Manga Bookshelf

Discussion, Resources, Roundtables, & Reviews

Reviews

Yona of the Dawn, Vol. 15

by

By Mizuho Kusanagi. Released in Japan as “Akatsuki no Yona” by Hakusensha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Hana to Yume. Released in North America by Viz. Translated by JN Productions, Adapted by Ysabet Reinhardt MacFarlane.

So much of this volume is magical that it’s a bit difficult to know where to begin. There are at least five or six moments that feel like they’d be voted in a “top 10 Yona of the Dawn moments” list. Even leaving Yona herself aside (and trust me, I’ll get to her in a bit), there’s so much going on here involving Riri, as we see her becoming politically active and arguing with her father that politics are all very well and good but not when it means letting your people die and kill each other just to avoid political turmoil. And she’s joined by Su-Won, undercover and wandering the world again, to the exasperation of his bodyguards, who decides to help out this righteous and well-meaning but very naive girl. Especially since everyone in the city keeps questioning every woman they find, looking for the one with the red hair.

Riri is at the beginning of a journey down a path that Yona has long trod, and she knows it too – their parting is very emotional, and there’s a reason that they’re the couple on the cover. (I’ll leave the yuri reading to others, but I will note that Ayura and Tetra are absolutely a couple.) Yona is a leader, and her resolve is what drives everyone around her. A lot of shoujo series make you wonder sometimes why there are five to six guys all in love with the heroine. Yona does not have this problem. Everyone reading it is in love with the heroine. The first thirty pages alone are stunning – Yona attempting to recover from her wounds, her desire to question the villain suddenly overcome by her desire to CUT HIM IN THE FACE when he tries to draw a blade, and her attempts at getting Hak (who is feeling upset, of course) to stop brooding by talking about how it was her choices that led to this. “These are MY injuries” is one of the most powerful lines in the volume.

Aside from the plot and characters, I’ve also grown very fond of the way that Kusanagi crafts the manga itself. Once Su-Won arrives on the scene we know that he and Yona are going to run into each other again, but the moment is put off a number of times as they keep missing each other, or Su-Won runs into Jaeha (who doesn’t know who he is), etc. This lends the moment when they finally do meet extra emphasis. And, much as this is a serious-minded volume for the most part, there is some wonderful art-derived humor involving Riri’s father, who is a parody of the “always remain calm and drink tea” sort of character, not getting upset at all when Riri is screaming out about drugs destroying their country, but when she steals his golden seal (the symbol of the clan’s authority)… well, his face is worth the price of the book in itself.

Every volume of Yona of the Dawn makes me think I’ve reached the high water mark of the series, and then it tops itself. A must read. Again.

Ran and the Gray World, Vol. 1

by

Ran and the Gray World Volume 1 by Aki Irie

Ran and the Gray World blends slice of live pacing with beautiful illustrations in this story about a girl with magical tennis shoes that transform her into a grown-up. Ran is being forced to do her chores in her cluttered home, and her older brother Rin strategically hides her shoes in a light fixture in order to get her to clean up. Ran’s homelife is just as haphazard as her room, since her mother is a powerful sorceress who has to live away from her family to deal with magical business.

Shizuka appears accompanied by a flock of birds and a profusion of flower petals, conjuring up sweets that threaten to engulf the whole neighborhood. Irie’s illustrations are wonderful at showing how things get off-kilter and out of control with such a powerful sorceress paying a visit, as Shizuka and her daughter lean up against a giant strawberry while eggs hatch into giant chickens and doughnuts threaten the roofing of the family’s near neighbors. Shizuka seems utterly unaware of the effect of her sudden appearance and disappearance on her family, and doesn’t seem to care that she’s annoying her son as she dazzles her daughter with magic.

Ran and the Gray World

Ran continues to throw on her tennis shoes and run away, with her most extended adventure involving dropping out of the sky onto the penthouse garden of playboy, who is intrigued by Ran. They remodel her guest room and have an additional random encounter at a local festival.

One aspect of the book that made me uneasy was seeing how Ran was getting placed in situations with adult men who are reacting to her as a young woman. While nothing much happens due to her magical powers, naiveté, and the vigilant actions of her older brother Jin, this is certainly something that I’d like to see minimized in further volumes. The first volume did such a great job setting up a unique magical world, though, I’m hoping that the series doesn’t turn into another Bunny Drop. Uneasiness aside, Ran and the Gray World seems like a must for low key fantasy fans. The magical world Irie creates with her illustrations is lovely, and it is shown off well by the larger volume size and deluxe treatment of the Viz Signature Edition.

ECHO

by

By Akira and Oguchi, based on the Vocaloid song by Crusher-P. Released in Japan by PHP Institute. Released in North America by J-Novel Club. Translated by Kevin Chen.

