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Reviews

Little Witch Academia, Vol. 1

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By Trigger, Yoh Yoshinari and Keisuke Sato. Released in Japan by Kadokawa Shoten, serialization ongoing in the magazine Shonen Ace. Released in North America by JY. Translated by Taylor Engel.

Despite this being another franchise where I’ve never actually seen the anime, I knew quite a bit about it to begin with. It was a Kickstarter series that blew up into a full-fledged TV anime, it’s been described as “Harry Potter if they were all girls”, and Akko/Diana is the preferred ship, I am told. Other than that, I was ready to be charmed by this manga, which is coming out here under Yen’s “JY” line, so is definitely being marketed to younger readers. Which I can see, as kids will love this. It’s a good title for adults as well, though, and Akko makes a fun heroine – fallible and sloppy, but also filled with a love of life that puts a smile on your face. It also helps that she’s surrounded by a few snarkers to help take the sugary edge off.

The manga does assume to a certain degree that you’re already familiar with its source, but for the neophyte, there is an introductory chapter. Akko is a wannabe witch who’s bad at flying, trying to make her way to the Witchcraft Academy, rather unusual for a Japanese student. Through a series of misadventures, she meets two other students – the glasses-wearing, earnest Lotte and the sarcastic, droopy-eyed Sucy – and she ends up at the Academy, ready to follow in the footsteps of her idol Chariot. The rest of the book shows various Academy events, as we see that Akko is not the best student in the world, but makes up for it with lots of energy, drive and GUTS! In other words, despite being all girls, this is a perfect series to run in Shonen Ace, and it wouldn’t be too out of place in Jump either.

For fans of Diana, she’s not as prevalent in this first manga as I was expecting, but there’s enough of her here to see why fans really like to pair off the two of them – they’re very Usagi and Rei. I can also see the Harry Potter comparison, mostly as the three main characters map somewhat to Harry, Hermione and Ron, though Harry was never quite this hyperactive, and Quidditch is replaced by volleyball – where they aren’t supposed to use magic, but do anyway. If there’s a fault with the manga, it’s that it does feel something like a side story to the main anime – there’s no sense that this is going in its own direction, but filling in some gaps that the main story, which was animated, left out. That said, there are hints that we’re going to be getting a bit deeper, such as the cliffhanger ending to this volume.

If you like the anime, or have kids who did, I can’t see why you wouldn’t pick this up. As for me, it makes me want to try the anime to see what I’m missing.

Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle, Vol 1

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Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle, Volume 1 by Kagiji Kumanomata

This manga was an unexpected delight. I was initially curious about Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle due to it being a Shonen Sunday title, which is a bit of a rarity. I feel like fantasy comedy series can be a bit hit or miss, but I found this title quite entertaining, mostly due to the way it subverts the whole idea of kidnapped princesses.

Syalis is the kidnapped princes in question and while the people in her kingdom pine for her and a idiotic knight vows to rescue her at the start of each chapter, she is solely concerned with getting some good rest. The demon castle lacks high quality pillows and bedding, and she is determined to secure what she needs by any means necessary. Syalis casually embarks on a reign of terror in the castle as she locates unique demons to use for her own purposes. She harvests fur from her guards, who look like fluffy teddy bears. She locates giant scissors and cuts off the body of ghosts in order to get some high quality fabric. Throughout most of the manga, her facial expressions are totally stoic, in contrast to the demons who are being driven frantic by her casual escape attempts. She also seems to have a knack for finding rare magical objects and repurposing them as sleep aids. There’s really only one joke in this manga, but it is executed very well. The unique character designs of the demons and the expanding cast of characters keeps the manga entertaining, even though the plot points in each chapter are so similar. I’m not sure how long the central joke can be sustained, as this series lasts for several volumes, but the first volume was so entertaining I’m definitely going to give it a try.

Napping Princess: The Story of the Unknown Me

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By Genji Kamiyama. Released in Japan as “Hirunehime ~ Shiranai Watashi no Monogatari ~” by Kadokawa Shoten. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Yota Okutani.

We’ve been getting a lot of these sorts of books lately, the novelization of a popular animated film. Well, for some definition of popular – your name sort of hovers above everything else. But we’ve also gotten The Boy and the Beast, and we’re getting Fireworks: Long Title Here in the summer. And now we have Napping Princess, a book that adapts the film of the same name that came out in 2017. It’s a quick, breezy read with a likeable lead heroine and a few very interesting plot twists about two-thirds of the way through. It does, however, suffer from a problem that I really didn’t notice with the other books of this type. This sort of book is meant to enhance or add to the experience for those who saw the movie, and also make those who haven’t seen the movie want to see it. The problem is that after finishing Napping Princess, I’m left with the opinion that the movie is probably better. Which is an issue given I’ve never seen the movie.

