for this book is also great. The middle second and third quarter of this book, though, while well-written and necessary, felt like I was stabbing my legs with forks constantly while reading it. I’ve mentioned I’m not a big fan of cringe comedy, and it turns out I don’t like cringe drama much either. If you have trouble watching people make bad decisions while watching the other shoe about to drop for pages on end, this will be a very difficult read.

Heartseed shows up and says that this will be the last time he messes with them (I know this isn’t true, there’s four more books after this). This time they (they being the core five, the first years are exempt) are given the ability to see other people’s hopes and dreams. This very quickly divides the group in two, with Taichi and Kiriyama being on the “we should use this to help people” side, and Inaba and Aoki being on the “we should just let this be” side, with Iori, as always, in the middle. Because they are in high school and surrounded by teenagers, most of these hopes and dreams end up being love-related, and Taichi and Kiriyama get reputations as “love gurus”. This despite the fact that Kiriyama still has not managed to tell Aoki how she really feels, and that this may be the last straw in Taichi and Inaba’s relationship. Oh yes, and everyone’s about to go on the class trip. But, most importantly, Taichi is determined to make up for the fact that he feels empty as a person by sticking to his guns on this decision, even if that turns out to be the worst thing possible.

As I said, how much you like this book depends on how tolerable you find Taichi attempting to finally realize that he needs to have his OWN hopes and dreams. His dilemma reminded me a lot of Tsubasa Hanekawa from the Monogatari series, who is verbally shredded by Senjogahara (the Inaba of that series) for not having anything she really dislikes… or, as it turns out, likes. Similarly, Taichi is so used to turning his attention to others that the mere sight of a future career survey can paralyze him. This is what leads him to decide to make a decision and stick with it, even if it’s a bad one. Fortunately, by the end of the book he seems to have come to terms with the ability to actually think about himself for once, let people deal with issues on their own, and actually tell Inaba he loves her out loud. Oh yes, Kiriyama and Aoki also get together, in a very sweet confession that spurs Taichi on, and almost makes up for another subplot involving Aoki’s family that I will gloss over as I don’t want to stab things.

It’s odd that I sound like I’m bashing this book, which is very good. You’re frustrated and angry, but in a way that makes sense for the characters and plot. I will note that if this had been stretched to two volumes, I might actually have been unable to continue. Fortunately it isn’t, and we have another short story volume next time. I need it.

The Alchemist Who Survived Now Dreams of a Quiet City Life, Vol. 1

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By Usata Nonohara and ox. Released in Japan as “Ikinokori Renkinjutsushi wa Machi de Shizuka ni Kurashitai” by Kadokawa Shoten. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Erin Husson.

It’s possible that I simply have overinflated expectations for slow life titles with a female protagonist, but I must admit that I found this book a big old grab bag of good stuff and bad stuff, with in the end the bad outweighing the good a bit. I am reminded once again that there is a roadmap these fantasy light novels follow, and much as we as readers would like them to forge a new path they are absolutely going to stay on the well-traveled road. And that means we get slavery here, along with the heroine not really caring about it (she’s not reincarnated from Japan, though, so gets a bit more of a pass). It means we get more “her breasts are huge and I am sad that mine are not” descriptions, some of which verge on the ridiculous. And it means endless, truly endless descriptions of alchemical recipes, as if this were a foodie title. Sometimes worldbuilding can be boring.

Mariela is a young, relatively poor alchemist in a city with quite a few of them, living in a cabin in the woods while waiting for her Master to return. Then there’s a monster stampede killing everyone in its path. To survive, she puts herself in suspended animation… but forgets she’s in a hole in the ground, so her candle goes out and the spell lasts for two hundred years. Now awake again, she finds that alchemy has mostly died off, and that potions are highly prized. She decides to make a new life for herself in the city, hiding her real profession but opening an apothecary so she can be as close to it as possible. With the help of Siegmund, a slave she purchased on impulse who turns out to clean up very nicely, and a bunch of friendly soldiers and innkeepers, she resolves to live her slow life in a world that, to her, is the far future.

Great premise, and it has to be said Mariela is the best thing about the title. An odd combination of savvy and stunningly naive, you can see why she tends to worry people around her. She describes herself as just your average alchemist, but it’s pretty clear her Master was a genius, and Mariela was well on her way to surpassing that. Unfortunately, her treatment of Sieg, which is basically “I bought him as a slave and order him around for everyday household tasks but like to think we are the bestest of friends!” is cringeworthy. More to the point, this volume desperately needed an editor. Not on the Western side, Yen’s version is fine, but on the Japanese side. It’s a very long book, and future volumes in the series are just as long or longer. A good half of the book is Mariela describing in detail her alchemical processes and why you need this herb or that monster ingredient. I’ve mentioned that I dislike the “stat descriptions” in game based isekai. This is a normal fantasy, but may be just as bad. A lot of these Syosetsu webnovels need to have their wordcount culled before publication.

Again, problematic as she is, I liked Mariela, and will likely try a second volume. But honestly, I recommend this for those who REALLY love immersing themselves in worldbuilding and want to know exactly what steps to take to be an alchemist.