There is a certain subgenre of novels that are based on Vocaloid songs. We’ve seen a few of them over here, Kagerou Daze being the most obvious. But Kagerou Daze has sort of morphed into a franchise of which the original songs are but a part. ECHO, on the other hand, is a stand-alone novel based on the video of the same name, and after reading it it really doesn’t feel like you can separate the two works. In fact, I’d recommend tracking down the video on Youtube and watching it before reading this book – it doesn’t really spoil much beyond the girl who’s already on the cover, and it helps to make sense of some of the surreal events happening in the middle and end of the book, which quote most of the song outright. As for the book itself, in addition to fans of the original work, I’d recommend it to fans of dark horror with a mystery tinge. As for me, it was well-written, but it didn’t grab me as much as I’d have liked.

Our heroine, much as she spends much of the book denying it, is Hitomi, a teenage girl who helps her family run an electronics store. (Her last name is an aggravation to her but also a character point, so I’ll avoid it for now.) While watching the store one afternoon, she suddenly finds herself flipping through various places as if she were a TV program, finally ending up falling from quite a height into a bizarre amusement park. Fortunately, she doesn’t go splat, and runs into a few other people in the park – her childhood friend, who she’s somewhat estranged from now; the daughter of the richest family in their (very rural) town; a tall introverted girl who seems to be connected to the rich girl in some way; and an adult actor who says he was just passing through town and somehow wound up here, and seems suspicious right from the get-go. Where are they? Why can’t they remember how they got there? And what’s with the girl with six arms and a TV for a head?

The novel is written by a seasoned pro at the genre, and it shows, there’s no awkward “webnovel” prose that you’d see in some works these days. There is some striking imagery, starting with the prologue, which features a horrific sight sure to get rid of any readers who don’t like horror at all. That said, I wish I’d had more time to get to know the characters before events caught up with them. There’s also the presence of Hitomi, which doesn’t really match any of the others, and whose explanation is far from satisfying – clearly she was there because the narrator needed to be an “everygirl” and audience surrogate. She insists she’s not the sort of person to be a protagonist, which may be true of shoujo manga, but if you turn towards Japanese novels for young adults, she absolutely is. The most interesting part of the book to me was probably the real world perspective of the mother of one of the characters, who ends up being tied into the plot far more than expected.

In the end, this is a good book that does what it set out to do – craft a novel around a piece of music. Fans of the song will enjoy it. (Also, wow, what a depressing “this is what happens after you die” this novel has. Pass on that.)

We Never Learn, Vol. 1

by

By Taishi Tsutsui. Released in Japan as “Bokutachi wa Benkyou ga Dekinai” by Shueisha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Weekly Shonen Jump. Released in North America by Viz Media. Translated by Camellia Nieh.

It always feels reassuring to have a romantic comedy coming out in Shonen Jump in amongst all the friendship, training and victory. Especially coming out in North America, where Jump romantic comedies have not always had the best track record. Nisekoi was a recent hit, but it’s an outlier – To-Love-Ru and its sequel were farmed out to a different company, and does anyone remember Strawberry 100%? That said, like Nisekoi, We Never Learn seems to be falling more on the side of “romantic comedy with strong character development” rather than “romantic comedy with lots of panty shots and sexual suggestiveness”. Like, well, those other two series. As a result, it’s far more my type of series. The main characters are all types, but they’re enjoyably written and aren’t aggravating. Nisekoi fans may find Fumino a bit familiar to Onodera, but that’s no surprise, given the author wrote Nisekoi’s magical girl spinoff.

Nariyuki is a serious young man from a poor family who needs a recommendation to get into a good school. He’s an excellent student, not through innate ability but hard study. He is, sadly, not the best in his class in science and literature, thanks to two geniuses who effortlessly get the best grades. Now he is being told to tutor these two, as they each have goals that clash with their specialty – literature genius Fumino wants to study astronomy but is wretched at science, and Rizu wants to go into the arts despite being seemingly awful at understanding feelings and emotions. Things get off to a rocky start, but Nariyuki is not one to give up easily, To make matters more chaotic, Naruyuki’s friend Uruka needs to study in order to stay on the swimming team, but she’s bad at EVERYTHING. Can he get these girls to bone up on the right things and achieve their dreams? And, more importantly, fall in love with one of them?

Well, I say that, but at this point in the series love is not all that high on the agenda, which is content to introduce the main cast and have them bond as friends. The plot is very sedate with few surprises – the girls meet Naruyuki’s family, the girls each reveals secret asides to themselves, etc. One of the interesting things about the title I noticed is that there’s no “first girl” here – both main female protagonists are introduced at once, so you don’t get a sense of who the author favors. (Sorry, Uruka, you arrive three chapters late.) I suspect that Western readers will gravitate to Rizu – let’s face it, Fumino is the classic “nice girl who always comes in second” sort (see also Nisekoi) – but it’s going to be more of a surprise than these titles usually pull off. The author also has a good flair for art and facial expressions – there’s just a lot of amusing faces here, and I found myself laughing at them as much as the characters and situation.

So overall a pretty strong debut, and I can see why it was licensed. I look forward to seeing these girls make painfully slow progress in their efforts to learn outside their specialties.