The book starts out as a fairy tale, set in a magical kingdom that builds cars. There’s a wishy-washy king, an evil Grand Vizier, and a princess locked in a tower who can do magic. In fact, that’s why she’s locked in the tower. On the other side of things, we’re also in slightly futuristic Japan, where our heroine is Kokone, who lives with her mechanic dad in the middle of nowhere and gets by on imagination and pluck. She also likes to sleep, and dreams that she’s the princess from the fantasy kingdom. These two worlds start interacting together when her father is arrested, supposedly for data theft from Japan’s largest car manufacturer, which her dad worked for years ago. Is this all a setup? What does it have to do with her late mother? And why is it that Kokone has this magical ability to mesh the fantasy world and the real world when she dreams?

To be fair, we never get a good answer to that last question. “Magical realism” is what we’re supposed to think, I suspect. As I said, the plot is fairly straightforward, being a chase sequence for an extended stretch. Our villain ends up being so lame that the author has to put in a narrative jibe noting how much of a cliched villain he’s become – I was expecting to see some sort of story about how he and Kokone’s dad used to be friends back in the day, but no, he doesn’t even get that. The most interesting part of the book was the way the fantasy world overlaid on the real one, as both Kokone and the reader realize about the same time that the casting is somewhat different than expected. (The reader may pick this up a bit earlier, frankly, as the romantic tendencies between the princess and Peach (yes, it’s lampshaded) make little sense if Kokone is the princess.) As with most dead moms in anime, I wish we’d seen more of Kokone’s mother.

As a novelization, this book works very well. Every time it had a major set piece, I kept thinking “I’d like to see this animated”. As a novel, though, I’m not sure it works as well. Still, it’s not actually bad – just slight. It would make a good summer beach read.

Short Takes: The Promised Neverland and Silver Spoon

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Just a word to the wise: it’s impossible to discuss either Neverland or Spoon without divulging a few plot details, so be mindful if you’re the kind of person who hates–HATES–spoilers. Caveat lector!

The Promised Neverland, Vol. 4
Written by Kaiu Shirai, Illustrated by Posuka Demizu
Translated by Satsuki Yamashita
VIZ Media
Rated T+, for older teens

One of the pleasures of reading The Promised Neverland is its crack pacing: Kaiu Shirai and Posuka Demizu have a knack for the perfectly timed reveal and the pulse-pounding action sequence. Volume three was a rare misstep for the series, saddled with too many contrived plot twists, but volume four is a return to form, briskly setting the kids’ escape in motion. The story occasionally flags when Emma, Ray, and Norman explain the finer details of their plan to one another, but these moments serve an essential dramatic purpose, helping us appreciate how perilous their journey will be. These conversations also remind us how much the principal trio rely on one another for emotional support, a point driven home by the authors’ decision to sacrifice one of the main characters. (And I mean a main character, not a red shirt.)

Perhaps the most surprising thing about The Promised Neverland is its feminist subtext. In the final pages of volume three, Krone reveals that the brightest orphan girls are groomed for house mother positions. The full horror of this arrangement, however, only becomes apparent in volume four. In a few suggestive images, Demizu vividly conveys the grotesque sacrifices that Gracefield Manor’s female residents make in order to survive their twelfth birthday. A brief interlude set in a factory evokes the grim spirit of The Handmaid’s Tale, imagining a world in which young women are cruelly exploited for their fertility, then coerced into perpetuating the very system that oppresses them.

I know — I’m making The Promised Neverland sound like Terribly Serious Reading, but rest assured it isn’t. The story is, at bottom, a juicy prison drama in which the jailers are actual monsters and the prisoners pint-sized MacGuyvers. Though the subtext enriches the narrative, inviting multiple readings, the story never feels like an obvious parable about factory farming or reproductive rights. Recommended.

Silver Spoon, Vol. 2
Written and Illustrated by Hiromu Arakawa
Translated by Amanda Haley
Yen Press
Rated T, for teens

After an introductory volume in which Hachiken (a) fell face-first into poop (b) insulted his classmates repeatedly (c) joined the equestrian club just to impress a girl and (d) realized that the piglet he was raising would soon be bacon, volume two affords him a rare moment of grace. The students’ discovery of an abandoned brick oven prompts them to make pizza — something only Hachiken knows how to do. The act of cooking for so many people forces Hachiken to improvise, rather than plan, forcing him outside his academic and social comfort zone — and making his brief turn in the spotlight even more satisfying.

Lest Hachiken’s triumph seem a little too tidy, the rest of volume two sees him reverting to bumbling city slicker, as he gets lost in the woods looking for cell phone reception, gags at the sight of a newborn calf, and, yes, falls face-first into another pile of manure. Hiromu Arakawa sells these moments with her trademark over-the-top reaction shots; no one can distort or bend a human face with the same verve as Arakawa, who turns every setback, humiliation, and surprise into an opportunity to draw rivers of snot and tears. Though she excels at slapstick, Arakawa tempers the jokes with moments of real drama that make Hachiken realize just how much Komaba and Mikage’s families struggle to keep their modest dairy farms afloat. It’s these quieter moments that remind us just what a capable storyteller Arakawa really is, and make Silver Spoon more than just a gag manga with farm animals. Recommended.

A Certain Scientific Railgun, Vol. 13

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By Kazuma Kamachi and Motoi Fuyukawa. Released in Japan as “Toaru Kagaku no Railgun” by ASCII Media Works, serialization ongoing in the magazine Dengeki Daioh. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Nan Rymer, Adapted by Maggie Danger.

I’ve talked before about how the Railgun manga is far more tied into its parent than most other spinoffs I’ve seen. For one thing, it actually feels like it’s written by Kamachi. Most spinoffs tend to have the original writer simply give approval to stories that the artist has come up with themselves (the Nagato Yuki spinoff is a good example), but events in this book and the previous one are interconnected with Index’s 15th novel. Not only that, they enhance the novel itself – the last book saw Frenda get the character development she never got in Index for obvious reasons, and allowed someone to actually grieve for her. And the use of Scavenger, the spinoff Dark Side group that’s appeared in both Railgun and the Accelerator spinoff, allows us to expand on the purpose of these dark Side groups: they’re broken kids who’ve been screwed over by authority, but not necessarily evil.

Touma wasn’t in Index 15, and readers of Railgun who always dread his spotlight-stealing appearances will be grateful to know he’s not in this volume either. This puts the focus on Mikoto, who is in heroic good guy mode here, even though she’s missing the rest of her core team. (I assume that Kuroko and Saten are helping Uiharu recover from her broken collarbone.) Misaki steps in admirably, though, and the two are almost getting along, though that thought may make Mikoto ill. (It’s notable that the only time Mikoto really gets (offscreen) pissed off is when Seike mistakes her for a guy. Femininity is always a touch point for her.) One of the best things in this volume is seeing Leader, the cold-mask-wearing Scavenger girl, constantly trying to outthink Mikoto as she assumes that she’ll die going against a SECOND Level Five, only to finally be won over by Mikoto’s innate niceness.

As for the main plotline involving Kuriba, it continues to get into the nature of existence in the Indexverse, and how that’s a fluid, individual and personal thing. Her doppelganger is rampaging as she knows that she does not, in fact, have a soul. This doesn’t seem to bother Mikoto, but once it’s clarified that living with that knowledge is agony and torture, she’s willing to help end her pain. And, as with almost every Railgun plotline since the beginning that hasn’t involved Touma, this all turns out to be the result of scientific experimentation gone amoral. I’m not sure how I feel about Misaki solving the problem by memory erasure, but then she’s always been a morally ambiguous girl herself – she’s never going to be the innocent sweetie pie Mikoto has at her core.

So we wrap up the Indian Poker arc here, and I assume the next volume will start a new one. 14 isn’t out in Japan yet, so expect another long wait. In the meantime, for Index fans who always liked Railgun better, this is a perfect volume for you – Mikoto really shines!

The Magic in This Other World Is Too Far Behind!, Vol. 3

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By Gamei Hitsuji and himesuz. Released in Japan by Overlap. Released in North America digitally by J-Novel Club. Translated by Hikoki.

I didn’t mention it in my review of the previous volume, but a large chunk of that book was taken up with the journey of the actual hero, Reiji, and his adventures trying to destroy the demons. Given that the basic premise of this book is that we leave the hero by the wayside and follow his secretly more powerful best friend, it’s impressive that the author it not only coming back to the hero occasionally but also treating him seriously. Reiji wants to help this world, despite the fact that he’s not from it and that everyone not in his party seems to be a cynical bastard of some sort. Admittedly, the more I see of Mizuki, his wannabe girlfriend and the third member of the “from another world” party, the more I think that she’s going to be turned to evil pretty easily, but hey. That said, the bulk of this book still follows Suimei as he arrives at a new city, buys a house, and meets yet another young girl.

If you look at the girl on the cover, you might be thinking that the author is starting to come up with heroines by ticking a fetish box. And, based on the afterword, you might not be too wrong. Liliana is a young girl with many dark secrets who works for the city’s military police and is a bit shunned by the general populace, who are terrified of a) her magic and b) her general demeanor. Neither of those bother Suimei, and he also sees her playing with cute kittens, so he knows she’s good at heart. But it may take more than one book to help her, as the city has more problems than just a goth-loli with a bad rep. Nobles around the city are being attacked and falling into a coma – though oddly, all the nobles attacked seem to be stereotypical “evil noble” types. And worse, there’s a different summoned hero in this town, and the oracle has told Lefille to join him… and he also wants to add Felmenia, the heroine from the first book who has caught up with Suimei. Is he a hero? Or just amassing a harem?