Toradora!, Vol. 3

by

By Yuyuko Takemiya and Yasu. Released in Japan by Dengeki Bunko. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Jan Cash & Vincent Castaneda. Adapted by Lora Gray.

In many ways this feels like a filler volume in the series, but I think it’s actually focusing more on the main cast and how Ryuuji is able to understand them – or not, as the case may be. Ryuuji is a nice, kind person but he’s not all that good at getting “what women want”, so to speak. That applies to Taiga, who spends much of this book intensely frustrated and upset – even for her. It also applies to Ami, who has been given her depth in the last book and so is free to backslide and be the ‘evil transfer student’ everyone was fearing – or is she merely trying to aggressively flirt? And then there’s Minori, who is theoretically Ryuuji’s crush, but who he seems to try to understand the least, letting her walk through the novel being Taiga’s goofy best friend without pondering why she acts the way she does. It’s not just “I am weird”, Ryuuji. By the end of the book he hasn’t figured much out either, but the stage is at least set for the next part of the series.

The book takes place immediately after the previous one, where Ami put Ryuuji in a compromising position and is now gleefully watching the fireworks. Taiga, of course, insists she is not angry, and we know what that means. Worse, swimming classes are up next, and Taiga has to wear a swimsuit (thus showing off her childlike figure) and also swim (which she can’t). Things come to a head when Ami invites Ryuuji to her summer home over the break, so they could get to know each other better. Taiga snaps, and we’re set up for a swimming challenge – the winner essentially gets Ryuuji. You could argue Ryuuji’s biggest mistake in this book is not shutting this down before it starts, but instead, he does his best to teach Taiga to swim and try to figure out why she’s so upset – which isn’t quite the reason he thinks.

This book came out about twelve years ago in Japan, and so a lot of the things that might feel obvious to the reader were a lot fresher then. If the big drawback in this volume is that there’s very little forward movement, the plus is this allows us to see a lot of silly and/or heartwarming scenes that we might not otherwise have gotten. The cold opening at the hospital, where we worry that Ryuuji’s mother may have died but then realize the far more amusing truth, is an absolutely perfect scene. Ami too is a horrible delight, and the humiliation she goes through near the end once again feels especially deserved. But as always the main reason to love this is Taiga, who is a bundle of issues and all the more readable because of them. Her “solution” to the challenge was fantastic, if also appalling.

If I recall correctly from the manga, the next volume should be especially strong. This one isn’t a world beater, but it’s fun, especially if you like seeing Taiga blow up.

A Bride’s Story, Vol. 10

by

By Kaoru Mori. Released in Japan as “Otoyomegatari” by Enterbrain, serialization ongoing in the magazine Harta. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by William Flanagan.

After two volumes of focus on Pariya, returning to our home base couple feels very peaceful and reassuring, even if they’re not together a lot of the time. As with the previous volumes, Amir and Karluk’s story is about waiting for Karluk to get older and more mature, and the fact that they love each other regardless. Karluk is a typical teenage boy, even on the Silk Road, and therefore constantly worries that he’s not manly enough and that Amir is somehow unhappy. This is fairly ridiculous, not only because Karluk is nice and sweet and doing his best, but also because Amir is a saint who can do no wrong. (I’ve come to really love A Bride’s Story, but Amir still needs a few more flaws.) But Karkuk doesn’t see this, and so there’s only one thing for a boy on the verge of manhood to do… hunt wild animals! Good thing too, as in this day and in this place, hunting animals for food is a life or death situation.

This also allows Karluk to bond with his brother-in-law, and realize that Amir’s tribe is really in dire straits… they are poor and have very little future available to them. This is presented very matter of factly, and Karluk (and the reader) can’t really do much about it except stare into the middle distance. But at least they’re training Karluk as a hunter, and we get some gorgeous shots of the landscape and foxes, antelope, etc. that roam wild and free but also provide food and clothing for our heroes. Amir shows up every once in a while as well, though Karluk tries to make the visits less frequent, because he’s hoping this will make them long for each other even more. (Amir doesn’t quite get this, of course, because she’s fully accepted her feelings for Karluk already.) He’s a good kid, and I wonder how long it will be before they take that next step.

After their story, we are back to Mr. Smith and his guide, who are finally making their way to Ankara, where he meets up with a good friend he knew from school (and I think his name is Henry? God knows, everyone keeps calling him Smith regardless). That’s not all that follows him, however… Talas, the girl he had the not-quite-romance with several volumes ago, has gotten married but still longs for her true love, and so her husband (whose sainthood here rivals Amir) takes her to Ankara to find Mr. Smith, because he wants her to be happy. I’m not really sure I enjoyed this part as much as the author wanted me to. The story of Smith and Talas was a nice bittersweet tale of a love that wasn’t meant to be, and seeing it revived here feels a bit like a cop out. I suspect their story will take up much of the next volume.

A Bride’s Story has a few weaknesses that my head just can’t get away from, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the series and its characters. And its art, which is fantastic. Still recommended.