There are a few more things in this volume that I wasn’t too fond of compared to previous ones. As I noted, Felmenia has caught up, which means we have three heroines in one book. That means the standard jealousy ensues, though it’s low-key for now. The reason it’s low-key is that Lefille is still in her little girl body, which is mostly mined for comedy, but even the author admits readers are asking for him to fix her soon. And sadly the author’s worldbuilding discussions of magic tend to come out at the worst possible times – in this particular case at the climax of the book, which leaves a reader wanting to skip to the point where they can read something other than magic history. That said, we’re only halfway through what I expect is a two-book arc, so things may turn around. Too Far Behind! is adding a few more generic harem fantasy tropes, but is still good enough that you should enjoy it.

Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle, Vol. 1

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By Kagiji Kumanomata. Originally released in Japan as “Maou-jou de Oyasumi” by Shogakukan, serialization ongoing in the magazine Weekly Shonen Sunday. Released in North America by Viz Media. Translated by Tetsuichiro Miyaki. Adapted by Annette Roman

Yes, it’s another entry in what’s turning out to be a long series of “it only has one gag, but it’s a great gag” manga. Actually, the last one I wrote up that had a similar feel was Satan’s Secretary, and the two series are not dissimilar: human is kidnapped and taken to demon lord’s castle, where they proceed to have the run of the place, much to the frustration of some of the demons. But where the secretary in the other title took over by simply competence and hard work, Princess Syalis just wants to sleep. And she’ll do anything to ensure that she can get a good night’s rest. That “anything” is what drives this comedic title, which despite its fantasy-sounding name is actually in shonen Sunday, one of the three big weekly magazines for boys. That said, this would not be too out of place in one of the Big Comic titles, or even Betsucomi. Its comedy is sui generis.

So yes, Princess Syalis, who appears to be somewhere between six and eighteen, as with a lot of manga characters, has been kidnapped by the demon lord. The people of the Kingdom are horrified, and the hero and a few other folks make the occasional attempt to rescue her. They fear for what horrible tortures she’s undergoing. In fact, she’s merely locked up in a room with nothing to do but sleep. Sadly, for the demon lord, torture may have been a better option: Syalis really likes her sleep, and gets annoyed when anything makes it less of a perfect experience. And so, in a demon castle surrounded by horrifying monsters, she sets out to get a fluffier pillow, softer bedding, a mosquito net, and other amenities that ensure she gets a good night’s rest. She also, by bribing her guards, has the run of the castle to obtain such things, which is unfortunate as while she’s the heroine she’s not invulnerable.

I think it was around “Oh, princess, you must have fallen in the molten lava again!” that I really began to seriously enjoy this title. Syalis is incredibly selfish and hyperfocused, but is also fairly emotionally “stoic”, so it comes off more as cute social ineptness rather than pure evil. Plus the reactions of the demons around the castle (the lord is mostly absent except for one or two chapters) are what really make the title. The guards are teddy bears, the demon king’s secretary is a dog man with a fluffy chest Syalis can sleep against, and even the Michelin Man shows up, though everyone is very careful to dance around the fact that he’s clearly the Michelin Man. The chapters are only about 8 pages long, so it’s definitely in the ‘gag manga’ category. That said, as with other titles of this ilk, the main worry is how long it can keep up its one gag. It’s seven volumes and counting in Japan, so it’s managing it so far, but I hope Syalis doesn’t wear out her welcome. Well, any more than she already has in story.

If you picked this up based on the title and were expecting a quiet fantasy, you’re out of luck. But if you wanted something funny, then this is the title for you. Enjoy watching Syalis sleep By Any Means Necessary.

Didn’t I Say to Make My Abilities Average in the Next Life?!, Vol. 2

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By FUNA and Itsuki Akata. Released in Japan as “Watashi, Nouryoku wa Heikinchi de tte Itta yo ne!” by Earth Star Entertainment. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Diana Taylor. Adapted by Maggie Cooper.

Last time I complimented this series on its use of humor and its focus on a heroine who wanted desperately to be normal but lacked all common sense as to what that meant. It’s not really the sort of premise that can sustain a long series, and so I wasn’t surprised that this second volume, while still amusing, did not reach the laugh heights of the first book. Fortunately, even though it’s settling into more of a typical fantasy light novel, it still has strengths, which it leans on. The main heroines are all heroines, with most male characters being relegated to support. There’s also still no sign of a love interest for anyone, though one or two of the guys put out feelers that are shot down immediately. This is because the narrative treats these young teenage girls as young teenage girls, which is nice to see. And Reina, the girl on the cover, gets some tragic depth.

Mile still gets enough face time to be the heroine, of course, but I liked the balance between her and the rest of the party here. Reina is clearly impatient for their group to get powerful as soon as possible, and keeps insisting that they have to be able to kill people if necessary. I really enjoyed the way that the other three disagree with this but still don’t condemn Reina for it, as everyone has their own circumstances – for Reina it’s the death of both her birth family AND adopted family. It’s treated seriously, but because this is at heart a lighthearted series it’s not dwelt upon, and Reina’s obsession doesn’t drive her to the dark side as a more cynical light novel reader might expect. Likewise, the bandits – as well as “bandits” – that are dealt with here are a true threat that would easily have taken out anyone else… but Mile is Mile, so they’re stomped.

As I said in my review of the first volume, though irritated by overpowered heroes should absolutely look elsewhere. Despite Mile desperately trying to hide her amazing amazingness, everyone and their brother can see she’s on – if you’ll pardon the expression – a completely different level. There is actually an amusing came at the start of the book by the three girls that Mile went to Princess School with before the series rebooted itself, and they figure out exactly what she did by simulating how her mind works – which is to say, what situation uses the least amount of common sense? But as I said, Mile’s ludicrousness is more baked into the plot and characters this time, so it’s not as over the top as it was. She’s still a great heroine, though, and as I said, the bond of her party is a highlight.

The drawback with a series like this is that we’ve not really seen any signs of a plot that goes beyond “watch Mile be amazing”, and it would be nice if a recurring villain or something like that showed up. Still, at the moment I’m perfectly content to watch her be “perfectly normal” in the worst way. The third volume looks like it will focus on Mavis and Pauline judging by the cover, and I’d love to see that too. This is a series that puts a smile on my face.

Claudine

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By Riyoko Ikeda. Originally released in Japan as by Shueisha, serialized in the magazine Margaret. Currently licensed by Fairbell. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Jocelyne Allen.

I’ll be honest, I was expecting the first Riyoko Ikeda manga to come out in North America to either be Rose of Versailles or nothing whatsoever – leaving aside the age of the works, the rumor was that there were a lot of difficulties licensing Ikeda’s works. But Versailles is still being worked on, and no one’s rushing to pick up Oniisama E (though maybe if this does well…). And so we have Claudine, a short manga (not only is it one volume, but that volume is half the size of the average) about the title character, a beautiful young man in a female-assigned body who has to deal with misgendering, misunderstandings, love, and betrayal. It would be a pretty forward-looking story for our current time, but for 1977 it’s pretty stunning. It ends much as you might expect (all signs point to tragedy from the very beginning), but the storytelling and art are absolutely stunning – your heart will ache even as your finger keep flicking the pages.

One of the things I liked best about the title is how well the relationships are sketched out in the minimal number of pages we have. Claudine’s loving and happy relationship with their father, their strict and worried mother who taken them to see a (surprisingly sympathetic) psychologist, and their ongoing antagonistic headbutting with Rosemarie, who starts off as a girl with a huge crush on Claudine and gradually develops into the only one who can really see Claudine – all the while never quite losing the air of ‘villain’ she has around her. I kept thinking of Nanami Kiryuu, honestly, and I am pretty sure the Utena creators were familiar with this work. As for Claudine, well, they’re a young 70s shoujo hero, which is to say tortured, overdramatic, and of the opinion that every single crisis is the worst thing ever. And of course there are love interests who see them as a girl, or are below the proper station, etcetera.

The art is, as I said before, another highlight. I was very amused at the occasional comedic shots of Claudine boggling at the shenanigans of Maura, the clumsy maid who is Claudine’s first love. But there’s also lovely set pieces of seeing the pained expressions of Claudine, Rosemarie, Sirene… the translation is excellent, but there’s always the sense that this is a story told primarily through the visual medium, rather than in text. The fire in the middle of the book may be my favorite moment. Most of all you feel the passion that Claudine has, which is either rebuffed or removed from them again and again. You get the sense that, unlike the longer Rose of Versailles, this is a story that could only have been told in a very compact way, burning Claudine’s bright light in a mere hundred pages.

To sum up: even if you aren’t interested in old-school shoujo manga, or LGBTQ titles, or Riyoko Ikeda, you should STILL get this, because it’s a great story that I think people will get something out of.

Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon?, Vol. 11

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By Fujino Omori and Suzuhito Yasuda. Released in Japan as “Dungeon ni Deai o Motomeru no wa Machigatte Iru Darou ka?” by Softbank Creative. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Andrew Gaippe.