Invaders of the Rokujouma!?, Vol. 18

by

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.

Now that’s more like it. After being a bit disappointed with the minor villains in Kiriha’s resolution arc, we get a much higher standard of villain here. Darkness Rainbow are back, and they’re getting backstory. Not a hell of a lot, admittedly – that may be next volume, as this is sort of a stealth two-parter – but it’s clear that more care is being taken with these teenage, evil magical girls. (I’ll go with evil for now, given that they kidnapped ten small children, and if the ritual had finished they may have all ended up the way Sanae did.) This is also a continuation of Maki’s redemption arc. She may not win the big fight here, but the greater picture has her succeeding, as she’s forcing Crimson Rainbow to consider her relationship with both Maki and the rest of the Darkness Rainbow team. If there’s a way in to redeem this group, it’s likely to go via Crimson.

Given that we’re dealing with Darkness Rainbow here, it seems only natural that we finally get to see Nana, Yurika’s predecessor as a magical girl until her painful sacrifice. We find out how painful here, as we see her shakily trying to stand on crappy artificial legs, and her spirit energy is nearly nil. Fortunately, we have Koutarou’s harem, who between all of them are specialists in nearly everything, and they resolve to better Nana’s situation. In the meantime, though, kids are getting kidnapped as Darkness Rainbow makes its move – and they’re desperate, clearly, as kidnapping is not something easily papered over with memory erasure. Once it’s clear who’s behind it, Yurika asks everyone to help her save the kids and defeat the bad guys. Unfortunately, only one of these is accomplished by the end of the book, so it looks like we’re going on a field trip to the next dimension over next time.

Readers of these reviews know that I’m a huge Yurika fan, so I was pretty delighted with this book, where she spends most of her time in serious, competent mode. The joke is that everyone is really uncomfortable with Yurika being mature and competent, and wishes for the old whining Yurika to return. (This is admittedly a better joke than Shizuka’s running gag about her weight, though I liked how it became more about Koutarou being unable to princess carry her.) Yurika does an excellent job here, leading the team that discovers the bad guys, relying on others for support, and not breaking down once. The afterword hints of even better things in the next book. The rest of the cast are also good, and we’re starting to see the girls attempt to flirt harder with Koutarou, but he’s still not emotionally ready yet.

The book isn’t perfect – the battle in the hotel almost feels like there’s a chunk of the book that was randomly cut out, and the climax is similarly rushed – but overall this was a very strong entry in the series, and I really can’t wait to see what happens next.

Pez

by

By Hiroyuki Asada. Released in Japan by Wani Books, serialized in the anthology Robot. Released in North America digitally by Denpa Books. Translated by Andrew Castle.

The book is titled Pez, and I’m not sure if it’s meant to reflect what most people from my generation think of when we hear the word, which is to say the candy you got out of the package with the cartoon character head. It’s meant to suggest a light, sweet, ephemeral sort of think. And now we have the Pez manga, which is not all that light, somewhat bittersweet, and… well, OK, it does feel pretty ephemeral, as it seems to end right about where most manga would begin. But that’s fine, because this feels more like a doujinshi, the sort of high-concept original work you’d get from an artist who’s filled with creativity but also does work for Weekly shonen Jump to pay the bills a little better. It’s only 72 pages or so, but they’re all full color, which also helps to distinguish this. As for the plot? Well, it’s a post-apocalyptic slice-of-life, which is actually pretty popular these days, so it seems a good time for it to come out collected here.

Pez is the young woman on the cover, who we first see wandering around the ruins of a home in the middle of nowhere, scavenging for what she can find. She’s joined by Decosuke, who appears at first to be a young man the same age as her but it quickly becomes apparent is actually the brain that the body is carrying behind it. She’s found a old movie filmstrip, which she proceeds… to wear as a scarf, which tells you right off that this is not going to be all bleak tragedy. That said, it’s not all laughs either – Pez and Deco’s past when they were both normal kids (who appear to be living off the streets) is short but extremely painful (indeed, Pez calls this out in the actual manga). The reason they’re where they are right now is a mad scientist sort by the name of Dr. Thunder Land, who is able to revive/robotize the dead Decosuke, and also (as we find out in the final pages) gives a little something to Pez that makes her able to see a bit more than most people. (This section also involves some shots of Pwz topless, be warned.)

Most of the short volume is Pez and Decosuke walking the Earth, finding bombed-out shelters and discussing things. There’s a sweet bit where they find an old pizzeria whose chef is caught under rubble – they can’t free them from their inevitable death, but they can get instructions on how to make a delicious pizza. Sometimes it’s ridiculous, as with Pez’s imagining what sweets are like. And sometimes it’s inspirational, as the ending involves Pez and Decosuke following the “lights” in the sky and seeing where they lead so they can find out how the world got this way. They will find out, maybe, but we won’t – the book wraps up there. That said, as a one-shot it feels well worth the purchase, being made entirely of mood, and with some Wonderful sketch-like art that you’d normally only see in the likes of Ikki and similar magazines – or in the pages of the Robot anthology. It feels like a boutique manga, the sort you’d leave on your coffee table to impress the guests.