First off, let’s take a moment to make fun of me for my last review. Yes, I thought that the author was going to leave everything up in the air and unresolved and move on. Whoopsie. This book starts off where the last one ended, with Bell hated by most of the city, and then takes off at breakneck speed and doesn’t stop. If you read DanMachi for the epic battle scenes, you’re absolutely in luck, as these make up most of the entire last half of the book. And there’s a lot of “scenes we’d like to see” here as well, as we get Aiz fighting Lyu (Aiz wins), Aiz fighting Bell (Wiene wins), Welf and Mikoto vs. Tiona and Tione (Welf and Mikoto win, but by dirty tricks), Lili vs. Finn (Lili wins), and most importantly, Bell fighting Asterios, the minotaur creature who has haunted his memories and dreams ever since the very, very beginning of the series. Who wins? Well…

The thing the book emphasizes over and over again is that there is no easy out here. The monsters are not just magically going to convince people that some of them aren’t always killers, though Wiene makes a good shot at it. The book does not end with any agreements for them to live on the surface in peace and harmony, it ends with them back in the dungeon hiding from everyone. But, on the bright side, they’re all back in the dungeon rather than getting slowly killed off on the surface. As for the adventurers, I’m not sure whether this will deeply affect them going forward. Things are not helped by Hermes, who is a right bastard who’s trying to force Bell into a role and is absolutely shot down in a way that will make you cheer. I hope Hestia kicks him in the nads next time she sees him. Fortunately, Bell is adept enough to choose his own path and by the end of the book has greater resolve to grow stronger, and this time for more reasons than just “Aiz Wallenstein”.

This is once again a pretty serious book, though there are a few “every girl loves Bell” jokes, leading to the biggest laugh of the book, which is Aiz contemplating Bell’s true nature. (Speaking of Aiz, if Sword Oratoria ever gets to these scenes from her perspective, it’s going to be fantastic.) I mentioned Lili winning in a fight vs. Finn, but of course it’s in a fight of intellect – honestly, I have to agree with Finn, he and Lili would be an amazing match, and I would fear the Prum race if their’ kids turned out anything like they are. But she’s in love with Bell. As is Eina, who at least is able to admit it to herself now. To me, though, this book hinges on two scenes that will, I hope, take it to a new level going forward – Bell’s fight with Aiz, and Bell’s fight with Asterios. The former is all about empathy, but the latter is just straight up action and love of battle.

The book ends with Bell wanting to go back in the dungeon, and so I think we’ll be there most of the next book (yes, I said that before). Till then, you should absolutely read this. I think Books 9-11 have been the highlight of the entire series, and can’t be missed by fans.

The Promised Neverland, Vol. 4

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By Kaiu Shirai and Posuka Demizu. Released in Japan as “Yakusoku no Neverland” by Shueisha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Weekly Shonen Jump. Released in North America by Viz Media. Translated by Satsuki Yamashita.

(Note: The review of this volume involves talking about this volume. If you’re looking for reviews that won’t spoil you, don’t look here.)

Much as the plot of The Promised Neverland involves a lot of mystery, horror and mind games between opponents, I like to think that a lot of the mind games are between the authors and the reader. As the reader peruses the volume, they’re thinking: are they really going to kill off one of the three main characters? Are they really going to kill off TWO of the main characters? And wait, what’s with that nightmarish ‘beyond the wall’ scenario? Isn’t this just getting too mean? And are they really going to take EVERYONE with them? The fun with TPN is that the reader really wants to find out the answers, and thus keeps turning pages compulsively. I can’t say we get all those questions answered in this particular volume, but I can say that the reasons people grew to love this series are still here, in bunches.

The first question, which came from the cliffhanger, involves whether Norman’s really going to be sent outside to get eaten. After much fuss and tears and Ray coming up with scheme after scheme, the answer for now is yes, Norman is indeed being sent outside to get eaten. Now, I’m highly doubtful that the second part is going to happen – honestly, if it had, I’m pretty sure we’d have seen it – but it does mean that Norman is out of the main cast for now. Still, he gets a glorious sendoff in out-plotting and scheming Ray. As for Ray, the explanation for why he allied with Mom is interesting, but not nearly as interesting as his plot to get everyone else to escape, which again makes the reader briefly wonder if he’s actually going to immolate himself for the sake of the others. Here the answer is more immediately obvious: hell ne, because Emma.

The series has done a good job of selling Emma, Norman and Ray as the three main leads, but I get the sense that Emma is a bit more lead character-ish than the other two, especially when you think about the fact that this runs in Shonen Jump and she’s got the “Jump hero” personality. Of course, that doesn’t mean that she can’t be clever or scheming, as seen throughout this volume. The escape relies on Emma seeming to be completely broken by Norman leaving, but the reveal of everything that’s been happening behind the scenes while this was going on is truly powerful. I especially like the idea that the other younger kids are in on all this too, rather than just innocent bodies to be rescued.

Of course, escape is still a long way away. As Norman showed us, scaling the wall and jumping down isn’t an option. Phil seems to have been left behind, though honestly I’m pretty sure that’s also part of Emma and Ray’s plan. And is Jump ready for a one-eared heroine? We’ll find out the answers in the next book, and I can’t wait.

My Solo Exchange Diary, Vol. 1

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By Nagata Kabi. Released in Japan as “Hitori Koukan Nikki” by Shogakukan, serialized in Big Comic Special. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Jocelyne Allen. Adapted by Lianne Sentar.