The Saga of Tanya the Evil: Dabit Deus His Quoque Finem

by

By Carlo Zen and Shinobu Shinotsuki. Released in Japan by Enterbrain. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Emily Balistrieri.

I’ve talked before about how Tanya the Evil is at many times written like you’re reading a history book. It’s actually a bit weirder than that, as you’re reading several competing history books, each with its own agenda. This is made obvious in the sections involving the Federation, aka not-USSR, whose style of Communism under “Josef” is mocked mercilessly, even to the point of having one section written as a children’s history book. The Federation in general comes in for a bashing this volume, partly because, well, Communism under Stalin, please look at real history, but also because Tanya is virulently, rabidly anti-Communist and says so most of the time. The book starts with her taking her team to “put a scare” into the Federation capital. She proceeds to overdo it. One of the more interesting bits is when she tells Visha, who escaped the Federation as a child, not to hold back her hatre3d and to go all out. Visha, who honestly doesn’t recall much of her childhood and isn’t really driven by hatred, is rather nonplussed.

It can be difficult at times to remember that Tanya is not the heroine, merely the protagonist. We’re meant to be a bit horrified by her. Quite a bit. The trouble is that most of the book is in her semi-1st person monologue, so sympathy naturally falls with her, especially when the war is not going her war, which is constantly. There’s a glorious bit when she’s on trial for some of her actions when they realize that this little girl is, in fact… acting like a petulant child. Even when she finally gets her wish of a transfer to a non-combat position, it doesn’t even last two weeks. But we’re not really meant to like ANYONE in this “war is hell” series. Not the Empire’s generals. Not the government, who are invisible but making poor decisions behind them. Not the Federation, who I would call a parody of Stalin’s Russia were it not already hard to parody. And not even the Commonwealth or the Unified States, who we see training up their own crack mage unit, complete with blonde Kansas girl Mary Sue, who unfortunately runs into Tanya in her first combat and realizes that Tanya was the one who killed her father. She doesn’t take it well.

These books continue to be bricks, far longer than almost all light novels that aren’t DanMachi. A lot of that is tactics and military discussion, and I say it again: don’t read this unless you’re fascinated by such things, because it will drive you mad. One other downside: we’re introduced in this book to “Josef” and his number two, who is named Loria. Loria is based on Lavrentiy Beria, who was a sexual predator, and it’s this aspect that Carlo Zen mines for “humor” (and also horror, to be fair), as he spots the 12-year-old Tanya (she must be twelve by now, right?) stomping all over Moscow burning everything in sight and decides that he needs to make her his. It’s as disturbing as it sounds, and it gets a color illustration that makes it much worse. Sadly, I expect to see more of him. As well as Mary Sue, who’s a talented newbie this time around but is now driven by hatred and fury, so I expect her next run-in with Tanya will be very different.

Tanya fans who only watched the anime will be happy to know this is where the new stuff begins (well, technically the end of the last book). It’s still a very interesting series to read, but remember that the author is actually a left-wing socialist. Tanya is not here to be admired. No one is, really.

Ao-chan Can’t Study!, Vols. 1-2

by

By Ren Kawahara. Released in Japan as “Midara na Ao-chan wa Benkyou ga Dekinai” by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Shonen Magazine Edge. Released in North America digitally by Kodansha Comics. Translated by Erin Proctor.

Sometimes when reading manga you are looking for a well-characterized, touching work that will heal your heart and make you think. And sometimes you’re looking for silly sex jokes. If it’s the latter you’re after, I am pleased to say that Ao-chan Can’t Study! is here for you. It’s about as subtle as a brick to the head, but why would you want to be subtle in a case like this? It’s a sex comedy. With the emphasis on the comedy, I hasten to add – there’s tons of sex talk, but don’t expect any forward progress, at least not at the start of the series. It sort of feels like Seitokai Yakuindomo to a degree (and I could write an entire POST about why Kodansha Comics never licensed that, complete with them indirectly dissing it when they picked up Aho-Girl). Despite all that, though, things still remain on the innocent side here, adn the kids read like normal romance comedy heroes and heroines and not perverts. Well, mostly.

Ao-chan has had difficulties with her childhood almost from the start, when she introduced herself to the elementary school class as Ao, “A as in apple and O as in orgy”. We find out why fairly quickly – her father is a famous author of erotic novels, and also the equivalent of Happosai from Ranma 1/2 (he even looks like him), and despite her best efforts, Ao is now in high school and has a mind that quickly turns filthy at the slightest provocation. Not that she has any experience or anything, but just being around her father has sort of led her to be a pervert by osmosis. She tries to repress this by being a stoic ice queen, with perfect grades and no interest in men. Sadly, she has piqued the interest of Takumi, the class’ resident hot guy, who doesn’t study very well but finds Ao interesting. She attempts to drive him off, but her dad has decided now is the time to get his daughter laid. What’s more, Takumi’s feelings appear to be genuine. And worst of all, there’s a rumor going around that he is… well, larger than average.

Shonen Magazine Edge tends to push boundaries a bit, and despite being clean at heart, so does this title. There’s Lots of discussion of penis size and how it can actually hurt for a woman when a guy’s too big. In the second volume, when the class goes to summer camp, Ao somehow gets it into her head that she’s going to be invited to a “fuck party”. As I said, things you wouldn’t normally see in Fairy Tail (UQ Holder, maybe), and you can see why it’s a digital-only series. The reason it avoids being pure skeeze is Ao, who is pretty innocent – she has no idea what a dick really looks like, and most everything that she gets in her head is either exaggerated or wrong. Plus she’s falling for Takumi too, and has no idea how to deal with her feelings – and her libido. Add in a rival or two, and you’ve got a fun if ecchi comedy, recommended for those who don’t mind that sort of thing.

I Want to Eat Your Pancreas

by

By Yoru Sumino. Released in Japan as “Kimi no Suizō o Tabetai” by Futabasha. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Nathan Collins.

The book spoils you on page 1, so allow me to do the same: the heroine does not survive the book. That is in fact, the point of the book, which is a novel rather than a light novel, and has its feet planted firmly on the ground. Despite the title, this is not about zombies or anything like that. Sakura, the heroine, has something wrong with her pancreas, to the point that she has a year to live at most. Our hero, whose name remains deliberately obscured for most of the book, accidentally finds out about this (they’re classmates, but she’s only told her family and is hiding it from everyone else) and the bulk of the book is the two of them gradually getting closer and hanging out. They’re not quite falling in love (I suspect were it not for her illness they’d get together much faster, even with the hero’s personality issues), but most of the prose till near the end consists of either school or “dates”.

The handling of the hero’s name is quite interesting, if a bit aggravating at first. He’s defined by how others think of him – for most of the first half Sakura (who he also avoids naming, so her name also rarely comes up) refers to him as “Classmate I Get Along With-kun”. but this changes depending on circumstances, and other people like classmates also address him this way. It ties into the book that Sakura is writing, called Living with Dying, and while the text of this novel isn’t that book, it does sort of follows the rules of said book, which also avoids using him name. Speaking of the hero, he is a loner and something of an outcast – always reading, self-proclaimed with no friends, but very perceptive in a negative sort of way. Of course, he’s not as perceptive when it comes to emotions, and one of the highlights of the book is a fight that he and Sakura have over a misunderstanding.

Again, I will try not to spoil too much, but there is a definite sense that the book is going to end the way you’d expect (I mean, it begins with her funeral, which our hero does not attend), but the book has a few surprises in its last quarter or so. The surprise might upset a few readers – it’s foreshadowed, but not by much. That said, it’s mentioned that “real life doesn’t work like an novel”, and you get the feeling that the way things played out was the author’s way of avoiding things simply being too predictable. I also felt the epilogue, which jumps forward in time and avoids showing us two characters’ growth more than I like, was a bit abrupt, but that’s likely because the payoff of everything right after Sakura’s death was the best part of the book, and very emotionally raw.

This is not, for most of the time, a depressing tragedy of a book. I tweeted that it felt like a darker Teasing Master Takagi-san, and given that Sakura spends most of the time imposing demands on our nameless hero’s time, there’s a lot of Haruhi Suzumiya here as well. It’s a touching story of two people who have a deep and affecting impact on each other’s lives over the course of only a few months. I really, really enjoyed it.

Do You Love Your Mom and Her Two-Hit Multi-Target Attacks?, Vol. 1

by

By Dachima Inaka and Iida Pochi. Released in Japan as “Tsujo Kogeki ga Zentai Kogeki de Ni-kai Kogeki no Okasan wa Suki desu ka?” by Fujimi Shobo. Released in North America digitally by Yen On. Translated by Andrew Cunningham.

This book is straight up ridiculous. I realize that may be the most obvious thing to say, but I want to say it up front because I went into it thinking that the ridiculous content would take a back seat to sketchy mom-son sex humor. And there is a bit of that, but mostly the comedy is first and foremost the important thing here. This series is not trying to titillate its reader, it’s going for fun. And it pretty much succeeds. We get a lot of amusing riffs on the standard “adventure game” tropes, the characters are all obvious cliches but fairly likeable. Best of all, despite the occasional lewd joke or ogling, there’s absolutely no sense that Mamako (yes, really, that’s her name) and Masato view themselves as anything other than mother and son. This allows the reader to relax and focus on what’s important: Mamako is hilarious.