When we last left Nagata Kabi, she had been telling us about the experiences of her depression and the exploration of her sexuality, and how she ended up using the (sometimes very painful and raw) experiences to create a manga volume. Well, the manga was a hit. Possibly a bigger hit than the author was expecting. Now she’s being asked to do an ongoing series with a larger publisher, and being influenced by her followers on Twitter, and trying to move out of her family home. Oh yes, and still dealing with the depression and sexuality, neither of which has been made any easier by her sudden success. If My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness ended on a hopeful note, this second volume shows us that there are no easy, magical outs, and that sometimes you know exactly what needs to be done and yet can’t quite do it.

This volume focuses more on interpersonal relationships. Nagata, like most people, craves contact with others, but that’s easier said than done, and even when she gets what she wants she’s not sure how to act or react, and her emotions aren’t the ones she should be having. This extends to her family as well. She’s able to understand her mother better and realize that she is also going through many of the same things, but that does not necessarily extend towards being able to help her – Nagata wants to help herself first. Which means moving out, though she finds that’s not something to be done at the spur of the moment. And at the end of the book, she even manages to go out on a date with another girl, but this too is hampered by her depression and self-esteem, as she realizes she’s only focusing on herself and not the other person.

Again, I’ve never dealt with serious depression, but nevertheless a lot of Nagata’s monologues and advice to herself struck a chord with me. Her chapter on self-esteem and how to measure yourself against others was particularly good, and the tension and anxiety that went with “how do I tell my parents about my manga?” leapt off the page. (We do also, by the way, revisit the escort agency that Nagata went to the first time, and it’s possibly the most helpful thing to happen to her in the book – even though it’s just hugging, the physical affection alone lets her take a conceptual leap forward in terms of what she wants.) There’s a reason that Nagata’s stories got so popular, which is that she is very good at being able to take her life, her worries and anxieties, and get it down onto the page in a way that a reader will identify with it and root for her. And you want to root for her, want to see her do better, even as you read on and see everything that is pulling against that.

Essentially, if you read My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness and got something out of it, you’ll definitely want to pick this up, and I’ll be getting the next volume to see how Nagata is doing.

I Saved Too Many Girls and Caused the Apocalypse, Vol. 8

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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.

We conclude Little Apocalypse’s first two-parter here, and though things end as one might have expected, the purpose of the journey has changed. Little Apocalypse has always waffled back and forth between whether it’s a parody or not, and it’s true that the next volume may make me eat my words, but for the moment it’s taking itself seriously. What we see here is what we’ve seen in previous books. Rekka uses various powers that he has available to him via the girls around him to solve his problem. (It’s much like Rokujouma in that regard.) But there’s little joking around here, the villains are seen to inflict horrible consequences, and the solution, as R notes, may actually make things worse. In fact, that’s how you know things are super serious – R is actually dispensing advice and trying to help, at least as much as she’s allowed to.

Speaking of R, we get to hear more about her actual mission than we have since the first volume. It’s clear that she’s not allowed to help Rekka figure out which girl he likes, or even clue him in that the girls like him. She’s only allowed to help him in his missions to save the girls’ stories. As we’ve seen, this can be very frustrating to her, as Rekka is deeply clueless about the feelings that the others have for him. That may change soon, though I somehow doubt it – he seems to think that Harissa’s gambit at the end of the book here might be accidental, whereas I’m pretty sure she, and R, knows exactly what she’s doing. Unlike Rokujouma, where you can pretty much tell near the halfway point of the series that they’re headed for some sort of polygamous ending, and everyone’s mostly confessed, here you’re continually reminded that the girls really are in constant rivalry with each other, and something else is probably needed to make sure we don’t end with an even bigger apocalypse.

All right, let’s talk about the time travel. I mentioned in my review of the seventh volume that even though I suspected that Sophia was somehow going to be saved, that didn’t make the matter of Lyun’s grief and rage any less important to Rekka. We get to see that even more with the massacre of the psychic gang, which hammers home once more how difficult the “job” that Rekka has is, and how easy it can be to get an unhappy ending. Fortunately, this is not Grimgar or something similar, and I was happy to take the time-travel out, even if it did involve Rekka disturbingly having to leap off a building to trigger it. But even with the time travel there’s still a lot of tension here – I’d mentioned that there was little humor in this book, and it’s true. Little Apocalypse has gotten serious, and thankfully in a good way.

Now, I’m not sure this will last. We’re exactly halfway though the series now, and I think the next volume may be far more comedic to make up for the serious bits here. But as long as it keeps up the small but noticeable character development we see here, and moves us closer to Rekka getting a clue and making a decision, then Little Apocalypse is still worth your time.

Captain Harlock: The Classic Collection, Vol. 1

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By Leiji Matsumoto. Released in Japan as “Uchuu Kaizoku Captain Harlock” by Akita Shoten, serialized in the magazine Play Comic. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Zack Davisson.