Masato is our hero, a 15-year-old boy who is dealing with a mom who a) looks about seventeen and is gorgeous; and b) doesn’t seem to realize that he’s not six years old anymore, so is overly doting and smothering. One day he comes home to find a government worker there who tells him that he has been chosen to play in an ‘MMMMMORPG’. He’s not sure why there are so many M’s, but he agrees… and finds himself in a virtual game world. He’s a hero! He gets an awesome sword! He has party members who are an adorable and trusting 12-year-old girl and a tsundere but clearly future love interest mage! There’s just one problem. His mother has come along with him into the game. And she has TWO swords (the two he didn’t pick when given a choice) that do so much damage that he never has a chance to shine. She may not know anything about adventure games, but she certainly knows how to make him feel awkward and embarrassed.

As you can see, we’re not going for subtle here. In fact, the overtness is part of the point – the series works better for it. The game that Masato and company are in is a beta release, and they’re meant to be testing it. This leads to many of the NPCs simply reciting the guidebook, or speaking in actual gamer talk rather than having it filtered through a fantasy world. Wise, the tsundere girl (she spends most of the book in a state of fury, but there are good reasons for it) is amusing, and you get the feeling she’d be nice if she ever calmed down. Porta, the girl, is a parody of the ‘little girl party member’, and this about as deep as a small puddle, but her pureness is almost endearing. As for Masato and Mamako, they start off exaggerated types, and by the end are slightly less so. Believe it or not, there is a bit of plot and character development in this, and by the end of the book Masato has learned not to take his mother’s actions as a personal attack, and Mamako has (possibly) learned to allow her boy to grow up. (I say possibly as, well, there’s more books in the series, and the premise is that Mama is more powerful and steals the spotlight.)

I also need to mention the main reason to read this series, which is Ms. Shirase, the government agent who starts this entire mess. She is amazingly funny in a deadpan sort of way, and I was delighted at her appearances throughout, as well as her constant fourth-wall breaking. I really hope we get more of her. The series reminds me a lot of KonoSuba in terms of its style and laughs, and I think fans will enjoy it. Yes, there’s some incest parody – that’s the premise! – but I feel safe that it won’t go anywhere and isn’t serious. Recommended for fans of comedies and mothers.

In Another World with My Smartphone, Vol. 11

by

By Patora Fuyuhara and Eiji Usatsuka. Released in Japan as “Isekai wa Smartphone to Tomo ni” by Hobby Japan. Released in North America digitally by J-Novel Club. Translated by Andrew Hodgson.

I am somewhat tempted to copy/paste much of my review of Vol. 10, which would work just as well here. Most of this is relatively tolerable Smartphone, and there’s even a bit about 3/4 into the book which was reasonably horrific and well-written. But it wouldn’t be Smartphone without its worst trait ether, and given that fantasy China has basically been totally destroyed, it’s time to go after fantasy Arabia. We have more of Touya meeting up with really obvious villains, fat-shaming them, and killing them. Actually, I tell a lie. The villain is killed by a slave girl. He then returns as a zombie JUST so that Touya can humiliate the man himself. Smartphone has always had a bit of a “is this a parody or not?” aspect to it, and I honestly wish it would lean towards parody more. Even though the character introduction describes Touya as impulsive and dangerous, it’s not what I want to see.

As usual, the book is decided into sections that make it seem more like a short-story collection. Touya and company have another big competition to see who is worthy to become a knight in his kingdom. I appreciated that they weren’t just looking for strong fighters – one weak and feeble guy who has good knowledge of plants passes the test. There’s also a rather thuddingly over the top “racists are not welcome in our group here” sequence, but given where the world is in 2018 I’m OK with racism call-outs being obvious and overbearing. There are a few plot strands dangled that will likely be resolved in a book or two – they’ve found a hidden island that seems to be inhabited by people and giant monsters, making me wonder if we’re going to get Mothra showing up. We definitely get Gamera this time around, as the new Phrase monster is a giant turtle, who sadly is not a friend to all children. Oh, and we get four new gods, three of whom are pointless, and one of whom (the underage lush) is seriously annoying, to both me and Touya.

There’s a new Phrase alien who basically drops by to scout out the area and leaves, but he also manages to hook up with the rogue God that Touya and company have been trying to catch. The result is not pretty, as Sandora (the pseudo-Arabia run on slavery) loses an entire city to some sort of negative emotion virus. Worst of all, it eats their souls, so the people there can’t be reincarnated. It’s a chilling sequence, something that’s a rarity in the otherwise relaxed Smartphone, so it’s worth singling out. Unfortunately, we then get the Sandora plot itself, which I’ve gone on about already, but I will also note that the author’s (and Japanese light novel authors in general) casual attitude towards slavery irritates me, particularly the “well, the criminals can continue to be slaves” part, though at least he has Yumina and company sift out those wrongfully convicted.

Basically, a typical Smartphone volume, for good and ill. I wish it had more scenes of Touya and the girls all staying up after drinking too much coffee and less of Touya mocking fat ugly evil people and then killing them.

Ran and the Gray World, Vol. 1

by

By Aki Irie. Released in Japan as “Ran to Haiiro no Sekai” by Enterbrain, serialized in the magazine Harta. Released in North America by Viz Media. Translated by Emi Louie-Nishikawa.

Sometimes you really do just read a book for the art. Oh, there’s other reasons to read Ran and the Gray World. The lead heroine is cute and rambunctious, and the plot spirals out from her ability to get into trouble and also her ability to transform into an older version of herself. Her family seems to consist of sensible men and eccentric but very powerful women, and her older brother is usually stuck trying to fix Ran’s messes. There’s some great humor, particularly with Ran’s interactions with a rich playboy. But let’s face it: You read this title for the gorgeous art. Every panel seems chock full of stuff, but it draws the eye in and makes you want to take your time reading it. It’s the type of story that you say is ‘crafted’ rather than written. And it makes me want to read more, despite the possibility of a trope from many other ‘young girl magically grows into adult’ stories cropping up.

We are introduced in the first chapter to Ran, a young tomboyish girl who is very interested in finding her shoes. We also meet her brother Jin, who has hidden said shoes for a reason. They’re shoes that help Ran to age about ten years, appearing to be a young woman but still with the mentality of a young child. This is a fairly common theme, especially in magical girl Japanese manga (Tezuka did it at least once, I know), but Ran’s not aging up to help save the world from bad guys – she’s just curious about everything, and wants to have fun. Ran lives at home with her brother and father, and at first I assumed that her mother had passed away, but I’m wrong – her mother is SO powerful she is needed to restrain what appears to be a door to hell, and thus can’t be all that involved with her daughter’s life, though she does write. And so Ran does things like taking a train (and hitchhiking) to try to find her, or attempting to learn to fly, etc.

When I say I read the manga for the art, I don’t mean that it’s filled with detailed backgrounds and the like, although those pop up as well (love the shot of Ran’s messy room). But the art I meant is more composition, the way the creator draws your eye in. The double-page spread of Ran in her adult form, shoes in deep close-up. The expressions on her face, which shows that she’s a clever but naive girl, who one day is likely going to be more powerful than her mother. And the endless grumpiness of her brother Jin, who did not sign up to be a minder but is anyway. I will warn of one ongoing plotline – Ran (in adult form) runs into an eccentric rich guy, who is immediately charmed by bother her looks and her seeming magical abilities. This is also a staple of “age up” titles, but I hope that it remains innocent, as Ran really is a young kid (and also, the guy is sort of a jerk). I am definitely interested in more of this series, and I note the author also has another title out next year from Vertical. One to watch out for.

Apparently It’s My Fault That My Husband Has the Head of a Beast, Vol. 1

by

By Eri Shiduki and Kasumi Nagi. Released in Japan by Ichijinsha. Released in North America by J-Novel Club. Translated by David Evelyn.

I worry that the title of this 2-volume series may actually be putting readers off. Let’s face it, it sounds exactly like the sort of oververbose light novel title you’d see written by any other author, and makes people think that it will be of a similar character. It’s not. Technically Bakarina was also a romance novel, but it’s overly dense heroine and otome game mechanics made it appeal to a larger male audience too. This, though, is pure romance novel, written by a woman for other women. This is not to say that I don’t think male readers will like this title – it’s a great read. But it lacks the trappings of light novelness that everyone is used to, and that means it’s a title that can be read by women without having to worry about harems, or wacky chases in the nude, or any number of other anime tropes that you’d commonly see. This has romance novel tropes. A young, terminally shy and introverted princess. A prince with a curse who is blunt and melancholy. And a bucket. Yes, really.

Rosemarie is the second princess of a small agricultural nation, and has spent most of her life either indoors or in her garden due to one simple fact: when anyone shows negative emotions around her, their heads transform into that of beasts. This has led her to be terrified of most human contact, and when she’s incited to a ball in one of the larger, far more prosperous countries to the north, she sees it as something she will have to endure. But then she sees the country’s prince, Claudio, who over the course of the entire party does not have his head transform. Clearly he is the man of her dreams! They marry a few months later, and she learns the truth: everyone ELSE sees Claudio’s head as that of a beast – except her. Moreover, he says this is her fault because he rescued her as a child and she stole his mana (something she does not recall doing at all). And the marriage is a sham, as he regards her more like a thing than a wife. Fortunately, she has her maid. And her large metal bucket, which she wears on her head in times of great stress.

There is a fair bit of magic and fantasy involved in this, but that’s hardly uncommon in today’s romance novels, where the heroes can be vampires or werewolves. The main reason to read it is the growing relationship between Rosemarie and Claudio, who are both terminally bad at communicating with each other. He seems always angry, she seems always terrified, and there’s very little common ground to find. But find it they do, because Rosemarie has a determination to fix whatever she did wrong and make Claudio whole again, and Claudio realizes that he’s being a major jerk and that Rosemarie actually is looking out for his best interests. Which is good, as there’s an evil archbishop who would like Claudio to be out of the succession for the throne. That said, the plot is merely OK, and the humor mostly stems from Rosemarie’s desire to hide (the bucket reminds me a little bit of Akari’s House from Battle Athletes). You should read this for the excellent character work and sweet, if slow-going romance between the two leads. And one bucket.