I had reviewed the first volume of the modern-day remake of this series, Dimensonal Voyage, and I worried that reading the original afterwards might be a bit of a letdown if they covered the same ground. No need to worry there. The more recent series seems to be far more concerned about the planet Earth and what’s happening back there, whereas the original Captain Harlock can’t wait to head out into the depths of space. Which makes sense, because as with the other classic Matsumoto series we’ve seen, Queen Emeraldas, the author is less interested in creating a manga story than in creating a manga mood. Harlock is a Wagnerian opera, complete with the repetitive, sonorous narration that makes the whole series sound like a collection of leitmotifs. As such, there is a general theme of “war against the eerily beautiful and yet eeeeeeevil women’, but for the most part you are here for the spectacle. And what good spectacle it is.

To an extent, the story of Harlock is actually the story of Tadashi Daiba, a young boy whose scientist father is gratuitously killed off to jumpstart the plot. Earth is currently under the rule of a useless, narcissistic leader (so nothing at all like our current timeline), and Tadashi is longing to get revenge on the beautiful women “who burn like paper” that killed his father. Enter Harlock, who arrives with his crew and backstory already in place – albeit the backstory is teased out to us bit by bit, and the only time we see Emeraldas she’s an evil doppelganger. Instead we have Harlock’s eccentric crew, which are composed entirely of Matsumoto’s two basic types: short, squat men and gorgeous long-haired blondes. With Tadashi now on the crew, they head out into space to try to find out the secret of the Mazon, and see if they can discover a reason for their war against the Earth… or if it’s just pre-destined after all.

As with a lot of manga from this time period, readers should be prepared for a lot of silly comedy interspersed with Harlock’s stoic nobility. His first mate Yattaran is the primary source of this, caring about putting together models of battleships and nothing else, to the point where the running gag starts to get tiresome, but thankfully not past that point. There’s also an alcoholic doctor, which might seem a bit familiar to fans of Space Battleship Yamato. As for his two female crew members, sadly they’re just as serious-minded as Harlock, though at least Yuki gets in the occasional snarky line. As for Mimay, it’s rare to meet a character who screams “I am going to die tragically somewhere in the next volume” more than she does, and every single line she says just underlines that point.

The plot is slight, and the art is very 1970s. That said, this is the sort of manga that’s not meant to be read so much as sipped. If you keep that in mind, Harlock turns into an excellent purchase, showing off a creator at the height of his powers.

Wotakoi: Love Is Hard for Otaku, Vol. 1

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By Fujita | Published by Kodansha Comics

Narumi Momose and Hirotaka Nifuji were childhood friends and reconnect as adults when they discover they work at the same office. Narumi is hiding the fact that she’s a hardcore fujoshi, especially since she’s lost several boyfriends because of it, while Hirotaka isn’t making any attempt to hide his video game fixation. After listening to her complain about her latest heartache and asking, “Why can’t you just find a guy who accepts you as an otaku?,” Hirotaka suggests himself as an alternative and they start dating. Wotakoi, befitting its webcomic origins, is essentially a series of vignettes about their relationship with each other and with their otaku friends (and combative couple) Hanako Koyanagi and Taro Kabakura.

I must say that at this point it’s a little hard to see what exactly Hirotaka sees in Narumi, but he himself is pretty awesome. He can tell when she isn’t feeling well when no one else can (even when it turns out she’s only sad ‘cos a favorite character died), he is willing to executive a kabedon on Kabakura for her enjoyment, and, best of all, he patiently helps with her BL doujinshi when she’s up against a deadline for Comiket. He’s supportive and non-judgmental of her hobbies, and when she worries they’re just settling for each other, he tells her, “We’re together because I love you and I like seeing you doing things that make you happy.” Hirotaka is really great. I wish Narumi would make a similar declaration of love for him. Maybe that’ll come eventually.

Also great are Koyanagi and Kabakura. Normally, characters who spend this much time bickering and calling each other “ugly” and “idiot” would not be my favorites. In fact, I’d find them troubling. In this case, though, there’s enough chemistry and underlying affection between the two that it works. Kabakura is the most normal of the bunch, though he’s not hiding his hobbies, claiming, “I just know how to enjoy things in moderation.” Koyanagi is really into cosplay and, despite her generous bosom (which gets a lot of attention, especially when compared to Narumi’s lack of same), excels at portraying cool bishounen types.

All of the characters are fun and I enjoyed spending time with them, but it’s probably pretty obvious that Hirotaka is my favorite. This two-in-one omnibus ends with the prospect of he and Narumi going on a proper date, which makes me happy. The vignettes are amusing and I enjoy them, but I’d also like to see their relationship progress and for our stoic-seeming hero to have more reasons to smile.

Wotakoi is ongoing in Japan, where five volumes have been released so far. Kodansha will release the second omnibus, containing volumes three and four, next Tuesday.

Review copy provided by the publisher.